#I’m playing with several older married couples that I’m not out to

[call-me-strega]

Ghost Selkie AU Tidbit: Abuela Soliña

I’m still playing with my Ghost Selkie Au, tossing it around like a cat toy trying to decide if and how to write it and one figure that I’ve kinda developed a backstory for is Abuela Soliña. Now said backstory may never see the light of day in the the main story so I thought this’d be a fun tidbit to throw out while I’m still considering the main story overall.

Okay so my inspo for Abuela Soliña, or Señora Mariana Soliña, actually came from a couple of different sources. I took some of the general headcanon from the DCU; Crime Alley has a large population of people of color, specifically Hispanic in the area Jason lived; that Jason has Hispanic heritage; that some of the older women in the alley occasionally feed street kids; and took them to create a person that would be a maternal figure for Jason bc I’m all for giving him Good Adult Influences.

She functions a bit as a plot device taking up the role of Jason’s magical mentor and helps move the story along. However, I wanted to give her more depth so I based her off an actual figure in Spanish history. Once I had decided a witch was the best magical figure to live in Gotham and guide Jason I actually did a bit of research on famous Brujas in folklore and came across María Soliña/Soliño a famous witch from Galicia who inspired the women of her village to fend off Ottoman raiders and survived the Spanish Inquisition without being burned at the stake. She was the main inspiration and namesake of Abuela Mariana Soliña. She did have children, though not much is known about them, so I wanted it to be implied that Mariana was a descendant of María. I wanna say I’m placing her around age 50 when she first met Jason and 65-ish(?) when he returned to Gotham.

Anyways, like I said I didn’t want her to remain a plot device and actually have depth so I kinda started building a backstory for her. Her grandparents or parents were likely immigrants who moved to Gotham from Galicia, Spain back when the city was younger. Back then the different magical communities were a bit more segregated. Vampires stayed clans with vamp doctors and leaders, gargoyles in their own community, fae in their courts, etc., but she did let that stop her. She was always deeply involved in the inter-magical community and was a central figure due to her interest in learning other supernatural cultures of the city.

She eventually grew up to be a full-fledged bruja who sold her magical remedies, charms, potions, etc to any supernatural being willing to pay her. This actually helped her amass a large amount of wealth quickly, especially when her charms, totems, and remedies caught the eyes of superstitious crime bosses across the city. She always insisted to cover her face with a shawl to protect her anonymity and had several mob bosses sign magical contracts agreeing to protect her and her rights to do business thus making her virtually untouchable in the Alley.

I wanted her to be a very strong influence on Jason. She is very strong, sassy, confident, clever, and street smart and taught Jason some of those traits. She actually meets Jason through Catherine. Mariana had many close friends with children though she herself never married. Catherine was actually the daughter of one of her close friends and Mariana was like an aunt to her. When her friend died and Catherine was left on the streets Mariana did what she could but her fear and unreadiness for motherhood held her back.

Catherine was taken in by her uncle’s family and the two were estranged for a time. In that time she falls into addiction due to her uncles on involvement in drug running as well as bad peer influences. She reunites with her Tía Mariana when she marries Willis and reaches out to invite her to the wedding. Even though they are no longer very close, after Catherine becomes pregnant Mariana offers to help out when she can. She lives in a different (read: magical) part of the Alley so she only sees Jason occasionally but makes a point to feed him, and when he discovers her secret, to teach him some basics of the supernatural world to help him get by.

After Catherine’s death Abuela Soliña is distraught. She offers Jason a hot meal and some money she had set aside (Catherine’s old college fund she never got a chance to use) but hesitated to offer a place in her home so soon after the loss. Jason sees her grief and hesitation, mistakenly assuming it’s unwillingness to deal with him full time and runs off. She tries to invite him back a couple of times but he mistakes it as one off events and remains a street kid until Bruce adopts him.

He still occasionally goes back to the Alley to visit her after that, usually as Robin. The first time he went to let her know he was okay she immediately clocked him as Jason but wished him well with Bruce. When he visits she still feeds him and gives him luck and protection charms to help with crime fighting. (Side Note: on one of his visits Jason finds out the Alfred and Mariana know each other and Have Met Before™️. Neither explains how or why)

When Jason dies Mariana grieves him deeply. When he comes back as a revenant she is both relieved and guilty. She’s happy to have the boy back but a revenant’s existence is not a peaceful one. When he searches her up and comes to see her he looks like he’s survived hell and back and he probably has. He seek out her guidance and help and this time Abuela Soliña is more than willing to pass on her vast wealth of knowledge of the supernatural community and its cultures to Jason.

One of the biggest two regrets Mariana holds with her is not adopting Catherine or Jason when they were at their lowest and she had the chance. That’s why as Jason’s rage cools and he begins looking to return to a (semi-)normal life she offers to adopt him as her grandson for real this time. She has a friend who owes her a favor and can fabricate the paper work to turn Jason Peter Todd into Jason “Pedro” Solina (and his mother posthumously Catherine Soliña-Todd). She offers to officially make him her little witchling and he emotionally accepts.

Mariana is still an active and well-known figure in Gotham’s underworld and supernatural community so having her backing gives Red Hood a lot of pull and credibility. Plus his revenant titles increase his claim to fame in the magical community. Red Hood is well loved and “Pedro” is well accepted with in the community. He’s kind of a public figure, bordering minor celebrity due to his connection to famous Bruja and witch doctor, Mariana Soliña. Not that he is aware of that fact.

Lastly I’m gonna tack on some nicknames Jason receives pertaining to his connection with Señora Soliña:

Soliña’s boy (el chico de Soliña)

Little witchling

Pequeño niño brujo or pequeño brujo (little witch boy)

Young brujo

El neito guapo (the handsome grandson)

Alborotador (troublemaker)

Heredero (heir/inheritor, referring to Mariana’s kowledge, wealth, and position in the community)

(P.S I tried my hand at drawing what I think Abuela Soliña would look like but I’m not super confident in it. I think I’m a better writer than drawer, but if you guys actually wanna see the drawing anyway let me know and I’ll make another post with it)

#long post #dc x dp #jason todd #oc: #Mariana Soliña #just a tidbit #oc lore #ghost selkie au #Dead on Main in the au but not this specific post #dead on main

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo's wife feeding him her homemade desserts only for the main trio to walk in on them?

“It’s so nice of you to come visit me at work [Y/N]-chan.” Satoru cooed as you set out plates from the little picnic basket you had packed for the two of you.

You giggled. “You’re never going to stop calling me ‘-chan’ are you?” Despite being a woman, and married for several years.

“Nope!” Satoru confirmed with a grin. “Because you’re still cute, and you’ll always be my cute [Y/N]-chan.” You giggle again.

“Well, thank you Satoru-kun. Honestly it’s just nice to hear you call me anything at all. You’ve been so busy lately.”

“The life of the strongest and world’s greatest teacher.” He faux bemoaned. “These days, it seems to be one crisis after another. We’re all just sifting from one disaster to the next.”

“Optimistic Satoru.” You tell him. “But, at least we have sometime now.” Even if it was just his lunch break. “And, I made you something.”

“Pecan tarts!”

An American dish that Satoru was fond of. Probably because it was more brown sugar & butter than pecans. The weren’t a popular dish in Japan though. So it wasn’t like the rest of his sweets he could just pick up en mass whenever he wanted. They had to be made special.

“You always take such good care of me [Y/N]-chan.” Satoru cheered with a grin. Already helping himself to the tarts.

“At least try to each a vegetable too.” You encourage as you offer him a some of the cold vegetable salad you made as well.

Satoru grumbled, but took a couple pieces for his plate anyway.

“Gojo-sensei, have you seen….?” The sound of Megumi’s voice broke out, before he just let himself in, came over the quiet of their lunch. “Oh. Hello [Y/N]-san.”

“Hello Megumi.”

“What is it Megumi-kun?” Satoru asked. Sounding like his usual cheerful self, but you could tell it was strained.

“Mai-senpai was looking for her jian, Coiled Viper? She said you borrowed it.”

“Why would I need her sword?” The older man asked. Clearly offended in thinking he would need a physical weapon to do anything. He was the weapon. “Go check the supply closet. Maybe someone put it there with the rest of the training gear.”

Megumi nodded once. Then apologized with his goodbye, before he let himself back out. “He’s still a good kid.”

“He’s ok.” Satoru agreed.

He tried to return to his tarts and his wife when the door flung opened again. “Gojo-sensei! You need to tell those idiots to stay out of my closet!”

“What now?” Satoru asked. His voice getting more strained.

“Those perverts went through my closet!”

“How do you know they went through your closet Nobara-chan?”

“Because all of my stuff was moved around and one of my skirts was missing!”

Satoru sighed and turned back to his lunch. “That wasn’t them.”

“Who could it have been then?!”

“Not them, that’s all.”

“How could you know that?! If it wasn’t them, then who could have gone through my stuff!”

“Because it was me ok! I borrowed it for a joke.”

“Satoru!” You hiss. To which he sighed.

He then promised to replace it, and anything else she wanted, if she would just stop yelling and leave him alone. Nobara huffed but still turned on her heels and left. “What?!” Satoru snapped. Feeling your piercing gaze. “It was just a joke.”

“…pervert…” You mutter before sipping your tea. Satoru sighed again.

“Look, I’m sorry. I get it was childish and dumb, but we were just playing around. Don’t be mad at me. We haven’t spent a lot of time together and I don’t want to mess it up.”

It was your turn to sigh before you nodded. “Ok.” You supposed he was right.

Satoru smiled, then leaned over the table to give you a kiss. One that almost made it, until the door opened again. “Gojo-sensei—"

“What?! What is it now?!”

Yuji stood at the door, startled like a deer at his teacher’s outburst. “I uh…sorry…I’ll just go ask someone else. Sorry.”

He carefully closed the door and Satoru hung his head in defeat. “Damnit.”

“You shouldn’t have yelled at him.”

“I know.” He agreed as he sat back down. “I guess I’ll have to apologize to him too.”

“It seems a little crowded here today.” You tell him. Packing up the lunch, which had been barely picked over, and handed it to Satoru. “Try to eat something later and I’ll see you when you get home. I’ll stay up.”

“It might be really late.”

“I’ll get an iced coffee.”

Satoru smirked, then leaned up to give you a kiss as you pass. “Give Yuji one of the tarts. He’ll like them.”

“But then there will be less for me.” He bemoaned. “Alright, alright! Don’t look at me that way. I’m a good teacher, I swear!”

“I know you are darling.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo x reader #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines #scenarios #imagine #female reader

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

Some of this is copy-pasted from my response to a comment on one of my fics several months back, so sorry to anyone who read that and will now have deja vu.

These thoughts are based on my perception/headcanon of Sherlock and Liam as an allosexual couple. I’m totally supportive of people who like to ship pairs as ace/queerplatonic/etc, but with these two I do find it a liiiiiitle bit of a stretch...have y’all seen the train scene? They have the horniest of energy, good golly. But that’s in my opinion, and anyone who sees it differently is absolutely valid; we’re here to have fun, so have fun with it!

Okay, disclaimers out of the way: the more canon Sherliam gets, the more I love that they don’t meet typical BL seme/uke cliches. I do catch myself borderline feminizing Liam on occasion, primarily because I want him to be held, and engulfed in too-big sweaters that smell like Sherlock, and tucked into comfy armchairs with blankets and books: and alas, gender stereotype nonsense makes that feel like feminization even though it really isn’t. And that’s totally separate from the way I perceive their potential sexual dynamic, which is basically: switchy as hell, but Liam is more prone to being a bit dommy.

But like...They're the same age and height and even weight to start with. There are no particular inequalities in their education or unbalanced power dynamics. Sure, the Lord of Crime is puppeting Sherlock around, but Sherlock knows that, and though he doesn’t feel he’s truly on equal footing with Liam until right before the fall, it doesn’t feel...skeezy. Liam never actually lies to him (*glares at English manga translation*). There might not be outright spoken honesty between them, but there’s a mutual understanding of the game they’re playing, and overall their energy is incredibly nontoxic for an “enemies to lovers” dynamic (not that they ever really managed “enemies” to begin with).

(Another disclaimer: I don’t have a problem with shipping toxic pairs, Hannigram is one of my all time fave ships. But the older I get the more I’m drawn to happy stories and healthy representation and boy oh boy has Yuumori been delivering.)

Anyway, back to avoiding BL standards: Liam is pretty and fashionable and a scholar but sometimes exudes such dom vibes. Sherlock is an athletic borderline himbo, vaguely wrong-side-of-the-tracks, but gets blushy and flustered easily. Liam is the damsel in distress saved by his dashing hero: but he is also the criminal mastermind taunting his rival. Liam is rich to Sherlock's working-class, except nope, Liam is an adopted East End kid and Sherlock's family is running the country.

So many gay stories, with BL being probably the worst offender but far from the only one, blatantly signal top/bottom, feminine/masculine. They practically put a giant flashing arrow over one guy’s head that says “HE’S THE GIRL IN THE RELATIONSHIP.” And as someone who is neither a gay man nor prone to entering relationships at all, I can’t really speak for the realism of these things; I know there are people who strongly align themselves with presentations like twink, bear, etc. And I’m sure many people have a strong preference for a particular role in the bedroom, especially in a dating scene dominated by hookup culture: but it also feels so disingenuous to me that anyone, particularly in a long-term partnership, would be like, “This is the only one thing I ever do.” Even in a straight relationship that sounds hella boring.

And Sherlock and Liam sidestep those assumptions so neatly, which up until chapter 67 I would have said is simply because...it’s not BL. But now we’ve got chapter 75 and they’re practically married. Mix together the almost undeniable sexual charge of their early interactions with their more recent LITERALLY VOWING TO SPEND THEIR LIVES TOGETHER and it seems reasonable to assume that sex is on the table. Yet nothing about the way they look or act demands the reader assign them certain sexual roles. They don't feel like a collection of stereotypes signalling top and bottom, they feel like an actual human couple who probably have preferences in bed but also like to switch things up and try new things.

I appreciate that.

#yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #sherliam

[fuckyeahmarkgatiss]

The recent Times article on Mark & Ian

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/mark-gatiss-and-ian-hallard-i-asked-him-to-marry-me-the-afternoon-we-met-339v55jw2

The article is behind a paywall but I still had some access so here you all are!

Mark Gatiss & Ian Hallard: ‘I proposed on the afternoon we met.’

The League of Gentleman star and his actor husband on dating at the dawn of the internet and coming out to their parents.

Mark

Ian and I met online back in 1999, long before Grindr, when online dating still had a certain stigma attached to it. “Poor you! You can’t find anyone in the real world, so you have to go scrabbling around on the internet.” I didn’t tell my family how we’d met for several years.

You also have to remember that gay men didn’t necessarily go on dates in search of eternal happiness. Dates were fun and exciting. So, when we met in the glamorous surroundings of Finsbury Park Tube station and went back to my flat, I didn’t think it was anything serious. But it was. Ian loves to tell people that I asked him to marry me that afternoon. With hindsight I think I was probably joking, but I certainly had high hopes: “Maybe he’s ‘the one’.”

Having said that, it did take a while to get used to the idea of being a couple. All my previous relationships had sort of … fizzled out. With Ian it was the opposite; we seemed to grow closer and closer. We’ve even collaborated on several projects and I’m directing his first play at the moment [the Abba-inspired The Way Old Friends Do, which Ian wrote and stars in], but there’s never been any sense of rivalry. We get asked if it’s difficult living and working together, but why would it be a problem to spend time with the person you love?

I grew up in a working-class town near Durham, my dad worked at the pit. Telling people you were gay in that situation wasn’t easy. I came out to my friends when I was 15 and there were a few comments at school, but I was never bullied. The real problem for me in the Seventies and early Eighties was that I had no idea what to do about being gay.

Apart from the occasional storyline in [the drama series] Play for Today, the only gay men on TV were John Inman and Larry Grayson. I play Larry in the new TV drama Nolly [about Noele Gordon, a star of the soap Crossroads] and understand why John and Larry were regarded as torchbearers. But some gay activists in the Seventies saw them as the enemy: screamingly gay, but at the same time a sort of neutered Saturday-night camp.

Somehow I managed to put off telling my parents to the point where my mam was the one who brought it up. I was home from university and she simply asked me. It was a huge relief. I said, “Hadn’t we better tell Dad?” Mam looked at me. “Oh no! It’ll kill him.” So we didn’t.

A couple of weeks later I was talking to Mam on the phone and she said, “I told your dad. Ooh, we had some snow overnight.” Initially I thought that had saved me from having to talk to him about it, but it had just been popped at the back of a drawer.

Dad struggled at first, but considering his background it could have been a lot worse. Although it was a bit awkward when he met Ian, we never had “issues”. Sadly we lost him in 2021. The weird thing is that as he got older he became much more tolerant. Even after he lost Mam — his loneliness seemed to soothe his prejudices. He understood that love is where it falls.

It sounds like a complete cliché to say, “We make each other laugh all the time,” but it’s absolutely true. Our shared sense of humour has become the glue that has bonded us. Ian’s definitely more together than me when it comes to admin, and I’m pretty sure he did most of the organising when we had our civil partnership in 2008. The main problem is that, left to our own devices, we can be as bad as each other. We make all these grand plans, then we decide to take Bob [the labrador] for a walk instead.

Ian and I did have a brief period of broodiness, then we quickly realised that neither of us was responsible enough, so we got a dog. The ideal scenario would be that a fully formed, well-educated, extremely polite grown-up knocks on our door and declares that they are the fruit of my overeager teenage loins. We get to be parents without the hard work!

The couple in 1999, the year they met

Ian

Remember when Stelios from easyJet started his internet cafés? Without Stelios I wouldn’t have met Mark. I didn’t have the internet at my flat in London, so I would go to a Stelios café every day to check emails and log on to gay.com. Back then online dating didn’t involve pictures; it was just messages and a phone call. When Mark and I finally clapped eyes on each other, there was that awful moment of tension, trying to decide if we fancied each other. If not, I guess we would have headed off on our separate ways.

Mark was only the second man I’d made contact with online and the first one I’d met. I did sort of recognise him because The League of Gentlemen had been on telly, but I hadn’t actually seen it. That was probably a good thing. Had I been a massive fan, I’m not sure things would have worked out.

Mark’s career has taken a different trajectory to mine. He has been involved in a lot of high-profile projects and around the time of Sherlock [Gatiss was co-creator, co-writer and appeared as Holmes’s brother, Mycroft] things did go a bit crazy. That one-sided success can cause havoc in a relationship, especially with actors — lots of arguments and jealousy. Some relationships seem to thrive on that constant drama. Not us! I’ve never seen Mark have an argument with anyone. He’s unfailingly polite to the point of diffidence.

I hit my teens when TV was full of adverts about Aids — huge icebergs, tombstones. My parents were your typical easy-going, middle-class Brummies. There was no hint of homophobia but, in that climate, you can see why they might be concerned about having a gay son. What kind of future did I have? I was either going to die of Aids or kill myself out of loneliness and depression.

When I eventually told them I’d met someone and talked about bringing him home to meet them, they were very happy. I told them he was in this fantastic programme called The League of Gentlemen and proudly told them it had won a Bafta. Unfortunately they decided to watch it. They saw this collection of psychopaths and monsters and thought, “What’s he got himself involved with? Is it a cult?” Mum rang me up and said, “Please tell me it’s not him who plays that weirdo Mickey.” I paused for a second and then said, “Yes, Mum, that’s the man I’m going to marry.”

The Way Old Friends Do, Lyceum, Sheffield, Tue-Sat; Park Theatre, London N4, Mar 15-Apr 15; and touring until Jun 10; thewayoldfriendsdo.com

Strange habits

Mark on Ian

He’s incapable of keeping his side of the bed tidy. I call his pile of dirty clothes “the Bedroom Monster”

Ian on Mark

He worries about us travelling in the same car in case something happens to us both and Bob becomes an orphan

#Mark Gatiss #Ian Hallard #adorable husbands #the way old friends do #recent article

[steviestits]

Heeeyy, sooooo I’m a total time travel girlie. Can we get some love for your time travel stories? Your time travel au, regency au and your Christmas knight au!

Hey there! Thank you so much for the ask! I got more than I thought I would, so I'm going to try to spread these out throughout the day. Also, all of these are unbetaed, so... if there are any mistakes, no there aren't.

CW: Mentions of Mpreg and some gaslighting in some of the prompts

Time Travel AU: Plot is Dustin is Steve's teacher in the future but tricks Steve into going through a portal to the past so he can be his sudo-big brother when he was a kid. Eddie helps.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the door opened, Steve expected it to be Dustin with news if he had figured out how to send him back to the future, just like in the movie. It wasn’t, however, and instead a teen around Steve’s age entered the garage/makeshift laboratory. He looked oddly familiar with long, dark brown hair and soft, chocolate brown eyes. The other man had a lithe build and was wearing a t-shirt that Steve recognized from the Hellfire Club, which was the club that Mr. Henderson sponsored back in Steve’s own time.

“Hey there,” the man said with a winning smile. “Dustin didn’t tell me he had company.”

“I’m- Uh- Steve, his cousin from Canada,” Steve replied, remembering the lie that they were telling people. “I’m visiting for a while. Because I’m from Canada.”

The man snorted in amusement. “Alright, Steve from Canada, I’m Eddie from Indiana. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Steve heard the name and remembered Mr. Henderson’s friend from that famous metal band with the same name. Eddie had come in once or twice for career day as a favor, talking about what it was like to be a celebrity. His eyes had fallen on Steve a couple of times, so maybe he’d been wondering what Dustin’s cousin from Canada was doing in his class and why he hadn’t aged. Not that Steve could think of a way to explain it away, so he could only hope that Mr. Henderson had figured out a way to in the future.

“Same here,” Steve replied, holding out his hand.

Eddie took his hand, though instead of shaking it, he pressed Steve’s knuckles to his lips. Blush instantly spread through Steve’s cheeks, and he was shocked to see the other man behave so boldly. Dustin had said that Eddie was never ashamed of who he was, except this was the 80’s where people were much less accepting of gay people than they were in Steve’s time period. Maybe it was because Eddie thought Steve was from Canada that he meant could openly hit on him? Or could play it off as a joke more if he reacted poorly?

“You know, if I knew Dustin had a cousin as cute as you, I’d have started coming over more often,” Eddie teased. “You’re a real vision, sweetheart.”

The blush on Steve’s face grew, uncertain as to why Eddie was making him feel this way. Steve knew that he was attracted to men, but Eddie was so much older than him that it should’ve been creepy, except he guessed Eddie wasn’t currently older than him now as Steve was in the past, but that shouldn’t have mattered. Plus, in the future, Eddie was a married man, so he clearly found someone else, someone from his own time who wasn’t Steve.

“I’m only going to be here for a few weeks,” he insisted, finally remembering to pull his hand back. “Then I don’t think I’ll be back again after that.”

“That’s a shame, but maybe I could visit you?”

“No!” Steve exclaimed, then more calmly, he added, “It’s- Well-”

Thankfully, the door opened, signaling Dustin’s return. The boy was holding several boxes and didn’t seem to notice either of them as he staggered blindly to the work bench on the other side of the garage. He placed the boxes down with a thud before he turned around to see Eddie and Steve standing there. A grin overtook his face as his eyes flickered over them ecstatically, clearly thrilled by their presence.

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Regency AU: This isn't time travel, but is where Steve was raised elsewhere due to him being an omega, but was married off to Eddie when the family hit dire straits. I think you're the Outlander anon, so I'm going to include a passage from both. Outlander takes place in the Georgian Era, though the Regency Era is a part of it albeit briefly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve sat down on the long, blue couch next to his new husband, trying not to gawk at his surroundings. He’d never been in a place as lavish as this with its high ceilings and crown molding. Burning brightly, the large fireplace illuminated them while shadows played off the space around them, which was fancier than the wooden hearth that they had on the farm. It made him feel out of place, especially in the dress that Eddie forced him to wear.

“I know you don’t remember me. Your parents didn’t either,” Eddie said, reaching over to take Steve’s hand. “I used to work for them as a servant before you presented and were sent to the farm. I made my fortune for you, so we could be together.”

If Steve was being honest, he didn’t remember much of his time back at his parents’ manor since he’d presented so early. He did remember a boy that he would sometimes see trotting behind some of the other servants, but they never spoke, not from what Steve could recall. Still, it wasn’t as if Steve could complain as they were already married due to the agreement to save his parents from bankruptcy, though Steve was starting to suspect that Eddie had a hand in the sudden decline of the Harrington household.

“You’re going to have the life you deserve as a noble omega,” he continued as Steve remained silent. “You’ll be in charge of the staff of the household, who will in turn cater to your every need. Then I hope that soon, you’ll be rounded with my pup and become a mother to them, too. And of course, I’ll make certain to come home and pleasure at night, fill you with my seed like a proper omega like you deserves.”

Eddie then reached up in order to tuck a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear. The action made Steve blush, as no one had ever been so gentle with him. He didn’t know why Eddie went through so much trouble just to make Steve his bride, but it seemed that Eddie had a lot of expectations that Steve didn’t know if he could fulfill.

“I don’t know how to do any of that,” Steve confessed. “I was never taught how to manage a household or- or how to lay with an alpha. I wasn’t raised to be a ‘proper’ omega.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Eddie assured him. “I’ll guide you, get you the best tutors. And as for laying with an alpha, you don’t have worry. You’ll learn.”

“Do I have to learn? Why can’t we get someone else to manage the household? Or I could manage it myself. I’m used to doing chores.”

“No, sweetheart. I know you’re used to it, but it’s not what you deserve. You deserve your birthright, everything that the Harringtons denied you. You’re going to be a proper omega, get rounded as you should, and bear my pups. You were meant to be a mother, the mother of our pups. You’ll see that soon enough.”

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Omega Transmigration: The time travel fic you were actually looking for since it's technically Steve going to a different world with magic since you mentioned a chrysalis, which I thought was neat. But the basics are the same where Steve is forced to marry Eddie since they suspect he is a spy. Though, most it is based on what I'd read off web articles. If I missed the mark then let me know and I can redo it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Following Joyce into the hut, Steve took in the odd bits and bobbles that were strewn across the simple wood furniture. Some were crystals while others were glass jars filled with mysterious liquids, but even with those, the small space gave off an air of comfort that Steve hadn’t felt in a home in a long time. It was the opposite of what he’d expected when he’d been told that he would be seeing the wise woman of the clan, as his mind had gone to a cranky old witch who lived in a mysterious hovel, not a kind and welcoming woman.

Eddie and Wayne entered behind them, looking at ease despite their high station amongst the rebels. Their gaze, especially Eddie’s, made Steve feel uneasy, and it was hard to relax, even when Joyce told him to after she showed him to a chair at the back of the hut. Steve tried to ignore them as he sat down, so Joyce could exam him as Wayne had commanded.

“He does have the starting of an omega mating gland,” Joyce said, running finger over Steve’s neck. “But it’s incomplete. Sweetie, did something go wrong with your presentation?”

“No- Well, sort of. My parents didn’t want me to be an omega, so I went on suppressants,” he explained. “That stopped it. I’m basically a beta.”

“You poor dear,” she cooed. “That had to be dreadful.”

“Not really. I was able to become an EMT when I graduated. There haven’t been any poor side effects of stopping it either. Besides, it’s irreversible, so even I had been presenting as an omega, there’s no way to continue the process now.”

At that, Wayne stepped forward, fixing a steely gaze onto Steve. He didn’t know what the older alpha expected when he brought Steve here, as Steve had basically told him that there wasn’t any way to make him into a true omega in the eyes of the clan. There were other ways that Steve could be useful besides mating with his nephew, but from the look on Wayne’s face, he wasn’t willing to consider them.

“If he can’t be tied to the clan, he’ll be put to death,” Wayne huffed, confirming Steve’s suspicions. “No offense, lad, but I’m not going to risk my people if you can’t give me some reassurances.”

“There is a process,” Joyce said. “It’s a little involved, but it should help him continue his presentation, making him into the omega he should be.”

“Involved? We’re fighting a rebellion. We don’t have the supplies for ‘involved’ rituals.”

“Uncle, I know it might waste some resources,” Eddie interjected, “but he’s my true mate and thus will produce strong pups for the clan.”

Wayne snorted but still said, “Fine. If he agrees then you can do the ritual.”

Steve sighed and nodded, signaling that he would go through with the ritual. He didn’t have much choice given that his choice was either this or be put to death. If he was dead then he couldn’t go back to his own time, his own world. Maybe his life hadn’t been the most glamorous or exciting, but it had still been his, and he needed to do what he could to survive until he could go back to it.

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

Christmas Knight AU: If you're reading this and haven't seen the Christmas Knight, maybe the best Christmas romance movie ever, then go watch it now to avoid spoilers! It's about a knight who is pushed forward in time by a spell and is sent on a quest that he must complete there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While the phone rang, Steve watched Eddie from his hiding place in the kitchen. The other man had his sword out and was experimentally poking at the electronics around the room. He then poked the tv remote, causing it to spring to life and display the home menu which linked to all the different streaming services he could watch from it. Eddie acted as if he hadn’t one previously, which as far as Eddie knew he probably hadn’t due to the amnesia.

“What magic is this!?” Eddie exclaimed, dropping his sword so he could inspect the image closer. “With the press of a button, this box has become aglow with words and pictures!”

“It’s just the home screen of the wireless tv,” Steve explained. “If you hit the red button, you can watch Netflix. Then the one next to that is Prime. I’ve got both, so feel to browse.”

“Net-flicks,” the other man repeated, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

Before Steve could explain any more, Robin’s voice finally came through as she answered the phone with a quick greeting. Steve held up a finger to signal that he needed a minute, not that Eddie was paying attention as he’d become enthralled with flipping through the selections on Netflix, eyes wide as he watched the trailers of each feature play automatically. It allowed Steve to slip further into the kitchen, where he knew Eddie wouldn’t hear him.

“Robin!” Steve called anxiously. “Robin, I’ve got a huge problem!”

“Steve, calm down,” she replied. “What kind of problem? Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine. The guy I hit with my car? Not so much!”

“Holy shit! You hit someone with your car!? Do we need to hide the body or something!?”

“I didn’t kill him! I- I just gave him a little bit of amnesia.”

“Define ‘a little bit’ for me.”

“He hit his head so hard he has forgotten all about modern technology and now believes that he’s like a knight of King Camelot’s court or something!”

“King Arthur,” Robin corrected. “Camelot is where he lies.”

“Does it really fucking matter!? What do I do!? I said he could stay in my guest room and borrow some clothes until he gets his memories back, but fuck! I hit him with my car!”

On the other end, Robin sighed, clearly just as lost as him as to what to do after inviting the person he ran down with a car to live with him for a while. Even with Steve being so generous, there was a chance the guy would sue the pants off him once he recovered his memories, which would suck, but there didn’t seem to be a right answer. All Steve could really do was be as patient as he could be and hope that made up for the slight brain damage he caused.

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #alex answers #wip wednesday #but on a thursday

[kptssecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @monochrome-crisis!

Dear @monochrome-crisis, I have really enjoyed writing this for you, and I hope you like it. Your prompts were delightful and it was a lot fun playing around with these two. Happy Holidays if you observe, and happy fic-gift-day to you if you don’t! Best, your anon gifter. 

TAGS: established relationship, secret relationship, arranged marriage, road trip, sort of, running away, 

SUMMARY: Chay stands quite still and watches him for several seconds, but it doesn’t help to make the jumble of nonsense words rearrange themselves into useful sentences in his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he says slowly. “An inauspicious start to what, precisely?”

“Why, to your marriage, of course!”

*****

can’t let this wait one more day

It’s Tankhun who accidentally breaks the news to Chay, on a rainy October afternoon when he’d expected to face nothing more challenging than a couple of hours playing the new Spider-Man game. A problem with his XBox has him venturing down to Arm’s office-cum-armoury-cum-tech lab, where he finds Tankhun sitting cross-legged on the floor, cutting pictures of floral arrangements and men in alarmingly colourful suits out of a vertiginously tall stack of bridal magazines. He snips some of them out with painstaking precision, and scratches the scissors angrily across others, his choices made according to some arcane and unknowable criteria. The images that survive his process are passed to Arm, who dutifully and efficiently pastes them down into a pastel pink, faux-fur-covered scrapbook.

“Khun? Is everything… Are you ok?”

“Auhhh! My favourite brother-in-law!” Tankhun cries at a volume that isn’t quite ear-piercing, but is certainly louder than required given the three of them are alone in an echo-y room, and Chay’s ears are less than thirty centimetres away from his mouth. “Everything is so much more than fine! It’s all wonderful! Practically perfect, in fact! Only do say you’ll let me dress you, nong, it would kill me to see you walk down the aisle in someone else’s shoes! And you wouldn’t break my heart like that, hmm, not on your wedding day? It would be a harbinger of so, so much bad luck! Such an inauspicious start, no?!”

Chay stands quite still and watches him for several seconds, but it doesn’t help to make the jumble of nonsense words rearrange themselves into useful sentences in his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he says slowly. “An inauspicious start to what, precisely?”

“Why, to your marriage, of course!”

***

“Nothing is set in stone,” Arm promises him, trying to calm him down while Tankhun flaps off to find Porsche. “It’s just an idea, at this stage, that’s all. Just something that was suggested - really, it’s more like it was vaguely alluded to - at the last family meeting. It doesn’t mean you have to marry anyone you don’t want to.”

The atmosphere in Arm’s little misery-bunker has always been a bit sad, but it’s never felt quite as overwhelmingly damp and awful as this moment in time. 

“I know you mean well, but ‘we might not marry you off against your will’ isn’t actually as reassuring as you seem to think it is,” Chay points out. He’s just pleased he can still form coherent words; that must mean the worst of the panic attack is subsiding.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Arm says, and Chay tries very hard to find the deeply sympathetic look on his face comforting instead of terrifying. 

***

Chay: hey 

Chay: u busy?

Chay: i need to see u its urgent

Chay: ive run away im at the boba place 

Chay: the one with the cute plants inside where you kissed me that time 

Chay: pls don’t take long they’re cutting me off

not my secret bf: be there in ten

***

Macau picks Chay up in his older brother’s convertible, stolen for the occasion, and drives off without any questions. The extent to which he’s ride-or-die is, in Chay’s opinion, one of his absolute top-ten best traits. At Chay’s request, he heads out of the city, no particular destination in mind. He doesn’t say anything until they’re far enough out they’re relying on headlights, and the sound of rain on the windscreen is louder than the traffic. 

“Whatever happened, it’s ok, babe. I promise.”

“You won’t say that when you know!” Chay cries. “Hia wants me to get married, Cau, it’s really serious!” 

“What?”

“That’s what Arm said. And Khun! I’m sorry, babe, I know he’s your cousin, but also. What the fuck? How could he know something like that and not tell me!” Chay’s voice rises frantically, reaching a fever pitch as he vents his frustration at once again being the last one to find out important information about his life. “Oh my god, what if it’s to some disgusting greasy old man who wants a good little wifey, that Kinn needs to sign some business deal with?” Chay says suddenly, face awash with horror. 

“Ok, first of all,” Macau says, glancing over at Chay from the driver’s seat of with a grin of a distinctly gremlin-y variety creeping across his face, “if Kinn needed someone to sign a contract that badly, he’d just break their fingers until they signed it.”

“That’s not reassuring, Cau.”

“And second of all,” Macau presses on, ignoring Chay’s point completely, “I’m not gonna let you marry anyone else, so it doesn’t matter anyway, hmm?”

“You really think they’ll listen to you?”

Macau frowns, impish grin fading as quickly as it had appeared, and clicks his fingernails on the wheel, the way Vegas really hates. “I dunno. Maybe? And if they don’t, we could just… leave, I guess.”

“I’m not - listen, babe, I love you, but your uncle kept my mum locked away in an attic for eighteen years because she married the wrong guy, so like. I don’t have that much faith in Kinn or Korn or Vegas to be super chill about someone trying to leave the family.” 

Macau shoots him a quick glance, eyes slicking sideways before snapping back to the road. “Well, if you put it like that…”

“Look, you don’t have to come with me,” Chay says, voice laced with grim determination. “I know you – all your family are here, your whole life is here. But I think I have to leave.”

“Ok, ok. But you don’t have to go now,” Macau says. “We can come up with a real plan, take a little time.”

“I can’t go back. I can’t walk back in there. I can’t spend another second there.”

Macau swerves suddenly and pulls up on the side of the road, switching the engine off but leaving the headlights on, so the curtains of thick rain ahead of them are illuminated in their glow. Turning to face Chay, he reaches over and takes his hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing gently. 

“Hey,” Macau says softly, which catches Chay’s attention more than any amount of screaming would have. “I’m sorry my family is such a fucking nightmare. I’m not - of course I’m not gonna make you go back. If you wanna leave tonight and never come back, we can do that.”

“But?” Chay asks nervously. Macau lifts a questioning eyebrow. “It sounded like there was a ‘but’ coming next.”

“Nope,” Macau says easily, shaking his head and letting Chay see the truth shining bright in his eyes. “No ‘but.’ I’d follow you anywhere, Porchay.”

“Cau…” Chay says, releasing the name like an invocation into the night air. 

Macau stares at him, gaze far too intense to bear for long, and then he turns to look out at the road spilling away into the darkness ahead of them. “Chay, you know, we could - if you want - they can’t make you marry anyone if you’re already married.”

“Fuck.” Chay lets out a breath, a long, deep exhalation that carries away half the tension in his whole frame. “How are you so perfect when your family is so…”

“Shit, no idea.” Macau laughs and it’s not pleasant. “This is why I didn’t want to tell them about us. They ruin everything they touch, and I wanted to try and keep you whole as long as possible. So I’d get it, you know, if you don’t want - augh!”

Macau shrieks a little, very bravely, as Chay throws himself across the centre console and clambers eagerly if awkwardly into his lap, winding long slender brown arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely until one of them accidentally jams a knee into the horn. 

***

The hotel is not quite clean enough to be boring, and just a little too rundown to be charming. It’s the last place anyone would ever think to look for them, which means it’s Macau’s new favourite spot. He pays for one room, daring the older man behind the desk to say something about the way he has his arm wrapped around Chay’s waist, fingers tapping out a gentle rhythm on his hips. Chay’s arm is draped over his shoulder in turn, so he can lean easily into his side, soaking up his warmth. 

There’s a horrible pause where the guy hangs on to the key a little too long, and then Macau tips his chin up defiantly. His hand closes around the key and whisks it away from him. 

“We can find it ourselves,” he says. It’s not until they’re halfway down the hallway to their room that he realises the guy had absolutely no intention of helping them with their bags. 

Not that they have bags, per se. Chay has his old school backpack with him, which he’d hurriedly stuffed with a couple of pairs of underwear and some clean socks, a spare power bank for his phone and laptop, and more snacks than Macau’s seen in one place outside of a child’s birthday party. 

Macau, on the other hand, has his phone, battery currently hovering around 19%, and his wallet. 

“I thought,” Chay says defensively, when he catches Macau eyeing his stash, “that I might have to get the bus somewhere.”

Macau shrugs out of his bomber jacket and tosses it haphazardly across the room. “You shut your mouth. My fiancé doesn’t take the fucking bus.” 

“Fiancé,” Chay murmurs to himself, rolling the word around his mouth. “Shit, Cau. Are you sure?”

“I am if you are.” Macau swallows and ignores the too-fast beat of his heart. Chay’s hand wraps around his wrist, fingertips pressing gently against his pulse point. Macau loves his touch so much; he hates why they’re here, but he’d be lying if he said he hates getting this much attention from Chay all at once, after months of existing from one stolen moment to the next.

Macau’s vague idea of showering and then planning the rest of his life is quickly shelved. He’s too busy letting Chay tumble them into bed, rolling over so Chay can pin his wrists and grind his hips down. Chay licks into his mouth and then laughs at the dramatic whine he lets out when he pulls away again too soon. It’s just for show; they both know Chay would never leave him so unsatisfied. 

They make love on scratchy sheets in a cheap hotel on the outskirts of the city, because neither of them could bear to drive any further, because they both need to get their hands on each other, because Chay doesn’t mind being Macau’s dirty little secret but he’s damned if he’ll be anyone else’s husband, and because Macau has had a lifetime of watching his family destroy every good thing that wanders into its path, and he’ll be damned if he lets Chay be their next target. 

As they fall asleep curled into each other, all warm skin and slow breathing, soft lips and steady heartbeats, Chay gives Macau the other reason he couldn’t marry anyone his hia chose for him. “I want to wake up next to you. Tomorrow. All my tomorrows.”

***

Arm wakes Chay gently, shaking his shoulder and stepping back discreetly as his eyes flutter open. Years of practice avoiding the flailing arms of a recently-roused Tankhun, Chay assumes. 

“Shit. How did you find us?” he mumbles, pulling the sheets over his head. 

“I don’t know where to start. You and Khun Macau have about twelve trackers between you, not counting your phones and his credit card.” Arm tugs the sheet away and turns his tablet around; it’s a mass of blinking dots concentrated in a small cluster. 

“Where’s Macau? What have you done to him?” Chay cries when he realises he’s alone in bed. 

“It’s ok, Khun Chay, he’s just getting coffee,” Arm says. He sounds calm, but Chay’s seen him like this before and knows it doesn’t mean he’s not alert.  

“If you try and keep us apart, I’ll scream so loudly that everyone in the hotel’s gonna think you’re murdering me,” Chay says. “I’m a singer, I can do it, phi. My lungs can do things you wouldn’t believe!” He’s aware that he doesn’t look all that threatening, probably, sleep-dopey and with his hair all mussed up, but it’s worth a try. His hia raised Chay very carefully, though, and the second most important lesson he ever taught Chay was not to back down from a fight he believed in.

(The first lesson was not to start fights you can’t win, but Chay is deliberately choosing to ignore that.)

“Ah, no, it’s ok, nong,” Arm says quickly. “Look, here’s Khun Porsche, I’m sure he can explain it all better than I can.”

As the door opens, Chay snorts the snort of a man who has a deep fraternal understanding of Porsche’s ability to explain anything at all. 

“Hia!” Chay leaps off the bed and strides angrily across the room, shoving at Porsche’s shoulder before the door has even swung closed behind him. “You son-of-a-bitch! You couldn’t even tell me to my face, what the fuck!” 

“Chay – ” 

“No! NO!” Chay pushes him again, hot tears of frustration welling in his eyes and making his brother’s face mercifully blurry. “How dare you? I had to find out from Tankhun, of all people?! And it’s not until I leave that you suddenly give a damn what happens to me? Get out of my way, I’m going to find Cau and if you try to stop me, I’ll, I’ll, I’ll. I’ll fucking bite you, I don’t know!” He’s properly crying now, beating his fists uselessly against Porsche’s chest. 

“Chay,” Porsche says again, far more gently this time, and he catches Chay’s wrists before pulling him into a tight hug. “Chay, it’s ok, it’s all ok, I promise.”

“Hia!” Chay squeezes out between loud sobs. “Hia, please.”

“Arm,” Porsche says, craning to speak over Chay’s head. “Arm, I think you need to go fetch Macau now.”

***

“The thing is, Khun Chay, that while the relationship between the major and minor families is much closer these days – ”

“You mean because hia and Khun Kinn can’t keep their hands off each other,” Chay asks. He knows that’s not really why, but it’s funny to see Arm trying to work out how to answer the question in front of Porsche. He’s currently sitting on Macau’s lap, arms wound around his neck, and while he hasn’t actually growled or snapped his teeth at anyone who comes near them, his demeanour is carefully cultivated to suggest that he might.

“Uh, yeah. Yes. That’s not how I’d – but yes, I suppose Khun Kinn and Khun Porsche do have quite a noticeable physical connection,” Arm admits reluctantly. “And it’s good that they’re married. That’s great! But obviously there’s the deposed remnants of the former minor family to consider – oh. Umm. Sorry for your loss, Khun Macau – but the point is that now we all have some distance from the attempted coup, Khuns Kinn and Porsche thought that, uh.”

“They thought it would be convenient to get me married off, I know.”

“No, hang on, it wasn’t - it was just a silly thing Khun suggested, and Kinn said it - ok, yeah, he said it would be convenient, yeah, but we weren’t going to actually do anything about it!” Porsche throws his hands up in exasperation, nearly knocking the tablet out of Arm’s hands. “You didn’t have to run away on a whim, Chay!”

“Hang on, what does this have to do with Vegas and I?” Macau asks, at the same time as Chay mutters ‘It wasn’t a whim!’

“What do you mean?” Porsche asks him, leaning forward with genuine confusion on his face. (Chay recognises it from the days when he used to ask Porsche for help with his algebra homework.) “It was – the plan was – well, no, it wasn’t a plan, but Khun’s idea was that you two should marry each other.”

“Oh shit,” Macau says, squeezing Chay’s waist tightly. “Oh, shit, babe! Do you know what this means?!”

Chay wriggles around in his lap to face him, disbelief and hope warring on his face. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”

“I think he’s saying that they’re not gonna stop us being together, actually,” Macau says. He reaches up to stroke Chay’s face gently, running the back of his knuckles reverently along his cheekbones. 

“Hang on,” Porsche says. “Hang on, are you two – is that why you shared a room?!” He turns to stare at Arm accusingly; Arm quickly buries his head in his tablet and starts tapping away furiously. Porsche tuts and turns back to the disgraced runaways. “Macau! Did you fuck my brother last night?”

“Of course not!” Macau says quickly, and then his little gremlin grin returns. “Fun fact, phi, your baby brother is a very talented top.”

“Gah, shut up, shut the fuck up,” Porsche shouts, then covers his ears and starts humming when Macau opens his mouth to elaborate. 

“Stop antagonising him, and I’ll stop Tankhun from dressing you in cerise on our wedding day,” Chay murmurs to Macau, slapping a hand over his open mouth. Macau licks his palm, mostly out of habit, but nods his agreement. 

“It’s ok, hia, you can listen again,” Chay says. Arm leans over without looking up from his tablet and taps him on the shoulder. “I said, it’s ok. We’ve decided to take a rain check on the eloping plan today.”

“Oh, Khun Nu will be so relieved,” Arm says. “He was so worried.”

“Aww,” Chay says, willing to be far more lenient now things are going his way. “He was worried about Cau and I? That’s so sweet.”

“Oh, yes.” Arm pauses briefly. “Well. That, and he was worried he’d ordered a custom Armani for nothing.”

#monochrome-crisis #kptssanta23

[my-shields-are-down]

Tooth 🦷

#one word prompt #Chenford one shot

REMINDER: send me a singular word prompt, and receive a Chenford one-shot back.

Thanks for your patience! This took me a hot minute to complete.

=================

Prologue - assignments

#1 Ohhh my god….how many more of these do we have to go through? Don’t I complain about this every time…. About the importance of modernizing?

#2 Yes, you complain every time. Which is why I am choosing this time.

#1 What?! No, I always choose. I’m older so I get to choose.

#2 You have chosen for the past several times, yes. And where did we end up?

#1 Come on… the chicken coop was fun!

#2 The mass murderer was not.

#1 Well… no…. That wasn’t fun…But the ice cream man was!

#2 Dude! He was a pedophile!

#1 Did you just “dude” me?

#1 We are not going back to those stoners in Iowa. Took me 5 days to feel my face when we got back here. … The race car drivers were fun.

#2 They were fun, but so long ago.

#1 True.

#2 AHA! Found them. Check these ones out. Oh we could do so much good here! Look how cute they are?! Ooh and it’s a double booking so we could go together- no trying to find each other across Montana.

#1 This again? I thought all the cities were lumped together alphabetically. It’s not that uncommon.

#2 Really? Name one place- just one - where that actually happened?!

#1 Rhode Island! Hahahaha. Everything was close together.

#2 For crying out loud. Will you come look this over? Let me know if this will work for you.

#1 Ohhh I can see why you want to go. You are so predictable.

#2 What?! What’s wrong with wanting a California adventure?

#1 You do realize they are nowhere near the beach. They might not even like the beach or the ocean. Ha! That’d be funny.

#2 That’s ridiculous. Who doesn’t like the beach and ocean? Plus, look at the length of this one? We’ve never done such a long assignment before. Yep, we’d get promoted if we do this one well.

#1 I dunno.

#2 If we don't get promoted, I’ll let you pick until we do.

#1 What? Seriously? You spit swear on that and I’m in.

#2 So gross and juvenile. Ok fine. (Spits on hand). Eww. Give me your hand already.

(#1 spits on hand)

SHAKE!

++++++++

Chapter One - Preparation

Tim can’t stop smiling… he’s been in a daze for 7 months straight. Ever since Lucy told him she was pregnant. How did he get so lucky? Sometimes he just cannot believe how his life has turned out.

In the past 15 months, he began dating the love of his life, he got married, he found out she was pregnant, and they found out they were having a boy. They sold his house and bought a larger house, they moved in, they tore out a wall, built a nursery, built a couple closets, bought and installed a second washer and dryer for the nursery closet, retiled two bathrooms, painted the whole house inside and out, hired Tamara to paint a mural in the baby’s room (magical farmland creatures abound), they planted and weeded a garden, they redesigned and installed a sliding deck/pool cover, they got a new dog and the older one got jealous.

They read all the books, took in all the hand-me downs, folded a thousand onesies, bought a mini-mart worth of diapers, onesies, high chairs, binkies, pumps, pads, swaddling clothes, strollers, play pens, wipes, books, stuffed animals, blankets, burping clothes, filters, etc.

He and Lucy took baby food and semi-solid cooking classes, baby yoga, Lamaze and somatic breathing classes, birthing massage, learned baby cpr, did kegel exercises, babysat their friends’ babies for hours, and Tim bought extremely weird food combinations for his hormonal, waddling, cankled, beautiful wife.

Tim could not believe how much he loved Lucy. Once she said yes to that first dinner invitation and she joked about grandkids and the sky exploded in light and color and awe during their first real kiss, his heart cracked open and all the love and emotion he’d buried since she was his rookie came out and overwhelmed him with happiness. He’d sat in his truck in that parking lot after she drove away, crying and gasping as wave after wave of joy and happiness and YES FINALLY crashed into him.

The next day he went and bought a ring. Looking at the multitude of options before him, one shone brighter than the others - it sparkled like the sun, like his Lucy. But the design was very modern, very surprising - like the fact she maybe could love him back, so he didn’t worry about it. He chose the stones, found out her size and bought them.

He had proposed (and she squealed with happiness and said yes) the same day she found out she was pregnant.

Finally, they felt ready.

Weston Thorn Bradford - named after the two young black men, fellow police officers -their friends- who died in the line of duty protecting their colleagues - was due to arrive shortly.

They were excited.

Well….. Tim lied about that to Lucy. A little lie and not even a lie really. More like a wistful pang he knew would go away once he met the lad.

Sure, he was excited to meet his son, he swore he’d be a better Dad than his own Dad.

But Tim had been hoping for a little girl who looked like Lucy. To be surrounded by love and light. For dresses and tea parties and fairies and princesses, ruffles, bubbles, bows, giggles, and well, all of it, all of the baby girl stuff he remembered from when his sister was little.

But he sucked it up, stuffed that pang in the deep recesses of his heart and focused on all the firsts he’d have with his little boy- bugs, dinosaurs, mud, trucks, trains, exploring, sports, camping, sleep away camp, and mostly a deep and shared love of Lucy. That would be more than enough.

So when Lucy’s water broke, they didn’t panic, they calmly loaded up their car and meandered over to the hospital ready to get him out and then get him home - quickly and easily.

Well, that false sense of confidence bit them in the ass,didn’t it?

====

Chapter Two - First Night

What the hell just happened?! How? How do you MISS a baby? For fucks sake.

How many ultrasounds did we have? How many heartbeats did we listen to?

The last half of Lucy’s pregnancy I think we were at the doctor or on the phone with her OBGYN every other day.

Even the weird alien baby ultrasound scan thing didn’t find a SECOND baby.

And yet, there are currently TWO tiny people snuggled up on Lucy.

TWO tufts of black hair.

TWO lumps wrapped in blankets.

Two PINK blankets.

TWO GIRLS.

Two fat potatoes - almost identical twins - both mini Lucys.

One had a mole on her left cheek and one had a mole just below her left nostril. The doc said their eyes were also likely to be different colors, and that they’d probably be different heights, different by an inch, maybe two.

No boy wonders. No singular males. No Weston Thorn. Not this time anyway.. shock… awe…. Complete surprise.

Although…. Maybe twins aren't that much of a surprise. Lucy did gain an above average amount of weight.

His sweetheart overachiever .

Oh god… that wasn’t a shadow heartbeat or an echo, was it? No… that had to be baby #2.

Wait, that also explains the unexpected and unexplained high blood pressure. We had no idea where that came from. Now we do.

Holy crap. He’s the dad of two little girls. TWO LITTLE GIRLS!!

Tim hasn’t stopped crying since he held both of his girls (BOTH!), cut their umbilical cords, held one in each of his hands, hugged them, kissed them on their heads and handed them to Lucy. To their mom.

Lucy is the most beautiful mom he has ever seen - with two sleeping potatoes in her arms.

———-

The doctors say his love is spending the night as her blood pressure hasn’t yet dropped all the way back to normal.

So when their nameless lumps get whisked away for a bath and new snuggly clothes, he first texts Tamara “We have an heir!” Telling her to alert the masses that mom and spawn are exhausted, please no visitors-we will see everyone tomorrow as planned and places a food order for Lucy and himself: later he asks Tamara to deliver the food in person as they have some last minute details to work out for the party tomorrow when everyone gets to meet the newest Bradford(s).

Next, Tim takes his love to the shower on the floor (along with her IV stand) and lovingly washes her skin, massaging her scalp, and holding her close in gratitude congratulating her on such a great job producing not one but two miracles today.

Their babies each have ten fingers and ten toes (He counted).

In return, she washes his smelly anxiety sweat laden body and soothes his hyperactive heart with her love.

They stare at each other for what feels like forever under the hot water in awe, in wonder, crying and then uncontrollably laughing.

Because of course everything goes against the plan.

Finally, Tim dresses them both in matching LAPD zip up sweats sets with comfy socks and leads them (and her blasted IV stand) back to their room.

The nurse unhooks Lucy just long enough for her to finish dressing. Lucy is then given another full saline bag and told she’ll have to finish this one and another one tonight and she’ll be free by morning.

As the nurse turns and leaves to go get our girls, Lucy looks at Tim and says, “Do you remember what you told me when I gave you that positive pregnancy test? You said that you wanted to be surrounded by love and light.”

Tim nods - he remembers how she looked in the moonlight, if not the exact words he said. Lucy continued, “So how about these names:

1- Sunnisa - which means “gift of sun” - Love; and for our bonus baby girl

2- Lenna - which means love/“heart of a lion” - Joy

Tim is so overwhelmed that something he said in passing is coming true. Again.

Nodding at Lucy, he leans down to kiss all his girls, his loves, on their heads and glances at the time. “Oh-oh-oh! Tamara should be here soon! They’ve been fed right? Could he grab Lenna?” Tim has wisdom to impart - and he also wants to surprise Tamara.

Lucy looks back at Tim and rolls her eyes, “Still so ridiculous…. Yes, they’ve been fed. They latched on no problem and filled themselves up. Both are drunk on milk - they’ll sleep for a bit now. We are one step closer to those grandkids I promised you.“

Lucy pats the back of the young lass on her right side, her Lenna - the younger (by 5 minutes) and slightly smaller of the two bundles of joy. Tim gently picks up his already favorite child and zips up his sweatshirt around her as he sits and then leans back in the recliner across the room from Lucy.

Tamara won’t see them when she walks in and will likely freak out when she notices he’s holding a second bundle of joy in his arms.

As he feels his daughter’s breath on his chest, and hears her gurgle and coo for the first time, he gets a glimpse of his Lenna as she grows up - covered in cake, swim classes, losing her first tooth, school projects, cheerleading, learning to drive, father-daughter dances, prom, college, first love, first heartbreak, wedding and ultimately to her own kids.

Tim silently thanks Wade Grey for pairing him with his hotshot Rookie love.

———

Two hours later after the delightedly hilarious reveal to Tamara and another feeding, Lenna opens her eyes and sees Sunny now on her dad’s chest as she herself is on Lucy’s, on mom. Sunny’s eyes open and their eyes lock onto each other - and their first twin communication happens when #1 sees and recognizes #2 and grins while thinking, “we are definitely getting promoted after this assignment.”

#chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #tamara collins #wade grey #i'm in chenford withdrawal #i love them #chenford fanfiction #one word prompts #one word gets you one shot #tooth #lots and lots of fluff #the rookie #busting through writer’s block #andreawrites

[lucysweatslove]

10.29.2023 // I still don’t have a word for it.

Reality: I still don’t feel like my body is mine, and I don’t have a word for it. It isn’t quite depersonalization, as I don’t feel outside of my body. And it’s not gender specific so it’s not gender dysphoria either. It’s not body dysmorphia, because I know exactly what my body looks like, and that’s part of the problem- I understand how I look, it just doesn’t “feel” like me. But the second part of the problem is that I don’t think there is any way I can create congruency.

I get this feeling every so often. Usually it’s pretty fleeting, maybe a few hours of intense and distressing disconnect, then I sleep, and I just kind of move on. This time it’s just a little different- I don’t feel significantly distressed like usual, but I can’t move on from it. Every time I see my face or body, I KNOW it’s me and can feel physical sensations and emotions from my body. But

Maybe this is just the reality of getting older since I’m almost 30, though I also think a lot of it has to do with recovering on my own through this time as well. Like, maybe I disconnected from my own body a little to make recovery easier/less emotionally taxing because I didn’t have help navigating the emotional toll of a body that went from sick but socially acceptable to healthy but socially unacceptable. When I eventually got to a position where I could appreciate health in an “unacceptable” body, my health deteriorated and my body became even more “unacceptable.”

And now I’m in an aging body that is both socially unacceptable in appearance AND physically falling apart, I’m once again not sure how to accept it. I think part of this too is grief. Just thinking about the last 4 years of my life, when my health started falling apart to now- I’ve done a lot but haven’t really accomplished anything.

Nobody tells you how fast 4 years go by when you’re mid-20s. You wake up one day thinking you have time to figure your life out. You do some hard work to be okay with the fact that your life isn’t working out the way you planned, that it’s okay to be set back a little, and you’re dedicated to doing what is needed to get where you want to be… but then you blink, you’re almost 30. You may have successfully done a lot, which deserves celebration, but you aren’t caught up because time moved the same for you as it did the fresh faced 20 year old.

I AM proud of myself for navigating life the last several years. Recovery was hard on its own, but I also got a master’s degree, got married, adopted a pug, supported my husband through TWO hip replacement surgeries, applied to medical school, got into medical school, and have already navigated a couple blocks. It just took me a lot longer to navigate all of these things than I thought it would.

I think I’ve always felt like I’ve been playing catch up in some way. Sometimes I wonder if this is a common autistic or “twice exceptional” experience or if it’s just… something a good proportion of the world experiences… or maybe it’s just something those who have experienced severe mental illness experience idk.

I don’t really know what is going to help me feel reconnected. My instinct of course is what I always do- major diet and restrict, try to drop as much weight as rapidly as possible. Sometimes I think, if I were back to X size, I’d like the way clothes fit again, but I know that another huge part is that I do NOT feel like me at all in the kinds of clothing I’m expected to dress in- though I also know that the clothes I like are more “socially acceptable” on smaller bodies. Seriously, I see the clothes my peers wear and look amazing and professional in, but I know if I were to try the same outfit it just wouldn’t look right on my body. Every time I try to wear clothes that feel like me, I feel like I look wrong in them, even if the clothes fit.

Normal people can probably just go on a diet for a little bit, lose some weight, bounce back into their bodies (thought efficacy of keeping that weight off may be variable). I, however, have to worry about going back to my own personal hell every time I so much as consider how many grams are in my breakfast banana.

So anyway, no actual resolution. I’m stuck in this meat sack wired to interact with the world via electrolytes (sodium, calcium, potassium, chloride) and neurotransmitters. Attempting to change it could be Very Bad for me. Attempting to be “health minded” could also just be thinly veiled attempts to change the meat sack, which again, could be Very Bad. Soooo idk.

I guess next week’s therapy session will be interesting and worth the $25 copay.

[samtran1022]

Life updates…

About every 6 months I reflect upon the titles of my life, the feels I’ve felt, the insight I’ve gained, and how these titles impact me and my headspace.

The theme of the second half of 2023 & what I’m seeking for/needing in my life: communion (ie, the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially when the exchange is on a mental or spiritual level).

Life as a mom… PJ is about to turn three years old and LT just had his first birthday a couple months ago. Literally each day they get older, the better mom life gets. I feel mostly like myself, yet somehow a more actualized/evolved version. PJ still loves dinosaurs and has a budding obsession with monster trucks; he is entering his threenager phase, with very loud 15-20 minute emotional meltdowns. LT is walking and learning to do so much more on his own, he will often wedge himself to be as physically close to us as possible (ie, when we’re doing dishes, cooking on the stove, etc), he is more prone to crying when he doesn’t get his way (which still triggers me, yet I grit my teeth thru it and validate his emotions). Watching the two interact with each other has plenty of comedic content; naturally, they are as alike as they are different. PJ will independent play, Lucas will antagonize, and the conflict will usually be resolved with violence lol my goal is to teach them the tools to peacefully resolve conflict without the need for an adult to step in and referee every single battle. A task that will take many years, yet with consistency, dedication, and many… many deep breaths, I think we got this. Check again in 10-15 years lol the truth is, I believe that sometimes violence is the answer. Hence my goal to eventually put the two in whatever sports they request, whether that be dance, Muay Thai, or golf. Oh at this time, Lucas does seem highly attuned to basketball! He also is prone to hit his head a lot, so football seems a highly probable route as well, we shall see. My ultimate parenting goal is to have a secure relationship with each son, one where we can call each other as adults and make plans to see each other simply because we enjoy each others company. The older they get, the more I find I don’t have to push myself to seek out a sliver of joy.

Life as a wife… a lot of this may sound like waffle and that’s intentional, for I have learned not every issue needs to be unloaded for everyone to have an opinion on; my journey into marriage has provided the most difficult of life lessons with regard to the traits I initially lacked understanding on; from patience to discretion, security to safety, physical touch to body acceptance. Anything worth having is certainly worth putting in the work to achieve, which seems to bring about the fact hardship is necessary in any relationship. Considering the fact my parents were divorced when I was 3 years old should shed some light to my feels on marriage. Nearly 15 years into this relationship (8 of those married), I now hold a much more warm and trusting relationship to the institution of marriage. Life isn’t just about me; each and every single day, I make the choice to prioritize love and heart over ego and pride. Don’t get me wrong, there are still several times a week I want to snap about something that annoys the shit out of me lol yet I’ve found it’s in much less frequency than our early years and it’s much easier to either make a clear request of something that bothers me or recognize the pettiness of it and bite my tongue. From what has grown into the favorite romantic relationship of my life, I’ve had the opportunity to learn how to love heartbreak, as paradoxical as it sounds. Relationships aren’t JUST about communication in and of itself, it’s largely the nuance, the clarity and specificity of my observations and requests, the ability to own how I feel and recognize what needs are or are not being met. To deliver all the above with kindness and consideration is incredibly difficult, yet I’m fortunate to share the goal to improve communication with my partner. Fortunately I’ve never much cared for exclusivity, I do not absolutely care to always be right and have things my way. Perspective is everything, it’s unbelievably cool to have someone I look forward to spending time with, one that matches my energy to simultaneously support yet gently push, one that I constantly laugh with and express my appreciation towards. We just finished a 6 month round of marital therapy, I especially appreciate how our therapist was rooting for us to develop our own tools and solutions to address any issues, while also encouraging us to agree to disagree at times. Living with and loving your best friend can be weirdly beautiful.

Life as a corporate customer service rep… I’ve finally reached one of my life goals! I feel so fortunate to say I like my job; in this commodified world we live in, NGL this is quite the flex. I appreciate and enjoy speaking on my subject matter expertise, if y’all ever wanna know anything about Clinical Microbiology (ie E.coli, MRSA, UTI, sepsis, etc) just lemme talk for 5 minutes, see how much I compel you. I’ve lived a lot of my life in a career where I had the Sunday scaries, I was tied to a time clock and treated like a third grader. I can promise you overt monitoring does not seem warranted in many scenarios, work included. I am no stranger to the heaviness of a distrustful work environment, how it tarnishes your soul and crushes your spirit. No wonder it’s so easy for me to express gratitude when I sit in my own car (listening to my own music with climate control) on the way to a customer site, I don’t mind remoting in and assisting for a few hours, nor do I mind being in a hotel for a week to support a customer who has well surpassed their project timeline. The customer service component of the role holds the largest source of contention, yet I am persistent in building trust throughout my SoCal customer base, I’m okay with being patient. If it takes 5-15 years to build trust, that’s reasonable. Thems are the consequences of commodification, counteracting fear and anxiety with understanding and empathy. It might be a larger energy investment upfront, yet I’ve got hope it’ll pay off exponentially in the long run.

Life as a daughter… this might be where I’ve felt a large release of emotional baggage in the past few months. I chose to visit my mother when we went back home for LT’s first birthday, I felt like it was somehow my duty, to provide an opportunity for my mother to be a grandmother. I found being around my mother brought about such a large disparity of emotions; I finally saw outside myself, forcing any relationship (including mother-daughter) will inevitably spread me thin. I continue to say it again and again… I need the people I choose in my life to match my energy, I’m all about that balance yo. I’ve finally come to a level of acceptance; I used to say the words in therapy yet I was not fully intentional nor convinced of their conviction. I no longer yearn for relationships that aren’t there, I clearly see what I deserve, I can mourn the loss of what will not come to be because of others inability to change, grow, and take accountability.

Life as an individual… the time spent in my home town lead me to deactivate my Instagram. I just did it, no warning, which is surprising; I’m not often impulsive. As the months went on, I found a quietness in my mind and natural state of mindfulness. I’m sleeping better, haven’t had issues with insomnia or alcohol addiction, haven’t had as many body image issues nor am I often plagued by inadequacy demons. I’ve come to learn I am the type of person who seeks meaningful connection; IG likes, comments, and viewers were only providing a vapid infusion to my needs. Without constructive feedback, I was left to my own devices to fill in the blanks; it caused too much outside noise of discernment. The community I’ve been longing for has come together with the work I’ve put in to maintain contact (contradictory thanks to IG), from middle school to coworkers to mom friends in SoCal; I’m grateful for the incredible, beautifully complex folks who show up for me just as much as I show up for them, I appreciate how much we support each other from life issue to life issue. Otherwise, I have the same personal goals I’ve always had: lift 3x/week, walk 10k steps, bang out 10 body weight pull ups; diet has been a bit of a yo-yo cuz I knew I wanted to go full YOLO on vacation. I plan to reestablish my calorie deficit when we return home on my birthday, I’ve found a new love with ice baths and cold showers (especially helpful for recovery and any lingering pain, tension, or headaches) and I finished therapy with my third therapist. I keep thinking of reestablishing journaling, yet another goal for future Sam to keep in mind.

Life as a sister… is still a work in progress, and it’s intentionally last on this last. Here’s where baby steps and patience have been my best friends. Similar to the growth I’ve experienced as a daughter, I no longer yearn for what is not there. I can grieve what is lost and move toward acceptance of the present.

#mental health #health & fitness #communion #momlife #marriage #communication #nonviolent communication #feminism #mother wound #siblings #microbiology

[findyourrp]

F20+ here! I am: 

an experienced advanced literate | novella roleplayer.

enjoy dark / dead dove themes, explicit content, nsfw, unhealthy/toxic dynamics, and more elements that I’d like to discuss privately!

prefer the pairing MxF (with me portraying the F role) 

Hello everyone! Not a very well-written ad, but submitting it nevertheless. I have over a decade of active experience in roleplaying as well as writing independently, though I have a strong preference for collaborating with others and creating stories filled with twists, depth and intrigue. I write 500-600 words minimum, as I enjoy incorporating purple prose, meaning plenty of description and detail, and I have no maximum word count nor an average length as I love to adapt to my partner and will go as far as 3k. I write only on discord since the server organization there is a godsend, and I’d never miss an opportunity to gush over our characters, spend hours on finding aesthetic pictures and making moodboards, oc playlists, all that. 

Right now, there are two original prompts I’m looking to explore. Keep in mind that both will contain dark, disturbing, and uncomfortable themes that might not be for everyone, to put it simply, but if either of these sounds like something you’d be interested in, don’t hesitate to like this ask and I’ll reach out to you!

Character A is a genius (aka psychopath)—so much so, that his intelligence, academic excellence, and the psychopathic traits of his behavior have made him an outcast and victim of severe bullying. As much as he’s smart, he has never been physically strong enough to defend himself or fight back… until Character B comes into the picture: a rough, tattooed, headstrong delinquent, whom witnesses the bullying one day and saves him. From then on, they slowly develop a friendship as he helps her study properly and pass her tests and, in exchange, she doesn’t let anyone lay a hand on him, and though Character B has only ever viewed him as a friend, Character A’s feelings grow into something more. Eventually they graduate, and due to circumstances, lose contact as life takes them on very different paths… until some years later, where they meet again. How do they reunite? Does Character B apply for a job at Character A’s business, never expecting to be hired or for him to turn out to be the chairman/boss? Does Character A find her by coincidence, working some shitty job at a gas station? Either way, the moment Character A sees her again, the old infatuation he’d felt comes crashing back, and at first, he’s determined to repay her for everything she had done for him in the past and perhaps even rekindle their friendship. But then… How dare she not be grateful? How dare she resist everything he’s trying to give her, to do for her? His obsession becomes sick, disturbing, and as their dynamic starts to shift into something much darker, he decides he’s never going to let her go again. [I would like to play Character B in this scenario]

Character A and Character B grew up in the same orphanage, and were close friends despite being complete opposites. Whilst Character A was quickly adopted by a wonderful couple, thrived in school, and was overall the golden child, Character B always caused trouble and was never wanted by anyone due to his problematic behavior. Eventually, as they grew older, they began to go down different routes, with Character A getting a scholarship and Character B getting involved with gangs, crime, etc. They lose contact, or rather Character A purposely cuts off all connection to him as she realizes that he is no longer the kid she used to know, and so years pass following her disappearance from his life. She graduates, gets married/engaged, has a great job, great friends.. her life is pretty much perfect, until she begins to get strange texts from an unknown number, gifts, things in her house misplaced, an unfamiliar car waiting outside her house at late hours of the night, the feeling of being watched and followed.. is it Character B? [I would like to play Character A in this scenario]

None of the details are set in stone and can be changed or altered to your preference, and I can’t wait to hear your ideas. Minors DNI! ❤️

.

#rp finder #18+ rp #oc rp #oc x oc rp #mxf rp #rp

[roleplay-today]

F20+ here! I am: 

an experienced advanced literate | novella roleplayer.

enjoy dark / dead dove themes, explicit content, nsfw, unhealthy/toxic dynamics, and more elements that I’d like to discuss privately!

prefer the pairing MxF (with me portraying the F role) 

Hello everyone! Not a very well-written ad, but submitting it nevertheless. I have over a decade of active experience in roleplaying as well as writing independently, though I have a strong preference for collaborating with others and creating stories filled with twists, depth and intrigue. I write 500-600 words minimum, as I enjoy incorporating purple prose, meaning plenty of description and detail, and I have no maximum word count nor an average length as I love to adapt to my partner and will go as far as 3k. I write only on discord since the server organization there is a godsend, and I’d never miss an opportunity to gush over our characters, spend hours on finding aesthetic pictures and making moodboards, oc playlists, all that. 

Right now, there are two original prompts I’m looking to explore. Keep in mind that both will contain dark, disturbing, and uncomfortable themes that might not be for everyone, to put it simply, but if either of these sounds like something you’d be interested in, don’t hesitate to like this ask and I’ll reach out to you!

Character A is a genius (aka psychopath)—so much so, that his intelligence, academic excellence, and the psychopathic traits of his behavior have made him an outcast and victim of severe bullying. As much as he’s smart, he has never been physically strong enough to defend himself or fight back… until Character B comes into the picture: a rough, tattooed, headstrong delinquent, whom witnesses the bullying one day and saves him. From then on, they slowly develop a friendship as he helps her study properly and pass her tests and, in exchange, she doesn’t let anyone lay a hand on him, and though Character B has only ever viewed him as a friend, Character A’s feelings grow into something more. Eventually they graduate, and due to circumstances, lose contact as life takes them on very different paths… until some years later, where they meet again. How do they reunite? Does Character B apply for a job at Character A’s business, never expecting to be hired or for him to turn out to be the chairman/boss? Does Character A find her by coincidence, working some shitty job at a gas station? Either way, the moment Character A sees her again, the old infatuation he’d felt comes crashing back, and at first, he’s determined to repay her for everything she had done for him in the past and perhaps even rekindle their friendship. But then… How dare she not be grateful? How dare she resist everything he’s trying to give her, to do for her? His obsession becomes sick, disturbing, and as their dynamic starts to shift into something much darker, he decides he’s never going to let her go again. [I would like to play Character B in this scenario]

Character A and Character B grew up in the same orphanage, and were close friends despite being complete opposites. Whilst Character A was quickly adopted by a wonderful couple, thrived in school, and was overall the golden child, Character B always caused trouble and was never wanted by anyone due to his problematic behavior. Eventually, as they grew older, they began to go down different routes, with Character A getting a scholarship and Character B getting involved with gangs, crime, etc. They lose contact, or rather Character A purposely cuts off all connection to him as she realizes that he is no longer the kid she used to know, and so years pass following her disappearance from his life. She graduates, gets married/engaged, has a great job, great friends.. her life is pretty much perfect, until she begins to get strange texts from an unknown number, gifts, things in her house misplaced, an unfamiliar car waiting outside her house at late hours of the night, the feeling of being watched and followed.. is it Character B? [I would like to play Character A in this scenario]

None of the details are set in stone and can be changed or altered to your preference, and I can’t wait to hear your ideas. Minors DNI! ❤️

[prpfs]

F20+ here! I am:

* an experienced advanced literate | novella roleplayer.

* enjoy dark / dead dove themes, explicit content, nsfw, unhealthy/toxic dynamics, and more elements that I’d like to discuss privately!

* prefer the pairing MxF (with me playing as the F role)

Hello everyone! Not a very well-written ad, but submitting it nevertheless. I have over a decade of active experience in roleplaying as well as writing independently, though I have a strong preference for collaborating with others and creating stories filled with twists, depth and intrigue. I write 500-600 words minimum, as I enjoy incorporating purple prose, meaning plenty of description and detail, and I have no maximum word count nor an average length as I love to adapt to my partner and will go as far as 3k. I write only on discord since the server organization there is a godsend, and I’d never miss an opportunity to gush over our characters, spend hours on finding aesthetic pictures and making moodboards, oc playlists, all that.

Right now, there are two original prompts I’m looking to explore. Keep in mind that both will contain dark, disturbing, and uncomfortable themes that might not be for everyone, to put it simply, but if either of these sounds like something you’d be interested in, don’t hesitate to like this ask and I’ll reach out to you!

1. Character A is a genius (aka psychopath)—so much so, that his intelligence, academic excellence, and the psychopathic traits of his behavior have made him an outcast and victim of severe bullying. As much as he’s smart, he has never been physically strong enough to defend himself or fight back… until Character B comes into the picture: a rough, tattooed, headstrong delinquent, whom witnesses the bullying one day and saves him. From then on, they slowly develop a friendship as he helps her study properly and pass her tests and, in exchange, she doesn’t let anyone lay a hand on him, and though Character B has only ever viewed him as a friend, Character A’s feelings grow into something more. Eventually they graduate, and due to circumstances, lose contact as life takes them on very different paths… until some years later, where they meet again. How do they reunite? Does Character B apply for a job at Character A’s business, never expecting to be hired or for him to turn out to be the chairman/boss? Does Character A find her by coincidence, working some shitty job at a gas station? Either way, the moment Character A sees her again, the old infatuation he’d felt comes crashing back, and at first, he’s determined to repay her for everything she had done for him in the past and perhaps even rekindle their friendship. But then… How dare she not be grateful? How dare she resist everything he’s trying to give her, to do for her? His obsession becomes sick, disturbing, and as their dynamic starts to shift into something much darker, he decides he’s never going to let her go again. [I would like to play Character B in this scenario]

2. Character A and Character B grew up in the same orphanage, and were close friends despite being complete opposites. Whilst Character A was quickly adopted by a wonderful couple, thrived in school, and was overall the golden child, Character B always caused trouble and was never wanted by anyone due to his problematic behavior. Eventually, as they grew older, they began to go down different routes, with Character A getting a scholarship and Character B getting involved with gangs, crime, etc. They lose contact, or rather Character A purposely cuts off all connection to him as she realizes that he is no longer the kid she used to know, and so years pass following her disappearance from his life. She graduates, gets married/engaged, has a great job, great friends.. her life is pretty much perfect, until she begins to get strange texts from an unknown number, gifts, things in her house misplaced, an unfamiliar car waiting outside her house at late hours of the night, the feeling of being watched and followed.. is it Character B? [I would like to play Character A in this scenario]

None of the details are set in stone and can be changed or altered to your preference, and I can’t wait to hear your ideas. Minors DNI! ❤️

Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!

#oc roleplay #oc rp #oc x oc #m/f #dead dove

[dark-roleplay-finder]

F20+ here! I am:

* an experienced advanced literate | novella roleplayer.

* enjoy dark / dead dove themes, explicit content, nsfw, unhealthy/toxic dynamics, and more elements that I’d like to discuss privately!

* prefer the pairing MxF (with me playing as the F role)

Hello everyone! Not a very well-written ad, but submitting it nevertheless. I have over a decade of active experience in roleplaying as well as writing independently, though I have a strong preference for collaborating with others and creating stories filled with twists, depth and intrigue. I write 500-600 words minimum, as I enjoy incorporating purple prose, meaning plenty of description and detail, and I have no maximum word count nor an average length as I love to adapt to my partner and will go as far as 3k. I write only on discord since the server organization there is a godsend, and I’d never miss an opportunity to gush over our characters, spend hours on finding aesthetic pictures and making moodboards, oc playlists, all that.

Right now, there are two original prompts I’m looking to explore. Keep in mind that both will contain dark, disturbing, and uncomfortable themes that might not be for everyone, to put it simply, but if either of these sounds like something you’d be interested in, don’t hesitate to like this ask and I’ll reach out to you!

1. Character A is a genius (aka psychopath)—so much so, that his intelligence, academic excellence, and the psychopathic traits of his behavior have made him an outcast and victim of severe bullying. As much as he’s smart, he has never been physically strong enough to defend himself or fight back… until Character B comes into the picture: a rough, tattooed, headstrong delinquent, whom witnesses the bullying one day and saves him. From then on, they slowly develop a friendship as he helps her study properly and pass her tests and, in exchange, she doesn’t let anyone lay a hand on him, and though Character B has only ever viewed him as a friend, Character A’s feelings grow into something more. Eventually they graduate, and due to circumstances, lose contact as life takes them on very different paths… until some years later, where they meet again. How do they reunite? Does Character B apply for a job at Character A’s business, never expecting to be hired or for him to turn out to be the chairman/boss? Does Character A find her by coincidence, working some shitty job at a gas station? Either way, the moment Character A sees her again, the old infatuation he’d felt comes crashing back, and at first, he’s determined to repay her for everything she had done for him in the past and perhaps even rekindle their friendship. But then… How dare she not be grateful? How dare she resist everything he’s trying to give her, to do for her? His obsession becomes sick, disturbing, and as their dynamic starts to shift into something much darker, he decides he’s never going to let her go again. [I would like to play Character B in this scenario]

2. Character A and Character B grew up in the same orphanage, and were close friends despite being complete opposites. Whilst Character A was quickly adopted by a wonderful couple, thrived in school, and was overall the golden child, Character B always caused trouble and was never wanted by anyone due to his problematic behavior. Eventually, as they grew older, they began to go down different routes, with Character A getting a scholarship and Character B getting involved with gangs, crime, etc. They lose contact, or rather Character A purposely cuts off all connection to him as she realizes that he is no longer the kid she used to know, and so years pass following her disappearance from his life. She graduates, gets married/engaged, has a great job, great friends.. her life is pretty much perfect, until she begins to get strange texts from an unknown number, gifts, things in her house misplaced, an unfamiliar car waiting outside her house at late hours of the night, the feeling of being watched and followed.. is it Character B? [I would like to play Character A in this scenario]

None of the details are set in stone and can be changed or altered to your preference, and I can’t wait to hear your ideas. Minors DNI! ❤️

Like this post and the asker will reach out!

#roleplay #roleplay ad #1x1 rp #dead dove roleplay #18+ rp #mxf rp #advanced literate rp #original rp

[kisstytea]

What was your first instrument?

Well when I was a toddler I had this baby xylophone that I played with constantly. Discovering that stimulation as a baby might’ve made me want to play music throughout my entire life.

But the first instrument I could actually play would have to be the recorder. Funny thing is, I hate recorders now and I think they sound like shit (sorry recorder players). They’re just so squeaky!

When I was nine or ten, my parents got me a keyboard because they knew I was bummed that I had to quit gymnastics due to back problems. However, I never got very good at it. I can play a couple of songs but I just never got the feel for piano in general.

It wasn’t really until I turned eleven that I got my first taste of string instruments. My aunt and uncle got married, and I watched my uncle play acoustic guitar for several hours straight once. I found it so fascinating that such an unassuming instrument could make such a pretty sound. He taught me a couple chords and that was that. Later that year I went to my friend’s house for the first time, and I was really amazed! She played drums, and her older half sister (who unfortunately left the family when my friend was two, as she was a whole lot older than my friend) played the guitar. Her older sister left her amp and electric guitar there, and I thought it was the coolest thing. My friend let me plug in the guitar and I used the things my uncle taught me on acoustic to play a basic progression. However, I never bought a guitar for myself because I didn’t think that I was good enough to actually play it.

That all changed a few years later when I started to dive into classic rock. My grandmother had just died and I was starting to like the things that she did in life, such as her music taste. I fell into Queen’s music super, super quickly. I watched some of their music videos and became fascinated by the instrument John Deacon played. It looked like a guitar, but it only had four strings? I didn’t know what on earth it was! Obviously I had seen Gene Simmons play it before in the Kiss and Scooby Doo Rock n’ Doll Mystery movie, but I thought it was just a guitar! Later I learned that it was a bass guitar, so it WAS a guitar, just a different kind. I started watching some of Davie504’s videos on YouTube, and started becoming more and more fascinated with bass. Finally, in September of 2022, I headed to Guitar Center with my $200 I had in birthday money I had from April. One of the employees (who by the way, looked a strange amount like Kurt Cobain) helped me out with finding a bass that I could hold properly, as I’m only 5’3 and most basses are very large instruments. That’s how I found my beautiful baby, ✨Bonez✨. I picked up on the instrument pretty quickly, and could play part (but not all) of Bohemian Rhapsody within three weeks of playing. I’m still definitely not the best bass player in existence, but I am proud to say that I can play decently well! Im very happy to have found an instrument that I can play without it squeaking when I play Hot Cross Buns! (not sorry, recorder players)

#the gay speaks

[slipperyslideyday]

[keeps my hands busy during my pathfinder sessions by shipping my two PCs together]

#I’m playing with several older married couples that I’m not out to #so I gotta make my own queer fun somehow #they’ve never met in story but that doesn’t mean I can’t make my own fun au #slipspeaks

[undoubtablydisney]

Makkari knelt on the ground, trying to stay as still as possible as the young children of the village braided flowers into her hair. It wasn’t a very natural state for her, stillness, but the children seemed to be having so much fun. 

They ran to and fro, collecting blossoms, bringing them back for her to see, then carefully weaving them among her locks. Makkari could feel their laughter and idle chatter, and it filled her with warmth. 

And not far, Druig was watching with a small smile, and that filled her with warmth as well. His smiles were so rare these days. 

Though try as he might to go unnoticed, it wasn’t long before one little girl took him by the hand and pulled him to one of the bushes where they were picking flowers. She pointed out a few and looked up at him questioning. Druig knelt in front of her and slipped a pale pink flower behind her ear. She smiled and pressed something into his hand before pointing to Makkari and scampering off. Druig stood and joined Makkari, sitting cross-legged next to her. 

“You’re very good with them,” she noted. “With the children.”

“The children are easy,” Druig replied. “Their minds are strong, but innocent as well.” He held out his hand, his fingers curled around whatever the little girl had given him. “They want me to give you this.” In his palm was coiled a string of wooden beads. 

“It’s lovely. Would you?” The children currently attending to her hair paused as Druig slipped the necklace over her head. They were giggling madly. “What does it mean?”

“Who knows?” Druig shrugged. “Maybe I just proposed to you.” He looked past her at the girl who’d given him the necklace. “Did I just propose to her?” he asked in their language. Makkari saw her shake her up out of the corner of her eye, but wasn’t able to catch what she said. “Ah, I see.”

“What? What is it?”

“It would seem I just married you, my beautiful, beautiful Makkari. It’s why they’ve filled your hair with flowers. For the wedding.”

“And that’s that?” Makkari turned to look at the children. “I’m married to him now?” Druig translated, and the children burst into more laughter. The girl spoke again. 

“It would seem that, technically, for it to be a proper wedding, we’d need a priestess.”

“That’s certainly a shame.” 

“Is it now?”

“Perhaps one of you could play the priestess.” Again, Druig translated, and this time, a slightly older girl stepped forward. Makkari knew that her aunt was a priestess, and she was training to follow. 

“She says we should stand.” 

Druig got to his feet and held his hands out to help Makkari. The girl unwound a length of cord from her wrist and wrapped it around their joined hands. Makkari watched her say the words she’d seen recited at several weddings in this village, though this young one wasn’t nearly as practiced with her delivery. And then, she gestured for Druig to repeat what she’d just said. 

“From this day forward, she will be my sun at dawn and my moon at night, and I vow to love and cherish her for all our days.” Makkari let go of one of his hands to repeat the vow as well. 

“From this day forward, he will be my sun at dawn and my moon at night, and I vow to love and cherish him for all our days.” The girl made a series of sacred gestures, then took a step back with a self-satisfied nod. 

“We kiss now,” Druig murmured. Makkari smiled as he cradled her cheek and moved closer to press a chaste kiss to her lips. The children around them cheered and clapped and laughed. And before long, they were running off to find their next game, leaving the newly married couple alone. 

“My husband,” Makkari said, looking up at him with a coy smile. 

“My wife,” he returned. “I think they enjoyed that.”

“I know I did.”

“So, that’s that?” He lifted his chin ever so slightly. “I’m married to you now?”

“Maybe.” Makkari shrugged. “Maybe not. Is a marriage performed by a young girl any different from a marriage performed by a priestess? I don’t know. I don’t particularly care. All I know or care is that I am yours and you are mine.”

“I am yours and you are mine,” Druig repeated. His hands wrapped around her waist and he pulled her close to press his forehead to his. “My Makkari.”

“My Druig.”

I had to take a break from the angst and pain that is the third chapter of my WIP and write some fluff. You can consider this a deleted scene of my last fic No Such Beauty as Where You Belong if you want to. I imagine it taking place sometime after they move to the Americas. The vows are from Marissa Meyer’s The Lunar Chronicles, so props to her. Enjoy the fluff while it lasts!

#craved some fluff #so I wrote it #oneshot #my fanfic writing #drukkari #makkari x druig #makkari #druig #eternals #mcu