just in case since i know some of you are squeamish

okay I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted any Ghostbusters stuff but I started thinking about Tolzmann + kids and now I can’t STOP thinking about it

they don’t want any kids of their own; it’s not really their thing. Patty’s known since she was about 8 that babies are gross, spit-up and poopy diapers are not for her, and she wants nothing to do with that, thank you. her family told her she’d change her mind, of course, but she never did, and the older she got the more she was sure that she wanted to be able to focus her life, time and money around doing what she wanted. 

(honesty, she wasn’t even sure she ever wanted a long-term partner. but then again, she didn’t think she wanted to quit her nice safe normal person job to hunt ghosts, either. life takes you in some unexpected directions sometimes.)

and for Holtzmann it was never even a question; caring for chinchillas is about as far as her maternal instincts go. human pregnancy and birth may be the one thing in the world she’s actually squeamish about.

don’t show them pictures of your baby unless you’re certain you’ve got the cutest goddamn baby on the face of the planet. Patty will nod and smile and say something that’s not quite a compliment (“Look at that, she sure is drooling all over herself”) and then not quite be able to hide her laughter when Holtzmann butts in to tell you about how your kid reminds her own a shaved lemur.

but even if babies are’t their thing, both of them are great with kids. Patty’s very no-nonsense in a way that kids really like; she doesn’t talk down to them, and as long as they’re old enough to talk and communicate she can get along with them pretty well. I can definitely see her being the fun aunt who takes the nieces/nephews/niblings (it’s a real word, look it up) out for a fun day and buys them stuff their parents wouldn’t normally let them have.

and Holtzmann, dear lord. Holtzmann doesn’t want to be responsible for them but loves hanging out with kids, because for the most part kids are curious and don’t care about social norms. kids don’t give a shit about Holtzmann stimming, and they sure as hell aren’t going to get on her case about things being ~dangerous~ when they want to see shit blow up as much as she does.

they are dangerously cool aunts.

and now I really have to talk about what a shitshow Abby and Erin are with kids. Abby is just absolutely not doing it, the second that baby starts crying or that child’s nose starts running she’s passing them off to someone else and running for the door. Erin thinks she’s really good with children, but mostly just talks to them in an uncomfortably high voice and holds your baby in an awkward position that she swears she read is good for them. she is very rarely asked to hold that baby again. Patty and Holtzmann look on in amused bewilderment.

REC LIST: FT-related Blogs 2.0!

The new year has just arrived…and, along with it, this new and updated list of recommended FT-related blogs for anyone here who’s new to the Fairy Tail fandom!

A few notes:

  • As with the previous rec list, this list was composed by myself. It consists of the many blogs that I have looked through around here, using the “Fairy Tail” tag (and other tags related to it), for the past couple of years.    
  • Also, this rec list consists of blogs that have previously posted FT-related content, and blogs that are still posting FT-related content up to the date this was posted.    
    • As a result, certain blogs may not be confined to the FT fandom, anymore (or, they have become multi-fandom, in some cases)—but, they are still listed below, since these blogs have posted FT-related content before.
  • Some of the blogs in this list may contain spoilers, and/or content that is NSFW. To those who are squeamish of either one (or both)—be advised! 
  • Finally, to make it more organized, and easier to update, this list is sorted in the alphabetical order. 

So, without further ado, here’s the list of recommended FT-related blogs to follow!

A to C

@acnologias-ass - @aeselyn - @al-lium - @aloosh-s - @amaranth121 - @amehanaaa - @angrycucco - @ann-kouhai - @animoozies - @approvesport - @arikafd - @arisa-o1 - @artsy-alice - @arya-aiedail - @asketchbookthing - @aya-eisen - @ayumichi-me - @beaglecakes - @becausewhenyoupracticeyouimprove - @bianww - @blamedorange - @blanania - @blazexkeys - @bloodredruby - @bludy-chu - @blueironlily - @bonneyq - @brolinfinity - @buberryz - @capaleran2 - @carishinlove - @ccrispy - @cdart-carmendaniele - @chalcedonydraws - @charswarrenxo - @charuzu2712 - @chello8893 - @chengggg - @chesxca-c - @chiire - @chikach00 - @chikaede - @chootim - @chsabina - @cocassion - @cocobite - @constellunaa

D to F

@d-eliade - @damasath-art - @dariuna - @darth–brick - @deeteagirl - @devilishmirajane - @doginshoe - @dooshiedoosh - @doublepasse - @dragneelmedown - @dragnoots - @dudakka - @elviradreaminess - @emmys-sketchbook - @en-cher-blue - @epeolatryx - @eqqlo - @erzawesome - @eriboook - @eruzayne - @esthellar - @faeriesylph - @fainttwinkling - @fairytailsanddragonscales - @fairytailwitch - @fatedsong - @ferbooche - @ff-darkshininglight - @flamedork - @frannie2199 - @frogbearboo - @frosthsea

G to I

@gajeelsenpai - @gajeely - @geghanush - @ghostdesires - @giupear - @giushia - @grayinblack-art - @gundammeisterlyra - @hannah-nobody - @hikaritsu - @himurarei - @hirata-s - @honeyteacake - @hymad - @ieyasus - @illustraice - @iluvfairytail - @inksterlol - @inspired-destiny - @iwishiwasinfairytail - @itschildofthefairies - @itshiblog

J to L

@jadeoccelot - @jayniebear321 - @jirochan - @js-doodles - @juvialicious - @jxlight - @kagomenesan - @kanaehitomi - @kanarenee - @karokitten-chan - @keiid - @kenjocatze - @khaoticvex - @ki-nyong - @kipio - @kiss-me-khaos - @kissedbyiron - @kittyarts - @kkumri - @kristallin-f - @ladygt - @laharts - @lapoin - @laurentarzan - @leons-7 - @levycchi - @lezith - @lightalchemistfp-art - @liku-bears - @lissomeaid - @littlefairylevy - @locksters - @lolohime - @lonestorm - @love-n-lucky - @loveandlucky - @luciasatalina - @luckybachi - @lucy-ft - @lulu2222 - @lushinaa

M to O

@m-d-tr1 - @magerain - @mags-duranb - @maneaoana - @mangaguitar96 - @margherine - @meeredy - @melllllly - @micchiyume - @mirajanestrauss - @mirajens - @miss-fairy-tale - @miss-zei - @missnoirr - @missyplatinum - @momo-tari - @monoghost - @mrseucliffex - @mslead - @msktk - @mushi0131 - @n-a-d-h-i-e - @nalu-natic - @nalufever - @naluista - @nalutbh - @nanakoblaze - @nanashiart - @natsu-dorkneel - @natsv - @neato-ft - @neen-writes - @nicole4211 - @nie-ct - @nishi06 - @niue7 - @nsh92 - @ohmynatsu - @ooiikawas - @ootsukis - @ottotatertots - @oraclesoul

P to R

@papalogia - @pbbmk - @peoniespoppiesandowlsohmy - @phantombones - @phoenixx305 - @pinkhinori - @piranha-pk - @pocketwoman7 - @ponchizs - @poopblossom - @proudtobeaginger - @rainladyjuvia - @raezora - @rboz - @rchella - @rieriebee - @rivendell101

S to U

@s-a-r-a-r-a - @s-h-i-i-n-a - @sabizac - @samiichan - @sarapyon - @sarikos - @sassylin - @sayenisaperv - @secondorigin - @seiikas - @seiilah - @selenba - @semi-o - @seulil - @shadoouge - @shandisworld - @shiiemis - @shirookita - @siil-mallit - @silenced-desires - @sinnerela - @sirdragneel - @skullnar - @smaliorsha - @snogfairy - @snowmadien - @soprana-snap - @sorcerer-weekly - @spikerr - @spriggan-tail - @squisherific - @stephicool - @swordbreaker - @taleen777 - @tappity-tap - @tartatail - @thatartcorner - @the-archangel-of-zeref - @thecyberzombieart - @thefairywrites - @todorokii - @toxineena - @tsunderegirl13 - @tweekay - @umjustkatie - @unashamed-shipper - @unisonraidd

V to X

@vhazzrhossze - @viki-j-chan - @wendychuu - @whitedovehemlock - @whitefoxie - @whitemoonx9x - @wildrhov - @wombywoo - @writingissues - @x-benihime - @xdrawings-x - @xmelonhippo - @xternel

Y to Z

@yaushie - @yoriru - @youaintgotthefunk - @yukipandalove - @yuuba - @zakfair - @zerooff - @zippi44

If you have any comments, suggestions, or concerns…let me know—and I’ll make the changes to this list!

It was in the News

He parks his car in front of the factory gate and lifts his heavy body outside. Standing beside the open door he pulls the slightly slipped waistband over his wide butt again. As usual, he therefore hooks his thumbs in the waistband at the back and lets them slide forward without really expecting to pull it over his mighty, overhanging paunch.

“I really should lose weight,” he thinks.

He still feels the celebration of his fifty-ninth birthday in his bones. Nevertheless, he is more than punctual. He did not want to come too late on this date, to which the chairman of the board of directors had appointed him. He has no idea what exactly the occasion is. Just that it is about financial matters. But if a meeting is scheduled for a Saturday morning, it is certain that not everyone should know immediately what’s going on. As usual, he wears a suit and a tie, and quickly walks the few steps to the porter’s lodge. He bends forward until he is able to speak through the small window.

“Good Morning. My name is Krause. Otto Krause. I have a meeting with the board. ”

The doorkeeper puzzles in his book, then points on a spot with his finger.

“There you are. Otto Krause. One moment please.”

The doorkeeper closes the small window and comes out of his box.

“Well, would you please follow me, Mister Krause.”

The doorkeeper turns around and starts to walk so fast that the fat man has to strain himself to follow. Again and again he has to make one, two jump steps that let his belly bounce.

“Please slow down a little. No one is following us. ”

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I am not allowed to stay away from the gate too long.”

Breathing heavily, the fat man follows the doorkeeper across the factory until they finally enter an almost empty hall. The doorman walks on until he stands in front of one of the last heavy workbenches and turns around.

“Please wait here, I’ll be right back.”

While the doorkeeper leaves the hall, he sits with his hands on the workbench and breathes deeply through. As he breathes quietly again, he looks around. He has not been here since his apprenticeship. It’s been ages since then. After the apprenticeship he studied, then he became a department manager and now he is in the upper management. Since he carried out the restructuring, the company is doing well again; financially anyway. The fact that he had billed his expenses somewhat generously was actually his right. Only the board looked at this a little different.

“No tools, no machines. Almost empty. Maybe it’s about further use of this area. ”

He lifts his heavy onto the workbench.

“Wait and see what happens” he thinks.


A few minutes have passed when he hears footsteps and voices outside the hall. The gate opens and two people are coming towards him. He recognizes the doorman and the head of the personnel department. He immediately stands up and stands in front of the workbench. The two men quickly approach him.

“Good morning!” he calls out to them.

“Morning Mister Krause” the head of HR answers.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Not really. Why do we meet here? A strange place for a board meeting”

The head of HR becomes serious.

“It’s not a meeting.”

Krause looks questioning.

“You may know that some inconsistencies have occurred in your expense statements during the last revision.”

“Yes. But the restructuring was a success. You’ll probably be allowed to celebrate it.”

“Celebrate, yes. But not with money that does not belong to you.”

“Oh, come on. A few hundred Euro. I finally saved millions. ”

“It’s not about the amount, it’s about your behaviour. The chairman will dismiss you without notice for fraud and embezzlement. ”

Krause beckons.

“Slow down. We can talk about everything. ”

“The CEO may report you to the police. I checked the relevant laws. Fraud, embezzlement of company funds and the total amount; the courts are not squeamish in these cases. Three years imprisonment is the normal sentence. Then you are sixty-two and convicted. You will not get a job any more. And retirement? You will definitely not get any payments from the company. And you may also pay damages. ”

The fat man looks down on the ground.

“Is it true that you first denied everything?”

“Yes.”

The head of HR shakes his head.

“Mister Krause, I’m sorry to say so, but you’re an idiot.”

“Yes, yes, I know. That is why I am obviously here today. We could balance the sum with my salary. In that case I would work for almost nothing for a month. That should repair the damage.”

“If you are allowed to work here at all, then certainly not to your current references.”

Krause looks down on the floor and breathes a few times. Then he looks up again.

“Where should I work next?”

“That depends on how you behave today.”

Krause’s round face looks questioning.

“I told the chairman that he should think about the case again. After all, you’ve been working here for over 40 years, without any complaints. That’s why I’m authorized to make you an offer. ”

“What?”

“He renounces the termination of your contract and the report to the ploice if you agree to a physical punishment.”

Krause did obviously not understand.

“Okay. You keep your job and do not have to go to jail if you … ”

“If I what.”

“If you accept a corporal punishment.”

“Corporal punishment?”

“With a cane. You accept a couple of strokes with a cane. This is quite common in other countries as you probably know.”

The fat man gulps and looks at his opponent with a slightly open mouth.

“Come on. A few hits have never harmed anybody and are quickly done. We do not want to hang you at once.”

“Hang me?”

The fat man presses the lips together and twists his head slightly, as if he already feels the noose around his neck. Then he glances at the head of HR.

“No. Never. It’s out of the question.”

“So you’d rather go to prison?”

Krause turns around and starts to walk up and down, calculating the opportunities silently.

“You will not get a single room in prison. I could imagine that thieves, murderers and rapists would love to take care about a huge manager like you.”

The fat man comes back and stands in front of the head of HR.

“How many?”

“I do not know. The CEO just said that you should get yourself hooked up on the workbench and wait for what happens. He would think about time and quantity. Maybe nothing happens, and he just wants to show you that he got you at the balls.”

Krause goes back and forth, shakes his head and chews on the fingernails.

“Think about it. For the first time in prison at your age. They will break you in there. ”

Krause turns around abruptly.

“All right, I agree.”

The head of HR smiles at him.

“Very good.”

Then he steps aside and the porter comes up with a piece of paper, which he places on the workbench.

“Mister Krause, please sign.”

Krause takes the pen in his chubby hand and puts his name on it. The doorkeeper flies over it briefly and faces the fat man.

“Please stand in attention.”

The fat man gazes back and forth between the two men.

“Mister Krause, please,” says the head of HR,

“Remember your army time: heels together, head up, chest out.”

“All right. If that pleases you. ”

He takes a small step away from the workbench. Then he lets his hands sink down at the side of his trousers, straightens himself and stands firm in front of the doorman and the head of HR. The doorman is right in front of him.

“Mister Krause, you have agreed to be physically punished to avoid a denunciation. Please undress now for the execution.”

Krause does not react at first.

“Undress!” The doorman repeats a little more definite.

“What?”

“You have to undress, Mister Krause,” the doorman says quietly but very clearly.

The fat man looks a bit questioning to the head of HR.

“Please do what you are told to do. Or did you think you will be beaten, dressed in your suit?”

The fat man curses a few times quietly. The corners of his mouth tremble with rage, as he first strips off his shoes and takes off the jacket. His huge round paunch stretches the shirt and hangs over the belt. He looks around briefly. The doorman pushes an old chair toward him and the fat man puts the jacket over the backrest. Furiously, he opens his tie and the top buttons of the shirt. Then he opens the cuffs of his shirt and pulls it without opening it completely and together with the tie over his head. He puts his shirt over the back of the chair and pulls the waistband over his wide butt again. His white undershirt stretched tightly over the belly and his breasts. He looks at the porter, then the head of HR, but none of them shows any reaction.

“Assholes,” he mutters angrily.

He bends his massive upper body backwards and pulls in the belly vigorously to reach the belt, which he then opens with the right hand. He resolutely opens his waistband and fly, drops his trousers and steps out. He does not realize, that the two men look at the garters that prevent the black socks from slipping down the thick lower legs. Like his undershirt, his short, white briefs fit tightly around the massive body, so that his genitals are clearly visible on the front. He has drawn the briefs over his broad butt, but his paunch laps over it. The undershirt has slipped out at the front, so that naked belly fat appears between the shirt and the waistband of the underpants. When he starts to lift his undershirt, the porter stops him.

“That’s enough,” he says, signing the fat man to step closer to him.

“Hands forward.”

Krause reaches out his hands and holds them crosswise. The porter gets them at the wrist and turns them so that the underarms of the fat man are almost in parallel. Well skilled, the porter ties the forearms together with a rope slightly above the wrists.

“Finished.”

Krause pulls his hands back, but can not take them down and has to rest his hands on the belly.

“Please sit down on the bench.”

Hesitantly the fat man approaches the workbench and lifts his body on it. It is not easy with his hands tied together and his feet loosing contact to the floor. So he has to move on his wide but from side to side until he sits on the bench, feeling the cold wood through the briefs. He slowly bends backwards until he can not hold himself anymore and tilts on his back. At the same time he angles his legs and stretches his tied hands forward as if he is looking for a stop. Then he begins to jerk his fat body on the bench back and forth, until he is finally outstretched on the bench.

“Do you always wear garters, Mister Krause?”

Krause blushes. Just recently, he had bought a pair but only worn them when the press or television was around. Naked legs were supposed to be not telegenic. He doesn’t know why he put them on this morning. But how should he imagine that he had to expose himself in underwear, socks and garters.

“Also at the weekend?”

Krause lifts his head a little.

“Anything against it?” he barks at the head of HR who lifts his hands excusing.

“No, no. It was just a question. Would you please turn around lie on your belly?”

Cumbersome the fat man turns himself around, groaning quietly. He studs on his elbows and looks at his tormentors. The doorman steps behind him, ties his legs at the ankles and stretches them backwards. Then he walks around and stands in front of his victim.

“Your hands, please.”

The fat man stretches his arms, slipping with his elbows over the plate until he is only lying on his paunch. The doorman pulls his hands to the front, ties them to a rope, so that the fat body lies stretched on the bench. Krause is softly groaning while the porter has once again checks the shackles. He turns to the head of HR.

“I have to go back to the gate. And you?”

“Me too. We are finished here. ”

Krause turns its head.

“And what about me?”

“You have to wait here, Mister Krause.”

He gives the fat man another slap on the back, turns around and follows the porter. Alone in the hall, clothed only in underwear and socks, the fat man rapidly begins to freeze. Cold sweat forms on his fat body, he begins to tremble. Toughly the minutes pass, in which he can do nothing but wait and freeze with fear and cold. With every minute he realizes how his fat body squeezes the air out of him, he begins to groan and gasp for air. Finally, he hears footsteps behind him, coming through the hall toward him and stopping close to him. He tries to turn around, bends the fat body on the workbench to see who is behind him. But he immediately realizes that he will not succeed and so he stretches straight out again.

“There he is, my fat friend. How long is he lying here?”

He recognizes the voice of the chairman.

“Since half past ten, as you requested,”

The second voice is that of the doorman, who stands beside the CEO.

The chairman puts a hand on Krause’s butt, and then slowly walks along, carrying his hand across the back of the fat man. Finally he stands at the front of the bench. Krause tries to lift his head, but can not see the face of his boss. When he wants to let his head sink down again, he feels a hand under his chin. The chairman bends back the head of the fat man until he can look at it.

“And you obviously show remorse when you present yourself that way.”

“Yes,” Krause groans, “I regret all I have done. Really!”

“Oh that’s nice. But you know, fraud is the one thing; but this stubbornness, this criminal energy, right? ”

“Yes” the fat man groans.

“I’m sure you understand if I leave you here to think about your behaviour.”

“Yes, I understand,” he squeezes out hoarsely.

“And let the punishment be done a little later?”

Krause nods frantically, blasting the air. The chairman turns to the porter.

“Let him lie here for one more hour, and then he gets three times five strokes. I think that will be enough. ”

The chairman takes his hand away, and the fat man lets his head sink into his arms. Tears come into his eyes and he hears the two of them leave the hall.

The fat man remains alone in the hall tied on the workbench. Time stretches endlessly as he fights constantly against the increasing shortage of breath and convulsions.


suddenly he again hears someone entering the hall. He finally recognizes a big, powerful man in a gray tunic.

“Hannes? Is that you?”

“Yes, Otto, it is me.”

“Please untie me. Please, please,” the fat man stammers.

The man goes down to his knees and looks directly into Krause’s face.

“Do you remember how we started here?”

“Of course I know that,” the fat man replies angrily.

“I was the last production manager and you were a board member. Then you reorganized the company and now you’re still in the board and I’m a caretaker.”

“I got you a new job.”

“I’m grateful for that.”

“Then please untie me.”

“No way, Otto. We are not that far yet. First I have to give you the strokes that the boss has requested.”

The fat man lifts his head.

“Do you really want to hit me?”

“I have to. The boss ordered that you get three times five strokes before you are allowed get up. ”

“But you can not do that. Please. I will not betray you either. ”

“Oh no. I’m glad I got this job and I do not want to lose it. I only do what I am told. I have nothing against you personally. Really. But job is job, I’m sorry. ”

He walks around the workbench, hooks a pulley into the rope at the ankles, and starts quietly to tension him. The fat man hears the squeaking of the reels.

“What are you doing?” Krause asks in horror.

“I’m really sorry for you, but I have to stretch you before I start. So that you don’t move and stay firmly in that position,” says the caretaker, while slowly stretching the pulley block.

“You got fat within the last years, Otto. Surely 120kg, right?”

Krause does not answer. He groans only softly as the cords continue to tighten. The caretaker stops briefly with his work.

“Come on. How much do you put on the scales. ”

Krause remains silent, only breathes audible.

“I may have a look on your last health check. But this takes of course some time and you will have to lie here. So what is your weight now? 120? 130? ”

“125” squeezes the fat man.

The caretaker turns back to the pulley and stretches his victim. Krause notes how the shackles begin to dig into his ankles. Then he slips a few inches with the belly over the bench and his handcuffs begin to cut into the wrists. The fat  man throws his head back and blows the air out of thick cheeks.

“Please stop! I admit everything! ” he cries with fear in his voice.

“You do not have to admit anything,” he hears the caretaker from behind, “but you should relax. Then stretching is not too painful. ”

Krause breathes a few times frantically, then lets the head sink forward, exhaling deeply. The caretaker pulls the pulley evenly tighter and tighter. The cords are carving into the wrists and ankles of the fat man and stretch his body, until he can’t move any more. A deep moaning comes out of his wide opened mouth before his head sinks down to the workbench and he breathes frantically. The caretaker once again checks the pulley, walks around the workbench, takes an old blackboard from the background and places it in front. From the back of the board he takes out a long cane, which he places lengthwise between his victims arms, so that he has to look at it. He opens his smock and places it at the blackboard. He takes the cane into his right hand and strikes it through the air a few times, creating a whistling sound. Then he turns to the fat man, who is facing him with a painful look.

“Fifteen strikes for a deceiver are actually very little. So let’s start, I want to be ready by noon.”

The caretaker walks slowly to the legs of the fat man who groans on the workbench. He already noticed the garters at the very beginning, but now he can not stand any more. He pushes his index finger under the rubber band and lifts it a few inches.

“How long have you been wearing garters, Otto?”

Krause tries to ignore his tormentor and looks sniffing straight.

“Wasn’t it incredibly embarrassing when you had to drop your pants and stand there in garters?”

“Yes,” Krause grunts.

“That’s good to know. So I leave everything as it is, although I should actually push your socks down. It is already enough naked skin to see for a couple of hits.”

So the caretaker lets the rubber snap and steps back slightly. He places the stick on the naked part between the socks and the rubber band of the garters, and stops when the tip of the cane just reaches out over the tightly lying calves. Slowly he lifts the stick over his head, hesitates a second, and then slams hard. The fat man twitches and holds his breath. The caretaker walks slowly to the blackboard, notes the strike and goes back to the end of the workbench. The fat man tries to look over his shoulder. He sees the caretaker stand beside him and lift his hand with his cane over his head. He hesitates again, giving the next blow to the thighs of the fat man, who groans and throws his head back. Again, the caretaker goes forward and notes the blow, then slowly returns, raises the cane, hesitates and then again hits hard and precisely on the calves of the fat man, who throws his head to the neck and squeezes his mouth not to scream. Slowly, the caretaker goes to the blackboard, notes the blow, and goes back to his last position. He raises the cane, hesitates briefly and then hits the thighs of the fat victim again, who groans briefly and tightens his fat body. While he is still struggling for air, the caretaker goes back to the blackboard to make a note. When he returns he speaks to the fat man.

“I will give you the fifth blow on the calves again; agreed?”

“Please …” Krause groans.

“Fine, your calves are thick enough for three strikes,” the caretaker laughes.

Then he raises his cane again, hesitates and hits hard for the third time on the fat calves, which makes Krause cramp in pain. When the caretaker returned from the blackboard, the fat man still struggles for air. He pets him on the back.

“You have to relax. Everything is easier to bear then. Believe me. I’m not doing this for the first time. ”

Krause breathes deeply in and out, dropping the head to the forward stretched arms. In doing so, he notes how the caretaker grasps his undershirt and rips it with a hard tug. Krause feels the cold air on his wet, sweaty back.

“Well, let’s go on.”

Again, the caretaker takes his cane, stands beside his fat victim, and looks at Krause huge belly swelling out on both sides.

“You became that fat on my expences, you pig,” he thinks.

He raises the cane over his head, hesitates and then hits hard on the wide back lying in front of him. Krause groans and bends his fat body.

“Five strokes on such a broad hump. That is ridiculous.”,

the caretaker mutters to himself, as he goes to the blackboard to record the blow. When he is standing next to the fat man again, he speaks to him.

“Can you tell me how I should smash your back with just five blows?”

Krause does not answer, groans only softly. Then he hears the whistle of the cane again, and feels the piercing pain as the stick hits his back in the middle. His fat body cramps and he hears a deep scream coming out of his mouth. When he recovers his breath, the caretaker is already standing next to him, pushing his pants back slightly, so that the hips are no longer covered. The fat man is waiting for the next blow. His lips tremble, tears rise into his eyes. The caretaker reaches out and strikes the cane with all his power across Krause’s fat hips. Krause throws his head back, opens his mouth, but only a hoarse rattle comes out of his throat, then his head sags forward. After the caretaker has recorded the blow, he pets the fat man on the tied hands.

“Now it’s time for lunch.”

He puts the cane away, loosens the pulley block, unpacks thermos, bread and newspaper, and sits down next to the fat man, whimpering on the workbench.


After his break, the caretaker stows away his stuff.

“Well, let’s start again.”

He goes back and starts to tension the pulley again. Krause wakes up. He recognizes that he is stretched again, stretched hard at arms and legs until he can’t move anymore.

"Your weight is 125 kilos?”

The fat nods.

“Or perhaps 140?”

He stretches the thickness even more.

“130” Krause groans.

“130?”

The porter stretches the fat man. The cords creak and dig into the thick arms and leg.

“134!” he presses out.

The doorkeeper fixes the rope and stands next to his victim.

“You were lying, Otto. I have to report this. You know the company standards. But for now I will only finish the actual punishment. So please stay calm. We’ll be ready soon. ”

He fetches his cane, then stands next to his victim and strikes hard on his hump. The fat man groans only briefly without lifting the head. The caretaker notes the blow on the blackboard. When he comes back he speaks to the fat man.

“The last one was a little weak. But I’ll do it now. ”

He stands beside his victim and puts the cane on the fat hips. The fear of the next blow lets Krause tremble uncontrolled and suddenly he senses a warmth between his thighs. He can‘t prevent his bladder from failing and his warm urine to spread beneath him. He feels the wetness between the thighs as it spreads under his belly and let howl with shame. The caretaker looks grinning, as a puddle forms under his victim, which quickly seeps through the wood of the bench and drips to the ground.

“Fear?” He asks, and the fat man nods.

“You have every reason for that.”

Then he reaches out and strikes his cane once more across the fat hips. The fat man cramps and cries out loud. After the caretaker has recorded the blow, he slowly passes his victim until he stands beside his butt. As the caretaker pulls the waist of his underpants, he throws his head.

“No! Please, no,” he calls desperately.

But the caretaker rips the fabric with a hard jerk, so the whole ass is lying naked in front of him.

“It’s only five on the bare ass. You will stand that with such a gorgeous butt. And besides, your briefs are completely wet because you’ve pissed yourself, Otto. ”

The caretaker gently caresses the bulging butt in front of him. Then he lifts the cane over his head, hesitates and hits with all his power. A red line immediately forms on the white skin. The fat cramps together, screaming loudly before his head falls on the arms. Tears run down his cheeks.

The caretaker performs the rest of the sentence without a word. Krause obviously surrenders, and only mutes his massive body when a blow hits him. After every hit, the caretaker goes to the blackboard, notes it, and returns to his whimpering victim. For the last time, he stands beside him, lifts the cane over his head and then pulls him hard over the naked, wide butt. The fat man only twitches briefly, as if he had grown accustomed to the burning pain. The caretaker lets his eyes spread over the fat body and nods contentedly. Fifteen dark red lines stand out on the white skin, distributed between the shoulders and the feet. He goes to the board, notes the blow, and turns to his victim.

“Well, that’s it.”

Krause breathes heavily, struggles for air, while his tormentor walks along him, touching the strokes easily with his hand.

“Please. I can’t stand this any longer,” Krause groans.

“Well, you’ll have to wait a little longer, dear.”

The caretaker slowly goes to the pulley block. As he loosens it, the fat man blows out the air audibly, and his still tied legs. The fat man expects his bonds to be taken off. But the caretaker bends over him, picks up a tensioning chain from the other side of the workbench and places it over his back. Krause notes the cold steel on the skin and tries to turn the head.

“What are you doing there?”

He asks anxiously, noting the chain is tightened over his back, digging itself in his back and pressing his body on the bench. The caretaker removes the rope from the fat man’s wrists, and immediately Krause tries to reach the chain over his back.

“Stop doing that. You can’t do anything.”

The caretaker looks calmly as the fat man in front of him desperately tries to reach the lock of the chain. After only one or two attempts, the Krause surrenders and lets the head sink to the bench.

“Well, then,” says the caretaker.

“Now take your hands on your back.”

“What for?”

The caretaker grasps the cane.

“Just do it.”

The fat man slowly pushes his hands back and tries to cross them on his back. But because of his massive body he can only lay his hands on his hips. He notes how the caretaker pulls a cord under his arms and pushes it up to the elbows. Then the caretaker pulls the rope with all his power. Krause’s upper arms are thrown on the back of the fat man, he groans loudly, distorts his face, bends the upper body backwards. The caretaker knots rope quickly at the elbows, so that the upper body is always slightly bent back even when the fat victim relaxes. In the meantime, the caretaker removes the bonding at Krause’s ankles. As he begins to pull the right foot to the side and ties it to the bench, the fat man begins to stomp and twist his fat body. He knows what is ahead of him and starts to roar.

“No!! Don’t do that! NO!! NO!!”

But the caretaker catches his free leg, with which he kicks in the air and tiesit to the other side of the bank. With his legs slightly apart, the caretaker is now standing next to his victim, and he can see the large, hairy testicles hanging low between the thighs. He reaches into a bucket of grease, which stands under the bench and rubs his hands in a position next to Krause’s face, so that he must see it.

“Your first time, Otto?”

Krause stares at the greasy hands and gulps.

“Then you should relax. Actually, I wanted to fuck you. But I don’t want to make myself unnecessarily dirty. ”

The caretaker walks quietly past his victim until he stands beside his butt. He puts the greasy hand on the cheeks and pushes them slowly into the rear sight, until he can feel the anus of his victim with his finger. Slowly he orbits the sphincter, and strengthens slightly the pressure on the anus of the fat man, who strains, groans and tries to press his anus. The caretaker enjoys, as his victim winds, knowing that there is no chance for him. He turns around a little and puts his forearm between the fat thighs, without reducing the pressure on the sphincter. His finger now points straight at the anus, and with a twisting motion he finally lets it slide inside until his knuckles reach the sphincter. Krause breathes loudly and groaning as he notices how something penetrates his anus and is slowly moved in it. He can’t stop his bent legs from twitching involuntarily as he feels the hand of the housekeeper at his glans.

“Is a small cock required to become a board member?”

Krause does not answer but moans softly. He had never had this feeling of fear and excitement that begins to spread in his guts. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply and evenly. He is confused because he is no longer resisting, but enjoys the pleasant feeling that flows through him when his tormentor’s finger presses against his prostate.

A mixture of shame and pride fills him up when he realizes how his penis becomes hard in the hand of the caretaker. Nevertheless, he is relieved when he feels the grip on his glans vanishes and the finger is pulled out of his anus. He breathes deeply, hoping that this has been the end of his humiliation. The caretaker slowly walks along his fat victim until he stands in front of the blackboard, wiping his hands with a rag.

“You’re already dripping, like a young bride.”

The fat man tries to see what the caretaker does. There is horror in his face as he turns around and slowly greases a wooden pole with a knob on one end.

“No,” he whispers in fear of what is ahead of him.

He senses the fear in the stomach and his cock, which pushes hard against his body.

“Please no”

The caretaker slowly returns. As he pushes his buttocks wide with one hand, Krause begins to groan. The caretaker leads the cane between the butt buttocks, touches the anus of the fat man, who compresses the buttocks again and rears the upper body

“Please, please no,” howls the fat man.

He feels the fear in the stomach down to the testicles.

“You should not fight back, Otto, or it will hurt,” says the caretaker,

Strengthens easily the pressure on the anus of the fat man

“I can not do that,” Krause whispers,

bending the upper body and compressing the buttocks. The caretaker simply waits, holding the stick with light pressure on the anus. Finally, the fat man surrenders powerless. He sinks down slowly, breathing deeply, and relaxing his buttocks.

“Well, that’s how it goes”

“Oh God, oh God” Krause groans as he feels the cane beginning to spread the sphincter and slowly penetrates into it. The caretaker observes how the sphincter slowly widens. How often had he visualized this picture in the last few years and often enough he was masturbating at night. He enjoys the way the fat man winds in front of him and winches again and again. From time to time he reduces the pressure and allows the fat man to push the stick out again. He pauses for a moment and then increases the pressure again. Slowly the caretaker leads the pole deeper and deeper into the anus of the fat man groaning on the workbench. Krause feels his anus being stretched further and further, has the feeling as if it would be torn appart. He always tries to beg for mercy, but he only produces gurgling and moaning sounds. He twists his eyes, but no scream leaves his mouth, opened wide in pain and fear. Little by little his anus expands when his tormentor increases the pressure. Then suddenly he realizes how his sphincter relaxes and he breathes more easily. The thickest part of the pole has passed his anus and now slides deeper into it, slowly and without any pressure. Krause one feels the pole in his cock, feels as it pushes against his gut and slides along it. Deeper and deeper, the caretaker pushes the cane. When the fat man feels that the cane comes out of his belly button, he rears the upper body and pokes out a short scream. The caretaker stops briefly, then begins to slowly move the stick back and forth, up and down, watching the reactions of the fat man. His free hand slips into his pocket and starts to masturbate his own cock.

“That’s right, fatso. Fight and struggle,” he thinks.

The fat man in front of him winds, groaning loudly as the cane drifts deep into his bowel. He watches thick drops of sweat appear on the broad back, and in thin streaks run down the bulging belly, on which he rolls back and forwards in pain. Actually, the caretaker wanted to intrude the pole into the fat man in its entire length. Deeper and deeper. Until it gets out of the mouth of this fat asshole. He wanted to impale him. Slowly, very slowly. He should know what happens to him. But he notices that at a certain position of the stick his fat victim groans deeply and moves the wide butt in circles. Without knowing it, he presses the tip of the stick against the prostate of the fat man and forces him to uncontrolled movements.

“That’s even better,” he thinks, as he reaches this point again.

The fat man shrugs his legs and pelvis, grunts deeply and persistently. Then he realizes how the caretaker grasps between his legs and holds his testicles firmly.

“You pig, you miserable pig.”

Krause groans, as the caretaker pulls his testicles back. For a long time the caretaker had imagined this moment. He quickly puts a thin wire loop around the ball sac and tightens it. Actually, he wanted to castrate the fat man during the impalement, like a piglet. Now he pulls the testicles backwards, until the skin of the sack lies tightly around them and fixes them with the wire to the stick. Krause suffers of a piercing pain. He bends his upper body back and screams. The caretaker releases the stick and watches it slowly sliding back into the gut by the contraction of the ball sac of his fat victim. When the end of the cane touches the prostate of the fat man again, he trembles with excitement. The caretaker looks at the shaking fat of his victim, and the long thread of secretion, which hangs down from the uncovered, dark red tip of the now highly sensitive penis. As he slowly pulls out the stick again and he rubs his own hard cock with his other hand. Further and further he stretches the testicles of the fat man, until the piercing pain makes him squeek.

“Another short jerk, and your eggs would be gone, fatso,” he thinks.

He had imagined this moment so often. Only a short jerk and a small turn and the balls would fall down and lie between the legs of this fat pig. But instead, he releases the stick again. Krause feels the stick slide slowly back into his bowel, finally touching his prostate gently and creating this strange feeling of excitement and nervousness that lets his hard penis bounce.

The caretaker opens his pants, pulls out his big, hard cock, and slowly lets his hand slide over its entire length. He pulls the pole back and pulls the ball sac of his victim longer and longer.

“Did you ever imagine to be castrated, Otto?”

The fat man only groans, squeezes the air with a dark red head, grips in the air with hands helplessly. The piercing pain hits him in the belly again. He rears up and shouts with a tilting voice. The caretaker enjoys the sight of the fat man. Sweating and whimpering in fear. He easily touches the now deep red, dripping glans.

“But I do not want to be that cruel. I’ll let you have one shot before your balls fall down.”

He again increases the stress to the testicle.

“And the sooner you come, the sooner you balls are off,” he says just before he releases the pole, which immediately slides back into the gut of the fat man. Krause presses and blows the air with thick cheeks. He gasps for air, sweat runs down his face. When his prostate is touched again, he has to bend his legs as if compelled, and rebounds the upper body. Krause gasps for air, is close to ejaculate. He moans loudly, throws his head back and his hands move helplessly in the air. At the same time, he winds the upper body and struggles with his fixed legs, wiggling back and forth on his belly. His testicles ache, he shrugs, moans and snaps, rolls back and forth on his paunch. Then he tightens the upper body, his whole fat body begins to tremble as he realizes he can’t hold back any longer.

“It’s coming,” he moans softly.

He twists his eyes, saliva runs out of his mouth. He blows, feels how the sperm oozes out, without having an orgasm. Then his head falls forward and he exhausted struggles for air. The caretaker looks closely at how the sperm drips from the bouncing cock of the fat man, gets the still erected penis of the fat man and slowly starts stroking the dark red, moisty glans while he masturbates at the same time. Immediately Krause begins to frantically rumble and prick. He lifts his head, stretches the body once again. He turns his eyes up, groans deeply from the torn mouth. His testicles ache, his hands grip helplessly in the air, his whole body trembles and makes his fat wobble. Suddenly his body tenses. He groans loudly in this forced orgasm, feels how once again sperm is driven out of his penis and at the same time feels something warm on his butt. He can’t see that the caretaker has shot a huge amount of sperm on his butt, which is now slowly running down. His head sinks exhausted, he groans contentedly and pulls the air deep into his massive body.

The caretaker releases his penis and wipes his hands on the thighs of his victim. He closes his pants and after a minute or two he takes the pole again and pulls it back slowly, stretching once again the balls until the fat man’s face twitches with pain.

“Well, Otto. Say "goodbye” to your balls.“

The fat man wants to beg for mercy, but the pain which rushes through his body makes him faint.

The caretaker loosens the wire, the bonding at the elbows and the feet of the fat man, who’s arms and legs drop powerless. He gives him a few minutes before he wakes him up with a few pats on the cheeks. The fat man groans softly in pain and is unable to move. Now the caretaker starts to remove the pole from the anus of his victim and enjoys once again his grunting. Finally, he loosens the chain above the upper body, grabs him by the shoulders and straightens him until he sits on the bench, moaning broadly and painfully. The caretaker pushes a rag on his stomach.

"Clean up that mess, fatso.”

Krause wants to push his right hand under his stomach and between his legs. He has infernal pain. But the caretaker slaps him.

“Hands off.”

Tears stream into Krause’s eyes.

“You really castrated me?”

The caretaker grins at him, whereupon the fat begins to cry unrestrainedly.

“It would have been easy. But I have not done it. ”

The fat man lolls himself from the bench, and naked as he is begins to wipe his sperm and urine, with the caretaker facing and watching him. Finally, he throws Krause’s clothes on the bench.

“Get dressed.”

Slowly the fat man puts his clothes on, and he groans again and again when he touches his wounds or his maltreated testicles. Finally, he buttons the jacket in front of his belly and stands with trembling corners of his mouth in front of the caretaker.

“Come along.”

The fat man follows the caretaker waddling through the plant until they are standing in front of the office of the chairman. The caretaker knocks, opens the door, and knows the thickness to enter. The chairman sits behind his desk and looks up briefly.

“Mister Krause, as you requested, Sir,” says the caretaker

The chairman reaches for a thin booklet, which is lying on his desk, gets up, and stretches out his hand. Krause hesitates.

“Mister Krause, every thing okay? I hope you do not need a doctor now. ”

Krause shakes his head silently.

“Very good. As you accepted, that I had to punish you anyway, that was the better solution, wasn’t it?”

The fat man nods silently.

“And after you’ve supported your punishment so well, I will let the whole matter rest.”

“Thank you,” Krause says voicelessly.

The director offers the file and the fat man takes it slowly.

“This is your new contract. You will be the head of our local office in Tehran. But I want to advise you to follow the local laws. Penalties are publicly executed there. Do you understand me?”

Krause nods.

“All right, then we’ll meet on Monday.”

Krause turns around and leaves the factory slowly, with shuffling steps. His testicles bounce loose in his pants and without underwear he feels strangely naked.

When he falls into the seat of his car, he moans. Trembling he opens the fly and lets his hand hesitantly slip inside. He lets his hand run down his naked belly and finally touches his aching testicles with his fingertips and smiles weakly, tears in his eyes. He had never thought about the pleasure to touch his own balls and find them at the place, where they used to be.

He starts the car.

The music from the radio becomes quieter and the anchorman starts.

“You’ve heard it in the news, but we have to come back to this topic again. Despite of international protests, the regime in Tehran has executed the castration of two men in public. The 49 and 56-year-old managers of an international company had previously been convicted by a jury of embezzlement and bribery … ”

Ouija Board Safety (AND WHY YOU SHOULD BE A LITTLE CAUTIOUS)

Ouija boards are generally a fairly infamous and taboo topic among people of all backgrounds. From popular culture, to stories we’ve all somehow heard, everyone has their fair share of misinformation and truths that compile into our subsequent agreeing or disagreeing with the use of this tool. This is my fairly well-informed two cents on the topic. It’s not the absolute truth, and I’d love to hear your thoughts/opinions/questions on the matter,


  • Should I use one?: That is a question that you will have to answer for yourself. Generally, it is best to stay away from ouija boards if you are afraid of them, or afraid of the dead. There’s a good change that fearful energy will draw beings to you that are amused by this, and possibly even beings that will feed off of your nervousness. The more scared you get, the more scary things they can do (going from moving the planchette to tapping or banging on things). It can be a vicious cycle, because if you are too scared, you might not close the connection properly. Similar logic applies to if you have a debilitating mental illness; certain beings will be attracted to this, and they may worsen your condition.

    You may also wish to weigh how much you know about defending yourself from spirits and various other entities that may cause you harm. There’s not a guarantee that you’ll encounter one, but I feel as though it’s better to be safe than sorry.
  • But is it dangerous?: The answer to this question is sort of a “ehhhhhh” sound and a noncommittal hand gesture. A lot of negative things can contact you via the board. Not everything you contact will be negative, but there’s some risk involved. Think of it like driving: you have no real way of knowing if you are going to be okay after getting in the car, but you’re pretty sure it’s fine. No one should be doing it without having learned how to do it properly. If you have learned, and you’re not doing it under the influence, terrified, or in a bad state of mind, then you probably have a better chance of doing it safely. If you take proper precautions like wearing a safety belt (or, in this case, whatever your general protections against negative energies happen to be), then you’re in even better shape. Still, sometimes you’re going to be one of the unlucky few who gets into a crash for no good reason. Even more commonly, you may experience a “driver” with a seriously awful case of road rage. The best way to avoid this? Don’t be a moron, and make sure that you are polite!
  • Polite?: You’ve got to know by now that the dead command respect. Generally, treat them like you would a living being. No screaming at them to leave, no sudden and invasive questions (how did you die?), no asking them random and petty questions about yourself, no condescending attitude, no forcing them away because you’d rather talk to someone else. Use some common sense.
  • I heard that something can come out of the board!: Well, erm, yes and no. It’s not unheard of for this to happen if something was bound to the board, but that is so severely unlikely that it’s ridiculous. Of course, things that you contact can surely follow you! In the case of a ‘negative’ or ‘neutral’ being, maybe they got a rise off of you, or maybe you were rude. These things won’t always hurt you, but if you’re unsure of squeamish, they can scare you. There’s that aforementioned vicious cycle again. There’s also more positive beings. They were probably already with you, got in touch with you through the board, and may protect you or make themselves known in times of hardship and need. Remember, not everything is always as it seems. You wouldn’t fully trust a living stranger to be in your home or in your space, would you? Then why would you trust a dead one?
  • Can I play alone?: Technically, you could. You might not drum up enough energy for a stable connection, though. Also, there is some safety in numbers, since others can help you to clean negative energies and take leadership if you do wind up getting scared.
  • I don’t want my board anymore: Then don’t feel obligated to keep it. You could give your board to someone else (perhaps it requires a more experienced handler?), you could cut it up into pieces, or you could bury it. I, personally, recommend against burning it, since if something were to be bound to it, and things were worded just right… Well, you’ve now released it. It might do some good to purify your area/board with sage or citrine.
  • Personal opinions: I generally don’t like it when I hear about the use of them. Most people aren’t educated in being polite to spirits, and most people lack the resources and knowledge to properly protect themselves if they need to. Some others who think that they know can be too cocky, read as condescending, and make the entity communicating with them think that they are rude. If someone is knowledgeable and following all of the above, I don’t see an issue. The problem is that often times people are not. As in, often enough to make me wary. People playing with the board as a game are fine!… as long as they’re not scared or intoxicated or likely to disrespect spirits, which is so often not the case that I hate that, too. As for myself? I don’t really feel the need to use a board, and likely never will. I communicate with, summon, and get followed by or found by so many spirits already that I think it would become exhausting to me. That, and while I’m sure I wouldn’t be scared of the dead, there’s always a risk that some tricky little creature might set off my anxiety, and while I know how to handle creatures feeding off of me, it’s something I try to avoid when it’s unnecessary. 
One Exception

Summary: Phil usually can’t stand the sight of blood, but it’s different whenever Dan gets hurt. Fluffy phan one-shot!

Ever since he could remember, Phil had always felt squeamish around blood. That was why he’d never became a veterinarian after all, because the sight of blood made him feel faint and sick. It was like that all throughout his childhood actually. The very smell and sight of the red substance would just cause his tummy erupt with nausea and more often than not, he would pass out.

It wasn’t that big of a deal really. It wasn’t like people just went around bleeding everywhere, and horror movies were different because he knew for a fact that it was just fake blood, and he didn’t actually have to smell it.

There was, however, one exception to his fear of blood.

Dan.

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#FATATTACK2016

First, let me say, if seeing fat on a person bothers you, makes you squeamish or fills you with the need to send anon hate, you need to keep scrolling now.

If you’re still with me:

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A/N: Autumn Fic Meme - #6: Ghost stories (I didn’t really stick to the ‘ghost’ part of it, but oh well, haha). You can find the autumn fic meme post here! Feel free to continue to send anymore prompts in! But I know this ask shows two fic prompts, so I’ll have to come back to this and write for the other one later. :)

Word count: ~830

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Major Crimes Monday-Hiatis

Just to stay with Major Crimes on Monday there is one thing about this past year that is still sticking at me and I guess it’s time to let it out. There seems to be an assumption out there, touched on by James Duff, that Shandy fans want/expect Andy to walk into Sharon’s office, fling everything off her desk, toss up her skirt and take her right there–probably with the blinds open for everyone to see.

OK, so no. While I’m not going lie and say many of us wouldn’t want to see that (thankfully we have fanfic for that) I find it rather insulting that he thinks we expect to see that on a Major Crimes episode and are disgruntled because that isn’t what he is giving us. He seems to be unable to understand that Shandy fans simply want him to show that these two people actually have a relationship. We certainly saw enough of it with Brenda and Fritz, and let’s face it Brenda and Fritz brought their relationship into the workplace far more than Sharon and Andy.

It is totally understandable that Sharon and Andy would be very careful at work. Their relationship is important and they don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize it. But we could certainly have had more outside the workplace scenes that showed their growing relationship. Those scenes would serve two purposes, to show us these two characters outside of work and what kinds of things they enjoy doing as well as the audience getting to actually SEE their relationship.

We all know the cardinal rule of writing “Show don’t tell.” You’d think the writers would actually have this concept down and I find it rather shocking that they don‘t.  I also get that you can’t show everything. I had a professor once say that he believed good writing was a combination of 70% show 30% tell. What we have gotten from Shandy is 1% show and 99% tell.

Now I’m not talking about devoting an entire episode focused on the out of work goings on between Sharon and Andy–though how GREAT would that be—there are a lot of ways Duff could have shown us the growth of this relationship rather than simply having them tell us they had a conversation about something or through Rusty relating something to us.

Here are just a few of the many things I think  could have subtly worked into the episodes.

How to show a date-

Andy and Sharon are dressed up and dining at a fancy restaurant,candlelight, soft music etc. when a call comes that they’ve caught a case.

Andy and Sharon are all dressed up in evening wear at a charity event. They are slow dancing when they get a call that they’ve caught a case. Would love to see Andy in a tux and Sharon in a long gown. And how much fun would Greg LaVoi shopping for those outfits!

Andy and Sharon are dressed casually and are cooking a meal together in Sharon’s kitchen.  Andy leans into her from behind to reach for something, pushes aside her hair and kisses the back of her neck. She shivers but tells him not to get started or she’s going to burn whatever it is she has cooking. He tells her she’s more tempting than any food they are cooking. She smiles at him and they share the Shandy heart eyes. We cut to Provenza arriving at a crime scene asking “Where’s Flynn?” Tao says “He was at the Captain’s. He’s on his way.” Provenza rolls his eyes “Ye Gods.” Tao grins. “You better get used to it.” Provenza glares, huffs and walks away. With those two scenes we could have seen the burgeoning Shandy relationship and that the entire team has now been told they are a couple.

Andy and Sharon are at a football game-maybe with Andy’s grandkid’s– when one of the players ends up dead and they have to call in a homicide. Another chance to revisit Sharon’s choice not to take the NFL job. 

An actual KISS-

Andy and Sharon are standing outside Sharon’s door. Sharon seems a little nervous about inviting Andy in. He gives her a break and says “Look Sharon I know you want to take things slow. I’m not going to push you into anything you’re not ready for. But I would like to kiss you goodnight. She smiles and he gives her a sweet tender kiss ON THE LIPS. They share the Shandy heart eyes, Sharon enters her apartment in a rather dreamy state. Rusty is on his computer, looks up, sees the look on Sharon’s face and says “I don’t want to hear about it.” She giggles that little Sharon giggle says good night and heads down toward her bedroom her fingers reaching up to touch her lips. (Sort of reminiscent of her “romantic” moment when she walked away after Andy first asked her out)

How we could have been shown they’d begun sleeping together-

Andy and Sharon are supposed to be on a weekend getaway at a beach bungalow. They are  having a romantic walk hand in hand on the beach at sunset when someone starts screaming about a dead body. The episode begins. Sharon is all professional and Andy is grumbling about their ruined weekend. Sharon reminds him it wasn’t all a bust and kind of purrs “We did have one night, Andy” He grins, but then sulks. One night wasn’t enough.

Easy way out-Andy and Sharon are asleep in bed at his or her place when a call comes in saying they caught a case. They could be in nightwear but I don’t think it would be that big a deal to have a Roslin/Adama bed scene where we can see that Andy and Sharon have made love because they are naked under the covers, but it doesn’t have to be in your face.

And since Duff loves Rusty so much how about Rusty wakes up, heads to the bathroom sleepy in his pj’s and just about to knock on the door hears Andy and Sharon inside laughing softly. He grimaces and walks away embarrassed.

Or if that’s too risque for him, how about just having Andy and Sharon coming out of her bedroom in their bathrobes and heading to the breakfast table where Rusty is sitting. Rusty is awkwardly silent  and Andy and Sharon are sharing humorous looks.

Now these are all ways Duff could get around his weird kind of squeamishness when it comes to Sharon and Andy but I also think the audience would not find it off putting at all to see some of the playful kissing we got with Brenda and Fritz. I’m not sure if it’s an “age” thing or what his problem is, but hell, Carson and Mrs. Hughes got more kissing than Andy and Sharon have had so far!

I really hope Duff loosens up on the back 8 episodes and stops writing Andy and Sharon like they are platonic roommates rather than lovers in a loving, sexual, committed relationship. Sharon is the lead in the show so it is certainly not strange to think we would see more of her outside of work than the other characters. We need more Mary!

Steve Gets A Padawan

(It’s probably Yoda’s fault.)


So, hi there!  I wanted to wait until I had more written before starting to post, but then I said, screw it I’ll be waiting forever.  This very happily makes the first post nice and light and fluffy.

The first post of what, you might ask?  Welcome to marvel wars.  I’m pretty sure nobody’s done anything like this before (I checked).  This is a crossover between Star Wars and Marvel Cinematic Universe, more or less.  Plus whoever else decides to wander into it (keep your eyes open for Deadpool, I don’t want him wrecking everything).

Filed under: main universe.  Because ALL THE AUS is a thing, apparently.  The bunnies keep eating at my brain.

(my friend saner will probably never hit the reblog faster.  it’s mostly her fault this exists.)


Keep reading

Monday Recommendations (1)

For this installment, as you may have noticed, I realized that I’d missed a trick by going with Tues and Thurs posts, when MONDAY and thursday posts would match up with the old Fedora Mondays – not to mention the way my brain still expects a lizzington boost on Mondays not Thursdays ;). We’re still continuing the “On the Run” Themed fics for this week, since there are so many more than worth a read. I want to take a turn on another theme next week though, so message me if you want to see a paricular genre. I would also like to encourage you folks, both as a rec'er and also as writer, to leave a little comment for the author if you like a fic you read, it really does help the reader feel like they’ve got an audience and not just a silent void. Now, on with the show.

Persephone by collectorofwonder​ (WIP)

“Red and Lizzy are in the wind while the task force works doggedly under Ressler’s command to hunt them down. As Ressler’s preconceptions about the world and his role in it begin to crumble, the task force once again finds themselves allied with Reddington in order to catch one of the most dangerous arms of the Cabal: the covert operative known only as Persephone. Post S2E22″

Everyone should be reading this fic! It’s the most comprehensive mytharc-repairing and illuminating fic I’ve seen yet in this fandom, and the author is unfolding it in a deft way that is SO MUCH easier to understand than the canon. The inclusion of side characters like Ressler and Samar and her own additions keeps the story universe seeming big and well populated without any hint that the side characters are secretly the focus or that they detract at all from the focus on Liz and Red. The characterization of both Liz and Red is easy, even-handed, incisive and sympathetic. 

I fully see this fic as a new classic in the fandom.

A Kiss For This by Lakeylou (complete)

“Lizzie kisses Red three times. Three short chapters. Red&Liz on the run. Lizzington.”

A sweet, wonderful, involving fic with three successive shorts illustrating the progression of Liz realizing her feelings about Red. I love this writer’s style and their characterization is accurate and delicious. I love the first two but the third part is really the star for me, with an incredibly sweet (but believably so) Liz and a wonderfully caring Red. Great on its own or used as an antidote to angst ;)

Don’t Forget Me by LovelyLittleFreckle/irish-buzzsaw​ (WIP)

“My gift for the amazing figure-of-dismay at Lizzington Shippers. A multi-chapter companion piece to Requiem in Red, inspired by the song Don’t Forget Me by Harry Nilson, sung by Neko Case. Red and Liz are in hiding and she discovers his private notebook one evening.”

A wonderful, sweet, involving and gut-wrenchingly poignant fic where Liz discovers letters written to her by Red that he never intended for her to see. I am so delighted to be the recipient of this fic and am just on the edge of my seat to see where it is going next. Pulls at your heart strings in the BEST possible way. Please go read!

A Line in the Sand? by DearBeliever (oneshot)

“Lizzie offers to help Red.”

A very sweet oneshot with a Caretaking Liz, which is a particular favourite trope of mine. Extremely well done, short but more than worth the read. Please go take a look and leave a comment!

On The Run by apicturewithasmile​ (complete)

“Red and Lizzie are on the run and spend the first night at a cabin which holds more memories than Lizzie realises at first…”

A really sweet, and complete chapter fic of Red and Liz on the run together. The best kind of fluffy and emotional Red/Liz fic, with a couple great cameos with helpful Madeline Pratt. Sweet without being sappy, and touches on backstory/mytharc without getting bogged down and being super serious. Honestly one of my favourites and this author’s first chapter fic. Well worth the time.

The He’s No Gentleman Job by Spademyheart/ pala-cor-meum

“Red and Liz are on the run and need some help from the Leverage team. Takes place before Nathan and Sophie get engaged and leave for parts unknown”

A great, fun crossover with the Leverage Team that keeps everyone right in character and blend suspense and levity. Full disclosure, i beta this fic, but that just gives man insight into how much it’s a really fun ride. i don’t think you necessarily need to know Leverage to understand it, though its a really fun show and I recommend that, too ;)

I Prefer The Dark by Elizabitca/ literarybitca

“Red helps Liz alter her appearance their first night on the run. Based on the first picture of Megan Boone with blonde hair over the 2015 hiatus.”

Great characterization, sharp writing pulls no punches. The dynamic between Red and Liz here is fraught and tension filled, and not just in a sexy way, which makes a lot of sense for where they are. A prompt fill with substance and i love it. Small warning for those squeamish of Tom/Jacob, there is talk of her night on the boat with him, but it’s done in a way that works really well. Author says it may be continued, which i very much hope it is, but it also works on its own as a very high quality oneshot.