Warnings: Mention of extreme injury, disability, guilt.
Request: Hey! I was wondering if I could
have one in which the reader is Tony’s teen daughter and she is really good
friends with everyone in Team Cap but then during the airport fight she gets
hurt and is unable to walk again (like Rhodey kind of) and then when she sees
Team Cap again they feel really guilty specially because one of them caused the
injury and Natasha feels angry at herself because she was supposed to be her
mother figure and look out for her. Thank you, hope it’s not too much trouble!
It’s been nearly two years since the incident. Since the
team split and had that fight. You didn’t like it. You were close with everyone
on Steve’s team. Wanda got along with you since you were close to each other’s
ages, Clint was just good with kids, and Scott was the same and funny. Sam you
could joke with, and despite barely knowing Bucky, in the time you knew him,
you had managed to get to talk to him a bit and you managed to get him to
smile. Steve was probably the one you were closest to. His ego was nowhere as
big as your dad’s, Tony, and if he ever got too much, Steve always offered
dinner at his after school or just to help with homework. He gave you a glimpse
of a normal life- well, as normal as life could get. He was like an uncle.
“Why are you/we whispering?” - Here's a prompt! I feel it's one you can use to sneak in two pairings if you wanted; one pair hiding and (accidentally?) spying on the other having a moment *snicker* I was thinking Ransom/Holster either way but I know you like Nursey/Dex as well! Go wild!
Justin’s coming down the stairs in search of a snack for the next leg of his o-chem study sesh, minding his own business and hoping there’s pie left over, when someone grabs his wrist and pulls him off his path to the kitchen.
He’s not surprised to see it’s Holster pressing him against the wall, hand wrapped around Justin’s wrist.
“Can I help you?” Justin says flatly.
“Shhh!” Holster half spits his reply as he ducks down to peer around the corner and into the kitchen.
Justin hopes his eyebrows manage to convey how unimpressed he is when Holster straightens back up. He doesn’t let Justin move from the wall so apparently the message is not received.
“Dex and Nursey are in there,” Holster whispers, jerking his chin towards the kitchen.
“Why are you whispering?” Justin asks and gets Holster’s hand over his mouth for his troubles.
Justin lets out a deep sigh through his nose; there’s probably no more pie if the Frogs are working there. He licks Holster’s hand and when he can move his upper body without the 200-odd pounds of d-man crushing it, he leans to look through the doorway to see for himself, twisting his spine awkwardly because Holster still has his hips pinned to the wall.
Nursey and Dex are sitting side by side, their books spread out over the kitchen table. There doesn’t seem to be any pie left on the counter, but he’s looking into the kitchen from a weird angle so he can’t say for certain. It’d be a normal every day scene in the Haus except for the distinct lack of fighting going on in the kitchen.
Holster’s smile is kinda creepy when Justin straightens up.
“There’s no pie, is there?” he asks in his regular speaking voice. Holster punches him in the chest, which fair, Justin’s purposefully missing the point in protest of the snack he’s not getting.
“They’re getting along!” Holster says, voice as quiet as Justin’s ever heard it. It’s weird. Holster looks into the kitchen again. “Rans, the Frogs are growing up and D-bonding!” He whisper-shouts that last bit, spitting slightly.
“Say it, don’t spray it bro.” Justin wipes his face on Holster’s t-shirt.
“I’m just so proud,” Holster continues, ignoring Justin to still whisper-shout in his face. “It feels like just yesterday they were arguing about double knotting their laces.”
Justin rolls his eyes. “They were arguing about that yesterday.”
“Yeah, but look at them now, all grown up and sharing the table.” Holster sighs dramatically. “D-men bonding is so special. Do you remember our Frog bonding?”
Justin shakes his head, thinking back to their first year on the team where he and Holster somehow managed to live out of each other’s pockets without actually living together. Their off-ice bonding included a lot of bowling and arguing about T.V. shows, but whatever it worked and made their on-ice bond that much stronger.
He succeeds in shoving Holster off him so get can go find the cookie dough he saw Bitty mixing earlier if there’s no pie, but freezes in the doorway before he makes it further than a step into the kitchen.
“We didn’t bond like that in our frog year Holtzy,” he says quietly, staring at the train wreck that is Dex and Nursey full on making out over their homework. They’re really going at it, not even stopping for breath when Holster forgets he’s using his inside-voice and asks, “What?”
He settles his chin on Justin’s shoulders to look past him into the kitchen. “Oh fuck, nope.” Holster laughs, his breath tickling Justin’s ear. “That was junior year bonding.” He grabs Justin’s hand again.
“You owe me a study snack,” Justin sighs, but lets himself be pulled out of the kitchen and up to the attic. He doesn’t want to deal with the fall out of either Frog noticing that their chosen spot for a moment isn’t so private anymore. Idiots.
“You wanna go to Annie’s?” Holster asks in a normal voice.
“Yeah, but text the Haus that there’s very important D-man bonding going on so they don’t get caught,” Justin says, nudging Holster out of the way so he can pack his backpack. He’s going to be productive even if the rest of the d-line isn’t.
“Are we gonna bond?” Holster wriggles his eyebrows suggestively. He laughs when Justin swings his backpack onto his back, narrowly avoiding slamming it into Holster’s gut.
“Never again if you don’t let me finish my notes.” Justin is only half serious with the threat. He turns to make Holster pack his own backpack so he’s not a complete distraction at the coffee shop.
“I’ll be good.” Holster grins, hooking his hands on the bottom of Justin’s backpack straps. He rubs his thumbs over the exposed skin where the the backpack has rucked up Justin’s shirt.
“You’re a such a liar,” Justin says. He pushes Holster away. “I’ll leave without you!”
Holster throws random books into his backpack as he replies, “You can’t D-bond without me Rans.”
Justin watches him pack a textbook that he’s pretty sure he hasn’t looked at since they first moved into the attic, and is really sure that he doesn’t want to d-bond with anyone else.
Holster’s answering kiss when Justin tells him so is worth the chirping he hears the entire way to Annie’s.
I feel ignorant for asking this, but I plan on getting a snake in the future (when I'm old enough) and want to be sure I get information from good sources. I've read every post you have on Spider Morphs, but you don't have many detailing Duckbills, Small/Bug Eyed, and Kinked Spines. I know these are bad, but what exactly happens to the snake when they have these?
hey!! don’t ever hesitate to ask questions because we all stated somewhere and questions are how we learn!! I’m happy to answer anything I can.
Okay, so duckbilling, small/bug eyed and kinked spines show up in other Ball Python morphs. Morphs like Carmel Albino (kinking and female sub-fertility), Super Cinnamon/Super Black Pastel (duckbill and sometimes kinking), Super Lesser Platinum/Super Butter (bug eyes) and Lesser Platinum x Piedbald (small eyes) are examples. There are more, so be sure to research if there are any problems for your chosen morph!
Anyways, going over these individually:
Dr. Mark D. Scherz ( a herpetologist here on tumblr, great blog) explains it best: “This mutation arises from a loss of bone in the lateral portions of the skull. I would not be surprised if it were accompanied by respiratory and feeding problems.” The Ball Python’s face, essentially, looks like it has a duckbill.
Really as it sounds; this is a ball python that has a genetic deformity that causes small eyes. Couldn’t find a good picture for this one, so if anyone knows where I can get one, that’d be great!
Complete opposite of small eyes! These are abnormally large eyes that stick out further than a normal ball python would.
Kinks are twists or turns in the animal’s tail or spine. It’s a huge deformity. These vary on how the impact the snake. Some are so deformed that they die in the egg while others can still live a long and relatively healthy lifestyle depending on the severity of their kink.
Hope this helps a bit and if you have any more questions then feel free to ask me or shoot me a private message!
Can u describe in full detail how you think Harry would eat you out? Also it's their first sexual experience so he try's to make her as comfortable as possible
I feel like as their first sexual experience, Harry would be very thoughtful with it.
Kissing down her chest and hips, letting his lips touch every nook and cranny, wanting to be in sync with her body. Brushing his lips over her knees, biting at her thighs gently, fluttery pecks across her abdomen. Small but important things.
He’d start off licking her over her underwear, tongue pressing flat on the surface and working her over slowly, keeping full eye contact to make sure everything he’s doing is okay. More sucking at her inner thighs as he pulls her panties down her legs, blowing lightly over her wetness, thumbing over the thick of her clit in circles. His hair is tickling her inner thighs as they clench around his head, calfs crossed behind his head and down his back out of instinct.
He’d lower his face, shoving it right in with his button nose prodding her clit as he starts lapping at her lightly at first, rings cold against the subtle curve of her hips as to bring her closer, moaning unconsciously into her heat as he feels her start to pool into his mouth.
“That’s it, darling. You’re doing amazing. Tasting amazing, too. Such a good girl f'me.”
Y/N’s a whimpering mess, one hand fisting at the bedsheets as the other tugs at the roots of his fluffy hair, using her actions to translate how he’s making her feel.
At the beginning, he voices his curiosity, asking her if a certain thing feels good, if he should go faster, if she wants his tongue inside her with his thumb toying at her clit. He makes sure to get a green light on everything before trying it.
But as it progresses, he starts using her body language as her answers– her tiny whines getting louder when she likes a specific action, her back arching, hips bucking, head nodding and tiny wisps of, “Fuck, Har, fuck.”
And then he’s tucking a middle finger inside her, metal rose ring freezing against her hot entrance, and he’s going at a tender pace, tongue and lips working her over thoroughly to get her nice and wet. His cheeks are damp with her excitement, his eyes alight with a certain fire that makes her entire spine twist and turn.
He gradually works in a second finger, pumping them faster and faster when he feels her clenching, bending them in all directions and prodding at her spongey walls, humming lowly at the spikes of pleasure that crawl across his scalp as she tugs his curls roughly.
And when she comes, it’s messy. She’s shaking and screaming, but he coaxes her through it with his knuckles coasting gently up the sides of her thighs, fingertips marking memories into the supple flesh as he licks her clean, mumbling encouragement through a full mouth, loving the way she’s gushing onto his tongue.
“Atta girl, pet. All in my mouth. Taste so fucking good, y'know that? So sweet and warm fo’ me. Love it between your pretty legs. Keep going, minx. Want you dripping down my chin.”
So this fic was brought on by rewatching the Azula and Zuko Agni Kai a couple (hundred) times. I cried writing it soooo
Please listen to this on repeat if you feel like visualizing Keith and Lance and crying: Last Agni Kai or you can try Reconciliation from the ATLA soundtrack. Feel free to see this as a Klance or friendship fic.
The only other thing to know is that in this universe, the Paladins have evolved the powers of their lions and that Lance succumbed to his insecurities while Keith was acting as Black Paladin and fell under the sway of Haggar after he was captured.
Keith forced the fire in his veins to a dull roar, knowing that he needed Haggar alive, that one move of his sword at her throat would cause him to fail his mission.
And failure wasn’t something he would accept.
He rasped at the dark figure, “Give him back to us. Now.“
The witch smiled. “All you had to do was ask, halfbreed."
His hand twitched, correcting itself before something outrageous could happen, like Haggar’s head sailing across the floor.
Still, she noticed the weakness and met his gaze, a farcical smile twisting across her thin face.
Keith kept his gaze impassive and tightened his grip.
This was no cat and mouse game. One false move and she’d be dead and Lance’s location lost forever.
a short 1.6k word blurb about dry humping niall until he comes in his pants :))
His large hands gripped tight onto your waist, calloused fingers creeping up under the hem of your top, his touch lingering at your warmed skin. Straddling his lap, his lean body was slumped back into the red and black couch that wrapped around the rear of the tour bus. His legs were spread wide beneath you, his feet pressing hard into the floor as he tried to steady himself and worked to hold himself off. You could feel him straining hard in his thin sweat shorts, his throbbing length pushing roughly against your own clothed heat. His head was tipped back, resting on the back of the couch as he willingly bared all of his pretty freckle-laced skin for you to have your way with.
but imagine the initial burn of H being inside of you after a long time,,,, like he'd be all concerned and worried of how you're feeling yet so fucking smug about it all like "are yeh okay, pet" and "do you need me to stop" while "little to big for yeh, aren't i, kitten" and "like a bit of pain, dont ya" with that fucking smirk and fUCK
Harry pressing inside you slowly at first, stopping at certain intervals to allow you to stretch his fit. He groans lowly, feeling your walls pulsing and tightening around his thick circumference, taking him in so fucking deep he can feel himself nudging up into her tummy.
“God, pet…” He grunts his words into the flushed skin of your throat, smoothing over the sweaty area with his hot tongue and swimming in the sensation of your body shuddering under his influence. “Filling you up ‘til the brink, aren’t I? Nice and heavy and snug inside that tight little cunt of your’s. So fucking hot.”
You whine lightly, squeezing at his hard shoulders in a silent plea for him to start moving. He feels full inside you and you want nothing more than to feel him fucking you raw.
Harry interprets your noise of need, arrogant smirk sticking against your damp juglar, right in the little alcove between your shoulder and neck. “S'big, innit?”
You give your head a weak nod, breathing stuttering as you grope down the tight muscles of his back, tugging him closer in order to feel his warm chest expand against yours with every ragged inhale he takes. Your voice is a shaky whimper against the thickness of his damp curls as he suckles bruises into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, Har, just…just fuck.”
A chuckle thrums deep in his chest, the vibrations passing onto your pliant body, words throaty and raspy. “Y'like m'cock, babe? Like it stretching you out so fuckin’ good?”
He pulls his hips back from between your thighs until only his tip is tucked inside your heat, thumbing over your clit in quick little circles that cause your spine to twist and turn. Then, he thrusts back into you full and hard with a quick, rough ram, resulting in you emitting a strangled squeak.
His hips work in circles against your thighs, pelvic bone grinding up against you folds as his prick nudges every right angle inside you. His head falls forward, lips ghosting over yours as teeny, wispy gasps slam their way out of his throat. “Fuckin’ hell…”
“You feel so good, H.” You whisper, lips quivering as he skims them with his warm tongue, biting the center of your bottom one and loving the way it swells between his teeth.
“Yeah?” Harry grins into your mouth, puffing out a deep exhale through his nose, the hot air tickling your Cupid’s bow. “
“Know you like the burn, kitten. Such a dirty little thing, aren’t ya? Taking my cock so fucking deep and loving it.”
The 11 Beginner Yoga Poses Everyone Pretends To Know (But May Be Doing Wrong)
1. Mountain Pose (Tadasana)
Stand tall, spine straight with feet parallel and big toes touching. Look straight ahead.
Common mistakes: The ribs and butt should not stick out too far. Try to keep your spine, from the top of your head to your tailbone, in one straight line.
Sochocki says: “Unlike regular standing, here you stand with a purpose, feeling the four corners of your feet, lifting up the knee caps, engaging the legs, drawing the the tailbone down and lifting the belly button in and up. Soften the shoulders down the back and turn the palms to face forward, imagine you have heavy rocks in your hands. Look straight ahead and feel the power of the Mountain!”
2. Chair Pose (Utkatasana)
Knees bent over the ankles, thighs as parallel to the floor as possible. Torso should form a right angle over your thighs. Move the feet closer together for a more advanced pose. Inhale as you raise your hands up.
Common mistakes: Knees should not go past the toes.
Sochocki says: “Place more weight over the heels to pull the knees away from hovering over the toes.”
3. Forward Fold (Uttanasana)
Start in mountain pose. Hinge from the hips on an exhale and fold over forward, keeping the spine as straight as possible. Let the head hang heavy, and relax the jaw. Keep feet hip-width apart for beginners or touching for intermediate/advanced students.
Common mistakes: A straight spine is more important than having straight legs. Bend your knees as much as needed to keep a straight spine with your chest touching your thighs.
Sochocki says: “Consistency in yoga is important and over time, the back of the legs will open in forward fold. Keep the knees soft, and don’t lock them.”
4. Downward-facing Dog (Adho Mukha Svanasana)
From plank position, with your feet hip-width apart and hands shoulder-width apart, lift your hips toward the ceiling on an exhale until your body makes an inverted “V.” Eyes are looking between the legs or toward the belly. Pull the belly and ribs in.
Common mistakes: People with tight hamstrings and calves tend to form boxy poses. To correct this, bend the knees more, and draw the chest toward the tops of the thighs, pressing your hands firmly against the floor to pull the hips back.
Sochocki says: “It is more important to keep your back straight and less important to keep the legs straight.” You shouldn’t be afraid to bend the knees or lift the heels if needed. “Imagine that you are a fish and you’ve been hooked at the tailbone and are being pulled back to the boat. This will help lift the hips back and up.”
5. Warrior One (Virabhadrasana 1)
From downward-facing dog, step your right foot forward between your hands, turn your left heel in, and raise your torso and arms up on an inhale. The front foot’s heel should line up with the back foot’s arch, with the front of the knee directly over the ankle. Face both hips forward, draw the tailbone down, and pull the ribs in. Repeat pose on the opposite side of the body.
Common mistakes: The back hip should be facing forward and not outward, and the back foot should be closer to a 45-degree angle, not a 90-degree angle.
Sochocki says: “Imagine both your hips are headlights. You want both headlights facing forward.”
6. Warrior Two (Virabhadrasana 2)
Similar to warrior one, but with arms stretched out in opposite directions, parallel to the floor and in line with the shoulders. Raise arms and torso on an inhale. Back foot should be at a 90-degree angle, and front thigh should be parallel to the floor, with the front of the knee directly over the ankle. Eyes should look out over middle finger. Repeat pose on the opposite side of the body.
Common mistakes: The butt or belly should not stick out, and there should be no arch in the lower back. Foot alignment is also often wrong. Make sure that your front foot’s heel aligns with the back foot’s arch.
Sochocki says: “Imagine you are spreading your mat apart. To align your hips, place your hands on your hips to make sure you’re not leaning too much on one hip.”
7. Triangle Pose (Trikonasana)
Step feet wide apart, creating a triangle from your feet to your pelvic bone. Start with turning one foot out by 90 degrees and the other inward by 15 degrees. Stretch arms out in line with the shoulders, and, on an exhale, rotate torso toward the outward-turned foot. Fingers should touch the shin for beginners or slightly touch the floor for advanced. The other arm should be reaching up with eyes looking at the raised hand, neck kept long and away from the shoulders. Shoulders and arms should form one line.
Common mistakes: The front hip should not jut out, and the back hip should not drop down.
Sochocki says: “To ensure good alignment, go into the pose very slowly.”
8. Child’s Pose (Balasana)
Child’s pose is a pose of surrender. Starting from a kneeling position, with toes touching and knees as wide as the shoulders, draw your hips down to your heels as your arms extend forward on the floor and your forehead lowers to the ground. Close your eyes and let your forehead rest on the ground. Breathe in whichever manner is comfortable to you.
Sochocki says: “There is no wrong way to do Child’s Pose. However, if you have tight hips, it can be helpful to place a blanket or pillow between your hips and heels and a block for your forehead.”
9. Baby Cobra (Ardha Bhujangasana)
This pose is done on the belly, with the pubic bone and the tops of the feet pressing into the ground. Feet are as wide as the hips and straight back. Hands are resting beside the rib cage, and elbows are squeezed back, reaching toward one another. Using the strength in the lower lumbar spine, peel the chest and upper ribs off the floor. Lift up on an inhale, take a few breaths, and lower down on an exhale.
Common mistakes: Hands should not be in front of the shoulders, and the shoulders should not be by the ears. To correct this form, draw the shoulders down the back, and pull the shoulders away from the ears.
Sochocki says: Your elbows should be at a 45 degree angle and you should use your lower back – with minimal push from your hands – to pull your torso off the floor.
10. Seated Twist with Leg Extended (Marichyasana)
The seated spinal twist neutralizes the spine. Start from a seated position, with butt on the ground and both legs parallel in front of you. Extend your left leg straight out, and flex the foot. Bend your right knee, and cross your right foot over the extended left leg. Left elbow pushes against the outside of the right knee, and right hand is placed on the floor on the right side of the body. Right hand should be planted behind the right side of the spine, supporting it. Look over the shoulder or as far as the neck allows. Repeat pose on the opposite side of the body.
Common mistakes: Do not round your back. Lengthen your spine by lifting your back up. Make sure your back hand is helping you life the spine up.
Sochocki says: “Exhale as you twist your spine. Inhale to create the space [in your torso] and the exhale will move you deeper into the space you’ve created.”
11. Upward-facing Dog* (Urdhva Mukha Svanasana)
From the plank position, with feet hip-width apart and arms shoulder-width apart, exhale and use your arms to slowly lower your body down until your elbows form a 90-degree angle. Use your toes to tilt your body forward and roll over your toes so the tops of your feet are flat on the ground. On an inhale, straighten your elbows so your entire torso, knees and thighs are lifted from the ground. Your hands and feet should be the only parts of your body touching the ground. Look slightly upward, past the tip of the nose. Exit the pose on an exhale.
Common mistakes: “I most commonly see students go into this pose before their back is ready for it. You can tell when their shoulders are high and near the ears. I recommend that beginners start with a cobra pose, closer to the floor. Cobra has little to no weight in the hands and will slowly build up the strength in the back.”
Sochocki says: “For those who are determined to master the up dog, make sure you press firmly down with the feet and keep drawing the chest through the arms. Lift from the center of the heart while pulling your shoulders down your back.”
Rogues are of an important caste of adventurer. Born in danger. only to live amongst it for the remainder of their lives. Often knee-deep in strenuous terror, the Rogue’s skill-set is one befitting of a fellow willing and able to do anything to succeed: the very essence of professional, with no-matter how debased and violent that profession is. There are no retired thieves; only patient ones.
And if you ever find yourself brought into one’s close acquaintance, value the opportunity like a miser would a shining coin in the dirt. But remember, a gift from a thief is a favour you will owe ‘til called upon. Some timid folk even claim that the most dastardly of Rogues take ownership of the recipients of their presents, claiming their souls until the debt is balanced.
Here are a selection of knick-knacks and doo-hickeys that’ll perplex any fumble-thumbed brute to disinterested in the art to recognise a Tri-Iambic Pentameter from a Two-Tick, sheathe hold, Witherman-Oak lock.
A single, polished-leather glove with a small, silver buckle strapped tight on the wrist is the implement of death that was supposedly dealt to several members of the established aristocracy at the regal feast in the capital. According to a witnessing guard upon the balcony, over seeing the busying commotion within the gardens nearing sundown, a lone figure, neither male nor female, parted the crowds in a hurry. Like a red-cloaked salmon striding up-stream, they passed dozens on the way to the orchard. For each one they passed, they caught their attention of with a gentle hand onto the shoulder, or a tap on the back, perhaps a tug on the arm. And for each one he touched with that glove, a few seconds later, we had a corpse. Some have several cracked ribs with no sign of external injury. A couple have crooked necks or spines, twisted like tinder. All is known for certain, is that the suspect darted across the hedge line into the obscuring treeline as soon as the first crunch of bone and collapsing body broke the ambiance, tossing the implement behind them with a dainty bow.
Retorting Headband of Limitless Wit
This elegant band of glimmering platinum is decorated with gleaming studs of colourful, aquatic gems across the front. It sits atop the wearer’s ears and snugly wraps around their scalp, regardless of whether there is hair or not to grip. Whomever dons such an item finds that, when diplomacy turns from negotiation to interrogation, they know exactly what their opposition’s reaction to their own words will be. With this knowledge, they can quickly jump through several options, weighing in the information, to eventually dismantle their defences and leave them astounded and utterly defeated.
Countess’ Ebony Shoulder Cloak
Misery followed the fabled Countess in the south like a bad joke. Every man, woman, and child ‘tween the callous hills and the gravel coastline had heard of’t. She rode from village to village; her knightly entourage bullied taxation out of everyone who was caught in their passage. Doors broken open, windows smashed, barns burned. Eventually, the oppressed victims of these pillaging aristocrats gathered enough coin to convince a seasoned highwayman to put a knife into her neck. True enough, the professional picked off her clumsy protectorate whilst they braved a barren forest road. His perch amongst the pines offered the perfect advantage against the helpless soldiers. Her carriage was trapped stuck in place as a trip wire let a tree topple onto the horses leading it, crushing them and her escape in an almighty thump. Satisfied, he danced down from his branch on-high and unsheathed his skinning knife - a gift from his uncle and teacher -and wrenched the side door off its hinges with an almighty roll of his shoulder. Inside, the Countess sat silently on her silken seat. Her gilded shoulder cloak shined like Crow feather in the sunset knifing through the treeline and into the carriage, her smile broke through her lips like gold within an opened purse. She met the assassin’s glare with a bow of the head: an appreciation of true talent. He leveled his knife at her neck. She responded by pulling her shoulder cloak across her torso, and in a flurry of blood and bites, became a storm of bats, black as ink, sharp as glass. The highwayman didn’t even have time to recoil away before he had his clothing torn at from every angle as the swarm overcame him, lifting his writhing, screaming form into the air. And with a snap, the flailing ceased, and the bloodied tatters of flesh, with the coin that bought him, hit the road. The Countess reformed at the side of a horse baring a slumped knight, reaching down to collect the taxes from the thief’s corpse, wiping a drip of deep red from her chin.
Sold in pairs, entirely inseparable through misfortune or conscious effort, these simple wooden rings of polished maple always find eachother, somehow. When both are fitted on both hands of a humanoid creature, that being becomes subconsciously aware that their arms, from the shoulder down to the nail, are false. These magical recreations function just as effectively as the previous, organic pair, and can be shedded like a lizard losing its tail to escape a predator. Once the falsities are detached, the true pair of hands appear, seemingly out of nowhere in particular. Often used by condemned prisoners to escape binds, or by greedy spelunkers who become trapped by their hands in traps or mechanisms.
This brass whistle is slender, and narrow. It is attached to a loop of red string and is engraved with minute etchings of tools, instruments, and implements of delicate craft. Once blown, it emits a piercing whine which makes the ears of young children and small animals itch with unease. After a short while, no more time than it takes for the pain of the sound to disappear, a cantankerous machine of gears and steam jumps into view through a dinner plate sized portal which closes behind it as he exits. It stands 1 and a half feet tall at the shoulder, and resembles a crudely engineered impish creature in thick goggles and a leather apron. Once the summoner is ready, she can direct the machine at a troublesome lock, an impenetrable security system, or a dangerous trap mechanism. From here, the machine will split his hands into several dozen spider-like limbs, each holding a unique and bizarre widget or gadget for bizarre and unique jobs, starting their work on the machine. Once complete, it hops back into the port fro whence it came with a leap.
You stood in the crowd of first years, legs actually shaking from fear. Most of the kids here were probably feeling the same, equally scared. It wasn’t even real fear, but a crippling sense anxiety that whatever house you will be put into will disappoint your parents.
Don’t be a Hufflepuff. Your father said sternly. Refuse to be in that house if you must. Don’t be a Gryffindor either. They’re a bunch of idiots going into dangerous situations just waiting to be killed. He grew silent for half a minute before continuing. In fact-only accept being in Ravenclaw. Slytherins are just a group of creepy little bastards that practice dark magic. You had frowned and crossed your arms, defending the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors and Slytherins as best you could.
Hufflepuffs are NOT useless morons, Gryffindors are NOT attention hogging idiots and Slytherins are definitely NOT creepy! Those are just stereotypes! And yes, Ravenclaws are very smart, but that doesn’t mean I want to be one! You had said, voice steadily rising from anger. Of course, you had still lost the argument. Parents were meant to be obeyed no matter what, at least that’s what yours said. So now as you were nudged and pushed by your fellow first years as they chatted and laughed, waiting for introduction, you tried to compress your body in a way that would help avoid all the contact, keeping your shoulders at an odd angle so people would get the hint and just stop touching you. Peter appeared by your side, stumbling over another kid’s feet and grabbed the sleeve of your robe to steady himself.
“Klutz.” You whispered in his ear. He stuck out his tongue and squished his face in a teasing expression. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall stepped up and placed the Sorting Hat on the old stool. She tapped her wand on the edge of her podium, signalling for everyone to quiet down. When the talking stopped, she took a long look around the Great Hall, seizing everyone up.
Summary:Three years after you almost die from a werewolf
attack, Peter Hale comes to you, tortured and bloodied, seeking a safe
haven. What could possibly go wrong? Characters in this chapter: Peter Hale, female reader, Derek Hale, Chris Argent, Deucalion, Gerard Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski Characters mentioned: Kate Argent, Scott McCall Pairing: Chris Argent x reader, Peter Hale x reader , Past Derek Hale x reader, Derek Hale x Braeden Word Count: 1,605 Warnings: Language, angst. Author’s Note: This is my first time writing Peter, so if I get something wrong, I’m sorry. Miss the Beginning?GIF credit [x][x]
PREVIOUSLY ON SAFE FOR NOW:
Holding Y/N’s hand, fingers tangled with hers, Peter’s eyes flashed cerulean at the hunter. “Only Scott can save her.”
“What am I supposed to do, bite her?” Scott scoffed.
Peter fixed his gaze on the teenager. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
Scott pushed off the ground at the same time that Derek dug his claws into Peter’s shoulder. “If this is your idea of some twisted joke…” Derek left the threat go unvoiced.
“I’m in love with her, Derek,” Peter admitted under his breath. “Tell me you wouldn’t do the exact same thing.”
Derek sighed heavily as he looked at Y/N. Despite the fact that her heart was beating -agonizingly slow- and she was breathing -wet and rattling- Derek could honestly say that he would be asking the same thing of Scott if he were in his uncle’s shoes.
“It’s up to you, kid,” Derek said, wet eyes landing on Scott.
“No, Scott,” Chris roared. “You are not turning Y/N into a werewolf.”
Scott took in the scene before him; Peter Hale, the egotistical asshole that bit him was now asking… no, Peter was begging Scott to save the woman he loved. He may have hated the guy’s guts, but if there had been a chance to save Allison, Scott would have been all over it.
If you are still up for writing these then “If I hear someone sing Hamilton in the show again I’m joining them in their shower so I can drown them.”
“If I hear someone sing Hamilton in the show again,” Lucy complains to Natsu, glaring down at her book, “I’m joining them in their shower so I can drown them.” Her knuckles turn white from clenching the edges of her book, hands positively shaking as she snarls at the pages.
Natsu stops teasing her calves with his fingers, holding her legs closer against his lap as he blinks at her, as if fearing for the safety of the nearest student, should he let her go.
He wets his lips, blinking rapidly as he turns away from the TV to stare at her. His mouth opens, them closes again quickly. He bites his lower lip, clearly not knowing what to say. He squeezes her ankle suddenly, just enough for her to feel it. “Bit violent, don’t ya think, Luce?” he asks her, fingers stroking her leg placatingly.
She shakes her head, setting her book down. “They won’t stop, Natsu,” she tells him, shifting further into his lap, propping her head against his chest to stare up at him. “They just won’t stop.”
He chuckles at her doe eyes, leaning down to kiss the bridge of her nose, making her pout up at him. “Violence isn’t the answer,” he reminds her gently, coiling his arms around her back when she huffs and straddles his hips, rising to be eye-level with him.
“Shut up, Hypocrite,” she jokes, curling her arms around his neck. She sends him a mock-stern look, pretending to frown. “You’re the one with bruises all over.” His fingers brush against the light bruising on his jaw, expression twisting into one that’s sad and makes her seem smaller than she really is.
He shakes his head, not liking that face at all.
“You want bruises, Lucy?” he asks her, voice slipping into a growl. He keeps a hand firm against her spine as he twists them around, letting her back rest against the couch before he settles on top of her. “I can help with that,” he jokes. Lucy giggles, cupping his face and pulling him down for a silly kiss.
The next morning, Lucy is lounging on the couch while Natsu showers when she hears it.
Natsu is singing, which isn’t an unnatural occurrence, but it’s what he’s singing that makes her pause.
“I may not live to see our glory!” she hears, song muffled by the cracked open door. “But I will gladly join the fight!”
That son of a bitch.
Her hands clench and she turns to glare at the door, eyes narrowed. “If this is you trying to get me to participate in shower sex, it’s not working!” she shouts at him, knowing he can hear her.
In response, Natsu sings louder.
Lucy lasts all of five seconds before she leaps from the couch, stripping off her shirt as she walks towards the door. “Screw it.”
For reference, I didn’t have a birth plan set in stone, but I was aiming for a drug free water birth at my local birthing centre. The condensed version was: have baby, don’t die. I managed to achieve that one. I was dead set against an epidural due to having scoliosis & my spine being twisted, meaning that placement of the epidural would likely be quite difficult/traumatic.
My waters broke at 4:15am on Monday 6th Feb (conveniently while I was sitting on the toilet), and I just kind of went into shock. I remember giggling a bit because it just kept going and going. I woke Sean and told him what had happened, but knew there was no point in either of us getting up at that stage.
I lay in bed for about half an hour waiting for something else to happen, but nada. I got up and phoned my midwife to let her know things had started, and she advised that I try to get some more sleep, and that she would call me later in the morning.
I went back to bed at 5am, and almost immediately contractions began. I wasn’t timing them, but they were probably about 7-8 minutes apart. I wasn’t able to sleep through them, so started timing them around 6am, and they were between 5-10 minutes apart. They were getting to the point where dealing with them laying down in bed wasn’t an option, so I got up and walked through them for a while. During this time I started losing my mucous plug, and was still losing amniotic fluid as well.
By 7am my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart, and anywhere from 30-90 seconds long. I was convinced that this kid wasn’t mucking around, and would arrive by lunch time. Hah. Contractions slowed down, and by the time my midwife called me at around 9am, had basically stopped altogether. For the rest of the day I tried everything I could to get labour going again, but had no signs other than random contractions anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour apart. My midwife visited that evening, gave me a stretch & sweep and told me I was 1cm dilated.
Due to my waters breaking, the longer I went without delivering, the higher the risk of baby developing an infection. Basically my options were:
- Go to hospital that night, get settled & prepare to induce labour the following morning
- Stay at home to see if labour would progress on its own before 4am (in which case I could still go to the birthing centre) or if it didn’t, go to the hospital by 8am to be induced
Nothing happened overnight, so we were off up to the hospital for 7:30am on the morning of Tuesday 7th. I met my midwife & was set up in an assessment room. I was checked internally to make sure amniotic fluid was present (ie. that my waters really had broken), and this came back positive. I needed an IV line for antibiotics to prevent infection, but I have awful deep, tiny veins & it took 3 attempts to get the line inserted. It hurt like a bitch each time, but I knew it wasn’t the worst pain I would experience that day!
After that I was checked by an obstetrician, and I’d dilated to 2-3cm by this point (maybe 9am?) Side note: cervical checks are a bitch and were possibly my least favourite part of the whole experience.
After that I was basically left to labour on my own for a while. I tried to nap a little bit, but kept having to get up and traipse to the toilet to wee. At around 10:30 I was taken to a delivery room and was set up to get comfy (hah!) there. I laboured on my own a little longer, then was started on syntocinon to speed things up as by midday I was still only at 5cm. My IV line had gone straight through my vein by this point, so I needed a 4th one inserted.
My contractions were pretty awful by this stage, but I still hadn’t opted for any pain meds. I spent a lot of time leaning over the hospital bed while Sean used massage & acupressure on me. I also tried bouncing on a birthing ball, but found I didn’t enjoy it all that much.
By mid afternoon things were really intense, and my legs were giving out on me, so I needed to spend some time lying down. My midwife declared that I was in active labour at 3:15pm. A couple of times the syntocinon drip had to be turned down as I was getting no rest between contractions, they were hitting me in constant waves.
At around 8pm I was still only 6-7cm dilated, and the term ‘c-section’ started to be batted around, but I was allowed to continue labouring naturally.
At 10pm I finally decided I needed some pain relief, and started sucking on gas like there was no tomorrow. It didn’t take the pain away completely, but it gave me a nice buzz, and made me care about the pain a whole lot less.
The obstetrician from earlier in the day came and checked on me at 11pm, and said that when she came back she’d check my progress, and the decision would be made then and there about a c-section.
Midnight came, I was checked one last time, but was still only 7-8cm, my cervix was swelling, and baby wasn’t descending. An emergency c-section was ordered- there was just no way I’d be delivering this baby naturally. At this stage I no longer cared about anything other than getting my baby out of me safely.
At this point the syntocinon was stopped which provided some relief, but I continued to have awful contractions, and I seemed to have built up a tolerance for the gas after using it basically nonstop for 2 hours. It seemed so unfair to still be contracting despite knowing I wasn’t going to be birthing naturally.
I was finally wheeled into theatre at about 1:30am on Wednesday 8th, where I was given a spinal (which was somewhat difficult due to my scoliosis), and yet another IV line was inserted (that’s a total of 5).
Our baby was pulled from me at 1:52am, we found out it was a boy, and he was perfect. APGAR scores of 9 and 10.
My midwife told me I’m now a bit infamous on the maternity ward as 90% of women put on syntocinon get an epidural, yet I laboured on syntocinon for over 13 hours and was in active labour for nearly 11 hours with just gas.
I am beyond grateful that despite things deviating so far from ‘ideal’, neither Cillian nor myself were in distress at any point. In fact, Cillian was so content that he kept falling asleep during labour, and my midwife had to keep getting me to move to wake him up so he could be monitored properly.
This account is probably all over the show and missing a few details as towards the end I was almost delirious with pain/fatigue. If you read this all, you are incredible ❤
Summary: Killian wants to use Emma’s engagement ring to make her come.
Note: I guess I’ve been feeling very smutty since that pancake scene because this is the second smutty thing I’ve written in as many days. Thank you for the great response to Why Can’t We Have Pancakes, Too? I honestly have no idea where this short thing came from. It just popped into my head and I had to write it. I think my affection for Killian’s talented fingers and mouth probably brought it on. I blame the bandage scene on the beanstalk for the mouth part. Hope you enjoy it! ~Steph
…Ring My Bell: Part 1/1…
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t used a ring to make her come before. No, those talented fingers of his would curl into her, the cool metal of his rings flicking at her clit, the large stones scraping her walls. It drove her crazy with desire and he knew it. That is where, she supposes, he got this idea.
Killian turned over in their bed, the night of lovemaking following their second engagement, fresh in his mind. He met her eyes and smiled. Reaching out, he touched her engagement ring, twirling it around her finger.
“I’m never taking it off again,” she said, her other hand reaching out to caress his cheek.
“Actually, love, I was hoping I could convince you otherwise.”
Emma’s brow furrowed. “You want me to take off my engagement ring?”
Killian entwined her fingers with his, the cool metal of her ring pressing against his skin.
“I was hoping we could use it for some pleasurable activities.”
“You want to use my ring during sex?” she asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise.
Killian bobbed his head, as he brought his lips to her chest and pressed a kiss to the valley of her breasts.
“I want to use it to make you come,” he said, his voice low and dripping with lust.
Emma looked down at her ring. When he had placed it back on her finger, she had sworn she would never again take it off. It was a promise of their future and it reminded her of just that every time she looked at it. But she couldn’t say she wasn’t intrigued. She always had loved the feel of his rings inside her as he brought her over the edge. She was more than a little curious what her own ring would feel like in that talented hand of his as he worked to make her come.
A break in your regularly schedule Reyder programming for a little fluffy Rydam. I’m pretty sure I have like…two Rydam followers so I really hope you see it! :P
Sara was beginning to wonder if anyone had brought anything but EDM to Andromeda. The music
was loud - and bordering on obnoxious - but Prodromos’ settlers didn’t seem to
mind. The colony was expanding, its coffers were swelling, and its inhabitants’
lives were slowly growing easier. These people had more than enough reason to
And Liam Kosta threw one hell of a party.
Sara was cowering by the bar. She used the term loosely, of
course, because the bar was just the
spot where Liam had decided to distribute the booze. She used the clamour by
the liquor crates as a milling human shield, placing it squarely between
herself and anyone who looked like they might try to strike up a conversation.
She tried not to wince when the bassline shook her aching skull. She tried not
to glower when the lights began to strobe. She nursed her beer against her
chest, forcing a smile whenever a passer-by made eye contact. August Bradley looked
her over with concern when he drifted a little too close - but Sara turned on
her heel and fled.
A planet like Eos was perfect for an outdoor party. Liam had
managed to scrounge up some tarpaulins, though God only knew which settler he’d
convinced to part with them. Sara had seen him out here earlier in the day,
scrambling around in the sand while he and the other party planners struggled
to string up their cobbled-together pavilion. He’d been bare-chested, of
course. That went without saying.
The night was cool, but it wasn’t cold. The air was still,
but not oppressive. Sara was grateful for it when she slipped away. She’d never
find peace and quiet here; not unless she buried her head in the sand - but the
thumping music faded a little when she crested the nearest dune. The sharpest edges
of her headache dulled.
Sara was exhausted. “SAM? You’ll warn me if anything
tries to sneak up on me, right?”
“Yes, Pathfinder. Do you intend to sleep?”
Sara only grunted in response. She tried to settle down onto
her haunches to enjoy the rest of her drink - but her jelly legs wobbled a
little too violently, and she flopped down onto her back instead. She watched
her beer drain away into the sand.
She sighed. “Fuck.”
“Dr. T'Perro has asked me to remind you that the
Alliance Navy recommends active personnel maintain a healthy sleeping
“I do keep a healthy sleeping schedule. And I’m not
“The demands placed upon an Alliance marine are similar
to those placed upon you, but the comparison is not truly necessary. Four hours
of sleep per night is not considered healthy for humans in any
“I slept in this morning, SAM.”
“That was not sleep, Pathfinder. Mr. Kosta pointed out
Sara snorted. She sometimes wondered if SAM’s apparently
unintentional references to her sex life were really as unwitting as they
sounded. They couldn’t be - right?
“Whatever you say,” she muttered. “But it was
A quiet laugh sounded somewhere behind her, and Sara’s
stomach tried to drop down through her spine. She twisted around, already
fumbling for some way to explain herself - but it was only Liam. Thank god.
He lay down beside her on the sand. “Don’t stop talking
‘cause of me.” He was sweaty from dancing - and a little breathless, too.
“You’re hoping for an ego boost,” Sara accused. She
rolled over onto her side so she could hook her chin over his shoulder, fishing
around in the space between them until her fingers found his hand. “What
would you like to hear?”
Liam grinned at her. His eyes were just a little bit
unfocused; his smile just a little bit sloppy. “I don’t need to fish,
Sara. I know I liked it. Know you did, too.”
Sara laughed. “You’re not wrong.” She didn’t have
the energy for much else, so she pressed a brief kiss to the top of his
shoulder. “Great party, by the way.”
Liam shrugged, letting the compliment roll off him like he
did so much else. “You get good at celebrating when even the small things
are a win. We used to put street parties together for people back in HUSTL -
you know, once the dust settled and people stopped bleeding.”
“You’re good at this. Connecting with people.”
“Guess I am,” he replied. He smiled a vaguely
tipsy smile, turning his head to brush a kiss across her lips - then paused, brows
pulling together while he examined her. “You look really tired.”
Sara sighed into his mouth. “I am tired, Liam.”
“Want to go back to the Tempest?”
“No. This is your night, and I don’t want to cut it
short.” She pushed herself up onto her elbows, intending to stagger
But Liam kept hold of her hand. “Lie down with
Sara sighed. “Liam, really -”
“I could use some sleep,” he persisted. His smile
turned sly - but it was the slyness of a man who’d had one too many beers. It
was painfully obvious. It was achingly sweet. “You wouldn’t just leave me
She thought about protesting. She thought about dragging him
back to the party he’d worked so hard to make perfect; maybe stumbling onto the
dancefloor with her fingers curled into his shirt. She shouldn’t let her
failings bring him down. She shouldn’t let exhaustion -
Liam’s hand travelled up to her collar, tugging at it with
gentle insistence. “Lie down with me.”
And Sara did. Her eyes were closed before she’d even hit the
sand. Liam stretched his arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his chest,
and Sara nuzzled in as close as she could get. Several moments passed in
almost-silence, the persistent throbbing music fading.
Ugh, I’m late on my drawings again… I didn’t used this art style in a while, I feel so rusty… ‘need to practice more.
Funny little plot:
Phasma is invited to a fancy masquerade party but at the last second her Plus One cancels. Hux accepts to go, but since the only tuxedo Phasma has is the one she’ll be wearing, the poor guy has to put on the Plus One’s dress.
Hux only is interested by the opportunity to eat cocktail shrimps but somehow ends up slow dancing with that strange man in a skeleton tux.
I spent two days on that thing and my laptop crashed in the middle of it, I’m tired, don’t mind the story