the little nun

The Call the Midwife fandom is great because it basically consists of about 8 and a half people crying in unison and then shitpost memes about nuns and the Gays for a week, like your fandom wishes it could be like this smol positive ball of sunshine of a fandom

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Aubrey Plaza Smokes Pot with the Weed Nuns 

Insistence (Finn Balor x Reader drabble)

A/N: Hey lovelies! This was a drabble request from this prompt list with the line “16. Where are your clothes?” by anon! In all fairness, this is smut for the sake of smut, it’s really not as fluffy as my other drabbles, but I have a feeling y’all will forgive me! I turned myself on writing this, no lies. 

Warnings: Smut, smut without plot, oral sex, secret relationship.

Word count: 1566

Tagging: @hardcorewwetrash @imagineall-the-fandoms @insearchofsunlight @blondekel77 @thiickreigns @m-a-t-91 @valeonmars @littlemissava13 @nuroxic @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @superrezzy00 @imagines–assemble @momis30 @laochbaineann @alexispoo  @taryndbiase @reigns420 @horcruxhunter5972 @xfirespritex @wrestlewriting @ily-zaddy @ringsidexdreaming @wwefangirl69

If anyone wants to be tagged in the future, let me know!

Originally posted by celebrity-imagines-17

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anonymous asked:

Please please please more on the demon in the covenant xx

See here.

“You can’t stay in there forever,” the other demon said. “You’ll burn.”
“Like the rest of you in hell, then.”
“Oh, it thinks it’s funny.” The demon flashed a sharp grin, eyes going cold. “You know nothing of hell.” Their head tilted. “Just like your stupid little nuns and priests, and reverend-”
The grief howled and the demon lurched forward, eyes stinging and lungs burning with smoke, fists clenching. They felt dizzy. “Don’t you dare-”  
The other demon snatched them the second they stepped past the threshold of sacred ground. An easy trick - such human emotions!
“There we go,” the other demon said, arms wrapping tight around them and dragging them back from the flames. “I’ve got you.” They said it like that was some soothing thing! 


“I think,” the other demon said, “that it must be some kind of mortal sin to keep you locked away.”


You killed them, you actually killed them- I have to go back - I have to-”
“-You can’t actually care about them,” the other demon said in disbelief. “That’s some Stockholm Syndrome level of fucked up.”
The power burst out of them at that. Even though they weren’t allowed to let that happen. Cavernous, monstrous wings and teeth and claws as they hurled the other demon away from them again. Everything that the convent had tried to teach them to control finally shattering. 
“Oh, now. Aren’t you a gorgeous thing?” The other demon rose to their feet - unafraid, delighted even. Everyone had always been afraid before.

marvelstorage  asked:

Dear Bucky, I just sent my vote by mail in and am feeling really bummed out. Do you know any ways to make me feel better after this god awful election?

whenever i get bummed out by politics i look up baby animal videos instead. or i make a really elaborate hot chocolate with peppermint and marshmallows and whipped cream and feed birds in the park, therefore giving fuel with which to poop on peoples heads. and i tell them to fly to washington dc and start looking for idiots to drop turds on. usually this is pretty useless, but last time i did it i brought sam to translate, so hopefully soon a particular moron will wind up with doo in the ‘do.

i realize it is late and probably the pigeons are sleeping. but i like to picture it anyway.

Fanfic Friday: Lips Touch, Part 12

For @inspoartist, who suggested that ‘Sister Bernadette might have a panic attack and Dr. T has to calm her down’. Now, there was only one situation in which I thought Sister B might have a panic attack, and that is on her way to St. Anne’s… (some of the lines are from the series)

The drive to the sanatorium starts out in silence. Sister Bernadette trains her eyes on the passing landscape outside so that she does not have to look at the man next to her, so that she does not have to make conversation.

If she was not wearing a habit, she would probably turn to Doctor Turner and confess that she is scared. But you ARE wearing the habit, she quietly admonishes herself, and holds her concerns and fears and feelings close to her heart. If she doesn’t know that it is the TB that rattles in her lungs, she would think that her emotions are pressing on her chest, cutting off her breathing till she feels breathless and light-headed.

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THE BLOODY CHAMBER
Below you will find quotes taken directly or paraphrased
from the book 'The Bloody Chamber' by Angela Carter. Feel free to change or switch around pronouns.
  • Are you sure you love him?
  • I’m sure I want to marry him.
  • See? I have acquired a whole harem for myself!
  • My little nun has found the prayer books, has she?
  • Have the nasty pictures scared, Baby?
  • Baby mustn’t play with grownups’ toys until she’s learned how to handle them, must she?
  • But it is our honeymoon!
  • What is that key? The key to your heart? Give it to me!
  • Every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.
  • All is yours, everywhere is open to you - except the lock that this single key fits.
  • But you must promise me, if you love me, to leave it well alone.
  • There I can go, you understand, to savour the rare pleasure of imagining myself wifeless.
  • Some intuition told me that you couldn’t sleep and might, perhaps, pass the insomniac hours at your piano.
  • And that I could not resist.
  • No bride should suffer so much, so early in her marriage.
  • Any bride brought to this castle should come ready dressed in mourning.
  • Oh God, I can smell the blood.
  • We may resume our interrupted pleasures, my love.
  • Now? This moment? Can’t it wait until morning, my darling?
  • It is the key that leads to the kingdom of the unimaginable.
  • My little love, you’ll never know how much I hate daylight!
  • My virgin of the arpeggios, prepare yourself for martyrdom.
  • What form shall it take?
  • I can be of some comfort to you, though not much use.
  • You do not deserve this.
  • Who can say what I deserve or no? I’ve done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.
  • You disobeyed him. That is sufficient reason for him to punish you.
  • I only did what he knew I would.
  • Shall I come up to fetch you down, Saint Cecilia?
  • You wicked woman, do you wish me to compound my crimes by desecrating the marriage bed?
  • Do you think I shall lose appetite for the meal if you are so long about serving it? No; I shall grow hungrier, more ravenous with each moment, more cruel…
  • Run to me, run! I have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse in my display of flesh!
  • Good fellow? I am no good fellow!
  • So late! You will want to sleep.
  • I have come home.
  • Yes, my beauty! Gobble you up!
  • My master has but one desire.
  • If you wish to give me money, then I should be pleased to receive it.
  • However, if you choose not to give me a present, then that is your right.
  • I shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.
  • Nothing human lives here.
  • All cats are cynics.
  • All good women have a missionary streak; convince her her orifice will be your salvation and she’s yours.
  • When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.
  • Once you’re in her bedroom if you don’t know what to do, then I can’t help you.
  • Keep your foul thoughts to yourself.
  • I must and will have her forever!
  • I’m burning with the fever of love!
  • I shall steal her away from her husband to live with me.
  • What do you propose to live on?
  • I am sick and tired of your foul-mouthed barbs!
  • You read my thoughts, my love.
  • Do as I say and never mind the reason!
  • Dead, is he? Broke his neck, has he?
  • Mother, mother, you have murdered me!
  • Coffee, you must have coffee.
  • I rarely receive visitors and that’s a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of strangers.
  • You have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.
  • I thought, perhaps, you might irradiate me.
  • I am condemned to solitude and dark; I do not meant to hurt you.
  • See, how I’m ready for you? I’ve always been ready for you.
  • You will feel no pain, my darling.
  • I will vanish in the morning light; I was only an invention of darkness.
  • Besides, aren’t you afraid of wolves?
  • Is it a bed? Shall we make a game of it?
  • What would you like?
  • There’s nobody here but we two, my darling?
  • I love the company of wolves.
  • Throw it on the fire, dear one. You won’t need it again.
  • What shall I do with my blouse?
  • What big eyes you have.
  • What big arms you have.
  • What big teeth you have!
Guardian Angel

    It was late at night and New York City was as lively as ever. There were no patrols tonight, their leader decided that they needed a well-deserved break. That didn’t mean that one of the brothers wasn’t out tonight. Under the guise of his nightly run to blow off steam, Raphael leaped from rooftop to rooftop; a small box in his hands. The contents of the box were handmade blankets, toys, and clothing in all sorts of colors.

    What started as a punishment in the Hashi had become a relaxing hobby for the red banded ninja. When he had time and the material, Raphael would make all sorts of things for his family. Winter patrols had gotten more tolerable now that they had sweaters. There was so much he could make for his family before they had enough.

So why not give back?

    Every few weeks Raphael would take a small care package to the shelters and orphanages of the city. He made sure to do it at a rotation so every place would get something and he had time to replenish his stocks. That’s how he found himself at a church-run orphanage. The building had seen better days, long forgotten by the city. He couldn’t really help with the building, but the least he could do was help the kids.

    Once he was certain the street was empty, Raphael jumped down and placed the box on the steps. He knocked on the door, the booming echo could even be heard outside. He went back to his hiding spot on the roof, wanting to make sure the package wasn’t left out all night. Not long after, the door creaked open and a little old nun stepped out. She smiled when she saw the box and went back inside. Raphael was confused, she never did that before..why now?

    His question was kind of answered when she came back with a small box of her own. She set the box down in place of the other one. She easily carried the box inside, Raph having made it a little lighter when he noticed she was always the one to take the gifts. He waited a few minutes before going down there. The box fits snuggly in his palm, a note attached.

Thank you for the gifts. The children love the toys and the blankets help during the winter. I wish we could do more to thank you. I know the children want to thank their Guardian Angel Raphael.

He was shocked. Raphael had left a note with his name on the last package he brought here, but that was weeks ago! He didn’t think they would remember… He decided it was safer to continue reading the note on a roof.

I don’t know if you are religious but the name Raphael means “God Heals” or “God’s Healer”. Though you haven’t repaired physical wounds, you have healed the wounds on the hearts of the children. They seem much happier and hopeful lately. Angel or not, you have done so much for us. Please enjoy your gift, it’s not much but may it bring a smile to your face.

God Bless You,
Sister Miriam

    Raphael opened the box. It was full of photos of the children with the things he made. There were letters with pictures attached, of course, addressed to him. He would deny up and down that he was getting teary eyed at them. He made his way home, promising to hide these from his brothers. They were his and his alone.

    Sister Miriam smiled from her spot at the upstairs window. She was, of course, surprised when she saw the large creature enter the dim light of the front steps. She was even scared, but upon seeing how gingerly he had picked up the package and read the note she knew, this was Raphael.

Once he was gone, Sister Miriam closed the blinds and began preparing the children for bed. They all were in their beds, wrapped in warm knit blankets and stuffed animals in hand. As she thought of a story to tell them she noticed a little girl and her stuffed turtle. She smiled and began her story of the Archangel Raphael. The angel of healing who stood next to God.

She may have added her own twist to the story.

anonymous asked:

Jealous curly headcannons pretty please💕

oh fuck 👅👅

— unlike soda, curly doesn’t enjoy showing you off in front of his friends
— you better act like a little nun honey keep those legs covered
— curly gets fr jealous when you flirt w his friends
— at first, he won’t even realize you’re doing it to get a reaction from him
— he’ll grab you prettydamnharshly and drive either to your house or his, completely silent
— and this boy will be gripping the steering wheel so tight you’re out here like oh boy don’t slaughter me
— curly will prob pin you against the wall and hook your legs around his waist
— as he tells you what you did wrong
— he’ll spend more time teasing you w foreplay than anything else
— curly will make you beg
— so get ready
— round one two three and four
— get yourself some gatorade bby