#I mean this is why son is the best hop book
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Thomas and Friends Season 2 Retrospective: Now With More Near Murders! (Comission for Lachiev)
Hello all you silly little engines and welcome to pop culture buffet were we dig deep and hearty into some of my faviorite media and throw the stale stuff out. And today we’re going back to the Isle of Sodor for another round of Stupid Train Children for @lachievpoststhings as it’s time for Season 2 of Thomas and Friends
As a quick recap: A few months back I took a look at the first season of the children show Thomas and Friends on comission... and I quite enjoyed it. While it’s obviously meant for younger children and not 30 year old man children, the show had charm, immacuatley constructed trains, and some truly gorgeous visuals from time to time. It was also hilariously weird from a bunch of conducters deciding to make lunch out of fish fished from a train’s engine to calling the controller of the railway “The Fat Controller” to said Fat Controller (Sir Tottingham Hat) bricking up a train “for always and always” for mildly disobeying him. It was a wild ride so I gladly agreed to hop back on the train once Lacheiv had the money for round 2.
Well he finally did so i’m pushing the Venture Bros season 4b review back a bit (and likely not diong retrospectives monthly anymore anyways0, so we can get more antics.
Production wise there isn’t as much to go into as last time, as I covered the origins of Thomas and Friends, how a reverend’s tale for his sick child lead to a children’s book and then a tv deal with producer Britt Alcroftt that spawned a still ongoing franchise.
That said there’s still some intresting stuff: For starters this is the first series to have tales based on the good rev’s sons followup books, which were in part comissioned to have new books, instead of the original works. On top of that it also has two scrapped episodes and two that were later done next season: The first, Gordon Goes Foreign, which has Gordon determined to learn the name of the british railway, was scrapped for budget reasons, as it had Gordon journeying to the mainland and thus likely required a brand new set. Why it wasn’t done in later seasons like Percy’s Promise and Double Header, which we’ll undoubtly get to either later this year or early next year as i’m sure lachiev wants me to cover season 3, remains unknown to me and the wiki isn’t any help.
The other scrapped episode had more understandable reasons for being scrapped, making it half way before Britt Alcroft scrapped it and with parts of the ep rejiggered for “Break Van” which ended up being the intro for Donald and Douglas, the twin scottish engines instead due to her citing the plot as actionless and too confusing... which judging from the summary I read I can agree, as it involves a special coach, the two swapping numbers and thus while not a lot to me probbaly isn’t the best thing for 5 year olds. I mean i’m all for not undereistmating your audiences intelegence but this is a bit much.
Otherwise it’s mostly same as it ever was just with even more stupid trains to get our main cast into more hyjinks. So without further ado let’s dive into the episodes themselves so I can have a laugh at these silly train children.
Coal:
Thomas gets mad at Henry for maybe accidently covering him in coal dust, Percy ends up getting covered himself. I nearly fall asleep
While the picture here of thomas with murder in his heart is neat this is one of those episodes I honestly forgot till looking at the episode guide. It’s just kinda.. there and seems fairly weak for a season opener.
Cows:
Gordon is a prick...
Which I won’t be counting as it may reach the thousands. He thinks henry is weak for having part of his cars uncoupled by a cow, only for one to prove to be unshooable when it shows up on the track. This one’s more like it as it gives the series cows
And has Gordon being punished for his hubris. And while god punishing the stupid train children for their hubris is the show’s mo, it’s the most satisfying when Gordon gets it as he’s the most insufferable. If anyone is going to make a fuss about something not being proper or right and get punished by divine retribution via something silly, it’s Gordon, though thanks to some later additions this season, he’s not the ONLY consitent asshole in the railyard. Just the most prominent.
Bertie’s Chase
When Edward is an impatient cotton swab about Thomas being late, unaware he had a malfunction and Bertie had to take his passengers Bertie has to chase him up down and everywhere to get his passengers there. IT’s a neat story honestly, a rare full on spotlight for Bertie who may creepy me out a bit, as he looks like a car Leatherface would make for a london holliday, but is awful sweet.
Saved From Scrap/Thomas and Trevor
So in this one Edward retuns again, this time finding a traction engine named Trevor during a visit to the scrapyard. Trevor is the first new addition this season.. and also the creepiest. See as me and @jess-the-vampire who watched the first third of the season noticed Edward really, REALLY likes to talk about how his favoirite thing is to be with the children or just “the children” And look is this just bad phrasing? Probably. Is this the creepiest thing i’ve seen this week? Given i’ve seen a teenager eat ice cream off his pants with a manic grin, no. But is trevor inherently creepy looking and comes off like Thomas is going to have an adventure about finding a kidnapped child in the vicar’s basement with trevor wearing a creepy mask? yes. Also Trevor gets adopted by a Vicar. I just like typing the word Vicar. Vicar. Vicar. Vicar. Vicar. Vicarrrrrrr. It’s just fun to say.
Thomas later becomes friends with Trevor against the advice of everyone and helps contribute to his child kidnapping shed by letting him be around kids more.
Not much to say about this second one or either of these other than i’d love to see Ethan Hawke voice a kidnapping train. Moving on
Old Iron
Pretty standard stuff: One train is a dick to another, god punishes the other train for his other hubris and the two bond. Standard day on sodor.
Percy and the Signals
This one is just 5 Minutes of Trains Being Dicks to each other.. which granted could and should be the title of the show, but still. Percy pranks, Gordon
And then Edward
Like Gordon geninely deserves it because he’s Gordo but Edward really did nothing. Also Edward gets punished.. despite his prank being told he got a message from the Fat Controller, aka his train dad, telling him to wait. Like.. Fat Controller.. dude.. Edward did nothing wrong. He thought he was listening to your orders. I mean it’s still far bellow sealing a train up to psychologically break him into obedience, so he’s grown as a person, but it’s also still what experts define as a “dick move”. The two get back at Percy for his hubris with a fake signal, which is pretty clever. All and all a highlight of the season as Percy suddenly being a prankish dick for no reason, the fat controllers weird hatred of edward and Gordon getting shamed all work to make this a fun one.
Duck Takes Charge
We meet new train Duck whose only real diffrence is his cool unique shape. He does make an impression though, not taking Gordon and the other big engines shit and having him and percy block them in. THe Fat Controller has none of it and tells them off for acting out.. and the bigger trains off for acting like they run the place, telling them if he had enough tunnels he’d brick in each and every one of their cabooses.... since I assume these trains do not have asses and i’m frankly scared to ask. I mean they have faces. So they could possibly eat. Either way i’m not sleeping tonight. Next!
Percy and Harold
We get our third new face, there are a LOT this season, with Harold, a hellicopter. And the effect for him is really cool as he’s clearly some sort of remote control hellicopter but not only looks real, but takes off impressively. How they pulled that off nor had him do so in time with the trains as this one focuses on Percy racing harold, I have no idea but it’s artistry like this that makes this series enjoyable. That and sentient vechiles being dicks. Harold claims it’s the end of trains with his existance and to make way for Homo Superior and such, so Percy and his fireman decide to prove him wrong with a race, which Percy wins. And honestly like Percy’s conductor, fireman and passengers I was rooting for him to kick this helicopters ass , and he did and it was wonderful. This was another highlight of the season and pure fun. I”ll also say I like harold’s design as he looks like the only vehcile character to not be wearing a freshly cooked face.
The Runaway
Thomas goes in for repairs but comes back with his brakes stiff and ends up running away due to a stupid coachman not knowing to compensate. It’s a fine enough episode with an intresting enough premise.
Percy Takes the Plunge
So this one’s sort of a sequel to the Mine episode from last time, as Percy figures he can ride on water
Ignoring Thomas’ warnings about a sign warning danger as Thomas learned about that the hard way. Naturally .. well God dosen’t even have to punish him for his hubris this time, dumbass goes over a bridge into the water and the Fat Controller simply leaves him there a while to teach him the lesson. It’s honestly the most vindictive the guy’s been since he bricked up poor Henry, but unlike that bit of psychological tourture, this bit of torture feels a TAD more warranted.
I mean it’s still a lot.. but Percy was warned about this, knew what happened with Thomas, and knew this was risky, and has PEOPLE inside him. Even if he wasn’t hauling passengers his fireman and coachmen were still inside, meaning they could’ve died. So yeah, leave the stupid train child in the lake for a few hours, let him learn not to nearly kill people with his stupidity.
The Diesel Trilogy
The next three episodes center around a new addition to the yard, a Diesel train... and it’s clear the good reverened REALLY didn’t like Diesels as Diesel is a huge asshole, and the first outright antagonist the series has had. While Gordon can be one, because he’s gordon, and the other trains take turn instigating the conflict, it’s really just a musical chairs of jackassery, and their just as likely to be the hero or simply learn a lesson via a horrifying accident.
In contrast Diesel is from the start an antagonist, and the other trains and fat controller only like him because he uses his smooth seductive voice and sexy backing soundtrack to seduce them into beliving him. Though behind the curtain instead of being a hard worker he’s natural a prickupine who only wants to do what he does and belivies in Disel superiority. I nevfer thought we’d be dealing with Train racisim but that shows I just hadn’t been paying enough attention.
So Duck let’s Disel fall on his own train-sword by letting him pull some old trucks that don’t move as well and letting his own ego make a fool of himself.
So Big Daddy Cool naturally takes this as you’d expect.. and plots to get Duck banished by sweet talking the trucks into spreading lies about Duck saying shit abotu the big engines, knowing Grodon’s pride and ego will cause him to raise a fuss, as will the others. The Fat Controller is forced to send Duck away, and Duck spends the next ep in exile hauling cargo.
And this episode.. is a treat as it has one of the more bonkers moments in the series thus far
So the Trucks, being nature’s second most perfect assholes behind Gordon, push Duck and cause him to nearly have an accident, barely switching rails.. but crashing into a barbershop. Duck tries to apologize but the Barber’s repsonse.. is to lather him with shaving cream in anger. I mean sure that’s one way to take nearly dying by train in your stupidly close to the rails barbershop.
So Duck is lauded as a hero and barberman repents by washing his face off while Disel got sent away offscreen. AN EPIC CONCLUSION.. which honestly it kinda was. I mean how many trilogies end with barbershop train crashes? I mean would lord of the rings have been better if it included Frodo getting a shave and having a train come in while sam who was obviously shaving his partner lathers up the train? yes. Yes it would have. Case dismissed.
Donald and Douglas Duology
Fittingly our next two chapters are about a set of twins. Yes engines can have twins, I don’t know how and i’m comfortable not having nightmares imaginging how that works in this universe.
The Fat Controller needs extra help around the yard, so he brings in Donald and Douglas, two scottish engines, with accents that are about as Scottish as Flintheart Glomgold. It sounds like someone trying to remember how to do scottish while drunk on Absynthe. It’s hilariously pathetic
So the Fat Controller plans to “send one home” which is cold for fire them from his canon into the murky depths surrounding the isle of Sodor. They are loyal to each other though as when Donald is bullied by a break van, Douglas defends his brother.. BY VIOLENTLY ASSAULTING THE CAR. I mean...it’s more just shoving him but he has no arms so he can’t take a crowbar to him and the thing has no head to put on a curb and stomp good. He has to work with the tools whatever cruel god made these trains sentient gave him.
Eventually though both are in danger as Donald and or Douglas accidently gets injured and the other one ends up CCASUING A MASSIVE ACCIDENT THAT KILLS THE BREAK CAR. Yes really. Apparently only trains get to surivive hubris. I mean look at him up there. He fucking died! His face is just.. being carried up there. This is the first time one of these characters has out and out died. Like I knew they’d get into stupid accidents due to their own hubris, it’s the shows basic plot, but holy shit.
The two are naturally in danger of being sent home after the homicide but the next episode has the two proving to be heroes despite having killed a man.. er car... abomination?
Okay good then. They save Henry who apparently hasn’t been through enough and got trapped in a snow bank, and the trains, nervous about an announcment from the fat controller, call a Deputation to save them and force a nervous Percy to do it because
The Fat Controller is also a mild dick about it telling them “I AM THE OUTER GOD EMPEROR YOU’LL DO AS I’LL SAY OR GET SENT TO THE MINES!”.. but was going to save them anyway. A fun enough two parter, especially the second half with Percy’s nervousness being hilarous.
Thomas Comes to Breakfast
So you had enough of Trains crashing into buildings people stupidly put close to the end of traintracks?
Then good because it’s Thomas turn to nearly kill some people and this time he has no valid reason like poor duck. Thomas is told by his conducter , jokingly that he can “drive himself”... which brings up a weird thing about this series. See the trains can SOMETIMES move all alone without a conductor or at least enough, but sometimes they can’t move at all and now this one gives us a third flavor, they can move a little but can’t do everything.
And I do get it, i’m asking for consitent lore from a show about stupid train childrne. The lore is “whatever the story needs”. But at the same time in a show where the layout of sodor and areas are clearly well thought out, why isn’t how the trains move thought out?
Anyways Thomas gets it in his head he can move without a master, and pays for his.. hubris I guess? I mean.. dude should be able to move his own body. he shouldn’t NEED a driver to make sure he can move properly he should just be able to do it. The more they reveal about these trains the more I go...
I mean... i’d watch Jordan Peele’s Thomas, wouldn’t you?
Anyways Thomas crashes into the station masters house, which I get why it’s near the station, obviously it’s a short commute to work.. but once again WHY IS IT AT THE END OF TRAIN TRACKS. And this time it wasn’t just some adults milling about... there were CHILDREN in there. Thomas the Tank Engine nearly killed a whole family.
He gets punished of course but.. you may see now why I take these comissions. While the money is very nice and in this case helped me when I needed it most, this series is just.. keeps baffling me. It’ll be a pretty standard kids show one second and then have death, near murder and exile the next. This is one of the times I really love my job.
The Daisy Duology
This one focuses on another new Disel, Daisy, who is full of herself, refusing to pull milk and only doing the jobs she does though unusually for this series she’s not punished for her hubris with some horrible accident, but instead extra work after percy gets hurt doing her work and is chewed out by the fat controller> Though as a sign of the changing writers, Daisy , unlike Diesel, actually reforms, befriends the engines and thus sticks around. We don’t see her the rest of the season, but it is a nice change of pace. Overall an okay two parter, though it does underline an issue with the season: it intorduces WAY too many characters. While it was a mild problem last season, most of them stuck around. But at this point we have 11 trains in the yard, a tractor, a pedophile, a bus, and a helicopter, not to mention temproary character disel and two MORE characters next episode. I’m fine with huge piles of characters in a series: it was one of the charms of Ducktales 2017 and Bleach has slowly won me over on it having so many and introducing them so fast as I read through it, even though it is often pushing it itself. But you have to have PERSONALITY in your giant bag of characters to justify having so many or it just falls apart. The characters of Thomas are mostly interchangable over these two seasons, with only their histories and very slight diffrences. We don’t need even MORE added to the mix. It’s hard enough keeping track of the ones we DO have.
The Diseaseal
So we’re thankfully at our final intros for the season, Bill Ben and Boco.. and while I stand by my rant as while having very unique and neat purpopses (the scottish twins are accident trains while these two transport china clay), they have the same personality. Seriously their both mischevous sets of twins. But again depsite standin gby my rant.. they do look neat, with unique deisgns, nice bright orange unique colors , especially in a series that tends to rely heavily on red, blue or green for it’s engines, and a cool overhang design.
The two decide to play a trick on a Disel that stole their trucks with their firemans approval but get in trouble somehow for it. Not a bad one as the twin magic is fun to see and Boco is the first Diesel to not be an ass at all, with the whole mess being a misunderstanding (though again why the two are punished when their drivers also participated is a mystery best left to God Emperor Fat Controller)
Gordon Is a Dick Again Wrong Road
Gordon sucks suprising no one, and complains about how the side tracks the other engines take are “not proper” and has to do it himself> This episode sure did happen
Edward’s Exploit
This is one of the season highlights. Bertie is driving Tourists around sodor as is James, whose exausted. Gordon wants to kill him for being old. I’m not even joking, he half jokes about James being sent to scrap. Thankfully other trains get pissed at him and James gets his finest hour, as he has to pull his coaches in the rain, while tired, and barely going on. So Gordon for once keeps his big trap shut. All is well
The Ghost Train
Percy decides the best course of action after Thomas tells him he ain’t afraid of no ghosts.. is to prank thomas by pretending to be dead and haunting him.
All in all a REALLY fun episode I suspect was for Halloween, with a creative premise (Percy sees a g-g-g-host and thomas dosen’t belive him), some fun visuals and a geninely creepy atmosphere despite being about stupid train children pranks. Easily one of the best episodes of the season
Wooly Bear
Thomas makes jokes about Percy being a catterpillar due to collecting hay lately.. and somehow gets the victory when Percy ends up covered in hay?
Thomas and the Christmas Tree
We once again end on a high and once again i’ts a christmas episode as Thomas goes to get the christmas tree only to get caught in a blizzard. it’s a fun but tense story as it’s up to the scottish twins to save him and the other engines worry of him being sweet, as is the heartwearming ending with all the trains, car like vehicles and pedophile traction engines. it’s a solid ending.
Final Thoughts
Season 2 was a mixed bag. On the one hand the new set pieces, some of the new effects and some of the nonsense was great. The crashes into houses and barbershops, the murders, attempted murders and suggested murders, it was all lovely and there were truly some great episodes. It’s main weakeness is it really just felt like more of the same outside of the breif injection of antagonisim with diesle. New thing gets introduced, maybe their a dick, maybe someone’s a dick to them, rinse and repeat. It really did nothing new with the cast nor really made them stand out from each other except prized asshole gordon. It wasn’t a bad season and i’m not expecting deep, rich character arcs from an 80′s television sohw for young children.. but I expected a bit more of a step up from a shows second season. Time will tell if Season 3 improves on this or not. But that’s up to Lachiev whenm, and if , he wants to do it. So for now I say good bye to these noble stupid train chidlren and their fat god emperoror dad controller and had fun doing it. Thanks for reading, consider joining my patreon, and have a good day, night or whatevers.
#thomas and friends#thomas the tank engine#ringo starrr#british#trains#gordon thomas#helicopters#traction engine
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For the OC Ask Game: 1, 12, 19, 29, 32, 46
1. Your first OC ever?
Katherine Cool (lmao XD) aka. Kaycee
She was my Mary Sue Self-Insert character my kindergarten self built an entire universe around so that she and her family and friends could travel through the multiverse and hop into any and every show, movie, book, etc. they wanted. She was originally a Lazy Town OC (second lmao), but I later turned her into a time traveler from the future. And the future was this absolutely ludicrous Star Wars parody story about a delivery service that makes deliveries to the good and the bad guys. She even had several revamps and so much character development over five years that she turned into a really good OC now that I think about it. I... don't know what happened to her later and why she became irrelevant.
12. Name an OC that isn't yours but who you like a lot.
(in alphabetical order)
Atrocity (acatpiestuff)
Crash Koozebane (beetle3000_1)
Drillburst (cuppajj)
Eva (by someone not on tumblr)
Kayleer (cryophase)
Magnum Opus (night-gem-shit)
Mazačka / Grease (ryuki_draws)
Roadrunner (geminiofpluto)
Starhawk (dimorphodon)
Steamsight (he's yours)
Tachyon (messengerofmechs)
Warden (ultirex)
19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)
That has to be Helios. He is my emotional punching bag, my poor little son, my personal outlet for writer's rage, my sweetest, purest baby boy, the most fucked up character in his story, a pathetic rat that doesn't know how to survive on its own and who also doesn't want to survive in the first place, a selfless, self-sacrificing doormat who would give up his meaningless life to save someone who has tried to kill him many times in the past but has also given him a compliment once, the one who has been used and discarded as if he were a drone so many times in his life he thinks it's the norm, the one who has learned to love without ever being loved back... until Nightjet and Ironwing entered his life and showed him that, in the end, he doesn't need to suffer alone.
:-D
29. Which one of your OCs would go investigate an abandoned house at night without telling anyone they're going?
Acidsplicer would do it for the thrills. She has zero hesitation to put herself in danger to sate her curiosity, but she also doesn't believe in ghosts. Her only reason for the visit is to get new inspiration for her art projects and other hobbies.
32. Which one of your OCs would be most suitable horror game protagonist and why?
I'd love to say Monochromator and Exopulse, because they've had to investigate a haunted creepy research ship once and survived, but they're not really horror game protagonist material. Maybe Mono is slightly more suited for the role than Exo, because he knows how to keep calm in stressful situations.
Otherwise, Triator would be the perfect protagonist if we talked about reverse horror games à la Carrion. He is the cosmic horror himself (an ancient being which was one of the Four Harbingers of the Apocalypse in ancient times).
46. Has anyone ever told you that you treat your OCs badly?
Haha, yeah. My best friend told me so just two days ago when I told her about the side story with Sparkattack, Mono, Exo, Azimuth, Venator and Triator. Today we even joked about Triator's cannibalistic tendencies and she repeated how all of them need therapy, so um, yeah.
Thank you for asking! I love to write about them so much!
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Unbind Me with characters of your choice, please!
"I'm bored."
Tasmir nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected statement. He hurried into his library, shutting the door hard behind him. "Mar!" he hissed. "Don't scare me like that."
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. But," Nymar drew out the word, idly kicking at the air, "I'm bored."
"I can see that," Tasmir said, eyeing up Nymar's upside-down position. "And that's comfortable?"
Nymar winked.
Tasmir couldn't help a huff of laughter as he made his way over to one of the shelves. "You know, there are plenty of books to keep you entertained." He slipped one out of its spot before heading for the chair not occupied by Nymar.
"Taz, darling, no offense, but books are boring."
"More boring than just sitting here?" Tasmir settled into his chair with a soft sigh of relief. "I'm fine," he said, knowing without looking that Nymar was about to voice his concern. "You know how my father is."
Nymar scoffed. "Well in that case." There was a rustle of fabric, then he plucked the book from Tasmir's grip and set it aside. Before Tasmir could protest, Nymar settled on his lap, wrapping his arms around Tasmir's shoulders. "Taz."
"Mar." Tasmir couldn't be too mad about the book theft when Nymar gave him those puppy eyes.
"Let me go?"
Tasmir hummed, running his fingers over the chain that looped around Nymar's wrist as he pretended to think. "No."
"Come on," Nymar wheedled. He leaned in to nuzzle against Tasmir's neck. "I promise I'll be good."
"Mhm." Tasmir turned and pressed a kiss to Nymar's temple. "Does that mean you won't threaten Jaxsu in any way?"
Nymar hesitated just long enough to be suspicious. "Yes," he finally said.
"I don't believe you."
"Oh come on!" Nymar shot upright, overbalanced, and toppled off of Tasmir's lap. He recovered before Tasmir could even begin to ask if he was alright, hopping back to his feet and resuming his indignant expression. "You know he'd deserve it."
"Which is exactly why I won't let you go and start a war between all three of our countries," Tasmir said.
He could practically see the wheels turning in Nymar's head as he tried to come up with a response.
Finally, he settled on, "It wouldn't be all three."
Tasmir lightly scoffed. "Mar, you're obviously a Catatian, acting as the guard of the Terrican prince, threatening the son of an Aslerean lord. There's no way that just blows over."
"Even if I state that it's just my own personal opinion, that doesn't reflect the views of either Catati or Terrica?" Mar asked.
"Personal opinions don't exist in politics," Tasmir replied.
Nymar grumbled and made a face.
"Now, if you're quite done--"
"Nope." This time, Nymar hopped up onto the arm of Tasmir's chair. "Entertain me. How are you covering up my disappearance?"
"I told anybody who asked that you decided to visit family in Catati," Tasmir explained.
"And why am I not actually doing that?"
Tasmir blinked. "Do you want to?" he asked slowly. "Sorry, I just--You usually have some excuse why you won't accompany me to Catati, so I assumed... But if you want to..." He trailed off, biting his lip. He shouldn't have assumed, that always led to something bad, or unexpected, or--
Nymar interrupted Tasmir's spiraling thoughts with a nudge from his knee. "How long will Lord Aleron be here?"
"Wh-what?" Tasmir was caught off-guard by the sudden topic change.
"How long are you gonna have to deal with Jaxsu?" Nymar asked, smirking a bit.
"I--uh--" Tasmir shook himself and took a deep breath to pull himself together. "If everything goes well, no more than a week."
"Mkay." Nymar fell silent, his gaze slipping to the window and the sunset just beyond.
"If you want," Tasmir said hesitantly, "if you promise you'll stay out of trouble to the best of your ability, you can go and I'll send you a message once Lord Aleron leaves."
Nymar hummed in acknowledgement, his expression far more serious than it usually was. Tasmir watched the way the golden light lit up his skin and made his hair turn into a halo. This was the closest they'd ever gotten to discussing the reason why Nymar had left Catati, and Tasmir wasn't sure if he wanted to push the matter any further.
The sun slipped below the horizon, cutting off the golden light. Nymar sighed and closed his eyes. "Come and visit me more. I'm bored here all by myself."
"I'll try to sneak away more often," Tasmir promised. He couldn't help but feel relieved by Nymar's choice. He was Tasmir's only true friend, and Tasmir couldn't imagine going back to the way life was before Nymar had crashed in.
"And can you take this off?" Nymar shook the chain around his wrist.
"No," Tasmir answered immediately. "I may trust you with my life, but I don't trust that you won't sneak around at night to harass Jaxsu."
"You wound me, love," Nymar said dramatically, swooning into Tasmir's lap.
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483 of 2023
Okay so I've been doing this in two days and that's why some answers are inconsistent lol.
At the moment
How are you?
Fine, thanks. Just went to pick up my medication in the pharmacy and preparing myself to go to the work doctor.
Are you with anyone?
My husband's son is upstairs, my younger cat too, just my older cat is next to me.
Are you doing anything besides this survey?
Not at the moment, this survey is "in between".
What are you listening to?
There's TVin the background.
Are you talking to anyone?
No, I'm not. Just occasionally to my kitty.
What are you wearing?
Black wide leg pants and black Vildhjarta t-shirt.
Are you eating or drinking anything?
Not at the moment, I had breakfast already.
Is there anything going on in the room you’re in?
Yeah, my cat is purring.
How is the weather outside?
Cold and rainy. October, welcome.
What time is it?
10:14.
Lasts:
Who is the last person you talked to?
My husband, at the very morning.
What is the last food you ate?
Chocolate/cinnamon flavoured oatmeal.
What is the last text asleep?
Wut? I don't even understand what this question is about lol.
Where is the person you last hugged?
My husband, unless the cat counts. Then the cat.
When is the last time you cried?
Long time ago, in April lol.
What did you do for your last birthday?
Existed and got one year older.
Where is the last person you kissed?
He's at work. Maybe I'm gonna meet him there. Perks of working in the same company as your partner XD
Besides anything computer related, what is the last thing you touched?
My older cat's fur. That's why she's purring now.
When is the last time you changed clothes?
Just put on fresh ones today morning.
What was the last TV show you watched?
Allo Allo. Never fails to make me laugh.
What’s/Who’s your favorite:
Color?
Black and green.
TV show?
Allo Allo, Keeping Up Appearances, Mr Bean, That 70s Show, The Big Bang Theory, and this documentary Inside the World's Toughest Prisons.
Food?
Gentse waterzooi, nothing beats it.
Season?
Summer because long days.
Movie?
I don't watch movies.
Item of clothing?
All my hoodies and all my wide leg pants.
Band?
HRFTR, Katatonia, Vildhjarta, Tesseract, eriphery, and dome hip hop artists like Sadistik, Eminem, and the Dutch ones.
Place to be kissed?
Wherever. Does anyone actually care about it?
Friend?
My husband, Marc, Johan and Kenny. Also Jeanmarie and his wife Jasmine, and then Caroline.
Sibling?
My sister. By default because I don't have any other siblings XD
Listings:
List five green things in the room you’re in.
box of Pringles
highlighter
ACV pen
inhalation stick for when you catch cold
notebook calendar for the next year
List four best friends.
my husband
Marc
Johan
Kenny
List seven things you’ve done today.
went to work for the doctor's appointment.
went to the pharmacy to pick up my medication.
travelled to Sint-Niklaas.
did some groceries in their Polish shop.
went to the sea.
travelled by train.
travelled by bus.
List one place you’d like to visit.
Finland.
List three holidays you like.
Christmas
Easter
and nothing else.
List two favorite stores.
HEMA
Kruidvat
List one reason you and your ex broke up.
Long distance, he's been absent for months due to his job.
List four things you like about your appearance.
Can't think of any lol. Maybe that I'm tall.
List eight things you like about your best friend.
he's honest.
he's funny.
he's genuine.
he's generally a great person.
he's a very happy dad of two cute girls. :D
he's loyal.
he says what he thinks and he's not afraid of the consequences.
he's smart and helpful.
List two favorite colors.
Black and green.
Random questions
Would you care if a friend was friends with an enemy of yours?
I mean, hang out with whoever you want, but not when we're all together. The thing is, I don't have enemies.
What was the last book you read?
That book about a girl who runs away from her house to meet the family from her biological father's side, but ends up being disappointed.
Are you looking forward to going back to school?
I'm 33. Too old for school eh?
Was this one of your favorite summers? Why?
Nah, but it was one of the good ones. We visited our family and spent a nice week there.
Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do?
Yeah, visiting Finland.
Where is the person that means most to you right now?
Next to me in the living room, putting things online to sell.
How many best friends do you have?
Quite a few.
Do you have any cuts or bruises on your body right now?
Yeah, a lot. I always end up having bruises in random places because my veins are weak and break easily.
Are you holding back doing or saying anything?
Not anymore. Maybe going to France by train.
What time will you go to sleep tonight?
Early because I have to get up early. Strike in Brussels, you know.
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Dazed and Confused (S 1: 4/?)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader
Warnings: mild language and violence
Word Count: 3.1k
Part Summary: Steve and Y/N spend the weekend together and on Monday, Nancy can’t remember a thing...
Masterlist
I woke up early with a headache and decided the best course of action is a hot shower. I let Steve stay in bed, after the tough night he had he deserves it.
After hopping out of the shower, I turn down my radio and quietly bop to
Culture Club. I wipe down the foggy mirror and start my hair routine. It takes a lot to get the voluminous hair of the decade. Once I'm done, I emerge back into my bedroom to grab a change of clothes, leaving my radio going.
"Morning," Steve voices, staring up at the ceiling.
I jump, squeezing my towel around me. "Oh uh, hi, sorry! I thought you were still asleep!"
He lifts his head and realizes I'm in a towel. His eyes grow wide. "Oh shit! No, my bad! I uh... I'll go downstairs!" He rushes to climb out of bed.
"No! No! It's okay! I'll go get ready in the bathroom! Let just me grab some stuff!" I hurry over to my dresser.
Steve settles back down with a sigh, clearly happy to be able to rest after the night he had.
"Have you been up long?" I ask.
"Nah, just thinking about last night and what happened with Nancy..." he states solemnly.
"Well, it's Saturday," I remind him of the perk. "My parents are gone to Chicago for a business trip for a few days, which means we can hang out here. A nice big chocolate chip pancake breakfast," I suggest, heading back toward my bathroom door.
"Sounds nice," he grins. "And then we could go to the mall, maybe rent a movie?"
"Splash?" I request.
He nods, meeting my gaze again. "Deal."
I move to head back into the bathroom to get ready with a content smile.
"Hey Y/N?" He rushes out, flying up from his laid position.
I hum, turning over my shoulder.
"Do you-" oddly, he stops himself, shaking his head. "Never mind," he laughs.
"You sure?"
He nods, "yeah. Don't worry about it."
I shrug and head back into the bathroom. Weird.
________________________________________________
Steve and I are curled up on my couch, watching Splash, one of my favorite movies. A bowl of popcorn and M&Ms shared between us, along with a blanket.
I shake my head, immersed in the movie. "I love-
"Tom Hanks," Steve chuckles, tossing some candy into his mouth. "How many times have you seen this movie?"
"At least a dozen," I confess.
He glances over at me. "You have a problem."
"Tell me about it," I smirk proudly.
Abruptly, the phone in the hall starts to ring. I huff, hopping up off the couch to get it.
"Want me to pause it?" Steve checks.
"Nah, I've seen it," I giggle and pick up the phone. "Hello?" I greet.
"I need you to come over, right now!" Dustin panics.
I frown, glancing at Steve through the archway in confusion. "Now? Why? What's wrong?"
"I've found a giant slug!" He rushes out.
"A slug," I repeat in annoyance. "Seriously, Dustin."
"I've named it Dart!"
"I'll see it on Monday," I move to hang up.
"No! You have to come over now!" He insists.
"Kinda busy here," I grumble under my breath.
"Busy? How are you busy? You're never busy."
"I am too! I have company!" I tell him.
"You don't have company, Steve is over," he argues.
I hurry over to the window, the phone cord following behind me. Steve watches me in curiosity as I scan up the road at Dustin's house. "Are you watching my house again?"
"That's not important!" He shouts, clearly guilty. "Why are you hanging out with Steve?"
"Why do you have a giant pet slug?" I fire back.
"Fine, just bring him too!"
"We can't, we have plans."
"Son of a bitch, you're really no help at all you know that?"
I scoff. "Oh save it, I drive you to school every day. Bye!" I hang up the phone.
Irritated, I walk back over to the couch and pull half the blanket back over me. Thankfully, I didn't miss anything good in the movie.
Steve hands me the candy bowl. "What was that about?"
"I don't have any biological siblings but I do have a little brother," I remark, making him snicker.
_________________________________________
On Monday morning, I blast Night Ranger through my Walkman as I unload my bag into my locker. Dustin wouldn't shut up about his stupid slug all the way to school. He was pretty annoyed that I didn't come in and see it this morning. I assured him that I would stop in when I drive him home. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder and I spin around, removing my headphones.
Nancy nervously rocks on her heels, gripping her books to her chest. "Hey, have you seen Steve?"
I frown. "Not yet, why?"
"Have you seen him since Tracy's?"
"Yeah..." I reply hesitantly, wondering where this is going.
"Well, he hasn't answered my calls all weekend," she tells me in a hushed tone, glancing up and down the hall for eavesdroppers. "Whenever I left a message, his mom called back and said he was out. Do you know what's going on with him?"
"I don't..." I drag out, debating on if I should tell her the whole truth. "After a certain point, all I remember is Billy hitting on me and Steve driving me home." I stick to what I know for sure happened.
Her face changes from concern to confusion. "Wait, he drove you home? I thought he drove me home."
"No, I mean unless he drove you home and came back."
She whines, glancing down the hall anxiously. "I better go talk him. I'll see you later!"
I nod and mumble an 'okay.' I watch as she hurries down the hall toward the gym where Steve likely is hiding. I slip my headphones back on with a sigh. This won't be good.
____________________________________
I walk out of Algebra with my friend Veronica, gushing about the newest Elton John album. Abruptly, a hand wraps around my wrist and I yanked away from her.
"Woah! Jesus!" I blurt out and my eyes land on Steve as he hurries me down the hall. "Okay Harrington, where are we going?" I laugh nervously.
He releases my wrist and presses his hand to my back. "McDonald's, a park, anywhere, I don't know! I just want to get out of here."
"But I still have chem before lunch," I remind him.
"You can afford to miss one class," he laughs. "Your GPA is what 3.9999-"
I roll my eyes but comply nonetheless. "Well, there goes my perfect attendance."
Steve and I run by McDonald's and enjoy our milkshake and fries in the parking lot. Steve has the radio quietly going in the background as he fills me in on the details of his talk with Nancy. In summary, it didn't go well.
"So she doesn't remember any of it?" I clarify.
"Appears not." He rolls his eyes, shoving some fries into his shake.
I nod, processing it all. Then, I remember what happened Friday morning. "I forgot to tell you. Jonathan came up to me on Friday and accused us of sneaking around behind Nancy's back."
Steve nearly chokes on a fry. "What?" He coughs.
"He saw you climbing out of my window," I explain.
"Well-" He starts to panic. "Well did you tell him we're just friends?"
"No, I told him we're having a wild, passionate, affair," I sass. "Of course, I told him!"
He releases a sigh of relief, holding his chest.
Geez, he's so dramatic.
"Maybe I should apologize to her," he determines.
My brows scrunch together. "For what?"
"Good point... Do you think he'll tell her?"
I shrug, how am I supposed to know? "I don't know. Probably not," I remark a tad more annoyed than intended. "Have they talked lately?"
"He drove her home that night. I told him to," he tells me.
"Oh..." I mumble, allowing my focus to wander outside.
Steve shifts in his seat to face me. "Do you think he knows I was at your place?"
"I don't know..."
He huffs, tossing his head back stressfully. "How did things get this fucked up?"
I reach across the divider and place my hand over his gently. "It'll work out."
He sighs, his eyes meet mine worriedly. "You really think so?"
I hum to reassure him, but frankly, I have no idea. I just don't have the heart to tell him the truth. Plus, it hurts to watch him worry about Nancy when a piece of me is selfishly happy that they're over.
__________________________________
Masterlist
#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#stranger things image#stranger things fanfic#stranger things smut#stranger things
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can i req some dad reiner fluff? i feel like he would have a lot of kids bc of the breeding kink 🥴 but yeah just some cute stuff pls thank uuuu!!
THE THOUGHT OF REINER BEING FATHER JUST DOES SOMETHING TO ME I- AJHSJS
THANK YOU SM FOR REQUESTING, ANON!! LET'S GET CAUGHT UP IN THE REINER BRAINROT TOGETHER <3
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—DAD REINER!
(MODERN AU + MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY + FEMALE BODIED READER + FLUFF + SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE + REINER BEING THE BEST DAD EVER DUH + TW: SLIGHT LANGUAGE)
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Dad Reiner who was such a hot mess moments before he became a father to begin with. The pair of you are situated inside a hospital room, occupied with things much bigger than a sprained ankle. He stood alongside you, his beloved, all the while; Encouraging your efforts and attempting to ease your pain with the squeeze of your hand within his bigger one. As fretful as he feels, it's no surprise that Reiner ends up passing out a good few times, and he wasn't even the one in labor. Though, the hard part is now over, and all his worry has subsided.
Dad Reiner who recalls whimpering, weakly grinning, and eventually bawling of joy when holding his child for the first time. You'd never seen his cries mingled with such joy before. He cradles yours and his newborn within firm forearms and large, mindful hands. The pair of you sob and smile, ogle your baby with a relieved, content thrum in your heart. You allow Reiner to attempt squeezing into the hospital bed beside you, as broad and weighty as he is, with your child being held right between you and him. He’s a hot mess, but an overjoyed one who has you; and little Reiner x [Y/N] junior 🥺
Dad Reiner who converses with you for days before ultimately deciding on a name for yours and his daughter— Joyce Braun. He contemplated on “Karina”, the name of his dear mother. Though, he wants his little girl to be better than any past generation, and rather goes with a more revitalizing name, one that holds a simple, but deep meaning in his perspective. As obvious as it sounds, the name means “Joyful”. That's all he wants; for his kid to be happy in this life, happier than he ever was. Therefore, he bases her name, the root of his dear child’s identity, on cheerfulness.
Dad Reiner who tends to grow somewhat frustrated. Not with you of course, not even with Joyce’s incessant wailing in the early hours of the morning, but with himself. It wasn't as though he did anything wrong, he simply hopes that he won't. Begs himself not to fuck up with this whole “Parent” thing. If it wasn’t clear enough, Reiner wants to be nothing like his own father. He’ll never, ever shoo his child away and disregard them, but instead use those same hands to hold, guide, and lift them up. It doesn't take long for the blonde to snap out of his funk, because he's sure that he can become all the better for the sake of his little family.
Dad Reiner who wakes to your still, ethereal-like form every morning, and it's enough to make his day. A kiss to your neck, a nibble along your earlobe, and a couple repetitive rubs to your waist and thighs are enough to stir you right awake. And if that isn't the case, then it's usually the other way around; You pressing soft, lengthy kisses to his sharp, attractive cheekbones. Despite who arises first, there’s always one thing that's bound to happen— Joyce making her arrival into the bedroom via crawl, with a babble and a cute, happy little shriek upon seeing her parents.
The pair of you have no clue as to how she manages to make her way over to your room every time, but you're simply glad that she does so safely. It's Reiner’s cue to leap out of bed and scoop her off of the carpet and into his awaiting arms, clad in nothing but a white tee and the baggiest sweats. He appears disheveled, but it's still clear to see the main striking similarity between him and his pretty little daughter; Those amber brown eyes that hold the same warm, yellowish hue as his do.
He rocks the giggling one-year old, back and forth and right back again, gazing upon his squirming bundle of joy until you mention that he’s been doing so for a whole ten minutes. He grows sheepish and merely chuckles in reply, resting Joyce’s head upon his firm chest with a sigh. He could do this for ten hours more if it were up to him.
Dad Reiner who knocked you up a couple more times, and real damn good at that. There’s something of a breeding fetish that he’s got on him, which is the reason why your little family is now two kids larger. There’s Joyce, who’s now seven years old, along with her two baby brothers, the pair being a mere one year apart from the other. You and Reiner no longer have to worry about checking on Joyce in her crib, for she sleeps on her own bed now, like the “big girl” she claims to be.
Though, the boys now have you both occupied, and you’re lucky to have an older daughter who’s so understanding and rarely ever grows jealous. Joyce, your girl who’s on more of the rambunctious side but ironically never pleads for attention, has been spending much more quality time with Reiner. Both you and him are busy with the boys, but the blonde tends to have free time on his hands every now and then. Besides, someone’s got to keep Joyce company.
Reiner happily obliges, and makes this father-daughter time worthwhile. Wholesome picnics to the park that always end in races back to the car and Reiner being a damned klutz and dropping his sandwich. Having a “spa day”, filled with Reiner’s not-so-great attempts at doing his girl’s hair, messy manicures and a hefty bag of makeup that Joyce “borrowed” from you. He spoils the girl as if the lot of you are rich (and since Reiner’s always got a hefty load of spare cash, you technically are), but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Dad Reiner who’s a lot more used to this “dad” thing now, since it’s been a couple good years down the line. You and him have amazing bonds with each of your kids, but they seem to latch onto Reiner’s large, broad body at any given time a lot more than they do you. Joyce is twelve, the brothers are five and six, and Reiner’s officially a DILF— The finest one at that. His stubble stays nicely trimmed, along with the subtle creases at his eyes becoming a little more distinctive. Goes to work, and sometimes takes the kid’s lunches instead of his own, because that's just the Reiner Way.
He’s the ultimate father in practically every situation, even when looking out for peers and comrades. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just that habits easily stick with Reiner, and it’s rather difficult for him to let them go. Besides, with three kids, how do you expect him to not be in “dad mode”?
Dad Reiner who utterly loves having random little talks with his kids, and never invalidates them, not for one second. It’s almost as though he can see things in their perspective, and they don’t know anyone else better to vent to other than their dad and mom. Though, when they tend to babble on about something that’s rather popular within their generation, it gets hard for him to catch up. They proceed to call him “old” and receive a good chase around the house before they get caught and looped into a tickle attack, and that's basically the worst thing imaginable if you’re in the Braun family. The reason being is Reiner’s unparalleled speed, despite his age; Thirties to early forties, but he’s still extremely fit, and has no problem running a mile if he has to.
Dad Reiner who’s in love with his family and the person they’ve gradually helped him become. You cherish him and your kids like none other, and he does the same. Sometimes it abruptly dawns on him; He’s a dad, and he’s actually a good one, who would’ve known? He smiles to himself, allowing his amber eyes to flit over to wherever you are before his soft grin grows wider. You look back, blow a kiss, and he does the same. The action is exchanged before he strides over to give you the real deal— Though, your sweet little peck is all cut short when Joyce and the boys skip in and start making kissy noises, with you and Reiner laughing all the while.
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“Papa,” Gale, the youngest son of the bunch, calls aloud and gains his father’s attention. Reiner peers up from his book and gives a brief, questioning response. “Yes, dove?” It’s a simple, sweet nickname; One that he calls you, Joyce, and the boys.
“Mommy’s in the bathroom crying.” The blonde drops his novel with an punctuating hitch of his breath, the book falling upon the couch with a dull thump. “—Why? Is she alright?” Reiner, the man who generally keeps himself rather poised, is now frantic, sharp brows downturned at his son's statement.
“Uh, I dunno. She’s crying, but smiling too.” This then causes Reiner’s brows to furrow. “Smiling, you say?”
“Yeah. Can we go out to get ice cream today? I wanna get, uh.. Chocolate chip, please!”
Reiner lets a brief laugh slip loose at Gale’s query, but he has to prioritize his wife over a summertime snack. He then begins to make a beeline towards the bathroom, in search of you. “Soon enough, dove. I’ve got to go up there and check on your momma first, alright—?”
Gale then shrugs and hops onto the couch, little feet padding along the spacey seat as the leather creases underneath his weight.
“By the way, Papa,” Reiner then pauses, open to any vital information his son could give, “she has this funny stick thingy in her hand. It’s got two little lines on it and stuff.”
Reiner chokes on his breath, lower lip beginning to tremble and quirk into a smile. If the case is what he thinks it is, he’s got all the reason to bust out with the teary eyes and jovial whimpers, just as he did when receiving the news of his three expected children in the past.
“A stick..?”
“Mhm,” hums Gale, proceeding to jump upon the dark brown couch, “Mama probably wants some chocolate chip ice cream too.”
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#Reiner brain rot#dad!reiner#reiner brainrot#Reiner x reader#Reiner Braun brain rot#Reiner Braun x reader#Reiner x female reader#Reiner Braun x female reader#aot#and#shingeki#attack on Titan#shingeki no kyojin#harmoni writes#harmoni loves Reiner#Reiner aot#Reiner attack on Titan#Reiner snk#aot brainrot#snk brainrot#Reiner drabble#RAINAH#;;🖤.harmoni loves reiner
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could u write where draco and y/n tells scorpius how they met, their relationship etc etc throughout hogwarts ☹️☹️ and scorpius is just like omg :O and maube y/n can be a hufflepuff so like a super cute slytherpuff relationship ARGH (ofc u dont need to do it 👍🏻 no pressure!! have a great day 🤍)
undying love | draco malfoy
pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader
word count: 1,5k
summary: where draco and y/n tell scorpius about their love story
a/n: i love family tropes :( thank you for sending this in! <3
warnings: none
universe: harry potter
“Mommy, look what I found!”, your son calls for you through the house and shortly afterwards you can hear him coming down the stairs at an unbelievable speed, running to you in the kitchen. With a cup of tea and the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, you sit at the dining table and look at Scorpius as he walks towards you with what looks like a photo in his tiny hands.
“Look, look!”, Scorpius says excitedly while placing the moving picture on the table in front of you. A gentle smile forms on your lips as you take a closer look. The magical photo shows Draco, your friends and you at your graduation from Hogwarts so many years ago. You proudly hold your certificates in front of the camera, the traditional graduation hats on your heads, waiting for the enchanted boats, that took you to Hogwarts prior to the start of your very first year, ready to leave Hogwarts forever.
At the sight, beautiful memories of your school days come up inside of you and you have to hold back a sob until you notice that Scorpius’ big, interested puppy eyes are still on you.
“Yes, that is us, Scorpius darling”, you smile at him gently and pull him onto your lap in order to take a closer look at the picture together.
“But Mommy had completely different hair then!”, Scorpius giggles and points at your former self, which is smiling brightly into the camera with Draco’s arm tightly embracing you and pressing you against him. “And the hats look funny!”
“That is true. The photo was taken several years ago. It was when we graduated from Hogwarts. You know, in a few years, you will be going there too. It is a special school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is for young magicians, to teach them everything they need for their life in the Wizarding World”, you explain to your son, whose gaze is still fixed on the photo.
“Mommy and Daddy have been a couple for that long?”, Scorpius marvels at your words and averts his gaze as he shifts on your lap to look up at you. Kissing him on the forehead, you smile and nod.
Before you can tell him more about it, however, the slamming of the front door announces that Draco is back home.
“Daddy!”, Scorpius immediately exclaims excitedly and hops down from your lap, takes the photo from the table and rushes to the entrance. Because of Draco’s following laughter coming from the hallway, Scorpius must have happily thrown himself around his father’s neck as he usually does as a welcome.
With Scorpius in his arms, your husband finally walks into the kitchen while Scorpius is babbling incoherently. Not quite sure what it is about, Draco just smiles before greeting you with a tender kiss before putting Scorpius back down on your lap.
“Look, Daddy! Look what I found! That is you!”, your son giggles and hands Draco the photo. A big grin immediately decorates his lips when he looks at the picture and he sits down at the table with you.
“Oh yes, it really is us. But we were still pretty young then”, Draco chuckles and Scorpius fidgets on your lap, wanting to know as much as possible while leaning forward.
“How was it at Hogmarts?”, Scorpius asks innocently and due to the misnomer, you and Draco can’t help but giggle in unison before Draco softly tousles your son’s white hair, which he naturally inherited from his father.
“It was a great time that I would not want to miss for anything in the world. If I had not gone there, I would have never met Mommy”, Draco explains, getting Scorpius’ full attention. “Just wait until you are eleven years old. You will experience incredible adventures that you would not even dare to dream of right now.”
“Eleven?!”, Scorpius huffs out in shock and puts on an offended expression while crossing his arms in front of his body. “That is too long! I want to go there now.”
“I am afraid you will have to wait a little longer, but I am sure that you will become a great wizard someday”, you reassure Scorpius, although you feel a little nervous inside. Yes, you have had wonderful adventures that ultimately made you stronger. Still, most of them were extremely dangerous, and it was not just once that you skipped death.
“Once you are in Hogwarts, you have to make sure to get into Slytherin”, Draco mentions, earning a shocked expression from you.
“No way! Scorpius will definitely be a Hufflepuff. I mean, look at him!”, you deny your husband’s statement and softly squish your son’s cheeks. “It is in his blood.”
“What is a Slinger and Pufflehuff?”, Scorpius asks interested, looking up at both of you.
“There are four different houses at Hogwarts that every student is placed in during the Sorting Ceremony at the beginning of their first year. I was a Slytherin, the best house there is. You will get into Slytherin if you are resourceful, determined and ambitious. Your mother, however, was in Hufflepuff”, Draco explains to Scorpius, a disparaging tone in his voice as he talks about your house. “Only the uncool children who are patient and loyal go there. Totally boring.”
“Draco!”, you utter out indignantly and give him a slap on the upper arm.
“I want to be a Slytherin”, Scorpius decides and while Draco is obviously happy about this statement, you can only shake your head in disbelief. “But if you do not like Mommy’s house, why did you fall in love?”
In response to Scorpius’ straight forward question, even Draco’s words get stuck in his throat and he does not know what to say next.
“Oh exactly, why did you fall in love with me when I was so extremely boring?”, you mock him playfully, raising your eyebrows as you now look at him expectantly.
“In the end, everyone is the same, no matter what family or house you come from. You must know, Scorpius, your mother actually hated me, but she just could not resist me and my charm”, Draco winks at you while telling his lie – well, maybe not all of it is a lie.
“Your father was really obnoxious when he was younger. Always considered himself the most sublime and someone had to teach him otherwise and get him back to the ground. He really did not like that it was a girl from Hufflepuff who taught him a lesson in the end”, you giggle and make Scorpius laugh with your story.
“That is not funny! Everyone laughed at me after you turned me into a weasel!”
“Wow! You can do that?”, Scorpius asks amazed and turns to you while you reach for your wand that lays on the table, nodding.
“And I could do it again anytime”, you threaten your husband and point the tip of your wand at him, but he does not move a bit.
“You would not dare. Unless you want all your books to fly around your head again”, Draco replies, thus awakening the painful memory of when he had bewitched your books and they literally flew around your head.
“Actually, your father always did all of this to impress me. At some point it might have actually worked”, you continue to tell Scorpius about your love story, a love story which is probably not that common.
“If I had not negotiated an armistice back then by taking you to the Yule Ball, then maybe we would not be here today.”
“And if I had not given you another chance, I would probably never have found out what a great person you actually are”, you smile at him lovingly, while Scorpius just sits in front of you with his mouth wide open, listening intently. “Suddenly, Daddy was very friendly and attentive, he bought me gifts every week until I finally showed mercy and returned his love.”
“What are you even talking about? I clearly had to reciprocate your love, not the other way around!”, Draco intervenes immediately, although you both know exactly that what you said is true. He just wants to look cooler in front of his son.
“Mommy and Daddy loved each other very much and that is why I am here”, Scorpius grins, leaving you two speechless yet again, ending your little argument.
“You are right. And I could not have asked for anything better in my life than your mother, Scorpius. Had she not been there a few times, I would have done very stupid things. I am very grateful that we have found each other and that we now also have you in our life. I could not think of anything more beautiful”, Draco admits, and his demeanor is suddenly so loving and gentle, something he was afraid to show back then. Something you taught him to not hide but to show openly.
“Your father and I, we complete each other. We always did”, you reply as you all take a look at the photo again. “I would even say that we are even happier now than we are in this picture.”
#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco imagine#draco malfoy imagines#draco imagines#draco malfoy os#draco os#draco fanfiction#draco fic#draco ff#draco malfoy fic#draco malfoy ff#draco one shot#draco malfoy fluff#draco fluff#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco x hufflepuff!reader#hp imagine#hp imagines#harry potter imagine#harry potter imagines
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I have just seen your response regarding the Cullen linguistics and when I thought I couldn't love it more, I quickly found your theory regarding their changing terminology. (Your mind is beautiful!!!)
By your own admision, you mentioned it would be reeeeally rare for Carlisle to swear. Do you have any ideas for what kind of behaviour causes each individual to curse?
(And not just, for eg, Bella's general existence)
You're so sweet, @youareonlyastory! My mind is actually dead at this time of year, so I've turned it to vampires for awhile to reboot it. 🥰
(Prev vampire linguistics post)
Some of the characters I've thought about more than others, but here are some observations.
Easy: Jasper and Emmett. Emmett is the only one who swears in canon (“Damn you’re a mess”), and if you extrapolate that there’s lots we don’t see in canon plus that dialogue != real speech, it’s a hop skip and a jump to these two swearing a lot. They are the ones who are the most like to get into it over nothing and suddenly get deep into a very mouthy exchange until someone notices Esme standing there, wide-eyed. She's heard it all by this point, but they still hang their heads and say "oops, sorry" when it's her listening. Jasper swears using more slang original to his era, but fuck, piss, damn, were all already quite common. Emmett is playful and outgoing and likely picks up new slang pretty readily, so he's more likely to use some of the newer constructions like flying fuck or fuckin 'a, or ADJ/ADV as fuck.
Also pretty easy: Edward. I really need to re-read [ETA: oooh that was an autocorrect error in the original post--it turned "reread" into "read" which are not the same thing. I've read that sucker, it's just painful to read it again.] Midnight Sun again just to be on top of it but I keep opening it and putting it down because that boy's head is hard to read. One gets the sense in the original saga that he's a bit stuck up but holy cow, when you’re in his POV it is painful how conceited he is. So Edward swears very little. He thinks casual swearing is beneath him. He swears when things are truly dire, like with the van. He occasionally trades a few words with his brothers and they treat him like a kitten who is hissing at them when he does.
Bella: grew up in peak fuck patois generation and should be a big f-bomb user. However, most of her language comes from the kinds of books she reads--she's a wallflower who hasn't spent much time hanging around her peers. So she knows the words, but doesn't use them very often, especially compared to other women her age. You get a bit of her annoyance with Lauren in the books, and to a lesser extent Jessica; even though she thinks of herself as uninteresting, she also thinks of some of her classmates as vapid. She's going to distance from them linguistically just like she does socially.
Rosalie: Thinks its unladylike and beneath her, much like Edward. She didn't swear as a human and pretended to be scandalized, and she doesn't do it much as a vampire. Emmett can coax her to play with it a little bit when she's hunting or working on cars. And I'm inclined to take an out-of-universe explanation that the Twilight saga was written by someone who doesn't herself swear much if at all, and was written at the beginning of the surge of YA, when people were much more circumspect about what kinds of language belonged in YA books, for the explanation why we don't see her ever think will you fuck off? to Edward in Midnight Sun. I imagine she swears at him in her head with some regularity.
Alice: Alice is hard. She's very fun loving, which means she's pretty likely to embrace new language. And she has no memory of who she was before, so she's not influenced by ideas of what she needed to be as a human, unlike Rosalie, who is still very much clinging to that high society debutante identity. She's much freer to explore. So my guess is she can get up to it with the boys, but probably doesn't usually.
Renesmee: Sounds like a GenZ-er. It drives everyone crazy. In addition to swearing, she uses things like sus and "girls gays and theys" and definitely went through a "yolo" phase. She's constantly trying to figure out where she fits, and trying on all the latest language is a big part of that.
Carlisle: swears with his sons, mostly over sports. Many of the newer terms don't even feel like swearing to him, so he thinks it's funny to try them out. There's a line in one of my short stories where I decided for writing purposes that the best narration was to just say "Carlisle cracked one far into right field and informed them both that they could do something to his genitals that left them with their mouths hanging open." I have a very clear idea of what it was that he said, though and it was shocking. Trash talking with his sons makes him feel young and light.
He swears in anger only when extremely exasperated, usually with Edward, and that's when you get the 17th century swears.
Esme: Largely does not swear. She is moderately amused when Carlisle trash-talks the boys, and just shakes her head disapprovingly at him. She's learned to use a little bit of language in bed, though it happens at intervals best measured in years. When she does, she and Carlisle both find it sexy.
Or is that "they find it sexy AF"? 😉
Thanks for the ask!
#linguistics#twilight#vampire linguistics#cullen family#carlisle cullen#Esme cullen#Emmett cullen#Jasper Hale#Edward cullen#Bella Swan#Alice cullen#rosalie hale#asks#youareonlyastory
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Monkey in a Jar
Summary: Qi Xiaotian decides to look for information on Lady Bone Demon in the Demon Bull family's penthouse.
Notes: Inspired by some artwork @azelforest-art-corner made inspired by a prompt fill @purble-turble did.
-_-
For once, Xiaojiao's stalking had come into use.
Three days ago, Xiaotian had met the demon known as Lady Bone Demon. The first demon that had gotten Sun Wukong banished from the pilgrimage west. The demon who was clearly planning something.
Sun Wukong hadn't answered any of Xiaotian's attempts to call him. (He wasn't going to think about that.) Everyone else was just going to get hurt. So it was up to him to find something. Which included research.
And the first place that made sense was the Demon Bull family. They were the ones who probably released her, guessing by the skeleton key that matched her that Princess Iron Fan had stole and the whole… possession thing that had taken over DBK shortly after that. And that was where Xiaojiao's stalking had come in.
She had managed to attach a small camera to each member. Red Son and DBK during New Year's and Iron Fan during the cook-off with Yin and Jin. With that, she had figured out that Iron Fan had left her husband and son sometime after the city takeover. DBK and Red Son had been living in a penthouse in the gilded part of the city- one full of much older demons- but DBK had left to rejoin Iron Fan a week ago.
Leaving Red Son alone.
Which was why Xiaotian eyed the building in front of him. It was the apartment building the penthouse was in. Usually, Red Son was gone during this time. No better time to see if there was anything about Lady Bone Demon.
When the street had cleared enough, he shot across it and to the side door. He slipped behind some lady with antlers and headed for the elevator. He pressed the very top button, like Red Son had been recorded to do, and then mumbled "Think small."
When the elevator opened, a small Xiaotian hopped out. He wasn't sure if there was cameras, but he wanted to be safe just in case.
The penthouse was a meld of modern style and something out of the Tang dynasty. Despite it, the living room felt oddly… empty. Xiaotian shook it off and-
"Hello?"
He froze.
Red Son.
He wasn't supposed to be home!
He ducked behind a urn as the demon came down the stairs. The redhead eyed the elevator before shrugging, turning back up the stairs. When Xiaotian was sure he was gone, he sighed.
The living room, as well as being empty of personality, was empty of anything hinting to Lady Bone Demon. There wasn't anything, in fact. Maybe the dining room?
Nothing there.
The kitchen seemed to have some personality, with dirty dishes waiting to be cleaned. Xiaotian had just hopped on the counter when footsteps made him freeze. He quickly scrambled to hide, ending up next to a picture of Red Son and DBK and their skewer stall, when Red Son entered. He opened the fridge and started rummaging through. Holding his breath, Xiaotian moved to hop off.
His foot slammed into a pen.
It fell off the counter.
Red Son slammed the fridge shut, looking around with a raised brow. Xiaotian scrambled back, right into the picture. At the force with how he hit, it fell over. Biting back curses, Xiaotian barely avoided being knocked over.
And fell right over the counter.
Thankfully, all it really did was knock the air out of him. Which, weird. He was small enough that he should've hurt something.
But Red Son was coming over!
Xiaotian ran, barely avoiding running into the demon's boots. But he finally collapsed against the wall, sighing in relief. That had been too close.
He headed to the stairs. He didn't notice Red Son, still in the kitchen, grab a jar.
With a quick vault with the staff, he was on the upper level.
The first few rooms he checked were bare of anything. In fact, they looked barely touched. The master bedroom was spotless, with a giant portrait of the Demon Bull family seeming to be the only personal touch. There was nothing about Lady Bone Demon.
Not until Xiaotian entered the last room.
This seemed to be Red Son's room. Posters of different vehicles adorned the walls, with bookshelves filled with books, scrolls, and tolls, and a messy desk, a gamer chair set in front. But the best part was above the desk.
Xiaotian hopped onto the desk to take a closer look. There were pictures of a white and blue sarcophagus. Red string connected it to a list of names, titled People to Ask.
Before he could take another look, his world was suddenly upside down. He hit the bottom of a jar. Before he could scramble out, try and find the staff, a lid slammed down.
"Well, well, well, what an interesting little bug I've caught."
Xiaotian squeaked at the sight of a giant Red Son, smirking down at him. "Uhh...hi, Red Son?" He tried for an innocent smile. "How's it going?"
"Well," Red Son settled down in the chair, still smirking. "I've just caught a little pest."
"Look, I didn't- I mean- I'm looking for information on Lady Bone Demon."
Red Son's smirk dropped as he turned to the pictures. "Lady Bone Demon… Interesting."
Okay, here it was! A way out!
"How about we exchange what we know?" Xiaotian offered, still shakily keeping his smile. "I'm looking for information on her."
Red Son hummed. "Interesting. What else can you offer…" The smirk on his face made Xiaotian whimper, both in dread and some other feeling he didn't want to recognize.
He started scrabbling on the side as the demon chuckled.
"I'm definitely going to take my time with you…"
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This made my day seeing your requests open!!
I’d like to please request some hot dominat Clyde action. We all know he’s a softy, but we all also know he’s capable of being a big and scary if he needs to. Thoughts on Clyde protecting you from something and then still being riled up with you after, in all the best ways? :)
Hiya anon! I was happy to write this for you. Fun story, what Clyde does (re: the beer bottle) in this story is actually something a bar tender did when defending me from a creep back in my college bar hopping days lol. I WISH it was Clyde who had done it. I would have loved to thank him. 😉
Out of Trouble
Clyde Logan x Reader
Word Count: 2,730
Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex, possessiveness, dirty talk
You reassess the situation you find yourself in – by no means an unfamiliar one, but definitely out of the norm these days and wholly unpleasant all the same. The man currently harassing you at the bar is clearly not a local. First of all, you don’t recognize the handsy son-of-a-bitch. And secondly, everyone in town knew that you were Clyde’s girl.
You two had only recently made things official, but in a way, hadn’t you always been Clyde’s girl? Your best friendship had always been tinged with a sweetness that surpassed the roles of mere pals. Sure there was flirting, how could you resist with the way a properly timed tease or suggestive comment could make Clyde blush and stammer as if on command? But even more prevalent, and more obvious to the patiently waiting members of the town, was the ownership you both had of one another. People knew better than to hassle either of you, verbally, hypothetically, or otherwise, in the presence of the other. You had Clyde’s back and he had yours, each of you displaying a possessiveness that made others smirk and roll their eyes while hiding their jealousy. You had what they did not, and now that the two of you were finally dating, envy was a common emotion amongst regular Duck Tape patrons.
Something this creep clearly was not privy to it would seem as he reached out to caress your forearm, an action which you flinch to avoid.
“Come on, baby. Let me buy you a fucking drink,” he was saying at this point. He was getting more forceful and though you had previously been courteous in your refusals, you realize that it might be time to fight back. He swayed on his barstool before continuing. “Stop being such a bitch. What could one drink hurt?”
“Every bone in yer fuckin’ body,” comes a low, deep growl that makes both you and the creep look up to the swinging door behind the bar. Your heart swells with relief and other, undefinable emotions as Clyde stalks up, his massive body an intimidating figure as it looms over the other, weasel-y man, threatening even with the bar between them.
“W-what’s your problem?” the creep practically squeaks before clearing his throat and jumping up, trying to draw himself up to his full height, which just comes across as laughable. Of course, next to Clyde, any height would be laughable.
“My problem is yer comin’ onto m’girl. That’s my problem.” His tone is deadly quiet. That’s your Clyde, soft spoken, even as his flesh hand clenches and murder simmers behind his eyes.
“Look, she was sitting here all alone. In my book that makes a bitch fair game - ” the creep begins, but he doesn’t get much farther with his misogynistic diatribe because Clyde reaches over, grabbing a nearby customer’s almost empty beer. Grasping the bottle around the neck, Clyde smashes the bottle down against the edge of the bar. The barrel shatters with a loud crash that silences the din of the room and causes the neck of every patron to whip around for the source of the sound. Clyde stands before the creep brandishing the remaining shards of the beer bottle like a shiv.
“Here’s what yer gonna do,” Clyde says calmly, the violence of his actions not succeeding in raising the volume of his voice. “Yer gonna apologize t’ the lil lady fer troublin’ her, understand?”
The creep stares at Clyde, wide-eyed and panicked before nodding and turning to you hastily.
“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry –”
“Good,” Clyde says, cutting the guy off so that he can no longer address you. You eye Clyde as he waves the shattered bottle menacingly. He’s never looked bigger. Never looked darker. Never looked hotter. When he speaks again his voice is even lower, if that’s possible. “Now yer gonna get the fuck outta my bar.”
The creep is gone in a matter of seconds, running out the front door so fast you almost imagine his skeleton being left on the bar stool in his wake like some frightened cartoon character. Before you can look back up at Clyde, his large hand is encircling your wrist and yanking you toward to door to the back of the bar. You let yourself be pulled, barely registering how the conversation kicks back in, customers already basking in the aftermath of Clyde’s rare emotional outburst.
Once the door to Clyde’s office is safely shut behind you, Clyde pushed you to sit down on his couch while he paces back and forth in front of you. You’re bewildered by this response, unsure if you should say something so you remain silent, watching him. After a moment Clyde yanks a hand through his hair forcefully. You swallow and decide to finally speak up.
“Are you okay, Clyde?”
“I’m NOT fuckin’ okay,” Clyde replies and you’re shocked at the way his voice raises with his words. You’re suddenly worried he’s gotten the wrong idea and you’re quick to fold your arms defensively across your chest, your own voice rising.
“Hey, if you’re mad at me you should know it’s not like I encouraged that asshole.”
Clyde is quick to round on you, looking panicked.
“I didn’t say ya did. I know ya wouldn’t…ya’d never…” Clyde trails off into a growl and resumes his pacing, flesh hand clenching and unclenching.
“It’s over, Clyde,” you soothe now, switching tactics and lowering your own defenses. He’s clearly distressed and you’re not sure how to calm him. “He’s not the first and probably won’t be the last guy to bother me.”
“That’s what’s killin’ me, darlin’. What if I hadn’t walked out? What if ya were alone an’ this happened?”
“I can take care of myself, you know.”
“I know ya can,” Clyde says, voice more characteristically quiet now but frustration no less palpable as he waves his prosthetic arm distractedly. “I dunno what’s gotten intuh me. I saw him touch ya an’…an’…” Clyde reaches out and swipes across a table, throwing everything to the ground. His chest heaves with his outburst. Yours is rising and falling rapidly now, too, but for you its stemming from the realization that this man. This sweet, beautiful man is losing his cool over his desire to protect you. To defend you. You’re a modern woman. As you’d just told him, you can take care of yourself and you are very proud of that fact. But something about the dark look in his eye and the way his muscles shift tensely beneath his shirt and the way he stomps before you makes you feel like you want to disappear in his arms and never resurface.
“You’re a good man, Clyde,” you say softly. He shakes his head and gives a humorless laugh.
“Not tonight, I’m not, darlin’. Not with these thoughts. I haven’t felt this way since…”
“Overseas?” you ask. He nods, trying to take a deep breath but releasing an even angrier exhale.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I can’t seem to calm down. I’m just so fuckin’ mad.”
You watch your big bear, usually so gentle, wrestle with his emotions before you. Immediately you have an idea, standing up and moving to him. Using one hand to peel open his fist and interlace your fingers. He grips you too tight but you just bite your lip. Your other hand slides over his bicep and shoulder, kneading into the tense muscles there as you press your face into his chest. His prosthetic arm winds around your waist, pulling you into his body naturally. This does nothing to slow his breathing, which picks up more speed. Feeling you against his body is reminding him of how small you are. How vulnerable. He feels another surge of rage and desperation course through his veins.
“I don’t know why I’m feelin’ this way,” he mumbles but you reach up and grab his face to force him to look at you.
“Feel whatever way you feel,” you reassure him. You lift up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, but the force with which he responds steals your breath. His arms wind around your body and crush you to him as his tongue ruthlessly explores your mouth, as if searching for solace can only be done in the space where you are most conjoined. The aggression is dizzying and his fingers are bruising on your frame but you love it. Used to light touches, soft caresses, you feel a hunger burn beneath your skin, as if your every muscle is rejoicing at the deeper pressure, the deeper friction.
When Clyde finally pulls away you are winded and dazed, now breathing just as heavily. His eyes look no less wild but now there is a tinge of concern.
“M’sorry, darlin’. We should stop, ‘m too worked up. Can’t be sweet to ya the way ya like.” His words are husky and rushed but you’re just as rushed to shush him. You’re already working at his belt and pulling him back to the couch.
“I like you in whatever way you’ll have me, baby,” you mumbled against his flesh, kissing down his throat as you pull him down to the cushions. “Take it out on me.”
“What if I’m too rough with ya?” Clyde asks, but his hands are already ripping your shirt over your head and his mouth latches onto your throat, your collar bone, your breast through your bra.
“I want you to be rough with me, Clyde. I’ve wanted you to be rough with me since the moment you walked out and gave that asshole what-for.” You’re pressed down, back against the couch now, with your legs tight around the wide barrel of Clyde’s body.
“Did ya like that, darlin’? Yer Big Bear defending ya?” He’s no longer hesitant in his movements and no longer trying to stop himself. Instead he takes a handful of your ass, pulling your pelvis up off the couch so that your clothed pussy presses fully into his erect and waiting cock. You moan, both at the sensation and at him calling himself Big Bear for the first time. You’d only been dating for a few weeks and things were still new, including shyness around pet names. You’d called him Big Bear the night before in the teasing lead up to some love making and he’d only flushed and stammered in response, busying himself by burying his face between your thighs.
But right now he’s gazing down at your face with an air of intensity and you feel saliva pool in your mouth and wet slick your quivering heat.
“I liked my Big Bear defending me. So strong and big.” You say the last word as you close your hand around his enormous cock through his unzipped jeans. Clyde bucks into your hand and hums from where he’s suckling at the underside of one of your breasts, curved down into you despite your differences in height.
“Nobody else can have ya,” he grumbles before hoisting you higher on the couch so he can position his cock at your entrance. You gasp at the feeling of his member sliding between your folds, getting covered in your waiting slick.
“Nobody. Only you, Big Bear.” Before you can say anything else Clyde has speared into you in one swift motion and taken up an unforgiving pace. There was the aggression he’d been worried about and boy was it rough. You cling to him for dear life as he fucks you into the couch cushions. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw goes slack.
It hurts – he’s much too big to be going this hard this fast – but his grip on you is so tight it melts your aching muscles. The desperation of his thrusts make you hiccup through your inhales and you feel surrounded. Crushed. Filled. All in the best way possible. You love the darling Clyde who coaxes your orgasms with caresses and honeyed words and languid strokes. But this Clyde – this is your Big Bear. His eyes drink in your bouncing breasts as he’s not able to clutch them with the way he has to support his own weight with his good arm. Your back arches deeper from the effects of a particularly deep thrust, bringing your chest up to press against his and he groans.
“This body. No wonder people’re comin’ on to ya, darlin’. This body’s too perfect,” he practically growls, burying his face into your throat. “Maybe I should just keep ya here on my cock. Stay inside ya. Keep me warm and keep ya outta trouble.”
You moan loudly as his dirty words are accentuated by a change in angle that lets him pound into a particularly sweet spot. Your walls pulse around him.
“Oh god. Oh Clyde.”
“Back to callin’ me Clyde already? Am I not bein’ rough enough for ya?” Clyde asks, biting down into the sensitive flesh of your throat. You cry out, hips gyrating against him, legs and walls clamping down around him with an unconscious need to keep him buried deep inside you.
“F-fuck, oh fuck me, Big Bear. I can take it!” you practically whine.
“Yes ya can. So good, takin’ yer Big Bear.” His trusts begin to bottom out harsher, faster. The pressure and the speed have pulled your muscles as taut as they can go and you know you’re seconds from snapping. It was all so sudden. You’re both so worked up, not only from the experience out in the bar, but from the headiness of being this way with one another for the first time. He may be the one pounding into you, but you’re giving as good as you’re getting, rolling your hips up to meet each thrust. Pulling him down into you and raking your fingernails up and down his back.
It’s desperate and needy and possessive – equally so. He is yours and you are his and ownership never tasted so sweet.
Just as you’re about the cum, Clyde seems to sense it and shoves your legs up by the back of the knee, ensuring his next few thrusts rub up against the spot inside you that makes your eyes cross and makes your moans turn into desperate whimpers. You have the vague thought that this proves how well Clyde has come to know your body, what a great student he is of your orgasm, just as said orgasm crashes over you.
You know for sure that the Duck Tape customers heard you. Your belief in your audience becomes even stronger when Clyde lets out a delicious moan as he cums, too, painting your insides with spend made just for you. You’re sweaty and it’s only 7 pm on a Tuesday. Clyde’s going to have to go back to tending bar and you’re going to have to slink out, so clearly ravaged and thoroughly fucked to the likely amusement of a roomful of people who’d been rooting for your coupling. You chuckle to yourself, as Clyde drops the weight of his whole body on you, crushing you. Those people outside definitely got a chance just now to hear your coupling firsthand.
“That…was amazing.” It comes out breathless, as though you’ve just run a marathon. And because you have the mass of a large man pressing you into the couch. When Clyde finally lifts his head from its resting place at your neck he looks sheepish and embarrassed and pleased and winded.
“’M sorry if I was too much for ya, darlin’. Once ya started touchin’ me I couldn’t think straight.”
You silence him with a kiss, grabbing his face to make it deep. When you pull away your smile is ear to ear.
“If you make me feel like that, baby, there’s absolutely nothing to apologize for.”
Clyde moves to pull out of you, his cum now seeping out around his softening cock, but you tighten your legs around him suddenly.
“What happened to staying inside me, mister?” you tease.
Clyde stands abruptly, pulling you up with him still seated in your dripping cunt. Your gasp and scramble to hold onto him. He takes a few playful steps towards the door and you swat at him.
“No, I think yer right, darlin’. What better way tuh make cocktails than with my lil cockwarmer?”
~*~
Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @emeraldsiren20 @maryforyou @aloneandsleepless @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @leather-flannel-liquor @soggywhore
#anon#request#Clyde Logan x reader#Clyde Logan x you#Clyde Logan/reader#Clyde Logan/you#Clyde Logan smut#clyde logan fanfiction#Logan Lucky fanfiction#Logan Lucky smut#Out of Trouble#smut#writing#roanniom
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Inheritance
Knitting may be a less physically painful hobby than sewing, Lily thought bitterly as she unraveled her work for the third time in an hour, but it was no less frustrating. True, her fingers bled less while knitting than they did during her needlepoint phase. She’d jabbed herself more times than she could count last time she tried to embroidered a sad-looking flower onto the corner of her least favorite pillowcase. No, knitting certainly yielded less bloodshed than sewing, but it didn’t come without a price.
“Ouch!” Lily cried as she poked her humungous stomach once again with the end of the long, metal knitting needle. She could never get used to her belly, which seemed to swell more and more every day. “Damn- stupid-” She growled with frustration, crumpled up the ruined baby jumper, and hurled the bundle of yarn and needles across the room.
Lily watched the bundle soar through the air as her chest heaved slightly from her outburst. She rubbed absentmindedly at the spot where she’d impaled herself on the needle. Couldn’t break the skin, she reminded herself, but she still bruised like a peach. Little purple bruises all over your stomach weren’t typically a comforting sight in the ninth month of pregnancy.
Eight months. She shuddered a bit at the thought. Eight months of being sick, of stretching and expanding, of reminding herself that she was not a selfish cow for bringing a child into the world in the middle of a war.
For bringing this child into the world.
She groaned as she leaned forward to brace herself to stand. With a huge effort, she was able to push to her feet and shuffle over to retrieve her knitting. Won’t be long now, she thought to herself as she settled back into her spot on the couch to finish her work, stop messing around and get this done before he gets here or you'll never finish.
He.
Her heart sunk at the thought. It had been difficult to hide her disappointment when she’d heard her baby was male. She remembered how James had smiled softly at the scan and squeezed her hand. “A boy,” he’d whispered to her, “a little boy.”
She’d smiled and squeezed his hand right back. A boy.
Lily remembered the moment perfectly, how she’d fallen deep into that all-consuming fog. It was official, at least part of the prophecy was true after all. A boy, born at the end of July...
Three days. That’s all she needed. Three days until the sticky summer days of August. She would distract herself with this horrid jumper for three whole days, and then the baby could come whenever he pleased.
“Having fun?”
Lily jumped in surprise, causing her once again to drop a stitch. “Git,” she grumbled as she squinted down at the yarn, trying desperately to recover her mistake, “can’t you make a noise once in a while? You’ll startle me into early labor.”
James grinned and hopped over the back of the couch, landing next to her with a soft thwump.
“Whatcha got there? Is it a…” he regarded her lumpy, misshapen jumper, “a bib?”
“Very funny,” she snapped, refusing to look at him as she knitted, then purled, then knitted again.
“I’m sorry,” he grinned, clearly trying not to laugh, “I know it’s a jumper. Why the mad rush to finish, anyway?”
“I want it to be ready in time,” she said through teeth gritted in concentration, “he’s going to be here soon.”
“Right.”
Lily waited. She’d known James long enough to know when he was holding back. She turned her head slowly and fixed him with a glare. “What? Go on, spit it out.”
James had long grown used to Lily’s hormonal bitchiness. Nevertheless, he looked unsure of how to proceed without getting his head ripped off. “Well,” he sighed, eyeing the jumper hesitantly, “it’s just that, the jumper’s a bit small, don’t you think? I mean, won’t he be a bit big by the time it’s cold enough outside to wear?”
Lily felt the heat rise in her cheeks. This was absolutely the last thing she needed to hear right now. “I don’t think so. He’s a baby, how big can they be?”
“Well,” James said carefully, “let’s see. It’ll get chilly enough for jumpers by, I dunno, October? So he’ll be three months? He might have some meat on him by then if he’s anything like me when I was a baby.”
“No,” Lily shook her head and returned to her work. Knit. Purl. Knit. Purl. Purl again. “He’d be two months. Two.”
James sighed. “Lil-”
“If he’s born in August he’ll be two months in October.”
“We have to be prepared for the wo-”
“No.” Lily said the word quietly, but with a danger she hadn’t realized she possessed.
James held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. Ignore me. I didn’t mean-”
“He’ll be tiny,” Lily said into her hands. Knit. Purl. Dropped stitch. Damn. “Tiny enough to fit into this sweater. And he’ll be perfect. And safe and healthy and loved.” Another stitch dropped. It was getting hard to see her work through her tears.
“Lily,” James said softly as he reached for her hands. He brought the needles slowly down from her face and tucked his hand over hers in her lap. “Let’s take a break for a moment, alright?”
She nodded. She could have wrestled her hand from under his to wipe the tears from her cheek, but she let them fall freely. James wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled him into her chest.
They stayed that way for a while, Lily crying silently into James’ chest. After a while, she became aware of his own warm tears on her hair. She wondered dully if he was thinking what she was thinking. What have we done?
“Why the knitting?” James murmured as he ran a hand up and down her arm comfortingly, “why the rush?”
Lily sniffed. She hadn’t expected the question, and she suddenly found she didn’t have an answer. Knitting just seemed like a thing to do for your baby. “I just want him to have something of mine. Something to...remember me by.”
It was a mark of the bond between them that James did not protest at her words. He knew more than anyone how their stories could end. How little time they might have with their son.
“He’s going to love it. But you know,” James nudged her chin gently with his forefinger so that she looked up into his face. His cheeks were still blotchy from his tears, but a real smile shone on his lips. “You know he’s going to have your eyes. How could he not? That’s something he could never get from anyone else.”
Lily smiled too. She tried to picture her own green eyes looking back up at her from a bundle of blankets in her arms. Her eyes, maybe James’ hair. It was a lovely picture.
“Three days,” she leaned up and kissed James gently on the lips, “let’s get through the next three days. We’ll have plenty to worry about when he arrives and I won’t have time to finish this stupid jumper.”
James laughed. He stood from the couch, stretching his arms above his head as he went. “He’s going to love the sweater, Lil. Who knows, maybe he’ll give it to his own baby someday.”
“Oh, god,” Lily murmured as she resumed her work with a renewed intensity, “don’t say that. He’ll need something nicer than this for his own kids, this one’s shite.”
---
“I can’t believe you didn’t let me at the baby boxes first,” Ginny grumbled as she poured through a trunk of useless artifacts from her and her brothers’ infancies. A torn sweater here, a lone bootie there. A Babbity Rabbity book that was so worn from years of use that it tore at the binding. Ten years and seven children later, even the hardiest hand-me-downs could fall apart. “Bill got all the good stuff for Vic.”
“Well, dear,” her mother sighed as she levitated yet another trunk onto the kitchen table, “he was the first in the family to have children, after all.”
“It’s not like Fluer lets her kids wear any of our old jumpers,” Ginny muttered bitterly, “it isn’t from Paris, so of course it’s all rubbish.”
“What about this, Ginny?” Hermione called from her spot across the table. She’d spotted a dusty, but beautiful, mobile made up of stars and whirling planets folded up in the corner of a trunk. Small silver chimes hung from the top of the mobile which could almost certainly be charmed to play softly as the baby slept below. “This is lovely, isn’t it?”
Ginny, despite her determination to be a grumpy, hormone-filled nightmare today, eyed the mobile with interest. “It is nice.”
“Hmm,” her mother hummed as she dug through a bag of old baby socks, looking for a matching pair, “I suppose I didn’t let all the good stuff go to your brother after all, then?”
Ginny huffed as she accepted the mobile from Hermione and gingerly placed it into her bag. “Fine. Maybe not. But he’s still always been your favorite child.”
“What about me, then?” Ron called as he strode into the room, Harry at his side.
Ginny threw a faded plush snitch at his head, which he caught easily. “Not you, git. Bill.”
“Oh, true,” Ron shrugged as he leaned down to kiss Hermione on the cheek. By the time they got married and had kids of their own, Ginny thought savagely, there would surely be nothing usable left in the trunks. This was her only consolation.
“Gin, it’s alright. We don’t need anything from here,” Harry said reasonably as he peered into the trunk with interest. “Of course, Molly, it’s all lovely. But we’re buying loads of stuff for the baby, he’ll be just fine.”
“But still!” Ginny protested as she dug further into the trunk, “I want the memories, you know? I want to pass something down to my kids. Something like...like this.”
At the very bottom of the trunk lay a tiny, perfectly folded Gryffindor jumper. No years of wear-and-tear, no moth holes or loose strings hanging from the sleeves. Her mother had even added a tiny lion to the front in perfect golden stitches against the crimson background. Ginny pulled the jumper gingerly from the trunk and ran the tips of her fingers along the ridiculously soft wool.
“Oh, Molly,” Hermione murmured in awe as she stared at the jumper in Ginny’s hands. “It’s beautiful.”
Her mother smiled softly. “I knit that jumper when I was pregnant with you, Ginny.” Her voice had grown hoarse, as if she was trying her best to keep the emotion at bay. “I wanted you to have something of your very own. You only wore it a few times before you got too big. It was silly, really, to spend so much time making something that you’d grow right out of, but I couldn’t help it.”
“No wonder we were all in Gryffindor,” Ron grinned, as he eyed the jumper, “you and dad have been priming us since birth.”
“Oh, hush,” her mother snapped at Ron, “you know we didn’t care, not really. After all, I was almost sure Percy would be in Ravenclaw when he first went to school, but then-”
“Harry?”
Hermione’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it stopped mum’s story at once.
Harry’s eyes were on the jumper in her hands, and they were wet. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared at the bundle of red and gold. He didn’t give any indication that he’d heard Hermione say his name.
Ginny felt her heart sink into her stomach. “Harry, what’s wrong?”
“What?” Harry shook himself a bit as if coming out of a dream. He glanced around at all the eyes fixed on him. “Oh, sorry. I just thought- never mind. Being silly.” He ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, his chest still heaving slightly. The legs of his chair scraped loudly across the kitchen floor as he stood suddenly.
“Got to get some fresh air, excuse me,” and Harry practically bolted through the kitchen and through the back door.
Her mother gazed sadly after him. “Oh dear, I should have thought before bringing all this out. I hope he’s not too upset.”
“It’s alright mum,” Ginny patted her mother’s arm gently, “he’ll be fine. I’ll go talk to him.”
Ginny crossed over to the back door and eased her way through it. How on earth had her mother, a woman who had been pregnant at least seven times, been able to live in a house with such tiny doorways? She waddled down the porch and into the back garden towards her husband’s form.
It was difficult to see him in the early evening light, but she did not like the look of the way his shoulders slumped forward where he stood.
“Hey,” she breathed as she reached Harry. She could tell he’d been crying by the way his breath caught in his throat with each inhale. The sound made her feel faintly sick. “What happened in there?”
Harry shook his head sharply. “Nothing. Being stupid, that’s all.”
“It’s not stupid,” she took his hand in hers and gripped it tight. “Having a baby is scary. I get it. I don’t have any less faith in you for being scared.”
“It’s not that,” he whipped around to look at her, his eyes alight with adrenaline. “I’m not scared. I’m going to protect our baby with every breath I have left in me, I promise you that, Ginny.”
She smiled patted his hand gently. He had these moments every now and then, the wild sense of panic that always preceded a fight. She couldn’t blame him exactly, given everything he’d lost, but she was worried for him. “I know you will. I will, too.”
Harry nodded vigorously and turned back to the garden. She could feel his body relaxing slightly, could sense some of the panic recede from his muscles and release through his exhale.
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” Harry breathed as he brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, “it was that damned tiny jumper. It was unnaturally small. I don’t remember Teddy being that small, do you?”
Ginny laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. The sun was really setting now, casting the entire yard in a soft orange glow. Somewhere in the distance, a family of gnomes grumbled to each other as they dug through her mother’s tomato patch. “He was never that small, though I suppose Teddy was a bit of a fat baby.”
Harry snorted. “I’m telling him you said that.”
“Don’t!” Ginny swatted at him playfully, “don’t you dare!”
He just laughed again and pulled her close against his chest, the back of her head resting comfortably against him.
“It is nice, though,” he sighed, “the idea of passing something down to your kids. Giving them a little part of you. I wish I’d had more of my parents’ things.”
Ginny nodded slowly. She couldn’t imagine a childhood without hand-me-downs. A little bit of history in every toy, every piece of clothing. “Perhaps we can make up for it. Create some new traditions.”
“Yeah?” She could hear him grinning through the word. “How would we do that?”
Ginny sighed, a little horrified with herself at what she was about to say.
“Well, we could always ask my mother to give us knitting lessons.”
Really. Married, pregnant, and finally letting her mother teach her to knit after years of protestation. What had her life come to?
#nina writes#oh look!#another hurt/comfort parallel jily and hinny drabble#I've certainly never done THAT before#I'm too lazy to post on ao3 tonight so if you don't like reading on tumblr#please read it anyway lmao
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