#so that’s hanging over missile’s head!

[inamindfarfaraway]

Team Chaotix in Sonic Prime

My headcanons for what Vector the Crocodile, Espio the Chameleon and Charmy Bee are like in the Shatterspaces.

New Yoke City

Vector’s variant is called Missile (a missile is a vector, having direction and magnitude). He embodies Vector’s responsibility, practicality and seriousness. He was trying to make a difference as a teenage detective when the dystopian city appeared around him four years ago and it became clear that, with the Chaos Council’s control of the new justice system and law enforcement, the person he aspired to be would never make it. Of course he wants to fight, but the Council is brutal and their absolute power seems impossible to overthrow. He soon ended up with two children in his care, one only a toddler. If he got arrested, killed or roboticized, what would happen to them? If the three of them had the Council’s protection, on the other hand, as per the contract of an exclusive, specialized detective agency who would do whatever dirty work they were ordered to… he knows that those tyrants are the reason his kids have nobody else. He knows that the vast majority of people he leads the robotic police to don’t deserve any punishment, and none of them could deserve the cruel horrors they get. He knows that he isn’t a hero - that he may even be the exact opposite. And he hates it. But any money that keeps his family alive is money worth having, he’s regretfully decided. Big concepts like good and evil are none of his concern. He’s just trying to pay the rent. It’s too late to back out now, anyway. Now that the people are rebelling en masse and the Council is busy exploring the Shatterverse, he’s desperately waiting for things to stabilize and daring to hope against hope that some positive change occurs. And that the citizens don’t recognize the collaborateurs in their midst and turn on them.

Espio’s variant is called Trace. He embodies Espio’s stoicism and pragmatism. His ninja training was cut short - and his village razed and everyone he knew killed or taken prisoner - when the Chaos Council remade the world in their image. But he’s gained plenty of experience in stealth, deception, infiltration, espionage and combat working in the Chaos Detective Agency. Dishonour means nothing to a ninja. That’s what he tells himself, at least. On the outside, he’s reserved and aloof, a cold, ruthless foe. He will only show his family the slightest show of emotion. Internally, however, his repressed grief for his old family, community, home and life; guilt, shame and self-loathing due to his service to the Council; and years of accumulated trauma are brewing into a storm that he barely keeps contained under the surface. He’s afraid of his feelings burdening his teammates and distracting them from what’s most important: survival.

Charmy’s variant is called Sting. He embodies Charmy’s eagerness to be helpful and fighting spirit. He can’t remember anything except New Yoke and doesn’t understand much of how his society works, but he knows that his family’s work is very important to them being alive and wants to be a part of it. He does notice their stress and the general unpleasantness everywhere and can infer that circumstances could be improved. But their work being dangerous is all the more reason he should help! Teamwork makes the dream work, right? Danger just adds to the fun of stopping ‘bad guys’. He’s also terrified that if they leave him behind, they might not come back. So he kept breaking out and running away when Missile and Trace went on missions until they agreed to train him and let him join them. He revels in the thrill of action and finds people getting hurt amusing the way a six-year-old boy can, not emotionally connecting to anyone he’s told they need to catch and earnestly believing that their enemies must be in the wrong. He often imitates Missile when trying to be tough and intimidating.

Boscage Maze

Vector’s variant is called Reed. He embodies Vector’s optimism, lightheartedness and musical side, and tends to have his coarser manners too. He, the other two and Cream and Vanilla’s variants are in a different small tribe to the Scavengers and haven’t yet met them, so Thorn Rose didn’t banish them to the emergent layer; they are nomadic and moving toward the Scavengers’ territory. He’s cheerful and generous, always ready to raise the tribe’s morale. He can be immature and irresponsible at times, more focused on enjoying life and entertaining his companions than applying maximum effort to practical tasks. He’s highly resourceful when it comes to instruments and has invented drums and a reed flute. He loves to play them and sing. He’s also bold enough to flirt with Vanilla and the casual first stage of a romance is budding between them.

Espio’s variant is called Berry. He embodies Espio’s caution, wisdom and love of art and culture. Yes, that’s in this dimension. The tribe took him in after they crossed paths when he was eight, him having previously had to survive on his own for as long as he can remember. He’s mature beyond his years, highly knowledgeable about the forest’s flora and fauna, wary and prepared to defend his tribe from any threat using his carved flint blades and hand-to-hand skills. He used to find it difficult to relax, but has learned to unwind through playing a shamisen-esque string instrument Reed built for him and painting with plant pigments. While acutely aware of nature’s hazards, he can still appreciate its wonder and majesty and respects it.

Charmy’s variant is called Honey. He embodies Charmy’s innocent kindness, friendliness and trusting nature. He and Cream’s variant are best friends and adoptive siblings, since his parents entrusted their friend Vanilla with him when they left on an exploratory expedition in his infancy. They didn’t return. But Honey doesn’t mind. He has everything he needs right here. The one thing he can think of that would make his life better is a friend who can fly like he can.

No Place

Vector’s variant is called Bullion (because of precious metal and a male crocodile is a bull). He embodies Vector’s sharp intelligence, charisma, greed and courage. He left his home island in a modest but sturdy vessel, dubbed the Treasure Trove, to seek his fortune and established himself as a travelling merchant. Cunning, socially savvy and theatrical, he is willing to (if you insist on using such accusatory language) ‘scam’ customers and has an endless supply of get-rich-quick schemes. He and his crew live in a fiercely competitive, unpredictable environment full of pirates! Material wealth is essential! That being said, he isn’t all talk. He will brave high seas and stormy weather, chart uncharted waters and do business with anyone to obtain the best goods and things no other merchant is selling, and the genuine quality and rarity of a lot of his stock keep people endeared to him despite his rough edges and occasional bad deal. He takes pride in his competence as a salesman and seafarer and part of him is more fulfilled by honest work. Not that he’ll admit that. He’s very attached to his swashbuckling rogue self-image.

Espio’s variant is called Fathom (a measure of water depth and a verb for contemplative thought and understanding). He embodies Espio’s firm sense of morality and diligence. He met Bullion when the crocodile docked at his home island and, struck with wanderlust and needing a job to get by, Fathom offered to manage his finances with his advanced mathematical ability and do some manual labour. Bullion agreed, but it didn’t take Fathom long to figure out that he was both running a con and a broke mess. A weirdly likeable broke mess. In the aftermath of Fathom exposing the con, the customers angrily demanding refunds and the Treasure Trove being hastily undocked, they made a deal to support and protect each other, with Fathom promising to follow his boss’s lead on the strict condition that Bullion stayed on the straight and narrow. He’s a dutiful hard worker, patient and polite. He tries to remain calm and be civil to everyone no matter how wild things get. He grounds his crewmates, restraining their more energetic, eccentric and, most frustratingly for him, selfish and amoral behaviour. He knows they can be better. And when they are, it’s extremely rewarding. But they certainly test him - though he won’t deny that the motley crew all truly care about each other and would stick together through anything.

Charmy’s variant is called Dodger. He embodies Charmy’s mischievous, irreverent side. He was born to pirates and left at an orphanage on one of the larger islands, but could never follow rules or be satisfied with a simple, mundane life in one place. He wanted excitement, and usually made his own by causing trouble and playing tricks. He totally wasn’t lonely. One day he stowed away on a ship. His plan was to steal all the stuff he could carry on him and fly off. Bullion and Fathom, the sailors who caught him, took a liking to him and were hesitant to send him back to his boring, miserable old home once he explained his life before. They were nice and cool and made him feel wanted and like he belonged more than anyone else ever had, so he hung around. Bullion makes him do chores, but respects his pranking prowess and nerve. Fathom is a great listener and playmate, albeit sometimes a killjoy.

#thought process for new yoke: #what if i made their ‘just trying to pay the rent’ motivation and vector’s apparent guardianship of two kids really dark and tragic #in an examination of how good people can be twisted by factors beyond their control? #thought process for boscage maze: #what if they were all fine and happy and chill actually? #thought process for no place: workplace/domestic sitcom hijinks ON THE HIGH SEAS #the nyc trio’s contract definitely has fine print that the council can roboticize them if they disobey any order or something #so that’s hanging over missile’s head! #them finally rebelling is going to be EPIC though #sting really wants to call missions ‘sting operations’ after himself without understanding what that means #bullion has big stan pines energy #like stan pines in his twenties career (with fathom exasperatedly shutting down the dishonest elements) #combined with his dream of sailing around going on adventures #fathom: business offer. i receive: FAIRLY earned wages. you receive: help getting your shit together #berry and fathom are the voices of reason in their trios like canon espio #but trace is NOT #firstly because missile is reasonable enough #but more importantly because trace is one more emotional straw away from a complete breakdown #which could be either sobbing himself into dehydration or a no-holds-barred rampage against the council #like. he’s ‘the calm one’ the way kit the fucking fennec is ‘the calm one’: NOT CALM #i could have just made a vector variant greedy to the point of evil #but i choose to believe that every part of vector fundamentally cares about his whatever versions of espio and charmy are present #they’re a three-pack - do not separate #plus that’s been done with knuckles the dread #and especially since they’re in the same dimension i wanted bullion and dread to be different #sonic prime #team chaotix #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #charmy bee

[gretagerwigsmuse]

i don’t know, blame the air force?

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

a/n: listen….this is very self indulgent and that’s all i’m going to say. i literally wrote it this afternoon after…well i got fucked by the government in the form of taxes on my bonus. also yeah she’s kind of a brat in this one, but i think it’s a little deserved. rated t for language and suggestive comments 1.2k

It wasn’t often that you beat Bradley home from work, but sometimes on Fridays you would sneak out of the office at lunch and work the rest of the day from home. It typically put you in a good mood and gave you the opportunity to run a quick load of laundry or get started on an - admittedly - rudimentary dinner. Sometimes you’d even go for a dip in your building’s skyline pool.

But that afternoon, you were seething. Properly seething. And no amount of stress cleaning or tanning was going to make you feel any better. Maybe you just needed Bradley to fuck you six ways to Sunday later? Surely the serotonin from a couple orgasms could soothe this particular anger brewing inside of you.

As per every October, you had gotten your year end bonus with your paycheck earlier that day, which always inspired equal amounts of giddiness and angst within you.

The giddiness, of course, because who doesn’t love extra money? It was like found money twice a year. Sure, you worked extra hard for it, many late nights at the office, client site visits, and presentations over the last four years could attest to that. You were up in the air over whether you should add it to your brokerage account or splurge on something? Because again - you worked for it.

But then there was the angst.

The angst because you inevitably lost half of it to taxes. And this angst appeared like clockwork, twice a year, every year, for the last six years you’d been working at PwC. You knew this - it was inevitable.

Except, earlier that morning, you’d been at your desk reading the WSJ with your coffee and had seen a headline. A stupid, annoying headline that had made you purse your lips, realization dawning as you rushed to check your pay stub on workday.

Pentagon Refocuses Spending on Weapons to Deter China

As you read further, you saw that as part of the FY24 budget, the Pentagon was increasing the $30.6B defense budget a further 12% with a focus on missiles, rockets, and - yes - airplanes, specifically for the Air Force.

Uncle Sam was taking 35% of taxes out of your bonus for that? Fuck that.

So, when Bradley came by your apartment later that afternoon, freshly showered after a quick trip to the gym after work, you were steaming. And though it was not Bradley’s fault - not in the slightest - seeing him in that stupid(ly tight), grey, US Navy t-shirt only further contributed to your sour mood.

“Hey!” he called out, letting himself in with his key. You turned your head towards him and hummed, letting out a gruff hi. He toed off his sneakers and left them by the door before coming over to where you were laying on the couch, doom scrolling through Instagram, and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

He frowned at your tepid response and you felt like a absolute bitch for a moment. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You briefly glanced at Bradley and then went back to staring - glaring - at your phone. “I’m just in a mood - tired.”

You could see him doing the mental math, trying to figure out if you were on your period, but that wasn’t until next week. “S’okay. We can just hang out and have an early -”

“- Crash any planes today?” the words slipped out before you could think better of it. Before he could even respond, you cut Bradley off. “What’s it matter anyway? They’ll just buy you new ones? Fuck the kids, I mean, they don’t need to eat school lunch? And the Postal Service can cut off Saturday delivery? Hmmmm maybe we should cut Social Security even more? Our infrastructure doesn’t need to be fixed, let’s just let our bridges and roads crumble! Fucking taxes bullshit.”

“Uhhh...”

You got up in a huff and started pacing, getting more and more worked up. “It’s not that I mind paying taxes - well, that’s not totally true. But like? Actually put them towards something that’s going to help people? Not just stupid rockets and missiles and fucking -”

“- Did you get your tax refund or something?”

Bradley was standing next to you, trying to put his hands on your shoulders in what would have been a calming motion had you not been acting completely crazy over eleven thousand dollars.

“It’s October?” you snapped.

“I don’t know?” Bradley shrugged his shoulders, getting a little worked up himself. “Rich people are weird? And your dad seems like he’d know how - nevermind.” You rolled your eyes. “What happened?”

Your shoulders sagged. Fuck, this wasn’t Bradley’s fault. It was that piece of shit House Majority Leader’s, who was so far up Lockheed Martin’s ass he could see -

“I got my year end bonus check today…” you grumbled.

Like you figured, a huge smile lit up Bradley’s face. “That’s amazing - or not?” he backtracked.

“I lost like 35% of it to taxes.”

“Ahhh.”

“And I saw this article in the Journal this morning about the new Pentagon budget and how they’re purchasing these new planes for the Air Force and it just - it’s dumb but it made me mad because I just wish my taxes went to the things that will actually benefit the average American?”

Bradley tucked your hair behind your ear and clucked your chin. “That’s a lot to put on your shoulders, kid…”

“Do you think I’m acting like a brat?” You knew you were, you were just curious if Bradley would say the same thing.

He made a face. “Well,” the word dragged out, “maybe a little…” You hung your head and leaned against his chest. “But it’s kind of valid, I’d be pretty pissed losing all that out to the Air Force, too. But the Navy’s different. They don’t just put anyone in the cockpit -”

“- Oh, really?” You peered up at him. “And how many planes have you crashed, Bradley?”

He pursed his lips. “Like on purpose or -”

You threw your hands up and groaned, eventually making your way over to your bar cart. “- Like on purpose he says! Bradley!”

There wasn’t any ice in the ice bucket, but you didn’t care. You needed something. Anything to take the edge off. You were too annoyed, too fussy - too bratty.

As you poured yourself - and Bradley - a drink, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “I promise you, I have only crashed three planes on purpose.”

Oh how you wanted to laugh. You leaned back against Bradley’s chest, fully ensconced in the smell of his soap and aftershave. “Hmmm, that’s $195M down the drain. Could’ve fed a lot of kids in Kern County with that money, repaved a lot of roads, too…”

He grabbed the drink you had poured for yourself and took a sip, hissing at the burn of the tequila. “I don’t know about the kids, but I can make it up to you.”

The glass was placed back on the bar cart with a clink and Bradley placed his right hand on your hip, while the left slipped underneath the waistband of your skirt and eventually your underwear. Your whole body sagged against him and you hated how keen you were for this - for him. Apparently you really had just needed to get fucked.

“Such a pretty girl…even if you are a bit of a brat sometimes,” he finished, nipping at your ear. “Hey, kid?” You hummed. “You know if I was an astronaut I would cost the US government even more money, you still sure you want me to go down that route?”

“Shut up and fuck me, rocketman.”

“Can do, hell I’ll even buy you dinner.”

-----------

this was so random so i hope people actually like it??? idk if no one does i never wrote it??

small taglist: @howdysebby (happy early birthday!) @sometimesanalice (thanks for the eyes alexa!) @notroosterbradshaw @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @jupitercomet @sunderlust @softspiderling @seasonsbloom @heartsofminds @cloudycluster

#bradley and smart aleck #bradley bradshaw x reader

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 4 ⬅ch. 3

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. forced proximity. blood, war, and death. wc 5.3k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | this one was fun to write!! it's a bit longer than previous chapters too. thank you for all the messages and ideas for this fic, i hope i do it justice! and as usual, feedback is appreciated <3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

...al mazrah…

you sat trembling on board the razor-1, your bag tucked between your legs, wedged nervously between two insanely muscled marines that made you feel minuscule in comparison. ghost stood as the aircraft began to land and soap gave you a reassuring look from across the terminal. 

you undid your seatbelt and you felt your fingertips vibrate as they clung to your tactical vest, all of your adrenaline was starting to make you feel sick. 

“this is capture or kill,” soap had said to you. “but we need him alive.”

“that’s where i come in,” you mumbled under your breath. 

soap nudged you on the shoulder. “don’t worry so much. you’ll hang back while we infiltrate the base hassan is camped up in. then you can swoop in to save the day when i have him bleeding out on the floor.” you rolled your eyes at soap’s confidence. “easy.”

“right,” you mocked, trying to hide the terror that was slowly seeping into your bones. 

ghost began rambling off orders, the aircraft shaking as it made contact with the ground, and you tried to instill it in your brain that you had nothing to be so fearful about; this was just another mission for the guys. they did things like this all the time for the sake of their country. but the fact that you had never been on the frontline before kept niggling your mind. you began to wonder if you were really made for this kind of shit.

it wasn’t that long ago you had wanted nothing more than to join the military to help wounded soldiers when you realized you had nothing left for you back home. after your friend died in combat, an injury that could have been mended if they had enough medics in their arsenal, you decided to put on a brave face and save soldiers just like him. regardless of what you thought about war, you wanted to be a medic, meaning neutral ground. you were there to mend the fallen, it didn’t matter to you what side they were on.

and as much as you didn’t like to brag or be filled with a sense of pride–it always made you uncomfortable–it was just a technicality to say you were at the top of your class. the best of the best , as price had said. 

“keep up,” ghost grunted to you as he turned to exit the craft, walking down the ramp. you shook yourself out of your head-pounding thoughts and quickly followed the group of men out of the ship, leaving team alpha behind. 

you stumbled onto the ground, the strays of your hair that stuck out from under your beanie beneath your helmet fluttered in the wind as the ship took off to take team alpha downrange. 

“razor-1, all bravo deployed. moving to secondary hlz,” the pilot said over the comms for everyone to hear. 

your eyes locked onto soap’s, his gun at the ready. he nodded his head, urging you to follow him. you both made your descent with the rest of bravo, willing your hands not to shake as you held your gun up, your night vision goggles set over your eyes.

“all stations- razor-1 is bracketed, we’re getting lit!” the pilot’s anxious voice echoed in your ears. “incoming- flares! flares!”

you watched as the horizon lit up in front of you, hustling to stay beside soap. 

“shit that was close!” another voice spoke. 

and then, an urgent “second missile!”

you tensed, scurrying after the group of men who crept down the small incline. things were picking up fast. you had barely been out of the ship–it was certainly less than two minutes–and explosions and gunfire were already filling the air.

“oh fuck…!”

“razor-1 going down! we’re going down!”

your teeth clenched as you switched into a run, all your gear slowing you down and making you huff your breaths. 

“stay close!” you heard soap yell in your ear. 

you nodded even though you knew he couldn’t see you. the smell of ash began to fill your senses.

“hold up,” ghost commanded. the team stopped, a small explosion erupting at the bottom of the hill where building 1 was located.

“alpha, what’s your status?”

coughing and wheezing breaths harrowingly echoed on the comms. 

“alpha, how copy…?” ghost said with a bit more urgency. 

“bravo- alpha is immoblie. multiple critical!” a brief pause sounded between the man’s reply. “oh, shit! we’re taking effective fire!”

you clenched your gun. what if you, or soap, or ghost had been assigned alpha? you sucked in a breath of air and tried to calm your racing heart. 

“alpha, we’re moving to building 1. hold tight.” ghost’s voice was so smooth as he spoke like this type of shit was a regular occurrence to him. the same candace as someone who was greeting a friend in a coffee shop. his nonchalance sent shivers up your spine. 

“ghost, we need to secure that crash site now,” soap spoke.

“first, we clear for hassan, that takes the heat off alpha. then we secure the crash site. clear?”

“roger that.”

“let’s move.”

ghost, hustling towards the rocky house, swept into your line of sight. soap turned his head and when he saw you were close behind him, he took off after ghost. 

“force up to the house.” ghost whispered. 

you stumbled over the uneven terrain, the weight of all your gear and the obstruction the goggles caused was making it difficult to see. 

the sound of shuffling pants, boots crunching the pebbled earth, and the slight hum of machinery was the only sound in your ears when no one was speaking. you felt your chest tighten with nerves. 

suddenly, with your body realizing the height of the situation, you began to steady. you were good under pressure. exceptionally good. this is why you were here , you told yourself. you could do this .

you heard an enemy soldier shouting something in the distance that you couldn’t quite make out–he must have been speaking arabic.

the group rounded up outside the house and ghost scaled the edge of the building. a man handed him a sledgehammer. “breacher up,” he said faintly before he slammed it into the wooden door. you felt a chill catch along the hairs of your arms as he broke open the door in one swift motion, you could see his muscles taut even through his thick layers of clothes. 

“sweep through,” ghost called. soap was at the doorway and began shooting.

you tried to pay attention to your surroundings as you waited for soap and ghost to clear the way. the blazing fire in the distance sent eerie shadows along the buildings and barren trees. 

“first deck clear! negative on hassan,” a bravo said. 

another replied, “copy that, second deck’s clear!”

“rog,” ghost grunted. 

you slipped into the building behind the men, watching as they scanned their surroundings and made themselves safe behind barriers. 

“contact! building 2!” a voice shouted. 

you stumbled back against a storage cabinet as gunfire ricocheted off the walls. 

“they know we’re here!” ghost shouted. in a startling motion, he turned to you, spying you immediately as you shifted your weight. “stay down!”

you nodded and huddled behind a workbench. the men began shooting rounds at the men in building 2. the sharp metallic clank of a bullet hitting a metal desk off to your right made you jump, the shell clinking on the floor like a fallen coin. you felt your eyes widen slightly. 

“all bravo, move on building 2!” ghost stated, his voice a welcoming sound through your headset. you tried to focus on his voice instead of the shouts of men and blasting echoes of weapons.

ghost and someone from alpha spoke to each other as the men started their way towards building 2. soap appeared beside you and helped you up. “you alright, lass?”

you nodded, “m’good.” you brushed yourself off and followed soap as he led you out of the building and towards another that was roughly 100 feet before your squad. you could see ghost already approaching the second building, his feet shuffling as he stayed out of the line of sight of the open doorway. 

shouts in arabic made you stagger as you walked. gunshots in the distance followed by the occasional explosion filled the otherwise gorgeous night. you slid your goggles up and glanced at the starry sky. if it wasn’t for the bloodshed unfolding before you, you could easily see yourself laying out on one of these hills, the cool night air ruffling your hair as you watched the stars–they were so bright without all the light pollution.

soap slid up to one of the open doors and motioned for you to huddle beside another fellow sergeant. soap was bundled in his uniform, his sleeves rolled up, and his night vision goggles on–same as you. you wondered if you looked as intimidating as he did. 

“prep for breach,” ghost said. 

“7-1 moving interior,” soap responded. 

he quickly shot down three enemy soldiers before disappearing inside the building. you followed in pursuit, your heart hurting as you saw slouched bodies pool with blood, even if you knew they were the enemy. you hurried after soap and caught a glimpse of ghost using his knife to slice into a man with barely any effort. blood began to coat his gloves. 

you crept behind soap as he slowly moved up the stairs to the second floor. gunshots repeatedly fired in front of the two of you. 

“i’m hit!” a bravo shouted. 

you dashed up the stairs but soap pulled you back before you reached the top, gripping your utility vest to bring you into him. “hey! wait till i clear it!” 

“okay, then hurry up!” you huffed as soap went ahead of you and leaned around the corner, taking out the men in the other room. 

you used that time to scurry off behind him and out onto the terrace where the injured soldier had crawled in order to get out of firing range. 

you crouched beside him and slung your bag off your shoulder. “here,” you said as you pressed a cloth to his bullet wound. “hold pressure!”

a loud shotgun in the next room made you jump. you turned to look, your hands deep in your bag. you spotted soap and let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn’t him at the end of the barrel. 

you heard soap’s footsteps return out onto the deck. “one’s in the hallway,” the soldier said to soap. 

you worked deftly to pack and wrap the wound as soap slid off down the hall and you heard a strangled cry as he knifed someone. 

“ghost, enemy rockets down,” soap said in your ear. 

“thanks,” the man before you mumbled as his hand replaced yours where he began to hold the bandage. you heard soap speaking in the next room.

“the house is clear. time to go,” ghost muttered in your ear. 

“it just grazed you,” you said to the sergeant. “you should be alright as long as we limit the bleeding.”

soap appeared beside you moments later, helping the man up as he limped. “you good to walk?” 

the man nodded. 

“all bravo circle up outside,” ghost commanded. 

“let’s go,” soap said down to you. 

you ran after soap down the steps and out into the field. you spotted the crash site not too far ahead and you felt your ears ring seeing the formidable tower of flames in the backdrop.

it didn’t take long to approach the ship and you followed soap and ghost as they entered the terminal.

“we got five k.i.a., one wounded. it’s just my gun and i’m low on ammo.” 

you slid past soap and rushed to the man on the ground. the sergeant was knocked out cold and you quickly tried to make a mental note of his vitals. you tried to remember his name, but with everything that was occupying your brain right now, it eluded you.

you knew the others were talking, but you didn’t hear them as you honed in on the man bleeding out before you. 

“get your gun on that tree line,” you finally deciphered through your hazy thoughts as ghost spoke.

you looked over your shoulder as loud explosions went off and shook the craft. 

“fuck, man! fuck,” the alpha said. 

“you called it, lt.!” soap said as he aimed his gun out the ship’s window. 

as you bandaged the man, ghost and soap began firing rapidly. 

“they’re getting close. secure the ramp!”

your heart felt like it was in your throat. another bomb went off and the craft shook violently. you yelped, falling sideways. 

“sergeant!” ghost called. you pushed yourself up and tried to orient yourself. ghost shouted your name when you wouldn’t reply. you looked up at him. “you alright?”

you stared at him before your eyes flickered to soap who was shooting his gun out the window. 

“are you alright?” ghost said more forcefully, his frame bending in half, his face now in your direct line of sight to grab your attention. it hadn’t registered that ghost was talking to you. you were only frazzled from the rocking of the craft, the explosions ringing in your ear, but you were otherwise safe behind ghost and soap, so you weren’t sure why he was so set on making sure you were okay. 

however, ghost seemed to not be able to accept that you were okay until you verbally told him. 

“yes,” you said faintly. ghost turned back to aiming his gun out the window without a second thought.

after another minute of gunfire, there was a lull. 

“we clear?” soap asked. 

“for now…” ghost replied. 

you finished wrapping the arm of the bleeding soldier, and assessed that he had hit his head and had knocked himself out. 

“alpha, you’re with us.” ghost commanded as he took off out of the ship. you and the men followed. you spoke over the comms to let the others know you left a soldier back in the crash site. he was wounded, but would be okay. 

“those fuckers used us as bait, didn’t they?” alpha 0-2 said. 

“they’re well supplied and fighting relentlessly. thanks to hassan,” ghost said unhappily. 

soap looked back at you. “keep up. we’re gonna need ya.”

you hustled behind him, your pistol at the ready.

the lot of you ran a wide berth, sprinting towards building 3, hoping hassan was inside. the sharp whistle of a bullet spiraled past you. 

“a.q. sniper on the roof! get down!” ghost shouted to everyone. before you even had a chance to move, ghost was pushing you down into the grass. you gasped as you were squashed beneath him, laid out on the dirt. he held his gun up and aimed at the roof as he lay beside you. 

“soap, take out the shooter. rest o’ ya stay low until we’re all clear!” ghost said, not acknowledging the fact that he had just pressed you flat to the ground, his body half covering yours. 

soap shot a bullet. “sniper down!”

ghost rolled off of you and stood up, giving you a quick hand as he heaved you upright. he didn’t even look at you before he took off running towards building 3. your entire body was tingling.

it looked like a gallant eruption of fireworks above the building as enemy bullets fired toward you. air support lighting up the sky. soap was a few feet behind you and picked off the snipers one by one. you followed close behind the others as you approached the building. 

soap was quick to follow, coming up from behind and going up the stairs and into the decrepit house. “7-1, moving interior,” he said. 

glass exploding rippled in the building and you peeked inside to see soap shooting someone down. 

“check the bodies, we need positive i.d. on hassan,” ghost said as he slid off to go in the right-side entrance. 

you hunched over slightly as you followed behind him, looking down at ghost’s trail of corpses as you did, checking for hassan. 

“anyone have eyes on hassan?” ghost asked after a minute. 

“negative on hassan,” soap replied. 

you tripped over rubble and fell to your knees with a huff. “shit,” you muttered to yourself. your foot was lodged in the concrete chunks. you tried to pull it free but that just shifted the rubble further, a large piece falling over your ankle. it was too heavy for you to move yourself. the house shook.

“sergeant,” ghost said, making you look up. he had backtracked when he realized you were no longer behind him. 

“i can’t get my foot loose,” you said. 

arabic echoed down the hall making your head snap up in alert. ghost began moving faster, squatting down as he approached you and heaving the rubble aside to get your foot out in one easy motion. 

“ow, fuck,” you said, biting your lip to try and muffle your sounds. 

ghost’s eyes flickered to yours before he moved the last piece that set your foot free. 

the rest of bravo had already moved to the antithetical end of the house when the voices began to close the distance. 

“shit,” ghost mumbled, pulling you up. he did so with such force that you collided into him, your hands landing against his chest with a gasp.

the men sounded close and you counted at least four different voices. their candace rose as they edged closer, like they were right around the corner when you were moved by ghost and suddenly faced with darkness. 

“wha–” 

ghost’s hand covered your mouth to silence you, pushing you against a wall. your eyes adjusted and you saw a sliver of light pour in through the slats of the door. ghost had pulled you into a closet. a very tiny closet at that. 

your chest was pressed flesh against ghost’s, the room far too small to hold yourself and ghost–who was already too big to fit in a closet on his own, let alone one with you. 

you could feel his chest move up and down as he steadied his breathing. your hands were on his utility vest. the voices of the men were now right outside the door. your fingers gripped tight on his vest as you tried to be as quiet as possible. he slowly let his hand fall to his side when he could trust you to be silent.

why wasn’t ghost attacking them? you’ve seen him take down trained men in less than two seconds. so why did he decide to hide now? was four too many for him? you doubted it, but you also tried not to think of the logistics because all that swam through your mind was how close ghost was to you. there was almost no space between your bodies, his front flesh against yours as he pushed you against the wall. 

a rectangle of light slid across ghost’s face, illuminating his eyes which were visible now that his goggles were turned up on his helmet, making the brown in them gleam. like he could feel you staring, he looked down at you and you felt your face heat. you shifted your stance, trying to widen the distance between your bodies but your back was already flat against the wall. there was nowhere to go. 

“what’re you doin’?” he said quietly.

you glared at him in response as you continued to slightly shift your body, wanting to at least have it so your side was pressed against him and not your front. you tried to shuffle your feet, wanting to turn, to push him back a bit, but you ended up just rubbing against him instead.

“quit squirming!” he finally hissed, his hands coming out to rest on either side of your head. 

well now you were just stuck in an awkward stance so you tried to move your hips a bit, wanting to pull them away from ghost and back to how you were originally standing, but with the limited space, you were essentially just moving your hips against his own. 

ghost growled in his throat and you stopped moving and let your breathing steady. you felt something hard press against your stomach and your eyes widened as you stared at ghost’s chest. 

oh my god, you thought.

you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes flickered to his own, his eyes already pouring into you. your breath got caught in your throat. “i told ya to quit fuckin’ wiggling ‘round,” he said as if that made things more appropriate. 

a flash of heat ebbed through your core. you told yourself that this was purely a physical thing– men could get turned on by a goddamn gust of wind if it hit them the right way. this had nothing to do with the fact that it was you pressed against him. this kind of bodily response would have happened no matter who it was against him.  

you went to clench your thighs together in nerves and heat but you were stopped by ghost’s thigh. you realized the ceiling in there was too short for him and he had to hunch over, his knees bending and leaning on the wall between your own legs. oh my god , you thought again.

your face went red hot. fuck, of course you were stuck with ghost in the world’s smallest closest.

ghost’s eyes traced your face when he felt your legs press against his own, a sudden flare igniting in them. 

oh no, did he think you were… you quickly worried. you wondered if ghost could tell you had been squeezing your legs together to subdue the quick sweeping sensation of arousal you got–this was not the time or place!

ghost’s head shifted ever so slightly closer to your own and his eyes were now disguised by the shadows of the closet. you could feel his warm breath against your face as he panted through his mask. you were trapped. he had you pinned, his large arms encasing your head, his leg between your own, his face inching closer to yours. 

you felt your breath get lost in your throat, your mind suddenly going blank. 

“ghost! ghost, where are you?” soap’s voice broke through both of your ears. 

ghost halted any and all movement, his eyes flickering between your own. you realized you no longer heard iranian voices and wondered how long the men had been out of range. 

it was as if ghost realized that at the same time you did because he pushed away from you and slid out the door, into the dusty and war-torn living room. now that he was away from you and not clogging your brain, you thought you might have imagined the way he had been edging toward you.

“deck one secure. any i.d. on hassan?” ghost spoke, his voice strained. 

you slid out of the closet behind him. “negative, lt.” soap replied. 

ghost turned to you as you stumbled into him, your ankle giving out at the most opportune time. 

“ shit ,” you grunted. ghost turned his head to look at you, his eyes glowing in the flames that brewed inside the building. “sorry,” you muttered. 

“keep close,” he said to you. you felt your chest ignite. you had to control your eyes from shifting to his waist to see what you felt moments earlier. you were surprised your willpower was strong enough. 

ghost led you around the bend and up a set of stairs, soap appearing beside you both. “pushing second deck.”

you slid on your night vision goggles and watched as ghost scurried to the side of a door when he made it to the top of the steps. a man opened it and walked through, ghost grabbing him and slamming him against the wall, the man’s gun pressed to his chest. in two swift motions, ghost shot his abdomen then his head, letting the body sink down. 

jesus . you always knew ghost was a ruthless killer, but that was more so knowledge in theory. it was another thing entirely to watch it unfold before your own eyes. 

you followed the men as they stealthed into the next room. you heard soap’s gun go off, and then ghost’s voice. “clear. hassan’s everywhere…” 

you could hear hassan’s voice as it played in the distance, seemingly from every room. a video on loop of him speaking nonsense sat in the shadows like a horror movie. you felt a chill run down your legs realizing that no matter which way you turned, hassan’s voice was not far off. 

“everywhere but here,” you mumbled. ghost’s eyes scanned you up and down before trailing on into the next room. you swore every hair on your body stood on its ends. 

“the perpetrators of general ghorbrani’s execution must be sentenced to the death penalty and the world must witness the death of those responsible!” hassan’s iranian accent sang through a crackling radio. 

you and soap poked around, not finding anything of use, apart from soap spotting hassan’s uniform, meaning he had recently been here. 

“so he was here,” you muttered.

“lost him when we secured the crash site,” ghost spoke, looking between you and soap.

“are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” soap asked.

ghost averted his eyes on his next words as if he didn’t like what he was about to say. “choices have consequences…” his eyes gazed over to yours, burning holes through his skull mask. you could see the disappointment and guilt that was attached to his statement. you were surprised at how much emotion he was able to exude through just his eyes. you wondered if he knew that. 

“all bravo- we got movement out here,” someone said over the comms. 

ghost reached up to click his receiver, his eyes still on yours, “on the way.”

you followed behind the two men as the continued to speak. as you made it out behind the house, ghost spoke, “what do we got?”

“a warehouse. roll up doors open. heard somethin’ inside.”

ghost spoke with a sense of assuredness, “copy, let’s clear it.”

you trailed the men as they all took off towards the large warehouse, ghost and soap hoping that hassan was nestled inside. 

you rested your back against the building as the men started inside, gunshots and smoke bombs going off as they fought the enemy planted in the warehouse. 

“all alone?” a husky voice with a thick iranian accent spoke. you looked to your right, your hands grabbing your gun, startled, when a man disarmed you in a quick, fluid motion. 

you yelped as his hand wrapped around your neck, pressing you forcefully to the exterior wall. you saw static stars begin to spread across your vision. 

shit, shit, shit.

your legs flailed as you tried to kick and squirm your way out of his grip. his hand held you tighter. you swore your feet began to lift off the ground. recalling all the training you had done the last two weeks, you propped your knee up, bending it as much as you could against your chest, then shot it out with all the strength you could manage. the man stumbled, releasing you, as he collapsed onto the ground. 

“eahira” bitch . he scrambled to get up and you panicked, trying to get your knife out of it’s sheath. 

before the man could grab you again, his body just a hair from your own, a bullet pierced his skull. flecks of his blood squirted across your exposed face like red freckles. you stood in complete shock, the man sinking to the ground with a thump.

it was ghost that replaced the dead man, his hands resting on your shoulder, his deep voice saying your name repeatedly. 

you finally looked up at him. “are you okay?” you swear you could see a bit of pride in his eyes as he took you in.

you nodded weakly, wincing as your neck muscles throbbed in pain from the small movement. 

ghost yanked your mask up to look at your neck, already beginning to bruise. 

his eyes darkened as they met yours again. “if that fucker wasn’t already dead, i’d tie him up and rip off his limbs one by one for that.”

you couldn’t help the astonished laugh from escaping your lips at the exorbitant threat. then a pang of heat surfaced when you realized ghost had made no such threats as his other men were picked off. he also didn’t seem to rush to their aid immediately. yet here he was… with you. 

“hassan,” you said meekly. 

ghost’s hands left your shoulders as he straightened. you felt a bit of sadness at the loss of contact. 

“not here. found an arsenal of ballistic missiles. american missiles.”

your eyes widened at the information. “and shepperd…”

“already alerted.”

you nodded. “so that’s it then?” you asked, referring to the war trail you and your men left behind with nothing to show for it. 

ghost gave a nod back. “we’re one step closer. we’ll find him.” 

you don’t know why you took his word with such ease, but you knew he meant what he said. ghost wouldn’t rest until he had hassan in his clutches. 

day broke by the time a humvee arrived to carry you all back to base. the injured men were loaded on one, the rest of bravo and alpha on another. there were significantly fewer men than when you started this hours ago. you felt a heavy feeling swarm your chest. 

you were busy making sure your bag was closed and that you had all your things in it when you looked up and saw ghost step into the back of the vehicle. 

you scurried to catch up, the last one as you climbed into the back. as you went to stand, the humvee took off, making you stumble and lose balance. 

fuck , was the last thought you had as you felt yourself falling backward out of the vehicle. your arms flailed, trying to grab onto something, when a hand gripped your vest, yanking you forward and onto the humvee. 

you looked up in relief to find ghost glaring at you. his hand was still tight around your tactical vest, the other men closest to the back were out of their seats in an effort to grab you. but of course, ghost got there first. 

his eyes bore into your own, an odd wave of spite in them. 

you knew it was your fault for dilly-dallying, but was he really going to be upset at you for almost falling out of the vehicle? it should cause more annoyance than anger, really. 

you gulped and ghost released you, moving back to his seat. you stared after him until you felt soap touch your wrist. “sit,” he mumbled. 

you focused on him instead of your lieutenant and sat in the empty seat beside soap. 

you shifted your bag so it was on your lap, the men around you silent, all of them exhibiting a mix of disappointment in their mission and exhaustion. 

you felt his eyes on you–something that seemed to happen a lot lately. you tried to resist, but you looked in his direction and met his gaze. you thought he’d look away, but he held you in a challenge across the truck. he still had all his gear on when most others had stripped some of theirs off.

he sat a bit forward, resting his arms on his knees as he glared at you. 

you felt your heartbeat race and you felt like you might be sick with all the adrenaline running through you today–it couldn’t be healthy.

you finally coward away and looked down at your bag. a looming feeling coursed through your body. for whatever reason, the moment he pulled you into the truck felt like it was a breaking point for him. he was right back to hating you. despising everything you did. you felt yourself shrink in on yourself.

you never felt his eyes leave you the entire way back. 

chapter 5 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

[pookietv]

aquatic missile | arthurtv

had this idea that i thought was adorable so here

have a little arthur with a crush on a marine biologist !!!!

after arthur had moved to london, finally getting somewhat used to the area he had moved to, he had become slightly socially worn out from seeing his friends much more often, being exposed to many more social situations all whilst trying to unpack and organise his new flat.

so he had decided to abandon his responsibilities for the day to go to the aquarium, which was honestly one of the things he had been looking forward to most when moving to a bigger city then he was used to, the museums, zoos, and aquariums he could finally visit.

he was happy going alone, wanting to unwind, his headphones hanging from his neck, ready to play some music as he strolled through and gawked at all the sea life.

when he walked into the lobby, he noticed the place was quite empty, but it didn't wholly surprise him - it was 11am on a tuesday, most people were probably at work or school, and he had somewhat been glad it was empty.

he walked up to the desk, slightly looking up at the woman at the desk before back down to his feet for a moment.

the worker was quite pretty.

"hi, can i help you?" the woman spoke, in a sweetly helpful way.

"hello, i just wanted to get a ticket?" he said, a little quietly.

"just a one day general admission?" she asked, and he confirmed with a nod of his head.

"yeah, that sounds good to me," he nodded, his eyes slightly crinkling as he offered her a slightly awkward smile.

"have you been before? we have a little leaflet with a map in that might help if you'd like one, you can obviously just wander as you please but if theres specific things you'd like to see, they're all labelled in here," she offered, placing a small blue coloured leaflet on the desk, his fingers gently reaching to take it, nodding gratefully.

"oh, thank you, yeah.. i mean, i love all the sea creatures but i do really like the sharks," he admitted with a small laugh, and she nodded, giggling a little herself.

"oh, me too.. the sharks are my favourite by a mile, i even have a specific favourite shark, they actually let me name her," she smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"no way, really? what did you call her?" he asked, clearly interested.

"a little rogue but i called her missile," she said bashfully, and he laughed.

"that is very cool." he confirmed, and she blushed a little with a nod.

arthur handed her the money for the ticket, taking it from her with a small thanks as he headed his way into the aquarium.

he could easily spend hours in the aquarium, and he did, meandering slowly and stopping at each small fish that he could see, reading all the boards with the facts on, and by the time he had even looked down at his phone he noticed it was already 2pm, and he was approaching the shark section of the aquarium, a grin on his face at the prospect.

he had barely ran into anyone whilst walking through the winding path of the place, and in the shark section he could only see one person in the whole big area, a big glass tunnel, someone hunched over on a bench, eating and watching the sharks on the other side.

he began slowly walking around, his head focussed on looking up at the glass, watching the sharks swim around, even over his head when he was lucky before he heard noise.

"oh, hi again," a small familiar voice said, and he turned to the girl eating, who had lifted her head up - the worker from before.

"hello," he said, smiling a little, "must be very cool to be able to eat here on your lunch break," he joked a bit, and she nodded.

"uh huh, one of my favourite parts of the day, checking on missile... and of course all the other sharks, i love them all. though, feeding time is also pretty cool,"

"feeding them would be so cool," he nodded in confirmation. "which one is missile?" he asked curiously, and she grinned.

"the one that swam over your head before," she laughed slightly, putting down her box of pasta and standing up for a second, slightly closer to him before pointing upwards, at a spotted slightly smaller shark, "that's missile, she's a leopard shark,"

"what about the others? do you know all their names?" he asked, and she nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"that's david, he's a lemon shark... that's haribo, he's a gummy shark, that ones called eve, she's a nurse shark... and the rest are hiding somewhere, but we have hammerheads, angel sharks and cow sharks hiding round here somewhere," she laughed a little, shrugging, "some of them like the attention more then others,"

"so you're really interested in sharks? or is it just a thing where you know a lot from working near them?" arthur asked, and she nodded again.

"i studied marine biology, i usually work more behind the scenes but on quiet days i work behind the desk too, but yeah, i love sharks, and just sea animals on a whole... i mean, i even have a shark tattoo," she giggled. "what about you, you just here to see them or do you have an interest?"

"oh, um, i have an interest in animals in general, and i just moved to london, so i wanted to come see the aquarium 'cause i've never been before," he admitted, and she nodded.

"i do love the aquarium, it's so peaceful, i mean sometimes i come in even on my days off, which in most jobs seems so bizarre but, i don't know, i just love it here."

and that's how arthur ended up frequenting the aquarium more than he intended to, over the past month going at least six times, enjoying the aquarium (and secretly hoping to run into the girl who he had become just a small bit infatuated with but had only admitted that to his close friends, who in turn obviously mocked him)

"you literally don't even know this girls name," george laughed when arthur had admitted he may have had a tiny crush on her after telling them about going to the aquarium for the fourth time in two weeks.

"well, obviously i know that, but i mean, i can't find out unless i see her again, can i?"

"only arthur could go to an aquarium and randomly fall in love with a girl just because she spoke to him about sharks," chris said sarcastically, and arthur rolled his eyes at him, his face red.

"she was cool, okay? she literally gets to name and feed and pet sharks, that is cool!" he defended himself in a splutter of embarrassment, only leading to slightly more giggles

when he next went, and he had paid for his ticket with someone else at the desk, and began his wander around the museum, he heard a slightly teasing voice once in the shark exhibit.

"you know, you could have saved yourself a lot of money if you had just bought a monthly pass," a giggling voice said, and he turned around to her with a slightly red face and a shrug.

"didn't realise i was gonna end up coming so much," he admitted with flushed cheeks.

"just become obsessed with the sharks, eh?" she asked, and he gulped down with another shy nod.

"uh huh. and, um. well, kinda hoping to run into you, also," he acknowledged, only to hear her laugh a little more.

"stalking me now, are you?" she asked, only to make his eyes widen

"no, not like that! just that, you know, i thought you were interesting and that-" she laughed a little harder now,

"i'm just kidding, don't worry about it. you do know there's other ways to see girls you find interesting other then hoping to bump into them at work?" she teased.

"well, that's what i was hoping to ask, you know... if i could maybe see you not in the shark section of the aquarium? like a date?" he asked, fiddling with his fingers a little.

"sure, that sounds nice," she smiled at him, "though, you don't even know my name," she teased.

"well, what is your name?" arthur asked, slight more confidence in his voice and a small smile on his face, slightly reassured that she had said yes.

"whats yours? i mean, for all i know you're some stalker who frequents aquariums looking for victims," she teased, leading him to jokingly roll his eyes.

"my name is arthur, and i promise it was not stalking... just thought you were smart, and pretty, so.. what's your name?"

"suppose you'll have to find that out on the date, hm, arthur?

#arthur frederick #arthur frederick x reader #arthurtv #arthurtv x reader

[doodlebat33]

Even tho the ask box is closed for now, can I request headcannons for netflix Monkey king and yn under the mistletoe?

Yes they are still closed but I had a funny idea pop into my head for something like this earlier today, so ✨

Y/n is telling me key king about Christmas. Ranging from traditions to food and folklore. He listens intently with a twinkle in his eye to such an exciting Holliday. Soon enough, y/n brings up mistletoe.

"What's that?"

Y/n: "Oh it's something that you hang up over a door. When people walk under it you're supposed to give them a kiss."

Monkey king gives them a sly smirk, "Aaaand, you wouldn't happen to have one would you?"

Y/n: "Unfortunately no... Why?"

Monkey king rolls his eyes and scratches his chin, "Oh, no reason..."

Later that day, y/n was heading to their room. They open the door and yelp as they see what appears to be a... Frog, dangling from a string in the doorway with what looks to be a small unlit firework in its back.

Y/n: "Monkeeeeey!"

Monkey pokes his head from down the hall and saunters over. "Yeeees?"

Y/n: "Why... Why is there a frog, hanging from the door?"

Monkeys sly smirk returns, "It's a missile toad! You said you didn't have one so I got one! Couldn't get a missile though, not sure where you get those so I improvised with a firecracker!"

He plucks the toad from the doorframe and places it on y/n's head. The toad croaks and monkey king grins with the upmost pride. "So? Where's my kiss?"

Monkey king x reader Masterpost

#monkey king netflix #monkey king 2023 #the monkey king netflix #monkey king headcannon #monkey king x reader #sun wukong x reader

[suratan-zir]

I've never been this close to leaving tumblr forever than I am now. Y'all are so humanistic, so righteous and merciful, when it's not your country that is being bombed into the stone age, not your people tortured, executed, shot and thrown into a mass grave with their hands tied simply for being citizens of a certain country, speaking a certain language. Not your babies being torn apart by missiles, buried under rubble. Not your relatives held in one of the many torture dungeons, being electrocuted through wires attached to their genitals. Not your houses leveled down, burned with everything inside, every little thing you loved or cared for.

Hell, we can even tone it down a notch. It's not you who is being left without electricity and water, without heating in winter, because it's not you who russia is trying to beat/freeze into submission. It's not you going to bed to the sound of an air raid siren and wondering if you'll wake up tomorrow. It's not you receiving insults, slurs and threats from russians. No, they probably don't have any problem with you, but even if they do, luckily for you, you don't speak russian. Because if you did, you could go to literally any place they hang out, any voice or text chat, any social media and ask them yourself. If only you'd spoke Russian, you could ask them what they think about the genocide carried out by their country, their people. And then you wouldn't have any more questions. Then you wouldn't dare to say it's "racist" to call russians what they are - murderers, thieves and their accomplices.

I never said that all russians support this war, this genocide. And I will never say it, it's just statistically impossible. But many of them do, and another large portion simply doesn't care, which in my opinion is even worse. I have less disgust and hatred for russians who say: "go-go pootin, all khokhols must die", then to those who mumble: "I'm not into politics". Because you can't afford to stay neutral and passive when your country is trying to obliterate an entire nation.

You know, those missiles that kill our people and destroy our infrastructure, they are launched from "peaceful" russian cities. Warplanes that fly to kill us fly - they fly over the heads of the "innocent" russians, who are filming it on their phones and cheering on. The only times they would be sad or pissed about it is when those planes suddenly crush on their homes. Or when something flies into their city in exchange for those missiles that flew out of there. This is when they get mad and demand to kill us more effectively.

Lately we are seeing many protests from the mothers and wives of those "poor" russian men who have been drafted into army. Do you know what they are protesting against? Of course you don't, because you don't speak russian, you don't care enough to find out. No, they aren't protesting against the war, genocide, bombings of cities of a neighboring country. They don't demand for the war to end. They demand that their sons and husbands not be sent to the very front line, they demand that they be placed on the 2-3 line of defense, where it is safe. Or they demand better equipment for their men, again, to kill the citizens of a neighboring country more effectively. Because they are not against the genocide, they just don't want their men to hurt during it. Those of us who understand russian language don't need to look at any polls and statistics. We can just ask them ourselves, and we hear their responds very clearly. Even from our own relatives who live in russia or from our former friends. And I wouldn't wish this horrible realization on anyone. Now there are more and more russians who don't support this war. Because they are losing it. They would have absolutely no problem with it if they could "take Kyiv in two days" as was planned. But now they have regrets.

I'm not asking you to blame and ostracize all russians. That's not the point I'm making here. But maybe - just maybe - you can't forgive people for things they didn't do to you? Maybe you can't be forgiving on behalf of others? If you live somewhere in the US, the russians can never harm you, your city will not be bombed, your relatives won't be kidnapped and tortured. Of course you don't hate them, of course you don't condemn them - it's not because you are morally superior - it's because you literally don't have to suffer from their aggression, either physical nor verbal. Your life isn't constantly endangered because of this particular country and people. Of course you can forgive and defend them all you want, and pat yourself on the head afterwards. Such a nice kind human being you are, not at all insensitive.

It's not like there are people who lost their homes, their loved ones. People living under constant shelling, without power and heat, people who survive day after day against all odds. But those people aren't as merciful as you. Only you are the beacon of humanism in this unfair world, good for you.

#ukraine

[callsign-relic]

Hiya! I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if you’d be interested in making a continuation of the one TFP Starscream fic with the (people pleaser) reader in the forest? It was really fun to read, thank you by the way! Perhaps them bonding or something, or just hangin out? Also, pardon me, but could the reader be artistically inclined? Or just an artist or someone who enjoys drawing. Thank you for your time!

Hi, it’s nice to hear from you again! I’m doing well, thank you for asking! This dynamic was so fun to get back to! The last fic was so fun to write, and I’m happy to say the same for this one too :)

The original fic can be found here!

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SFW, Fem!Human!Reader

The little forest hideaway by the waterfall quickly became a regular meeting spot for you and Starscream. Regrettably so, at least to the mech, evidenced by how constantly he made you aware of how much he despised your presence- but, c’mon! If you ran into a giant talking robot, wouldn’t you want to hang out with it more?

The first few times you had acted like you ran into that spot again by accident, but you knew the seeker was aware of what you were doing the whole time, so eventually you stopped kidding yourself and just started casually showing up. Over time, his attitude towards you seemed to relax, if only a little. And while Starscream was the prickly type, you could handle his snide comments if it meant he didn’t threaten to shoot his missiles at you.

So, there you were- sitting with your legs crossed atop a rock beside the rushing river that flowed from the waterfall. The mech was faced away from you, sat cross legged as well and fiddling with a piece of technology in his claws. He had remarked once that he had another base of operations- a wrecked ship by the name of The Harbinger, from which he found these pieces of what looked to you like scrap metal- but he still frequented the forest as the sound of the water supposedly helped him concentrate.

You had once asked if you could see The Harbinger.

Starscream declined.

Oh well, you’d get to see more of his culture someday. Till then, you were content with just being near the bot. Taking care to be as quiet as possible- part of the agreement of you being able to stay was if you didn’t bother him while he worked- you dig around the travel bag at your side. Soon enough, you pull out your trusty sketchbook and mechanical pencil.

You leaf through some of the first, filled pages. Lined with random doodles here and there, only a couple pages housed sketches you found worthy to share. But as the pages went on, the artwork became more refined- and one subject in particular appeared over and over again until it was practically all the pages were made up of.

Starscream.

What could you say? The mech’s anatomy fascinated you. It couldn’t have hurt to do a couple of direct observation studies, right? You cringed at some of your first few attempts- his form was completely alien to you, so it would make sense that things looked off at first. You instead focused on practicing one part of him at a time. His head, his chassis, his servos… and eventually, you felt confident enough to try and piece them all together.

In his frustration, the mech had shifted himself in profile to you, rather than facing the opposite direction. You suppressed a grin- this was the perfect opportunity.

Your mechanical pencil danced across the page as your eyes flicked back and forth between the bot and the sketchbook. First you got the initial shapes of his frame down, then the more complicated sections of his plating- it felt good to finally get into the groove.

“What are you doing?”

You flail your arms in shock, the sketchbook jumbling into the air before you catch it and hug it tightly against your chest. Starscream stares at you with squinted optics and a raised optical ridge. He said nothing more, so obviously he was expecting some sort of reply.

“What, uh, what do you mean?” You ask, plastering on a smile that, despite your best efforts, came out crooked.

“You’re awfully quiet, fleshy,” the mech replies. While your agreement of staying quiet did stand, you had to admit, you did often ask him a lot of questions anyway. While he did answer them- not without first making a show of how much of a pain it was- something told you that he just liked hearing the sound of his own voice, allowing you to ask as much as you liked. “What are you scheming?”

“Scheming? Nothing! I’m not scheming or doing anything like that!” You scramble to say. Your grip on your sketchbook grows tighter. It was one thing to visit him and press him for fun facts, but if Starscream ever saw that the main subject of your artwork for the past month was solely him? You had a feeling this visit would’ve been your last.

“Really?” He grumbles, optics shifting downward the slightest bit. “Then what is that thing you seem so bent on protecting?”

“Nothing!” You lie. Despite your words, your arms don’t budge.

“If you’re planning on betraying me, you’re doing a bad job at hiding it.” He casts whatever he was working on aside, shifting to face you on his knees and reaching a long servo out to you. You scoot backwards, but the rough surface of the rock upon which you sat caused friction against your behind— you were moving a lot slower than you would have liked.

His hand raises directly above you, blotting out the sun overhead. You shut your eyes tightly, bracing to be grabbed—

Except, it never happens.

You crack open an eye, only to see the mech’s index finger and thumb directly before you. Your sketchbook is plucked from your grasp with ease. You jump to your feet, futilely reaching up for it to no avail.

Starscream brings the book to his faceplate, carefully opening it with the very tips of his pointed servos. How he handled such a tiny thing in his claws so well astounded you. Perhaps you should’ve given him more credit when it came to knowing what he was doing.

He flips through the first pages with a bored look, but as he progresses, his squint becomes more intense. “Are these…” he finally speaks, breaking the agonizing silence, “…supposed to be me?”

You swallow. You couldn’t read his expression as good or bad, nor gather anything besides the usual annoyance from his tone. “Yes,” you finally bring yourself to admit. There was no point in hiding it now. “I-I mean, I know they’re not that good still, I was just doing them for practice. If you want me to stop, I can do that…”

As you frantically ramble, it takes a moment for the mech to tear his optics away from the pages and look to you. When your stammering comes to a stop, he’s silent for one more moment before reaching back out and placing the sketchbook back before you.

You look down to bring the book into your arms once more, and when you look back up, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Starscream was sat back down in profile to you, uselessly tinkering with the metal in his hands. You look around, wondering if all of that was somehow one big hallucination.

“You’re… not mad?” You squeak.

The seeker doesn’t turn to you when he answers. “I cannot deny talent when it is there, though I do not know much of the arts.”

You blink for a second. Was that a compliment? Had he just said his very first nice thing to you?!

“S-So… can I keep doing it?” You were terrified of pushing your luck, but if he didn’t want you drawing him, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“I couldn’t care less what you do, human,” he shoots a quick, pointed glare, “but… if my frame is truly of such interest to you, I would not object to being the subject matter for a little longer.”

#Transformers #Transformers Prime #tfp #reader insert #Starscream #tfp starscream #Starscream tfp #Transformers x reader #Transformers Prime x reader #tfp x reader #starscream x reader #tfp starscream x reader #Starscream tfp x reader #relic writes

[thatbanditqueen]

Basic Training Chapter 7

Mad love to my alpha @whositmcwhatsit seriously your editing and feedback make this so much better. Also love and special thanks to my lovely elvis coven, @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @peskybedtime @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @be-my-ally @shakerattlescroll @lookingforrainbows and to @ab4eva for her sweetness, you were the only person to ask me about Bess on tumblr between now and the last chapter and I was like oh, I guess someone is still reading this. Which is good. Because I am still writing it. ;)

Thanks to everyone who reads this, shares, reblogs, leaves a comment or whatever. I write for myself, but I publish for community, and I don't think I could write with out your support and friendship.

Summary: Bess resigns to get over Elvis and move on, but he has other plans.

Warnings: Not much, depictions of mental illness/delusion.

WC: 6.5 K

If you need to catch up Chapter Six: Guided Missiles or the masterlist here Basic Training

Click here if you prefer to read on A03

Chapter 7: The Minefield

12:15 p.m., Friday,  April 24th, 1958

Commissioned Officer’s Mess

Army Intelligence Training Unit, Fort Hood, TX

“I thought you were applying to law school?”

Bess let her straw drop out of her mouth to meet James’ concerned stare across the mahogany table.

“Um, I changed my mind.” Her eyes dropped back to her chocolate egg cream and she paused for a moment. The sound of glasses clinking and hushed conversations reverberated through the Army Intelligence officer’s club. “I kinda dropped the ball on writing my sample essay. And,ugh, I haven't been able to focus at all on studying for the entrance exam.” Bess trailed her shoe anxiously across the burgundy carpet, she hated admitting that she had given up on lawyer school. “It’s just temporary, a temporary pause.  No, for now, I think a year or two working for the state department is the best next step. I’ve always wanted to spend time in Europe..”

“But Helsinki, Bess?” James reached over to comfort her with a hand squeeze, but she pulled loose and went back to eating her pot roast lunch.

“Finland is a stepping stone.I could be working in Berlin next summer. And Helsinki has a lot of international action. It’s right next to St. Petersburg.”

“This sudden need to go to the coldest burg in Europe wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain tall, dark soldier who’s been doing extra laps around the barracks every day, would it?”

Bess lifted her thick, white cotton napkin to obscure the blush spreading up her cheeks. “I saw that he’s had extra PT, I’ve been wondering what happened.”

“Oh? I thought for sure that was all you and your front office connections, getting back at Presley — “

“Jameson, I would never abuse my position in the Front Office for revenge. You know how basic training is. Drill sergeants use any excuse to tear you apart just so they can build you back up again. He probably was late to inspection, or maybe he tried to protest extra push ups, and now it’s marathon time everyday til he’s learned his lesson.”

“Hmmm, must be. Though I don’t feel even the teensiest twinge of sympathy for him after that stunt he pulled on you? Think it would look suspicious if he got run over by a jeep? In his barracks?” James winked at Bess/

“Ha, just say you made a wrong turn.” Bess chuckled, but her smile quickly faded into a sigh.

She speared a potato with her fork, looking at it as if it had the answer to life’s secrets like a magic eight ball. Maybe all she needed to do was turn potato over and around until it revealed her fate. Sadly, no messages turned up, and she laid it back on her plate. 

“Thing is, I knew he had other girlfriends. I just wished he’d called and canceled our plans instead of leaving me hanging to find out another way. The most humiliating way.”

“Maybe he couldn’t get away to call? Or forgot your number? Have you seen him at all?”

Bess shook her head, sipping her drink again. “Uh uh. But I’ve been avoiding him. What am I supposed to say? It hurt my feelings that you put the kibosh on our night together for a pajama party with one of your steady girlfriends?“ Her eyes met James. “But, uh, he knows my number, though. He called that Monday, after she left town. And several other times.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I have Kay on switchboard duty. She has strict instructions to inform male callers that I’m not home.”

“You oughta talk to him, honey, let him have it.”

“I’d rather not, I  - I, it was, uh. The whole thing felt so icky, I never want to feel that way again. It took me back to last summer and Be. Except, this time, I’m the other woman and I know all about his girlfriend back in Memphis.” Bess put down her fork, unable to eat anymore.  “I think my picker is broken, James. I’m destined to be alone.”

“But are you supposed to be alone in Helsinki?”

“I’m actually excited to be single in Helsinki.” James raised his eyebrows. “What? The city is is pretty hip!They just hosted the Olympics. Lots of people live there from all over the world. After Berlin, it is one of the top hubs for working with the Ruskies.”

“Ok, ok, I get it, you hussy, you’ll probably be able to play patty cake with an assortment of good looking European men. I just can’t believe you are abandoning me, it’s so selfish. I’m almost ready to swear I’ll never buy another Presley record.”

“I’m not leaving because of him!” Bess huffed at the way James arched his eyebrow higher and straightened her napkin over her skirt. Aggressively. “I swear, how many times do I have to tell you, he’s just helped me get the perspective I needed. The straw that broke the camel’s back. I gotta get out of this place before I wind up like Mabel.”

 James sniffed as he motioned to the waiter. “Mabel seems happy, could be worse.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. But you might be out of here before me. I only just sent in my application materials, you know how these civilian posts can be. If I make the first cut, I still have to do a round of phone interviews,an in-person one, a thorough background check. Why, I probably won’t head out until the summer. If I get it.”

James quirked his mouth and whistled when they stood to leave and shook his head.

“Seems like such a waste to store all your resources behind a desk. Should be out, serving our country at USO shows.”

Bess slapped James shoulder, then straightened his jacket, smoothing her hand over his medals.

“Jameson, stop. Do you talk to the debutantes back in Rhode Island like this? You know, half the officers in here are probably my father’s spies. Keep whistling at me like that, they’ll convince him we’re an item.” She grabbed her purse and put her gloves back on. “Besides, I am not exactly the type who likes performing or attention.:

He looked her over once again, making an exaggerated show of appreciation for the way that Bess’ smart tweed pencil skirt hugged her hips.

“Oh, but that’s what makes you such a knockout, Bessie Girl. Why don’t we get married, huh? We could travel the world together, life would never be boring. We’d have great looking, smart kids.”

Bess put her finger to James’ lips, looking into the hazel eyes that glimmered below his perfectly coiffed honey blonde hair.

“I wish I could. I can’t marry someone I don’t love, not in the way I love you anyway.It’s no good, we’d end up ruining our friendship.”

James slid his arm through Bess’ as he led them out of the officer’s club. “I suppose you’re right, Schwartz, but if you ever get desperate and want to be married to a dashing officer who’d never leave you for another woman, the offer stands.”

“This is no time to be getting married, Jameson. I’m sure you’ll want to enjoy the local flavor in Heidelberg.”

“Hmm, yeah, no matter the gene pool, it’s gotta be better than this dump.”

Bess smoothed her hair once they were outside and turned to James. He looked so handsome in his dashing officer’s uniform, cap under his arm. He was probably the best looking, wealthiest man to ever propose to her, even in jest. She really would miss him once they left Fort Hood. Bess gripped James arm tighter before they parted, and smiled.

“No kidding, I can’t wait to put Fort Hood and Elvis and everything in my rear view mirror. Get a fresh start in gorgeous, romantic Helsinki-town, city of dreams.”

“I thought that was Paris?”

“Nope, pretty sure it’s Helsinki.  Though I understand why you’re confused, Helsinki is the Paris of the Baltic Sea.”

“No one calls it that.”

“Sure they do, I’m starting it now.”

James smiled, fixing his uniform cap back on his head. “Ha, ok. Well, as they say in Helsinki, au revoir.”

*********************************************

Bess’ fresh start suddenly seemed a million miles away when she glimpsed Elvis Presley running round the base. It had only taken a few minutes after she got into her father’s Oldsmobile before she recognized Elvis’ tall, perspiring figure jogging around the circular track behind the PX. There he was, in his sweat-soaked tee-shirt, dog tags jingling over his chest, running towards them in the dusk of sunset. 

It struck her for a moment how odd it was for the drill sergeants to have him do laps out here on the road near the gate instead of closer to the 37th tank division. They must be making a public example of him, she thought, having him do laps out here as people drive past on a main road out of the base. 

It was working, he looked absolutely miserable and exhausted. The cold grimace he had fixed on his face pulled on Bess’ heartstrings, and she felt a compulsory urge to go comfort him. But then she remembered why she’d cut him loose, and nodded to herself, reaffirming how wise she was protecting herself from further heartache. It wasn’t easy. 

She got so captivated watching him take off his cap and wipe his forehead as they got closer, that she suddenly realized he was about to run by her car and had to quickly duck down flat against the bench seat to avoid being seen.

“Ilsa, whatever are you doing?”

Bess popped up with a squeak, looking over her shoulder at Elvis’ figure running away behind them, then stuttered to her father. “I, um, I dropped my lipstick on the floor is all, Papa.” 

Dinner was pleasant enough. Mama served tuna noodle casserole and followed it with a cherry cream cheese jello mold. It was comforting to Bess to think these were recipes any other family on the block might be eating tonight. Though she doubted whether the other mothers were wearing a matching red dress and explaining the deep meaning behind the color red, and how powerful color it is, one that can provide all the strength and nourishment they needed. Bess did concede that cherry Jell-O tasted like what she thought the color red might taste like. 

And if a lecture on the spiritual nature of red Jell-o was the most occult Mama got tonight, then tonight was a good night. 

After eating, Bess changed into a more comfortable, simple light blue house dress, and was trying to calculate how long it had been since Mama had one of her episodes as she walked downstairs, when she heard Kay on the phone.

“Well, no Rex, I guess I’m not doing anything. Well, sure, gee whiz, yeah, I know a few friends who’d flip their lids at the chance. You bet, meet you there at 8!”

Bess turned the corner at the bottom of the landing, and gripped the polished circular handrail as Kay spun around with a wide, beaming grin. Her sister halted suddenly and tripped forward with a gasp when she caught Bess’s stare.

“Was that Elvis’ bunk mate, Rex?”

Kay gulped. “Mhmmm, I did like you told me, and said you - you weren’t home.”

Bess crossed her arms. “So what, now you’re going out with them?”

“Well, I - he - I heard Elvis tell him to invite me and any other friends to meet them at the movie theatre on post. It’s, it’s, not a date, it’s a group-like thing.”

Bess took a deep sigh. Miles Davis wafted out from behind the closed door of their father’s office at the back of the house, and she could hear her mother doing the dishes. Bess had come down to help clean up, and had planned to spend her Friday evening at home. She thought she might read or watch TV, play a game of gin rummy with Mama. Anything to take her mind off of Elvis. And now here her sister was, running out to go meet him!

“I cannot believe he invited you out.”

“And why is that? You’re not the only charming, good looking girl around here, Bess.”

“That’s not what I was saying, Kay. What kind of guy invites out the sister of a girl - a girl - a girl he’d been riding around with? You aren’t seriously thinking of going? What about Dickie?”

“It’s not like that. Cuz,  - it’s - it’s not a date. Why, they’re getting a gang together. Rex said I should bring some other girls. I’m about to call Carol and Tracy. If you think I’m gonna deprive them of the chance to meet Elvis Presley, you got another thing coming. Why, you always keep him all to yourself.” Kay huffed, and put her hands on her hips. “It’s not a date. You could come if you wanted, you know.”

Bess squeezed her hands into tight fists, squelching her sudden intense desire to slap her sister.

“You know exactly why I won’t be doing that, I told you how things went with him and you are smart enough to know he is probably doing this to upset me. And you’re helping him! My own sister. Kay Brutus Schwartz.”

Kay’s face fell, and she met Bess in the middle of the hallway. “It’s not like that at all. Please don’t be mad, Bess, but me and my friends, we have all his albums. You can’t hold it against me for wanting to go. It’s not like I asked, he - ” 

Bess brushed Kay’s hand from her shoulder and stomped off in a huff, her anger powered her through an incredibly fast cleaning session in the kitchen.

Mama dried the last plate Bess handed her, then put her arms around Bess at the sink. “See, Bessie baby, all that red Jell-o gave you the energy and focus you needed. I’ll get you some red silk underwear for your new job, I saw some in the Montgomery Ward catalog. Or were they red flannel long johns? Well, you’ll need both in Helsinki.” 

*********************************************

Bess had frowned as Kay traipsed out the door to meet her friends when Carol pulled up in her mother’s yellow DeSoto. At first she took her book upstairs and sat at the window, watching for Kay’s return around 10 p.m. 

By 10:30, she had moved to the porch, where she sat up on the bench hugging her knees and trying to read while she waited to catch her sister and pump her for information outside where their parents wouldn’t hear them. 

Yawning, she was just straightening the bows on her white house slippers when she turned to see a car pulling up in front of the house. But this was not Carol’s mother’s yellow DeSoto. It was a white Cadillac. And she made the mistake of looking up long enough to note the row of guys in the back seat and make eye contact with Elvis as he parked.

Fuck, Bess muttered to herself staring back into her book, unable to focus her eyes on any of the words. In her periphery, she watched Elvis jump out and race around the front of his car, loosely putting his arm around a giddy, smiling Kay as he walked her up the path to the front porch. 

Bess took a deep breath, accepting that there was nothing she could do, that she was stuck out here with her hair in a messy bun wearing a house dress and slippers. So, she braced herself and stood to confront the most famous man in the world. 

The cool night air was no comfort to the heated temper rising in her chest as Elvis walked up the stairs in front of her, his fingers now spread over Kay’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed, and a smirk played over his face.

“Hellooooo there Bess, ain’t you sweet, coming out here to greet me.”

“Hmmmm.” Bess nodded, curtly, exhaling at Kay’s sheepish grin.

“Well, I enjoyed our date tonight, Kitty Kat, didju?” He gave Kay’s shoulder a rub and Kay laughed nervously at his nickname, glancing back at Bess as she untangled herself from Elvis’ grip.

“Oh, well, it was a gas to meet you and the whole gang,” Kay made a show of waving at the car, “Tell Rex thanks for the Coke and candy.”

Elvis ran his hand through his hair.“Uh, well, I wudda bought you all the Cokes you wanted, I just -”

Bess interrupted him. “Let me guess, you forgot your wallet?”

 “Yeah, guess that’s happened before.” Elvis chuckled. 

“Ahem, Kitty Kat is it?” Bess raised her eyes at her sister. “Probably time you were in bed, little girl. I have a few words I need to have with your date, here.”

Kay coughed and avoided Bess’ intense look of death as she thanked Elvis for a fun night. He grabbed her hand, making eye contact with Bess over Kay’s shoulder and he hugged her sister and gave her a soft peck on the cheek. Kay hung in his embrace for several beats, then scuttled away to leave Elvis with Bess’s cool stare

“You have some nerve.”

Elvis took a step toward her, “Aw, Bess, now see, when you act like this it makes me think you still like me.”

“Is that ri-ight?” Her voice wavered as he took a step toward her with his shoulders back, head forward, rubbing the back of his neck. She stumbled back a few steps, distracted by the way his eyes pierced her from under his eyebrows.

“See, you actin’ like ya jealous, honey. But you ain’t playin’ fair.“

“Really. I don’t play fair?”

“Uh uh.” Now he was hovering over her, backing her into the front of the house, his lower lip hanging open as he leaned over her. “You play hot one day, then cool the next. Won’t take my calls, but now ya jealous. Playin’ games s’what it is, and I can’t stand chicks who play games.”

“Ha!” Bess had meant her declaration to be a lot more forceful than how it came out as a muffled breath into the dark, red fisherman’s sweater Elvis was wearing. Of course! Of course his sweater was red. It sucked all Bess’ strength right out of her. And her resolve. She tried for dear life to hang on to the painful embarrassment that had punched her in the gut when she met Anita.

“You’re - you’re - you had - you’re the one who -”

Elvis’ hand was at her waist, and his thumb pressed over her belly button.

“Sshhh. I know, I missed our date.”

Bess mumbled toward her shoes. “Well, I wouldn’t call a party in a cheap motel room a date by any me-“

Elvis’ pursed his lips in a grin as he brought his other hand to Bess’ cheek, his eyes gleaming as she shivered in him. He tilted her chin to meet his eyes. Bess tried to shake him off, but couldn’t, she was spellbound by the pair of dark blue eyes above her. 

She reminded herself that there was an audience of grown men watching them from his back seat. Then she thought she saw the curtain at the front window ripple and realized Kay was probably leaning against the wall inside, spying on them. She thought about how Elvis had invited her sister out, at the very least to get her attention, or at worst, to make her jealous. She thought about how she had sworn to her best friend hours ago that she never wanted to see Elvis Presley again. She tried to grasp at all these things and more as Elvis stepped closer to her, and shifted his arm over her against the wall. But suddenly thinking was very difficult. Elvis’ thumb circled the button at the waist of her cotton house dress.

“OK, ok,well, when you say it like that, sounds awful. Definitely weren’t no date. Still, Kitty Kat told me how upset you’ve been. And I know I shudda called you.” Elvis took a deep breath, and coughed. “ And, well, that gal came down and surprised the hell outta me, is what happened. I didn’t invite her, now that’s the god’s honest truth. But, well, put me in an awful bind and I couldn’t get away to call you. Wudda much rather spent the weekend with you, Moo Moo.”

His breath was warm on her neck, and the way he murmured her nickname was like a sultry saxophone solo. Bess closed her eyes as it rolled over her body, giving her goosebumps. His whisper was full of vulnerable need and Bess couldn’t believe that she actually felt bad for him, as if she were to blame for everything.

“I - I - I’m sorry.”

“Nah, honey, I reckon, if I’m honest with ma self,  you have every right to be sore at me. But you havta give a man the chance to defend hisself. Tell me now, don’t a man deserve a chance to splain?”

There was his thumb, gliding over the front of her stomach, rubbing back and forth.

“Really, I wasn’t trying to play games.”

“I know, Moo Moo. I know’d you weren’t really like that, else I wouldn’t be here.” He leaned in, pressing his open lips to the corner of her jaw, soft and delicate as he continued his whispers. “Though I don’t know if I could stay away even if you were the devil, baby. Ain’t been able to stop thinking about you.” His mouth was warm on her neck. “You, and only you.”

His touch sent a wave of feverish heat through her body, and Bess didn’t care if he was lying, all she knew was that she would willingly go back to his motel room with him right now in her flimsy white house slippers and all. However, before she could make that suggestion, she heard the front door open and she jumped up instantly, pushing Elvis away at the sight of her father’s silhouette in the dim porch light.

“Elizabeth, it’s cold out tonight. Why don’t you invite your guest inside?”

Bess swallowed hard, glancing up at Elvis, whose cool demeanor and friendly smile belied the fingers she could see tapping against his thigh through his pocket. She looked out at the car, then up at the dark sky, shaking her head to herself.

“ Hi Papa, this is, uh - ”

Elvis stood up straight and jerked his hand out as he strode to shake her father’s hand.

“Uh, good evening, Sir, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley.”

“Yes, I’ve been expecting to meet you for some time now.” Bess’ mouth dropped open. Before she could find the words to protest, her father was putting his arm around Elvis and guiding him inside. “I understand you and Ilsa have been spending a lot of time together, jah?”

*********************************************

“Can I pour you a whiskey?” The table lamp flickered as Bess’ father walked by, his calm words trailed behind him on his way to the bar. 

Elvis sat at the edge of the couch patting his hand to a silent rhythm and then bouncing up again to pace over to the hi-fi set.

“Naw, jus a Pepsi - or a Big Red, honey.” Bess glared at him as he looked up at her from where he perched in front of the record player. “Bessie. I mean, Eliz-a-bess.”

Bess frowned as Elvis popped open the concealed door in the sound system’s speakers and proceeded to rifle through her father’s LP collection. Her father arched his eyebrow, muttering in German that the boy seemed to know his way around and feel quite at home, jah? Bess was asking Rex and Lamar what they wanted when Mama floated into the living room, swaying the skirt of her red dress back and forth, a dreamy look in her face. Bess froze, looking around the room, then scuttling over to her mother and latching her arm around Mama’s waist, whispering in her ear.

“Mama - Hi Mama, I thought you went upstairs to relax?”

The boys all stood up as Mama patted Bess on the shoulder. “Bess, you’re making the lamps all buzzy, stop buzzing around and introduce me to your friends.”

Bess sighed and then froze when Elvis walked over and took her mother’s hand, kissing the top.

“Evening, ma’am, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley, s’a pleasure to meet you, I can see where your daughters get their good looks from, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Mama giggled and blushed. “Ha, well, you are charming. The faeries told me Bessie had a new beau, but they didn’t say he was handsome.” Bess’ face went white as she tried to guide her mother to the big orange leather chair in the corner, but Mama swatted her hands away. “Bess, I said to quit fussin’. Go get our guests something to drink.”

Every cell in Bess’ body was on high alert, and she rubbed at her throat trying quell the nauseous, tight feeling that now plagued her stomach. Bess had not brought Ben, her former fiancee, home to meet her family until he had asked her to marry him. At that point, they had already been going steady for two months, she had trusted Ben completely and had given him a thorough debriefing on Mama and the family dynamics. She had known Elvis a month. ANd spent the last two weeks hating him.

Elvis returned her mother’s hand and flashed Bess a warm, crooked reassuring smile. Rex and Lamar gathered next to him making their awkward introductions, before Papa walked over and offered Mama his hand, tilting his head at Kay. 

“Come sit with me, Emily, let the boys relax. Katherine, you get the drinks.”

Bess followed Kay into the hall. “I’ll get it, Kay, I -uh - I was gonna make Mama a special cup of tea - “

“I got it, I know how to do it. You go back in there.” Kay winked, and left Bess to sigh as she took a deep breath and resigned herself to face whatever was waiting for her in the living room.

Elvis sat on the edge of the couch trying to stop his knee from bopping up and down with the palm of his hand, already in conversation with Bess’ father.

“Jah, I started off in the German division, but now I oversee all intelligence training.”

Elvis’ eyes widened and he seemed grateful to see Bess walk back into the room and hit Lamar to clear the seat next to him on the couch. Bess shook her head and sat at the piano bench, trying to think of how to change the subject.

“Papa, I imagine the boys are tired after a long week and - “

“Oh Bessie, don’t send them away!” Mama waved her off as she got up and happily plopped into the clear spot next to Lamar, shooting Bess a playful frown. “You never bring friends over any more, it’s a breath of fresh air having young people over. Want any leftover tuna noodle casserole?”

A momentary grimace passed over Elvis’ face as he declined, and Bess' father coughed.

“Too bad we don’t have any meatloaf, perhaps zat would have suited you better.”

“Actually, mister, I’m bout plumb fed up with meatloaf, EP’s been ordering - “ Lamar stopped talking at the sight of Elvis’ eyebrow, arched in warning. 

“Well, Bess makes a great meatloaf, you boys will have to come back for dinner sometime. I’ll get her to cook it up for you.” Mama bowed her head with certainty as she spoke, turning Elvis’ hand over in her lap as if to read his fortune. “Elvis, such an unusual name. What does it mean?”

“Ugh, well, ma’am.” Elvis scooted back against the arm rest, turning in to face Bess’ mother more directly. “I have been told it means someone who is uh, very wise.” He winked over at Bess as she rolled her eyes. Kay returned, and she bounced up to assist in handing out the drinks. 

“I’ve never heard the name Elvis before tonight, is it common where you’re from?”

Lamar gasped. “You never heard ‘a Elvis?”

“No, why, should I? Do you all work with Henry in Intel?” 

Elvis shook his head. “No, no ma’am, Rexadus here and I, well, we’re new recruits, and Lamar right here is jus’ a ole friend of mine, visiting.”

Mama smiled big. “Oh, well, if you think I would have heard of you from Bess, you have another thing coming. She’s a sphinx, that one, never tells me anything about anything.I have to get all my gossip from the wind.”

“Elvis is a famous performer, mama. They’re surprised you’ve never heard of him because he is on the radio. And the movies.”

“Oh, is that true? Would I know any of your music?”

Just then, the phone in Papa’s office began to ring and he stood up to excuse himself, muttering in German that he would hardly call it music. Bess exhaled a chuckle at the curious look on Elvis’ face. 

“I’m guessing that weren’t a rousin’ endorsement from ya daddy,huh ?”

She shook her head, and Mama clucked.

“Oh, Henry didn’t get enough red food tonight, don’t mind him. You know, you’re not the first song and dance man I’ve met. When I was a girl - “

“-I met Eddie Cantor when he sang at Zeyde’s theatre on Coney Island.” Bess and Kay exclaimed in unison with a grin.

Bess relaxed as the room filled with warm laughter and she almost felt like they were a normal family, teasing and chiding each other as they entertained guests.

“Oy, well, it’s true, you boys have heard of Eddie Cantor, haven’t you?” Mama grinned at their nods, and took it as her cue to keep talking between sips of tea. “Well, I was just a kid when he was first making it big in New York. And my father had this vaudeville theater, and we met all sorts of acts working their way up the circuit. Baby Rose Marie, Bert WIlliams, Jimmy Durante, and, of course, a lot of nobodies trying to be somebodies. Eddie was probably the most successful guy to come through our place. Boy, was he handsome! Tall, dark hair, those big gorgeous eyes, like two rounds of chocolate.”

“Mama, zey ton nisht veln tsu hern vegn deyn shule meydl krashiz.”

“Oh, Bess thinks I shouldn’t share these things. She thinks I’m an old lady, that I don’t have blood pulsing in my veins. But I’ve always appreciated a good looking man.” Mama patted Elvis' knee. “Still do.” Then all of a sudden she swayed into Elvis' shoulder, her eyelids fluttering before she slumped on his shoulder.

“Ma’am? Ya ok? I’ve had girls swoon before, though they usually heard a me.”

Bess jumped up and looked over at her sister. “How much did you put in her tea, Kay?”

“Just a tablespoon.”

“It’s supposed to be a teaspoon!” Bess growled through clenched teeth as she felt her mother’s pulse, and tried to unfurl her mother’s arm from around Elvis’ shoulder.

“I’ll take her up - “

“Aw, honey - s’ok, want me to - “

“ - Well, it was an easy mistake.” Kay hovered behind Bess, and stomped her foot.

Mama’s eyelids fluttered back open for a moment and she looked up into Elvis' face. “You know, you have a beautiful aura, Alvis, I can tell you are a good person - Bess, if you don’t marry him, I will.” 

Bess gulped, and looked at Kay. “Help me get her up the stairs?”

Before they could do anything, Elvis lifted Mama and nodded at Bess. “Jus lead the way, ‘k Bess honey? Boys, y’all go on out to the car, and we’ll get outta ya hair ‘fore you say lickety splickety.” 

Lamar sighed with relief and could not get through the hallway fast enough, almost knocking the telephone off the little desk as he passed. Rex, however, hung back, gathering up the bottles of pop and taking them to the kitchen behind Kay, looking back to nod at Elvis in a silent offer to help. Elvis shook his head and followed Bess up the stairs.

“Alright, now, Mrs. Schwartz, ma’am, ya gonna be snug as a bug in a rug, jus you wait.”

Elvis set Mama down in her bed carefully, gently taking her hands and placing them at her sides. Mama opened her eyes and trailed her fingers over the sharp edge of Elvis' crew cut, smiling dreamily as she asked “Almond” if he would marry her.

“Ya so sweet and beautiful, I would, I would  if I could, ma’am.”

Tears welled up behind Bess’ eyes as she watched the tender way Elvis kissed her mother’s cheek and squeezed her hand before she passed out. They exchanged a long look, and Bess blushed.

“I’m sorry you had to see all this, I’m so embarrassed. You didn’t have to stay and help me - “

Elvis rubbed her shoulder. “Honey, I wanted to help, I like helping folks. Ain’t nuthin to be shamed of. Really Moo Moo, wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to. An getting to spend my night with the prettiest lil gal in town, why, that’s just the icing on the cake.” His face scrunched into a big grin as he held her, and bess nodded into the comfy wook of his red sweater.

Elvis stood in the doorway, watching curiously as Bess took off her mother’s shoes and tucked her under the large, homemade victory quilt that they had sewn from old clothes during the war. It was the only blanket Mama would sleep with, and for Bess, it evoked that time in her childhood when Papa was overseas doing things he couldn’t talk about and Mama was the strongest woman she could imagine. 

Now, as she looked down at her mother and smoothed hair out of her face, it was Mama who resembled a little girl, finally relaxed and at ease as she started to snore. Her sleeping face free from the cares and mysteries of the world. Bess kissed her mother on the forehead, and turned to find Elvis waiting for her in the doorway. His blue eyes seemed to penetrate her soul, as his thumb rubbed the side of her shoulder.

“Holdin’ it all together, ain’t ya Moo Moo. I see you. I really do.” 

Bess shuddered at his touch, wiping the side of her eyes.

“I, um, I. Well, you caught us on a bad night, Almond.”

He chuckled, drawing her into his arms and kissing the top of her forehead.

“Nah, ain’t nothing bad about anything.” The sides of his crinkled as he smirked. “Almond, huh. maybe ya mama there is on to sumpin. Might sell more records and movie tickets if I changed my name to Almond instead. Tell you what, wudda made it harder for the Army to find me.”

“Yes.” She took his hand and led him back down the stairs.”Though you would have missed out on your freel vacation here at beautiful Fort Hood.” 

They were back on her porch, and Elvis was clasping her hand tight. He looked out at the darkness, and at his car on the street, then over the garden, before turning back to hover over Bess, hands resting at her waist.

“Wudda missed out on meeting you, honey. Ya my silver lining. Tonight, being here with you, I know it now for certain that fate brought us together.”

Bess turned her head to listen to the crickets, wondering if they had any advice on how to defy fate. Especially when fate distracted you from all common sense by nuzzling your forehead. 

“Elvis - I - “

His lips were at her ear as he drew her closer. “Aw, Moo Moo, I cain’t bear to think I made you cry. I mean it.” His thumbs rolled up and down Bess’ sides. ”I promise, ain’t ever let that happen again. I swear. Cuz I need ya, honey, been thinking ‘bout you all the time.”

Bess couldn’t resist the way his eyes lit up with hopeful vulnerability, it made her feel like she was the one who had wronged him by withdrawing her company from him. 

“I  - I think about you too.” She cupped his cheek. “I’ve seen you doing laps every evening, are you doing okay?”

Elvis huffed and pinched her side. “Oh, yeah, you know me. Every morning, those drill sergeants find a reason to be cross at me, makin’ me do extra PT. But ain’t nothin I can’t handle.”

Bess nodded. Then Elvis’ hands tightened all the way around her, constricting her so tight she almost couldn’t breath, before parting with a soft, chaste farewell kiss and a vague promise to call her the next day.

Bess was humming to herself as she turned off the porch light and locked the door behind her, stopping short when she saw her father come out of his office.

“Everything ok, Papa?’

“Jah, jah. That was just the secure line, a call from D.C.” He straightened his sweater, coughing as he took in the dim quiet of their house. “Ze hound dog has run off, I take it?”

“He’s not so bad, you know.” Bess shifted and looked at her feet, unable to stop the smile at the corner of her mouth. “The drill sergeants have really had it out for him this last week. He’s been running extra PT and they put him on latrine duty. Must have pissed off the wrong person.”

Bess stopped talking, noticing that her father’s face had soured into a tight grimace. She had probably been right not to tell her parents that she had been seeing Elvis. This would be tough, now there was nothing she could do now.

“Jah, that boy did piss off the wrong person. Me. You would be wise to cut your ties with him, Elizabeth, he does not respect women. And you have a bright future ahead of you. I might expect Katherine to be dazzled by this flash of Memphis. But you are too smart for all that. I would hate to see you lose focus on your goals to run around with a boy who brings his hoochie coochie girlfriends to town and flaunts them in your face.” 

Bess was silent as her father pursed his lips, nodding, then said good night. She listened to the sound of his footsteps as he walked up stairs, her mind racing as she tried to figure out how he had found out about Elvis. About the debacle with Anita. About all of it. 

The disappointment she had seen in her father’s eyes crushed her, and Bess tossed and turned in her bed all night trying to figure out how she could make him understand that she could have fun and still go after her goals. It was the thought of Elvis’ long thumbs caressing her body that finally calmed her down. The memory of his touch was like her own personal dose of benzodiazepine, it made her forget all her problems and give herself over to the sandman.

********************************************************************

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#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #army elvis fort hood elvis 1958 elvis

[jiminiecrickets]

How about a drabble (seven days a week) where jk thinks oc is cheating on him but it is a misunderstanding?

sfw.

jungkook is going fucking insane.

who's he? who's she? why are you looking at your phone during movie time? whose blond fucking hair is on your jacket?

after bottling it up for almost three weeks, he thinks he can handle it. you'll tell him why you're so distracted, why you're rescheduling date night so often. he'd paced a hole into his bedroom floor and unnerved jimin so badly he had to leave and find comfort in hoseok, who popped his head in later to ask him softly if he needed a drink of water or someone to talk to.

no, he'd said, all scoffs and waving hands. that's ridiculous, why would he need someone to talk to? there was nothing to talk about!

then he goes over to yours – without letting you know – and finds more pale blond hairs on the black suit jacket thrown carelessly on the edge of the couch. he hears you scuffling about in the bedroom.

"no, baby. that's my boyfriend's. don't touch that."

you chuckle softly, and jungkook inches closer. his heart pounds. "come back to the bed. right here." you pat your thighs.

he squeezes his eyes shut and exhales shakily. abruptly, he rounds the corner. "what the fuck, hyung!"

"shit!" you startle, head whipping in jungkook's direction. on your lap, a small round furball yaps and one paw slips off your lap, nearly sending it tumbling down. you catch it in your arms and pull it to your chest.

a dog. a fluffy, cream-coloured puppy.

"a-ah – hey, baby! you didn't message me, did you? crap, did i miss it?" you pat your pockets. your phone's in the kitchen. "i can explain... wait, kook – baby, why're you crying? what's wrong?"

you wrap him in your arms and he melts into your tight embrace, hot tears gathering along his lashes and streaming down his cheeks. he squeezes you, palms flat against your back, and lets out a tiny sob.

"it's okay, baby. it's okay. whatever it is, we can get through it, alright? you're okay. you can tell me."

"n-no," he hiccups, balling your shirt in his fists. "it's stupid."

"are you hearing yourself? your feelings are never stupid. c'mon – spit it out, yeah?"

he covers his face and lets out a particularly embarrassed wail, half-sobbed with a flood of relief. "i thought you were cheating on me!"

"you thought i was – wait – darling, why?" you realise something. "oh, shit, it was because of date night, right? i'm so sorry. i had to go to the shelter to adopt her because they were running out of space and she would've been sent somewhere else or put down if they couldn't find a home."

"i-it's a girl?" he sniffles, rubbing his eyes.

you smile softly and hold him tight, stroking his hair. "yeah. her name's missy, but if you want, we can train her to another name."

he shakes his head into your shoulder, burying his fingers in your skin. "missy... is it short for anything? is she a little lady?"

"whatever you want. i haven't registered her with the council yet because she's not quite three months."

"missile launcher."

you pause.

you blink.

"jungkook?"

"hm?" he gazes up at you, and you wipe the remnants of his tears with the pad of your thumb.

"you want to name our dog... missile launcher?"

"well, i was also thinking jav, since it's got harder sounds and might be easier for her to recognise, but i like missy. it's cuter."

"jav... as in javelin?" you say, deadpan. "the javelin rocket launcher?"

"mhm!"

"i think we should stick with just missile launcher."

"okay," he says happily, and bobs down to the little puppy's height. she'd been hanging around your ankles for some time, staring up at him with a wagging tail and round dark eyes. he offers a hand for her to sniff and giggles when she nudges her forehead under his palm, demanding pets.

you take a seat on the floor of your bedroom as jungkook interacts with the tiny floppy-eared sweetheart, watching with warmth in your chest. jungkook beams as she clambers into his lap and over his knees, using him like a playground.

"while this turn of events makes me very, very pleased, i'm still a little upset you didn't tell me earlier," he says, scratching the puppy behind the ears. "promise me you'll tell me if you adopt any more dogs?"

"i promise."

"pinky promise?" he leans over and lifts his pinky. you smile and lean in, hooking your pinky around his and shaking solemnly on it.

"pinky promise."

#asks #jungkook x male reader #seven days a week

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Humans And Mutants - Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Title: In The Eye Of The Storm

Previous Chapter | Current Chapter | Next Chapter

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Bobby, Rogue, Pyro, Ororo, Jean, Kurt, Mystique, and Magneto

WC: 2,184

Warnings: Missiles, X-Men canon fighting, slow burn, slight angst, cursing, and fluff

The X-Jet flew through the sky, Ororo and Jean were at the controls. The other kids in the back, not saying a word. The one one talking was you, you were hitting it off great with Kurt; seeing that he was kind and had teleportation powers like you. Bobby scowled at Pyro, who was flicking his lighter on and off… Thinking, deep in thought.

Pyro glanced up and smiled at Bobby. “You think it’s funny? Let’s go set fire to your house next time.” Bobby said bitterly.

“Too late.” Pyro said, as if nothing disturbed him. 

“You almost killed the cops, John.” Bobby said, getting remarkably annoyed that Pyro didn’t even seem to care.

“So? Logan would have… If he hadn’t gotten shot in the head.” Pyro said, annoyed as well, looking over to Logan for a split moment. 

You turned around in your seat, staring down at Pyro. “I know… Let’s play a pleasant game of shut up.” You said, anger flaring off of you. The jet was eerily quiet as you continued, “Now, I know you’ve had a rough life John but that doesn’t mean you can hash it out on the police, no matter how terrible they may be. So, sit and be quiet. Capish?” You said, giving a sickly sweet grin. Pyro rolled his eyes and agreed. “Good.” You finished, before turning back to Kurt and continuing your discussion.

Logan watched the cockpit before Jean turned around and looked at Logan, tilting her head to the side slightly. Getting up from out of his set, he wandered over to her.

“How far are we?” Logan asked, leaning against the back of Ororo’s chair.

“We're coming up to the mansion now.” Jean answered.

Suddenly, on the screen, two red blinking lights were revealed, moving real fast towards the jet. “We’ve got two signals, coming in fast.” Ororo said urgently, loudly as two F 16 Fighters flew through the shadows and clouds, coming up behind the X-Jet. They each fired a projectile, aiming at the jet of Mutants. The kid’s eyes grew and they became frightened.

“Who are these guys?” Bobby asked worriedly, holding tightly onto Rogue.

“Everybody hang on!” Ororo shouted as she turned the jet’s steering.

The X-Jet banks hard and barrel turns, just barely avoiding the exploding missiles. The fighter jets were still hot on their tail. The kids attempted not to panic. Nightcrawler climbed into a tight space behind his chair and made the ‘sign of the cross’. Pyro then began to sweat hard as you buckled in your seat. Closing your eyes, you placed your hands on your lap, trying to calm yourself.

“Don’t we have any weapons in this heap?” Logan asked urgently as Jean glimpsed over to Ororo. 

Ororo nodded before her eyes then went white. Dark clouds settled in front of the X-Jet. Lightning flashed. They headed right into the eye of the storm, the fighters right behind. They darted and weaved, trying to avoid the Ororo. One of the bolts of lightning from Ororo’s storm slammed into one of the fighter jets, causing it to drop out of the sky like a toy. The last fighter jet skillfully maneuvered around the storm clouds, still in pursuit. Jean and Logan looked at the beeping detector screen, then nervously to Ororo. 

The surviving fighter jet banked and rolled. Avoiding part of the storm, but it quickly got hit by a lightning bolt and was sent rolling and tumbling through the sky. It succeeded in shooting out two missiles, just before falling to the ground. Jean watched the radar screen, two red blips hurried towards them.

“Y/N, can you teleport them away?” Ororo asked pressingly, trying to fly the jet away from the following missiles. 

“I can try, but I can’t teleport two objects at once.” You spoke up, unbuckling and getting up and to the front, holding onto the back of Ororo’s seat.

You began to focus, closing your eyes as the jet waved and tilted in the sky. Ororo yanked the steering stick back, both missiles went towards the jet, but suddenly one missile disappeared in a bright yellow light. The last missile was still heading towards them though as your eyes scrunched up tight.

You let out a shaky breath before your eyes opened, eyes wide, frightened. “Crap.” You muttered quietly.

The missile exploded onto the jet, making it disappear in clouds of smoke and fire. A large hole was blown in the roof of the jet, the wind blew out at a startling speed. Everyone’s screams were swamped by the shrieking air. Before anyone knew it, Rouge was being pulled skyward towards the hole, her gloved hand slowly slipped out of Bobby’s, and she flew out. She fell, screaming, the jet raced away high above her. Kurt suddenly appeared in a purpley-blue smoke, grabbing her. He then teleported back into the jet, Rogue and Kurt reappeared in a haze of smoke. The kids stared at them in awe as Rogue made her way back to Bobby.

Ororo and Jean worked on the controls, while you tried to concentrate on seeing if you could teleport you all out safely. Through the shield, Earth raised at dizzying speed. Ororo strained, trying to pull out of the nosedive. The altimeter showed their descent, going down by the thousands. Your hand reached over and grabbed Logan’s suddenly causing Logan to turn to you, in surprise. Your hand gripped his tightly as Logan noticed your eyes were closed in full concentration. You tried your hardest to try and help, but it was hard to concentrate when you were anxious, your mind filled with the impending doom of death. The plane got lower and lower and Ororo shut her eyes.

“Uh, Miss Storm?” Ororo turned, Kurt pointed at the hole in the roof, which bent and twisted, slowly, it began to repair itself.

The screaming winds died down to a whistle, as the hole closed entirely. The falling Jet began to slow down. Their speed then dropped, Jean stared at the controls, shaking her head. At a slight jolt, the jet stopped. The mutants all stared at each other, dumbfounded and shocked. They looked out the windshield below them, a peaceful road. A black vehicle was left nearby. The X-Jet floated in the air, nose down, only a few feet off the ground. Magneto stood in front of the jet, keeping it in place with an outstretched palm, Mystique standing right next to him.

“Ah, it’s the X-Men. Right on time.” Magneto spoke, slowly landing the jet, and lowering his hand.

~~~

The X-Jet sat in a clearing bordered on a high stone cliff. Below it, the small territory was scattered with dwelling supplies, each tent and sleeping bag marked with the familiar X. Above them deep, dense fog developed as a cover, hiding any vision of their projects. Ororo worked on the jet’s underbelly, Jean stepped down the ramp, seeing Logan. He saw her, noticing that she seemed noticeably agitated.

“How bad is it?” Logan asked, as Jean let out a tired sigh.

“We’re running fluid through the hydraulics.” Jean said tiredly, her hands on her hips. “If the test passes, it’ll take four or five hours to get off the ground.” She proceeded.

“That’s not exactly what I meant.” Logan said, a small frown on his face as Jean ran a hand through her hair.

“I’m sorry, Logan. I’m just a little worried about Scott.” She spoke and Logan pursed his lips.

There was a long pause.

“I know.” Logan said, as Jean then turned and walked away, not looking back.

Logan watched her leave. Behind him, you walked down the ramp, your footsteps on the metal of the jet’s ramp gaining his attention as he turned to meet your gaze. You got changed into your X-Men suit, ready for anything coming your way. You walked over to Logan, seeing Jean as she walk off. 

“You okay?” You asked, startling Logan a bit. She was wearing her X-Men suit. It was black and yellow, like the others, only that the coolest thing was the leather jacket, detailed with many patches from bands and shows. He gave you a questioning look. “I got this when I joined them, a couple years ago.” You mentioned, tugging at the cuff of your jacket sleeve, somehow answering Logan’s question. “But, back to the main thing. Are you okay?” You asked, tilting your head to the side as you stared up at him.

“I’m fine.” He spoke almost defensively as you frowned slightly, not really believing him.

“So, what do you do?” You asked, clasping your hands behind you as you rocked on the balls of your feet, looking up at Logan expectantly as Logan just raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” He verbalized a little annoyance as you gave him a smile.

“I mean your superpowers, silly,” You explained, teasingly as Logan stared down at you for a moment.

“Why do you call them superpowers?” He asked, and you shrugged a shoulder.

You glanced around the forest clearing before looking back into Logan’s dark eyes, “I like the sound of it better than 'mutation'.”

There was a period of silence as Logan just observed you curiously. You began to shrink into yourself, becoming anxious and nervous from his gaze, which Logan quickly noticed. Before you could even apologize, Logan spoke up, “I have claws and I can regenerate my health.” He spoke softly as your eyes widened slightly. 

“So you are essentially immortal?” You asked, curiosity clear in your voice.

Logan nodded slightly, “Basically.” There was another small period of silence, as you bit your lip, “What about you?” Logan continued, as you glanced up at him, before looking at the grassy ground.

“Well, I have teleportation powers, obviously.” You spoke with an awkward small laugh.

There was another moment of silence, which gave Logan time to study your face. You continued to bite your lip, the front of your teeth nibbling on the skin of your bottom lip, as your eyes that were not covered by your eye patch looked around worriedly.

“Uh, so, how do you know Charles?” Logan asked rigidly, feeling anxious himself as you let out a small sigh.

“It’s a long story.” You said, cutting the dialogue short hastily.

“Is there a short version?” Logan asked slowly, actually wanting to know more about you. Ever since you popped into the kitchen mere hours ago, Logan had been wondering about you. Surprisingly, he thought more about you than he did Jean. That realization was slowly tearing him up inside. He didn’t know what to do about that at all.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, looking up to him, confused, raising your eyebrow, staring at Logan skeptically.

“I’m actually curious.” Logan said, and by the tone of his voice, you believed him. You never really told anyone except Ororo about your past, but you trusted Logan enough to at least give him the short and very vague version of your life.

“Fine, short version. I had terrible parents, horrible few years of my life, met Charles, learned to harness my powers at the mansion, became a teacher, moved to Alaska, and here I am.” You said all in one breath, raising your hands in the air briefly before dropping them to your side.

“You met Charles as a kid?” Logan asked, interested in you story as you nodded.

“Yep, and once I went with him, life got better.” It was silent once again. 

Until Logan asked her a question that had been rattling around in his mind since he met you. "Why do you have an eyepatch?"

You looked up to him with an emotionless appearance.

Logan’s eyes widened slightly before he began to scramble, “Uh, I’m sorry, that was a bit-”

“No,” You cut him off, “It’s fine. Uh, let's just say, the people who took me as a kid were terrible people." You spoke softly before wandering off.

~~~

Mystique sat by the campfire, Kurt hunched nearby, eyeing her curiously. She sensed him but paid no consideration to him. “They say you can imitate anybody? Even their voice?” Kurt asked in his German accent.

Mystique turned her head and spoke his voice. “Even their voice.”

Kurt couldn’t help but smile. “So why not stay disguised all the time? You know, look like everybody else.” Kurt asked, as Mystique tilted her head slightly.

“Because we shouldn’t have to.” She spoke simply, making Kurt’s grin widen. He liked her answer.

Rouge, Bobby, and Pyro sat around a bundle of twigs. Using Pyro’s lighter, Bobby tried to start a fire, but he couldn’t seem to get it to light.

Rogue looked over at Pyro and gave him a hard glare, “You could help, you know?”

Pyro sat in the corner, his face turned down and cold. Bobby leaned closer to the pile of sticks and blew, trying to aid the burning flames. Abruptly, the flames shot up and Bobby dived back. He shot a frown over at Pyro but the young teen just grinned back.

------

@ashdoctor @powergirlsupremacy

Slashed out means Tumblr won't let me tag you.

#cute #fluff #slight angst #x reader #x female reader #x you #x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #fanfics #wolverine x y/n #wolverine x you #wolverine x female reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x female reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett

[dimorphodon-x]

Sleep hasn’t been very easy the last few days so last night I wrote something silly.

—

—

The Decepticon higher ups weren’t entirely sure where to put him when they first took him in, but after his recovery, Razorfin was lumped in with a seeker team. Everyone was already aware of their roles in the upcoming mission, a relatively simple yet dangerous one.

Razorfin didn’t allow himself to react as red eyes turned to him, a rainbow of twitching wings signaling to neighbors in a silent language he never would be able to understand or speak. But from their faces he could assume they couldn’t make heads or tails of him either, the segments from his alt mode made little sense to them.

There were turbines on and behind his shoulders, those they recognized, but there were no obvious wings (“come now, you can hardly call those little nubs ‘wings’!”), and he had what they could only assume was a tail or weird rudder hanging from his back. Ugly.

The newcomer ignored the seekers scrutinizing stares as he took a seat and quietly waited. Razorfin could handle their stares, it felt familiar to him, and it was better than being alone anyway.

They didn’t need to wait long before the hatch opened, and the seekers poured out, Razorfin joining them. The fliers changed to their jet alt modes, flying in formation. Razorfin’s altmode joined in unison, tailing the jets.

[What the frag are you supposed to be??] one seeker sputtered over the coms, disgust laced in their tone. Razorfin groaned softly in mild irritation.

[Stay focused.]

He could almost hear their grumbles over the sound of the passing wind and explosions down below. He briefly glanced down at the battlefield, watching mechs fights. He didn’t recognize any of them, yet there was something rather foreign about fighting against familiar beings in such a violent battle. He didn’t like it.

However there was little he could do about it, and Razorfin turned his attention back on his teammates. They’d very soon send down a barrage of missiles to break the Autobot’s defenses, allowing the Decepticons to overwhelm them.

Of course not one of them would be going down without a fight, it was only natural. Their weapons were suddenly turned upwards, aiming for the biggest target.

An anguished song echoed from Razorfin as bullets showered his underside. His eyes widened and tail lashed in shock, panic tugged at his beating spark.

Trapped in the mind of a terrified beast, he could only try to swim faster to escape his pursuers. In the air or underwater, he was not safe. Spears pierced his hide and encouraging shrieks and cries from the crowds urged his predators to continue their sport until the beast fell from pain and exhaustion. He would be dragged away to be repaired, but he never knew if he’d survive to see the next day.

Razorfin wobbled in the air, a sudden realization striking him. He was not helpless as he was before. He had the mind to fight back.

A newfound anger bubbled up within his core as he turned his attention downward, the seekers having already scattered and abandoned him. He was not prey today.

Razorfin opened his mouth, wails and booming songs of vengeance spilling out into the air as he turned and dived. The pointed snout of his altmode acted like a battering ram as he plowed through the mechs that were shooting at him just moments ago, their frames exploding upon impact. Those who ducked ended up crushed underneath.

Pink showered his face and dragging underbelly. His tail slammed the ground, knocking those nearby off their feet. His thrusters slowed, leaving Razorfin beached on the ground, but he was still fighting.

He arched his back with a wailing cry, lifting his massive head and tail before slamming back down, crushing any who had gotten too close.

A shower of bullets from the air warded off survivors. Razorfin looked up. One of the seekers had returned and was circling overhead.

[Get out of there you idiot! We’ve done our part!]

With a huff, Razorfin shifted to bot mode, briefly looking around at the carnage before running from the scene. He needed a good jump to get back into the air, his tail grazing the ground as he climbed back up into the sky after the seeker.

They flew in silence for a while as they left the battlefield. The seeker then spoke over the coms.

[So… what is your alt mode? It looks… beastly.]

Razorfin grumbled. It took him a moment to remember.

[Fin whale.]

[That's an Earth creature, right? Why choose that form?]

Another grumble, air hissed from his vents [I don’t know. I think I’ve always had it.]

The seeker flipped over him, Razorfin allowed the mech to examine his form.

[A flying whale. How silly.]

[Tell that to the guys I just demolished.]

The remainder of their flight was silent.

#my art #fanfic #transformers #transformers oc #Razorfin #oardivia

[weaper-reaper]

Eventuality Pt.1

2, 3+4, 5, 6

Hey shawties its me again, back with my FIRST Konig fic. Very terrible German shenanigans will ensue so be warned. I’m here to feed the small community that is the Konig baby girls. New format, this fic is written with an MC (I know huge surprise, but just consider it a reader-insert.) MC uses She/Her pronouns, I’m sorry. Feminine anatomy and all that.

CW: Medical Inaccuracies, German translation Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, you get the point, Fluff, Plot heavy, Eventual smut, Established background, Updating tags with each chapter, Konig x Reader, Konig x OFC, Maybe Johnny “Soap” Mctavish x reader, unless?, COD Franchise, MWII, Call of Duty characters, Captian Pierce, loosely mentioned

“Fucking stupid… piece of shit.. god-“ the sticker label fell through my fingers and I knocked an entire stack of papers over trying to grab it. “Damnit.” I sighed. How I ever made it as a nurse, much less working as an ICU nurse in military bases is lost on me. A chuckle at the doorway pulled me from my self loathing.

“Captain!” I quickly stood from my crouched position over the floor, and brought my arm up in a salute.

“Please no need,” he started, “I’ve just come with your next assignment.”

I could feel my face twist together with confusion. Next assignment?

“I’m stationed here until the sixteenth, sir.”

“I’m afraid we can’t send anyone else.”

I almost scoffed- and motioned my arms out. Here I am, surrounded by my own mess, and I’m the best person for the job?

He read me easily and tipped his head towards me in recognition, “Do you have any dependents waiting for you back home, soldier?”

I shook my head. No, I didn’t. And everyone knew it too.

Since I turned twenty, my entire life had been dedicated to school and military life. Even before then, as a child my dad uprooted us from place to place. Mission to mission. That’s how we always lived, so I tried my best to not get too hung up on any one particular place. Ultimately following in his footsteps and enlisting the moment I became of age. It’s like everywhere I went I had a label on my back that said ‘My dad was KIA, and I’ll serve until I am too.’

I’d made no real friends since I landed here anyway, so packing up and leaving now or in a week wouldn’t really make much of a difference in the end.

“Right sir, I’ll be packed within the hour.” I turned my back to him with a nod and scooped the rest of the spoiled papers in my arms.

“Good on you nurse,” He praised and it did little to settle the nerves that always followed being sent to a new unknown place. “Heli leaves at eighteen hundred.”

By helicopter? That’s a new one at least.

An hour later I stood at the edge of the heli pad packed to the brim- watching the black mass fade in from the far west of the sky, the sun glaring almost mockingly above it. As if the helicopter was a manifestation of my unescaped impending doom. A missile honed directly to me.

The duffle bag I shouldered grew heavier as it landed, attempting to root me to the spot. I was handed a pair of gray headphones and shoved up onto the machine. I pressed the hanging mic up to my lip and strapped in behind the pilot, facing outwards towards the doors of the tiny metal thing. A large window curved from my side directly overhead. There was only really enough room for the three of us and what little equipment I was allowed to bring. Although I was promised I could take inventory and order any additional nessecities, honestly I wouldn’t know where to really start.

“Evening boys.” I greeted, and was met with only nods in response. Great.

The blades hadn’t even been given a moment to slow down before we hauled off the ground and into the air- dust cropped up and swirled around us until we were almost level with the low hanging clouds. They were as dark and gray as the machine we flew. The metal blades thumped about as loud as my heart, and I did my best to settle into my seat, deciding to focus on the shrinking base below.

I eyed my bags tied tightly against the net on the walls, hoping I didn’t forget anything. My entire life was practically stuffed into those two bags- one being 80% emergency medical equipment said a lot I think. The photo bound tightly in the breast pocket of my vest burned hot- I itched to take it out but didn’t trust my fingers enough not to drop it right out into the air.

I sighed and threw my head back, maybe I could get some rest in at least.

____________

“T-3 Minutes until landing.” Chatter in my ears over the radio roused me from my head. I hadn’t been able to sleep- given I just spent the last two hours strapped in a fucking helicopter, but I was able to daydream and rest a bit.

The sky had turned a pretty gradient of orange and pink as we neared the new base. Light beamed through the breaks in the clouds. We were in the desert from what I could tell, dunes resided on either side of the starch brown compound below, almost letting it blend in completely with the scenery. If we weren’t directly above it, I don’t think it’d be too noticeable from anywhere on the ground.

Save the fact that I knew we were facing east, I had no clear idea where we even were. Hopefully I’ll be briefed upon landing.

I tore off the straps of my harness when the heli touched ground, and tossed the headset on the seat as I left- making sure to grab both of my bags before jumping down. My cropped hair bit against my face as the blades continued to whir above me.

Two men approached the edge of the pad, the tip of their boots not having even touched the yellow caution paint before the helicopter lifted itself up into the air again. I watched for a moment as it buzzed over us and into the darkening clouds.

“Private nurse Mack?” One of the men shouted and I turned to face them, pushing a hard look onto my face, the grip I had on my straps tightened significantly. I could see my knuckles turn white from the pressure. Okay new base, don’t fuck up, don’t fuck up. My own personal mantra replayed in my head as we took long strides towards each other.

“Evening gentlemen.” I raised my voice, as if it made me sound anymore sure. “Heard you boys needed some help.” I motioned to the large red medic badge on my shoulder.

“Aye, I’ll be the first to admit it, that we do.” The shorter one with the Scottish accent rang out, though they both stood impeding over my own frame.

“We’ve got ourselves into a bit of a predicament.” The other man began, he was slightly larger then the first, with scruffy facial hair and a worn cap that’s definitely seen better days.

“Captain Price,” He motioned to the other man beside him- the one that addressed me first. “That’s Soap.”

I nodded and fell into step between them when they turned, following as they headed into the large sandy building. We stepped through a series of doors before we ended up in what looked like a makeshift infirmary- a handful of cots lined the walls with no real space between any of them. More importantly men atop the dirty and stained beds, some even sat on the floor nearest the entrance.

“Forgive us if we skip the formalities, lass.” The scot voiced, Soap. “‘Y’have yer kit with ya?”

I swung my unessacey shit off first- the bag filled with uniform briefs and clothes mostly, lost in whatever corner of the room that was unaccompanied. Unstrapping my suture kit I approached the closest bed to me.

“What the hell happened here?” I almost shouted over the groaning and muttering that filled the room. A quick glance told me around ten or so men filled out the little space. The man sprawled across the bed in front of me clutched at his bicep. Blood seeping through the wet rag he held against the wound as dripped down his fingers.

Soap approached my side and watched as I snapped on some rubber gloves from the bag attached to my waistband belt.

“Joint mission, we were regrouping with members of KORTAC when they were ambushed.” Price stated- a practiced calm behind his words. He said it as if it were any normal Wednesday night.

I gave him a curt nod and tried not to panic much, but being thrown into a room full of wounded men within only minutes of landing at a new base I didn’t even know existed this morning- it’s safe to say my nerves were beginning to get fried. I took a deep breath, the details aren’t really that important. I was here to help, so I’d focus on doing just that.

“Thankfully there were no casualties, just a small group of bloody nobodies.” Soap pulled over a trash bin from behind him and set it near me, I gave him a quick smile as thanks. He had a kind look on his face, a small scar rested below his bottom lip and his shaved Mohawk didn’t really do him much justice, but he didn’t seem that intimidating in this light. Should fate grant me a longer stay here- I don’t think I’d mind getting to know him a bit more.

Shifting my focus from Soap, I pulled back the bloody rag from the man on the cot’s shoulder and tossed it into the bin. Then wiped his arm down with a sterile alcohol pad. A gangly gash sat red and bright against his pale skin, a bullet must have torn straight through his uniform. “Just an ugly graze soldier, you’ll be alright.”

He grunted and rolled onto his side so I could treat him better, so I pulled out a disposable suture kit from my bag and got to work. Doing my best to remember to prioritize, I glanced between Price- who moved back to the entrance of the room, seemingly not wanting to get involved, and Soap still at my side.

“Life-altering patients first,” I shouted to the room, “If you can move- help the injured onto beds, and if you’re not bleeding to death go start a line in the hall.”

It took a good minute and a hard glare from Soap for the men to start moving, but soon there were only three others in the room with us. Though he stayed longer than Price, and did his best to assist me with two particularly nasty stab wounds; he decided to call it.

“That’s all I got in me nurse, hell’s bells, I can’t imagine how you’d do this all day.” He said as he left. I thanked him for his help but ultimately was more grateful that he left me alone with my work- his general presence was intimidating enough, I didn’t want to screw up on the first day under his supervision. So with another deep breath I eventually saw everyone who was involved in the ambush, and crashed against the steel table in the back of the room. Eyes closed the moment my head hit my arms, gloves still on and everything.

It wasn’t until a good minute or so that I rose back up and took a look around the room again. A mess greeted me, as per usual. My fingers ached and my shoulders screamed at me, but I spent the next hour piling dirty linens and rags into one corner, and moping up what I could of dried blood and mud into another. What I wouldn’t give for a warm bath right about now. Though I’ve had worse days in the ICU for sure, this one definitely got close to topping the cake. I was even more thankful for Soap’s help after the fact. Maybe I could sneak him an extra MRE next time we came across each other as thanks.

If he was the only one who’d stayed to assist, I wondered if they had anyone here at base who was properly medically trained. Given I’m not a licensed doctor or anything, but who was the last person in charge of their medical needs? Or rather.. what happened to them if they did have one?

The entrance to the door creaked open behind me, and I pulled myself from my thoughts, leaning on the mop handle for extra support. My eyes were drooping from exhaustion, and it took them a moment to focus.

“You are cleaning?” A soft voice spoke, something I did not expect to hear from the man who graced the doorway. His frame was hunched over slightly, a hand under the hood that hung over his face, two piercing blue eyes stuck out starch against the torn holes that stared directly through me.

It took a second for me to realize the voice belonged to him, and not some other stranger hidden behind his large figure.

“Uh, yeah.” I sighed, “Someone’s got to, right?”

He had no response and instead stared blankly at me through his mask like a statue- unmoving.

“Uhm.” I began again, “Do you need medical assistance?” I tried to say as calmly and invitingly as I could. Though I couldn’t see his face, by his body language alone it seemed as if he would turn and leave with any wrong movement.

He stayed as he was and watched me while drained the dirty bucket and put the mop back into the closet I originally found them from.

“I thought perhaps I could do it myself, but..” he trailed off and guestured up to his face with a point from his elbow.

I put on a fresh pair of gloves and sat on the edge of an empty cot.

“Do what yourself?”

He took a step forward and glanced from me back to the door. Letting a little ‘uhh’ cross his lips. Ultimately settling on twisting the deadlock shut on the door. My heart leaped in my chest and I instinctively stood and inched my way back to the steel desk.

He caught on quickly and immediately held both of his hands up in front of him, slightly crouching as to appear less intimidating.

“Ah please, I just do not want anyone to see.” He waved a hand in front of his face and tangled his fingers at the bottom of the cloth that hung over his entire head- held up only by the helmet he wore. With another wary look towards the door- as if someone would burst in at any moment- he lifted the mask just enough for me to see a long stripe of red from the tip of his jaw down to his collarbone, disappearing under the collar of his shirt.

My mouth went dry as our eyes met again.

Okay, Mr.Mountian of a man just needs some help. That’s all. I let a wary glance of my own settle over the lock on the door before turning to grab a first aid kit and some more sanitary wipes. My back was to him, but I nodded my head over to a cot- “Have a seat.”

After grabbing what I needed onto a tray and rolling it over, I stood infront of him. Even as he sat we were practically eye to eye still. I cleared my throat, trying to calm my nerves from under the uneasiness of his stare. It felt like he noticed every twitch of my fingers and any little movement I made, any inch of exustion I had disappearing with a rush of adrenaline from being locked in a room with a six-foot-something man.

He lifted his mask again just enough so I could clearly see the wound we were working with. It wasn’t very deep- and It looked like he tried to superglue it shut himself, but there were still spots where I could see the blood bead up through. His jaw had some stubble on it, like he hadn’t shaved in a week or so.

“It’s cleaner then some of the cuts I’ve seen today.” I spoke, doing my best to ease the tension that settled thickly over the two of us. The tiny room felt somehow smaller under his gaze. His body and presence took up so much space that it was nearly suffocating.

He only hummed in response. I dabbed some alcohol on a cotton pad and wiped it against his face as gently as I could, if it hurt he did a good job of hiding the pain. Only the back of his jaw clenched when he grinded his teeth together, eyes now anywhere but mine.

I placed my other hand against the other cheek, angling his head towards me a bit more and he stiffened underneath me. His body going as rigid as the cold metal gear he wore.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled and I could see his eyes twitch over to my face.

“If it hurts I mean.”

“I- I am alright.” His lips were chapped and his teeth clacked harshly against each other when he snapped his mouth shut again, as if he regretted speaking.

There was a beat of silence before I spoke again, “What’s your name? I’m Mack, though everyone seems to just call me Nurse.” I chuckled dryly.

His eyes didn’t leave my face this time, and I began to sweat under his watch. I sounded like an idiot to even myself. He just came here to get patched up, why do I ever bother with the small talk. I’d most likely be gone or replaced within the month anyway. He hissed under a particularly sensitive spot at the base of his neck and I immediately apologized, reaching for a clean cotton swab.

“König. That is what they call me.” His accent was thicker this time he spoke, gently cursing in some German dialect when the cut started to bleed again from all my prodding.

“Well König,” I repeated, “you did a good job of cleaning this up yourself.” The grip on his mask loosened and fell below his lips as he settled on the cot a bit more comfortably, and I praised myself for my smooth patient talk. It didn’t take me very long to finish wiping him down and stop any bleeding, I made quick work of setting a bandage over the deeper parts of his cut. Only a slight bit stayed exposed on the parts where the skin moved too much for me to cover it properly.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to take another look when we change the bandages again. Just to make sure it doesn’t reopen, but I don’t think you’ll need any stitches.” He dropped the cloth and let it settle down over his face and neck fully again, eyes boring directly through mine as I spoke.

He nodded with me, “Yes. Then I will see you tomorrow morning.”

He rose up into his towering form again and made his way over to the door- snapping it unlocked once more.

“Sure.” I agreed, tossing the bloody cotton pads into the bin. “Tomorrow morning könig.” And the door clicked shut behind him before I could even turn to watch him leave.

The uneasy feeling continued to sit at the bottom of my stomach as I picked up my bags again. Their weight was ten times heavier as I left the small room and wandered back out into the main hallway. In all honesty I didn’t even know if I would be here in the morning, though it was apparent after today that this little band of soldiers needed some official medical assistance. Wether or not I was the best person for that job.. well who’s to really say.

Soap was in the hall as I left, leaning lazily against the opposite wall from the door. I turned to pull it close and met his eyes. He had more color to his face now then he did a few hours ago, maybe he was squeamish around blood? No, there’s no way.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Hey yourself.” I joined his side, “Thanks for your help earlier, by the way.”

“‘Course newbie.” He turned to face the end of the hallway and waved for me to follow.

“Newbie? What happened to Private nurse Mack.”

“Too long. Plus everyone’s the new guy at one point.”

I hummed in response, and he lead me back out through the main entrance.

“Cafeteria’s through there- always stocked so feel free to eat whenever. Sleeping barracks are this way.” It was dark outside now, and the clouds still hung so thickly over the sky I couldn’t see any stars. Out only light from the few floodlights that were scattered randomly around the compound.

“So when do I get a cool nickname? Or will it be lame too.”

“Lame?”

“Soap?” I countered.

“Johnny.” He corrected.

“No you’re right, Soap sounds cooler.” He scoffed and I bit my lip to force the smile down. At least someone here could make good banter.

“You’ll fit in well here newbie.” He redirected us towards another sand colored building. I recognized a couple of the men I treated earlier hanging around the front entrance. It looked like there was only one door in. Their eyes watched us as we passed through, a couple whispers making their way around in groups.

“Don’t mind ‘em.” Soap had leaned over to mutter in my ear, his warm breath cascaded down my neck and I hadn’t realized how cold it’d gotten in the dark. I hummed again- not trusting my voice to speak any coherent words.

“This is you.” He pointed to a steel door sat at the very back of a long hallway. The numbers ‘21’ written in bold white letters above it. He could read the uneasiness that found it’s way over my face, and I hated how simple a read I was. Maybe I should don a balaclava like everyone else around here. “Something the matter, bonnie?”

“Oh, no.” I turned to him and hadn’t realized how close he really was in the dark and cramped hall. I could almost smell his aftershave, he probably dipped on me earlier to shower, though I couldn’t really blame him. I must’ve looked like a mess currently, so after a shower myself I was headed straight to bed.

“Honestly it’s just been a while since I’d stayed in coed housing.” The door opened with a creak, but I was relieved to see only one twin sized cot. At the least I wouldn’t be rooming with anybody.

He nodded in understanding, “Well if you run into any issues, I’m just over there.” He jutted his thumb back to a door labeled ‘19’.

“20 up are mostly empty anyway, those are the overflow rooms.” He paused and glanced around the hallway at all the doors. “Though with the men from KORTAC dirtying our plates, I’m afraid ‘tis fuller than usual.”

I let out what must’ve been my hundredth sigh for the day and nodded.

“Thanks Soap, again I appreciate it.” The bright dorky smile that adorned his face helped ease my nerves. I stepped over the threshold of the room and turned back to him, one hand on the edge of the door. He leaned against the frame casually, hands in his pockets.

“It’s nothing. Sleep well, lass.” He turned to leave.

“Oh hey,” he stopped me once more just before I shut the door. “If you’re feeling up to it a couple of the lads and I are going for a run in the morning- ‘round 0400 or so.”

He shrugged, “Could be a good bonding experience, or y’know maybe we’ll think up a cooler nickname then Nurse.”

“Cooler than Soap?”

“Extremely.”

I chuckled and let the door close as he turned again, watching him disappear down the hall.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad finding a reason to stay in one spot for a bit longer after all.

_________

AYOO look I know what this looks like… but It’s NOT a Soap fic I SWEAR. I just adore my babygirl so much you know I had to do it to em. Unless you guys are into a multi-ship fanfic centered around the same MC? Lemme know what you think.

Also crossposted on Ao3 under ‘WeaperReaper’

Anyway more Konig content in the next part, pinkey promise.

#könig #konig call of duty #call of duty #konig imagine #konig x reader

[nobodylivesson]

The Black Cat

Fandom : Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Pairing : Task Force 141 X Male Reader(Platonic)

Request? No

»»————>❃<————««

I sat quietly at the back end of the car, wanting nothing more than to take a quick shower now that we were about to reach Alejandro’s base and get some fucking sleep

These last few days with the tension of missiles hanging above our heads had everyone including Simon very serious but now with it gone they can all take a breath

But something wasn’t sitting right with like a nagging feeling constantly pricking my chest since I saw the missile detonate

I sighed and focused my sights outside in the darkness when a voice beside me asked “Still worried about something, (Y/N)? I presumed with the mission done, everyone would be happy but it looks like things still trouble you”

My mouth formed a thin line and with a calm face I faced Phillip Graves, another thing that has been bugging me for a long time

He and his shadow company have helped Task Force 141 a lot and I know Captain Price holds him in good regard but this was the first mission when I had met Graves face to face yet he has been trying to get to know me personally, too much for my comfortability

“Nothing much Graves, just some good old fatigue kicking in my systems after finally getting done with all that shit. Was thinking of all the things that are left to be done by us regarding the mission and thinking about it just made me feel more tired all over again” I lied smoothly while facing the front with my hands folded over my chest

My gut intuitions were never wrong and I know I shouldn’t be suspicious of someone new I had just met but you can never be less cautious, something Ghost always told me

“But why do I feel like there is more to it than you are letting on to me, I thought we have become close enough to share some secrets” Graves says with a smile like that of a Perfect A+ student making me internally roll my eyes

“Oh Graves, I think the tiredness is hitting you also for you to assume I am hiding things for I have shared everything I can think of with keeping our friendship in my mind. Anything more than that can be only shared if you become my lover which I, unfortunately, can’t just make anyone claim me like that” I say with a chuckle with my eyes still closed and I can instantly feel the atmosphere dropping inside the car

“Sergent, we don’t need to go that far I just wished we had a good relationship since General Shepard tells a lot about you” Graves tries to say with his usual tone but being a veteran, I can easily make out the anger hidden under his friendly words

I shrug my shoulder and look at him again with a smile before saying “I think we have already made that friendship Graves, if you want more try that out with Ghost or Captain Price, they are in desperate need of more friends. Anyway since your work is almost done I doubt we both will be meeting each other for a long time so creating extra friendliness would be saddening, you know?” As a matter of fact

But simply replied Graves “Well we can’t say for sure for the future might always change”

(Y/N) felt a shudder at this as a feeling of danger rang inside him but before he could say anything their car stopped just in front of the gates of Los Vaqueros which were guarded by Shadow Company’s soldiers

“What is happening here, Graves?” I asked in a low voice with my eyes pointed at the stationed soldiers of his to which Graves smiled and said in a hushed voice “It will be better for everyone if you stay put inside the car, (Y/N)” before getting down off the car with the other two soldiers while I see Alejandro get down from the car behind us

I quietly open the door by side and pop my head out to look at Ghost coming out of his side, giving me the look he always gives whenever he feels that shit is about to happen

I feel anger boiling inside my depts as I hear how General Shepard and Graves wanted us to fall back and everything was to be taken over by Shadow Company. I knew things were not right but I didn’t think it was as deep as this and I can see that Graves wanted to do more than just ‘take over’' this mission. 

If not stopped with this bullshit things can go out of control, so I tried to step out of the car but Ghost stopped me with a shake of his head when I heard Graves say “Your men have been detained” and all hell broke loose as Alejandro pounced at Graves only to be pinned at our car

I swing open my door at once when I hear gunshots being fired towards Soap and see Simon hit the guard behind him, slipping a knife down my sleeve into my palm, I quickly kill the soldier waiting near my left side

Ghost turns around to disable another soldier coming towards him as I shoot another soldier towards my right when I get into high alert with Soap’s painful grunt heard after I saw an onslaught of bullets fired towards him

I make eye contact with Ghost who instantly can see my next actions and falls to the ground while I take leverage of the open window to jump on top of the car, surprising the soldiers on the other side

Without giving them any time, I shoot down the two guards with my gun before jumping down from the car roof in front of the unconscious Alejandro and saw Soap has managed to run down the hill

 Graves who was going towards Ghost came out from the gap between my car and the one behind but couldn’t even turn as I jumped at his back to twist his hands, disarmed him and held a knife near his throat’s vital point

Immediately, the remaining soldiers paused upon seeing this but Graves just relaxed before asking “Well very crafty at your hands, aren’t ya? But would the value of your comrade be enough for slitting my throat? We can be less hostile, right?”

My eyes quickly look back and see that a sniper from the upper deck post of the gates has his sight on Alejandro, making my grip tighten but lowered my knife slowly before throwing it to the ground and releasing Graves to raise my hands high

“Now that’s a good boy! General Shepard always did say that Sergent Chat Noir was a fabulous and important member of Task Force 141 yet his weakness lies in his care for his fellow soldiers. Want to wish this inability of you didn’t exist at this moment, right?” Graves asked with a smirk  as my hands were being tied down

I just blankly looked at him and tilted my head to look behind him when a huff escaped my nose and said “It seems sometimes arrogance makes the Great Phillip Graves forget the other factors of the situation”

Graves must have immediately realised what I meant by looking where I was looking as he turned around and cautiously went around the last car’s end to see Ghost had vanished

I can feel Graves's frustration as he looks down the hill where Soap has escaped and angrily spews “FUCK! I need you all to find ‘em!” before looking at me as I was held up by the two soldiers holding my tied hands, Alejandro held beside as well

“Well, at least we got the feline under control and would be getting the other two rouges soon. Don’t worry (Y/N), I will be giving you a visit soon for some personal talks till then enjoy some rest that you wanted!” Graves said while signalling for us to be taken away

I simply laughed at this as I walked towards the gates and shouted “WELL GRAVES! You will be getting the game of Chase of your life cause Sergent Soap and Lt.Ghost can handle babies like you with the back of their hands”

How amusing it was to watch to see Graves's dirty face scrunched in anger as I looked back before turning around and continuing to laugh

Oh hell is about to be thrown in the streets of Las Almas this night

In one of the dimly lit rooms of the prison of Las Almas, a man simply waited for his capturer to come as he slept on the ground with his hands behind his head and a leg popped on top of another

Since he had nothing better to do he decided to catch up on some sleep as he knew he would need his energy soon when his teammates came to get him

He was thrown here right after being tied for god knows what reason but being agitated or hyper about a situation you can’t do anything about is not his forte so he just chilled

That is until he heard the steel door of the room move and creak before it slowly opened, his eyes still closed and his body still relaxed

“Oh, it seems being locked here seems like a field trip for our prisoner for him to be so relaxed in the cell. So much for being part of Task Force 141” a voice hit the sleeping guy’s ear making him laugh in his mind

“Shush, don’t say unnecessary things. We do our things and bring him out as Sir Graves ordered. Now wake him up and be careful” another voice said in caution

“Hahaha, what can a sleeping man do! I have seen him throughout our whole mission and unlike Ghost or Soap, Sergeant Chat Noir was just laid back and seemed to survive somehow, makes me wonder if he got into special forces through connection” the first soldier says in mockery

“Oi mate! I don’t think-” the second soldier tried to warn but the other man interrupted him by saying “Nice to say? Or do you want to say safe? Come on and look at the situation, I don’t think anyone is gonna have the authority to question us about what we do here anymore cause we are the law now, definitely not this cat who got his tail caught” before standing near the sleeping man

(Y/N) at once opened his eyes and with his popped-up leg, kicked the standing soldier in his side making the soldier lose his sense. (Y/N) just held the front of the soldier and propelled that guy to the ground using his soldier, then badly twisted his right arm making it break and the soldier screamed in agony

The other soldier who saw all this happen was still gaping in shock when he realized (Y/N) was looking at him but he couldn’t even get his gun when one bullet hit each of his legs making him scream as well before a strong kick by (Y/N) made the soldier knock out cold

(Y/N) now calmly stands as he observes his work where the first soldier was still groaning in pain while the second was out cold yet it seemed he was not done yet as he turned towards the first soldier to do something more but stopped after hearing a voice

“I think if you feel the need to survive, you would leave those two boys alone, Sergeant” Graves's voice cuts through the cold atmosphere and (Y/N) already knows a gun is pointed at his back

(Y/N) simply just throws away the gun at his side and turns towards Graves with a broad smile as if he just didn’t demolish two of his soldiers with ease and muses “Nothing much, Graves just was trying to teach a life lesson to your soldiers who don’t know the meaning of being cautious no matter the situation. This kind of attitude would cost you in the far end, not me” as he comes out of his cell with his hands behind his head

Two new soldiers immediately withhold him while a third one goes to check on the soldiers inside

“Well do tell me how your presence Graves graces me?” (Y/N) asks mockingly to which the said man pays no mind and starts with a rant of his own

“As I have said before, General Shepard holds high regard for you and admires your skills. He feels your skills are being not given the importance they need under Price’s leadership and Task Force 141. That’s why, General Sheaprd has an offer for you. Join the Shadow Company and become General Shepard’s man, you will obtain everything you desire. Leave this useless piece of uniform and join the real army” Graves says as he holds (Y/N) face up by his chin

(Y/N) didn’t show any emotion like a trained person and Graves just frowned

“What will happen if I decline this offer?” the other soldier asks to which Graves smiles and replies “You will be pushed into the cell with Captain Alejandro after which we shall go out to kill Ghost and Soap. We will think after that what shall be done with you and of the missile crisis”

Suddenly (Y/N) starts to giggle before fully laughing confusing everyone around him

“Are you naive enough to think that your men have the capabilities to kill a ghost and its guard dog? An Undead can’t be killed twice and a loyal hound would do anything to protect its master, even bite your arrogant head to pieces. You all might be hunters of the dark but those two are the ones who control the dark, so I wonder who would end up being hunted in the end” (Y/N) mockingly laughter echoing around the floor

The soldiers paled at this thing and Graves for the first time showed his anger, face distorting with scorn and his hand harshly brought (Y/N)’s closure to his, their noses almost touching

“Well then, when I drag and throw both of their bodies in front of you I wonder how you will react, Black Noir. Maybe then you would be willing enough to change your mind and join along this side, under my leadership” Graves lowly whispers to which (Y/N) continues to smile

“First let’s see you make do it and then we shall discuss my reaction. Take back your worthless offer and let me rest up in the cell, the only person who commands me is Captain Price and one team I have joined will be Task Force 141 forever. A person impersonating a captain is just arrogant and shallow, not worthy of being my leader” all stated making Graves growl before harshly kicking (Y/N) on the stomach

(Y/N) winches at this yet still maintains his eye contact with Graves

“If it weren’t General Shepard’s orders you would be twenty feet under the ground sergeant, always remember that. Put him in the cell with the other one” Graves says it all as he prepares to open the door of Alejandro's cell and (Y/N) only rolls his eyes at this when he notices the soldiers he has beaten up being escorted out after being given first aid probably to be taken to a hospital

(Y/N) eyes shine and he loudly says “Oh soldier it seems you have woken up” making the soldier who was speaking shit about him sharply look at him with a fear stricken face

It made (Y/N) feel a jolt of excitement and he continued saying “Well soldier I wanted to tell about why I had Black Noir as my codename but you were not in the state to here, so listen. Black cats are known to give bad luck to those whom they presume as their enemy and on a battlefield I am the worst luck any enemy can stumble upon if they wished to return alive. Remember that when we meet again, soldiers” his voice suggested which everyone understood including Graves who simply opened the door to make sure none of his veins was popping out of anger

“Los fantasmas no existen, hasta que te topas con ellos. Remember this Graves Philip, when you go out today for your so called hunt. I shall see you soon” was all (Y/N) said before he was thrown inside the cell

(Y/N) straightens himself and sighs when he notices Alejandro standing at the end of the cell looking at him with frowned eyes

“Thought you would throw a fit when the door got opened, Amigo” the shorter male says with a grin to Alejandro who says with a sigh “Well after the storm you kicked up outside I knew that if I did something irrational now, I would get killed”

(Y/N) chuckles as takes a seat on the ground with his back and head being supported to the wall after going through all that shit, also the pain in his stomach from being kicked was still troubling him

Alejandro comes to take a seat beside the closed-eye male, for after a long time (Y/N) felt a little peace coming to him

Alas, he couldn’t take a rest with Alejandro’s eyes drilling holes at his side

“Something bugging you or is my face to guapo de manejar, Amigo?” (Y/N) asks jokingly to which he receives a punch at his right arm and a huff as a reply as silence again takes place

“If you want to say something just go ahead, I will be listening to you Sire” (Y/N) says while looking towards Alejandro with serious eyes making the said man just shake his head before seriously asking “Why did you stay behind, Sergeant (Y/N)? I have heard enough about your skills from Lieutenant Ghost and Sergeant Soap  to know that you had enough chances to escape with them and wouldn’t it have benefited us all if all three of you escaped”

(Y/N) hums and looks front while stroking his chin with his finger as if thinking deeply but instantly turns back to Alejandro with a smile seemingly an answer ready

“My instincts at that moment told me that creating a diversion and getting all the attention would be the best course of action if we wanted everything alright” (Y/N) says with a shrug to which Alejandro looks at him with a face thinking ‘Are you crazy or shit?’ before saying “Are ya serious? Just your instincts were enough for you to do this? Just as Ghost said you are one hell of a crazy burro”

“Damn gotta tell Leutinant to stop talking about me behind my back, instead do it more openly while we all talk together so I can hear these compliments in real time and feel great” (Y/N) says with a snicker and seeing Alejandro’s unimpressed look return back to the topic “I mean my instincts isn’t just purely instincts, I mean my trusts on the other, the knowledge about the other party, the best way to approach the situation and minimal damage to comrades also play a big part”

Alejandro asks with a raised eyebrow “You trust your comrades enough to know they would be able to come over here on their own?” to which (Y/N) simply “Do you not trust them enough? Or else you would definitely have tried to escape earlier when I entered no matter the risk, Sire”

Both men stare at each other for some time but Alejandro is the first one to break it as he sighs before he moves close to (Y/N)’s ear as if to say something confidential

“I would have never asked to work with the team if I didn’t believe in them. If both men can clear through the city and reach the safe house I told them about, Rudolf who also hasn’t been caught will be able to help them from there” Alejandro whispers making (Y/N) lean back at the wall in ease

If (Y/N) was being honest, no matter how much confidence he showed regarding his teammates' success, worry still lingered in some corner of his heart about how they would proceed with this mission and he didn’t want them to risk their lives. These guys were the only people (Y/N) called his family and friends, something happening to them would be devastating, to say the least, but he can relax now

“Well then we just sit back and can only wait now” (Y/N) says with a hum to which Alejandro asks “Oh, so we are done and ready?”

“Yes of course, now we just wait till those two are done with their Parade of death against the Shadows and make it clear who returns to the ground, us or those bastards”

»»————>❃<————««

There is not much to say, just that I have shown my face once to make people know I am not dead yet

#x male reader #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty mw2 #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #modern warfare 2 #soap mw2 #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #graves mw2 #gaz mw2

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Icy Reunions

(Samus, clad in her full Power Suit, is slowly walking through a dark, misty forest, arm cannon raised in front of her. Small, shadowy creatures regard her with curiosity from between the trees. Eventually, Samus finds a tripwire placed across the path)

Samus:  (sigh) Alright, let’s get this over with…

(she intentionally triggers the tripwire. In an instant, a ring of thick, dark vines sprout up in a circle around her, and the forest is replaced by a bright purple void. A large, ghost-like being emerges in front of Samus, laughing uproariously) 

The Snatcher: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FOOOOOOOOOOL!!! You blew it! You’ve totally screwed yourself! (Samus doesn’t even flinch before raising her arm cannon and blasting him in the face. Snatcher barely even reacts) …Ahem. Nobody enters my home and leaves in one piece! (Samus fires a missile in his face. He winces a little this time.) Tell you what though! You get to live! That’s right! Aren’t you lucky– (Samus fires three more missiles in his face in quick succession. Once the smoke clears, Snatcher emerges with an annoyed expression) Okay, do you mind?! I’m trying to do a thing here, and you are being extremely rude!

Samus: Too bad. I already know who you are, Snatcher, and I know you can’t do a thing to me if I don’t sign your stupid contracts. My daughter came through these woods a while back.

The Snatcher: HA! As if! The only person who ever walked in here and survived was– (his eyes widen in horrified realization) …No. NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO, A BILLION TIMES, NO! That little brat caused me enough headaches, I am NOT dealing with her walking armory of a mother!

Samus: Then it’s your lucky day. I’m not here for you, I’m here for your ex-girlfriend. So just point me in the direction of Vanessa’s Manor, and I’ll be on my way.

The Snatcher: Vanessa? HA! And here I thought the kid had a death wish! I don’t even think she can be killed! Believe me, I’ve tried.

Samus: Yeah, but I’ve got something you don’t.

The Snatcher: And what, pray tell, would that be?

Samus: Take me back to Subcon Forest and you’ll see him.

The Snatcher: …"Him"?

(curious, Snatcher takes Samus back to the spot he found her… and gapes in horror when he finds a certain green-armored space marine sitting on a nearby tree stump, seemingly having a conversation with one of Snatcher’s minions. Upon seeing Samus and Snatcher, he stands up and brandishes his Super Shotgun)

Doomguy: There a problem, Samus?

Samus: That depends. Are we having a problem, Snatcher?

The Snatcher: (continues staring at Doomguy in abject terror for a few seconds before pointing over his “shoulder”) The manor’s that way.

Samus: Thank you. See, that wasn’t so hard. 

(she and Doomguy head off in the direction Snatcher specified, Doomguy shooting Snatcher a glare as he walks past. Once he thinks they’re gone, Snatcher puts a hand on his forehead and groans)

The Snatcher: What is it with this freaking family?! I swear, if this day gets any worse…

Samus: Oh, by the way, Kiddo heard we were coming here and wanted to say hi. Have fun! (disappears into the fog)

(Snatcher gulps in response to what he just heard. He frantically looks around the forest… and eventually finds Hat Kid hanging upside down from a branch, right next to his face)

Hat Kid: Hi, Snatchy!

The Snatcher: (in the most comically high-pitched tone you can imagine) EEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#incorrect super smash bros #super smash bros #incorrect quotes #smash bros #Samus #Doomguy #Snatcher #Hat Kid #Metroid #A Hat in Time #Doom #original

[gachawolfiebloom]

Your Pursuit of Perfection

Story and Artwork By: @GachaWolfieBloom

Chapter 2: A Fun Night With Friends

Summary: A few months after the events of WOTFI 2023, SMG4 starts having really bad dreams about the "Its gotta be perfect" incident. One night however, his fear allows the nightmares to break through and he gets taken to a horrific dimension. He finally meets the tv adware, who manipulates him into returning to his insane ways, intent on claiming much more than the perfect video. Now it's up to his friends to stop this madness and save SMG4. Can they do it in time or will they lose SMG4 forever? (In case you are unaware this is a sequel to the its gotta be perfect movie)

Tags: angst, its gotta be perfect, love confession, luigi, mario, meggy, melony, nightmares, scary, smg3, smg4, smg34, smg3 x smg4, tari, tv adware

Everything had been set up at the castle for the sleepover as a circle of sleeping bags had been placed in the main hall. Each one was fitted with the color schemes and logos of the person it belonged to. "WELCOME TO MARIO'S SLUMBER PARTY!" Mario had on his red pajama top with his spaghetti patterned pants. Everyone was super excited to get started, except for Four.

He clung onto Beeg while thinking to himself. No doubt he was fixated on those awful nightmares of his. Mario tried to cheer him up by saying "Don't worry Smg4. If anything can stop your scary dreams, it's a fun filled night with your best friends!" He turned to Three and said "Right Smg3?"

Three was sitting in his skull pajamas while petting Eggdog. "Yeah whatever you say idiot." Four tried to muster a weak smile. "Thanks Mario..." Mario then noticed his pillow and got a scathingly good idea. He grabbed it and flung it across the room, hurdling towards Saiko. She took a step back to get out of the way and instead the pillow hit Luigi, sending him flying right into the wall.

Bob noticed and grabbed a grenade launcher from out of his bag. "BRO IT'S ON!" Normally Four would come and join his friends in their shenanigans, but he just couldn't shake that awful feeling from his mind, even if Mario had cheered him up a little. Saiko could see Four's uneasiness and went over to Three. She whispered to him "I think you should go check on him." He looks up to her and then to Four. Raising an eyebrow, he asks "Why would I do that?"

She sighed and said "Your the only one who knows what he's going through." Saiko wasn't wrong. He was the one to give Four the idea of the perfect video in the first place. He even admitted back there that he felt the same way when he had control of the channel. Not just that, but he also told Four he would always be there for him so it was kinda his responsibility to take care of that moron.

"Alright fine." Just then, an explosion sent Saiko crashing onto the ground. She got up with furry in her eyes to find Bob, holding a grenade launcher and Meggy beside him with a pillow. They both shared a glance with each other and quickly hid their items behind their backs. Both of them pointed at the other and said

"It was him!"

"IT WAS HER!"

Saiko took out her hammer and started swinging violently, causing both of them to duck out of the way. Bob's eyes began to turn red from anger and he started launching missiles everywhere while Meggy took out her splatshot gun and fired ink in a bunch of directions. Three got up, placing Eggdog down and said "OI! Stop fighting!" Nobody listened to him as the pillow fight was escalating immensely. 

Melony had fallen asleep already in her sleeping bag and Tari was using her's to hide. Beeg had managed to squeeze out of Four's grasp and he and Eggdog went to go hide somewhere. A grenade was heading straight for them, but Boopkins quickly scooped them up and ran around the room screaming. Three just watched and facepalmed himself. "God why did I agree to hang out with these losers." 

Four was still curled up, burying his face in his knees. That was it. Three had reached his breaking point when he could see that this was not helping Four at all. "EVERYONE SHUT UP! YOU'RE MAKING FOUR FEEL WORSE!" Everyone froze in place and teleported to their sleeping bags while everything else had been instantly cleaned up. Meggy was the first to regret her actions. "Sorry about that Four. We didn't mean to stress you out." He poked his head out from the curled position and muttered "It's fine Meggy. I'm alright."

Tari got the courage to mention another option in mind. "How about we play some monopoly instead." She went to go get the game out of the storage room while everyone else agreed. Three knew that Four was lying so he said "You guys start. I'm going to talk privately with Four." Mario got a smug grin. "Ooooo is Smg3 and Smg4 going to make sweet love in there?" 

Three blushes furiously and punched Mario. "MAMA!" Four was a tad confused. "Huh. But-" Before he could get another word in, Three grabbed his hand and dragged him towards his room. Once he shut the door he turned towards Four. "Look. I know you were lying back there." Four tried to cover it up by putting on a fake smile and laughing nervously. "What do you mean? I'm fine."

"No you're not. I can tell that you're stressed and overthinking things. Is this about the nightmares?" No use in pretending now. Three knew him too well. "It just feels like someone is out to get me y'know. I can hear their voice in my head, even when I'm awake." Three's expression softens a little while Four's breathing speeds up. "I just can't shake off these bad memories and if I get taken over again I could hurt someone and-"

"Four. Slow down." He didn't listen and kept rambling on. "And I'm worried that no one forgives me for what I did and they all hate me-" Three tried to calm him down. "Four would you just-"

"IT JUST HAS TO BE PERFECT!!!" Four breaks down and starts sobbing uncontrollably. "SMG4! WOULD YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME!" Four stops from his breakdown to look into Three's red ruby eyes. He was softly holding Four's hand and rubbing his finger to calm him down. "I understand you feel that way, but remember what I said?" Four nods while Three wipes the tears off his face. "No matter what you make, we will always be here to have fun and laugh together."

The two stand in silence for a while till Four speaks up. "I know. I'm just scared it will happen again..." Three lets go of his hand, disappointed. "I understand if you need some space. I'll just leave you alone if that's what you want." He leaves the room to go join the others, abandoning Four to be by himself. Why did he just let Three leave like that? Should he have said something differently? Now he was even more hurt. Letting this whole situation affect his friends like that. They were all having a great time till he ruined it all.

He went back into the hall to sit back down. "Oh Four you're back!" Meggy piped up. "Three told us you want some space. You're still welcome to play with us if you'd like." This time Four wouldn't say a word as he just shook his head and faced the other way. He could hear his friends laughing and having a good time behind him. He wouldn't interfere this time. He wouldn't spoil it for them. They deserved to be happy.

You don't deserve that happiness...Not after what you did...

Chapter 3: Nightmares Come True

#smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #smg4 mario #smg4 melony #smg4 meggy #angst #smg4 smg3 #luigi #smg4 tari #smg4 x smg3 #its gotta be perfect #love confessions #nightmare #scary #tv adware #tumblr fyp

[adiduck]

WIP Wednesday

A big thank you to @corvineheart, who very gamely picked this snip for me to post today when I whined that I couldn't decide. <3 Operation Groundhog AU. Teeny bit of Ice and Mav in the beginning and then some Bradley today!

Penny Benjamin comes out of the Hard Deck eventually--and isn’t that just the weirdest fucking thing; Maverick hasn’t talked to her yet, he doesn’t really know what to say and isn’t sure what they’ve told her about a random Maverick and Iceman from 1986 wandering around--and chats with the Captain. Then she goes back in and comes out with a cooler of beer, and the team breaks to go fight over their preferred poison.

“Shitty domestic beer?” Ice asks, and Maverick flips him off.

“I’m good. Maybe there’s a Smirnoff lemon or something in there for you.”

Ice laughs, and leaves to go wade in. Maverick watches the madness for a moment and then turns to sit just outside the tide, watching the surf. It’s a nice moment--sun and sand and the smell of the sea; a bubble of quiet in a day that’s been just jam packed with people.

Maverick doesn’t look up when he hears the crunch of approaching footsteps.

“Hey,” Bradley says, and Maverick nearly jumps out of his skin. “Mind if I sit?”

Maverick looks up at him, eyebrows definitely at his hairline. “Sure! Don’t own the beach. Pull up some sand.” He reaches over and pats the shore next to him.

Bradley snorts, and sits, letting out a huff as he stretches his legs out. The water comes up to his ankles when the tide comes in, washing away some of the sand on his heels.

“Did you just groan?” Maverick asks, grinning. “What are you, thirty-five? Your bones bothering you already, Bradshaw?”

Bradley snorts. “Thirty-seven,” he says.

“Goddamn, you’re thirteen years older than me,” Maverick says. “That is weird.”

Bradley chuckles again. “You’re telling me,” he says, and turns back to the surf again.

Maverick watches him for a moment, hesitating--not sure what to say next. Finally, he sighs and turns back to the surf himself. This is kind of nice. Bradley’s been friendly enough, but he hasn’t really wanted to hang out, and Maverick’s been doing his best to temper his disappointment. This is already pretty nice.

“Hey, Maverick, can I ask you something?” Bradley asks, a bit out of the blue.

Maverick doesn’t let himself react any way but casually. “Sure, what’s up?”

Bradley’s mouth twists. “Bit of a weird question. What makes someone not cut out to be a pilot? Or at least, not ready?”

Maverick frowns. “This about Hangman’s bullshit?” he asks. “Because you’re a great pilot, Rooster. Only one here besides me and Ice who’ve even finished the course.”

Bradley huffs a laugh, a strange smile flitting over his face. “You heard the Captain,” he says. “Too slow’s still not good enough.”

Maverick shrugs. “Too slow means you’re dogfighting fighters your plane wasn’t built to match,” he agrees. “Those’re still better odds than a missile to the fuselage. Don’t take it personally, it’s his job to scare the shit out of us until we do better. He threw my old man and--” he cuts himself off.

“And mine,” Bradley says. “It’s alright.”

Maverick shuts his eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “My old man and Goose. Threw them in my face. That’s what that little song and dance about ‘your team is dead because you didn’t make the right call, you want to watch Ice’s family wonder what happened to their son as the rest of the world decides he’s a traitor’ was about. It’s his job! It’s not personal. Well.” He gives Bradley a grimace of a smile. “With me it might be a bit. You know. Weird situation.”

Bradley snorts again and shakes his head. “So what makes someone not cut out to be a pilot?” he asks again.

“Still don’t think that’s what that was about,” Maverick mutters, but he stops and thinks about it. “...Honestly… I… not having taken the licensing exam?”

Bradley cracks up.

“Hey,” Maverick says, and shoves him a bit. “You asked! I don’t know, I think anyone could probably learn to fly, really, and there’re actually really clear guidelines set out--”

Bradley snorts again. “Sure, Mav,” he says, and gets to his feet, still snickering. He holds a hand out. “Here, you want a beer?”

Maverick looks up at him, and then down at the hand. He takes it, lets Bradley haul him to his feet. “Sure,” he says, grinning. “Lead the way. I’ll see if I can come up with a better answer.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bradley says. “I think maybe it’s the wrong question. Or the wrong person to ask.”

Maverick frowns. “If you say so,” he says slowly.

“I do,” Bradley says. “Let’s get that beer.”

#wip wednesday #adi is a writer #icemav #wip snippet #Bradley is Not Subtle #fortunately for him Mav has no context for what the fuck he is asking