#I bought it on clearance a while ago

[doolallymagpie]

Oh yeah, painted Thalia Kirst 3.0 a while ago. Need to locate a Necromunda 32mm for her, though.

Also, debuting my “Nyfarran Underhive” terrain. If this kit only sees use as photo backdrops, totally worth it.

Next to the mini based much more closely on her original inspiration, for fun.

#I bought it on clearance a while ago #warhammer 40000 #thalia kirst #thalia kirst dalek killer #tau empire #t’au #imperial guard #astra militarum #kasrkin #whohammer #dalek imperium

[ejzah]

Got inspired after watching the early season 1 episode, Past Lives. Could you write a fanfic where based on previous experiences, Kensi doesn't like flowers, but finally she starts to love them again when she begins to fall in love with Deeks.

I Hope He Buys You Flowers

***

February 2011

“What the hell is this?” Kensi demanded, upon walking into the bullpen and finding a light pink rose with a fine spray of baby’s-breath surrounding it.

In Kensi’s opinion, gifts of flowers never meant anything good. They were for apologies. For illness and death.

The house had been filled with flowers, buckets and wreaths and vases of the things when her dad died. When she was 19, her boyfriend before she met Jack gave her flowers and then she found out he liked another girl. She’d brought them to a few friends who were sick, or colleagues injured enough to land a stay in the hospital.

Flower gardens of course were an entirely different matter. She loved the idea of growing daisies, and moss roses, dahlias, and had even attempted to grow a few of her favorites in the past with predictably disastrous results.

Being give flowers though? No, she wasn’t really a fan. Especially when they were laying on her desk.

“No idea,” Callen answered her, sounding amused as she gingerly picked the little covering up between two fingers. “It was here when I came in.” Sam just shook his head.

“The flowers are courtesy of your favorite LAPD liaison,” Deeks announced grandly, coming from the direction of the stairs.

“You bought me a rose,” Kensi repeated.

“Yeah, and Nell and Hetty.” He tilted his head towards Callen and Sam. “Sorry, I didn’t get you guys any, cause I thought you might find it weird.”

“And we appreciate that,” Sam said.

Kensi sighed, already over the banter. “Ok, that still doesn’t answer the why. You know I hate flowers.”

“Valentine’s Day,” Deeks answered simply, like it was perfectly obvious.

“Which was two days ago,” Kensi reminded him.

“Yeah, and now everything is on clearance, flowers included. I always grab a few.” Deeks grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I might even share my Fannie Mae stash if you’re nice.”

“So, you just did this to be nice?” It was a foreign concept, especially when most gifts came with expectations.

“Pretty much,” Deeks said. “But you don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to.”

“No.” Kensi twirled the stem of the rose between her fingers, watching the colors swirl. “It’s ok. Thanks.”

***

July 2012

It had been a sucky, sucky birthday. Their case had run late, requiring Kensi to go undercover in a slinky dress and seduce a complete ass of a guy when all she really wanted to do was go home, eat store bought cake and zone out on Top Model.

She kicked off her shoes as she walked into her apartment, one landing somewhere under the couch, and she tugged her shirt off, leaving her in jeans and a tank top. That movement tweaked her strained ribs, because of course she’d gotten into an altercation with one of the armed guards at her would-be seductee’s mansion.

Thank god Deeks had been there to back her up. Instead of a bullet in the head, she’d come out with mildly bruised ribs and a sore hip. Which still seemed like a poor birthday present.

It would probably be smart to soak in a warm bath for a while, but that seemed like a lot of effort and Kensi was feeling decidedly sorry for herself. Heading straight into the kitchen, she scrounged up a personal frozen pizza—which was only a little frost burnt—a beer, and the rest of a container of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Carting all of her bounty back into the living room, she tossed it on the coffee table, she turned on the TV and scrolled through the channels. None of her go-to mindless shows were on, so she settled on some procedural that was a little slow paced and way too dramatic instead.

The doorbell rang just as she was about to take a bite of her pizza. Growling under her breath, Kensi pushed herself off the couch with a groan, intent on making the person on the other side of the door regret coming to her apartment.

She looked through the window, frowning when she found no one there, and only an unassuming brown paper bag on the top step. She opened the door cautiously, regarding the bag suspiciously until she found a little note card stapled to the top of the bag.

“Happy birthday, Kensalina. Sorry it wasn’t better,” it read on Deeks’ familiar handwriting.

Rolling her eyes, Kensi carried bag inside, clearing a spot on the table. She pulled out a bouquet of flowers, speckled lilies and small purple roses in the mix, a tiny stuffed koala, and underneath that, a slide of the best looking chocolate cake she’d ever seen.

She set each item on the table and surveyed them with a smile creeping at her lips despite everything. Deeks annoyed the hell out of her sometimes, but then there were times like tonight when he seemed to know exactly what she needed.

Bypassing her now cooled pizza, she popped open the plastic container and dug into the cake.

“Oh my god,” she muttered around a mouthful. Deeks would have a field day over her reaction if he were here. She savored each bite, her eyes drifting over to the bouquet several times.

Maybe flowers weren’t the worst thing in the world.

***

April 2013

“Deeks, pay attention,” Kensi snapped, nudging his shoulder, and interrupting his examination of a leather vest.

“I am,” he protested in a low, unconcerned tone, casting a slow, unassuming look around the market they were casing. To anyone watching, it would hopefully look like he was scoping out which stall he’d go to next.

“You know I like to blend in. We’re supposed to look like a couple enjoying an afternoon shopping.” As if to prove his point, he held up a particularly garish pair of high heels. She pushed them away with an amused grimace.

He continued on his way, easily balancing checking out the wares, chatting with the vendors, and keeping an eye on their surroundings. She admired him for a few seconds, lingering on the way he rested one hand on his hip, one leg extended to the side.

Now was not the time for ogling, she reminded herself. They were on the job. And Deeks would never let her live it down if he realized she was checking him out.

Moving on, she paused in front of a sunglasses stall, fiddling with a few random pairs while she watched a man edging his way through the crowd.

“You got something?” Deeks murmured, silently coming up behind her. He looped his arm around her waist, leaning into her side.

“Just a pickpocket,” Kensi replied. “We’ll have to notify the local security once this is over.” She should have found a reason to call pull away, but instead, she let Deeks lead her back into the main road between stalls, her hand resting on his lower back.

“Here.” Deeks held up a flower with a bluish-purple hue. “It’s not a fern, but it’s the best I could do.”

Kensi took it, taking a deep sniff. It had a light, pleasant smell.

“When did you have time to get this?”

“There’s a little stall over there. The lady grows them all herself.”

Kensi shook her head; of course he’d made friends with the flower lady.

“You know, we’re not actually here to buy stuff,” Kensi said.

“It would look weird if we didn’t.” Deeks eyed her briefly, something playful and definitely not professional flashing in his gaze. “Besides, it matches your top.”

A small rush of pleasure that he’d notice ran through her. For a moment, she wished that they weren’t in the middle of a case, and actually on a date. She pushed that thought down, passing the flower under her nose again.

“You know, flowers aren’t so bad after all,” she said told Deeks as they walked arm-in-arm.

***

A/N: I hope this was alright. I know I didn’t cover the whole length of Kensi and Deeks’ relationship, but I was drawn to start early on.

Title take from the Bruno Mars song “When I was Your Man”.

Thanks for the prompt!

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #pre densi #fluff #prompt #ejzah fanfiction

[blazehedgehog]

Was there much merchandise for Sonic in the toy section when you were a kid?

Barely any. Until 2017, the only Sonic merchandise I can ever remember seeing was:

These Sonic and Tails plushes. They're pretty "big", which is a definition I use to mean they are bigger than, say, the average claw machine plush. We'll say about a foot tall, maybe a bit bigger. I have both, packed away in a box somewhere.

The Sonic 3 McDonalds toys, obviously. I had Sonic, Tails and Knuckles but I think I ended up getting Robotnik off Ebay at some point in the mid-2000's.

This Sonic gumball toy. Basically the closest thing we ever got to a proper Sonic action figure. Sonic's quills on the back of his head comes off, which is where the candy was kept. The whole figure is hard plastic, but the nose is soft rubber, which has a habit of getting torn off (or even just rotting away, since its getting old enough). Mine still has his nose.

And honestly... that was it. There was a big gap from 1993/1994 all the way until the Resaurus and Toy Island Sonic Adventure figures in 1999/2000. By then I was starting high school, meaning my "kid status" was rapidly evaporating.

(I had Sonic from Resaurus and Eggman from Toy Island).

I think right around that time, Denny's, of all people, had small Sonic Underground plushes.

I believe my girlfriend at the time got me Sonic and my brother ended up getting me Knuckles.

Then, for seventeen years, these were the last Sonic toys I ever saw. Now, there were Sonic toys out there -- I believe in the early 2010's there were RC cars based on the Sega All-Stars Racing games, and there were apparently Sonic Generations figures in 2011. No store I visited ever stocked them. They may as well have not existed.

When Sega launched Sonic Boom in 2014, they made a deal with TOMY to create Sonic Boom toys. It was a big deal. Part of the cross-media machine Sega was cooking up. Problem was, they were exclusive to Toys 'R' Us. There wasn't any Toys 'R' Us where I lived -- I had to travel two towns over to find one. So again, I never saw any.

It wasn't until 2017, when we moved from Colorado to Nevada, and we stopped in at the Reno Toys 'R' Us that I ended up seeing Sonic Boom merch for the first time. They were all shoved off on an endcap like they were clearance.

I ended up buying a set of 25th Anniversary toys there.

A better picture of them out of the box with the Eggman and Mecha Sonic figures friends bought me a year and a half ago (they're almost the correct scale to each other!):

Toys 'R' Us shut down in America early the next year (2018) and TOMY's exclusivity deal with them didn't matter anymore. That felt like it threw open the flood gates and Sonic merch is everywhere now.

Edit: while digging for the final photo, I happened to find this, which I took in 2019 or so, showing my Sonic Gumball toy, plus the Knuckles and Robotnik McDonalds toys sitting next to some Mario Party 2 pencil toppers I got out of a capsule machine in 2007.

#questions #Anonymous #sonic the hedgehog #sega #sonic team #Resaurus #Toy Island #TOMY #Jakk's Pacific #Sonic Boom #Denny's #Sonic Underground

[icewazowski]

REQUIEM [Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley]

01| Bolivia

18+ MDNI!!!!!

cw: canon typical violence, smut, no protection used, semi-public sex, dominant simon riley, degrading, power play, size kink.

an: tall man in a skull mask goes crazy after he sees you for the first time in two years

Crowds gathered in the streets of La Paz for the annual Día de los Muertos parades. They wore skull masks, some were caricatures of what a skull was supposed to anatomically appear to be, whereas others adorned sugar skull murals painted across their faces as they paid respects. It was, definitely, one of the most beautiful celebrations I had ever witnessed internationally. I admired how they took the time to remember and respect their dead in a manner that wasn't depressing and as solemn as other countries did.

A float with a giant skeleton sat atop it appeared on the brow of the hill, and I noticed the little shack at the back of it. That's where I needed to be. I observed the crowds for a few more minutes, and then looked down at my outfit.

While it wasn't wholly practical, it helped me fit in. The plum dress reached just above my knees as I walked down the steps, the material was cinched at my waist by a black, leather corset, and the dress exposed my shoulders as the neckline was straight across my shoulders. My hair was half-up and half down as it flowed across my back, hiding the tattoo which traipsed down my spine, and I wore a half skull mask over my eyes. The sugar skull design was one I'd bought from a stall I'd passed a few hours ago, the enchanting woman had offered it across to me, referring to me as Gringa, the last thing Alejandro had once called me two years prior.

Since then, I had been working for the Americans, specifically, the Marines on a top-secret reconnaissance mission, one which only people with the highest level of clearance were privy to. I, along with two other Marines, had been tasked with intelligence gathering regarding a female SAS operator who was rumoured to be in the country. Her name was Sarah Smith, a boring name if you ask me, and she looked as boring as her name. Nothing about her profile screamed killer, and part of me wondered as I read over the file, if she was my fucking replacement. But, as I checked her skills, it just confirmed it. They wasted no time whatsoever in replacing me, and I hoped that I'd be able to return back. Though, as the months turned into years, I didn't really want to go back.

I'd settled into the 'States nicely, made some good friends, made some even better friends with benefits, and my previous life did not exist, as far as I was concerned. No one asked me about it, because none of them cared. Don't dwell on the past, sort of thing. I also had a dog now, one that I'd named Simpson, after Alex, and I wondered how his dog was doing, if he'd renamed it after finding out about what happened. Or what Ghost thought had happened.

Speaking of Ghost, he didn't exist, either. Our intelligence on him was non-existent, and we had intelligence on everyone and everything that breathed. But Ghost's file was blank, as though it never existed. I wondered if my SAS file was empty now, or if I was on some briefing item to gain intel on so that they could organise a plan to have me executed. Either way, I didn't care. Working alone was great, I liked the freedom it gave me. The only real downside was not being able to have someone watch your back, but that was something that I remedied by being on alert at all times, sure it was fucking exhausting, but I made it work.

The crowd of people walked towards me, as I trudged through them. My hand clasped my purse tight to my side, the firearm and mobile inside were heavy, but they were my only insurance here. I didn't know where the other two Marines were, and I only had a photo of either of them. If it went tits up, badly, then I had a mobile number I could text, and they'd descend on my position as though I'd just offered them oil or something.

I wrapped my hands around the railing at the rear of the float, and clambered onto the slowly moving vehicle. Día de los Muertos was the perfect place for a ghost to hide, and I fit right in. My body moved to the shack, where I was supposed to be meeting the contact at... well, right now. I shoved the door open, and was met with a man in a suit, his back was to me as he looked out the window to the people who followed the float.

"Scarecrow?" I asked him the code-word, for some reason, someone decided to make it Batman villain themed, and so the answer I was expecting was another character.

He turned to face me, "Bane." he responded, and gestured across to one of the two chairs in the room. I took the one closest to the door, and slumped down into it. When he sat in the chair I took in his appearance. A burnt orange dress shirt, one that had been rolled up at the arms to reveal two heavily tattooed arms, sat across his broad chest, and I tried not to stare at the scar on the left-hand side of his jaw which peeped from beneath the skull mask he wore. It was one of those masks you'd see airsoft players wearing, a tactical, angry looking skull mask. He wore jeans, the well fitting pair of denim clung to his muscular thighs, and he looked like the sort of person you wouldn't want to mess with, not in a million years.

He pulled his chair before me, and his hazel eyes looked oddly familiar. Or maybe he just had those sorts of eyes people recognised. "Do you have what I want?" he asked me, and the moment he spoke more than one word, was the moment my eyes subtly widened and my heart-rate sped up. He didn't realise it was me, as far as he knew, I was dead, and I'd died with him hating me.

I rifled through my bag until I found the thumb-drive, and I placed it in my open palm across for him, my bag returned to my lap, and hitched my skirt up. "Here it is, now, you hold up your end of the bargain." I responded, and disbelief crossed his face. One that said, it can't be her, she's deadbut didn't quite believe it. He pulled the side of his blazer open, and his hand dipped into the silk material. He pulled free another thumb-drive and handed it across to me. "I best get going,"

The necklace around my neck burned as I stood up, and I couldn't believe that I was stood in front of Ghost, and that I still had my necklace on, the one thing most people could identify me by. As I moved to the door, his hand encased my wrist, "What, and I don't get to see your face first?" he asked threateningly. He knew, he definitely knew. I felt the bruise appear in my wrist, and I managed to yank it free before I set off in a sprint out of the shack.

My feet hit unsteady ground when I launched myself into the crowd, and I set off into a side-street with him following me further into the alleyway. I couldn't let him know it was me, I just couldn't let him confirm it, because God knows what sort of target I'd be putting on myself if he relayed the message to other soldiers, to Laswell, I'd be done for. The bounty on my head would be exponential as I knew the ins and outs of how the SAS worked. I knew more than what they wanted me to know, and if the information got into the wrong hands, there'd be a war.

I vaulted through an open window, and trod on floral displays from within the interior of the family home, luckily no one was in, and I ran through the front door into the street filled with people. The growing crowd was good, it would provide me camouflage to escape from the man who'd want me dead or arrested. My pace slowed to a brisk walk, and my collar bones heaved with every shallow, exerted breath I took. I noticed a lone child, and held her hand as I walked alongside her in the street parade.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw him burst through the door, the mask scanned everywhere, and I knew he'd seen me. He set off into a sprint, his legs moved quicker than I think I'd ever seen the gangly fucker move, and he shoved people to the side to get to me. Sweat coated his neck and prickled at his armpits as he forced his way through the crowd, and I wasted no time in shoving the small child out of the way of the bulldozer that was Simon Riley.

No one seemed to care that he was chasing me, and I knew better than anyone how to cause a panic. My hand wrapped around my pistol in my purse, and I aimed it upwards to the sky before I pulled the trigger three times. And, it fucking worked. The crowd dispersed in a flurry of fear as they star busted in different directions into the night, their eyes were cast to the sky as fireworks exploded, and I pushed my way through to a nearby back alley.

This mission, was supposed to be simple. A matter of getting in, trade the device, and then fucking leave. It was not supposed to end up with me being chased through a Capital City during one of the busiest and most populated days of the year. But, like always, things never went to plan for me, and I had to think of an exit strategy. The roofs.

My legs pushed onwards, now completely healed from the trauma I had endured, and I approached the darkened alley. No light shone from inside it, and it got me wondering if it was a dead end, yet another place for me to be trapped as Simon Riley got what he wanted once a-fucking-gain. I couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't take my pride, not this time.

As I sprinted through the alley, my fears were confirmed, it was a dead end. Shit. I looked around so quick I nearly broke my neck, and his footsteps were fast approaching and I was running out of time. I need more time.

There was a fire escape above me, one that I could reach if I used the nearby windowsill to propel myself from, and I made the attempt. My body swung free, and my hands gripped the bottom of the fire escape, but I was too late. Simon's tattooed arms wrapped around my waist as he tackled me to the ground. Landing hard on the cobbles, I laid on my back as I watched the fireworks explode in the sky, which was quickly replaced by the mask he wore, until he pulled it from his face.

His knees were planted either side of my hips as he straddled my smaller frame with his excruciatingly large one, his entire weight was on my middle as I was left with no idea of how to get out from under him. Sure, I'd been trained in it, but the minute my eyes met his through my mask, I couldn't find it in myself to get free. Where would I even go? It's not like I could run around all night with a titan chasing me, I'd tire out before he did, and we both knew that. And, if I hid anywhere, he'd fucking find me. He's got a taste of me, and now he's practically a blood hound.

His hands were either side of my head, and he leant down to get a better look at me whilst my chest burned for air in the dress I wore. I hadn't even realised it had been dragged down to just above my bra until his eyes flitted to my cleavage, the sheen of sweat making them look more desirable than without the added moisture. "Take it off." he said, his voice commanding as he puffed for air.

My eyes stared back at him blankly. I slowly blinked, "The dress?" I replied cockily.

"The mask. Take it off, Spencer." He spat my name out like it had caused a bad taste to bloom across his tastebuds. He didn't wait for a reply, because he just removed it himself and threw it down onto the cobbled behind me. "You're supposed to be dead,"

I averted my eyes from his, "Don't call me that," I brushed off the use of my name, and I couldn't bring myself to look at him. As much as he hated me, I grew to dislike him. I thought I meant more to him than when he'd just left my body there as he perceived me to be dead. I thought he cared for me, and you don't walk away from people you care for unless they are literally six feet under the earth.

"You're supposed to be dead," he repeated.

Without thinking, I brought my legs up so they were bent at the knee and thrusted his weight upwards, which caused him to brace himself against me using his arms. My fist came down hard on the interior angle of his elbow, and folded his balance to one side before I rolled the other way and onto all fours. I started to run again, but he pounced on me, his arms wrapped around my ankles, and I landed hard on the ground. "Well," I started, out of breath as I was winded, "It is Día de los Muertos," I told him.

He tugged my body so that I was laid nearly completely under his, "Everyone thinks you died." Ghost said. His breath was hot on my ear, and I found that familiar feeling burrow into my abdomen as I wanted to give myself to him on a platter. But I still strongly disliked him. He must be at least 34 by now, depending on when his birthday was. I'd lost four months in that coma, and yet Ghost didn't give a shit to even bother make it up. And then we lost two years when he decided to leave me to die alone. "Kyle was inconsolable," he added, and I knew what he was trying to do.

The words pierced through the feeling of lust, and the blade of his words twisted in my stomach. I brought my elbow backwards into his ribs, "Don't you dare bring Kyle into this." I growled. His body shifted to the side as he now laid on his back, and I wasted no time in mounting him. He was built like a tree trunk, to the point where I couldn't properly straddle him because my knees wouldn't reach the ground on both sides. I felt something hard rub against my inner thigh, and I bit back the airy gasp that threatened to escape my lips, "You left me to die!" I accused.

"Because you fucking betrayed me." his brows were furrowed, and I could map out his entire face by memory at this point, not that I would though, because I didn't want to remember the moment when we'd been close enough to do this. "You don't get to twist this around and make me the bad guy,"

His arms were either side of him, and I grappled with him until they were above his head in my grip, "I did what I had to do so that you could all survive!" my voice was raised as my body was nearly flush with his. My breasts brushed against his tight chest, and I guarantee he could probably see them in full if he looked hard enough, "You don't understand what I did that day."

"Other than kill your fiancé in cold blood?" he asked, and bucked his hips beneath me.

I sighed at the feeling of his body on mine, his hard length pressed into the place I wanted him most, "Ex-Fiancé." I corrected him, and tried to readjust my position so as to not work myself up and fall into the clutches of fucking him. "Speaking of exes, I guess since you want to fuck Sarah, we're officially over."

His eyes hardened, and he moved his body so that his erection was pressed against my clothed cunt once again, "We're not over." he stated coldly. I let go of his wrists for a second, but a second was longer than what he needed, because he managed to roll over until his legs were between mine and I was pressed to the floor under him. His eyes were dark now, and he looked as though he was about to stab me right here and now, "You're mine." he growled.

I expected a knife to plunge into my ribs, but instead, Ghost rolled his hips into mine, the friction caused my eyes to roll backwards slightly at the thought of how turned on we both were from this whole arguing and mutual-hatred thing we had ongoing, "Sir," I whined, completely out of habit. My eyes checked the alley for any lingering people, but found the streets to be empty as the night crawled in and the midnight hour dawned on us.

"Louder," he commanded, and rolled his hips into mine again, "I want the locals to hear you,"

His hand wrapped gently around my throat as his other held his bodyweight from crushing me completely, his hips rolled into mine again, and the seam of his jeans hit the nervous bud of pleasure at the apex of my cunt in a way that made me feral, "Ghost!" I gasped loudly. Wetness pooled from between my legs and soaked my underwear at the friction he was causing the pair of us to endure. I just wanted him, and then I wanted him gone.

Ghost hitched my dress up until the hem of it sat across my stomach and my lower half was completely visible. I couldn't believe we were doing this in the middle of an alleyway, where anyone could walk up and see this explicit display of dominance from the man I once loved and now despised. He withdrew himself from me, his eyes trailed down my body until he stared right at the slick which coated my underwear, "You're so fucking wet, baby." the words he spoke ingrained on my brain, and only added to the wetness between my legs, "You have no idea how much I need you," he mumbled loud enough for me to hear, and I could see him as he ran his hand along the tent in his jeans.

I pulled my dress back down and pulled my legs up in front of my chest, "You infuriate me." I said, exasperated. "You fucking left me to die alone, you abandoned me!" I yelled. Luckily, there was no one nearby, otherwise he'd end up spending a night in a cell whilst I answered questions from the Bolivian Police. "You let me bleed out, without giving a shit." I confronted, and went to slap him.

Instead, he caught my wrist with ease, "Only because you sided with Graves!" he argued back, "I sat there doused in petrol whilst you fucked him in front of me," he accused, and I had to laugh at the audacity of what he'd just said.

"Oh yeah? Did it get you all worked up watching someone else touch me?" I played along with the idea in his head, and I knew he would want to tear my throat out by the time this whole thing was over, there was no way he wouldn't, "Knowing you were all tied up whilst my ex-fiancé claimed what was his?

He shoved me backwards, and I landed on my back again. The cobbles were uncomfortable underneath my spine, and I noticed how many stars there were tonight in the sky. There must have been tonnes more that what I saw in Virginia. Ghost crawled atop of me, his body encased mine as he towered over me with his large stature. I couldn't decide if I wanted to let in to my deepest desires and fuck him right here, in the middle of an alleyway, or if I wanted to push him off me and carry on arguing.

His thumb pressed against my eyebrow, which had collided into the floor as I fell, and he brought it away, slick with crimson blood. He didn't bother to look at it as he brought it to his lips and sucked on the digit, tasting the liquid which flowed throughout me. I couldn't believe this, it felt so... bizarre. And, when he pulled his thumb away, he lowered his lips to the cut, the soft pillowy surface wrapped around the wound, and he sucked gently.

Whilst uncertain about what the fuck this was that was happening, and whether or not this was some weird hallucination, I moaned. Ghost's knee was pressed against my cunt, and I didn't even realise what I was doing until he pointed it out, "Such a pretty whore, look at you getting off on my thigh," he practically purred, and it was a sound I hadn't heard Ghost make, like ever. But I couldn't complain, because the way he did it made me rut my cunt into his jeans even more.

I whimpered as the friction built up, the wetness had saturated the material between my cunt and his thighs, which made the rubbing against him a whole lot easier, "Touch me, please," I whined at him.

A wicked smirk crossed his lips as he heard the start of my begs, oh how I'd played into his hand. In fact, I was practically eating whatever he fed me, I was blindly succumbing to his advances despite promising myself I would no longer approach him, no longer think of him, and move the fuck on. But I couldn't, and I hated myself for even wanting to fuck him, and to beg him to touch me? Jesus Christ, I wasn't fooling anyone. "Beg for me, baby," he groaned at the friction I caused between us.

Rather than give in so easily, I pulled my breasts free of the dress I wore, and pinched my already hardened nipples, the pink buds of nerves twinged something deep inside me, and ignited a dangerously hot lust inside my body, one that only Simon 'Ghost' Riley could put out. "Please, touch me sir, I need you so bad," I whined, my brain cringed in its lust-hazed state that I'd even dare to say something like that to a man who'd left me bleeding out.

"Good girl," he said, and I felt him remove himself from where I wanted to grind against. Instead, he pulled my underwear down, and pulled his own jeans down so that his hairy thigh was exposed into the night sky. He wore black boxers, as always, and they strained against his erection which looked painfully hard right now. He discarded my underwear to the side and looked at my glistening cunt, the glaze on it reflected in the light of the fireworks which still burst into the night, "I only want you, Fury," he said, and I thought back to this boring Sarah chick. The thought of someone else claiming him as theirs sickened me.

His thumb pressed into my clit, the feeling of added pressure made sounds of pleasure escape my lips, "You can only have me," I warned him. He drew sloppy, lazy circles into the bundle of nerves, and brought his meaty thigh back into contact with my cunt, "I'm the only one you need." I told him through half lidded eyes as I tried to maintain a rhythm against his

"When I'm fucking her, all I can think about is you," he grunted as I clenched my dripping hole on nothing. He sped up the movements of his thumb, the angles it cast across the bundle of nerves was more precise, more deadly as he worked in tight circles. If I wasn't so painfully enjoying this, I would be pissed off. Sure, I'd had my fair share of one night stands, but that's all they were. They didn't mean anything to me, they just satisfied a need, and after they'd given me that, they were gone. It never extended past one night.

I thought about my contact in the Metropolitan Police, if she knew about her. I wanted to ruin Sarah smith until she was dishonestly discharged for whatever the fuck I could find on her. Hell, if she had a parking offence she hadn't declared on her history checks, I would run her into the ground with it until she cried her eyes out and begged for a bullet.

My breath hitched in my throat as my orgasm built, "You are the bane of my existence," I told him.

Our bodies were dangerously close now. He towered over me, his face looked down at me whilst I laid looking up, his hands had encased my hips, and I could see the way his pupils dilated when he looked at me. My core begged for him in a way I hadn't desired someone in years. I wanted him inside me, I wanted to fuck him until my mind went blank, but at the same time he was so infuriating. And to think, after all this he'd return to Sarah as though nothing had happened.

He didn't say a word, instead his lips met mine in an angry, passionate kiss as he sought to reinstate the dominance he once felt. His hand was on the back of my neck and pulled me into his face, and I couldn't just stay on my back, so, instead, I sat up on my elbows, and allowed him to close the distance between us. Now, his length was pushed directly against my clothed entrance, and he ground down into me to work both of us up.

I moaned against him, my mind cast backwards to the last time we'd been intimate, how it was the same night I'd been awarded my Victoria Cross and my promotion, and now I was legally dead. "Sir," I moaned into his lips, the sound muted as he forced his tongue into my mouth. The muscle invaded my privacy, it forced its way into my mouth and fought my own tongue for dominance whilst he continued to roll his hips into mine.

A blinding daze crashed into my body as my orgasm hit, and my eyes rolled back into my head whilst he continued his circles. I couldn't think straight, and I didn't even attempt to silence my cries of pleasure, not even when Ghost said, "Such a pathetic whore," to me.

I whimpered into him, my arms held me up as I allowed him to touch me in ways I hadn't been touched in so long. He dipped his middle finger into my entrance, and plunged it deep inside of me. The lewd sounds of my juices coating his fingers was enough to cause a blush to creep up on my face as I breathlessly moaned.

He rocked his fingers into me, and it felt painfully claustrophobic, "You're so tight," he observed and continued to pump the digits in and out of my heat. I felt the muscles contract around him, clenching against his fingers as they built up to my premature second orgasm. And to think, I hadn't even seen his cock yet.

When I was close to my second orgasm, Ghost withdrew his fingers and watched as my hole clenched down around nothing, "So needy," he patronised, "You're clenching around nothing,"his voice was deviously low as he mocked me. I tilted my chin down, embarrassed that he'd even point that out, "Look at me when I talk to you," he said, his hands slicked with my pleasure tilted my chin upwards, and he popped his saturated thumb into my mouth, "Taste yourself," he instructed. And I did exactly that, my eyes constantly on him as I lapped every last bit of my taste from his digit.

He used his other hand to free his swelling cock from his boxers, the length sprung free and stood extended from him. I'd forgotten how big it actually was, how the girth had made my holes feel the morning after he'd fucked me for the first time, how I'd walked with a limp for a good day and a half.

My mouth watered, and he removed his thumb from my mouth, "Can I ride you?" I asked him as innocently as I possibly could. The moment I said it, he just pulled me onto him. He lowered himself to the ground so that his back was on the cobbles whilst he couldn't decide what the prettier sight of the night was, the fireworks, or me using him for my own pleasure.

His hands moved towards the base of his cock, the light springs of pubic hair tickled my legs as I tried to get comfortable under him, but I couldn't properly straddle him without losing my balance, we both knew that. He moved the tip of his cock to my entrance, the tip was already leaking that sweet sappy liquid I wanted to taste, and he held it in place whilst I lowered myself onto it.

My hand splayed across his abdomen, the muscles beneath the shirt rippled as he tensed them responding to my touch. I wanted nothing more than to be completely naked with him, for that skin-on-skin contact I'd never felt from him. One of us had always been in clothes, and when we were both fully naked, he never touched me.

Groans and gasps tumbled from my lips as I allowed his length to stretch my holes fully, the pain sprung tears into my eyes as I reacquainted myself with his cock, allowing it to fill me up as he once had years ago. "You're so, fucking, tight, Fury," he groaned, his head rolled backwards at the warmth which encased his pulsating cock.

"You're the biggest I've," I gasped as I prematurely slammed my hips into his, "had," I finished my sentence as I tried to recover from the feeling of pain which bled across me.

He brought his right hand so that it was beneath his skull, protecting him from the floor as his muscles rippled and constrained against the shirt they were prisoner to. I noticed the new sleeve in more detail now, the art was something he must have gotten when I'd been declared dead, and on it was a knife. My old Zombie Knife, my eyes were inside the blade, not my entire face, just my eyes and my eyebrows. The rest of the scene, I didn't care for. Because the thought he'd gotten that in tribute of me was enough to cause a primal, nurturing feeling to bleed through me.

He groaned in pleasure as I attempted to bounce on his cock. With every bounce, I felt our skin slap together, and the slickness to expand across his hips. My breasts heaved in the cool night air, and the scent of pyrotechnic smoke invaded my nostrils as I fucked myself using Ghost's thick cock. The sound of my pleasure crudely sloshing against his white-hot body was a sound I wanted to play over and over again.

My actions became sloppy as I struggled to maintain a pace he was satisfied with, and I got caught up with trying to satisfy myself at having something to clench down on, that Ghost propped himself up on his hands, his face reached mine from the angle he sat at, and he rolled his hips into me, his shoes slipped on the wet cobbles so that he could grind into me easier as he ravaged me. He carried on rolling his hips for what felt like a fucking eternity, "Touch yourself, show me how much you need me," he husked, his breaths plumed into speech bubbles in the frigid night air, and if his eyes were focused on my bouncing tits, I'd have pulled the dress up to preserve my body heat.

I wasted no time in bringing my middle finger to the sweet bud at the top of my dripping cunt, where I lazily traced circles on the swollen appendage. My head rolled backwards from the pleasure I gave myself as Ghost maintained his pace, his muscular arms controlled the rhythm as he bucked his hips into mine as he slid across the floor back and forth over and over until I felt my dripping hole momentarily clench around his pulsating cock. I was so close, and he knew it from the amount of appraisal which fumbled from his parted lips as he recklessly ploughed into me.

"Such a good girl," he cooed, his pace quickened as I rutted into him, my cunt had completely clenched around his mouth-watering length, and I couldn't hold back the sounds of pleasure which fell from my mouth, the crude sounds of approval as I allowed him to fuck into me, to use me until he hit his own peak. And, when he did, I felt his warm pleasure fill me up, the hot, ropes of cum dripped from my cunt onto his crotch whilst I remained on top of him, "I'm all yours," he promised.

I'm all yours I repeated the phrase in my mind. It was something primal, possessive, something that Ghost would abide blindly by, "You're mine," I replied, my voice airy as I gasped through my comedown from the waves of pleasure which had just wreaked havoc on me. The way I felt towards him now, was something dangerous, something that caused me have every waking thought filled with him, but we were on opposing sides, our causes worked against each-other. We were naturally sworn enemies.

I pulled myself off him, his cock lolloped onto his stomach as the cum smeared across the orange fabric of the shirt he wore, and I readjusted my dress. There was no point putting my underwear back on, he'd thrown it somewhere in the dark alley, and I wasn't exactly in the best of circumstances to be crawling around on my hands and knees whilst I looked for them, "If I see you again, Ghost," I said, and flattened the plum fabric down around my body in an attempt to hide the creases of where it had been hitched up, "I won't be so kind as to not kill you." I warned.

"Ditto," he replied instantly, and a cool rush of blood swarmed from my heart to my brain at the weight that word held. "I won't be too kind on you next time." he promised, and I couldn't tell whether me meant in regards to fucking me, or in regards to sparing my life.

A wicked grin split across my face, "I look forward to it," my voice was a bit too husky for my liking, but I couldn't complain. I had just fucked him, and it felt good.

But for now, Sarah Smith, wherever you are in Bolivia, I will find you, and I will fucking ruin you.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley #cod mw22 #cod mwii #smut #simon riley smut

[tomtenadia]

Thicker than blood - Epilogue

Here we are with the ending. Hope you will love it. 

A few more months had passed and Aelin was now on the tarmac of the family own airstrip at the airport, waiting to board a private jet with Rowan.

They had finally decided to go to Wendlyn and visit his parents and Rhoe had given them his private jet. Rowan had been elated and had confessed that he was going to fly it. His father in law had admitted he had a pilot on standby but Rowan had been adamant, so the man had caved.

Aelin was waiting for her husband to finish all his checks before he allowed her on board.

He came back twenty minutes later and finally deployed the steps “M’lady,” a bow, a deep grin.

She climbed in and dumped all of their bags while Rowan went to the cockpit.

Once the door was closed she joined him and stood behind his chair. He was chatting away with ATC to get his clearance and she studied him in his element. While she was still recovering he had taken the decision of buying a house in a mountain valley just like her parents had. Theirs though, was so deeply tucked away that an helicopter was the only way to access it. He had bought one and had been in charge of flying it. Her over three centuries old husband had been elated like a kid getting a new toy at the idea of being able to fly more regularly.

She had loved that side of him.

Rowan grabbed Aelin’s hand and pulled her to sit on the co-pilot seat “keep me company.”

Quietly, she sat and studied him as he played with switches and got the jet ready.

“We are on standby, Orynth airport has a bit of a queue, our slot is in about twenty minutes.”

Aelin smiled and brushed his long hair “I am glad we are doing this, I am looking forward to meet your family.”

After the night on the balcony when he had told her about his family she had been curious but he never said anything again but she never forgot. Aelin had brought up the subject again a while ago again and he had accepted. They got a few things in order at their jobs and then decided it was time for a well deserved holiday.

They chatted until Rowan resumed his tasks. He had been given the all clear for take off and she fastened her seat belt. As the jet sped on the runaway she could not contain her excitement. The view in front of her was amazing, they flew straight for a stretch and the white peaks of the Staghorns were kissed by the warm light of dawn, Rowan then banked gently and she spotted the Florine below them ran lazily. Her hand went on Rowan’s thigh and let him fly the aircraft while she admired the scene in front of her.

It was a good three hours later when the lights of Doranelle airport appeared ahead of them. The flight had been quiet and Aelin had eventually fallen asleep, her hand always on Rowan’s thigh.

Rowan had woken her five minutes before they were due to land. He put the jet down in an area dedicated to private and smaller aircrafts and a car was waiting for them. Apparently Rhoe had arranged their rental to be delivered directly on the airstrip. Rowan smiled and thought that having the Galathynius as in-laws had its perks.

Bags loaded, they jumped in the car “my parents live in the countryside about forty minutes away.”

Rowan called his father and advised them of an ETA and then finally set off.

When they arrived and got off the car Aelin looked up and was speechless. The Milky Way was prominent in the sky and although she had seen it a few times from their house in the mountains she was still speechless. All around them there were no mountains to obstruct the view and it just crossed the firmament.

“Stunning isn’t it?” Rowan stopped at her side.

Then a male voice broke the moment. They turned and a man with hair as silver as her husband was on the threshold “Rowan, Aelin.”

The man walked to them followed by a woman with dark hair. Alasdair and Eiddwen, Rowan’s parents. They both hugged their son and then enveloped Aelin in an even tighter hug “you made good time.”

Rowan nodded at his father “perfect conditions for flying.”

“Come on in both of you, we have your room ready.”

Rowan unloaded the trunk of the car, removing the suitcases and a big thermos box that contained Aelin’s blood supplies. He had told his parents that they needed space in the fridge for her supplies explaining that Aelin could not drink regular synthetic blood. He hadn’t gone too much in the specifics and was happy his dad did not investigate any further.

The two men then carried all of their belongings upstairs, while Eiddwen stole Aelin “I am so glad you convinced Rowan to come and visit. We haven’t seen him in a long time and when he told us his wife wanted to meet us ‘Dair and I were speechless. We had no idea he got married.”

Aelin sat on the sofa “ohh it’s a long and fascinating story, but yeah,” she showed her ring “we have been married for a while.”

Eiddwen patted her leg and smiled “He was always such a disaster with women. We are glad he finally abandoned his grumpiness.”

Aelin laughed “oh no, he is still brooding, but I taught him to crack a smile or two from time to time.”

Eiddwen relaxed “I am glad. We are a big clan and very family oriented. And now you are one of us too.”

Aelin almost squealed in delight. She had a good feeling about his parents from the moment they stepped out of the car.

“Also, Sellene is very eager to meet you. She is the head of the clan and thinks that having a Galathynius as in law is a great boost for relations.”

Aelin grinned “Dad is very eager too to work closely with the Whitethorn clan.”

The two men came back a while later and Eiddwen rushed to the kitchen, claiming that she had to prepare dinner.

Rowan laughed “my parents love human food. They don’t actually need it and still drink blood, but just love the taste and mum is an excellent cook.”

Aelin smiled widely “I love them already. Are you sure you are their son? You are too grumpy.”

His hands landed on her lips and his mouth claimed her in an hungry kiss “Only with people who do not deserve my cheery side.”

His wife pulled back “come, let’s explore the house. I want to see your room.”

Rowan grabbed her hand and they walked upstairs.

“I haven’t been back here in a very long time, but mum and dad left my room as it was.” Slowly he opened the door and Aelin followed him inside.

The first thing she noticed were the bookshelves against the walls, filled with books. The bed had a green cover that looked the softest thing ever. On an another wall there was a cork board with a lot of pictures and what looked like old concert stubs. She walked around in curiosity and then stopped at the window where a telescope stood, pointing out at the sky. “I should really take this back with us.”

“Or maybe you can buy a new one. Stop being stingy.”

Rowan grabbed her hips and pushed her against the wall “oh, so I am too thrifty?” She kissed him “I had to enter the scene for you to finally buy an helicopter and fulfil your itch to fly. You never buy much for yourself.” She kissed him deeply.

“I have you and I only want you.”

“Sex in your childhood room?” She joked teasing him “I bet young Rowan would have never thought you would have sex in here with your wife.”

“Young Rowan would never believe me if I told him I have the sexiest wife in all of Erilea.” Rowan lifted her in his arms and Aelin’s legs went around his waist “Old Rowan loves his wife very much…”

*

It was an hour later, when they dressed up quickly and responded to the summons from downstairs, trying frantically to look presentable and hide the proof of what had they done. Hand in hand they reached the kitchen and once inside, Aelin was speechless. The feast in front of her looked amazing and the smells were one of the most amazing thing she had scented.

They sat at the table and Aelin looked at the food. She had never tasted human food and no idea what to expect.

“Vampires here in Wendlyn are fully integrated in society and we have developed some interesting quirks like eating their food too. We still drink blood, the synthetic your family has created, but have started to cultivate the pleasure of sitting at a table while eating.”

Aelin looked at Rowan “Why don’t we do this back home?”

“I used to do it when I was back here ages ago.” He went quiet “In Terrasen never took hold and we know why. Maybe it’s something we can introduce.”

Aelin hummed and thought about the idea, it could promote further integration.

Eiddwen passed her a plate with food and Aelin inhaled the scent, then grabbed a spoon like Alasdair did and tasted it.

What she was not expecting was the explosion of flavours in her mouth. She took another spoonful and almost moaned in an obscene way “This is… incredible.”

Rowan kissed her head with love and tackled his food.

“How are things settling in Orynth?”

Rowan knew that Sellene was informed on what was happening overseas and had likely kept his dad informed.

“It’s getting better,” Rowan was the one who answered. Aelin was too busy eating, and also wanted to keep the topic on safe grounds. He had no idea how much his parents knew “It was a lot of months of hard work, but it’s now safer.”

“The news we heard from Orynth were quite dark. All those humans and vampires…” the comment had come from Eiddwen who looked quite distraught at the idea of the tragedy that happened across the ocean.

Aelin fell silent all of a sudden and Rowan worried. His hand finding hers under the table “we are healing.” Tenderly he kissed Aelin’s temple and her eyes closed at the contact. It had been a few months now and she had improved leaps and bounds but he knew that her trauma might live with her for a very long time.

“I think Darrow and Rhoe are planning on squeezing all of the knowledge from Sellene on how things are done over here and implement them back home.” He continued, while Aelin’s hand shook in his. 

“My mum has created a foundation to help with junkies and addiction. It was… bad.” She stilled for a moment and stared at her in-laws “I was one too,” her voice low and Rowan worried but let her speak. If Aelin felt like she could open up it was her call. “I…” a deep breath to gather her resolve “It’s how Rowan and I met. He stopped from feeding on humans.” Aelin felt his arm sneak around her waist and tighten in support “I almost slipped.”

“It was not Aelin’s fault,” he added quickly and she smiled at him.

“I was experimented on and I am recovering.” The confession came in almost a whisper, still too hard to deal with.

Eiddwen stood abruptly and went to grab Aelin pulling her in a tight hug “my darling, I am so sorry.” Aelin melted in the woman’s embrace and let out a weak sniffle. She was afraid Rowan’s parents would judge her, but Eiddwen’s hug had been unexpected.

“At least you two can help each other,” added Alasdair with a warm smile, and Aelin’s eyes widened in surprise and looked at Rowan.

“Oh yes, they know my story before I became a cop.” “Yes, and we were mad at him for doing it all alone. He never allowed us to visit and help.” Aelin’s heart lightened. Rowan’s parents were wonderful people and she was already in love with them “Oh I see, so that’s where you learned to fuss.”

Alasdair laughed out loud “We Whitethorn love to look after each other. We fuss and I am glad to hear that Rowan does that too.”

“He is a pro,” she tenderly brushed his cheek and was rewarded with a warm smile “So buzzard, can you cook?  Because when we go home I will want human food.”

Rowan flicked her nose “did I mentioned that I married a high maintenance woman?”

As a protest Aelin pouted and Rowan quickly removed it with a kiss on her lips. By the time they finished Aelin felt satisfied by the meal and volunteered to help Eiddwen to clean up. Rowan had offered but his mother had protested and almost pushed Aelin away too.

Rowan and his dad walked outside and sat on the chairs in the front yard admiring the sky ablaze with stars.

“Aelin seems like a wonderful woman.”

Rowan chuckled “she is brilliant and funny and I almost lost her.” He confessed, pushing back the pain of those three long weeks “Her aunt took her away and tortured her pushing her to the point of slipping. She wanted Aelin to slip but…” he looked at his father “Aelin and I are carranam and I have a feeling that is why she never slipped. Our bond kept her tethered.”

“That is very rare.”

“I know.”

Alasdair was silent for a moment “what about the blood?”

Rowan took a deep breath “the first time she was kidnapped, her aunt took her away for two years and she was used as a lab rat. They messed up her genetic code and gave her a super rare blood type. She can’t drink normal synthetic type. So her cousin, who is the scientist behind it, created a variety that she can drink without rejection.”

Alasdair’s hand went to his son’s shoulder “how is she dealing with all this?”

“Better, we had some tough few months. She is not fully healed yet, maybe she never truly will, but we are working on it. That’s why when she brought up coming here on holiday I agreed.”

“Your mother was delighted, especially when you said you were married.”

A low chuckle left his lips “believe me, I surprised myself too when I asked Aelin to marry me.” He admitted “It was all out of convenience. She was a junkie, so I offered her to marry so she could drink from me legally.”

“Then it became more…”

Rowan nodded deeply “she is my everything, dad.” Alasdair smiled and patted his son’s shoulder “Sellene will want to meet her and I have a feeling those two will get along like a house on fire.”

Rowan roared with laughter “I can totally see that.” A pause “How are her and Enda doing?”

“Enda has finally found a man who is worthy of him and we think this will be the one.” He listened to his father and relaxed. Enda had know quite early that he was attracted to men but had struggled for a long time and had very little luck “Good, I think he deserves it.”

“Sel is dating too, a vampire from Varese. He moved to Doranelle for work and he is really good.”

Rowan chuckled “Can we trust him? Is he good to her?”

Alasdair roared with laughter “Aye, he is a good man.”

Rowan and his father spent a little longer out in the yard until Aelin came looking for him.

“Did you have a nice time with my mum?” They were back in their room and were changing into comfortable clothes.

“I adore her.” Aelin dropped her t-shirt and jeans and stood naked in front of him, backing slowly towards the window.

“What are you doing, fireheart?”

“Sex under the stars…” she hooked her finger prompting him to follow her.

Rowan groaned and took a step while he pulled off his shirt and jumper in one fell swoop.

Aelin laughed and ran out on the balcony. When he joined her, stark naked, she was not there. Her wife was waving at him from the yard. With a jump he joined her and Aelin started running until they were further from the house and in a green field.

He ran to her and tackled his wife, both falling on the ground, laughing hard and freely.

“I love you, Rowan.” Aelin rolled on top of him and kissed her husband.

“I love you too,” he whispered against her lips “to whatever end.”

**

A year later, on the anniversary of the day they had met, Aelin and Rowan met again on top of the roof where it all started. They had dinner under the stars and reminisced of the year they had and joined under stars, whispering the eternal promise they had shared through darker times. 

To whatever end.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

#rowaelin fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin

[babygirl-diaz]

Winning a Losing Bet

In which Sam loses a bet to Bucky. But does he really?

***

Bucky nervously tapped his foot against the ground. He didn’t know why he was nervous. It’s not like he was the one who had lost the bet. 

“You gonna stay in there all night?” He called out to his husband. 

“You have a severe lack of patience,” Sam replied. His voice sounded closer than Bucky expected. 

Bucky turned immediately turned around, almost giving himself whiplash. He was the former assassin, but how Sam always managed to sneak up on him was beyond him. “Whoa,” Bucky’s jaw dropped when he finally took in Sam. 

“Whoa?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be laughing your ass off right now.” 

Sam had lost a bet against Bucky. It was a silly bet. A few weeks ago, Bucky said that he had a better memory, which Sam disputed, and he may have even called Bucky, an old man. To prove him wrong, Bucky bet Sam that Sam would forget their anniversary on February 25. Long story short, Sam forgot to put the reminder on his calendar and forgot their anniversary. Bucky, of course, wouldn’t let it go, and as per their bet, Sam would have to wear the horrible Captain America panty they found last year. The thing had a cartoonish version of Captain America drawn on the crotch with a speech bubble saying “God bless America,” something Sam would never say. It also had a bright sun drawn behind Sam. The thing was just absurd, and Sam and Bucky bought it off the clearance rack so that no one else would have to. It was supposed to be a lingerie piece with garter straps. 

Well, being the good sport that he is, Sam wore the Captain America lingerie, complete with the garter straps, AND pair of red stockings, AND red stilettos that made him look like sex on legs. Oh, that cheeky bastard. 

Bucky slowly approached Sam while smirking, “That wasn’t part of the bet,” he said in a low voice. 

“What wasn’t?” Sam asked with his hands on his hips while smirking back at his husband. 

“You looking sexy as hell in that ridiculous panty,” Bucky replied. He tilted his head to the side and bit his lips as he unabashedly checked out his husband. “Fuck, baby, there is no way in hell we’re going out now.” He said, taking off his suit jacket and throwing it aside. As he started to unbutton the white shirt he was wearing under the jacket, Sam grabbed his hand and stopped him. “What?” Bucky asked, confused. 

“Oh, we’re going to that dinner,” Sam replied. He lowered his voice as he drew circles on Bucky’s exposed chest. “And I’m going to wear the panty and the stocking under my suit, and you’re going to sit there in that very expensive restaurant and try not to cream your pants as you think about what you could be doing to me instead.” With that, he kissed Bucky’s cheek and sauntered back to the bathroom with only the sound of heels clicking against the floor. 

#SamBucky #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #TFATWS #fanfic #aashnas drabble

[brostateexam]

Yesterday, I took a red eye to Florida. Despite being in business class, I didn't sleep as much as I'd hoped because there was a fussy baby in the seat ahead of me, but this is ok. The flight didn't have full lie flat seats anyhow (I didn't expect it to; only three domestic routes do), and ultimately I can't sleep for hours while sitting in a seat with my seatbelt on. Personal moral failing on my part, perhaps. So as a result, I had the sleepy tireds all day yesterday and took not one but two naps.

I am here to see my grandmother, who is not in great health. As of a few days ago, she started a course of Prednisone for a severe form of vasculitis that was making her unable to be in a light without incredible pain. So she's tired but functioning now, but before this it was months of degeneration and my mom and aunt were thinking this was It.

They have a tendency to be gloomy about my grandmother's health, but seeing her in person, I understand it. She's very thin because she has digestive issues like me and kind of stopped eating this year, resulting in 20 lbs of weight loss (which is bad when you're in your 90s and already skinny as a rail), she stopped seeing her friends, she barely cooks food for herself... she seemed quite depressed. With the Prednisone taking care of the vasculitis, she's on the mend, and happier.

I'm getting her a new phone and setting it up while I am here because her current phone has a puzzling problem that three hours of my troubleshooting it has not solved where it does not receive calls, a big problem for a 96 year old woman living by herself. This is her gateway to the outside world and she's not going to get on TikTok and do Fortnite dances about it. Her phone is for phone calls, Facebook, news, weather, and the time, period.

Other than that, I went shopping with my mom and aunt last night and bought a lot of clothes, including a Hello Kitty strawberry milk hoodie I'm quite taken with that was on clearance for $20. I'm gonna go shopping a few more times while I'm here because I have a suitcase I can fill up and everything in Florida is cheap as hell compared to the Bay. Also, I caught a few carnivines in PoGo because region exclusives wait for no man.

The ducks woke me up today. They get so obnoxious in the morning in the canal near my grandmother's condo. They are lucky they're cute.

#pictures of hoodie forthcoming #i took some last night and stuff not quite realize that if i want to post then to Tumblr i should be wearing pants 🥴

[copperbadge]

Answers About Stretching Docs

prairie-grass

I'll be interested to hear if this trick works. I would have thought the leather being also in a frozen environment wouldn't be a good combo. I've alternately heard of putting wet newspaper in shoes and then letting it dry, a similar method. Can't say i've ever tried it myself though. I always go for buying the bigger size and putting a inner-sole in. Also, if this doesn't work for you, a lot of shoe-repair places will have special tools for stretching shoes!

The problem in this case is that buying the bigger size, because they don’t have half-sizes, means buying a massively bigger size. Like, an inch of clearance between toe and end of toe-box in my right foot bigger. I bought about four pairs in three different sizes, to make sure, but yeah these are a ten and the eleven is just comically massive on me.

Usually I buy a half size because the half-size isn’t so small that my left foot hurts, while being small enough that my right foot more or less fits. I also can’t use most insoles because I have flat arches and wide feet, but putting an insole into the right boot wouldn’t help anyway with the fact that no part of the shoe except the sole touches my right foot at the larger size :D 

It’s perplexing to me that Docs don’t offer half sizes; there seems to be no benefit and quite a few downsides. IDK why the last pair fit so perfectly, given I got them from a secondhand store decades ago, but depending on how these docs perform I probably won’t buy another pair unless I can buy one that fits from the jump. 

lilyhargrave

Oh, I have a pair of leather cowboy boots that are a little tight, did this really work? No damage to the leather?

None that I can see, but you have to bear in mind this leather is a lot thinner and more flexible than cowboy boot leather. Someone did the actual calculations on the website and water expands roughly 9% when frozen, but as they pointed out, realistically that’s only 2% in any given direction, so you don’t get a ton of expansion, just enough to stretch the leather. When I checked the boot with the frozen water in bags inside it, there were many places where the water hadn’t expanded into the area at all (the toe box, for example). I’d google to see if other people have tried it before trying it yourself. 

It seems to have worked to an extent -- the problem area for me was the seam where the tongue was sewn into the boot at the end of the laces, and that loosened somewhat after two days in the freezer. Enough that I could shove a soda can into the foot to continue stretching it, anyway, which I couldn’t before. 

onemuseleft

I was fully prepared to accept they were olives and that you knew what you were about

Maybe you can freeze olives! I have no idea. :D But I didn’t want people to be like “Sam, olives, why.” :D 

#onemuseleft #lilyhargrave #prairie-grass

[mandomover]

The Rookie

Part Ten - The Helicopter

Peña is in the helicopter as he tries to stop Gacha from above.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of smoking, gunfire, Angsty feelings

Words: 2000ish

Next ¦ Masterlist

Javi

I'm on the south west side of the mansion in the helicopter, hovering, but unable to do much else right now. The rich canopy too dense and tall to get clearance and blocking alot of what we can see on the peripherals of the action, only the mansion itself and a thirty foot ring clear of it, visible clearly. 

Besides the pilot, there's me and another officer manning the heli's gun. We're doing surveillance and awaiting orders but it's a difficult situation to be in when you can see everything at once and nothing at all at the same time.

We're just watching in silence, watching the detail spread out below and move forward, the rhythmic thwap of the propellers barely masking the sounds of gunshots from below. It looks good, they're moving forward but it's anybody's game to play for right now. 

I've worked with plenty of Colonel's in my time who aren't afraid to hide behind their rank in a safe space barking orders but not Carrillo. I can just about see him from where I'm sitting now, never one to shy away from the violence and the job front and center. I see Rookie next to him, keen to please and prove herself in any given situation no matter the risks, a gut instinct she'll do what it takes to cement her place on the team. I couldn't not see her. She pulls me in like a magnet. I know it's dangerous to let myself be pulled in by her but there's something about her. I can't put my finger on it, even though I'm fucking trying. 

While she's probably in the most vulnerable position on the front line, she's probably in the safest position too near Carrillo and Trujillo, one of the search bloc officers who I actually trust implicitly. They're few and far between down here when trust and honor are bought and sold like chickens at a market. Even though I'm not surprised, I'm impressed she's thrown herself in the deep end. Always does. Always will. 

She looks focused. I can see from here her brows are pulled tight, determined and the want to do her best and please others emanating from her like a bright light. 

Don't think about her right now. Don't think about her at all. Don't. Think. About. Her. Don't-

BOOM.

My face falls as I throw myself as far against the edge I can go, and concentrate on what I can see below, grasping hold of the handles to steady myself. 

A fucking crater has appeared where I was just looking; trees and sand and- jesus- bodies, scattered about. 

I can't see Rookie or Carrillo. 

My whole body is tense and tight, my knuckles white as the grip the handles, cutting off the blood supply to my fingers I'm gripping that tightly. 

I gulp, and gulp again, vomit threatening to rise in my chest, as I desperately search for Rookie and Carrillo, despite knowing I should be looking for Gacha. 

Focus. 

I can taste blood in my mouth, a dirty coppery taste where I've bitten the inside of my cheek to stop me shouting out, shouting down for Rookie and Carrillo, to someone fucking move and find them. 

Focus on Gacha. 

I lift my eyes up, checking the perimeters again. No signs of anything outside the ring of trees. 

I count to three, breathing deep, slow breaths before I look back down at the hole in the sand. 

Two people are moving, one on the ground and one standing. I can tell one is Carrillo. Even clearly injured he's holding his head high and back straight. He's helped the other person up to their feet and I can see now that it's Rookie. She's on her feet so she must be OK. Thank god. She's up. 

So refocus on Gacha. 

But there's a niggle in my brain, just because she's on her feet doesn't mean she's OK. She's the same as me, a fucking carbon copy of me ten years ago. She'll be up and acting like she's OK even if she's not. It's what I do. She has the determination and grit to do anything that girl puts her mind to. And while I admire that, it scares me too. She reminds me of me so much, I'm drawn to her, but while she'll walk the same lines I walked and get herself the places she wants to go, she'll probably make the same damn mistakes I did too. And I can't watch her break under the pressure she'll put on herself when she does. She deserves more than that. Deserves more than me to help her find her way in this rat race. Deserves the world. She's unsteady on her feet. Holding out for Carrillo. Get her the fuck out of there now. She's done, she needs to see a medic. She's taken out enough of Gacha's henchmen. No one would think any less of her for backing out now. No one except herself. I know she'll soldier on. 

I can't smoke up here so I have nothing for my hands to do to distract myself. I end up biting my thumbnail, ripping away at the skin surrounding it, the sharp pain allowing me to focus on it instead of the fallout from whatever caused that hole and who it hit. I know the drill. Focus on the task at hand. 

Everything else can wait. Everyone else can wait. 

But I need to know if she's OK. Really OK. I know I had strict instructions to allow them to approach silently, but surely now there's a fucking hole on the ground they know they're being surrounded. I could radio in, and just check if everyone is OK. 

Focus. 

My earpiece crackles into life and I hear Carrillo's voice shouting in my ear. 

"Peña, Gacho and his son are in a red chevy pick-up!" 

"Copy." 

I bark at the pilot, and we swing round and away from the trees and house, searching for the road out. 

I've seen her. She's fine. 

I take a deep breath. 

Focus. 

We find, and follow the road twisting in amongst corn fields, stalks as high as the truck itself, the red chevy chewing dust and spitting it out in its wake. The heli slowly gains on the truck but the truck is hammering hard down the road. 

The heli drops slightly, swinging round so the open face is adjacent to the truck, giving me and the gunman a perfect vantage over the road. 

"Red chevy in sight," I tell Carrillo. 

"Don't let him get away, disable the vehicle!" 

I nod, despite Carrillo not being able to see me and tell the gunman, "disable it, now!" 

The officer takes aim with the machine gun behind the truck so he can line up his shot, bullets raining down. He pulls slightly on the handle of the gun and it lifts the nozzle, pulling the spray of bullets up and further down the road, chasing the chevy. Dust and gravel billow up like smoke, swallowing the truck whole. 

My heart is in my throat as I scan the scene, finger poised on the radio to let Carrillo know what's happening. 

Fuck. 

The truck races through the dusty cloud, jerking and bumping along, barely staying between the cornfield lined track, but it's still moving. 

"No use, we've gotta go in again," I grimace. 

"Just stop him, do whatever it takes!" Carrillo's voice has an edge of panic and I try to not let it infiltrate through to me. I need to stay calm and focus on this mission. Just as I sign off, I hear a metallic ting as a bullet hits the roof of the chopper, perilously close to my helmet. 

"Fuck, we're taking fire!" I shout, to both the pilot and Carrillo. The pilot lifts the helicopter up, rising quickly and away from the road, the chevy getting smaller but still in view, sticking out like a sore thumb against the green canvas of the landscape. I lean one arm against the lip of the open frame, and when the gunman visibly relaxes, pulling away from the scope, I clap him on his shoulder leaving my sweating palm there. If I were to lift it, I'd try to rip the gun from his hands and shoot down myself. I try to follow his actions and relax my shoulders but they're raised and anxious. 

"Circle round and come at him from a different direction, we can't afford to loose him," Carrillo says, obviously able to see the helicopter from his vantage point. 

"Yessir." 

I relay this information to the pilot, who sweeps off into a figure of eight, bringing us wide around the truck so we're now facing it, flying towards the barrelling chevy.

"Peña?" 

I ignore Carrillo, waiting for the right moment to instruct the shooter, who is watching me, green eyes fixed on mine, wide and hesitant but determination clear to see. I inhale deeply and when I know that it's time, I squeeze his shoulder and jerk my head, his own head snapping back to the scope on the barrel. He pulls the trigger, and a spray of bullets rains down again, this time lowering the gun which drops the bullets along the road the opposite direction. Unmistakable pings. The car carries on, my shoulders more tense than before as I wait for a sign, for anything.

"Peña?!" 

The car spins about, slamming to a halt on the gravel, tires screeching and burning, a delayed reaction to the bullets it took seconds before. I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding as it comes to a halt and I signal to the pilot to circle lower. 

He complies and as we circle round, I can see Gacha squeeze himself out of the driver's seat of the chevy. His face is pained and I can tell he's scared. I have seen it plenty of times on the faces of men just before they lose their final battle but it still shocks me to see the vulnerability in a man like him. He's holding a silver pistol, reflecting the glint of the sun as he waves it manically about, gesturing at the chopper and the truck. He's screaming at the chopper now, face puce, but words lost under the beating of the wings. 

His face contorts suddenly, as if just realizing he has an audience and let's go of that vulnerability, snarling up at the chopper. He aims and shoots, bullets flying towards us but none hitting their mark. His arm recoils slightly each shot he takes and it's precious seconds before I realize he's still shooting but there's no bullets anymore. I'm watching Gacha, desperation evident as he flings the pistol itself at the chopper, and I'm incredulous as I tell Carrillo, "he's out of ammo, we can take this son of a bitch alive." 

There's a pregnant pause on the radio as I wait for Carrillo's response to come in. 

"It's your call," he says stoically.

I open my mouth to tell the pilot to land the helicopter, but then I can see Carrillo's fucking face in my mind from the conference room, telling me just to bring him in cold. Then the faces of Carrillo's police officers swim through my vision; murdered for doing their job, mutilated for daring to do a job they believe in, bodies missing coz they didn't stoop to Escobar's level. I know what needs to happen. I know I need to just shoot this motherfucker down.

This is the thing about war. It's pretty simple. Ugly, but simple. There's two sides. And they're clear. It's everything before war and after war that blurs the lines. But right now, I know what I need to do, whose side I'm on.

But just because I know what side I'm on, doesn't mean I'm happy with the solution. 

My inner demons fight with themselves over the right answer but I stand firm as my mind shakes down my heart and I hear myself, as if I'm having an out of body experience. I don't like it. I sound stiff. Icy. Unforgiving. 

"Darle plomo." 

@iamskyereads @wildemaven @ellenmunn @tantamount-treason @axshadows @rav3n-pascal22 @stevie75 @movievillainess721 @lulzbrokenbyfantasy

#javi peña #javier pena x reader #javier x reader #javier peña #javi pena #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #javier pena #javi p #pedro pascal fanfiction #the rookie #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos

[thaliasandy]

[Jason is the bad guy in this headcanon (as he is on the show in my opinion) so please scroll on if you think he's a pure little cinnamon bun.]

Max didn't know what happened in those hours but she saw Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson enter his trailer looking flirty as hell and they looked even more like a love sick couple when the cheerleader sneakily left at dusk, they even shared a kiss on his porch, which Max had only noticed because her nighmares kept her up pretty much all night.

What she knew for sure though was that she wouldn't watch Jason Carver berate his girlfriend, in a hushed tone, trying not to catch anyones attention, while grasping her upper arm in a grip so tight it would surely leave a nasty bruise.

The couple stood close enough to Max' locker for her to hear him mention how his friend saw her leaving the Forrest Hills trailer park.

"What the hell were you doing there, Chrissy? I know that freak lives there. I've seen you looking at him... Did you fuck him?"

Chrissy looked like she was about to cry.

"You're hurting me! I...I didn't do anything, I swear!"

"Then tell me what you were doing there, right now!" He demanded, backing her into the wall.

"Hey Chrissy!" Max excitedly shouted as she squeezed herself inbetween them, making Jason take his hand off Chrissy's arm.

"Just play along" she whispered into the visibly shaken older girls ear as she hugged her.

"You forgot your notebook at my place last night."

Max has never been happier about keeping that extremely glittery pink notebook (that her mom bought for her from a clearance shelf) in her locker, because it's the most "girly" looking thing she owns and made her plan to get Chrissy out of this situation a little more believable.

She shoved the notebook into Chrissy's hands.

"I really need help with this project I'm working on, do you mind if I steal your girlfriend for a moment?"

He looked angrily at Max before glaring back at Chrissy.

"You were tutoring her?"

"...Yeah babe, that's what I was trying to tell you."

She used her sweetest voice and put on her fakest smile and he seemed to believe it for the time being.

"I'll talk to you later Jason, okay...?"

"Alright."

He was very obviously still angry but before he could say something else Max took Chrissy's still shaking hand and pulled her along until they were out of Jason's sight.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah...Thank you...why did you help me?"

"No problem. Your boyfriend seems like a jerk...well and...this is going to sound so weird but I know you were with Eddie last night..."

Chrissy's eyes widened, a gasp leaving her lips.

"He was just helping me with something!" Chrissy tried to defend herself.

"That's none of my business, I just live next door to him and saw you."

"YOU SAW US?!" The panicked tone of her voice and the sudden blush spreading on her face told Max the chaste kiss she'd witnessed might not have been all that happened.

"No! I just saw you leave his trailer this morning...but you might want to make sure you're not alone with Jason when he finds out about...whatever is really going on between you and Eddie."

Chrissy knew there was no point in denying it anymore now.

She felt tears form in her eyes.

"What do I do now? He can't find out! I have to warn Eddie!"

Max tried to calm down the crying cheerleader by placing a gentle hand on her back.

"Come on, my friends probably know where he is..."

"Your friends?"

"Yeah, theyre playing Dungeons and Dragons together; Dustin, Mike, and Lucas."

"Lucas Sinclair? No! He's Jason's friend!"

She looked like she was seconds away from having a panic attack.

"Shhh don't worry, he's not going to tell him anything. But if it makes you feel safer we'll just ask Dustin, alright?"

Chrissy knew who he was, Eddie almost beat up Jason right there in the cafeteria a couple of months ago for making fun of Dustin.

She nodded, wiping at the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of her white jacket, careful not to smudge her make up, before she followed the younger girl.

#hellcheer #eddissy #chrissy x eddie #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #headcanon #chrissy/max friendship #max mayfield

[astriiformes]

@squidaresquishy replied to your post: My wool for Andreas got here today and it's so

where do u buy actual nice quality historically appropriate fibers (wool, linen)??? all i can find on the obvious sites like joann's or craft stores are like… weird polyester faux-flannel or cotton

So I have a fancier answer, a slightly less-fancy answer, and significantly less-fancy answer, both because it's good to spread your net wide regardless and also because as a cosplayer/costume-maker without much money, I've found that sometimes you have to get creative.

I bought my wool for my Andreas costume from Pendleton Woolen Mill because a friend who lives near them and is working on the same costume tipped me off to a clearance sale they were having. They're an example of a nice, high-quality seller that I usually couldn't afford to buy from where timing made all the difference (and I will absolutely be watching their site for sales in the future). Other stores I've heard friends recommend that sell natural fabrics, some of them specifically catered to historical costuming, include Burnley & Trowbridge and Silk Baron, and the other day while doing research for Andreas, I was poking around on the Historical Costuming subreddit and came across this list, which looks solid. On the whole I don't have a ton of recommendations though, since I rarely have the money to buy fabrics from more specialty retailers.

(Oh, and it's not fabric, but if you're ever looking for leather, Tandy Leather is another great place to get historical costume materials)

The slightly-less fancy answer is that I buy most of my cosplay fabrics, historical costuming ones included, from a local fabric outlet, which is not something every city has but has been an absolute treasure trove for me. They sell everything at 50% off and have some very weird finds (like the metallic linen I used for my Golden Guard tunic), but it's also been a good place to look for natural fabrics. I found nice silk and wool there for my sister's Cassandra de Rolo costume, and it's where I'm hoping I'll find another wool for Andreas' jacket. Even if your city doesn't have a fabric outlet, it may have local, non-chain fabric stores that are worth investigating (though the affordability may vary). I found out about the place near me through other cosplay friends, so asking around in local crafting and cosplay communities may lead you somewhere. If you're looking for historical fabrics specifically, I'd consider bothering the local SCA chapter about local recommendations!

Last though -- nice fabrics can be found in weird places. As a poor cosplayer who is usually trying to figure out the best way to hit the "nice materials" and "affordability" sweet spot, I've made a habit of checking out local thrift stores and yard sales for fabric whenever I can. Sometimes that looks like nabbing a $2 sheet to sew a cloak mock-up out of, but if you're persistent you can sometimes make pretty incredible finds. A few months ago I found a plain white linen curtain set that I nabbed knowing I would want for a costume at some point, and sure enough now my current plan is to use it for Andreas' shirt. It cost me maybe $8, which is insane for that amount of linen -- but not for thrift store curtains. The biggest challenge with this method is knowing what you've found. In that case I lucked out and the curtain tag was still attached, telling me they were a 100% linen blend, but sometimes you have to get more creative. We're big fans of the "If something looks and feels suspiciously like wool or linen, buy it, bring it home, and set a small piece of it on fire to test it" method in my household (natural fibers burn, manufactured ones melt; it's a legit test and you can read up on it!) but that does require a certain familiarity with wool/linen/etc to be able to pick out likely culprits. If you can make it work though, this is absolutely the cheapest way to get natural fabrics, and I've found it to be very worth my time.

I hope some of that helps! In general a "leave no stone unturned" method where you nab fabrics from a few different places works well, as does being willing to employ a little creativity. Best of luck with your own projects!

[callipraxia]

okay I’m here to thank you. Do you remember that post from like a Long Time Ago where you talked about what inks you used to plan/outline fwjb on paper? well, a few days after I heard about that, I went to the nearest store and bought the shittiest composition notebook and highlighters you’ve ever fucking seen in your life. then I forgot about it for like a very, Very long time. that's important context.

I suddenly remember it existed three days ago. I picked it up, decorated it, and colored two full pages of marker because. because well why not. The first couple pages are soaked in ink my bad. anyways—I finally decided to start actually WRITING in it, in PENCIL, because while actual writing notebooks would be a lot better than a Fucking Composition Notebook, I’m pinched. so. I did that. and guess what?!? it helped! it fucking helped! my weird ass outlines On Paper! I figured out a WHOLE Three Act Structure for do you remember hanging up the stars, AND have begun loosely sorting all of the POVs I have in the search for future reference. like?!? oh god it’s so helpful to have something I can Look At. very shitty picture attached (ignore the gagging mess of handwriting, never grew out of third grade cursive hybrid lettering, you might not even be able to read it--) (this is for the stars)

so… thank you! this was very helpful and that wasn’t your intention with the post but fuck all I Listened. you’ve got organized writing a lot more than I do, lol. will possibly take More Notes in the future…! :)

oh Wow now im getting feelings from showing off my handwriting to a public for the first time. hopefully this doesnt unlock and unbridled the terrible ordeal of being known anxiety! /lh

Ooh, cool! And your handwriting’s quite nice and very legible, so don’t be anxiety about it!

Composition books are also perfectly valid forms of writing notebook. I’m writing the first draft of Tracey’s journal in one, actually, because that’s the kind of notebook he’s writing in in-universe, and the McGucket memoir’s on a purple legal pad. The FWJB outlines and notes, meanwhile, were written mostly on loose sheets of printer paper, gathered into a folder (which proved invaluable as a supplement for my memory, which went into full leaky-faucet mode for a while halfway or so through IE cos COVID/2022 being Just The Worst Year). Most of my one-shots are written in my tiniest handwriting on bits of scrap paper, including a number of those alignment sheets the printer spits out when you plug it in. As much as I love good-quality notebooks, they aren’t always the right tool for the job…especially if you just hoard them and never deem any idea good enough to ‘waste’ them on (I’m convinced that getting the FWJB notebooks on clearance sale was directly tied psychologically to my willingness to actually use them, somehow or the other).

#writers #writing #writer problems

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Single Dad! Eddie Munson/ Steve Harrington

Requested By: NA

Word Count: 2,398

Series Summary: Eddie left Hawkins in 1986 with no reason to ever return. But now, a few years have passed and life has changed. Eddie finally returns home and has to deal with everything he left behind, including Steve Harrington. This story starts in May 1991.

Chapter Summary: Eddie goes to court. I did my best with this one, but I literally work at a farm store so my lawyer talk might be rusty.

Stranger Things Masterlist

Steddie Masterlist

Series Masterlist

~~~~~

The courthouse was small and too quiet. It wasn't at all what Eddie was expecting. His lawyer, a man Eddie only ever referred to as Mr. Williams, had met him briefly in the hallway outside of the courtroom where a judge would be hearing his case. He shook hands with Eddie, Wayne, and Steve before excusing himself to find out where they would need to leave Lucy during the proceedings. 

"I'll go wait outside," Wayne announced as Mr. Williams rounded a corner. "Make sure the girls don't get lost trying to find us when they get here." 

Eddie nodded. He knew that was an excuse. The Hawkins courthouse was barely larger than most people's houses. Only two court rooms, a restroom, a small waiting area, and a few other doors that led to rooms that Eddie had no idea about. But he also knew that his uncle probably just needed to get away. Get some fresh air and another Camel in his system before their day started. So he simply nodded and watched him walk through the glass doors. 

"How are we feeling?" Steve asked quietly. 

"I'm fucking scared, man," Eddie answered, moving Lucy from one arm to the other. 

"Hey," Steve whispered. He put his hands on either side of Eddie's jaw, his fingers tucking behind his neck, under the ponytail his lawyer had insisted he pulled his hair back in. "It's gonna be okay, yeah? I'm not gonna let her take Lucy." 

Eddie appreciated how sure he sounded. Both he and Wayne had been by his side over the last month. Neither of them would let Eddie think about what would happen if things didn't work out, if they could help it. They were both so confident that Billie wouldn't win. That Lucy would come home with him when it was all said and done. He didn't always know if they were right, but their never ending certainty and moral boosts did not go unappreciated by Eddie. 

"Want me to hold her?" Steve asked. 

Lucy seemed to understand. Her arms reached out to him as soon as the question left his lips. She let out an excited squeal once she was in his arms. Both Eddie and Steve smiled along with her. For just a moment it would have been easy to forget why they were here. Why they were dressed in stupid suits bought for the occasion. Standing in a too quiet hallway while they waited for the day neither of them wanted to be happening to end. 

But then, as quickly as she'd appeared at the truck stop a month ago, Billie was standing down the hallway. She looked, for the first time since he met her, like the money she came from. Her matching skirt and blazer were tailored. The expensive looking jewels on her neck and wrists put Eddie's clearance rack outfit to shame. She wore a wide smile as she walked towards them, her arms extended. 

"Lucy!" She cried too loudly. "Come to mama, baby!" 

Lucy shrunk into Steve's chest. Her giggles died as she wrapped one arm around Steve's back, her other hand tangling tightly into the lapel of his jacket. She rested her head against his chest, her eyes never leaving Billie. Steve's hand on her side moved to wrap around her back, his large hand almost covering her torso completely as he held her even tighter to himself. He was letting Billie and everyone else know that he was not going to hand Lucy over to her. 

"Really, Eddie?" She asked, her arms dropping as she turned her attention to him. "You turned my own daughter against me?" 

"She isn't against you. She just doesn't know you." 

"Oh," she scoffed. "And she knows…him?" She finished, her tone sharp as she gave Steve a once over. 

Before either of them could answer a man that Eddie assumed was her lawyer was at her side. He placed his hand on the small of her back, ushering her away with a whisper of her name. Eddie and Steve turned in unison to watch them disappear through a door, waiting for the lock to click behind them. 

"You smell it, too?" Steve asked, his eyes not leaving the heavy wooden door they'd walked through. 

"You mean the whiskey hiding under a bottle of gardenia perfume? Yeah," Eddie sighed. "I smelled it." For the first time since he got the news that Billie was taking him to court, he relaxed. He hoped, maybe naively, that things would work out.

~~~~~

"Let the record show that we are here today to hear the case regarding the custody of Lucy Claire Munson, aged ten months, current residence, Hawkins, Indiana." The older man in black robes sat behind his pedestal, hands flat on the surface in front of him. He nodded to Belinda's lawyer, "Mr. Cartwright, you have the floor." 

He was good, Eddie had to admit. His sharp suit and even sharper words had Eddie's own mind working against him. He stood before the judge and laid out Eddie's past. His run-ins with law enforcement in the city, his use of party drugs and alcohol after shows, the fact that Eddie never had a stable income while he was in New York. Eddie felt his body begin to sweat beneath his clothes as he listened. 

"Thank you," was all the judge said as he took his seat beside Billie. "Mr. Williams," he spoke once more, nodding towards Eddie's own lawyer.

"Your honor," he started as took a few steps to the center of the floor. "I'm not here to argue that my client doesn't have a rough past. Or even that he's never been arrested. I'm here to argue that he's turned all of that around, and that he's a good father to his daughter. He's been here, taking care of her every day since May of this year while the plaintiff was nowhere to be seen. And we have evidence that she didn't see her daughter for three months before my client made the decision to come home, back to Hawkins, to raise his daughter surrounded by family and with a support system that would make single parenthood just a little easier." 

Billie's team went first. His lawyer told him that it was standard practice for the plaintiff to present their case first, and then he would "work his magic" to argue against them. Her lawyer called her to the stand and had her state her name, age, and relationship to the case. 

"Belinda Holbrook," she said with a smile. "Twenty-four, and I'm Lucy's mother. And, um- I'm Eddie's former girlfriend." 

"And when you say 'Eddie' you are referring to the defendant, Edward Munson?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Thank you," he nodded. "Ms. Holbrook, when was the last time you saw Mr. Munson?" 

"I visited him at his job last month." 

"And what happened on that visit?" 

"I asked him to see Lucy. He refused, and told me that I'd never be allowed to see her. He told me to go back to New York and to leave him alone." 

"And when had you last seen him before that?" 

"I don't know the exact date," she answered. 

"Just a rough estimate will do."

"It would have been right after Valentine's day. I remember dressing Lucy in the cutest little red onesie for the day." 

Eddie had to clench his jaw almost painfully to stop a scoff. It hadn't been "right after Valentine's Day." It was February 8th. It was a Friday. She went out for the night with her friends, kissed Lucy on her way out, and then never saw her again.

"And you hadn't seen them again until last month?" Her lawyer continued. Belinda nodded her head. "I need a yes or no, Ms. Holbrook." 

"Sorry," she stammered. "Yes." 

"And why was that?" 

"Because Eddie wouldn't let me see her." 

Eddie's hands balled into tight fists beneath the table he was sat at with his lawyer. Williams noticed. He placed a soft hand on his arm, silently telling Eddie that he understood, but that Eddie needed to keep his cool. 

But he couldn't help it. Anger coursed through him as he listened to her. She was sitting there, in her expensive suit with her expensive lawyer lying about him to a judge. He hadn't kept her from Lucy while he was in New York. He'd actually gone out and tried to find her more than once with every intention of begging her to come home. To be there with Lucy. 

After a few more questions, her lawyer rested. Eddie's lawyer took the floor and Eddie did everything he could to remain calm as he watched him question her. 

"Where were you from February to May of this year, Ms. Holbrook?" 

"I've been in New York all year," she answered. "Well, other than now and when I was here last month." 

"More specifically, where were you living during those months?" 

"I lived with a roommate in the city." 

"Not with your daughter?" 

"No." 

"And why was that?" 

"Eddie wouldn't let me into the apartment." 

That was a lie. A blatant and outright lie. Eddie knew it. Belinda knew it. It made him even more angry, his hands gripping tightly at his thighs beneath the table. 

"Did you have a key to the apartment?" 

"Yes." 

"So you could have gone in, with minimal resistance, if you wanted to?" 

"Well, Eddie-" 

"That was a yes or no question, Ms. Holbrook." 

"Yes." She finally answered after a long pause. 

"So why didn't you?"

"Eddie wouldn't let me," she repeated. 

"So, he wouldn't let you into the apartment but he let you keep a copy of the key?"

"Objection." Her lawyer called out suddenly. 

"Sustained," the judge announced. 

"Withdrawn," Mr. Williams said. "Is this the same apartment that had your name on the lease?" 

"Yes." 

"So, if you could, please explain how my client was keeping you out of an apartment that you had a key to, and every legal right to be in." 

"He just wouldn't let me in." 

"Thank you," he said. Eddie suddenly felt like maybe this guy was on to something. Maybe things would work out. Belinda couldn't even come up with a good lie. 

She was dismissed from the stand after a few more questions in which she lied about Eddie and his character. Next Eddie was called forward and asked to give the same information that Belinda had given. 

"Edward Munson," he said, having to clear his throat. He hated having to use his full name. "Twenty-five. I'm Lucy's father." 

"And your relationship to Ms. Holbrook?" Her lawyer asked.

"Former boyfriend, I guess." 

"You guess?" Her lawyer asked. "You were either in a relationship or you weren't, Mr. Munson." 

"Well, we were sleeping together." Eddie said flatly. "But that was basically the extent of our relationship." 

Her lawyer nodded and thanked him for his candor. The questioning continued with her lawyer asking Eddie more or less the same questions he'd asked her. When did you last see Ms. Holbrook? Why had it been so long? Why did you refuse to let her see her daughter when she asked?

"I was protecting Lucy," he answered to the last question. 

"Protecting her from her own mother?" Her lawyer asked, his tone disbelieving. 

"Yes," Eddie said. "Lucy doesn't know her." 

"You've got four different character witnesses lined up to speak on your behalf, is that correct?" 

"Yes." 

"So it wouldn't be far fetched of me to assume that each of them has met your daughter?" 

"They all know her."

"Why do you feel the need to protect her from her own mother, but not a handful of strangers?" 

"Billie- sorry," he stammered, his eyes closing as the nickname slipped from his mouth. "Belinda already left us once. I don't want Lucy to end up hurt if she leaves again." 

"But you're the one who left New York, isn't that correct?" 

"Yeah, but-" 

"Thank you, Mr. Munson." He interrupted. "No further questions, your honor." 

Eddie lawyer stood from his seat, buttoning his suit jacket as he took a step into the center of the room once again. 

"Why did you move back to Hawkins, Mr. Munson?" 

Eddie took a breath, steadying himself as he thought through his answer. "I was really struggling in New York by myself," he said finally. "I knew it would be easier to raise Lucy here." 

"Why were you struggling so badly?" 

"Uh, well, it was hard for me to find a steady job, since I didn't have anyone to watch her." 

"What did you do for money?" 

"Mostly just odd jobs when I could find them. And, uh, and I pawned a lot of stuff." 

Mr. Williams nodded, his brows raising as if to say that Eddie had a point. "And were you right? Is it easier here?" 

"Yes, definitely." 

"You have a steady job, a car, people to look after your daughter if needed?" 

"Yes," Eddie answered. "I work as many hours as I can, a decent car. And uh, my uncle watches Lucy when I'm at work. Or, uh, Sarah watches her sometimes." 

Eddie started to relax as he answered his own lawyer's questions. He had been told beforehand that her lawyer would ask difficult questions, or questions that were worded in a way to try to trip him up. To try and make him look like a bad person, a bad father. But he'd been prepared for those. And Mr. Williams was asking questions that they had practiced in his office the day before. Eddie was beginning to let himself feel confident. 

After Eddie's lawyer announced that he was finished with Eddie as a witness, the courtroom broke for lunch. After the break his lawyer called his uncle and his friends individually to the stand. They each testified for him, telling the judge that he was a good father. That he loved Lucy more than anything and was doing his best by her. 

Eddie found himself getting emotional as they all spoke on his behalf. Listening to people say that he was good. That he was kind and loving. It felt like the Hawkins he was currently in was not the same Hawkins he'd left when he was a kid. Like suddenly the town that had hated him five years ago was now standing behind him, ready to fight for him. 

~~~~~

previous part // next part

~~~~~

#steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fan fic #steddie au #steddie angst #steddie imagine #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve/eddie #eddie/steve #steve x eddie #eddie x steve

[sailorbadger]

re: my tags on this post, @psychicbluebirdmiracle wanted a list so here’s some of my favorite Robin Hood adaptations in no particular order:

Sidenote: most of these are either extremely niche and/or “you may think it’s bad but I think it’s good” because that’s just what my tastes are.

BBC’s Robin Hood: You all knew this one was going to be up here and if you didn’t, you haven’t been following me long enough. This is what gave birth to my brain worms. I’ve given a PowerPoint presentation about this which was three hours long. I have subjected other people to this show to the point that there is now a yearly celebration where we watch only one specific episode of this show and make memes about it. I am insufferable about this. The day I stop thinking about this show is the day I have lost all brain activity.

Back to Sherwood: I am once again reminding everyone that I have offered to exchange my firstborn child for the original English version of this show. The Vibes on this show are perfect and I will never forgive the people that cancelled it after only 13 episodes. Fun time-travel related hijinks? Sign me up.

Princess of Thieves: Who doesn’t love a Keira Knightley movie?

Disney’s Robin Hood: Listen, you just can’t go wrong with this one. Very solid all around. But there’s another reason I’m putting it on this list. My cousins (ages 6 and 4) were staying over with us on Easter and I put this movie on at one point to get them to sit down for a few minutes while my parents made lunch. My godson (the 6-year-old) asked me why I knew so much about what was going on in the movie and I explained that I watched it when I was young, and then my dad said that the movie is so old that he watched it when he was a child. It was a lovely inter-generational bonding moment over my special interest as my dad explained to my cousin about the different characters and how there’s a lot of different versions of the story.

Not really an adaptation but continuing from the last one, this YouTube video: Some of the best analysis on why most mainstream Robin Hood adaptations suck. This is why I mostly just like the versions that have good Vibes.

This soundtrack to a Swedish Robin Hood musical: I can’t even begin to explain how upset I am that I found out about this musical after it had already been cancelled due to the pandemic. I could have gone and seen it. There’s not even a DVD of it. At least we have the soundtrack which is full of bangers. Everything sounds as over-produced as you’d expect from the country that makes over-produced Eurovision songs, and I love every second of this. If you’re not going to listen to the whole thing, at least listen to Prince John’s song.

This even more obscure soundtrack to a Finnish Robin Hood play from 1997: Everything here is just Vibes. I wish I knew what the actual plot of the play was but these songs are great on their own. The fact that the singer from a famous Finnish band (Neon 2) sings a couple of the songs is just ?????A Choice???? but a perfect one at that.

Robin Hood: The Great Escape: My most vivid memories of listening to this play that’s a podcast is when my IBS was really bad and I was on the bathroom floor crying in pain, so I just put this on to distract me. Anyway, this one has good characters, interesting mix of different cultures and LGBT+ representation, and it all works seamlessly in a way that doesn’t feel forced. Definitely worth a listen.

Robin McKinley’s The Outlaws of Sherwood: I bought this book from my local library’s clearance about 15 years ago. It’s a solid fun adventure and that’s pretty much all I can say about it.

The Finnish opera adaptation of Robin Hood: The dogs in this are nightmare fuel and the whole thing is bordering on the “so bad it’s good” line. The lyrics are so weird at times, it’s awfully cringy sometimes but I love it so much. I own it on DVD and it has English subtitles so if anyone wants to watch it sometime let me know.

Carrie Vaughn’s The Ghosts of Sherwood and The Heirs of Locksley: I need a third part of this. These are a quick read, about 100 pages each, about the children of Robin Hood. And although the premise may sound cliché and childish, I swear these are so good and worth your time.

C.K. Brooke’s Marian: Princess Thief: Ah, yes, the “disappointingly heterosexual” one. Putting aside the fact that this book missed a great opportunity in making at least one of the characters gay, it has an amazing all-female-cast of characters (there’s a male love interest there too I guess, I don’t care about him). This book made me feel like how Sailor Moon made me feel in high school with it’s focus on the Power of Friendship.

That one Finnish audio drama that’s based on Finnemore’s version: Everyone sounds so horny in this one for some reason and the actual text is not helping. The theme song is a banger. It’s a shame the CDs were copy protected so I couldn’t rip the files for myself.

A black-and-white recording of a Finnish play from 1971: The fashion is so 70s it hurts my eyes. The songs are so bad. The plot is almost non-existent but I love every second of this. (I would have linked it but you can unfortunately only watch it in Finland)

The 2009 movie with a dragon in it?????: I don’t remember most of this except that it’s definitely in the “so bad it’s good” category. They just shouldn’t make high-budget versions of Robin Hood when low-budget productions are so much more entertaining.

Edale Lane’s Heart of Sherwood: I need to re-read this one because it had everything I could have asked for. A lesbian Robin Hood with a good story that was a fun adventure which still somehow made me very emotional. 10/10.

That one zoom-play on YouTube: I bought the novel that was made based on this play just because this was so entertaining. In a year I’ve only read about 20 pages of the book but the play was so good and at one point so full of twists I was staring at the screen with my mouth open for like 10 minutes.

I could probably include even more things from my List (I have a list where I collect all the different versions I’ve seen/read/listened to etc), but this is already too long and I ended up taking a few things out. I only included versions I’ve enjoyed the most but there’s still plenty of good ones out there.

#robin hood #I love weird robin hood retellings #please someone talk to me about them

[japanesepenguin]

Quick, Akina's in the office today. Current state of the garden?

Current state of the garden!

First row (left): wind- and typhoon-rain-destroyed beets; second row: wind-, typhoon-rain-, and caterpillar-destroyed carrots; third row: somehow surviving beets; fourth row: newly planted radishes (just sprouted)!

I've learned a lot from the above and I'd do things completely different with a second chance.

Since... well, probably for as long as I can remember, I have never intentionally killed another living creature (except mosquitoes, which I have always made it a point to intentionally kill), but in the past week I've killed a dozen aphids and a handful of caterpillars. I think trying to grow food brings out some primitive nature life-and-death passions.

Anyways, here's the latest addition: A $0.67 plum tree, just purchased yesterday. It was out in the direct sun in a tiny pot for at least a week slowly decreasing in clearance price (from an original $9.00) and I finally bought it last night. I've repotted it into my biggest pot with my best dirt in hopes it'll bounce back and establish itself before winter. The plums are technically "Japanese apricots."

Kale seedlings just absolutely taking their time to grow in the 90°F+ weather we've had the past two months. Hoping they'll take off soon and I can transplant them here:

The new side land! The owner visited a couple weeks ago and thanks to Akina I've learned this is our space, it's okay to plant things directly into the ground, and it has much better soil (since confirmed). He also will donate some edamame for us to plant here in the spring. In the meantime:

I've transplanted most of the broccoli sprouts I had. On the left and right are radishes (just sowed the seeds today). The photo distorts the perspective, but this is only using about 1/3rd of the row space. There's lots more room, which will be for:

Left: beets (I'm trying to sow them in the seed trays rather than direct sow since the Internet made it seem like it was possible, though I'm not convinced), ice plants, and two trays worth of salad greens.

The ice plants were Akina's request. They're... very hard to grow and have particular requirements. I got about 20% of them to germinate and now I'm just trying to not kill them.

Anyways, here's the shiso/ooba, going crazy. It's starting to bolt, which was the intention, since you can get hundreds of seeds off a single plant and two $0.07 plants is way cheaper than a packet of seeds (while also coming with leaves you can eat).

Got the basil to recover, looking good.

Pentas is just about on its last flowers. I hope I can get these to survive the winter; I really like this flower.

These flowers just keep making flowers. I dunno what they're called.

A fairly recent addition.

Rosemary clipped from... a public space and transplanted here. There might be a fungal infection on the bottom, giving it another day or two to see.

This is a male kiwi plant. It was $0.07 (like everything else). Only the female plant produces the fruit (and a male is needed for that to happen), but they both produce flowers. It was really close to death when I got it, but after dropping all its leaves it's now starting to recover.

The mums are just... existing. Flowers come in small and brown and then die.

The king 'n queen, blueberry bushes. Samson has a bunch of new branches and SukSuk just started sprouted her first two:

Wee~

Rock collection. Very important.

And, out of everything, the two things not doing great are the mint plants...

This concludes your garden update.

[elphantasmo]

Crafting post of what I got done today:

First up is solving a problem I had without spending money. I needed a background for filming social media posts that wasn't my desk mat. My deskmat matches my stream background and has my twitch logo, which is great for streaming, but isn't great for my social media for crocheting. As of yesterday, all of my social media as it relates to my crocheting is under the name Hooking Hijinks, except twitch. I don't want to change my twitch name because I want to keep it separate so I can be flexible and do game streams. But to keep it consistent across everything else, I can't exactly use my desk mat as a background. So I was searching for some on Amazon that were just a patterned situation so I could keep it neutral. Except they were like 50 bucks and too big for the desk area. Cue me remembering I have some patterned vinyl that I bought on clearance at Joanns like 5 years ago.

I just cut up a cardboard box, lined up the vinyl sheets so the pattern was consistent and tacked them in place. The back kept popping off so a little scotch tape fixed that. Took me like 20 minutes and most of that was cutting the box and trying to peel the vinyl off the backing lmao

I also was able to crochet about 4 inches on the baby blanket. It's about 5 rounds. Since the blanket is worked in a "circle" each round has 4 rows so that's about 20 rows. Three of those rows had some fussy stitches that weren't fast because I wanted to get them correct. The blanket measures 25.5 inches across and the goal is to get it as close to 34 inches while ending on a row that allows me to start a nice border. Because this pattern is written for a king sized bed, I'm having to find a stopping point before adding the border that makes sense. It doesn't fit completely on any of my desks so the pictures are with part of it hanging off. I also did a couple of close up pics so you can see some of the detail going into it. I'm getting tempted to make a full sized version of this blanket sometime this year because I'm loving how it's turning out.

I've made a a slight modification from the pattern which is just because of my hatred of popcorn stitches. I have swapped those out for larger puff stitches because I prefer those and they look similar. Lots of texture in this one! Really really happy with how it's turning out so far!

#chatty cassie #i already know what yarn i'll use to make a full sized version #crafting musings #long post