#and it ain't even christmas yet
Text
day after tomorrow
joel miller x reader
summary: joel drops you off and picks you up from the airport. you are definitely falling in love with him.
warnings: modern no outbreak au, game!joel or hbo!joel, fluff, really just a fluff fest honestly, new-ish relationship, falling in love, sweet enough to make your teeth ache | 2.7k
A/N: this is a christmas gift for my dear friend @strangerfreaks who makes my life better in every way possible. i love you! hope you enjoy this <3
___
He's leaning on the side of the truck when you hurry outside with your stuff.
"Morning," you call. It's barely that, sky still dark and air still carrying the bite of the night's chill.
Joel straightens up and gives you a tired smile. Most of his smiles are tired but they're always genuine when directed at you. He tugs the backpack from your shoulder and presses his lips to your cheek, beard scratching your skin gently.
"Howdy," he says in your ear before pulling away.
The travel mug Joel pushes into your hands is warm to the touch.
"Tea," he says before you can tell him it's too early for coffee. His voice is deeper than usual, still warming up from sleep. It's not a cup from the local shop -- they're not open yet -- so he must have made it at home. "No caffeine before flights."
"You remembered?"
He gives you an unimpressed look and grabs your bags. They go in the backseat of his truck and he jerks his chin at the passenger door. "Get in. S'chilly."
It's also early. So early you were not going to ask him to drive you to the airport but when you mentioned you had to go on a work trip he offered. Insisted, actually, once he found out what time you needed to get there.
"You ain't takin' a cab that early," he had said. "Hell, you ain't takin' a cab home, neither. I'll pick you up."
This thing between you isn't new anymore, not exactly, but it's not solid yet. It doesn't have a name. But it's been a few months and you know what his sheets smell like and the feel of him pressed against you in the middle of the night and how he laughs with his head thrown back, mouth wide and eyes creased at the corners. He likes to take you on long walks around the lake a few towns over and you know all about his daughters even if you haven't met them yet. Your life feels a little more solid with Joel in it and the swell of your heart in your chest when you talk to him, when you see him, when he looks at you, is a welcome feeling. It's nice to want and be wanted in return.
The inside of his truck is warm, your seat heater already turned on. The radio is down to a low hum and there's a silver cup similar to your own in the holder between the seats. Joel gets back into the truck with a slight groan and glances at you to see if you've got your seatbelt on before he clicks his.
"Ready?" he asks. You nod. He settles his hand on your headrest and looks out the back windshield as he reverses the truck out of the driveway. "Shouldn't hit much traffic," he says.
You take a sip of your tea and watch him as he drives out of your neighborhood and towards the highway. Part of you wishes you would hit traffic so you could look at him longer. Even in the dark you know his face pretty well by now. His hair is getting a little long, the dark threaded through with some grey and falling over his perpetually lined forehead. The scar on the bridge of his nose that you love to run your finger across and the bruises under his eyes from too many nights up late working on site plans and employee schedules. You don't think you've met a man who works as hard as Joel, and yet here he is driving you to the airport when he could be sleeping.
Maybe it's because he's tired or maybe it's because it's dark or maybe it's because you're leaving for a few days but Joel lets you look without teasing. His eyes catch yours for just a second and he smirks.
"Why don't you drink coffee before a flight?" He takes a sip of his own thermos. You watch his throat work as he swallows and look away this time. The sky is starting to look purple out your window, the trees and fields and occasional buildings flying by too fast for your eyes to settle on anything. Joel drinks coffee like it's water. You're still leaning things about each other -- most days you find yourself thinking that you want to be learning things about him for the rest of your life -- and this is a new topic of conversation. You haven't had to be on a plane since you met him.
"I don't really like flying," you say. "Makes me nervous. I figure caffeine will just make it worse."
"Don't like it much either." You look at him again and find see smirk turn to a frown as he merges onto the nearly empty highway. "You gonna be okay?"
He asks like it's within his power to make flying something enjoyable, to cancel your work trip, to squash everything in this world that makes you nervous. Mostly you're just glad he's not teasing you about it. Maybe someday you can take a trip and be grumpy about it together.
"I'll be fine, Joel."
"Hm."
He rests an elbow against the window and rakes his hand through his hair.
"What are you up to this week?" you ask.
He sighs. "Not much," he says. "Lumber shipment but Tommy's handlin' it. Ellie says her shower head is actin' funny so I'll go to her place and look at that. Probably sit my ass on the couch and try to watch a damn football game or somethin'."
"So what I'm hearing is you're going to miss me." It's meant to be a tease but it comes out a bit more earnest than you'd like.
He sends you that unamused look of his but the mirth in his eyes betrays him, tells you he sees through it. You're learning that he's good at that -- seeing what you really mean, what you really want, who you really are, all the way down to the core. "Course I will," he says. "What man wouldn't miss cold hands bein' stuck up his shirt when he gets in bed?"
You scoff and Joel snickers. You could remind him how he usually catches your hands in his before you make it to his hemline on the rare nights he does wear a shirt, how he cradles your fingers and blows on them softly while rubbing them with his perpetually warm palms. The memory makes your breath hitch just a bit.
It's only three days. Some conference your boss wanted you to go to in his stead. It won't require much of you -- you just have to attend a few panels, a dinner or two, and schmooze a little bit. You'll be back before you know it. You tell yourself it's silly to feel this apprehension at the distance, the time apart. But you're used to Joel by now and damn if you won't miss him. Used to him taking up space in your kitchen, used to his arm around you on the couch, used to his short texts and heavy gaze. You know by now that it's only a matter of time before you love him.
"I'll miss you, too," you say softly. Joel eyes you, smirk turned soft again and reaches for you. He settles his palm on your thigh and you cover your hand with his.
When you get to the airport aren't many cars around and you're pretty sure the attendants won't yell at you for idling. Joel seems to think the same thing as he gets out of the truck to set your luggage on the ground. You leave your now-empty to-go mug in his car and throw your arms around him when he gets to the curb with your suitcase. His chest rumbles in amusement but he hugs you back, one palm rubbing between your shoulder blades until you pull away.
"Thank you for --"
"Nope," he interrupts you. "No thanks allowed." He hands you your backpack and you shoulder it. "I'll pick you up on Wednesday," he says.
You wave him off. "I get in way too late, don't worry about it --"
His hand cups your cheek and the words sputter out in your throat. "I'll be here," he says again.
"I'll call you," you say. "When I get there." It sounds like a question.
His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Please do."
"Thanks for the tea --"
"Now, what did I just say?"
You wrinkle your nose at him and he rolls his eyes before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss just a little though it remains chaste, mouths closed as his thumb strokes your cheek once, twice, before he pulls away. It's the kind of kiss that feels fond, feels familiar. A kiss that becomes routine and for a second you imgaine the press of your mouths a thousand times over just like this.
"Safe flight, sweetheart."
You smile at him and grab your suitcase before you stand here kissing him all day. "Bye, Joel."
6:04 am: you make it to your gate okay?
You send him a picture of your breakfast sandwich and the sun rising through the window, painting the sky purple and orange.
6:05 am: don't text and drive!
He replies with a photo of a full mug of coffee on his counter. It's a silly one, a dinosaur wearing a Santa hat. You think Sarah got it for him as a gag gift.
6:05 am: home already. let me know when you land
6:06 am: will do. have a good day!
The flight is pretty okay. You spend the bumpy moments thinking about Joel's hand on your leg and get through it just fine. A shuttle takes you to your hotel and you have to hurry a bit to be ready for your first panel.
You're busy all day. So tired by the time you get back to your room that you flop on the bed with a groan.
"Ugh," you say, face smushed into the sheets. You're tired and hungry and...you miss Joel and feel a little silly about it.
That sense of puppy love, as most people would call it, hasn't faded. Your feelings for Joel are more than the crush they were when you first started seeing each other but they still linger in the realm of infatuation. You like to look at him, to feel the solid warmth of him beside you, above you, underneath you. You like being near him. But you're also starting to love things. You love the way his voice sounds when he wakes up, the way he says your name over the phone, the way he asks you what you want, how you are, how your day was. You love to see him on your couch, in your kitchen, in your bed. You've started to miss him when he's not around.
And what you said to him in his truck is true. You do miss him. It's an ache that sits in the center of your chest, an ache that feels like the best kind of bruise -- because it comes from something good. And because you know it'll be soothed soon enough.
But, because you're only human, you doubt that it's as serious for him. Joel keeps his cards close to his chest and while you feel like you know him pretty well by now you also have so much to learn. So, though you really want to, you don't pick up the phone and call him. Maybe the next time you're away.
7:54 pm: day 1 done! ready to get in bed. why do men talk so much?
He texts back immediately.
7:54 pm: god knows. don't forget to order room service on the company dime. sweet dreams.
You laugh and do as he says.
The rest of the conference goes the same. By day three you're exhausted and your face hurts from smiling at so many people. Your shoes are no longer comfortable and as soon as the closing keynote ends you're out of there, changing into soft clothes and taking the shuttle to the airport. You text Joel a picture of your airport dinner and then your eye bags and he replies with a cute that has you giggling a little too loudly in public.
You just want to get home to him. Your own bed is a bonus.
But then your flight gets delayed. Twice. Joel tells you not to worry, he'll pick you up in the middle of the night if he has to. Once you board you get stuck on the tarmac for another half hour before finally taking off. It's a decidedly less relaxing experience because you're so anxious to be home but you make it. When you land it feels like you're sitting in your seat for ages. You're tired and feel gross and you want to go to bed. Your phone turns back on and you've got one text waiting for you.
10:34 pm: i'll be by baggage claim
That was 15 minutes ago. He must have been checking your flight in the air to get here at a reasonable time. God, you want to touch him. You want to stick your nose in his neck and inhale.
You try very hard not to run through the terminal to the escalator that goes down to arrivals. It seems to move really fucking slowly once you're on it. As soon as it gets far enough for you to see the baggage claim level and everyone waiting there your eyes search for him. You see some families, a few tired children sleeping in arms that hold them tenderly. A group of girls with a sign that reads WELCOME HOME RACHEL!
And then there's Joel.
Once you spot him it's hard to keep a smile from your face. He's standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the escalator. Jeans, jacket, boots, and a firm set to his jaw that might be intimidating to anyone else but to you it's familiar. It's him. Once he sees you he stands a little taller and you see his cheek twitch. If someone wasn't in front of you you'd be down the steps in seconds but you wait until you're at the bottom to race forward.
It's probably a bit dramatic. You drop your suitcase and backpack at your feet in front of him.
"Hi," you say, and then you throw your arms around his shoulders. Joel laughs.
"S'like you're comin' home from war, or somethin'," he says, though his hugs you back just as tightly. "Should'a made a sign."
"Feels like it." Your words are muffled by his shoulder.
"That bad, huh?" His palm drags up and down your spine. "Let's get you home, then."
Neither of you pull away. "I missed you," you say softly.
Joel breathes deep and pulls away, hand on the back of your head as he makes sure you're looking at him.
"Missed you, too," he says gruffly. Then he kisses you. It's less chaste than your goodbye kiss but still perfectly acceptable for airport arrivals, you think.
"You hungry?"
"I sent you a picture of my dinner!"
"Not what I asked." You shrug and tangle your fingers with his. His thumb strokes the back of your hand. "We'll get you somethin' on the way home."
"Do you want to stay over?" you ask in a rush, realizing too late he's got no reason to want to. It's late and tomorrow is a workday. "I'm just gonna shower and go to bed but I--"
Joel's nostrils flare. "If you want me to I will." Simple as that.
"Okay," you say. He squeezes your hand.
You walk in easy silence for a few moments. Once you're in the car you'll ask how his week was, tell him about the gossip you learned at the conference. You'll look at him the entire drive to your place, drinking your fill of him after three days without. Yeah, you're going to love him. It's just a matter of time.
"Thank you for coming to get me," you say.
Joel looks like he wants to argue but he allows it.
"Anytime," he says. It sounds like a promise.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Wayne comes home one day to Eddie behaving unusually - loudly narrating everything every time he leaves his room, playing his music quieter than usual but making abrupt loud noises when he’s in his room, checking on Wayne every ten minutes or so to make sure he’s enjoying his shows and asking if he wants tea, and generally bearing his biggest, wettest puppy dog eyes.
Now Wayne’s done this song and dance a few times, so after a few hours he gets up and makes his way to his nephew’s door, takes a moment to stop and listen-
And sure enough, he can hear the hushed whispers and giggles. Heaving a sigh, Wayne raps his knuckles against the flimsy wood. It’s immediately met with a flurry of scrambling from the other side.
To Eddie’s credit, it doesn’t even take until Wayne’s count of 10 before the door swings open, revealing his very ruffled nephew sporting a sunny grin and doing his best to look like he’s not taking up the entirety of the doorway on purpose.
“Alright, what’re you hidin’ in here this time?” Wayne asks, glancing at the bed. It’s a favourite hiding place of Eddie’s - where he’d hidden the stray cat, the raccoon, and any number of other strays he’s picked up.
“Hiding? I -uh - what are you talking about?” Eddie says it smoothly enough, but he’s eyes dart to the left briefly before he catches himself and looks back at Wayne, pulling his hair in front of his face in a display of nerves. Wayne glances over. The closet this time then.
“I ain’t born yesterday kiddo,” he says, shaking his head. “Now why don’t you quit bullshittin’ and open up that there door”
Eddie’s gaze follows his gesture to the closet, and then he turns back to Wayne, giving an indignant huff and puffing up like he’s gearing for a fight.
Wayne meets his gaze with an even one of his own and, after a moment, Eddie deflates. "Fine," he huffs and makes his way to the closet, shooting Wayne betrayed wounded-bird looks over his shoulder. Wayne just crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.
He's prepared for a lot of things, but what he's not expecting is for Eddie to swing the cupboard door open to reveal some fancy-looking lad, looking sheepish as all get out.
"Ed-" he says, slightly lost for words. Eddie and closet-boy exchange a glance, and Wayne feels shock go through him as he suddenly places that face. "Is that... is that the Harrington boy?"
Immediately, a guilty look crosses Eddie's face and Wayne groans. "Jesus H. Christ," he groans, putting his hand over his face.
When he looks up again, Eddie is giving him that wide-eyed pleading face of his that always comes with the strays. "Eddie, he ain't some stray you can just take in!" He protests.
Eddies face hardens just a little with that stubbornness he got from his mother. "C'mon Uncle Wayne. His parents are terrible when they even bother to be around!” he argues. "And I mean it’s probably for the best that they’re not there because they’re the worst kind of people but it's almost Christmas and he can’t just be there alone on Christmas! Did you raise me like that Wayne? Did you?"
Harrington seems to get past his surprise at Eddie’s sudden rant and he frowns, opens his mouth to protest. Eddie, apparently sensing this, claps a hand over his mouth and turns to Wayne , his righteous indignation switching right back to his best puppy-dog eyes cranked to full effect at Wayne.
And Wayne... well, he's never been able to say no to any of the strays Eddie's brought home yet.
#steddie#wayne munson#eddie munson#stranger things#ficlet#my ficlet#my writing#writing prompts#stranger things ficlet#this started out as a prompt and morphed into a ficlet idk idk idk
654 notes
·
View notes
Text
Silken Webs & Pirouettes - Miguel O’Hara x Reader
Summary - Miguel has plotted the entirety of his adult life to perfection, always in control and always respected. He owns a successful business that he buries himself in to forget what he left behind. People fear him, women throw themselves at him. Yet one thing remains strong for Miguel, order. When a clumsy little ballerina twirls into his life with no skills other than looking pretty and standing on her tip toes, Miguel is in for more than just pink ribbons and flushed cheeks. Alternate Universe with most of the characters included as seen in "Across the Spiderverse." Many cameos ahead. Miguel is a successful business owner but personality is canon. This is a steamy reader insert, Miguel x You! Enjoy and pls leave me lots of love and comments as it keeps me motivated <333
next chapter
one:
“Good, now turn.”
The strawberry blonde with bevelled locks complies, adorned in curled tresses and lilac cloth. It inches just below her bum. A twirling starlet for his hungry eyes. She catches them in a quick glance as she rounds her turn. Oh... Never mind then, they're unimpressed. She halts.
"Did I tell you to stop?" His voice is firm, cold, devoid of any sweetness like the warm and awfully bitter joe her father drinks this time of year when the ground is colored cream and the snowfall kisses flushed cheeks. The southern drawl peeks through her sweet, mousy little voice to greet the man before her. The suit he wears today is far too tiny for the muscles laced into is carmel skin, just like the rest of the ones stuffing his closet full.
"Well no but... I only did cause I can tell you don't like it."
He raises a sharp brow, fingertip scratching at the fresh stubble greeting his skin.
"You're right. I don't... but that doesn't mean I gave you permission to stop."
Lacy turns red, and yet the doll gives him another turn immediately. His eyes fall upon her bum. It's small and shaped prettily. Petite like the rest of her. But this lilac, ribbon clad number isn't pretty like her. Not to his eyes.
"You look like a slut."
Miguel is bold with his words, never once allowing his brain a second to gloss them over with second thought. Pretty, poor little Lacy gulps. She is flushed again.
"Well ain't that how you like me to look?"
He stares for a moment, tapping his index against his chin. He blinks slow, and assess her words for a moment. Then he stands, no- he towers rather over her small frame. She would cower if it wouldn't make her look so pathetic in front of the man she loves. He walks closer, words lacing each step he takes.
"Men like to imagine what's underneath. Like a Christmas present, Lacy. No one gets excited when it’s already been torn open... unwrapped.”
She gulps, icy blue eyes raising to meet his as he finally reaches her. A warm hand, even in December's icy clutches, meets her face. So gentle for a man so rough with her in silken sheets. It's why, of course. Why she loves him, a thing he can never know. He would kick her to the curb, and that's even scarier than keeping it a treasured little secret for her and her alone. She knows this because of Amber, the auburn haired girl and Rowan... the other blonde. Only three of the dozens that whispered those dreadful three words and got kicked to the concrete curb. It's just sex, that's all it is and ever allowed to be. That's what he told them all from the beginning, so they should know better.
Yet even through following these cruel rules, smart, sexy lacy adorned in lilac knows much better. She pouts, pink lip fighting not to quiver at the thought clutching her frozen and cold. His thumb gently strokes her alabaster cheek, and she whispers.
"You're growin' tired of me, ain't you?" She whispers it like it's the most heinous thing a human could say. His silence, the gentle exhale of breath that she hears just above the mandatory office Christmas playlist humming very quietly behind his oak door, to his dismay of course, all of it confirms her deep rooted fear. But maybe? He parts his lips to speak, her hope sprouts like springtime flowers in snow. But then?
"Sir, excuse me but this is urgent."
He stares at his pathetic little Lacy for a moment longer, eyes still pouring into hers as he responds to the pencil skirt peeking through the oak.
"What is it, Cindy?"
She pauses, "Sir, Javi had to leave due to an unfortunate family emergency."
Lacy's eyes drop, another moment longer of this torture and she's certain to start watering up. The dormant space between his eyebrows is pinched, almost pitiful looking. Yet his thumb still grazes her soft skin. So capable of focusing on his torn open present and the pencil skirt all at once.
"Okay?" He sounds annoyed, and he is.
"Sir, he was set to interview the new hire today. She's been waiting downstairs for about an hour."
He lets out another breath, sharper and more poisoned with undeniable annoyance. His hand drops from Lacy now.
"Then have one of my many other capable employees get the job done, Miss Moon. It can't be that difficult."
She winces, staring at her cautious reflection in his shiny tiles.
"Sir, tonight is the company's annual white elephant, remember? Morale? Miss Drew is hosting?"
He hates this time of year, truly and utterly despises it. And stupid little Cindy Moon? He hates her too, right now. His index and thumb lift to pinch at the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in exasperation.
"Then tell the hire to go find another place to work. We don't need any more useless hands around here."
Cindy frowns at that.
"Sir, with all due respect, we really could use extra hands around here... s-she's been waiting for an hour and it's the holiday season, she left twenty voicemails in the past week alone. Besides, after Daily Bugle's smear campaign about the lack of morale here, we would be stupid to make more enemies for them to put under the spotlight."
He hates her more now, because she's right. Lacy's head is still bowed but her peripheral is engullphed by emptiness once Miguel leaves her, collapsing onto the Italian leather throne tucked away in is desk.
"The stupid music and blue elephant wasn't enough, huh?"
Cindy Moon, she is payed enough for this of course, yet she is still frowning nonetheless.
"S' white elephant..." she cautiously corrects in a near silent whisper. His chocolate eyes narrow as he looks upon the girl. Her rapunzel-like, jet black hair tied up in a neat bun atop her head.
A moment passes, then another. Her horribly true words echo in his mind on repeat until he finally gives in.
"Send her up in five, I'll handle it. Get Lacy's coat, have someone escort her to her car."
If strawberry Lacy's frown could be any more prominent, it would. Yet that doesn't seem possible. He ignores her well, stacking his scattered papers into a neat pile and shaking his head as Cindy leads Lacy out.
Then? He waits for the mystery girl waiting anxiously downstairs... you.
chap 1 song 🎧 :
#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#miguel spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel x reader#miguel smut#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel 2099#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#au!miguel o’hara#Spotify
325 notes
·
View notes
Text
In case I haven't mentioned it yet I got a pc for christmas from my bf (don't ask why I ain't the wife yet idk the answer either) so i bought resi8 and downloaded a free cam mod sooooo batshit theories here we goooo!!!
I think there's something to be said about this photo. I know capcom probably doesn't layer their games as heavily as I overthink them but this was still created by someone and like I just wanna talk about it in further context of the game.
Alcina is literally so gorgeous. Even sick and dying she's pretty. The way Miranda even is by her side in her goddess form, far from any aspect of human, holding the cadou away from herself wary as if it has a mind of its own (how is it implanted? is it surgical? does it burrow? must be painful...). Al is the first person who it was preformed flawlessly on according to the fandom wiki (though I like to believe Moreau was technically the first but with his severe deformity he is deemed a failure).
Also dudes I also wanna touch on the fact that Alcina's skin is like... gray. The white seems to be an attempt at covering it up. She's potentially dead or damn near it thanks to the cadou.
you can see the patchiness of her makeup if you zoom in. Her skin isn't white. I mean maybe I'm late to this discovery but like whoa bros. I wanna dissect a developers brain. I wanna know everything. I wish the series could be expanded on more just for the lore alone bc I do be goin crazy over these literal pixels.
140 notes
·
View notes
Text
jungkook angst au where you move to a new city and meet a very funny and charismatic coworker who you quickly befriend named jungkook. except it's not really a friendship because he keeps flirting with you and is very direct with how much he touches you (he gives you the nickname bambi because you're clumsy at things). the kicker is you're in a long term relationship with a guy you're SURE going to marry one day except one night you and jungkook share a drunken kiss after an the office christmas party and your completely lost in him because he breathes you in like you're air and his lungs are shrivelling in his chest and he stares at you like face is carved of the most precious gems on this earth. you don't sleep with him but you go home with him and he touches you with hands as gentle as sunlight and scathing as the burning star itself. you end up telling your boyfriend the truth right away and your relationship ends which you're so devastated by that you end up drunk calling jungkook and filled with guilt and angry towards yourself you promise him nothing will happen between you two again and he reluctantly agrees but he's angry and hurt because his harbouring a major crush on you. but you can't get him out of your mind no matter how hard you try and you end up drunk and naked in his bed a few nights later. feels too good to be true and it isn't because after fucking you brainless night after night and covering your body is tender kisses he tells you he ain't looking for anything serious and doesn't want to lead you on. he says he would feel put off if you ended your relationship to date him. so you pretend your relationship is not over and act like nothing he does bothers you even when you find out that he made out with another co-worker of yours (sara) and sleeps with her from time to time because that's none of your business. and then all of sudden he wants you to meet his brother and he's wanting to go on dates where you take pictures like couples do. he shows those pictures to his family and tells you that his mom thinks you'd have cute children together. but you're still not dating. but jungkook gets mad and pissy when he sees you talking to other guys, especially your other male co-workers, which you always to apologise for because apparently you lack "tactfulness" and do it to hurt his feelings. you try and keep it nonchalant and don't expect too much of him when he suddenly asks one late morning if you're still seeing your boyfriend and if you'll travel back home to spend time with him. you answer yes because you don't want to put him off and he goes quiet. when he complains about your sex life you try and spice things up without giving to much of yourself to him. when that doesn't work you give him everything. you talk him out of bad mood swings, you help him dissect his thoughts and uncover things about himself, you try things you said you never would to make him happy. he isn't statisfied but then he continues to do things that make you feel see and adored in ways you've never experienced before. yet it's all overshadowed by idiotic fights because allegedly one drunken night jungkook had asked to officially start dating you but you don't remember this at all and still think it's a fwbs situation. now when you give less, he's more hurt and offended while you think you're protecting yourself until one day you have a massive fight while he's away at his brothers wedding and you tell him you hate him but really you don't you're basically in love with him but now for him it's really over and he tells you such in your final conversation when you scream horrid things at each other and cry because you don't want it to be over but he doesn't care about you or feel the same way about anymore but get this! your company has assigned you on the same international project and you're stuck living together for four months in a shared apartment.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#and they were roommates#🫠🫠🫠🫠#i had to put this out somewhere#jungkook fic#jungkook pov
156 notes
·
View notes
Text
Get well soon / Ghost x Soap
Kinktober #17 - Sickfic
Gaz takes one look at him before the morning briefing. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?”
Soap waves him off. It’s not that bad, he keeps telling himself. It’s not like he’s a kid anymore; he can tackle terrorists; some puny flu ain’t a problem.
And it ain't, until he collapses.
Ever since he was a kid, Johnny didn’t get sick often. A hardy highland bairn and all that. But when he did, it was always bad. His joints hurt, his head pounding, his stomach was all wobbly, unable to hold anything down, and he had a fever that would make anyone worry, if not straight up calling an ambulance.
Every time, it only lasted for a few days, but it was nasty and left Johnny exhausted.
Soap hasn’t been sick in years. Since he’s made it to SAS. It was a miracle, what with all the travelling, bad weather and harsh conditions they had to endure. Yet, at the same time, they were in top shape. Johnny’s life depended on his body functioning like a well-oiled machine, and he made every effort to keep it that way.
That’s why he is surprised – no – shocked when he wakes up with a sore throat, achy joints and a headache. They haven’t been deployed for several weeks, so it’s only typical British winter; wet and freezing - he has to deal with. There’s no way it is bringing him down, especially right before his leave to spend Christmas with his parents and siblings in Scotland.
Unless, of course, it is and in a rather spectacular manner at that. Gaz takes one look at him before the morning briefing. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?” Soap waves him off. It’s not that bad, he keeps telling himself. It’s not like he’s a kid anymore; he can tackle terrorists; some puny flu ain’t a problem.
When he’s lucky to make it to the bathroom before he throws up his lunch, he starts to have some doubts. Still, he has duties to attend to and no time to be sick. Who else is going to harass some poor recruits? And the damn paperwork isn’t going to fill and sign by itself.
He soldiers on as usual, with the sole example of skipping the gym; Soap is happy he’s able to drag his sorry arse about. No way he could lift any weight like this. Some bloke in the mess hall makes an off-handed comment about Soap looking like shit. Soap ignores it, which gets him a bunch of raised eyebrows. Soap has a reputation as someone you don’t want to mess with.
Today, he only grunts out some half-hearted insult as he goes about his business. Unaware of a pair of brown eyes watching him intently from behind the skull mask.
It only gets worse from there. The headache is absolutely killing him, no matter the amount of painkillers he’s already had. The bad knee aches and itches and twitches, making him even more fidgety than usual. Soap is also reasonably sure he’s running a fever. He should drink a lot of water. Would, too, if not for his damn upset stomach. He’s downright miserable.
He stands in the rain, raincoat doing nothing to keep the humid air from clinging to him. He’s so cold, shivering like a bloody chihuahua. Looking at his watch, Soap sighs. Still an hour to go. “No slacking off, keep up!” he hollers at the recruits who are drenched in rain and mud. At least he’ll be done for the day. Sweet Jesus, how he looks forward to his bed! Soap daydreams for a second, imagining the warm blanket and the quiet to soothe his headache.
Blinking the image away, he sees one of the recruits struggle behind. Soap is ready to go to him and make him do at least fifty mud-kissing push-ups. He takes a step forward and pauses as the world spins around him. Johnny takes a deep breath, trying to keep his balance. It only makes it worse, somehow. He needs to sit down but is far too unstable to attempt it. Instead, he stands there, praying the dizziness would go away. He can wait it out; he can do it. The moment his vision darkens, and the low hum fills his ears, he knows he’s fucked. And there’s nothing he can do.
The last thought to go through his head is that the nice thing about passing out is that you’re not present to the embarrassment of it.
He wakes up and, for a fleeting moment, thinks he’s feeling much better. It’s a lie. A few seconds later, his hand shoots to his forehead, clutching at it and moaning weekly in pain. It’s not a headache – well, it’s not just the headache. There’s something more tangible about it now.
Soap startles as someone opens his mouth and puts something small, round, bitter and disgusting on his tongue. Then, he feels the cold, hard edge of the glass being pressed against his lower lip. Someone cups the back of his head to steady him, but it hurts, and he tries to make it stop, so Soap tries to turn away. The hand simply grabs a handful of his mohawk and forces him to stay in place as the glass is carefully pitched, and he’s gulping down a bit of cool water along with the pills. There’s some more water being slowly poured into his mouth in small increments, and, finally, his head is laid back on the pillow.
Johnny waits before he tries to open his eyes. It’s thankfully dark in the room, the blinders shut, lights off except for the small desk lamp; its light warm and soft enough for him to bear with it.
He turns his head, surprised to see Ghost there. “You’re an idiot,” Ghost says in the most flat way imaginable. “You knew you were sick and just kept pushing yourself.”
“It was fine... until it wasn’t,” Johnny sighs, his voice a whisper, as he wants to avoid overusing his throat out of fear of a coughing fit.
“Yeah, genius, it usually is,” Ghost stands so abruptly that Soap thinks for a second he’s going to hurt him. Instead, he leaves, leaving Johnny alone, confused and unable to process what just happened. Not with how his brain is mushed with the fatigue and a fever.
When he wakes up again, he actually feels much better. The headache is gone, leaving behind a different kind of pain. Gingerly touching the back of his head, Soap figures he must’ve hit it when he collapsed. His throat is still sore, and he feels awfully weak but still a lot better. Whatever the pills Ghost gave him, they worked.
As is often the case, he must’ve summoned Simon with his thoughts because there’s a soft knock, a brief pause, and then Simon enters. He’s lost the jacket and traded the mask for a balaclava. Moreover, he’s holding two cups of what’s presumably a tea and has a book tucked under his arm.
Setting the cups down and sitting on the chair by Johnny’s bed, he looks much softer than the last time. “How are you feeling?”
“Better... the pills worked,” Soap rasps, his voice rough. Almost like Simon’s, he realises.
“Good. Here, drink this,” he nudges the cup to Johnny. On second glance, only Simon’s has tea; Soap’s is something else. “It’s supposed to help with the fever and sore throat.”
Johnny takes the cup, cradling it against his chest. Who would’ve thought that infamous Ghost could be so sweet? “Thank you, LT.”
The drink is vile. Sour and weirdly sweet, with a hint of bitterness and tastes like about the half of “My First Chemistry Kit” mixed together. Soap forces it down his throat, nearly choking on it. Setting the cup down, he focuses on Ghost, who opens his book.
“You don’t have to stand guard by my bedside, Ghost. I’ll probably not die of cold,” Soap smiles.
Ghost doesn’t say anything for a while. It’s obvious he’s hesitating about something. Soap, for once, doesn’t push him. “Do you want me to go?”
“No... I just... didn’t want you to feel obliged or something,” Johnny hurriedly clarifies. Having Ghost here is nice. Not being alone, feeling like he’s cared for.
“I saw it... when you passed out,” Ghost admits, closing his book and setting it aside. There’s something about his voice that makes Johnny focus more. For a moment, his thoughts clarify enough to offer a possibility. Ghost was worried about him.
Soap blinks a few times. Oh. Damn. The whole talk about Soap being an idiot suddenly makes much more sense. “I’m sorry.”
Ghost nods, his gaze intense and warm. It doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything else, so Johnny relaxes. Not for long, however, as realisation hits him. “Wait a minute. Weren’t you supposed to be up north? Checking out the newest SAS candidate batch or something?”
“I switched with Kyle,” Ghost says, way too casually for Soap not to get immediately suspicious. It’s not like Ghost to get out of the assignment, even one he might consider menial. He must notice Soap’s furrowed brows as he sighs. “Fine. I asked Kyle to cover for me so I could keep an eye on you. I knew you were being reckless and stubborn but didn’t know how far you would take it.”
Soap almost takes offence. Nearly says that he didn’t ask for a bloody nanny. Then he reconsiders because he’s laying in bed, feeling like shit, after he collapsed on the job. Creepin’ Jesus, Ghost is right. Right to call him reckless and right to keep an eye on him. “Thank you, I guess…,” Johnny mutters, averting his gaze. At least he can blame the blush on fever.
“I don’t want your thanks, I want you to do better,” Ghost says with a conviction that startles Soap a little. “I need you to do better, Johnny. I need you to have my six out there, but I can’t bloody well trust you with it when you don’t even have your own shit together, can I?”
Soap feels his jaw drop as he stares at Ghost. That’s some harsh truth right here. And it hurts something crazy because he longs for Ghost’s approval and trust. He yearns for him in a way that would get him fired from the force. “I just… didnae want tae bother anyone.”
What little can be seen of Ghost’s eyebrows disappear under the balaclava as he raises them in clear astonishment. “Didn’t want to bother anyone? You nearly gave me a heart attack, Johnny.” The way Ghost says that, the way he drops his gaze and digs his gloved hands into his knees, is stirring something in Johnny. Hope.
Soap fidgets with the hem of the blanket out of sheer necessity to do something with his hands. There’s a lot going on in his tired, slightly delirious, overheated head. Too much not to end up in some serious trouble. “Kiss me?” He blurts out like a madman he is.
Simon’s head whips right up, eyes blown wide with shock. It’s precious to see him like this, but he regains his composure quickly. “Johnny… you’re not thinking straight.”
“Yer right aboot that,” Johnny smirks, unable to resist the call of the particularly bad pun. He sobers up quickly. “I want it, Simon. Do ye? If not, just say the word, and we can just… blame it on the fever.”
“What I want is not important,” Simon tries to buy some time to think.
“I’m not hearing a no, Ghost,” Soap presses him on, licking his lips on purpose, just to tease the other man.
Simon huffs out a quiet laugh before he tucks the balaclava up on his nose, revealing thin, scarred lips, blond stubble and strong jaw. There’s no hesitation when he gets up from the chair slowly, leaning on the bed and closer to Johnny, whose mind is a neverending repeat of “yesyesyesyesyes…”.
Johnny angles his head up and with Simon so close, closes his eyes. He feels Simon’s breath on his face, there’s a trace of cigarette and a mint he took earlier. Johnny parts his lips slightly, waiting, waiting…
And Simon does kiss him. On the forehead. The absolute wanker!
He stays close as he says: “Let’s have this talk when you feel better.”
#call of duty#ghost mw2#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#ghost x soap#ghostsoap#soap mw2#soapghost#ghoap#kinktober 2023#kinktober#fluff
160 notes
·
View notes
Text
Established Relationship Steddie Fics
Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 💌
love confessions in line
steddieas_shegoes
“Why do we have to be here so early? My dinner hasn’t even digested properly yet,” Robin complained.
And, okay. It was cold and there were a lot of people standing in line outside of the only Walmart carrying the very specific guitar amp Eddie wanted. He’d called every Walmart in Indiana. Multiple times.
But he had to go all out for Christmas this year. Eddie had already said he’d gotten Steve something he’ll never outdo, never even believe. Obviously, that meant Steve had to do better than the Metallica hoodie that was stashed in his closet for the last four months.
Words : 1,369 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Guts
AnnetheCatDetective
After a difficult visit from his parents, Steve relearns loving his recovering body. Just knowing he's wanted the way that he is isn't enough... but getting outside of himself might be.
Words : 2,578 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
fixer-upper
mourningshowers
Steve wakes up the morning of their two-month We-Finally-Got-Our-Shit-Together anniversary to find Eddie staring at him, crouched over at the foot of the bed with his round unblinking eyes like a fucking gargoyle. It should be creepy. Steve is used to this, though, so now it’s just kind of a thing that Eddie does.
“What,” Steve says groggily, wiping the drool from his mouth.
“Nothing, angel, go back to sleep,” Eddie trills.
Words : 20,596 Chapters : 3/3 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
your electric touch
sourw0lfs
“Don’t move! Whatever you do, Eds, do not fucking move!” Steve hollers from his spot in the doorway.
Without a question, Eddie freezes, eying him with a questioning gaze. He’s standing somewhere between the pool and the house, trying and failing to find what has so much fear working its way into Steve’s face.
“One of the lines just snapped and fell,” Steve explains, eyes on the area around Eddie but never directly on him. “Right into the puddle.”
Words : 1,093 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
if i ain't got you
vampbites
He shuts the fridge and turns around to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, letting out a quiet sigh. Eddie’s back is turned to him so he can only see the movement of his shoulders as he scrubs the dishes harder than he ought to.
He’s still pissed, then.
Words : 1,425 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
The Photo File
Crowgirl
‘When were you going to tell me?’
Words : 1,633 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
Stimming
hotluncheddie
He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing.
So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space.
Words : 2,547 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
checking it twice
cranberrymoons
“Hi,” he says, and – fuck. It’s only been a couple months, hasn’t it? How is he already –
“Hey,” Eddie says. His smile matches Steve’s as he comes around the counter, slinging a dish towel over his shoulder as he goes. He catches Steve around the waist. “You look nice tonight.”
Words : 661 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
The Cat
digitaalbe
the one where Eddie Munson finds a cat, and then he keeps it.
Words : 1,538 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
Dustin Henderson vs The Apocalypse... Probably
writteninthewolfstar
Dustin wakes up from a movie night with the Party to find he's all alone in Steve's house. With no other logical explanation, he must conclude that he is the only person left on the planet... Until he goes upstairs to find something even more horrifying-
His best friend making out with his Dungeon Master!
Words : 1,620 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences
AO3 : x
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bubz's 12 Days of Ficmas: Day 7 Christmas Dinner (Johnny Sawyer and Family)
Day 7 of ficmas coming right up, delving back into video game TCM instead of movie TCM.
Notes: Minors DNI, SFW, fluff, No specific pronouns or descriptions of characters used.
"What do you mean Drayton said no?"
You asked Johnny incredulously standing in his bedroom at Nancy's
"Darlin' I mean just that, he said he wasn't makin no Christmas dinner. Nubbins apparently already ate all the meat for it anyway."
"What do you mean Nubbins ate it all?! I've been saving that for Christmas for like a week!"
You pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers as Johnny laughed from his spot sitting on his bed. You couldn't stand the thought of Christmas coming and going and not having any kind of dinner, even if you now lived with your boyfriend and his family of cannibals.
"What did mama say?"
You asked him referring to Nancy, Nancy adored you so you know as soon as she caught wind of Drayton saying no to you that she would set it straight.
"Mama? I didn't ask mama yet , why?"
"You think mama would be too keen on Drayton saying no to Christmas dinner of all things?"
You asked with a smile, already knowing the answer by the look on Johnny's face as he also shared a shit eating grin.
"Darlin' you and I both know mama would be distraught at the thought of us missing Christmas dinner"
"Then it looks like I have someone to go talk to about Christmas dinner then"
You stated heading toward his bedroom door knowing that Nancy was home. You followed the sound of commotion into the kitchen and were met with not only Nancy but Bubba and Sissy were also over.
"Hey there sugar, do you want any tea? I just made it?"
Nancy asked as soon as she saw you enter the kitchen. You nodded at her giving her a smile.
"Thank you mama, but before tea I need to talk to y'all about something"
You said catching the attention of all three members of the family as you heard Johnny's deep chuckle from his bedroom.
"What is it?"
Sissy asked confused from her place next to Bubba at the table.
"Drayton told me we aren't allowed to have Christmas dinner"
"He said what?!"
Nancy exclaimed, turning from the tea kettle to face you.
"No Christmas dinner? whoever heard of such a silly thing"
Sissy agreed, Bubba made a series of sad grunts in protest himself.
"Johnny said that Drayton said that Nubbins had turned the meat into beef jerky or something and has already gone through it all even though Johnny told him not too"
You explained to the family as you took a seat at the kitchen table across from Sissy and Bubba.
"I done told that boy I don't know how many times that, that meat was for Christmas dinner.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear is how the old saying went as Nubbins and Drayton themselves stumbled in to Nancy's house after a long day of trying to and successfully rounding up escaped meat.
"Drayton Sawyer! You've got some explaining to do"
Nancy said as Drayton walked into the kitchen. When his eyes met the four of you sitting around the kitchen table he knew what she was mad about. Johnny also walked into the kitchen when he heard Drayton arrive and not wanting to miss the show he took his spot next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you close.
"Nance honey now wait a minute-"
"No Drayton, you've obviously had your time to talk, now I'm gonna take my turn. Not have a Christmas dinner? are you crazy? When in all the years of heading this family have we not had Christmas dinner?"
"Nancy I only said that cause we ain't got enough meat for it"
Drayton desperately tried to spare himself from the onslaught Nancy was dishing out.
"And who's fault is it we ain't got enough meat? Maybe if you had been watching Nubbins like I had told you to do."
Johnny's chest began rumbling with a hearty chuckle under where your head was placed on it as Nancy continued to yell at Drayton. Sissy and Bubba were also obviously enjoying the show of Drayton finally being put in his place.
"That just won't do Drayton, you and Nubbins need to go out there and get us some meat for Christmas dinner. Don't even think of coming back to this house until you got us some meat"
Drayton's eyes widened at Nancy's proclamation. Johnny, not being able to hold it back any longer began to laugh out loud at Drayton. Sissy gave a giggle and Bubba started spewing out happy noises as Drayton was being dressed down.
Drayton's eyes locked with yours and suddenly you realized he had figured out who told Nancy.
"You" Drayton began "You think this is funny?! You think me gettin yelled at is funny you good for no-"
Johnny stood up from his spot suddenly, sizing Drayton up as he locked eyes with him.
"Don't push it old man, you better watch your mouth and go out there and do what mama said too"
Drayton shot Johnny a nasty look but turned and headed for the door, yelling for Nubbins to go get his ass back in the truck as he let the front door slam behind him.
Johnny took back his seat next to you, replacing his arm around your shoulders and placing his empty hand on your thigh.
"Somethin' tells me this is gonna be the best Christmas dinner we've had in a long time"
Johnny said giving you a smile you happily returned. You couldn't help but agree with him as you felt that this Christmas would be just a bit sweeter then most.
#slasher x reader#slasher fandom#12 days of ficmas#ficmas#texas chainsaw massacre#tcm the game#johnny sawyer#johnny sawyer x reader#johnny slaughter x reader#johnny tcm
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, here's how I think the tfa Decepticons would handle a Human Error incident (suddenly turned human with zero logical explanation)
-Megatron ain't doing great. God dammit he's fucking TINY. Just when he's gotten his body back after god knows how long of being a severed head on the floor, he's vulnerable AGAIN. He's still up and functional, doing whatever needs to be done and not letting his present weakness interfere with his goals, but he's in full on paranoia mode. He trusts nobody and he's not going outside if he doesn't have to. Too many things that could go terribly wrong while he's a pathetic creature of flesh with no fucking armor plating and no rotors to fly with. Doesn't give a fuck about trying anything he could only do as a human, he's too busy trying not to die. He'll only eat the nightmare that is organic food if he's in a human body long enough to nearly starve. He'll never admit that it actually tastes better than energon. His pride would never allow it.
-Starscream is miserable and will LOUDLY bitch to everyone present whether they care or not. Unlike Megs, however, it's less in a "I have no armor plating, anything could crush me" way and more in a "EW EW EW WHY IM I SQUISHY GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF OH PRIMUS IM HIDEOUS" way. He's grabbing the nearest paper bag and putting it over his head. He's not risking ANYONE taking pictures of this little incident to blackmail him. He's especially angry that he can't fly. What do you mean he has to walk everywhere like some kind of monoformer??? What the fuck??? He'd normally try to off Megatron while he's vulnerable, but slag that, he's vulnerable too, and he doesn't even have his null rays to slag him with anyway. Convinced human food is going to be disgusting, pleasantly surprised when it's not. Gets a little obsessed with garlic bread, but we've all been there.
-Blitzwing has lost not one altmode, but two, and given how reflexive his transformation is, he's going a bit stir crazy. Doesn't help that he's lost his wings either. To try and cope, he's got the zoomies something awful, and tries running around the mountain base, jumping off whatever high surfaces he thinks won't kill him for a taste of altitude again, laughing his ass off as Random when he hits the bottom (very uncomfortable for him that he only has one face, too). However, in spite of his physical discomfort, and how generally overwhelming the situation is, he is at least a little excited that he can partake in human culture without consequences. He gets swept up in an arcade for a couple hours and has the time of his life, and tries as much earth food as he can. He's generally the only reason his teammates haven't starved yet because he's the only one willing to go out and get it. He has decided he really likes pizza, beer and chocolate. Genuinely a little sad he won't be able to eat it in his normal form.
-Lugnut is a bit disappointed that he's been given such an unworthy form incapable of serving his liege. How can he aid the GLORY of Megatron and the Decepticon cause when he is so small, so weak, so... Organic? But, he picks himself up and vows to do everything in his power to remain useful. And that starts with testing his limits to see how much use he can be. When he sees Blitzwing jumping off cliffs, he's certain his comrade's had the same idea and joins in, determined to find the threshold for his new body's pain tolerance. It is not as high as he would like. He can't really see as well now that he has one eye instead of his usual five, so he kinda keeps falling off high places anyway even after he's done doing it intentionally. Eventually tries organic food because he needs to fuel up to be of any use, but still loudly condemns it as inferior to energon. He kinda gets a kick out of knowing it's made from organic beings, though. He feels like he's turning some of the life on this useless planet towards a good cause by using its energy.
-Shockwave was already having a really weird day, falling through the space bridge and ending up on earth of all places. But as nice as it was to eschew his cover for a bit and catch up with his true comrades, it was kind of undercut by being suddenly even tinier than his usual disguise and significantly less durable. Not too fond of losing his extendable reach, either. Though he may not be too thrilled, he's still determined to make himself useful. More useful than the two idiots launching themselves off a cliff, anyway. He does a bit of research into basic self care and how to not die in general, as well as trying to figure out what did this to them and how to reverse it. Not opposed to trying earth food, he admits he's curious, if a bit intimidated by how varied it is. Learns he's got a bit of a sweet tooth, ends up mildly addicted to baked goods. Especially cheesecake. Once this whole humanity business is over, he starts a small side project on an internal filter that makes some organic matter edible just so he can keep eating it.
-Nobody takes their newfound humanity worse than Blackarachnia. She already hated being partially organic, but now the detestable, disgusting side of her makes up 100% of her frame. It feels like the final nail in the coffin. She's completely shut down, she just can't take what she's become, unsure whether this nightmare will ever end. She's not holding out on Shockwave being able to fix the issue. It never got magically resolved the first time it happened, why would it now? Her only cold comfort is the other cons have to suffer with her. She's not eating human food. If she starves, she starves, but she's not stooping to that level. She didn't before, and she sure as hell won't now.
54 notes
·
View notes
Note
Because I think it would be really interesting and funny - can you rank the Pit Babe characters on your Alan&Pete scale? I'm curious to see where you're at with some of them lmao. Least to Favorite (though I know who your fave already is, lol).
Only if you want to tho, lol.
@slayerkitty, honestly, this list could just be these two lying bitches:
Big Red is not on this list since he is the big bad, but since I have no idea what the plot actually is, take all of this with a grain of salt. I wrote that I think all of them have superpowers since Big Red was collecting them like X-Men's William Stryker for his super mutant army, so I think Charlie's superpower is mind control, and I think Way's is controlling people's emotions.
WHICH PISSES ME OFF!
Babe was the prized super kid, so I think Big Red is pulling out all the stops to get his trophy racer back including sending all the other super kids to manipulate Babe with their superpowers, so let me rank them from dead-to-me to love-of-my-life:
The One I'm Ready to Box - Charles
Charles keeps moving Barbie's head and body to face him. He never lets Barbie turn away from him. Then, when Barbie is clearly upset, Charles continues to kiss him, which is why I think he his mind controlling Barbie. When his arm was in the sling, Babe could push him away before Charles could start his mind control bullshit. Sometimes, it's noticeable when Babe's face softens, which should come off as sweet like "ah, look how he drops his defenses around Charlie" BUT LOOK AT THE WAY HE DROPS HIS DEFENSES AROUND CHARLIE! Charles doesn't even know how to drive, yet Babe gave him a car. Charlie's dick game may be strong, but mind control is stronger.
10/10 Petes - It's on sight.
The One I'm Disappointed In - Waymond
Waymond had me the first two episodes. I was in his second-lead-syndrome corner, then he flipped the script in the third episode, and now I can't unsee the red flags. In episode four, I noticed twice how he touched Barbie, which prompted a shift in Barbie's demeanor. Much like Charles, I would love to believe that Waymond brings happiness to Babe's life, which is the reason Babe looks less sad when Waymond touches him, but HE LOOKS LESS SAD WHEN WAYMOND TOUCHES HIM! I think Waymond is controlling Babe's emotions, yet Babe still doesn't love him. It's the only saving grace for Waymond. Charles is using his powers to make Barbie love him, but Waymond isn't.
9/10 Alans - I'm gonna yell at him, then punch him.
The One Who Is Obvious - Jeffery
Jeffery is going to be with Alan, so I can't fully hate him since I love Alan. His superpower is apparently seeing the future, which makes sense why he was opposed to touch in the second episode, and that makes him useful in my touch=superpower theory for Charles and Waymond, so I hate him a little less. BUT if he had anything to do with Barbie's car going up in flames, so he could ensure Charles got a racing spot, -murder-
8/10 Petes - One wrong move and I'll end him where he stands.
The One Who Just Sucks - Winifred
Winifred is just a little bitch, but God is he annoying. I don't wanna know what he is saying because I'm sure it's as annoying as his face whining all the time. Only five episodes in, and the man still ain't tired of getting his ass handed to him by Barbie and Kimberly. Whatever he is plotting is dumb. Whatever he is complaining about is stupid. Whatever he is doing is already a failure.
7/10 Alans - I'm gonna push him into a real Christmas Tree, so he'll get scratched up and cry about it.
The One Who Is Gonna Suck - Decanus
Dean has yet to do anything solid, which means he is just waiting to fuck us over. I haven't seen him race or work on a car, so I'm thinking he'll be pissed that Charles is doing all the things he wanted to do, and screw over the entire team regardless of the race's outcome. Jealously makes people do crazy things, but he is going to be with Winner, so homie is going to go full crazy.
6/10 Petes - Anyone who fucks Whiny Winifred deserves to be slapped.
The Ones Who Ain't Loyal - North & Sonic
I simply don't trust them. They are too colorful in a show that's whole visual plot hinges on red versus blue. They need to pick a color. NOW.
5/10 Alans - I'll threaten them on work time, so they'll know I'm not afraid to lose my job if it means I can fight them.
The One Who Is Gonna Kill His Shitty Boss! - Kenta
Why is he still fucking with Big Red?! He would be much higher on this list but when Babe was fighting Big Red (both times), Kenta looked sad. If the flashback wouldn't have just showed Babe as a kid with his dad, I'd think Kenta was his actual brother. The way Babe yelled at him in the parking lot makes me think they have a long history, so I'm hoping once Kenta teams up with Kimberly, he'll be the good guy I know he can be.
4/10 Petes - If he kills his boss, he'll be number one in my heart forever.
The Pretty One - Peter
Pete is like a Lord of the Rings' elf. He is pretty. He is an archer. He is kinda sus. And he is the perfect ally. Much like those beautiful elves, I don't think he joined up with the blue team because he is a kind dude. This is for his own personal gain, which means he must have beef with Big Red; therefore, he has a superpower too. I think he heard Kenta or smelled Kenta's cigarette because Peter didn't turn around until Kenta turned around. He knew Kenta was there. And he sensed Waymond's emotion-changing powers too, so I'm okay with them being together (as long as he punches Waymond too).
3/10 Alans - Watching his every move . . . because I think he is pretty. Not because I think is he bad.
The One Who Will Solve It - Kimberly
Kim is a real one. He presents as red. He works for the reds. He is a red, and isn't ashamed of it. He hasn't faked his color, and in a perfect world, he'd be with Babe. I don't think he has a superpower, but if he did, it would be the power of common sense. He hates his coworker, Winifred, as any sane person would, so he gets the passenger seat in my car. He also got a handshake from Babe, so he already made friends with Babe. They would make a perfect pair. Barbie x Kimberly Ghost Ship is being captained by me.
2/10 Petes - We're frenemies!
The Main One - Barbie
Babe is the title character, and he is being manipulated and controlled by everyone around him, but . . . the boy is un pendejo. The first two episodes, he was a little too macho, and in episode three and four, he was un pendejo. He argued with Kenta when Kenta could have just kidnapped him, then he punched everyone on his way to Big Red's office, which makes no sense to walk directly up to the man who is going all out to get you back. He is in need of a good hug that does NOT lead to sex, and for someone to tell him he is more than his superpower (which is . . . being awesome at everything?).
1/10 Kanghans - I'm upset at him and for him all at once.
The One I Love - Alan
My man has committed no wrongs. He is amazing. He is fantastic. He is beauty. He is grace. He should slap all these fucking liars in the face.
But he won't because he is too pure for this world.
No Petes. No Alans. No Kanghan. Just love.
#pit babe#pit babe the series#trust no one#based off of nothing but vibes and colors#charles is a swipe left#alan is swipe right#and everyone else falls in between
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
coffee at midnight, part 6
John "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader
Pure domesticity with Soap, and meeting old friends. Your feelings are less clearer. (4,9k)
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
READ ON AO3
A/N: i lied. i couldn't wait any longer lmao
Everything changes – you knew it too well, but when snow appeared on your apartment's balcony, for straight five minutes you were looking at it funny, like it was something unusual. It wasn't, you knew it was going to snow in the night from TV, yet, you couldn't stop looking.
Being on medical leave had you observing things around with your whole attention. Not even kidding; you couldn't somehow recall when you paid attention like this in the past. Field? Of course, but it was your job. You had to do it, and in your home, you usually just wanted some sleep, food, and you were onto another mission.
You were at home, though, so it had you paying attention to little details; how petals and leaves were no longer present, how green got more ashy, how days got shorter and nights longer. How dim lights around your apartment were light up quicker than usual, with orange light blinking on the street.
Most of it all, you even became friends with your neighbours. Not like you had any other way with Soap blabbing about your health and helping you, but you happened to visit some ladies to eat a pie with them. Most of them were simply lonely, so that's where the gesture was coming from, but so were you and Johnny, so discarding their proposition would be considered rude.
Besides, these pies were really, really good. Not to mention that they always packed some of it for you later, a win-win situation.
So yeah, everything was changing in a way.
What didn't change though? Soap being right by your side. Being on leave had a good influence on him apparently, even if he was addicted to military just like you were; he learned how to cook, it was wild waking up to not burned eggs one day. Maybe he wasn't the best in spices, giving too much or too little, but that was the gesture that counts. You definitely appreciated his tries to give you a healthy, non-ordered meal, especially when he didn't let you cook still.
You opened your balcony door slowly; you stepped right into the snow, barefoot, looking at the view outside. Whole city looked magical – unreal in the way because you swore that you haven't seen something like this for so long. Deployment, changing location every now and then, it was just... impossible to notice that little things that were constantly changing. Sometimes you didn't even were in your home for winter times.
Standing in snow though, on shorts and a simple t-shirt that was way too big for you, you realized that you like winter probably more than other season. It was so peaceful, so... simple, yet the simplicity of it all was warming enough; spending time under warm blankets, drinking cocoa, watching Christmas movies, baking. So many things to do, so many things to be happy about in winter. You could probably ramble about it on and on.
"Ain't ya cold? Thought I'm the stupid one" Johnny scoffed, taking your cold hand in his. Warm one, contrasting so much to yours; you looked at him with one brow raised. "Barefoot. On winter. In snow. You're askin' for a cold" he explained, pulling you inside.
He closed balcony door after him. "You talk exactly like my mom. Literally." you rolled your eyes, laughing, when he looked at you absolutely dazed with what you said. "Seriously! I hear her in your words. Rosalie, you're gonna be sick, come home, now."
"Okay, that's" he pointed at you "not what I thought 'm gonna hear. 'st taking care of you, aye? You need it."
"Need?"
"To be back in the field. Not taking chances with cold." he ruffled your hair, taking a few steps back, when you almost punched him in the arm.
"It wasn't even five minutes."
"Doesn't change a thing, bonnie." he shrugged, walking up to the door. "Coffee on the table, 'm gonna take a shower, just came from the run and..."
"...you were running?" you asked, your eyebrow a bit arched in question. "Willingly? On weather like this?"
"Yeah. Gotta keep myself in shape, eh? Next time, yer comin' with me." he winked, grinning even more when you shook your head. "What? Good for buildin' yer stamina!"
"Mmm, let's say, I will prefer a run in the gym, than on streets like this." you laughed, following him to the kitchen; a hot cup automatically warmed your hands, at which you sighed, relieved.
You automatically thought of Christmas market happening in your town, when you looked out of the window to see busy people and snow surrounding them so beautifully. Balconies decorated with trees, candycanes, snowmans, lights that were literally blinding you by their brightness.
Everything screamed winter, and when you looked around your apartament, it was a complete... well, a complete nothing. Nothing screamed Christmas, nor winter, it was just an apartment that had literally no spirit whatsoever.
"Hey, Johnny?" you called out, when the idea striked you. A quick "yeah?" coming from the bathroom, followed by him turning off the water, confirmed that he's listening, so you've decided to continue. "Thought about... well, buying something for Christmas, you know? Lights and shit like this."
"Oh. We can do somethin' like this, if ya want this badly. We need to do shopping anyway for our apartment, so."
"Badly, I need Christmas spirit here! Besides, you know it's my apartment, yeah? And you have yours?"
Not even a second after you said that, water turned on again in the bathroom; with higher pressure this time. "Can't hear ya, lass! Make us a breakfast!"
You let out a laugh, as you shook your head; he acted like he was there from the beggining and he didn't actually just stayed one day, deciding that he's gonna help you with everything. What was even funnier, but respectful in a way, he transferred money to your bank account, when you paid rent. It was hard to forget a smirk on his lips, when he handed you a cup of tea, telling you that now it's not one lady apartment, but two people apartment. When you asked him what does it mean, he just quickly said "you know", and he disappeared into the kitchen.
Most people, when they felt lonely in their space, adopted something. A cat, dog, perhaps something smaller, like a turtle or a fish, just to add something into their miserable lives; to make a difference.
You adopted Johnny.
What was even funnier, you didn't pay attention to his presence anymore – he wasn't a intruder when you felt bad and wanted to be alone again, he was like a monstera in your bedroom. Something that was just there, something that you wanted to be around, just because your vision of this apartment wouldn't be the same. You really couldn't imagine not watching a movie before sleeping, drinking coffee in the morning without him, nor gossiping with him about your neighbours dramas that happened way too often for your liking.
A certain routine, in your life. The domestic routine that you learned to like, but that routine had to include him – otherwise, you wouldn't be interested in it the same.
Hour later, you actually left your apartment with Soap, after a quick breakfast and after listing in your notes what exactly you need. Important as fuck, considering that your attention could be easily distracted in that environment; full of decorations for winter time, and you were just a sucker for them, it was embarrassing. You couldn't count how many times you bought something completely useless, just because a big, woody deer right in front of your door seemed like a good idea.
Spoiler, it wasn't a good idea. Mostly because that deer lived maybe a week or two, before some people completely destroyed him – and that was when you were deployed, so you didn't know who exactly.
The bitterness stayed, though.
"Bloody hell" MacTavish grunted; you were walking with him so peacefully around the Christmas market – with pavement that was covered practically with pure ice. He almost slipped a few times, and every time, you couldn't help but chuckle. "Whit's sae funny?"
"Nothing, Johnny" you grinned. "Just, you know. You could listen sometimes, I told you that sneakers aren't really for that weather."
He rolled his eyes. "See, I thought it wasn't that motherfuckin' bad. They could, like, get rid of it."
"Yeah, surely" you looked at him with amusement. "Just listen to me, sometimes."
"Mhm." he sneaked his arm around yours, bringing you closer. "For now, yer gonna be my support, aye?"
"And when you're gonna fall, I'm gonna fall with you. Not so smart, MacTavish."
"Oh, it is smart. You're gonna fall at me, so it's pretty rewarding after my fall."
"Won't stop teasing, hm?"
"Mmm, never."
The number of little shops around was enormous – lights, Christmas ornaments, snacks with weird combinations that you wanted to try, even if it was roasted beef and candy cane. You could swore that the amount of colorful lights would leave you completely blind with every step that you took; didn't stopped you from being adored by the view, though. Old ladies had all of your heart, and you just couldn't say no to them when they wanted to chit-chat with you for second or two.
Legend says that Soap had something against it – only a legend because he was even more of a sucker for them. They almost gave him every freebie from the food that they had, stuffing him with that stuff, while you just looked at your best friend, amused how adored everyone was. Good thing you had benefits too, with multiple discounts on their products, your fridge most certainly was gonna be full after this.
Old cute ladies weren't the only ones stopping you in your tracks; so were the men that talked with you, smiling widely. Market thing, you thought, it was bright as the sun they wanted to sell more, tactics worked like this, but Johnny was beyond disgusted with that, you noticed. Getting so touchy, wrapping his arm around you and being so close, when you were picking out things. Discussing about hanging things in "our home" – and he awfully tried to emphasize that every time. You got more time alone when he gone somewhere to get that cheese he wanted.
"No fucking way."
A voice you could never forget, and a voice that automatically got you grinning like idiot, when you walked closer to one of the little shops; with lights, this time.
"A way, I'm afraid." you said, glancing at your old friend behind the cash register. Cody went to highschool with you – worst and best times of your life, but your ways splitted after you decided to go for a military route.
You two were always close, though; your moms liked him enough to let him be around you, even joked a few times about you getting together. What they didn't know though, it was a few kisses between you and him, even more, but it wasn't the right time for starting something deeper. Not when you were so excited about your career.
"Gets tough at military, huh?" his gaze went to your arm for a second.
"Sometimes. Mostly, a job of my dreams."
He nodded, like he got exactly what you said. Probably he didn't even thought of things that you've done to get the mission done, but the less he knew, the better for him. "Looking for any specific lights?"
"Mm, no. I want to hang them on tree, so nothing too extreme. Maybe white?" you shrugged, giving him a little smile when he started looking. "I've picked white and blue ornaments, mostly. A bit of gold too, if that helps?"
Cody placed right in front of you lights in different shapes; classical ones, snowflakes, hearts, eve little trees. "If I were you, I'd pick white and blue ones. To make it more fancy." he winked, tilting his head.
"Fancy? You think I like fancy?" you raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "Or it's like, a marketing tactics on your old friend?"
"Does it work? The tactic?"
"To make me buy more lights than I need? Yeah, like, I'm literally gonna insane with those snowflakes ones and-"
"-well, not only that, but your number, perhaps? To catch up."
You coughed, a bit startled – guy was definitely not wasting any time. "See, after another month I'm probably back into the field, and time after that is... limited." you explained; tried doing that at least because catching up with Cody could mean one of two things in your mind.
"...Rosalie." Cody laughed, shaking his head. "Let's focus on today, yeah? You don't have to give me that, but..."
"Don't need to give him what, bonnie?" you didn't need to look behind you, when you felt a protective arm around. Not only that, Soap managed to sneak one of his hands in the front pocket of your jeans. His tensed muscles brought to you a lot of questions, but you've decided to ignore them for a while.
"Cody is old friend of mine." you swiftly avoided the question. "Cody, it's John. We know each other from military. Johnny, it's Cody, we went together to the same highschool."
Cody smiled awkwardly, extending his arm. "Nice to meet you, Johnny."
"John. Nice to meet you." he murmured, totally ignoring the proposition of handshake. The level of tension could be cut with a knife, and you just wished that Soap wouldn't interrupted you two. Hell, you wished that he wouldn't know that Cody existed in your life somehow, his tone wasn't pleasant at all.
That awkward silence had to be broken. "I'll take white snowflakes and blue classics." you said after a while; your eyes met with your best friend's, who hummed in agreement, giving you a little squeeze. "And as for phone number..."
"1-800-985-5990" Soap interrupted you, with fake smile on his lips; Cody almost dropped his pen while he was writing. It was definitely not your phone number, but you had no heart to tell him that and humiliate yourself like that.
"Thanks."
"'s alright. Gotta help a fellow brother, hm? We'll get goin' now." he waved to him, as you two walked.
"Hands to yourself, will you?" you murmured to him, right after that guy was out of sight. You honestly couldn't believe his behavior; the audacity, his snarkiness, sudden disapproval and tensing muscles. It wasn't a competition, yet, it felt like one.
"Cannot do, hen. Pricks are eatin' you up, none of them worth ya time, gotta protect you somehow" he shook his head, looking at you with shit-eating grin. "Besides. Thought you like when I'm a bit handsy, eh?"
"Pricks? Come on, they're not that bad." you rolled your eyes. His hand still caressed your waist, and you barely managed to keep yourself together – his touch always was comforting for you, calming, but in that moment... it was such a contrast. Such a contrast, because you could swore that his touch was burning something in you.
Something that you thought you're not gonna ever feel. Yet, here you were, conflicted.
"'st sayin'. You deserve someone worthy." his nose nuzzled against the top of your head, which caused your cheeks to heat up a bit; Soap acted like he was absolutely smitten. "Should we go to apartment? Drop these things off, or there's somethin' else you want to do?"
"We can go, I think. After we buy that jam, though, from that old lady in the beggining. I promised her."
"Yes, ma'am."
Oh, how you wished that wouldn't get you so much.
Three hours after you arrived to your apartment, pretty sure that you wouldn't go anywhere, you had to put your winter shoes and jacket again.
Why?
Well, there was this festival of lights Soap thought was a good idea to go to – and he couldn't tell you sooner, no, cause you were "romancing too much" with Cody-guy. You thought it would be better to remain silent on this topic, so you just coughed awkwardly, asking him details, which he happily told you.
It was supposed to be a light show on the building mostly, with releasing lanterns when it's gonna be a little bit darker outside. Releasing them had to be apparently with certain "intention" in mind; something like a wish, a dream that you wanted to come true, which was cute enough for you to agree on his idea.
"Gonna wish you a better arm" he joked, nudging your hip with his. A quick eyeroll from you caught his attention enough to trap you between his arms. "What? Am I wrong, lass? You need somethin' a bit better to put up with my arse."
"Alcohol will do good enough." you mumbled, which made him laugh – and it wasn't even your intention. Urge to give him another eyeroll was high.
"Like it would save ya." he winked, as he continued his walk to your couch, where he sat comfortably, patting the seat next to him. "C'mere. We can watch the end of the game, then go. Gaz won't be here for like... a hour top."
"Mm, right. I want him to take that lady he texts with" you sat beside Soap, opening up the chat with Garrick. "I have to remind him again."
Gaz also happened to be interested in that festival of lights, or whatever it was called; as he'd text you, "bonding with friends" were more important than ever, considering that the three of you were the only one on leave. It was only fair to take him with you two – he had to arrive first, right, but the feeling of having him by your side was warming enough. You missed your friend and texts weren't enough like a real conversation; hell, you even wanted at some point to meet with him eye to eye and get drunk, to talk with him about everything that happened over the days.
Maybe including how confused Soap made you over the days, but that's for maybe. Hard enough that he was also Johnny's best friend, wingman, and a partner in crime that everyone wished to have. Kyle was lovely, of course, but his tongue was a bit loose if it came to telling things to members of Task Force.
And you respected your privacy enough. Not like you didn't trust him, no, but you didn't need to complicate things more than they already had been.
"Told you I'm gonna always win, yeah?" you showed the screen of your phone to Soap, so he could easily read the conversation between you and Gaz, where he agreed to your plan of taking that "friend" of his.
Friend, which he talked to daily on base when he could – you teased him about it one time or two, to only meet with him being frustrated all over again. On morning run, before you got shot, he admitted that he indeed was flirting with someone; a civilian, and it caught your attention enough to be a bit of a matchmaker for him.
That boy deserved nothing but happiness. And if you could help your friend? You would do anything.
"We're goin' on real matchmaker mode, ain't we?" Johnny quipped; you rolled your eyes with a small smile, while you fastened your seatbelts.
"He needs a little help. Who knows, might be his love for life" tease coming from your mouth made your friend laugh a bit, while he was retreating his car, one hand on the wheel, another in the back of your seat. For the better view – you knew it, but you couldn't help to think that was something attractive to do.
"'s gonna be pure dead brilliant to see the moment they're not getting along."
"Soap!" you smacked him in his arm, giving him a bit scolding look because you were amused at this thought too – just a little, though.
"Ow! Seems like yer hand is pretty good right now, eh?"
"You have to support your friend." you pointed out, when his car left the parking under your apartment. He gave you amused look.
"Aye, but his taste is..." he took a minute to think "...questionable. You'll see what I'm talkin' about, Ros."
"Oh, like your taste isn't questionable" you rolled your eyes; a bit of snarkiness in your voice immediately drew Soap's attention to you, his eyes on you.
"Somethin' particular on your pretty mind?"
That blonde chick was on your mind, of course. But would you confess to something like that? Not in the million years, considering that not only he wouldn't let you live through it, you would also possibly give him a clue that you were jealous.
You weren't jealous. Slightly pissed off that he was flirty at work, but that was all, not really other reason, yeah? At least you liked to think that way, not dig deeper into this because it would cause something like snow avalanche, and for that you weren't ready.
Especially when you lived with Soap. If he would stay in his apartment, it'd be easier to be blunt because you could hide in your place and ignore him.
In this case... you had no other option that be silent and brush everything off, like it was nothing.
"Generally speaking" you lied swiftly, shrugging. It wasn't the place to tell him things like that; you weren't bold enough, too. Probably after alcohol you could brought it up easier.
"Uh-huh. You have advice for me, then? To be a bit better in my choices, eh? Yer a specialist, after all." his tone was challening; he knew what he was doing. Trying to lure you into telling him your thoughts.
You were best friends for over a year, you know these tricks a bit too well to fall in. "Don't think only with your dick, for starters?" you raised an eyebrow.
"Hen" he started, looking at you when he stopped at the red light "if I'd think only with my dick, trust me. It would'a been a bit different, things here."
And that single comment, even if you weren't hundred percent sure what he's thinking about, made you blush; you didn't answer this. Instead, you just switched the radio station and looked outside, paying attention to the snow that still was falling on the street, adding to the piles that were already there.
One point for Johnny, zero for you. Not a good score, but you eventually would manage.
It took you more than twenty minutes to go on that stupid festival, and more than ten minutes to find the right spot with Soap driving around like a madman. Apparently, finding somewhere to park was hard, people loved lights more than you've assumed – thank God for Gaz that appeared out of nowhere to lead you to right spot.
"Lookin' good, Ros." Kyle grinned, nudging your side, when you finally stepped out of the vehicle; he went automatically for a hug, and you did too.
"Everyone would look good after a break from Task Force."
Kyle theathrically put his hand on his chest, close to heart. "Very rude, considering you have Soap around."
"Hey!"
"Well, he's at least helpful. Sometimes." you poked out your tongue playfully, looking at almost offended Johnny, who walked with you side by side. His hands were close to your waist, but he wasn't touching it.
"Sometimes..."
"What about yer lass, eh? She's here, or she bailed already?" MacTavish asked immediately, which made your friend a bit confused. He scratched the back of his neck to say something, but a scoff from Scot got him off-guard. "Saw that comin'."
"She's gonna be here any minute now, quit it" he barked.
"Whatever ya say."
"Any minute" turned into an hour. Show was about to begin, you already ate some of the candies that local sellers offered, and you could just see the nervousness on Gaz's face, which was sad at some point. Your friend deserved so much, and yet the girl that he wanted to introduce to you two, finally admitting she's a real person, not some imagination of his (as boys claimed), wasn't even there.
Very upsetting turn of events to look at – at least for you because Soap was living his life with seeing Garrick like this, telling him some crap how people can't believe in love and how it's better to just drink and forget.
Apparently, it was suiting for him because he went to find warm wine that he read about before the festival.
"You really could quit on supporting his alcoholism" you chuckled, looking at the man next to you; even if it sounded like a joke, it was partially it. Everyone around knew that Gaz liked to drown his sadness into various beverages, and you liked to prevent something happening.
"It's not supporting alcoholism." he rolled his eyes with a little smile. "I know Gaz, trust me. It's not the lady he wants."
You raised an eyebrow, shivering a bit from the cold outside. "Not the lady he wants" was a statement that got you a bit shocked, considering that Soap didn't look like the one who talks about stuff like this. "You know what he wants? You don't even know what you want."
"Sometimes." he shrugged, casually. Noticing that you're cold, he wrapped his arms around you from the back. "And sometimes I do."
That gesture got you off-guard; arm around you so casually wrapped, like it was nothing for him; like he was doing it all the time.
You looked back at him, wanting to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat the moment your eyes crossed with his; sapphire ones, sparkling so beautifully in this dim, orange light. Snow was falling at his hair, and you couldn't help but notice that he looks even better with slightly wet, messy hairstyle – your stomach did a little flip when you realized how close you are. Your back, pressed to his chest, his arms around you, it felt...
It felt right, it felt like home.
"I told you to bring a hat" you whispered; not even fully understanding why are you whispering though, but it felt right in the moment, even if you were talking about something else before. Scot scoffed at that, shaking his head slowly.
"Not really thinkin' about that right now." he muttered, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear with such a gentleness to it.
You tilted your head a bit, letting the top of your head to rest against his shoulder; just to have a bit better look at him. "What occupies your mind, then?"
"Oh, wouldn't ya want to know." he chuckled; for a split second his eyes dropped to your lips. You didn't notice it since it was so quick; what you've noticed though, was Soap's muscles tensing a little bit. Probably he was thinking about it – if you're gonna call him out on that, and if so, what excuse would he give? Observing?
He wasn't even sure what made him look at your lips, but they looked pretty soft for him. Plump. Ideal to...
"I would, yeah. Tell me."
"Mostly, 'm pretty interested" he whispered right to your ear, causing your body to shiver at the feeling of his warm breath "in keeping you warm 'n cozy. Is it workin', bonnie?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat slowly; it was such a stupid question from him. Of course it was working – you were a mess when he was only touching you and despite many times that you tried to deny it, he had more impact than you liked it. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm warm. Since you know what you want, Soap" you bit your lip "what other things could you be..."
"Hey! Found that wine y'all were talkin' 'about. Not for you Soap since you're driving, but" Gaz waved to you two; probably interrupting the most intimate contact that you had with Johnny, and the contact that...
You didn't even want to think about it, it's not like you had time for it– instinct told you to back off before Garrick would notice how close you were. It could be more than awkward, so you tried to do the right thing and free yourself from that grasp that Soap had on you.
"Tried" was a really good word, though. His grasp became iron; if that was possible, his arms tightened around you even more, and he, with a smile on his face, nodded at Gaz with silent greeting. You tried to lure him into looking at you, so he would at least try to explain himself, why he wouldn't let you go, but it was unsuccessful. He wanted to prove something to you or what?
You could only wonder.
"Thanks, Gaz." you nodded too, smiling awkwardly when you got the cup, taking a bigger sip from it. You needed it, considering the situation and the look Garrick gave you two when he got closer, and you barely managed to hold that wine; thanks to Soap's arms that were snaked around you, like you were his precious prey, not an actual person.
Maybe something was in it, though; the way he held you, close to himself, like he was actually afraid to lose you, his earlier behavior...
Hell only knew with this man; he was driving you insane with this sudden mood changes, flirting, being possessive when you were taking your chances. In your mind, you tried to tell yourself it's because he cares, but that argument was faltering when he was closer, looking at you like you were his only treasure.
And it was like that – maybe you didn't know that, but you really were his treasure. No one else's.
#john soap mactavish x female reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#soap x you#soap x oc#soap fluff#soap fanfic#soap call of duty#call of duty fanfic#john soap mactavish x reader#cod x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny mactavish x reader
86 notes
·
View notes
Note
I think catabolic seed by the scary jokes is very slugpelt, maybe about her life in general?
Yeah, I think so! I like the themes in this song about trying to take control of your life by reaching out to other people, but getting denied. That's very Slugpelt.
Also, check out this awesome PMV with Catabolic Seed, which I just have to show off cause I love it so much.
"But is bad luck really such a crime?
If you won't be my valentine, could you at least give me a little bit of sympathy?"
"I don't care if I'm losing myself in the garden of earthly delights
I could drop dead right where I stand, and I wouldn't mind"
youtube
You guys always find such interesting songs. I like this one. It's definitely got good Rainhaze energy.
"even through the pain
animals cannot change
dance with the skeletons
and float away"
"eat
and then die
all your siblings cast aside too"
"see
with new eyes
a world ready to despise you"
youtube
No, no one's recommended this Hannibal fansong yet. But nice call for Ranger talking to Rainhaze!
"So look in the mirror
And tell me, who do you see?
Is it still you?
Or is it me?"
"Do you feel the hunger
Does it howl inside?
Does it terrify you?
Or do you feel alive?"
youtube
That's a good classic ask, back from the beginning of the blog. Never forget Christmas music Daff.
"Underground, boxed and glum
Left you there for rot
All my fears are overgrown
Will someone burn this grove?"
"Welcome home! It's been a while
Do you miss your head?
With your tattered clothes and your bloody nose?"
youtube
I LOVE Vulture Culture! That song is great. I've been wanting to do a version of its animation meme for years now with a fandom I'm in. Maybe someday.
It can be a Rainhaze song and a Defiance song. They're so interlinked now, right?
"We live and die in a vulture culture
We crucify anyone we hunger
Gemini and a broken brother
We live and die, my friend"
"Well, I guess I made my bed
Now I gotta lie in it
Like a suicidal kiss
I got a guilty conscience"
youtube
BarrenClan is a cursed land!...
"The curse ruled from the underground, down by the shore
And their hope grew with a hunger to live unlike before"
"If they called on every soul in the land, on the moon
Only then would they know a blessing in disguise"
youtube
Asphodelpaw's themesong is a MARINA song, so you're already halfway there! I also agree with you about the idea of Asphodel feeling like she has to put on a strong front and pretend like she doesn't have any genuine feelings.
"It's okay to say you've got a weak spot
You don't always have to be on top
Better to be hated
Than loved loved loved for what your not"
"You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable
You are not a robot
You're lovable, so lovable
But you're just troubled"
youtube
What a wonderful title for a song. I also love mashing my OCs into any vaguely related song to them.
"I bid the sunshine adieu! In 1872
When the girl that I liked
Made me a creature of the night"
"On the shortest night of the year
I told him he’d nothing to fear
As I bit his throat and crooned as he choked
“Together forever my dear”
youtube
I'm certain this song has been suggested before, but that's only because any song from The Crane Wives discography could fit into PATFW.
"He taught me that the hand that feeds
Deserves to be bitten when it beats
He taught me how to break my chains
And that money ain't worth a thing"
"Reminding me how little I have
But as for time, as for time
It's mine, it's mine"
youtube
Poor Pinepaw! He really does know too much, often envious of who he used to be.
youtube
...yeah, that's going on the playlist.
"Everything here is built on bones
Everything everything everything
And men will do as they’re foretold
Everything everything everything
Visions you don’t want to see
Everything everything everything
Hide your face from prophecy"
If I'm being real - since this song is so desert-themed, it's giving much bigger Saltburn's Clan energy, especially with the line about "mountain cats". (Blasting beams into the 3 people who read this's head to go read SBC at @nanistar)
If you want my opinion, I would say Slugpelt.
"So, if I can wait five more
In this shape that I abhor
I'll sleep with an open door
Knowing you haven't touched a cell on my body"
"Now, my love carries the task
Of handling the aftermath
Can you smooth the looping lines
Of fingerprints before your time?"
Lol I ran out of video embeds
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Pinch Of Love - A Gilbert/Silvio/Reader fanfic
Rating: Mature/Explicit (minors dni)
Words: 1089
Tags: Modern au, cooking together, cum tasting/drinking, cum cookies, spit tasting references, references to blowjobs, biting, cooking with cum, poly relationship
This is for @xxsycamore's Sweet and Spicy Wintertime prompt list! I am late as usual when I try to join a prompt thing, but I still had fun! As soon as she dropped this I knew I had to write gilbert being a fuckin weirdo (affectionate). Thank you, Mo, for making this event!!
It wasn't unusual for Gilbert to keep you company in the kitchen, idly sitting at the nearby table while you switched between reading recipes to mixing in ingredients. What was, however, was Silvio joining the two of you.
While you busied yourself with the batter, they sat at the table clad in their pajamas- a requirement that you insisted on for today's festivities. Because for the first time, all three of you could be together for Christmas.
Not a baker himself, Silvio sat by Gilbert and offered his help in other ways: such as smacking Gilbert's hand away from the shakers of sprinkles and icing that littered the table.
“Will ya stop that?”
Gilbert ignored him, successfully swiping a shaker with snowflakes and pearl sprinkles inside, popping the lid open. As he poured some onto his palm for easier eating, Silvio rolled his eyes.
“If ya eat everything before we can even decorate, what's the damn point in us takin’ the day off fer this?”
For the sake of your sanity, you ignored how Gilbert prodded and teased Silvio back, focusing on the next step in your process.
“Gil? Can you tell me what else comes after the spices?”
He lazily swiped on your phone, reading out the next set of directions for you, “the recipe says to add a ‘pinch of love’.”
You muttered a hum, amused with the cutesy addition, but in the background you heard Silvio click his tongue. A warning sound towards his growing annoyance. Peeking at them, you saw Gilbert's lips quirk into his telltale smile. His eyes flicked between giving your mouth, and Silvio's, a slow once over, and you knew what he was going to suggest. An implemented habit that he had been trying to instill in the both of you: spitting.
Silvio stared. Unblinking, slowly furrowing his brows as Gilbert's smile widened.
“The damned coffee wasn't enough fer ya?”
“Hehe, and what if it wasn't? What if I'd like you both to-”
“Don't drag ‘er into this!”
“If you'd rather, we can try a different ingredient.”
Silvio went to speak, but instead caught how Gilbert's eyes trailed down his torso, settling between his legs for a moment before flicking back towards Silvio's gaze.
“Ain't no fuckin’ way, these cookies are fer all of us.”
“Hmm? I've never complained about how either of you tasted before. Surely-”
“No. I ain't doin’ that.”
The chair was pushed back as Silvio stood up, gaining distance between him and Gilbert by leaning against the fridge instead. Still keeping his promise by spending time with the two of you, but avoiding further teasing.
In theory.
Because when you laughed and shook your head, intending to turn back to focus on mixing, you heard the shuffling of chairs. Light steps, a few curses slipped under a sigh. All enough to stop you once more, peeking over your shoulder to see Gilbert facing Silvio. He stared Silvio down with a smile, moving his cold hands to Silvio's hips.
Watching how Silvio slowly relented to Gilbert made you awestruck, in ways. Both men were stubborn in what they wanted, yet out of the three of you, Silvio hardly confessed to his wants unless he felt in control of them.
Which led him to being pressed up against the fridge, turning his head away from the both of you, cheeks flushed as Gilbert teased his fingers along the waistband of Silvio's gray pajama bottoms. Unable to admit to his more ‘odd’ desires once again.
Gilbert gave no slack, like you did. Instead he doubled down on his teasing, always itching to have Silvio speak out on the pleasures he sought.
“I thought you liked to watch?” He teased, but when Silvio made no further movement, he just simply shrugged.
Slowly, Gilbert hooked two fingers on his waistband, easily pulling it down just enough for Silvio's hardened cock to slip free, eliciting a shuddering sigh from both of them.
“Hehe, you always fuss about how gross I am, but look at how hard you are.”
“That's just-ngh…”
At his cock finally being touched by Gilbert ghosting his fingers along the length, Silvio finally looked over at Gilbert- only to have his cheek pressed back against the fridge.
“Who said you could look after lying like that?” The words were a playful chide, but Gilbert still kept Silvio's head in place as he murmured in his ear, “it's only good boys who get to watch.”
His body tensed as Gilbert flattened his tongue against his neck, licking a wet stripe along the length, ending with a bite between his shoulder and neck. Hard enough to mark, to bruise, but not draw blood.
There were complaints on the tip of Silvio's tongue, ready to fly out, but you didn't miss the way his cock twitched, especially as Gilbert trailed his fingers along the underside.
“Hey,” Gilbert called to you, voice no longer holding the warning edge it had for Silvio, “make sure he behaves?”
There was no need for clarification, not when Gilbert finally let go of Silvio's chin to ease onto his knees, taking time to mouth kisses down Silvio's abdomen to rile him up further.
So you set your mixing spoon aside, moving to face Silvio, to hold him in place with kisses and bites, your hand snaked under his shirt to tease his chest. Despite how many times the three of you had been intimate, his ears still blazed bright, trying to hold back his moans when Gilbert's lips reached the base of his cock.
.
Soft crackling emitted from the fireplace as the three of you sat together on the couch, watching the first of many holiday movies for the day. Blankets were haphazardly shared between you, with Gilbert claiming more even when his spot was closest to the fire. Through the layers, Silvio's hand sought yours, fingers twining together.
On the coffee table lay the cookies you all had a hand in making today, decorated clumsily with icing. Some of the shaped cookies were clad in eyepatches, others with jewelry or coin, while others had rabbit ears and hearts for decorations.
Gilbert, eyes still on the television, reached for another. He acted oblivious towards Silvio's staring, turning towards the man and offering a cookie.
“Want one?”
“Those are all yours.”
“Technically, they all have a piece of us in them, so-”
“No.”
And once more, the bickering began anew. Yet through all of Silvio's sighs, he still had an arm snaked around Gilbert's shoulders, sharing what warmth he had.
steeples hands. I really just wanted to write the endscene, but I needed context and. Well. Cum cookies (cumkies, if you will.)
You saw the tags. I don't really wanna hear any complaints if you didnt like it, please and thank you.
If you enjoyed it, please feel free to say so! I do like thinking about gilbert being a lil fuckin weirdo honestly.
Taglist (Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!):
@yarnnerdally @katriniac @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bakaneko-chan @skoetiepoetie @bestbryn @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lokis-laugh @queengiuliettafirstlady @candied-boys @keithsandwich @bubblexly @ridiculouslly-ridiculous @drewadoodle @drachonia @portrait-ninja @mimi-but-main
Ikepri Masterlist | Ikevamp Masterlist | Ikevamp/Ikepri Server
#ikepri#ikemen prince#ikemen prince gilbert#ikemen prince silvio#ikepri silvio#ikepri gilbert#gil posting
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Anne's House of Dreams-
Chapter 16
New Year's Eve at the Light
The Green Gables folk went home after Christmas, Marilla under solemn covenant to return for a month in the spring. More snow came before New Year's, and the harbor froze over, but the gulf still was free, beyond the white, imprisoned fields. The last day of the old year was one of those bright, cold, dazzling winter days, which bombard us with their brilliancy, and command our admiration but never our love. The sky was sharp and blue; the snow diamonds sparkled insistently; the stark trees were bare and shameless, with a kind of brazen beauty; the hills shot assaulting lances of crystal. Even the shadows were sharp and stiff and clear-cut, as no proper shadows should be. Everything that was handsome seemed ten times handsomer and less attractive in the glaring splendor; and everything that was ugly seemed ten times uglier, and everything was either handsome or ugly. There was no soft blending, or kind obscurity, or elusive mistiness in that searching glitter. The only things that held their own individuality were the firs--for the fir is the tree of mystery and shadow, and yields never to the encroachments of crude radiance.
But finally the day began to realise that she was growing old. Then a certain pensiveness fell over her beauty which dimmed yet intensified it; sharp angles, glittering points, melted away into curves and enticing gleams. The white harbor put on soft grays and pinks; the far-away hills turned amethyst.
"The old year is going away beautifully," said Anne.
She and Leslie and Gilbert were on their way to the Four Winds Point, having plotted with Captain Jim to watch the New Year in at the light. The sun had set and in the southwestern sky hung Venus, glorious and golden, having drawn as near to her earth-sister as is possible for her. For the first time Anne and Gilbert saw the shadow cast by that brilliant star of evening, that faint, mysterious shadow, never seen save when there is white snow to reveal it, and then only with averted vision, vanishing when you gaze at it directly.
"It's like the spirit of a shadow, isn't it?" whispered Anne. "You can see it so plainly haunting your side when you look ahead; but when you turn and look at it--it's gone."
"I have heard that you can see the shadow of Venus only once in a lifetime, and that within a year of seeing it your life's most wonderful gift will come to you," said Leslie. But she spoke rather hardly; perhaps she thought that even the shadow of Venus could bring her no gift of life. Anne smiled in the soft twilight; she felt quite sure what the mystic shadow promised her.
They found Marshall Elliott at the lighthouse. At first Anne felt inclined to resent the intrusion of this long-haired, long-bearded eccentric into the familiar little circle. But Marshall Elliott soon proved his legitimate claim to membership in the household of Joseph. He was a witty, intelligent, well-read man, rivalling Captain Jim himself in the knack of telling a good story. They were all glad when he agreed to watch the old year out with them.
Captain Jim's small nephew Joe had come down to spend New Year's with his great-uncle, and had fallen asleep on the sofa with the First Mate curled up in a huge golden ball at his feet.
"Ain't he a dear little man?" said Captain Jim gloatingly. "I do love to watch a little child asleep, Mistress Blythe. It's the most beautiful sight in the world, I reckon. Joe does love to get down here for a night, because I have him sleep with me. At home he has to sleep with the other two boys, and he doesn't like it. "Why can't I sleep with father, Uncle Jim?" says he. `Everybody in the Bible slept with their fathers.' As for the questions he asks, the minister himself couldn't answer them. They fair swamp me. `Uncle Jim, if I wasn't me who'd I be?' and, `Uncle Jim, what would happen if God died?' He fired them two off at me tonight, afore he went to sleep. As for his imagination, it sails away from everything. He makes up the most remarkable yarns--and then his mother shuts him up in the closet for telling stories . And he sits down and makes up another one, and has it ready to relate to her when she lets him out. He had one for me when he come down tonight. `Uncle Jim,' says he, solemn as a tombstone, `I had a 'venture in the Glen today.' `Yes, what was it?' says I, expecting something quite startling, but nowise prepared for what I really got. `I met a wolf in the street,' says he, `a 'normous wolf with a big, red mouf and awful long teeth, Uncle Jim.' `I didn't know there was any wolves up at the Glen,' says I. `Oh, he comed there from far, far away,' says Joe, `and I fought he was going to eat me up, Uncle Jim.' `Were you scared?' says I. `No, 'cause I had a big gun,' says Joe, `and I shot the wolf dead, Uncle Jim,--solid dead--and then he went up to heaven and bit God,' says he. Well, I was fair staggered, Mistress Blythe."
The hours bloomed into mirth around the driftwood fire. Captain Jim told tales, and Marshall Elliott sang old Scotch ballads in a fine tenor voice; finally Captain Jim took down his old brown fiddle from the wall and began to play. He had a tolerable knack of fiddling, which all appreciated save the First Mate, who sprang from the sofa as if he had been shot, emitted a shriek of protest, and fled wildly up the stairs.
"Can't cultivate an ear for music in that cat nohow," said Captain Jim. "He won't stay long enough to learn to like it. When we got the organ up at the Glen church old Elder Richards bounced up from his seat the minute the organist began to play and scuttled down the aisle and out of the church at the rate of no-man's-business. It reminded me so strong of the First Mate tearing loose as soon as I begin to fiddle that I come nearer to laughing out loud in church than I ever did before or since."
There was something so infectious in the rollicking tunes which Captain Jim played that very soon Marshall Elliott's feet began to twitch. He had been a noted dancer in his youth. Presently he started up and held out his hands to Leslie. Instantly she responded. Round and round the firelit room they circled with a rhythmic grace that was wonderful. Leslie danced like one inspired; the wild, sweet abandon of the music seemed to have entered into and possessed her. Anne watched her in fascinated admiration. She had never seen her like this. All the innate richness and color and charm of her nature seemed to have broken loose and overflowed in crimson cheek and glowing eye and grace of motion. Even the aspect of Marshall Elliott, with his long beard and hair, could not spoil the picture. On the contrary, it seemed to enhance it. Marshall Elliott looked like a Viking of elder days, dancing with one of the blue-eyed, golden-haired daughters of the Northland.
"The purtiest dancing I ever saw, and I've seen some in my time," declared Captain Jim, when at last the bow fell from his tired hand. Leslie dropped into her chair, laughing, breathless.
"I love dancing," she said apart to Anne. "I haven't danced since I was sixteen--but I love it. The music seems to run through my veins like quicksilver and I forget everything--everything--except the delight of keeping time to it. There isn't any floor beneath me, or walls about me, or roof over me--I'm floating amid the stars."
Captain Jim hung his fiddle up in its place, beside a large frame enclosing several banknotes.
"Is there anybody else of your acquaintance who can afford to hang his walls with banknotes for pictures?" he asked. "There's twenty ten-dollar notes there, not worth the glass over them. They're old Bank of P. E. Island notes. Had them by me when the bank failed, and I had 'em framed and hung up, partly as a reminder not to put your trust in banks, and partly to give me a real luxurious, millionairy feeling. Hullo, Matey, don't be scared. You can come back now. The music and revelry is over for tonight. The old year has just another hour to stay with us. I've seen seventy-six New Years come in over that gulf yonder, Mistress Blythe."
"You'll see a hundred," said Marshall Elliott.
Captain Jim shook his head.
"No; and I don't want to--at least, I think I don't. Death grows friendlier as we grow older. Not that one of us really wants to die though, Marshall. Tennyson spoke truth when he said that. There's old Mrs. Wallace up at the Glen. She's had heaps of trouble all her life, poor soul, and she's lost almost everyone she cared about. She's always saying that she'll be glad when her time comes, and she doesn't want to sojourn any longer in this vale of tears. But when she takes a sick spell there's a fuss! Doctors from town, and a trained nurse, and enough medicine to kill a dog. Life may be a vale of tears, all right, but there are some folks who enjoy weeping, I reckon."
They spent the old year's last hour quietly around the fire. A few minutes before twelve Captain Jim rose and opened the door.
"We must let the New Year in," he said.
Outside was a fine blue night. A sparkling ribbon of moonlight garlanded the gulf. Inside the bar the harbor shone like a pavement of pearl. They stood before the door and waited--Captain Jim with his ripe, full experience, Marshall Elliott in his vigorous but empty middle life, Gilbert and Anne with their precious memories and exquisite hopes, Leslie with her record of starved years and her hopeless future. The clock on the little shelf above the fireplace struck twelve.
"Welcome, New Year," said Captain Jim, bowing low as the last stroke died away. "I wish you all the best year of your lives, mates. I reckon that whatever the New Year brings us will be the best the Great Captain has for us--and somehow or other we'll all make port in a good harbor."
#anne's house of dreams#anne of green gables#anne shirley#gilbert blythe#anne x gilbert#Captain Jim#new years#new year#Leslie Moore
34 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello,
I hope ypu had a nice Christmas
Do you still need help on hating Cassian? I haven't started my re read yet for CC3. But off the top of my head
1. He made his mind up on Nesta before he ever met her, based on what Feyre told him about her, he went to her house and tried to start an argument.
2. When she first went to to NC he flew up to the HoW to antagonize her every other day.
3 He dropped her hand when Mor turns up and doesn't defend her against the IC. Agrees with Mor that she would thrive in Hewn City, I know it was meant maliciously from Mor and Cassian but she actually would thrive there and sort the place out.
4 He dragged her out of taverns and didn't listen when she told him she liked the music, he told her that was BS.
5 He followed her home after Solstice threw a tantrum and told her he can't understand why her sisters love her.
6 He laughed when she fell down the stairs
7 Told her everyone hated her
8 Wouldn't let her eat sugar when she was starving herself
9 When the house gave her chocolare cake, he took the fork off her and ate half of it.
10 The Hike, him being angry at Nesta for days even though he told Feyre that he understood why she told her.
11 Made her train shortly after she broke down in tears at the lake instead of brimging her home
12 Shouting at her in public when she said mates meant nothing to het, fae were crossing streets to avoid them.
13.Had rough sex with her after the Kelpie
There are many more I'm sure.
After a bad night of insomnia I listened to some old play lists and found my perfect Nessian song, Two out of three ain't bad by Meatloaf
I always need ammunition <3
3 and 6 make me a violent person
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snow Captain!!! Complete with his swagger stick/Havers stick. Ik he ain't perfect but I couldn't not with that mustache I found.
But this snow Captain was built with someone amazing in mind. My uncle died last weekend, he had cancer for a while so it wasn't such a shock, but still, it was. I loved my uncle, even though we only skyped every week and saw him once a year as my family lives in England and I don't. He was very similar to me in so many ways and I loved talking to him. We talked to him close to when he passed and I was telling him about my Christmas presents, and showed him my ghosts book. I started telling him about ghosts but then he said he watched it and didn't expect to like it but adored it. My mum said she's never heard him say that. So my dad ordered him the book on Amazon for his birthday and when he talked to him last he said he hadn't opened it yet. A day later he died. I was distraught and scared he hadn't even managed to open his present. But I found out from my family that they found the book fallen, open, with his birthday cards tucked in the front, next to where he was last sitting. It was one of the last things he did before he died, read a book about something we both loved. So for my uncle, who loved birds, spoiling me, talking to me, cheese, music, finding new things out, and football, who checked on astronomy news and sent me articles just because I was interested in it, his favourite character, The Captain.
Thank you for reading if you did I hope I didn't make anyone to sad and I hope you remember my uncle because he was the best.
@spacerangersam
22 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
awwandcuteeveryday
Aww and Cute Everyday
cycutmondie
▲▼▲
god-compussy
Angel Divine
hgye
World change, change world
loganbear1
Untitled