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meatonfork · 1 year

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Fresh Faces

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pairing: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: mission gone wrong, grim having a breakdown, death, child death, drugs, vomit, usual cod violence

summary: sometimes all you need is a fresh face to calm you down

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the mission had gone so, terribly wrong. no one had anticipated that the cartel had known you were here.

your target had been the biggest cocaine distributor from san felipe to guadalajara. he was dangerous, killing civilians and even his own men.

alejandro had contacted price for help in taking him down. without hesitation, you all flew down to your favorite spanish speaking friends.

everyone knew this mission would be hard, seeing as alejandro and his men couldn’t do it without help, but you didn’t expect it to be this hard. this gruesome.

your team had reached the warehouse you assumed him to be in, but all you saw was a row of bodies- civilians- laid out on the ground. blood pooling on the concrete. men, women, children.

it was a murder scene straight out of a horror movie. except this wasn’t a horror movie, this was real life.

the metallic stench of blood filled your nostrils, making you gag. your eyes watered from the smell, and the buzzing of flies echoed in your ears.

turning to ghost, you make eye contact. he shakes his head and leaves the building.

it took you three weeks to find him. and when you did, your team took him in.

infiltrating the base was hard. somehow, he knew you were coming. your breath was ragged as you took down one of his men off sight. you all had been split from each other, relying on your comms to keep in check and make sure everyone else was alive.

“grim, how copy?”

silence.

“grim. how copy.” ghost’s voice held a slight edge to it.

nothing.

“kid! are you alive?”

finally, a crackle buzzed in his ear before your heavy breathing came through.

“yeah, yeah i’m good. got caught up with some bastard.” blood soaked your front from the slice in his neck. he had you pinned behind a counter of a bakery. your hand barely reaching your knife held on your thigh in time to slice his throat. the blood rained down on you, covering you face, neck, and chest.

“are you hurt?” it was soap this time.

“nah. covered in blood, but it isn’t mine.” you held a small smile on your lips as you raced across the street, navigating your way through town.

“atta, kid. livin’ up to the name, huh?” soap chuckled a bit.

“duh. i have a reputation to hold up to serg.”

“kid, we’re on the east side of town. think you can manage getting over here?” ghost’s voice no longer held as much edge to it, but he didn’t like that you were on the complete opposite end of town from them.

“yeah, i’ll be there. don’t wait up.”

walking through the alleyways and ransacked buildings, you stumble across a house.

someone’s home.

it was quite. so quite. you make your way through the home, sweeping rooms before heading to the back door.

a gruesome sight stopped you in your tacks.

children. three of them cowering in the corner next to, who you assumed to be, their dead parents. blood and bullets holes splattered the room and furniture.

they looked at you with wide eyes, “h-hi, guys.”

they scoot further back.

“no no. it’s okay, i won’t hurt you.” your voice was soft as you slowly reach your hand to them, the other held your gun.

you slowly took a step forward when a shot rang out from behind you.

a sharp pain grazing your arm made you spin around with a hiss. one of his men stood behind you, and you rose your rifle to take aim. he was quicker and pulled the trigger before you could. but he didn’t aim for you.

no.

why would he aim for you?

why would he when he could easily shoot the kids behind you?

and that was exactly what he did.

“NO!” your voice rang out as you jumped towards him. he sidestepped you and continued firing. you finally caught him and shot him through the eye.

you were too late.

“fuck! FUCK!” your eyes immediately watered as you looked toward their lifeless bodies. deep sobs wracked your body, chest heaving.

your mind went hazy, a fog settling over your conscience.

“grim.”

you don’t even hear ghost’s voice flood into your comms.

“grim, how copy?”

“grim, how copy god damn it!”

“fine, sir.” your voice trembled, and huffs of air left your lips unevenly.

“what’s wrong?” can’t get anything passed them. you knew that.

“rough encounter, sir.”

“get over here as quick as you can manage. we got him.”

“copy.”

the rest of the trip over to your team went by too quickly for you to register. your mind raced a million miles a minute. the tears never left your eyes, and breath never evened out.

it wasn’t hard to find your boys. the humvees crowding a warehouse seemed to do the trick in drawing your attention.

the slamming of a car door captured their attention as you threw yourself in the backseat.

“creepin’ bloody jesus!” soap jumped at the sound and turned to see you running your hands through your hair in the widow. when your fist connected with the headrest in front of you, ghost decided it was time to head back to base.

your boys tried to get you to talk, but all they got in return was silence. tears cut through the blood covering your cheeks. every time you closed your eyes, flashes of the kids looking at you desperately flashed through your mind. when it got too quiet in the humvee, your mind would make you hear their screams. it was too much.

just as alejandro parked the car, you jumped out and threw up on the ground right outside the door.

“fuck.” your throat was raw, small hands shaking. you straightened your back and quickly walked into base.

the guys shared a glance at each other, silently asking, “what the fuck.”

locking yourself in the nearest bathroom, you threw up once more.

it was too much.

your cries must have been loud enough for them to hear, because a knock sounded at the door.

“one minute, please.” your voice rang out, cracking mid-sentence.

“just me, kid. let me in.” ghost’s gruff voice sounded through the locked door. you shifted over and unlocked the door.

the click must have been loud enough to let ghost know the coast is clear, because next you knew his large hand was on your shoulder and the door was locked again.

“i’m not good at this, you know that. but, do you want to talk about what you saw out there?” his voice was significantly softer than usual.

he grabbed a small towel and ran it under warm water before crouching in front of you and wiping your face and grazed arm gently with it.

you looked a mess. hair wild, and pulling from your loose ponytail. tears streamed through the dried blood caking your face and neck. bruising was popping up on your skin, and your chest heaved with unfinished breaths.

you finally made eye contact.

it was still too much.

you broke. sobbing hysterically. you couldn’t breathe.

through broken sentences and your blubbering, you finally got it out to him.

those kids needed your help, and yet they died. it was your fault.

why couldn’t you do your job right?

it should’ve been you.

you shouldn’t be here, breathing.

they should.

you must’ve almost passed out, because next thing you knew, two large hands were holding your face and ghost was crouched in front of you.

“hey. hey, that was not your fault.” he was whispering now. pulling you back down to earth. “there was nothing you could’ve done. you hear me? nothing.”

you didn’t say anything back, you just stared him in the eyes, trembling hands reaching up to wrap around his wrists. your small fingers were freezing against his warm skin.

“i want you to nod, or say something, to let me know you understand.” he was demanding, but he wasn’t rough. he was being gentle.

you let a small nod slip, but your eyes were glazed over and not focusing on him anymore.

he slowly let go of your face, but the sudden lack of warmth on your cheeks made you reach back out for him, a small whine leaving your lips.

“it’s okay. i’m just reaching for something.” he waited until you stilled to slowly reach for his mask and balaclava, pulling them off.

the sudden reveal of his face made you gasp. although they were surrounded by black paint, his brown eyes seemed brighter without the mask now that you could properly see his blonde brows and lashes. his nose was crooked, like it had been broken but he set it back himself. it suit him perfectly. his blonde hair was messy, but fell close to his eyes. his lips were full, but not overly plump.

without thinking, you reach a hand out. your fingers brushed over his cheekbone, but you immediately pull it back. his hand quickly catches yours, running his thumb across your knuckles. his face is like a breath of fresh air.

you take a deep breath, “you’re pretty, ghost.”

a small smile tugs at his lips, his eyes crinkling.

“so are you, kid. so are you.”

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a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #soap #john soap mactavish x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #john price x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gn!reader #cod mw2 #cod #cod mw2 imagine #grim au

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s0lar-ch3ri · 9 months

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thinking about him (spoilers for jrwi)

thinking about how in atleast 2 scenarios chip has blamed himself more then needed, first with ollie ("i took him from his home") then with gillion ("i gave him the card") and each time he tried to put on a confident face but really it ate away at him inside.

thinking about how gillion is constantly taking on responsibility and chip canonically sees gillion as inspiration (humble beginnings, bizly says the inspo from the future is from gillion tidestrider) and its not like he only takes some blame but usually its all the blame because gillion knows how to acknowledge his faults somewhat.

thinking about how chip takes promises ever so seriously (ie, not even doing simple lies after promising gill that he wouldnt) yet hes such an example of "change doesnt happen overnight" and how he acts can be directly or indirectly related to past adventures and/or trauma (probably even how he copes is atleast somewhat connected to the guy he killed under price).

thinking about how chip grew up looking up to arlin and seeing what a great example of pirates the black rose were and trying to be something atleast somewhat great and feeling like he failed when hes the only one on deck with somewhat an idea of what a pirate is.

thinking about how chip would lie to protect his friends yes but became a lying machine to protect himself before and hid his intents because while he can absolutely trust his crew his instinct is too not because he got used to being on his own and putting himself first and now hes around people (mostly gill) who put themselves before him to help protect him.

thinking about how easily gillion made friends with people on islands and eventually it rubbed onto chip too (ie: gryffin, felipe, etc) as he unlearned the idea that hes alone in a cruel world that only exists to make him suffer and theres a light in everyones life that makes it even just slightly better, no matter the background (main example is gill again).

thinking about how much gillion is willing to sacrifice for his friends and when felipe wanted to stab him every night, it was chip who tried to talk sense into gill because he cares for gillion and (most likely) was worried that felipe may be lying about healing and may full on kill him.

and all these thoughts (and more) make me feel so much when they found the empty rowboat with nothing but ashes and a fiendish smell and gillion starts blaming himself so chip grabs his shoulders and says "its not your fault, you werent the one who made him grab the card" because somewhere in my heart it feels like maybe chip isnt just talking to gill but to the part of himself that keeps on trying to hold onto every wrong hes done, every sin that keeps him up at night, every lie that is amplified in his skull, that he deserves forgiveness and not everything in the world lays on his shoulders.

and with these thoughts, one more comes to mind: chip and gillion are so similar in backgrounds and morals and thats why theyre the ones that break each others walls and misunderstand each other and fight because they probably dont even fucking see it.

#jrwishow #jrwi podcast #jrwi riptide #jrwi #jrwi show #just roll with it #jrwi spoilers #jrwi gillion #jrwi chip #gillion jrwi #gillion tidestrider #chip lastname #chip bastard #just rambling #rambles #thinking

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anon-402 · 2 months

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Para los pocos hispanos fans del Pissa que andan por aqui, ahi les va un WIP de un fic que ando haciendo:

Dear Dopamine

Tags: No RPF, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Awkward Flirting, Humor, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Jokes, Letters

La vida de Philza era el tipo de comedia romántica barata que los críticos bombardearían con bajos ratings bajo el pretexto de ‘sobre-esforzarse’ y ser ‘demasiado cínica’. Es el mimos tipo de comedia que sería vendida como un romance pero era todo menos eso, e incluso cuando lo intentaba ser, el protagonista siempre era reacio con sus sentimientos; vacilando entre caminar esta línea firme de rechazo perpetuo y aceptación ambigua, y odiosamente ocasionando en más de un espectador confusión.

Lamentablemente para Philza, esa no era la única paralela existente que se podía inferir entre su vida y los romances de bajo presupuesto, pues había notado que las personas en su vecindad parecían moverse más en números pares estos últimos días. Claro, aun con las miradas calurosas y caricias asquerosamente cursis que otros intercambiaban en público, esto no presentaría un problema sino fuera porque también tenían un deseo descomunal en entrometerse en su vida personal.

Algunos optarían por señalar que la razón detrás de sus intromisiones eran bien intencionadas y se debía al hecho de que irónicamente, aun teniendo un esposo encantador que lo amaba y precedentes de varios otros pretendientes, el hombre no reconocería el amor aunque le golpeara directo en las bolas. Pero por supuesto, al no tener el concepto universal de la afinidad en un pequeño recipiente físico capaz de golpearlo, con Foolish bastaría.

Fue una suerte para él el seguir durmiendo en el templo de Rose mientras Foolish merodeaba por el centro de la ciudad. Después de todo, ¿Qué era mejor que dejarle el destino de tus relaciones interpersonales a un policía?

Si Philza tuviera la conciencia para contestar probablemente diría que cualquier otra cosa. Sin embargo, con la situación actual, fue inconscientemente forzado a otorgarle control sobre la escena del crimen que se estaba produciendo en la cima de la muralla. Los instintos policiacos de Foolish captaron en seguida al hombre encapuchado de negro que se escabulló en el elevador que llevaba a la casa de Philza, y Foolish no dudó en usar su gancho para subir y enfrentarlo.

“¡Alto ahí!” Gritó detrás del hombre que le daba la espalda, arma en mano apuntando su cabeza.

Foolish no le había ordenado levantar las manos, pero el hombre lo hizo de todas formas con un pequeño salto. Después, como si se hubiera percatado de quien provenía la advertencia, su comportamiento cambió en un instante. Sus hombros tensos cayeron en un suspiro junto con sus manos, y el hombre se dio la vuelta despreocupado. “Pendejo, casi me cago del susto.”

“Oh. Roier.” Bajó el arma, vergüenza curiosamente surgiendo dentro de él al haber apuntado a su hijo con ella. “¿Qué haces aquí?”

“Nada, nada. Solo visitaba.” Contestó demasiado rápido. Sospechosamente rápido, diría Foolish. Sus ojos se dirigieron a las ventanas de la casa de madera, “Hace mucho que no veo al Missa y quería ver si estaba en casa.”

“Missa no viene muy seguido.” Dijo Foolish, explicando lo obvio, tal vez solo para llenar la conversación y hacer sentir a Roier menos nervioso. No obstante, cuando regresó su mirada a él, se sorprendió de verlo considerando saltar de la muralla y huir. “¿Tenías algo que hacer aquí o…?”

“No, no, como crees.” Agitó una mano en desconsideración. “Bueno, a lo mejor. Pero no le digas a nadie.” Cualquier pizca de incertidumbre fue borrada de su voz, dando paso a un raro entusiasmo. Foolish asintió a su pregunta, y ambos se acercaron para susurrar a pesar de no necesitarlo. “Voy a ayudar a Missa con Philza.”

Tomado por sorpresa, retrocedió con una risita, “¿Qué?”

“Missa anda chinge y chinge con el Felipe y que no se merece su amor y no sé qué tanta verga– así que lo voy a ayudar a ver si así se calla.”

“Okay,” Digirió sus palabras con lentitud, “¿Pero no Phil y Missa ya eran… algo?” Finalizó estúpidamente, confuso de la posible relación de ambos. Estaba seguro de haber escuchado por ahí que estaban casados los primeros días de conocerse, pero considerando el tiempo que había pasado y la falta de presencia de Missa, bien podría haber sido solo un rumor.

Viendo la cara de Roier, él también parecía estar igual de confundido. “No. Creo. La neta no sé.”

“¿Entonces qué? ¿Tienes planeado irrumpir en su casa y buscar, como, evidencia de ellos siendo pareja?”

“¿Qué? No. Ni que estuviera pendejo.” Como si fuera por arte de magia – y distrayendo a Foolish al preguntarse si las había sacado del culo – produjo una pluma y varias hojas de papel, todas de un color amarillo suave con un estampado floral. “Voy a escribir una carta a Philza en nombre de Missa para empezar un intercambio de letras entre los dos. De esta manera, aun si fueran algo, seguiría ayudando a Missa con su crush.”

Dejando de lado la posibilidad de que los otros dos hombres fueran tan emocionalmente constipados como para estar casados pero no al tanto de sus respectivos sentimientos, Foolish comentó sobre algo que le interesaba más. “Eso no explica porque estás aquí.”

Roier sonrió. Era la clase de sonrisa de alguien que no sabía de lo que estaba hablando. “¿Dónde más las voy a entregar? Esta es la casa de Philza, ¿No?”

“Uhm, ¿En la biblioteca? Tenemos un sistema de correo y todo.”

“¡¿Tenemos una biblioteca?!”

“¡¿Dónde más pondríamos las cartas?! ¿En el buzón donde nadie pudiera encontrarlas?”

“Bueno, me vale madre. Ya estoy aquí.” Resopló tomando asiento al lado del trampolín y recostándose bocabajo al igual que una niña con su diario.

“Podrías simplemente dejarle una nota a Missa con tu idea y que él lo hiciera.”

“Missa nunca va a dar el primer paso. Es demasiado pussy para hacerlo.”

Instinto policiaco o no, cualquiera hubiera notado el tono inusual en su voz. Aun si Foolish no podía captar del todo qué era. ¿Anhelo? ¿Arrepentimiento? Fuera lo que fuese, era mejor no insistir. La pérdida de Cellbit era muy reciente todavía.

“¿Y si te atrapan?” Preguntó después de un minuto, llamando la atención del perpetrador.

“Pos culpamos al pinche Badboyhalo y que le haga como pueda.”

Foolish parpadeó, asimilando lo que acababa de decir su hijo. Honestamente, no era la peor idea que se había concebido en la Isla Quesadilla. Se encogió de hombros y tomó lugar a su lado. “¿Cómo piensas empezar?”

“No sé, con algo que diga que lo extraña o una mamada así. ¿Tú qué piensas?”

“Podría funcionar; algo que diga que tanto lo extraña. O, qué, no importa que tanto tiempo pase, él tendrá, ya sabes,” Foolish soltó una risa entrecortada, de repente cohibido ante el uso de la pareja como un reflejo de su propia relación. Quizás aquello podría servirle como un incentivo para armarse de valor e intentar reconectar con Vegetta a través de cartas. O Quizás debería prestar más atención y notar que Roier seguía escribiendo y diciendo en voz alta “Algo así como ‘Oh, Philza, estás bien pinche guapo vamos a coger–” al mismo tiempo que Foolish terminó con un “Seguirá regresando a su lado– Oh.”

“¿Qué?”

“Tal vez– Tal vez no deberías de ser tan directo. No creo que Phil aprecie un trato tan directo…”

Rodó los ojos, “Le va a gustar cualquier cosa que venga de Missa.”

Pero pese a su comentario, Roier frotó su pulgar sobre la frase, tratando de borrarla con su sudor. Pensó en usar su saliva para dispersar la tinta, más pareció olvidarlo cuando Foolish volvió a hablar, y dio vuelta a la hoja como si nada hubiera sucedido.

“¿Qué tal si mejor comienzas con un saludo?” Roier asintió y se encaminó para escribir ‘Mi amor’ solo para ser interrumpido otra vez. “Creo que ‘Mi amor’ sigue siendo muy directo para ambos, o sea, si fueran solo amigos creo–” Roier chasqueó su lengua, tachando el escrito y colocando ‘Pendejo’ como saludo, “No, no me refería a eso–”

“¡Cabrón, decídete! ¡No soy pinche documento de Word para darle control zeta cada que se te ocurra algo nuevo!”

“¡Solo estaba intentado ayudar!” Tratando de bajar su voz, suspiró, “‘Mi amor’ está bien.”

Roier entrecerró sus ojos con sospecha, pero regresó al papel para tachar el saludo una última vez y volver al apodo cariñoso. Jugueteó con la pluma paseándola entre cada valle de sus nudillos, no quitando los ojos de las palabras recién redactadas y esperando la luz verde de Foolish. “¿Y ahora?”

Hizo una pausa, considerándolo. “Supongo que podríamos irnos por algo más poético. Eso nunca fallaba con Vegetta.”

“A Vegetta solo le gusta lo poético porque es un viejo–” El movimiento de la pluma paró. “¿Qué tan viejo es Philza?”

“No lo sé, pero probablemente muy viejo.”

“Muy, muy viejo.”

Para ser dos personas excepcionalmente ruidosas, ambos se sumieron en un silencio.

“¿Entonces poético?” Foolish fue el primero en hablar.

“Nos van a llamar el mismísimo Paulo Coelho después de esto.” Roier contestó con una sonrisa, sumergiéndose dentro del rol de escritor fantasma.

#pissa #qsmp shipping #ahi no acaba el cap #pero pos. es un wip.#a lo mejor lo termino en una semana? no se #pero cuando lo haga borro este jajaja

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princesscatherinemiddleton · 4 months

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The Wales Family in 2023 ♛

So, coronations are less fun than I thought they'd be. Despite that, the coronation gave me some incredibly fun moments, from the Wales family volunteering together to the walkabout on The Mall, from seeing various royal families interacting (including besties Kate and Felipe!) to seeing the Princess of Wales on coronation day itself! In fact, we saw a lot of royal family interaction this year - William and Catherine travelled to Jordan for the wedding of Crown Prince Hussein to Rajwa al Saif, they hosted both the Crown Princely couple of Norway and the Crown Princess couple of Sweden at Windsor Castle, and long-time best buds Catherine and Felipe reunited at the Wimbledon Gentleman's Finals. Sport was another highlight of the year, with the Wales family attending rugby matches (x, x, x), tennis tournaments (x, x, x) and even appearing on a sporting podcast! Both William and Catherine gained several military positions during the year (x, x, x) and have had a go at driving armoured tanks. As well as working with their patronages, William and Catherine have been able to support their own interests. William has continued to promote the Earthshot Prize, and also started Homewards, an anti-homelessness initiative. Catherine, meanwhile, launched the next phase of her early years work with Shaping Us. And in a twist expected by no one, the Princess of Wales finally debuted the Strathmore Rose Tiara. On a personal level, William and Catherine gained a new nephew - little Inigo Middleton - as James and Alizee Middleton welcomed their first child. Next year, I am asking anyone who is listening for a week-long tour (or two!) because they have been sorely lacking this year! If not, I'd love to see William and Catherine continue to flourish in their new roles as Prince and Princess of Wales.

#mine #royaltyedit #yearreview #cambridge family #kate #will #george #charlotte #louis #shaping us: campaign launch #hmm meeting 23 #the coronation of king charles iii #coronation volunteering #eurovision23 #hussein and rajwa #ey symposium 23 #christmas carol concert 23

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soupy-sez · 10 months

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Village People – Macho Man (1978) [X]

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months

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Taken!Series Part Six: Family - Angel Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @emily2003alzaga @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @expir3dl0v3 @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @stressed-chas @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics

Taken!Series:

Part One: Mother - Tragedy strikes when Angel leaves you and Valeria alone for the evening.

Part Two: Bleeding Out - Angel returns home to discover what happened at the house.

Part Three: Touch & Go - Angel discovers where Valeria was taken.

Part Four: Meth Mountain - Angel retreives Valeria.

Part Five: Perfect - Angel reveals what he was really doing the night you were shot.

When you come home, it’s to Felipe’s house.

To a bedroom that’s been redecorated, to a space that’s tailored to help with your recovery.

You’ve been in Angel’s old room before. It used to be a blast from the past, basketball stuff littering the shelves, old, chequered sheets on the single bed in the corner, pictures of motorcycles and scantly clad women on the walls.

That’s changed now. There’s a double bed with crisp white sheets with pretty little plants embroidered into it, a swing cradle for Valeria is situated along side of it. The shelves hold all of your items from home. The various terrariums, the pressed rose in a frame from your Nana. Your clothes are hung up in a gorgeous dark wood wardrobe that had been hidden underneath Angel’s half naked lady posters.

The truth is you can’t go back to the house you were injured in, and neither can Angel. The memories are too raw, too vivid so instead you return to Felipe’s. A place where you can rest and recover with the help you need and the proximity to your daughter. You need to be close to her in the aftermath, the same way that Angel does.

Right now, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, rocking the cradle lightly as Valeria kicks her legs and puts her hands to her mouth. Those dark eyes of hers stare up at the mobile that Felipe had crafted for her, brightly coloured zoo animals that ensnare her attention. You feel settled right now, at peace. For the first time in a long time everything is right where it’s supposed to be.

Felipe clears his throat from the doorway, you tilt your head up with a small smile before your attention turns back to the baby.

“She doesn’t have a care in the world.” You say softly.

Felipe sits down beside of you, the bed dipping as his shoulder bumps against yours. He chucks his finger underneath Valeria’s chin, and the baby tries to grab at it.

“I never said thank you.” You say quietly. “For setting us up here. I know it can’t be easy having us in your personal space...”

Felipe shakes his head, cutting you off.

“It’s good to have other people around the house again.” He says, his voice gruffer than usual as he takes over the rocking. “Especially this little one.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a moment as you both watch Valeria. She’s getting tired now, her motions slowing as she turns her head.

You hear Angel’s footsteps trapsing up the hallway before he ducks into the room. He’s wearing a grey wifebeater and basketball shorts that are covered in flecks of paint. There’s a streak of green across his cheek, you can see the same colour marring his fingertips.

“Pops, you said you were getting more paint for the nursery.” He says, before he sees the two of you sitting alongside the crib. A smile crosses his features as he steps inside the room, grabbing the rag from his back pocket and using it to clean his hands.

“EZ’s old room can wait a minute.” Felipe says, continuing to rock the cradle as the baby’s eyelids start to flutter closed. “I want to spend a little time with my family.”

Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fic

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geekbroll · 2 years

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The comic book Kari Crock is coming to digital comic platforms this year.

Kari Crock is a lady crocodile working for Anvil (basically Space Amazon) delivering books, death rays, human meat and whatnot to monsters and aliens through out the galaxy. Most of whom want to eat her. Her robot bosses don't like her very much and make things difficult for her.

Issue 1 features art from Nick Cagetti, Felipe Ondera, Neal Skorpen, Amy Zing Gray, Lucas Rhossard, Tiffani Skinner, Scott W, and Maciej Skrzynski.

Nick and Felipe are back for issue 2 with Matthew James, Chelsea Rose, Kelly J. Thomas, Jade Lejeck, Amy Eloise, and Bridge of Faust.

So far issue 3 just has art from Ian Christy and Elly J. Burg, but there's a lot of art being worked on right now by a bunch of new artists to the project, as well as more returning artists.

I had exported the page files in the correct size and format last year and was ready to upload to find out that Amazon had killed Comixology Submit the week before. So I waited to see how the Comixology thing would shake out, and Amazon has more or less killed Comixology. having the new issue next to Marvel, DC, Image, Dark Horse, Oni, Archie, Boom, IDW, Dynamite, American Mythology and the rest on new comics day would have helped people find the book, but being one of millions on Kindle will make it difficult for my audience to find my book.

The plan is to fill up 4 issues with stories and then publish monthly to the Kindle, Nook and a few other digital comics platforms. I might soft launch the first issue on the Nook early, as I have several PD pulp titles there still, but last time I looked in 2015 or so, they had file size limits that made publishing comic prohibitive. I'm hoping they have fixed that since then. I have to do the research and figure out how to publish to the platform again.

P.S. Nick Cagetti, who created the look of Kari Crock when we started this in 2018, now has his awesome comic, PINK LEMONADE, at Oni Press and you should absolutely preorder/buy his comic through your favorite LCS and digitally and support his comic in every way you can.

Also I have plenty of room for more artists if you want to draw funny animal sci-fi comics. I have plenty of 1-4 page scripts that will not overtax your time. Everyone gets a share of sale based on page count, as well as a share of the big money later in the off-chance that Netflix, Funko or Dynamite throw big money at us for a cartoon series, toys or paper reprint TPBs or whatever.

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