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prismuffin · 1 year

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The MW2 boys reaction to you calling them pretty boy

w/ Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy

warnings?: swearing, mentions of drinking

*gn reader ( can be read as any gender ! )

!-!more under the cut!-!

John Price:

—You calling him pretty boy would definitely catch him off guard.

—Honestly he thinks it's a dare

—Depending on how well he knows you he might let it slide, unless you're in public or around other members of 141, then he'll reprimand you for it.

—Secretly enjoys it but tries not to show any reaction

"Drinking all by yourself pretty boy?"

John's head snapped in your direction, seeing you leaning against the counter. He was currently at the bar having a drink though your presence completely caught him off guard. He eyed you up and down before taking another sip of his drink, already sensing the headache inducing conversation ahead. "Pretty boy?" He questioned, his body jolting in a silent laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than anything. "Never call me that again Sergeant." "Yes sir."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

—Did he hear you right?

—Is honestly super flustered but is very happy with the new nickname, he's still very confused at the suddenness of it though.

—He's super smiley all day afterwards like it's all he can think about. Price had to ask him what was had happened to make him so happy.

Gaz was going through a routine pre-workout stretch in the training room. He had more of a lean build compared to some of his mates and though that doesn't make him any less capable it still made him feel as though he has to keep up sometimes. "Nice arms you got there pretty boy!" He turned his head in your direction, his eyebrows raised as he watched you wink at him before disappearing into the hallway. He beamed, feeling a bit more energized than before. He completed his workout with a confidence boost, nobody could tear Gaz down that day. He knew he was getting questioning looks from Price about his smiley attitude but he didn't care.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

—He's so confused? Like did you really just say that to him of all people?? The guy wearing the mask all the time???

—Like Price, he thinks it's a dare or a joke you got forced into by Soap or something

—Doesn't know how to take random genuine compliments that have no context so please bare with him

—Might just fully ignore you honestly, especially if its early mornings

Ghost sighed as he walked into the common room. Soap and Gaz were talking about something in the corner of the room while Price seemed to be sat reviewing some files, you standing over his shoulder. You noticed him first, your eyes catching his as he stood in the doorway. You nodded your head at him, "Morning pretty boy." He blinked at you, seeing if you were serious. It wasn't something he had expected to leave your mouth and he didn't know how to react, he was thankful for his mask at times like these. Noticing your greeting, Price had turned and nodded to him as well before the both of you went back to looking at the files. He mumbled a "Fuckin' 'ell" as he walked deeper into the room. He just hoped that nickname wouldn't stick.

John "Soap" MacTavish:

—He easily accepts the new nickname with a smirk

—Two can play that game 'cause he'll definitely flirt back a little to be honest

—You're just adding fuel to his ego ya know

—Like Gaz he's just a big ole happy boy after you call him pretty boy

Soap was with Ghost in the locker room on base. He was chatting with Ghost, though it was more like he was talking while Ghost was listening, only giving input when he felt necessary. You'd walked in when Soap had just taken off his tactical vest, leaving him in nothing but a tight black shirt. A whistle cut through the air, catching the attention of both men. "Looking good pretty boy." Soap's expression morphed from confusion to that of an amused one. A smirk rested on his lips as he crossed his arms. "Not lookin' too bad yourself there la' " He winked before hearing Ghost groan about how you two were being gross.

Alejandro Vargas:

—It catches him off guard much like Price but he quickly gets over his shock

—Like Soap he's more than likely to flirt back with you

—Finds it funny, especially if it comes from nowhere

—Will tease you to hide his own flustered state

You were currently occupying yourself by cleaning off one of your favorite submachine guns. It was then that Alejandro had walked in with Rodolfo. They were both coated in sweat after a morning run which Rudy had immediately left to wash off. You would have joined them both had you not been minorly injured on one of the recent expeditions. You weren't complaining though, you got to rest all day and take in sights like this. A smirk found its way onto your face as your eyes scanned over Alejandro's form. "Welcome back pretty boy." Alejandro shook his head, a smile resting on his face. "Ten cuidado amigo/a, falling for me can be dangerous." (Be careful, friend)

Rodolfo Parra:

—He's flattered to say the least, he definitely wasn't expecting it but he's not mad at all

—Like Gaz and Soap he's very smiley afterwards

—You made his day with such a simple compliment and he secretly hopes the nickname will stick cause it makes his heart flutter.

Rodolfo was currently training some new recruits for Los Vaqueros, yelling semi-threatening words of encouragement as he watched them run the track. The yelling along with the heat had made him a bit lightheaded though he fought against the feeling. He jolted when a hand clapped his back, turning to see your face greeting him with a smile. "You doing alright pretty boy?" If you asked Rudy later he'd definitely blame the blush rising in his cheeks on the heat. "S-Sí, I'm ok." You tilted your head, unhooking your hip flask from your belt. You held it out to him "Cuídate Rudy." (Take care of yourself) He nodded, grabbing the flask from your hand and taking a big sip before handing it back to you. "Gracias." "De nada."

----!----

( first time writing for COD men I hope it turned out ok !! )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN but you can still send me messages to see if I'm close to opening them again!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

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photographe-a-roulettes · 16 days

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Tigre blanc du Bengale - Il peut sortir pour chasser dans un territoire de forêts, marais et savanes mesurant jusqu'à 100km².

Lieu : Pairi Daiza

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bleu-sang · 2 years

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Je suis content de moi ; je suis nul en cadeau mais je l'ai faite sourire. Elle n'a rien dit, elle l'a juste pris et est remontée la joie brillant au fond des yeux.

Tout s'est déroulé comme prévu.

#l'impression d'être un villain qui a monté un gros coup d'evil genius #j'y ai réfléchi à fond avant et tout s'est déroulé selon mes calculs. voyez le génie que je suis #mouahaha (insert le chat de villain sur mes genoux alors que je fais tourner mon fauteuil de villain)#positif

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michverdun · 6 months

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"Anonymous, thank you for the 20 dollar GRO-nation, really appreciate it. Now, for any new viewers in chat who are confused, I'm currently beta testing Twitch's new GRO-your-streamer extension, so any donations made through that extention, you should see it in the bottom right corner of the screen, will be converted into pure muscle mass for me. I don't have the exact rates on me, I know its pretty low per dollar but as you can see, it adds up quick. Also if you donate over 50 dollars, I'll switch to full screen webcam for a minute and flex for you, so you all can see the growth happening in real time. Alright, now lets get back to it."

#muscle fiction #ai muscle

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patheticallyinfatuatedwithu · 1 year

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can u do one where reader and hanni are in a ldr and reader decides to surprise hanni one day HAHAHAHA im in a hanni drought i miss her sm

my dumbass, pham hanni

here u are anon! thanks for requesting, u've saved urself and others from the angst i was supposed to post ^^

eyebrows knitted together, another sigh escape your lips, ears catching the clattering sound of your friend's pen dropping on the wooden table. "can you seriously like, shut up?" you looked at her annoyed state, letting out a little laugh which absolutely ticked her off more.

she rose from where she sat and made her way towards you, her eyes lit with fire that could kill millions. "shit," you raised your hands up in defence, your own pair of eyes widening and washed over with fear. "i'm so sorry it's just that i miss her so much! her schedule's been so full nowadays that it's hard for her to make time for us, and i'm here busy studying for the upcoming exams that i sometimes fall asleep while we're on facetime."

the lit fire in her eyes were extinguished and transformed into empathy's, your lips pressing into a thin line. "i'm so-" "nope! i don't need empathy! go back to your studies." she nodded and complied, taking her seat on the floor and looked at you with regard. "i'm here if you need anyone to talk to, you know?"

you nod and took your seat on the chair adjacent to where she sat on the floor, turning your phone on and greeting the bright light when a great (dumb) idea popped in your head. your friend watched the moment unfurl, the light bulb shining brightly above your head.

"you know, whatever it is you're planning on doing, just know i don't approve." you shrug, "i'm sure you'll approve soon enough." as she want back to her studies, your eyes trained on your phone, immediately searching up 'qantas'.

after a few more prodding and tapping, you jumped in your seat and handed your phone to your friend, who's expression contorted to shock. she scoffed before handing you back your phone, "you're out of your goddamn mind."

you grinned, and all she wanted to do was snatch it off your face. "you're just jealous because i'm leaving school for 3 weeks." your friend huffed.

you boarded the earliest plane to korea the next day, threatening your friend concerning your stuff and the exasperated looks your school gave you after approaching them with the paper and the receipt.

you smiled as you reached the airport the next day after boarding the plane, texting hanni and inquiring about her whereabouts and where her dorms are. of course, she couldn't help but be suspicious of the sudden barrage of questions, playing it cool and saying "oh i'm sending you something :)"

she seemed to believe your little lie, humming to herself with a smile on her face as she carried on with the practice while you, on the other hand, exits the airport. you rung your friend who lives in korea, asking her to bring the biggest box she could and for her address too.

"you sure you don't need a hole for oxygen? you'll die in there." you smiled idiotically as she started to tape the box up, "at least i'll die doing something for my girlfriend." she groaned, "then your girlfriend will be in grief."

"fine! a small hole." she stabs a hole close to your face and you shriek, falling over with a thump. "i hate you." "thanks for the 10,000 won by the way." as she loaded you up and struggled to push you in her car, you turned on your phone and chatted hanni, informing her that the "delivery" will be coming soon.

she replied with a "what?" as soon as your friend slapped the box, pulling the box with a grunt and dragging it on the front door. she rung the doorbell and sped away, pattering of footsteps and door opening followed after. "unnie, there's a box!"

"that's mine!" "oh, alright. what did you buy?" "i didn't buy anything." "then what is it?" you felt someone grabbed the sides of the box, presumably hanni because who else would touch an unknown box that's not theirs?

"why is this so heavy?" she groaned, "what the hell did she order for me?" after she finally managed to place you inside her room, she started to pierce the tape open, touching the pillow you've placed on top of yourself.

she unfolded the piece of cardboard and opened it, "a pillow?" taking that as your cue, you rose from box and screamed, eliciting one from hanni too, a high pitched one instead. "what the fuck!"

"surprise, honey." she looked at you like you were insane, nonetheless, running to your arms and enveloping herself with the warmth you provided. "that was fucking terrifying."

"i know." you grinned, pecking her cheek as the two of you pulled away. "say, help me get out of the box?" footsteps came pattering, but you and hanni didn't mind it, the only thing in your minds was that the two of you were back together in each other's company.

"when did you leave?" she asked as you patted yourself and fixed your clothes, taking a seat on her bed. "yesterday." she quirked an eyebrow, "how much exactly did you spend?"

"we don't need to talk about that. for now, what we need to talk about is," you pull her onto your lap, looking up at her with a cheeky smile as she looked down at you with flushed cheeks. "how you've been doing."

after booping her nose, she scrunches it and you place your hands on her waist, hanni leaning on your forehead. "you're a dumbass." you hummed in agreement, "yeah, your dumbass."

"yeah, my dumbass." she whispers, leaning in for a kiss when the two of you heard an "ew." followed by an "ow!"

broken records i kinda rushed this one😭 i'm sorry😭 i'll make it up to you someday anon🥰

#kpop #kpop gg #kpop x reader #kpop gg oneshots #kpop gg x reader #wlw #gxg fluff #newjeans x reader #newjeans #pham hanni x reader #pham hanni #hanni x reader #kpop oneshots #gxg

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clhook · 1 month

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Cette nuit j'ai rêvé que la ville faisait une grande campagne d'adoption des chats errants et le maire voulait que chaque service ait un chat à présenter au public, il avait attribué à la médiathèque un gros chat roux et blanc qui s'appelait Activia puis je me suis réveillée et depuis Activia me manque trop 😢😢

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 27 days

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My Dearest Friend...

Glaciated Memory AU | Master Of Ice Art

[]

Imagine this, if you will: you meet your best friend when you’re young and he already has graying hairs.

Well, young is a relative term. You’re not exactly young, or at least you don't think so. The younger children around the village call you old even though that’s hardly something to judge one's age by--you’ve only just started university--but your friend is older.

You had never enjoyed the snow coating the grass or the cold and frost that cling to your lashes on the early morning walks to your winter classes before, but that day, with ice stretching in front of you, shielding you and keeping you safe from harm, that day when he looks back over his shoulder at you and gives you a warm smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, you exhale and see the frost on your breath and you suddenly find you can never look at things like winter and white and cold the same way again.

His eyes are so light of a blue they are almost white. They’re a heavy contrast to his dark skin. At first you think the ends of his long hair are white but it sparkles like glitter and ice and you realize it's coated in frost.

He saves your life.

He has a limp you notice when he leaves the village, simply a traveler passing through like a snowfall. You drop your papers, your pencils, your projects and they spill over the ice at your feet.

“Wait--Wait!”

He waits.

You design and build a leg brace for him in your dorm. He waits patiently, standing, still as an ice sculpture until you're finished the next morning.

“Come back if it stops functioning,” you tell him.

He studies you with calculating eyes that shouldn’t have been so warm when their colour was so cold. He nods.

And he does come back. A few months later. You offer him tea and show him your plans for a new brace--one that improves upon the failures of the old one--something you started designing the moment he’d left the first time. He sits down this time and smiles and you chat. Your breath shows in the air with every exhale the longer he stays. Your teeth chatter through your grin and he grins back before throwing back his head to laugh.

You become fast friends after that.

You learn to wear more layers. His hair grays more and you graduate after many long sleepless nights studying and designing. Biomechanics, biomechanical engineering, robotics--you find fascination with building, with bodies. “A marvel,” you mutter. “A marvel. I wonder if I could replicate it.” And he smiles at you.

He comes and goes as often as cold weather. You stay holed up in your house for the most part. Designing, building. You wave him over to his new brace, made from a material more resistant to cold than the last. You’re learning. He stays for tea and you make up a guest bedroom just for him. It stays there for years to welcome him whenever he visits.

Once, someone comes to find you for knowing him. You need a leg brace of your own after that.

He has more enemies than he has friends it seems.

“I am sorry, my dear friend,” he says. There is a blizzard outside.

Your discoveries are stolen one night and someone else’s name is plastered across your work no matter how hard you try. That breaks you more than anything else.

“I’m thinking about moving,” you tell him one night, as though you haven’t been silent for the past three days.

“Oh?” he says. “Where to?”

“Somewhere cold.”

He laughs.

He takes you to a place outside of any town. Remote and freezing.

“This is my home,” he says to you. It’s a perpetual winter.

“I think I’ll build a bunker,” you say, your nose numb from the chill.

You get kicked by a treehorn and you make a sign Beware of Treehorns and hit your dearest friend with it.

“I apologize, I should have warned you,” he laughed. “I had forgotten they were unfriendly to others.”

“My ribs do not accept your apology,” you sniff.

“Will you accept it instead?”

You huff and puff out frosty breaths and jam the sign into the ground.

Of course you forgive him. How can you not?

You build something to protect you and your bunker from the creatures when your friend is not there.

He enters your bunker shaking snow off his layers and off his straw hat.

“No--not on the floor.” You throw your hands into the hair. “Now I’ll have to mop it all up.”

“My apologies,” he says, though he’s smiling wide enough to show his white teeth. “I shall assist you.”

When the frost finally melts from his hair in the warmth of the bunker you see it wasn’t the ice and snow making it look white this time.

“What is this?” he asks, looking at your project, a skeletal structure made of spare parts you’ve started to construct, loose wiring and tools scattered about it.

“A marvel of engineering--or well, it will be soon.” He looks dubious so you take off your glasses and wipe them on your shirt. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only just beginning to build what I need.”

“I won’t be back for a while,” he says quite suddenly.

You put your glasses back on hastily. “Is something wrong?”

“Please, keep far away from the north side of the forest until I return.”

You’ve known of the serpentine war for a long time. You hear of it in the north when you’re purchasing supplies from the nearby town. You know it's over when he stumbles into your bunker and collapses face-first onto your carpet.

You have never seen him in red before and you find you do not like the sight.

The type of first-aid he needs is one that requires study and time that you do not have.

He catches your hand mid-way through bandaging his side.

“I’ll be alright,” he says, his voice like a cool, barely-there breeze.

“Of course you will.” Your teeth are chattering, you realize, even though it’s not cold in your bunker.

He does heal up. It takes a few months before he’s hiking with you to the town, leaning heavily on you and the walking stick you’ve made him. Your project lays on the table forgotten.

The Birchwood Forest is colder than it ever has been.

“I’ll be back,” he says once he can walk on his own.

“You won’t be leaving,” you say firmly.

“Julian,” he says. “My friend. I must go.”

You wonder if it makes you a terribly bad or terribly good friend for letting him.

You pour yourself into your work. A body takes shape in front of you. You do everything you can to make it human.

No one can steal this from you. It is yours and yours alone and it is marvelous.

It’s years before your friend returns.

Your creation is walking by then. There are wires still exposed and kinks to work out but you’re so proud of it. He enters through the door, slowly and with enough snow on him you’ll be swimming in it by the time it melts, but you don’t care.

You introduce him to your work.

“I used the face I knew best!”

Your friend smiles. There’s sadness there.

“Julian,” he says. “I’m dying.”

His hair is fully white.

Your smile vanishes.

You hadn’t noticed your own gray hairs and wrinkles until then.

“I have no family. No one to pass my element to. I have been looking, Julian, but…”

He needs your help. Not to live, no matter how much you talk to him, but to ensure the element he carries within him does not die.

So you create something that can store it. You travel to places together, you gather what you design, you design and through trial and error you make something that can hold the power.

“There’s no one I trust with it more,” you tell him as you tinker with your creation. “He’ll keep it safe. I designed him to protect.”

“Thank you,” your old friend says, like a breath of relief.

You create him a holder for his element and store it in the creation that shares his face.

He wants to pass in the snow. You carry him the Glaciar Barrens and it is there your friend takes his final breath.

And you discover you have done more than store his element.

Your Zane acts differently. From the moment your friend takes his final breath, your Zane seems to wake up.

You continue tinkering, researching and you don’t know what you have done but nothing can explain it.

It’s his eyes that are the same. His face that you replicated to the best of your abilities still has some differences.

The eyes however. The eyes you know.

You don’t have time to begin to miss your friend when he’s standing right in front of you.

Zane feels, just like you wanted him to. You put everything you can into upgrading him until he’s as human as he can be. Until he can feel the temperature of something by touching, until he can feel the breeze and the snowflakes as they fall on his skin.

You add a memory switch, something that is not human. You hope that it will return his memories from before, but it does not. You leave it untouched for years.

And then you are old.

You are old and your friend has not aged. You have built him everything, you have taught him how to speak again, to learn to read and observe, you have taught him everything you can. But you do not know how to teach him to move on. You never did.

“Goodbye, old friend,” you say and you flick the switch so that he may start anew and live on without you.

You watch the light fade and his eyes darken to brown.

You close your eyes.

And a long time later in a dusty empty bunker, they open back up.

----

Zane blinked.

It was cold.

He was standing at the edge of a village, bare feet in the snow. His toes were numb. Villagers who had caught sight of him were approaching, calling over others to bring warm water and blankets.

He felt as though he was forgetting something rather important.

#LEGO Ninjago #zane julian #Doctor Julian Ninjago #Dr. Julian Ninjago #Glaciated Memory AU #KNOX WRITES (me)#i dont know why this ended up the way it did but HERE WE ARE IG #wrote this in one sitting wheezeHDJFJJG #i blanked out i remember next to none of thisHDJDJFJ #ALRIGHT weeeeeee time to work on other fics my goodnessHDJFJG #no edit we die like garmadon #SILLY GOOFY TIMES FOLKS

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