#// JUST CAUSE HE ATE A BULLET *ONE* TIME

[1mpulsee]

❝ I have NEVER in my LIFE eaten a battery, that is a RUMOR !!! ❞

[eternityofend]

BOOTHILL HEADCANONS

> Reminder that this is not canon/accurate to his personality (this is before Boothill gets released.)

+ contains nsfw (Is labeled)

( Art credit: @ Luvmybabygirl0 )

SFW

I'd like to imagine, that this man just does a hair flip every time he's offended at what you said.

Ex.

"My Love, I know you're jealous but it's just a cat.."

Boothill looks at you for five solid seconds, and then hair flips to let you know he's really offended. "Tell the cat to move then, that's my place."

Does not skip leg day, would probably kabedon you using his LEG or if he does work out he'd probably want to use you as weight, like letting you sit on him while he does push-ups.

Loves going on little trips with you using horses, if you don't have your own horse he'd definitely let you ride his horse but you're in front of him.

Bonus points if you're shorter than him cause he'd put his chin on top of your head while his hands go around your waist to grab the rein.

Would flex to everyone about you, like- he's in a fight with someone? "You weak cutie(bitch), my lover hits harder than you."

Would call you petnames like "Sugar", "Honey", "Darling" , "Babe/Baby" , "Sweetheart" , "Love" , "Love bug" , "Sunshine" , "Pretty (boy/girl/thing)"

Listens to Lady Gaga, I'm sure of this, he would so rock it out on the dance floor and get you to dance with him.

Has eaten a bullet in front of you and was incredibly confused at your reaction that was just like 😰, until you tell him that you were surprised he ate a bullet he'd just be like 🤨 but if you did tell him straight away, he'd cackle at you.

Sometimes forgets he was originally a human so he does the craziest things knowing he can get fixed up anyway (he once jumped off a 13 foot building to chase after an enemy)

Loves to cuddle you, he wants to feel your warmth while he sleeps or relaxes.

Lets you braid his hair or comb it if you want to, once he gets used to you combing or braiding his hair he'd just walk up to you at random times with a brush in hand and let you do what you want with his hair.

Really reckless and causes a lot of trouble sometimes but there are days where he's really calm and all he wants to do is spend time with you, like he just acts like a cute little kitten who just woke up when he's calm.

If JoJo existed in their world, he would be a big fan of it.

Would let you name his gun or horse, does not complain at all even if you name it "princess twilight sparkle cookie crumble" he'd just laugh, completely accepting the name.

Even says the name during fights, he'd say "Your time's out, time to die by my princess twilight sparkle cookie crumble." 😭😭

Looks at his reflection in the mirror a lot while practicing poses, even getting you to watch from the bed or couch while showing you a new pose he likes.

Kisses you a lot, even in public he's really affectionate and touchy, cause no way is he letting other people look at you and think you're single.

You're hot and he knows you're hot so he's trying his best to make everyone know you're already taken.

If someone TRIES to flirt with you in front of him, he's already got you by the waist, against the wall, making out while he flips off the one who tried to flirt with you.

Would let you pick his earrings, always excited when you say you bought a new earring for him.

Looks good in an apron, like, really good. Househusband material frfr.

Plays with your hair a lot, twirling it, and even kissing some strands while he looks at you in the eye.

Easy to get flustered but it always leads to him making you more flustered, he takes everything like a challenge but he does love it every time you sass him back or flirt with him.

Causes a lot of trouble for you and with you, if its for you it's going to be super romantic however it'll make some people irritated, but if he's causing trouble with you, its more chaotic and a LOT of people will 100% get pissed.

Cannot sleep without you in his arms, he'll walk over to your room (if you guys aren't sharing one), hair all messy from tossing and turning because you weren't in bed with him. He'll just plop into your bed, it doesn't matter if you're even awake or not he just wants to hold you while he sleeps.

NSFW

Definitely takes off his hat and puts it on you BUT only when he's letting you ride, if you're having normal sex he'd probably just keep it on or let you bite on it while he fucks you from behind.

Probably says something weird during sex which I would love to imagine would just be "Yeehaw" because he can't curse.

Probably into roleplay where you're a criminal and he's a cowboy who successfully hunted you down or the opposite, has a bunch of handcuffs just to use it for roleplay.

I feel like he'd just be the type of person to use sex toys, not dildos though cause he wants to be the only dick inside you, something like collars, leashes, handcuffs, whips, ropes,

He'd be into gags, bondage, dirty talk, lactation, blindfold sex, spit, both praise and degrading kink, spanking, anal, lap-dances, fingering (he'd be conflicted about receiving), oral (receiving and giving), sensory deprivation, and gun play!

If he doesn't have a dick, he'll probably have a bunch of straps, he's good at giving oral but would still prefer fucking you with a dick than fingering or eating you out. (Unless he's the one getting fucked)

I feel like he's a switch but more on the dominant side, he's super open to submission as long as his partner can pleasure him real good.

This man walks around technically naked all the time, so he's got to have imagined having public sex here and there, but most likely in bars where everyone's busy and doing their own thing. Like it'd turn him on if you were just on his lap humping his erection while you both are in a bar but everyone else is just too drunk to notice at all.

Super vocal, grunting, moaning, sometimes even whining and whimpering, you got it all, bonus points because he does it all straight into your ear.

Uses his sharp teeth to mark you all over your body and then sucks on it to leave hickeys, would likely be a little menace and leave his marks somewhere visible even if you're wearing clothes so people would know your his

Wants you to pull on his hair while fucking, he wants to be able to know how good he's making you feel and hair pulling would be his goal to make sure you're getting actual pleasure.

When he kisses you or makes out with you, it'd always involve tongue, has a little hand that sneaks over to your waist stopping at your hip or your ass.

Slaps your ass loud, especially in public, he just smacks it while you're in mid-conversation and the sound just ECHOES, it doesn't hurt it just sounds like it does, he just stands there smirking while you stare at him.

He's an ass guy, boobs are nice to him cause he can suck on the nipples but definitely an ass guy, you cannot tell me he doesn't fuck you from behind solely to see your ass jiggle with every thrust he does.

Flat? Nuh uh, he's making that shit bounce no matter what.

Likes playing with you using his gun, frequently flicks the handle of his gun over your nipples or dick/pussy, sometimes he shoves a little bit of his gun in and if you get your cum on the muzzle, he'd lick it right in front of you.

Likes praising you and getting degraded, is into getting whipped too, he secretly wants to be on his knees begging for you, worshipping you, while you're standing over him with a whip in your hands. (The whip doesn't actually do any damage)

Does not care what gender you are, sometimes he'd misgender you on purpose and call your ass a pussy or if you're a girl, he'd probably call you "pretty boy" just to get you riled up.

His favorite positions when bottoming would be cowgirl, and his favorite position if he's on top would be Doggystyle.

(Edit: I just realized how much of a power bottom he is, but it's up to you, the reader whether you want to fuck him or be fucked by him 😇)

Please do remember everything is just a headcanon and is not actually linked or accurate to what Boothill's like in canon.

( Art credit

1st: Kradebii on Danbooru

2nd: Tei (@2hwe1) on twt

3rd: 2월14일 (Valentine_DD_) on twt )

Please tell me if I got the artists wrong!

[cornerstoreclown]

Mornings with Art? I think it’s a cute scene to imagine Art eating while reader comes in (all sleepy and groggy and out of it cause they just woke up), wordlessly kisses him on the cheek, and makes her breakfast

Writing this before bed. So if there’s errors, I’ll get ‘em tomorrow. For now here’s some domestic shit. I did add dialogue though, I hope that’s okay! I was trying to think of how to go about it without words but then I just went wherever my head led me.

F!Reader x Art

———————————

Ever since he’d come home one particularly bad night due to a victim that just so happened to be carrying a firearm, he’d been taking it easy on himself. A few bullet wounds here and there, which you helped him patch up with the standard bandages and gauze, but for the most part he took his injuries in stride, opting to lay low and keep indoors for however long he decided. Dying was hard when you were a supernatural force, which you knew he very well was. You let him borrow the spare room to work on whatever gadgets and gizmos he wanted to create for his next escapade–for whatever that might actually entail.

As long as you’re not at the end of his knife, gun, mace–whatever weapon he decides to use, you’re fine with it. Though you know one day you might end up with one of those weapons lodged in your back or in your skull, you pray that it never happens. The first mistake would be to get comfortable around this man and let your guard down, which you never did.

However, it’s moments like this, when he’s sitting at the kitchen table when you head downstairs for breakfast that really make you want to do otherwise. Especially right now.

Art was sitting right at the kitchen table, eating frozen pizza from last nights dinner, and he’s doing it rather politely, you note. One slice on a paper plate, napkin nearby, and another slice being daintily held with both hands as he quietly and gently chews each bite he takes.

You have to remind yourself he killed someone last month and ate a rat last week. But it doesn’t stop you from tiredly smiling as you watch him through your unkempt hair that obscures part of your vision.

He merely regards you with a look, still munching away.

Fatigue whispers in your ear and urges you back to your warm and comfy bed. But whether you’re burdened by school, work, or both, there’s no rest to be had.

“Hey,” You yawn tiredly, walking your way to the coffee machine. It was either that or tea this morning. Art was a tea kind of guy, so you put on the electric kettle for him.

He resumes eating, almost finishing his first slice. He’s now got one leg crossed over the other as he assesses you in your oversized t-shirt, munching away on the crust. He has an aura of sassiness to him this morning with that body language.

“Yeah, yeah, I look rough, I know. Not all of us are divas when we wake up,” You lean against the counter, folding your arms across your chest. “And pizza? For breakfast? Come on.”

Art just responds in kind with fluffing up his imaginary hair and then flipping it over his shoulder. Bad hair day? Couldn’t be him!

“You got any plans for today, or are you just gonna go back to crafting shit in my spare room?”

Art shrugs his shoulders as he reaches for the second pizza slice, this time ripping off parts of the cold sauced and cheesed up flatbread to pop in his mouth in a very prim manner. He’s been very into letting his whims lead his decisions as of late.

“Gotcha.” You remark, not sure where to continue the conversation immediately, but you don’t need to worry about that as your coffee has finished brewing and the electric kettle has heat up the water. You sweeten your coffee to taste, as well as Art’s tea in a timely manner. He liked his drinks sweet. Anything bitter was an immediate no. With the remaining hot water in the kettle, you use it to make yourself instant oatmeal.

You plant a kiss to his cheek which he allows as you put his drink down near him. You take your seat on the other side of the table where your oatmeal waits, coffee mug in hand, watching him eat. Silence passes between the two of you until you finally voice what you’ve been thinking for the past few minutes.

“Can you rip me off a piece?”

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny thinks he's done a wonderful job all things considered. His city is safe, no one has died yet, no major injuries, Vlad had screwed off after Danny beat him within an inch of his afterlife (Danny learned that Vlad was a revenant abusing dirty ectoplasm for powers-not a halfa), ect.

Most of his rogues gallery also stopped bothering him once it became clear he was having trouble keeping his increased power in check and was trying hard not to hurt them. Unfortunately there was one who refused to leave him alone. A warrior princess was demanding his hand in marriage as she needed to be married by the summer solstice of next year or the throne would be passed down to her younger sister, who was already married.

It didn't matter how many times he said no, she kept coming back and challenging him for his hand. Each time she came back stronger and with new tactics and weapons to try. He was starting to fear she might actually win one day. That day might be sooner rather than later as her latest scheme was cutting it close.

Deciding that 1. Amity didn't need him anymore if he closed the portals 2. He was probably going to have to leave anyway if he loses and 3. He didn't have a future in this world as Fenton anymore he leads her on a wild goose chase back into the GZ and causes the portals to collapse in on themselves. The princess laughs, thinking he had given up. But no.

Danny put a curse on himself to turn him into a bat for the next year or so, a full month longer than the princess had left to find a spouse. She screams. Appearently she had a phobia of bats, who knew? Anyway he was left alone to fly through the Infinite Realms and find a new home.

He found a new world easily thanks to the natural portals of the IR and crossed though. Immediately being pelted on all sides by freezing cold rain was not what he expected but its what he got as he flew over a sign that proclaimed the city beneath him was called Gotham. The little glowing white bat flew through the night for hours before seeing a fruit bowl laying innocently on a kitchen counter through a window. Whats more it was in some giant manor so the occupants probably wouldn't mind if he ate an orange or two.

Right?

Needless to say a kid around the age of 11 or twelve walked in on him clutching an apple like his life depended on it while furiously munching. The kid looked...excited? He started going on about names and what he would need to care for him. Danny wasn't really listening, he didn't realize how hungry he had been until he started eating. He waited until the kid had looked away to turn himself and his apple invisible. This bothered the kid who looked suspicious but went to look for "the bat" anyway.

Later, while Danny was taking a shower in the kitchen sink to wash off the remains of his meal (I headcanon that Danny is a bit of a neat-freak) some other guy walked in holding an empty coffee mug and wearing eyebags that would put a raccoon to shame. They just stared at eachother for a solid few seconds before Danny started squeeking in rage and covering himself with the washcloth he was using to scrub himself clean. It looked like something out of a cartoon. Tim thought he was hallucinating but why would he hallucinate a glowing white bat with hearts all around it (that part isn't real) taking a shower in the kitchen sink. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something??

The next victim person to spot him was Duke who just stood in his doorway as this glowing white bat rolled an orange down the hallway. He decided this was a problem for the night crew and went to tell them.

Alfred saw a small shock of white fur and heard squeeking. His first thought was 'rat' and he didn't even hesitate. Danny dodged 3 bullets and got the hell out of the kitchen.

The batfam are debating on whether this was a shifter or an meta animal that was experimented on.

[mcflymemes]

BULLET TRAIN (2022) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

if you mention thomas the tank engine one more time, i'm gonna shoot you in the fucking face.

would you describe me as someone who lives in perpetual anxiety?

well, you also have a shoot-able face.

you never know what horrible fate your bad luck has saved you from.

thank you for taking the job on such short notice.

you are getting the new and improved me.

i'm less reactive to situations, i'm more accepting of people's shortcomings.

you put peace out in the world, you get peace back.

i'm not even trying to kill people and someone dies.

i could live here. i like the atmosphere, the people are considerate.

i know i'm being judgmental. i need to work on that.

this train is bound for kyoto.

i'm gonna assume you didn't take the gun?

you know, i'm thinking of starting my own agency.

what am i snatching and/or grabbing?

shit, i think i dropped my ticket.

you're bleeding.

who the fuck did i kill?

i think they'll notice the childish code names first.

when was the last time you ate a lemon meringue pie?

there's always a catch.

you idiots work for my father?

you ever watch thomas the tank engine? everything i learned about people i learned from thomas.

i want to strangle you now.

why do you always bring swords?

that wasn't our fault.

hey, listen, i'm just gonna get off at the next stop.

where's the briefcase?

he doesn't need a reason to kill people like you.

you're going to want to hear the whole story, or you'll be very, very sorry.

why do i even bother forwarding you the briefings?

no one really knows the truth.

we are... fucked.

find me the son of a bitch who did this.

can we just take a time out here? talk this out?

why does that sound so familiar?

the guy who stabbed me. i spilled wine on his suit.

one of them is walking towards me right now.

why are we whispering?

your orders were to stay on the train.

can i please do my job now?

shove that fucking hat up your fucking asshole.

there's a gun underneath this table pointed right at you.

i'm just fucking with you.

real quick... every day is a fucking headache with you, innit?

you're alive, i'm alive, everyone's happy.

i just want to get off this train, go see a zen garden and some shit, you know?

there's another body here.

this guy's like criss fucking angel. he pops up everywhere.

unlike you, i'm a professional.

you shoot first and come up with the answers later.

are you hiding in a bathroom?

i knew my luck would rub off on you.

you're really proud of yourself, aren't you?

for what it's worth, you seem like a right fucking asshole and i'm glad you're gonna fucking die with me.

you proved you're smarter than everyone.

am i dreaming?

i don't know how to use a gun.

i'm glad you enjoyed the performance.

i'm mansplaining. i'm mansplaining again.

you want a blanket? you want me to hold your hand?

you have been lying to me, my friend.

i never forget a face.

i'm so happy to see you. please help me.

make sure you do something that brings you peace, 'cause everything else is a pain in the ass.

fate for me is just another word for bad luck.

why are you motherfuckers using metaphors?

i'm gonna buy us some time.

i built myself up from the nothing you gave me.

i came here to kill you.

oh shit. something's happening.

i'm sorry i shot you twice.

we're almost there. you just need to get up.

what's happening to your face? are you crying?

[obxthornton]

You Arent Him.

Summary: Logan was dead, he had been for some time now. So who was this man in his suit in need of help?

Warnings: Light plot point spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine (not really), Guns, angst, grief, talks of a miscarriage, and talks of death.

WC:2020

It had been a normal Friday. 

I woke up at 6 am, went into the woods to chop some wood for the stove, and cooked breakfast. My dog, Buck, stood next to me, waiting for his scraps of my breakfast. I ate a few bites before I put the plate on the ground and let him have the rest of the bacon and eggs. At 7:30 I took a shower before clothing my body in some jeans, tank top, and flannel. I made a cup of tea and I sat on the back porch, working on the painting I had started a few days ago. This piece was one of the mountain ranges that surrounded my house. I sat on my stool, using my pocket knife to open up a can of paint, and dipped my brush into it, working on the forefront of the painting. I had lived in this cabin for around 7 years now, alone, only with Bucks company. However, he wasnt much of a talker. Buck was around 11 now, an old companion who spent most of his time lying by my feet and barking at passing wildlife. 

I drank my tea, looking past the canvas to the area in front of me, and then painting it into the picture. I added the forefront trees, painting over the large less detailed ones I had painted in the back.  I looked up again, this time the image had changed. A large orange rectangle appeared causing me to drop my mug causing it to shatter. I stood up quickly as two figures started walking out. Reaching behind me I grabbed my rifle, cocking the gun, before standing on the edge of the porch, aiming it at the figures. My breath hitched and my eyes pulled away from the scope as one of the figures was in his suit, his. I shook the feeling away and put my face back up to the scope, shooting at the familiar figure first. I cocked the gun again and put a bullet in the red man next to him as well. "Woah Woah Woah!" The red man said holding up his arms, the orange portal closed behind the two, "We come in peace, lower your gun." I looked over the scope, blinking hard, trying to blink away the scene in front of me. I raised the gun again, staring at the familiar man in yellow in the scope, looking over his face. It couldn't be him. I shot the man again earning a groan from him. I squeezed my eyes shut at his voice, "Get the hell off my property!" I yelled shakily. Buck was barking and I opened my eyes to see the dog run towards the men. "Buck, get back here." I huffed, lowering my gun to not accidentally shoot him. Buck's barks were excited, he ran towards the man in yellow. He jumped up, squealing in excitement, barking and clawing at the man.  The man looked confused, kneeling down lightly so he could pet the dog. Buck licked his face and barked, rolling his body against the man's chest. I let out a shaky breath as I put the gun on safety and laid it back against the wall. "You got a bathroom out here? Traveling always messes me up." The red man him now right behind me, and Buck was in the arms of the yellow man. "Get the hell away from me." I huffed holding out my finger to the man, "I don't know what you think you are doing by looking like that but it's not going to work. Leave and never come back." He was so close to me now. My eyes settled on his face, racking him over to see if it was really him, it was. His face, is all the same, just alittle older. His eyes connected with mine, the eyes I fell in love with. He set down Buck and grabbed the red man's arm, "let's get out of here," he muttered. "What! we need her to save the timeline." He turned towards me, "Please ms, we have traveled across space and time to get to you. We are from a different timeline, and we need your help to save my timeline. You know logan right? This timeline's Logan, not Wolvie right here." The man spoke fast and I looked over at Logan, my eyes raking his face. His face showed he didn't know who I was, "we were told to come to talk to you."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "We can talk inside. I'll make tea," I stated grabbing my riffle and motioning my head for Buck to follow me inside. "oo yay, I love tea." the red man said following close behind. "I wasnt expecting guests so ignore the mess," I stated, walking in. The floor was littered with old paintings I had completed. I watched as Logan froze in the doorway, his eyes landing on one picture on the wall, a large image framed from my wedding day. 

The two men sat on the couch, Buck in between them. The red man, Wade I learned, was sipping a cup of tea I had made for him.  I prepared Logan's tea, steeping a bag of peppermint tea with one sugar cube and no milk, the way he had liked it 7 years ago.  I walked over, holding the mug in hand, and setting it on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes were wide and he looked alittle bit uncomfortable, looking around at the photos on the wall of the cabin. "Thank you for the tea, you have a lovely cabin here!" Wade exclaimed, his legs crossed, "I love these photos, the only proof I have that Wolvie here could smile if he wanted to." I gave the man a small smile, pulling my legs underneath me in the chair across from them. Logan gave Wade an annoyed look before he picked up the tea. He took a sniff and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, he took a sip and his face looked even more confused. "peppermint with one sugar." I said lightly causing him to look up at me, "My husband's favorite. I hope it's okay." He nodded and took another sip, cradling the warm cup in his hands, and staring down at it.

"Can you tell us alittle about him?" Wade said pointing to one of the pictures on the wall.  I hesitated, feeling the weight of my grief pressing down on me. But something in Logan's voice, the earnestness, made me want to share. "He was... brave," I began, my voice breaking slightly. "He was a fighter, in every sense of the word. But he was also kind, in his own rough way. He loved this cabin, our life together. He would spend hours tinkering with things, always trying to fix or improve something, even if it was already perfect." I played with the sleeves of my flannel, "He had this way of making everything feel... right. When things were bad, when everything was falling apart, he'd just pull me close and remind me that we were in it together. No matter what happened, he was there. He was my rock."

"Me and Logan met at a grocery store, I accidentally hit him with my cart and he was pissed. But then, he wasnt. I was probably 23, I don't know how old he was, he wasnt too fond of his old age." I stated, "We were together it felt like forever, he was the love of my life." Logan's face in the picture was happy, it was me, him, and Buck as a puppy, standing in front of the cabin. "This year we would have been married for 11 years," I sighed, "but he died 7 years ago." Logan's eyes were large as he listened.

Wade waved his hands, "wait wait wait, how? Arent you like immortal." His question was voiced at Logan, not necessarily at me. "Logan was sick, he had been sick for alittle. The adamantium was poisoning him and he wasnt doing the best." I shook my head thinking about him, "I had a bad accident that sent me into a coma about a year into Logan being really sick.” My voice caught in my throat for a second and I tried to regain my composure, “we had just found out I was pregnant too. Logan was so excited to be a father, he always wanted kids.” I shook my head trying to get the thoughts out, “we lost the baby in the accident. I would have died too, I should have died." I stared down at the messy coffee table, "But Logan is dumb, he's smart, but he was so incredibly dumb. God I hate him. I hate him for dying and I hate him even more for making it so I couldn't." I dugg around in my shirt pocket, grabbing out my pocket knife. I flicked it open, making a large slit in the palm of my hand. I held up my hand and watched as the cut slowly healed. "Dont even know how he was able to do that. I woke up in my bed, Logan's hand in mine, but he was gone." I looked at the two men, "I hate him." I turned and looked at Logan, "I hate you." Sighing I stood up, "You both should leave. I'm not going to be any help to you two."

"Wait, can we at least talk about this? Please we really need you to come back with us. Pretty please?" Wade hand praying hands, as he begged. I shook my head, "I'm sorry I'll be of no use." I turned away and walked into my bedroom, falling to my knees on the side of the bed. With my head in my hands, I cried, mourning the loss of him for what felt like another time. As if I was letting him die again. The presence of someone else filled the space and I sat up, rubbing my face. "You look just like him," I stated, smelling his familiar scent, "I have prayed every night that one day I would be reunited with my love. Yet I can't die and you aren't him."

I turned to look at the man who was looking around at the room Logan and I had called our own. More pictures scattered the walls, our closet open, filled with Logan's clothes that no longer smelt like him. "I'm not him," Logan stated. He kneeled next to me, his arms resting on his knee, the same way my husband would do when I was upset, "but I'm not leaving until I know eveyrthing is alright." My lip quivered as I stared into his eyes, "Can I have a hug?" I whispered, biting my lip to keep the tears from flowing. Logan hesitated for a second but slowly opened his arms. I latched myself around his neck, burry my face into his shoulder and his large arms wrapped around me tightly. He felt so familiar, he smelled so familiar. I cried. I cried while Logan hugged me, his arms getting alittle tighter as a sob escaped my lips. It was closer, it felt like closer. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry lo." I cried, gripping him as if he would disappear if I didn't hold on. He wasn’t the Logan I had lost, and he would never replace him. But there was a part of him, a reflection of the man I had loved, in the way he held me. It was enough to bring a glimmer of peace, and comfort I hadn’t felt in seven years. Though I knew I could never bring Logan back, or replace him, I could offer this man something. It was what my Logan would have wanted—to help, to support, to save the world. That's always what he wanted, to be a hero. He would have never turned down a way to help, to save people. I wasnt going to let his memory get tainted by my own grief. I obliged in helping the two men. And in that act of compassion, I found a small measure of solace, a piece of closure that I had been searching for. 

He had made everything alright. 

[maikissed]

and the day after that, and day after that part 2

jude bellingham x reader there's a bit of sexy times, so.. Jude likes them older so I here’s a part 2, what can I say...

Your stance awkward and stiff as you observed your surroundings, your gaze stopping a few times to glance in Jude’s direction. He didn’t seem much concerned or reserved regarding last night events and it filled you with such ire, that his confessions turned to be your burden to solve. Giving the impression as he’s been freed after voicing his decision, if u could call it that, waiting for you to make yours. As if there was any decision to make. You never wanted to make one. Your heart turned heavier at the thought of it alone, because every solution you considered in the morning seemed difficult. It was foolish. Would you break his heart? Could you? Something was telling you that he was not going to let you, and that was what frustrated you the most.

This whole day you’ve been very attentive and observant, and the revelations of many conclusions that hit you afterwards were astounding. He’s been benevolent, and caring, starting with the mug of warm lemon water waiting at you at the breakfast table. It’s been the fifth time that he prepared you your morning drink exactly the way you made it, but it’s been the first time you noticed that he remembered perfectly. He just shrugged it off. Simple gesture, with such new meaning suddenly. And then, twenty minutes later when Mia asked you if you’re willing to join her for swim, he nonchalantly stated the most obvious thing: “It’s only nine Mia, she’s not stepping one foot in the morning sun cause it’s too harsh”. He’s known you your whole life, of course he was aware of your habits and tendencies, but it struck you like a bullet after you realised not many people around you were so considerate. He’s always been close, always your favourite person to be around. He paid attention to every little thing there could be, that you preferred cauliflower over broccoli, the opinion that milk is for calves and not humans and it’s absolutely useless for our system, therefore you never drink it, so he always went on a hunt for a proper substitute for you. Even your brother frowned after you rejected the lactose free one in your coffee. Next, he remembered that you hate musicals, too big pillows to sleep on and creased, not ironed clothes. All of it, messing with your head the whole day, you were fuming. You swore something in your brain started to malfunction.

And it felt like bricks falling over your head when you caught yourself analysing his current encounter with a long-legged blond near the bar. What was it today? A nutter day? You took a big gulp of your sour drink.

“What is it with you today?” Mia slumped next to you on the settee “You’ve been having your little stuffy face on the whole day. Or is it the daiquiri?” she clicked her long nail on your glass.

“Don’t know, think I ate something bad” you murmured.

“You’ve barely eaten today” she snorted.

You sent her a sharp look.

“Maybe that’s it”

The eye roll she made at your answer did not slip your attention. Giving her a proper look you could tell your friend had already had one too many, as her accent turned heavier and her hair a little messier. She was a yapper when she was drunk, that’s for sure. She will not make this evening easy for you. And you’ve already been on pins and needles.

“You need a shag” she pointed out making you roll your eyes this time.

Well, we have an expert.

“I’ve had plenty just few days ago”

“From what I’ve heard, from you of course may I add, Alex’s not really living up to the expectations” she giggled quite proud of her valuable notice.

“He’s alright!” you fought back.

“Look around you! Maybe it’s time to taste something new”

Before you could really process what Mia’s intentions were, she suddenly stood up and your eyes widened, observing her wobbly stance, expecting the unexpected.

“Attention everybody!” she shouted and you froze, your eyes glued to her bright face “My gorgeous friend here needs a proper shag!” she accented the last word.

“Mia!” you gasped trying to grasp her arm to make her sit down because clearly, that was not very wise of her. Outrageous!  

Many faces gathered on the terrace obviously turned your way to find the source of this blatant declaration. Your face probably beet root at the moment. What a night.

“She’s quite a treat, as you can see” she twirled to take a look down at you “Any possible suitors please report to me first!”

You could hear someone laugh in the distance and you flinched knowing for sure, that every hotel guest will definitely gawk at you for the rest of your stay.

You gaped at your petite friend with open mouth. Words blocked in your throat.

“Now, we wait and see” she sang sitting down and kissing your cheek in the process.

“There’s a special place for you in this world” you hissed “You should start rubbing dirt on yourself”

“Oh, death threats?!” she just laughed it off.

There was a movement on your side and you prepared yourself for the worst, turning your eyes up to spot Jude with an amused expression painted on his face. Oh, he loved that.

“Dance with me?” that was all that left his lips and you frowned, gazing at his palm extended to you.

“And we have the first candidate!” Mia chirped.

“Now I have to keep an eye on her, thanks to your little announcement, Mia”

You saw her sending him a small wink.

“I accept your application, Bellingham”

And as you had enough of this not very enjoyable to you situation, you stood up abruptly, taking the boy’s hand, letting him lead you near the dancing couples. The song was too slow for your liking. You lost the sense of your own body as he placed your palm on his shoulder, the other gripped lightly in his left hand.

“You’re wearing the necklace” he observed, his voice startling you a little since you were immensely focused on his fingers displayed on your bare back.

Big, almost covering it from side to side.

His comment made you remember that you indeed wore the delicate necklace he gifted you for your 24th birthday. White gold, because he knew you adored it. You never wore it on a daily basis because you found it too precious. And that he knew as well.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Well, obviously not because I’m being presented as an escort for tonight”

He laughed at your comment and you smiled at the sound of it.

“I wore it as a totem” you started after a few moments, your hand on his shoulder twitched uncontrollably “Of my undying… love and devotion for you, Jude” you watched his features turning serious. Dark, sparkling eyes boring into yours. “All of it, strictly platonic” you specified.

A soft smirk flashing in front of your eyes when he spun you around, pressing you much closer to him as you faced him again. Warm flesh, hard lines of his body, close.

“I am patient” he murmured quietly.

And you felt the vibration from his words on your skin! You realised you kept your mouth slightly agape. What an arrogant, self-assured little bastard. Making this hundred times more difficult for you than you expected. What will it take for you to put up this fight?

“My father once told me” he continued, taking advantage of a lack of response from you “That if you find a person that makes your heart serene, your head calm and your body light, it means you’re home. I have this and more when I’m with you, all I’m asking for is one chance”.

You remembered the boy, always around, not as loud as your brother, gentle, considerate, the boy who used to fix your bike when your brakes started to screech or share his last sour bubble gum with you because it was your favourite. The boy who held out his hand for you when you were jumping over the fences in your neighbourhood, the first boy who called you beautiful when you wore your awkward little baby blue dress at the end of the sixth school year. He resembled him so much now, in this moment. With his eyes big and shiny, honest, sincere.

You didn’t know but minutes has passed as you reminisced, taking in the sight of his face, changed over all those years, yet eyes still the same, always. You were still rocking gently into the music but all you could hear now was slow breaths of his and yours, felt the beating of your hearts inside your ribs that were touching. The rhythm was steady, synchronised. Serene. You stopped.

Taking a step back you still held his hand with yours and there was a glimpse of something close to dismay appearing all so sudden on his expression. For the first time. There it was, you could end it now. Finally the doubt showed it’s way to the surface and it was enough. With a heart on his sleeve he confessed. And you had the tool to became the executioner. But you didn’t let go of his hand and said nothing nonetheless, just took another step back wanting him to follow. Blood pumping in your veins as you wondered what exactly were you going to do? Maybe say? But you knew what you wanted to do, you just considered if you should. Not wanting to wait too long, you didn’t head to the stairs leading to your rooms as you planned at first, instead taking a turn to the small café near the lobby, empty now at this hour, with lights low.

You faced him again, slowly placing one of your hands on his neck, the other reaching for his cheek, your thumb grazing the skin there. He pulled you closer to him, his arm fully wrapped around your middle. You sighted. After counting three steady breaths you leaned in, realising you had to stand on your toes just a little to reach him right but he lowered his head to make you both comfortable. The soft touch didn’t turn into the kiss instantly, you gently swayed making the impression of leaning back again but you quickly realised you turned a bit dizzy. It was pleasant. So when you brought your lips back to his, you finally kissed him properly and he put the perfect pressure to it in response. Nothing about it was weird, as you considered for a second before making a move. A first kiss, yet felt very natural. Like it was promised. Like it simply waited for it’s right moment. Moving your hands further up, locking them behind his head you deepened the kiss, intensifying the movement of your lips against each other and there was a moment of your lips parting just a bit more, that he took advantage of, his tongue meeting yours in a stunning flick, making you let out a timid moan. Unwise. He pushed you back gently, your bum meeting with the edge of one of the tables around. You leaned back when he sped up, the kiss heating up and your heart skipped a bit. He took notice of a gentle push of your palm on his chest, breaking the contact.

“Don’t think too much, just feel me” he whispered against your lips.

He said it to simply comfort you but it sounded so sexy you could feel tingles spreading over every inch of your skin. You refused to open your eyes at first, but when you did (a mistake) you almost choked with your own breath at the sight of him. Towering over you, close, his palm on your cheek, the other hand gripping your hip. Oh, you’ve been so foolish.

And you kissed him again, the contact more firm, closeness more certain, you could feel your breath speeding up. You were practically sitting on the surface of the table right now. Another moan leaving your throat as you could feel him sliding in between your legs, your dress hiking up a little and you were inviting him, lewdly parting your thighs.

“Jude” you breathed pulling away “We should stop there”

He looked absolutely enchanting with his pretty eyes shining in the gentle lights around you. And you didn’t move or pushed him away, so he leaned in, brushing his lips on your neck, under your ear, going lower. The warmth and wetness of his tongue on this delicate skin made you loose your composure once again and you grasped his nape closing your eyes. It was way more than just a simple contact of two excited people. You felt drugged, ecstatic, freed.

“Stop” you whispered, not very convincingly but he stopped still.

You kind of regretted it.

“I might die if you stop me right there” he rasped.

“Bit dramatic” you smiled even though you felt like agreeing.

“I’m serious” he pecked your lips to kiss you again but you turned your head away.

“Let’s go upstairs”

“To have sex?” he whispered the question into your ear, spreading goose bumps all over your neck.

You laughed.

“To talk”

[milliesfishes]

I know you’ve said you like pregnancy angst as well as kidnapping angst, so perhaps there is a really angsty way to combine the two? Billy’s girl being taken and drugged and it’s a few months after they are trying to get pregnant but it’s just not happening and so he takes her to a doctor and the doctor says that the drug used when she was kidnapped likely made her unable to have children

anon you ate with this one <3 ౨ৎ꣑ৎyou and billy can't get pregnant౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

It was a ritual of the utmost importance, almost sacred in its action. Billy's hands on you, traveling the familiar intimate path you so treasured. His mouth claimed yours as the waves of ecstasy crashed over and over again.

His elbows buckled, body going limp atop yours, head nestled in the crook of your neck. Your hand fluttered up to his hair, fingers flexing through it. Billy's lips puckered at your neck, and when he lifted his head, his chin nestled into your collarbone, eyes sleepy. Your fingers combed through the curls stuck to his forehead, brushing them to the side.

"You okay?" he murmured, bending his neck forward to give your throat a tiny kiss.

"Mmhm," you hummed. He smoothed his hands up your sides and lifted himself up to sit next to you, back against the headboard. Gently, his big hands gathered you by the hips, pulling you to sit with one leg on either side of his bare thighs. You slumped into his chest as his fingers began to trail up and down your back.

"This might be it." His words made you smile the tiniest bit, a spark of hope lighting in the foggy haze of the aftermath. He palmed the back of your head, thumb stroking your hair.

You breathed in softly, still limp from your activities. Snuggling into his arms, you nodded and pressed your lips to the spot over his heart. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes. They were warm, the familiar blue that could light you from the inside out, the fire in your hearth. Billy cupped your cheek, thumbing your jaw. He bent his head and kissed your forehead, lingering there. "Tired?"

A single nod confirmed his question, and he tenderly pushed your head back to his shoulder. "Go on 'n rest, sweetheart. I've gotcha."

Settling into his arms and closing your eyes, you breathed in softly, a prayer in your heart that this would be it. Your next monthly would not arrive and you would know there was a baby growing within the safety of your belly.

The last few months had been fruitless attempts, long days waiting and pleading with higher powers, gallons of tears shed over the cause. You wanted it dearly, more than maybe you'd wanted anything. The two of you were nearly burnt out from the effort, but still your need burnt bright.

It was triggered by the events of nearly a year ago. Snatched right from your doorstep, you had been whisked away by a gang rival to Billy's and held somewhere cold and dark. There wasn't much to remember on your part- as if your time had been made up of only emotions and not images. When recalled, you saw faint glimpses of shadows forcing liquid down your throat, knew the burn of the course rope on your wrists.

The only truly clear memory you had was of waking up to Billy's hand on your cheek, his eyes fiery but doused by the dight of you. There had been blood on his face. The remnants of his rage were scattered across the area, bullets in their heads. It had hardly felt real.

Any aftermath was revelation. You were more aware than ever how fragile your life was, and even more conscious to Billy's. It had spurred him into action too, and before you knew it you were sitting in front of him atop his horse, both your backs turned to Lincoln County and all the pain it held at its core.

He held you tighter now. You knew it and he did too. For a while every touch had been urgent, and that had calmed somewhat, but not all the way. Billy had been reminded that you were something he could lose.

So here you were now, further east where he could live in sweet anonymity. Without the threat of a war breathing down your necks, you had begun to talk of the future. But this time you spoke as though it would actually happen.

You confessed the dream that had haunted you for a long while now. Holding a baby in your arms with his blue eyes and dark curls. It almost seemed to astonish him, that it was something you desired. Your heart broke for the things he'd past told himself, but everything was forgotten when he said he wanted that too.

Having married the instant you set foot in this new place, it was the easy next step. You loved him, you knew it as if it were an instinct born with you. And you wanted to suckle everything life could possibly give with him at your side.

Yet so far nothing had come of trying. And now as you closed your eyes, cheek pressed to his naked shoulder, you wondered if anything ever would.

Billy hadn't said it out loud. But the next time you greeted him in tears, your womanly blood afoot, he did. Muttered into your hair as he sheathed you in his arms for the hundredth time with this as the cause, "Honey I think somethin' might be wrong."

You lifted your tear-ridden eyes, a question you didn't need to ask revealing itself in them. He thumbed away a tear or two before saying, "Maybe we should talk to a doctor. See if there's somethin' we can do."

All other options exhausted, you sighed and buried your face in his neck. There were only so many problems his arms could solve.

The doctor was sent for the next day. You waited nervously while Billy was out, trying to busy yourself with household chores. Things he had previously tried to quell from your mind were still prodding at you. What did I do? Why is this happening to us?

Billy, ever patient, had listened to you worry all night, trying to reassure you. "Maybe it's somethin' with me," he suggested, squeezing your hand. "Either way 's not your fault, sweetheart."

You wanted to believe him. Wanted to think there was a tea or position or prayer you hadn't tried. However, something was nagging at your insides, a dark voice that you didn't know if you could believe. For awhile you'd been shoving it aside, pushing it into the closets and corridors of your heart.

When Billy arrived with the doctor in tow, you shook it all off, focusing on what was at hand. Sitting in the living room, you answered the doctor's questions with Billy's fingers threaded through yours. At some point your cheeks started to flush from the personal nature of what you were being asked, but you reminded yourself it was for your baby. And there was hardly a thing you wouldn't do for it.

Then one came that stopped you cold in your tracks. "Have you consumed any large amounts of powerful drugs?"

A rough hand tilted your head back, the contents of a bottle pouring down your throat and making you splutter.

Your eyebrows lifted, and Billy turned his head towards you, squeezing your hand and nodding. Lips parting, you tried to formulate what you wanted to say, but it wouldn't come. Something about the question had disarmed you completely and you didn't know why.

Looking up at Billy, you silently conveyed something to him and he nodded, turning to the doctor. "Opium, we think it was. Not by her choice."

The doctor's lips folded in on each other, like the walls of a cave collapsing. He set down his notepad, turning the pages over and tucking it back into his bag. You watched him do all this, feeling disconnected from the scene. He was younger than you'd expected, maybe a decade or so older than you.

Inhaling once, the doctor set his hands on his legs, flexing the fingers. "How much opium?"

Billy covered your clasped hands with his other. "They said it was a miracle she's still here." You squeezed his hand, and he began rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

Nodding grimly, the doctor, looked Billy in the eye, than you. "There've been studies back East. About the effects of certain substances on the body."

Dread. It wormed into your bones like a snake, slithering up your spine and wrapping around your neck, cutting off the sweet gift of air. Your breath caught in your throat, and you realized you were gripping Billy's hand. Loosening your hold, you breathed out softly. Please no, please, that can't be it, please-

"It's been linked to fertility," the doctor said quietly, aware of the growing emotional turmoil in the room, building like a storm cloud over your head.

You knew what he meant. And it was far worse than anything you ever could have predicted. The doctor's lips were still moving but you couldn't hear anything he was saying, the buzzing in your ears silencing everything else. Now Billy was speaking, the voice you usually clung to falling on your deaf ears. Your eyes fell to your lap, the fingers of your free hand beginning to tremble. The realization hit you over and over until you were bruised and bloody, your spirit lying on the ground unable to rise.

Billy stood up to see the doctor out, who gave you a sympathetic look. You hardly managed a smile. Everything was spinning out of control, every imagined thing in your mind bending to the whim of this new information like the branches of a willow tree to a storm.

Your arms folded around your midsection, where you'd pulled your skirt out so many times to imagine how it'd look rounded and full of the child of the love of your life. That dream was slipping from your fingers, and you held tight by the fraying threads of it, trying to stitch it back together.

The sofa dipped as Billy assumed his previous spot next to you and grasped your hand. You raised your eyes to him after a beat of silence, a question on your tongue. Is there any way-?

The look in his eyes answered it in full.

Taking in a sharp breath, tears you hadn't known were close at hand began to gather in your eyes and spill down your cheeks. Billy pulled you in, his arms a lifeline and his chest safety. He held you the same way he had after you'd been taken.

The dream was nothing but tangled yarn now, only knotting further when you tried to unravel it. The tiniest of sobs drew from your lips and you gripped his shirt, unwilling and unable to accept it.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed, and you felt tears of his own fall like rain into your hair. "If I'd have gotten to you sooner maybe-"

"No." You shook your head, sitting up and framing his face in your hands. "No, it's not your fault." Your voice was soaked in despair, and you tried to swallow it before speaking it again. "It's my body that won't work right, I'm...I'm..." Billy closed his arms around you before you could say another word, holding your head to his shoulder and not even letting you entertain the thought.

The overwhelming sense of loss seemed to consume you, swallowing you whole as you became trapped in its mess. How can you grieve something that never was, that never will be? Every imagined child you'd conjured up was fading, becoming exactly what it was. A thought. Nothing more.

"I wanted it so bad," you breathed, hidden in his chest. Billy made no effort to coax you out. This was his way- absorbing your burdens until they became a part of him.

There was nothing left to do. The only thing remaining was the truth, stripped back bare and cruel and without any question. You realized it over and over again in the moments that followed. It unveiled itself repeatedly as if it were some new angle or facet, and you took it that way each time

Billy didn't let go of you for the rest of the night, his touch the only thing grounding you. You curled up against him as he pulled the covers over you in bed, head on his chest and over his heart.

Raising your head, you found him already looking down at you, sorrow embedded in his irises. He carried the weight of a man thrice his age, and you longed to push it off his shoulders.

You lifted yourself up just slightly, searching his eyes. In an instant, you recognized that deep-seated look, one you swore he'd been wearing since the day he was born.

"It's not your fault," you whispered, palm pressed flat to his chest.

He was silent, just staring at you. Trying again, you softly said, "It's not. This is not your fault."

"I was an outlaw." Billy shook his head, eyes falling to the bedsheets. "I dragged you into this, I'm the reason you got kidnapped...if you hadn't been than maybe-"

"Billy-" you gasped, sitting up fully as he leaned back against the headboard. "Don't. Don't ever say that."

"If it weren't for me then you'd have a chance." He turned his head away. You sat on your knees beside him, reaching for his hands and holding on tight to them.

"Billy." You said it so firmly that he looked at you. "I didn't want a baby with anybody except you. And if that's not meant to happen..." A tear slipped down your cheek, and you bit the side of your cheek. "...all I care about is that I have you."

He exhaled softly, reaching out. "Baby..." You were weary of crying but your body was not, sending another torrent of tears down your cheeks.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," he whispered, hand at your crown. "I want you to have everything, I-"

You silenced him by taking in a shaky breath and slowly leaning down to rest against his chest again. His arms cradled you close, and he rubbed your side gently, breaths evening out.

"I do," you murmured, and he lowered his lips to the top of your head. The candle was burning low, melting into the brass dish, and you closed your eyes. Night was mercifully here, and this day was nearly ended.

He whispered it as you were drifting off, the warmth of his body holding you amidst the chill the day had left. "I do too."

[ghouldnight]

your könig body headcanons. please and thank you. lemme see what’s going on under there

You got it!

As always, my König is probably going to vary significantly from the popular fandom one (refer to @ghouldtime for my regular ones on him) but that's cause I love writing him as just a guy!

First and foremost, I think he's about 6'6" (at most 6'7"). The 6'10" is absolutely RIDICULOUS. He wouldn't be able to fit in most military gear (safety issue) or even things like bunks, and I believe that's about the most the Austrian military allows (dependent on branch). Plus, at that size, you get a lot of health issues earlier on typically.

I type him as a mesomorph. He's clearly more trim than an endomorph but also doesn't have a scrawniness to him. He's more like a moose build over a bear. Still strong as fuck, still like a tank, but not as 'thick' per say. Just a bit more spread out

He has plenty of muscles on him, he has to. He's hauling a lot of gear and needs to use his substantial form of his job. His clothes just usually hide those

But that's because he is incredibly active and keeps up his form

He WAS a lanky and scrawnier teen but in his older age, he's filled out

I'm NEVER going to give him very clear cut abs. He has a layer of fat over his muscles - that's just natural! And healthy! And absolutely wonderful it's so perfect

He's a big dude, he needs to eat a lot of calories to keep his weight on and to keep going. He's still very much in shape but he's got muscles under that protective layer

He's prone to losing weight when deployed because a lot of the time, what they're served and the times between meals don't cover it. It's why he might gain some extra pounds when he's at home, but that's still healthy and normal. Hey, he deserves it after the workout he puts in

Also stating, he's not some super model. He's just a guy! Like just looked up the leak version of his face model. He's not meant to be this utter stunning Calvin Klein model. And I love him that way and in all that he is

There's nothing more beautiful to me than a guy who is just himself. There's beauty in being human :)

He's a pale guy who burns quite easily. Especially seeing as he's nearly covered head-to-toe most days. Sunscreen is his best friend

He has a smattering of light freckles! They're here and there on his body and there's not really a rhyme or reason, but they're there if you look on places like his forearms and shoulderblades

Like many others who are actively deployed and find themselves in such violent warzones, he's covered in scars of different types. From bullet wounds to knife to burns, his body is a patchwork of them

The most heavily scarred areas are his arms, thighs, and abdomen. Those just naturally take a lot of the flack and he's not exactly focused on being the most graceful out there

He's an insertion specialist (not THAT kind, get your mind out of the gutter. that comes later), he's used as a human battering ram, he's going to be scarred up

There is a prominent scar on his upper lip. That's just from when he was a kid

He was running in the house, like his mom specifically told him not to, and he slipped, ate shit, and bam - new scar

(His mom will still bring it up, as mortified as he is)

His eyes are sunken and always have deep bags underneath them

Sleep evades him even on the best of days and even when most of his face is hidden, you can see the tiredness to them

They're also slightly droopy! They give him a naturally 'sadder' or hound dog look

As for the color, it's a washed out blue-gray like clouds on a winter day or like the first hints of frost in winter

He has dark auburn hair and mostly keeps it in a closer cropped cut. The buzz cut is saved for when he's working, most times anyways, unless he's particularly busy and doesn't want to deal with it

He likes how it looks when it's a bit grown out but he's a man of practicality

The carpet does indeed match the drapes - his body hair is dark auburn, if not a bit darker than what's on the top of his head

Speaking of body hair, his follows the acuminate (tapered) shape

He doesn't fully shave. Not his style and just doesn't make sense (plus it makes him itch)

He still keeps the pits and privates neatened up, but not fully shaved. He just goes with 'as long as I can keep it clean and I'm NOT feeling disgusting after sweating all day with it)

And yes, he does have a happy trail (and it is GLORIOUS)

Now for the 'down there' stuff. NSFW under the cut

He's on the upper end of the more 'normal' sized scale Sorry, being big doesn't mean you have a massive salami and 10 inchers HURT (also they're such a massive inconvenience and you're going to be more likely to suffer from things like ED)

He's about 5.1 inches soft, 7.1 inches hard - which does make him indeed above average by a good amount

He still has a nice girth to him and weight too. It's not the thickest or biggest dick ever but I'd describe it as being comfortably large

And like most Europeans, he's uncircumsized

And most importantly, he has a slight upwards curve too when he's hard. Extra nice for hitting all those good spots

And yes, he has a prominent vein running down the center of it that also makes for some nice aesthetic at the very least

The head is a lovely blush pink (and if you point it out and compliment him, his cheeks will redden and match)

The rest is still pale, but has a ruddier shade to it than the rest of him

I can't write anything about balls without laughing like an idiot fyi but yeah, his are realllll nice. Not that he shaves them but they always have a good weight to them and hey, matches the rest of him. Will always feel right in your hands, and they're sensitive too

Really, a lot of him is sensitive to intimacy. He isn't used to touch from others and often isn't fond of it.

Normally when he cums, he's going to be giving quite a load too

He's usually pent up too because he doesn't masturbate a lot. He's usually focused on other things or has more pressing matters to attend to (like trying to sleep or worrying about the best way to paint the stained glass of the church miniature he was working on)

His taste isn't on the worse side of things, he's got a great diet. Its usually thicker in consistency and is creamier than most. Probably one of the better ones to swallow

And we all know, he's got a nice ass. A muscular one, it's not like sheer 'cake' alone but the dude works out and is on the move, it's NICE

He's always a bit self conscious about his looks since he prefers keeping most of himself covered. So compliment him and tell him how pretty he is :) 💚 my beautiful boy

[miniwheat77]

Baby Blue. (Simon Riley.)

!CW! NSFW, fluff, blood, injuries, near death, sorry if I missed any.

Baby Blue is the first color Simon Riley sees when he meets you for the first time. He had walked into Price’s office without knocking, accidentally walking into his first meeting with you, you were joining the base. He didn’t miss the baby blue scrunchy you had wrapped your hair up with.

Baby Blue is the color that stood out the most from the dark man. His icy eyes staring down at you, muttering out an apology about barging in, but a recruit had gotten a little rambunctious and hurt himself so he needed his Captain right that second. While Price went off to handle it, he introduced himself to you. The first thing he noticed about you is how pretty you were, and sweet too. You stuck your hand out for him to shake, and you had a firm grip. You knew you were in trouble from that very moment.

Baby Blue is the color he remembers most about you, when you stumbled into the hallway, running right into him. You rubbed your tired eyes, complaining about a nightmare. Your silk pajama set was baby blue, a stunning color that complimented the tone of your skin. He was in trouble. “Cmon, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” He sighs, leading you into your room. Keeping you company until your breaths evened out, but you had a tight grasp on his sweatshirt. He was stuck.

Baby Blue is the color that made him realize he had to keep you safe. His hands were soaked with blood, the baby blue undershirt you had under your long sleeve shirt and vest, turning a sick shade of red as your blood seeped into it, through the bullet hole in your side. He was trying not to panic but the thought of losing you ate him up inside. He had to keep you safe, away from all of this. He couldn’t do this. He had to tell you how he felt before something happened. Lifting you up off of the ground and running with you, dodging gunfire and getting you to safety. “Stay with me darling- please stay with me.” He pants, setting you down. Tearing his shirt into pieces and wrapping your wound with it.

Baby Blue is the color of that hospital gown you were covered with. When you’d woken up days later in the hospital and Simon was right there at your side, hadn’t missed a day. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked tired. You smiled at him. It was weak and lazy, but to Simon? You’d never looked more beautiful. He was quick to move to your side. Right then and there is where he confessed his feelings for you. Told you every ounce of pain you’d caused him by being unconscious, near death. You shared more things about each other, and you told Simon you liked him just as much. If not more. His hands shook, and you took them into your own. Holding onto him. “Here.” You smile. Tugging the blue scrunchy out of your knotted hair. You pushed it onto his wrist. “So you’ll always have a piece of me with you, but be careful. That’s my favorite.” You smiled.

Baby Blue was the color of his bow tie, and the ribbons sat in your hair. The entire task force and Laswell sat in the front row as you said ‘I do.’ Simon tilting you to kiss you. Being extra. He was so nervous that morning getting ready alongside Johnny, who stood next to him as his best man. He reassured him the entire time, and Simon messed with the scrunchy that sat on his wrist more than ever.

Baby Blue is the little hat and sock set that your Captain had gotten you as a gift that adorned your newborn son. Along with a set of mittens Laswell had thought of, nobody wanted the little guy to scratch himself. You had your baby in your arms, Simon played with the scrunchy nervously, he was a dad now. He had to be someone his son could look up to. And if theres one thing he wants his son to understand, is how much he loves his mum. And how much he adores that goddamned blue crunchy that started the mess in the first place.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hi friend! I love your writing!! Could you do a headcannon/blurb for Ghost and Price (not poly) with a reader who has trouble opening up emotionally? When they do open up they feel like a burden and feel like they have to “earn back their love” through facts of service? Just angsty fluff :)

Oof I can kinda relate lmaooo

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s pretty closed off at first, and he’s quite aware of it, so he won’t push you or force you into opening up if you’re not ready

You’re both waiting for the other to make a move because you’re too nervous to make the first move yourself, so he steps out of his comfort zone and decides to make the first move

You two are laying in bed, watching videos on your phone when he starts talking about his family. (His timing is a little awkward with these things) His heart is beating so hard and fast in his chest, he feels like he’s about to throw up. You’ve shut off your phone and you’re hanging off of every word, tears prickling your eyes, chewing over his words as you contemplate sharing your own

He bit the bullet and so can you. So you do. You share some of the things that have been weighing in your heart, thoughts that have been plaguing your mind, but before you share too much, you bite your tongue and put a tourniquet on your heart before you overstepped your (imagined) boundaries

He was so relieved you saw fit to open up to him that he drifted to sleep for the first time in ages, and it was a peaceful sleep. Morning came and he was woken up by the smell of coffee and breakfast, he groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and rolled out of bed

“What’s all this?” He asked walking past you and kissing the top of your head as he grabbed the cup of tea you made for him,

“I just wanted to thank you for listening last night, I hope I didn’t burden you.”

“Burden? Love, you’re jokin’” He held the cup close to his lips but set it down as soon as you said that,

“Well, you’ve got your own stuff to deal with and I’m just adding to it and I feel bad.” You said dismissively as you went back to the eggs in the pan,

“Sweetheart, you’re never a burden.”

“I’ve heard that one before.” You chuckled bitterly with a roll of your eyes,

“You callin’ me a liar?” He turned your head to look at him with just a finger under your chin, and those eyes that you loved so much held nothing but the utmost sincerity

“N-no, it’s just,” the words struggled to form, your arguments suddenly moot as they turned over in your head, “I’m sorry.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead,

“Don’t be. I’m here for you. Always.”

John Price:

I’ve said it time and time again, John is a patient man. He’s also known Ghost for years, so a bit of emotional closed off-ness isn’t foreign to him. He’s dealt with it, he knows how to handle it. He also knows that leading by example tends to work best in those cases.

He can see that you’ve been bottling something up, he can practically hear you chewing your lip in an attempt to keep whatever it is inside, he hates seeing the torment in your eyes so he takes initiative, he sees that you’re almost at your breaking point so he pulls you away from your task and sits you down in the living room, he’s holding your hands, deft fingers massaging the tension away

He recalls a time when struggled, when he was falling apart at the seams but felt obligated to keep it together for the sake of his men. It ate away at him until it manifested into poor self-care, almost to a point of causing permanent harm to himself. Until he’d met you and you welcomed him and all his troubles with open arms.

You argued that what you were dealing with was nothing like that, it was insignificant by comparison and you went on and on without realizing that he had succeeded in getting you to open up to him. And then you realized it and gradually managed to reel it back in. You dried your tears and happily returned his kiss.

“I’ll always be here listen, alright?” You nodded and kissed him again

He’d stepped out to smoke until he was cut short by the incredible and enticing smell of your cooking brought him back inside. He walked over to you in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind,

“What’s all this about?”

“Just my way of saying thank you.”

“What for?”

“Well for letting me dump all that on you.”

“Sorry?” Despite pulling away slowly, it felt more like recoiling after being punched in the stomach,

“You’ve got a lot on your shoulders already and here I am adding to it. So I’m just making up for that.” You shrugged, he sighed and put his hands over yours, turning you away from your task at the stove,

“Two things love, one, don’t ever feel the need to thank me for listening, two, nothing you ever do could possibly make you a burden to me. Remember that.”

“But-” a lump formed in your throat and he shook his head, taking the utensils from your hand and gently pushing you to the side. He stepped in front of the stove and leaned over to you to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“No ‘buts’, love. Now, tell me what to do next.”

[r3starttt]

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME | 02

fic M.list | read this or DNI

cw: mentions of masturbation

After the very boring and award familiar dinner you had, without Abby, your whole family reunited at the inside of the house.

You found yourself lying on a large couch as your cousins watches something in the huge tv, almost at full volume. Your mom was talking with your aunt about whatever, they could talk for hours.

Your dad was busy serving everyone something to drink, some small snack and having small talk with everyone making sure they felt comfortable. Paying attention and taking care of everything and everyone but you.

Until everyone suddenly remembered you existed. But you’re way too stubborn to please them so easily, besides you were already feeling your heart in your brain, palpitating loudly enough to make your whole body vibrate. Abby, without being there had caused you such discomfort.

And you weren’t in the mood for anything but sleeping. Yet attention is always welcomed because you adore people noticing you, deep inside you that’s something you crave.

You were took out of your trance by your dads voice right next to your ear, his voice cooed your name, followed by his hands on your shoulders, maybe not the best thing to do after Abby did the same thing just some hours ago. It felt like a ghost, she wasn’t there but you could feel her and see her and hear her everywhere.

“Play something” he asked, patting your shoulders before walking away, next to your mom and aunt sitting next to you on separate couches of course, to not bother you more. “non mi va” you replied, hiding your face on the palm of your hand and crossing your legs more if that was even possible as a desperate attempt to pretend you weren’t there.

“perché non ti va? mhm?” your mom asked, hearing her felt like an insult “perché non mi va” you answered again, feeling your words coming out of your mouth as bullets piercing your own skin. You’ve never experienced such a migraine. “You’re spoiling everyone’s fun”

Her words sank on you, if you could describe it, physically there was something fuzzy in your throat running down your stomach, she was right. So you stood up, walking towards the piano as your family clapped at you, sarcastically.

They made you play the piano.

-

Naturally next day you were exhausted, feeling a headache hangover and overthinking every single time you’ve spoke to Abby. Why was she so present in your mind?

You had nothing planned for today, just stay at home and wait for the day to end. And you really hoped, needed that Abby wasn’t here today.

She kept haunting you, making you feel and think and experience physical and mental pain. That’s the most accurate word, it was discomfort mixed with pain and annoyance. But also empathy because she was probably trying her best and felt the same way about you.

And she was the adult here, the one that should know what to do, where and when put the limits. She should be smarter than you, like all your mom’s students. Otherwise she would be here.

So she probably knew about you and how you were feeling, and as well knew about her and how she was feeling. And it kept bothering you how she was being so childish about this, how she didn’t let you read her mind like others did.

How here brows were always furrowed and her fat lips were naturally pouting, always looking so annoyed and serious and like she was keeping a secret. How she purposely leaned on you to grab some shit from the table every time she ate with you and your parents and how she would disappear all day after that, not making a sound whenever she arrived.

It bothered you how she ran her hands through her hair whenever it wasn’t made in a braid, how her collar looked so tentative whenever you noticed it, how she’d let her underwear everywhere in the bathroom you shared and how she’d be so normal, changing with the door or windows fully open, like you weren’t there.

It bothered you how inviting she looked and how much you craved her, how impossible she seemed to get but how easy she became whenever she’s around you. It bothered you how good it felt to stare.

It bothered you to feel something ache in between your legs and breasts whenever you saw her. And it was extremely hurtful how you could never satiate it.

Before you realized your hand was already over your cunt, making small circles above your clit, teasing yourself by the pure thought of her.

And how could you not when she looked delicious under the sun, lightening her blonde her, and the breeze, warmly making the front stands of her hair gracefully dance over her cheeks, how could you not when the sweat made her usually white blouses stick to her back, when her muscles were always fully displayed.

Three knocks, less than one second each, and the door was already opened.

Your hand moved away as fast as it could, grabbing the first thing it could catch. A book, small, you’ve never seen it before but somehow it was next to your bed. Maybe it was something you grabbed on a sleepy night where you refused to let the day end.

“Hey” “hey” your voices overlapped, she walked inside your room as you were still readjusting yourself on your bed, trying to look natural, trying to hide your chest practically trying to jump out of your body, shifting your eyes to keep them fixated in your book.

She was wearing a white tank top -a black bra under- practically transparent. And some shorts, she was planning on go swimming based on the little you’ve get to know her.

Her arms rested on the old metal footboard, and maybe it was just you but you felt like her eyes could look trough you, like she could perceive how annoying yet desired her presence was for you at this moment. “How come you’re not down with everyone else by the river?”

You, on the other hand, we’re resting on your elbows. Back almost pressed against the mattress and legs bended, knees pointing to the window in front of you and eyes moving quickly side to side on every verse in the book, trying to ignore her body, which unconsciously had you drooling some seconds ago. You hummed, thinking about an answer.

“Not feeling good t’day…have an allergy” Abby’s voice overlapped with you, purposely interrupting your lame excuse “Yeah me too, maybe we have the same one” you furrowed before realizing, confused and conflicted by her words. Why couldn’t she just ignore you?

Why was she always so smart?

“Why don’t you and I go swimming?” your hands positioned the book down, facing the mattress without closing it properly, quickly folding the edge of the sheet you were currently acting to read. Smart movement that she would hopefully notice as a non verbally response to her sudden invitation.

“Right now?” She nodded, pressing her lips together and grabbing you by the arm that wasn’t supporting your body from falling on the bed. “Do we have to go right now?” Abby sighed, annoyed by how childish you were being right now. She did notice, she knew you more than you imagine, but as the older one between you both she tried her best to make things work, and it was painfully annoying that you refused to let her do the job.

“I’ll go get changed, meet you downstairs”

-

Todays hot was bearable, relaxing even. So after fulfill her whim and swim with her you two grew exhausted of it, and probably each other’s presence as well, ending up resting each in a different way.

You, on a lounger and her on the side of the small pool the cottage had on its large garden. The only thing heard was the water running down the fountain, along the pool, and the usual chirp of birds accompanied by the trees moving.

You were falling asleep, the warmth of the sun embracing your body comfortably couldn’t cause less. And since she didn’t make any sound the moment you closed your eyes you obliviously assumed she was in your same situation. Until her voice was hear, asking for your attention by practically screaming your name. “You sleeping?” “I was”

“Listen to this drivel, tell me what y’ think” “No, wait” you quickly responded, still half asleep. As your back cracked gracefully for you, her laugh got to your ears, was she making fun of you? bothering you on purpose?

You stood up, walking towards her. Which she ignored by speaking before you even got close as you intended, to actually hear her and pay attention to whatever she planned on saying.

“For the early Greeks, Heidegger contends, this underlying hiddenness is constitutive of the way beings are, no only in relation to themselves but also in relation to other entities generally. In other words, they do construe hiddenness merely or primarily in terms of entities’ relations to human beings”

You didn’t understand nor hear any word she just mentioned, still stretching your body and sitting next to her as she spoke, placing your legs in the water and making small circles with your feet, completely amused by the way the water looked. You find it relaxing how transparent and brilliant the water looks any time for he day, how it lightens your skin, how it moves.

“Does that make any sense to you? Doesn’t make any sense to me” you shifter your eyes to look at her, her muscled arms flexed to the sides of her body, sighing as she grabbed the sheet with some force, wrinkling it’s corners. “I don’t think it makes any sense to your dad either” “Maybe it did when you wrote it”

You extender your arm to grab the sheet and take a proper look of whatever she wrote, making her put some effort on it as a small revenge of her waking you up. “That’s the kindest thing anybody has said to me in months” you grabbed the sheet, being interrupted by her voice again “kind?” a ‘yep’ brushed her lips, almost too quiet for you to hear.

Before you could read any of it, even glance at the piece of paper your hands contained, she threw herself on the pool, purposely just to get you wet again, and probably to ruin the stupid text that sheet had. Which she failed on achieving since you moved it away the moment you noticed her body rolling to the side.

-

She’d be dancing something in between 9 and 12 minutes based on how much each singed has played so far lasted. Yes, you counted.

Today was the day in the week you went out with your friends, being interrupted by Abby’s presence you ended coming to a small party in town, with her as well. Marzia was there, not letting go of you since you arrived.

Which was extremely annoying considering the fact you weren’t paying attention to her at all by how Abby’s hands were placing on a woman’s ass, non ashamed. They were adults and the place was safe, she, they, could do whatever. And if it wasn’t her then it would probably pass ignored by you. But it didn’t and it’s the most disgusting thing your eyes have seen her do so far.

Marisa’s body felt somehow heavy, and her words were like random letters being pronounced right to your ear, loud and not understandable at all.

Your friends, which where sitting next to you as Marzia was on your lap, were drunk already, making fun of Abby and the woman who had been desperate to feel her touch since Abby became the center of attention to practically everyone present.

You had a cigarette in hand, pressing your free hand on the sides of Marzia’s waist at every move Abby made. Bitting the inside of your lips and cheeks whenever the cig had to leave your mouth or replacing it by some beer.

You’d ended dancing as well when the fifth song appeared. Marzia right next to Abby who seemed unbothered by the two of you eye fucking each other right in front of her. Because as much as you craved Abby, Marzia was there first, and she’d been waiting for you longer than anyone else has waited.

You knew what she craved, and also knew you couldn’t give it to her, but there was no harm in trying your best to cheat both you and her. It’s better to try and fail than do nothing and regret.

You just had to find the courage to reach out and touch, she would say yes.

-

“I just heard from the people in Sirmione, they say they’ve come up with something so, going there today, yeah?” Your mom murmured to you during breakfast. Abby was sitting next to you so she heard as well.

Not in your plans but not something you could refuse to do, it wouldn’t take long, It never did. Marzia would be waiting for you till night, and even if it did took long then she won’t leave, if she’s been holding herself for years already, what’s some minutes more?

“Please, stay silent” your mom said, giving the first bite to her food “Silent as in ‘she has too many opinions’ or silent as in ‘just not telling anybody what amazing thing you’ve dug up’” that was Abby’s voice, vibrating in your ears as how deep and loud she was whenever she spoke to your parents.

-

You were all day outside, with both your mom and Abby. You ended up swimming till night and god how things were so perfect that day you forgot about the plans you've made with Marzia.

You didn't even bother to went and look for her later that night, if she was there she would tell you how immature you are with this, if she wasn't there then this was it.

And to be honest, after actually spending a decent evening with abby you didn't feel like going trough her shit today. Or tomorrow, or in a week until she won't mad at you anymore.

[babygirl-riley]

Hellooo I've been thinking about this one. Reader is concerned about the age gap between them and Ghost, and reader is thinking that if Ghost and them gets older they will be left behind. So reader is secretly wishing that they will die first. But then, they died too young.

You are one of the best writer of angst here so maybe 🥹🥹 only if you are not busy, Thank yooou 😘

Young Love

When making a comment about you dying first, you got your wish but not how you thought it would be

“I’m still learning to love. Just starting to crawl.”

A/N: Anon when I catch you Anon. Anon when I catch you! 🙆🏻‍♀️

Warnings: angst, mentions of cancer, reader fighting cancer, swearing, soft!simon, blood, age gap

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

“Don’ say that.” Simon said almost immediately you could even comment about it.

You were 12 years younger than him. You never dated a man that was older than you, well at least over 10 years older than you. The last couple of months you have been thinking about how he would die before you. From age. Even though you knew of his job and what he does, it seems like age is the factor of him dying.

It bugged you so damn much that you eventually became depressed. You didn’t talk as much when Simon was around, you were more touchy, you silently cried in the bathroom thinking that Simon didn’t hear you. It wasn’t until tonight he asked what was wrong while you were cooking.

You thought about it for a moment before sighing. “I want to die before you.”

That’s what led to here, him giving you a blank stare. “What? It is true, you are older than me. You’ll die before I do.”

Simon shook his head. “Bunny, I could die just from a bullet out in the field. Age won’t get to me before the bullet does.”

You scoffed at him. “I could die from anything Simon. I just want to before you do.”

“And leave me to handle the death,” He questioned having you look away. Simon hated that you even could think he could handle you gone. That it would be ‘easier’ for the both of you. Because of his age? “Lovie stop bringing it up. This conversation is over.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. Why did it make you so angry? Why couldn’t you say that you rather be gone before him? However, you understand why, his whole family died before they were suppose to. “I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I just love you too much to say goodbye one day.”

Simon’s heart skipped, both of you haven’t said it. The three cursed words. He was too afraid to cause if he did then you will disappear. Simon walked to you caressing your cheek. “It’s okay babygirl, let’s just go out yeah? Forget this conversation.”

And it was for months, until you were sick. You wouldn’t eat nothing sounded good, at least that was your thought. It started when Simon was gone for a couple of months, you barely ate, you were losing too much weight, getting hot and cold flashes, sweating extremely. You pushed it off thinking it was just a small sickness passing through.

You didn’t go to the doctors until Simon came back. He walked through the door of the apartment, it was quiet. Which was not normal, not for the time anyway. Besides you would be coming towards him from the sound of his boots. He glared around the room, concern seeping in his chest. “I’m home baby,” He said loudly, still no movement. Simon walked more into the apartment. When he looked down the hallway he saw you. Your legs more into both of your bedroom. “Y/N!” He yelled sprinting to you.

When you woke up you were in a bright room. A beeping next to you waking you up as if it was an alarm. You cleared your throat and looked over to see Simon sleeping in the corner. You sat up for a moment feeling dizzy once more. Simon snapped awake when you moaned, coming to you. He grabbed a bowl that the doctor left and you threw up.

It was like that for hours, doctors drawing blood, throwing up, doing MRIs, sweating. You were tired and Simon noticed the weight loss, the exhaustion from what you were dealing with. “How long have you been sick?” He asked softly rubbing you back.

“I don’t know since you have been gone?”

“And you didn’ leave for the doctors?”

You frowned as you could feel your eyes sting with tears. “I-I-I am sorry.” You whispered not knowing what to say. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

Simon frowned and kissed the top of your head. It wasn’t until 2 days later that he sat feeling numb. The doctor exchanged looks between the both of you. Your heart sank. It ran in the family but you didn’t know that you would have gotten it. You looked over at Simon. He stared at the doctor with no emotion.

“I think chemotherapy will not help from how rapid and aggressive it is,” the doctor sighed as he looked at you. “It is terminal.”

You inhaled deeply as you let out a sob. “There is nothin’? Maybe some therapy in the States?” Simon asked calm in his voice.

You faded away, you didn’t want to hear the options when in fact there wasn’t any. Simon discussed more and more with the doctor as you looked into your lap. The doctor told you to get comfortable since you had a couple of months. Simon was accepted of staying until the day happens.

Price made sure that Simon still had work to do but not enough to not spend the last days with you. You were distant for a while, not wanting Simon to watch your body wither away.

“What is wrong,” Simon snapped it has been a few weeks of you being off. Rude. Snappy. Not wanting his help. “It’s like you don’ want me here!”

You snapped your head. “I don’t! I don’t want you here! Go away!”

Simon stood for a moment biting the inside of his cheek. With that he turned and left. Just for a couple of hours grabbing your favorite snacks and ingredients for your favorite dish. When he got back, he heard you sobbing, he followed your sobbing to the bathroom. When he opened his heart dropped. Blood all over the sink and toilet, your eyes snapped up. “I just scratched my arm and it just started bleeding,” you were panicking. “I don’t know what to do!”

Simon nodded gently grabbing your arm and guiding you to sit on the tub. He gently cleaned it and wrapped it. “The doc said that you will bleed easier and heavy. So we will be aware of it.”

You nodded slowly sniffling. It was silent between you two while he patched you up. “You can’t be here Si.”

Simon looked up at you before sighing. “I need to be here.”

You shook your head. “You are just watching me slowly die Simon. You shouldn’t stay cau…”

“Stop.”

You stopped talking for a moment before caressing his face with your other hand. “Seriously Simon you should go.”

“No I have to stay, I wan’ to spend the last moments with you.” He whispered, you watched as his eyes watered, how thickly he swallowed.

“Okay baby.” You said smiling.

The last day you both didn’t expect, you got more sick and weaker where you couldn’t leave the house. Simon would buy blankets and jackets cause you would get more cold. You watched as he placed a warm bowl of your favorite soup. “Thank you.” You whispered.

Simon nodded, you could tell he was tired. Taking care of you was getting harder, not that he didn’t want to do it. Just hurt more and more to see you go. He hand fed you as he scooped the soup and carefully placed it in your mouth. You both watched the game as you would smile watching him enjoying it. “I love you Simon.”

Simon looked over at you, god you looked tired. Fighting the cancer had you looking weak. His heart sank, he weakly smiled at you, holding back tears. Simon lifted his hand up rubbing his thumb up and down your cheek. “I love you too.”

It was cold, everything was cold. Simon couldn’t feel anything. No emotion, not even the wind. Everyone dressed in their blacks, your parents thanked him for taking care of you. Your father didn’t like Simon, due to his age, however, he showed much respect for him during the last months of your life.

Simon sighed and looked at your casket. He was angry, that was one thing that he did feel. Spiteful. Simon was never Simon again, he went back to being Ghost. Didn’t get too close to anyone. He was angry, you got what you wanted, you left him too soon, and too young. It didn’t matter about the age gap, it didn’t matter who was younger than who. You were taken too young.

Even with how old you you were you still taught him to love, he never could. Simon thought love was a myth, that no one would love a broken man like him. So he stayed away. Until you came, you taught him laugh, smile, care without being afraid of what comes next. Now. Because he loved so much, Simon swore he will never fall in love again, not until he saw his beautiful angel.

[superbattrash]

Do you have any Superbat fic recs? Just kind of stumbled on the ship and am already excited by the notion.

Hiiiii sweetheart! Welcome to the bright and sunny side of superbat shipping ~ *blows dust off my laptop that I haven’t turned on in a month* oh gross, there are actual spiderwebs on it... I'm so sorry, Maggie. Ahem, first of all. Any and all fics by these talented people: @frownyalfred, @superbatdisasterblog, @susiecarter, @sassyresacon1990 (I know I'm forgetting a lot of people but it's been a while okay)

This is just handful of my ultimate favs, if you need more I'm always more than happy to go through my bookmarks!

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (rated M)

It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Condersing Conditions by LeCadavre_1904 (rated E)

Before Bruce and Clark fall into bed for the first time, Bruce has an unusual condition.

Clark is as obliging as always.

don't push me (cause I am close to the edge) by LinguisticJubilee (rated G)

Kara huffs out a breath in frustration. “Every Kryptonian has a heartsong. And they’re beautiful, but when you listen to one on its own it feels like something is missing. It’s like...they have something like this too, right?” She gestures outward impatiently, and Bruce forces himself not to flinch at her casual use of they. “Only they have words written down instead.” 

“Soulmates,” Clark says, his voice strained. 

The word hits Bruce like a bullet through the lung. He keeps his face perfectly relaxed, his heartbeat calm and regular, as he realizes (too late, he's always too late) that he should have expected this all along.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (rated T)

“But Bruce isn’t gay?” Clark points out, and there’s an awkward moment of everyone clearing their throats and avoiding Clark’s eyes until he turns to stare at Bruce. “Are you?”

Bruce blinks for a moment before offering a sheepish smile. “I’m not… not?” he offers, and Clark feels his brain just about short-circuit at the news.

Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

No Church in the Wild by TheResurrectionist (not rated but OUCH ANGST)

"I'll have a contingency plan."

"If you're the first face he sees, you'll need it."

Bruce brings Clark back by himself.

smokin' in the boys' room - by The Ressurectionist (not rated but both blood and dicks, so rated Misha HAPPY) (I cannot tell you how many times I've reread this one GUUUHHH)

Bruce Wayne -- billionaire playboy, owner of, at most, three brain cells -- beaten up at his own charity gala. Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises out of nepotism and dumb luck, whose business wasn’t touched by corruption purely because of incompetence -- Bruce Wayne, airheaded and still generous, still kind, bloody in a stall and trying to hide it. 

His hand clenched on the stall door, crumpling it between his fingers. His eyes weren’t burning yet, but barely. 

“Who did this to you?”

I Would I Might Forget That I Am I by susiecarter (rated T)

Clark Kent woke up, ate breakfast, went to work—the same way he did every day. Ordinary.

Except for the part where Superman hadn't been seen in at least a week and nobody knew why, Lois was acting kind of weird, and Bruce Wayne was insisting that Clark was the only reporter he'd allow to run a feature on the crashed alien ship in the park, since Wayne Enterprises had been granted control of the site. And the way Clark felt every time Wayne looked at him a little too long definitely wasn't helping.

But it was fine. Clark was normal, there was nothing wrong with him, and everything was fine.

Satisfaction Brought It Back by slippin_into_dakrness and SpiritsFlame. (rated G) (This one is my comfort comfort comfort read!!!)

Bruce always thought that Superman's cute shtick of rescuing cats from trees was a bid for publicity—until a confrontation with a magic user leaves him stuck as a cat. He learns how mistaken he was when Superman not only rescues him, but takes him back to a small Metropolis apartment. The opportunity to learn more about the alien can't be ignored, but is Bruce ready for everything he will learn about someone he has only ever regarded with distrust and dislike?

[vani-ash]

AHHH your kimchay post about kim pretending to be poor made me crack up so much!! <3

but can I just make a tiny tiny suggestion: how funny would it be if chay actually knew kim was pretending from the time in the restaurant?

at first chay's mad that kim is "tricking" him so he decides to keep pretending to see how long kim is going to keep the charade up. and kim just... keeps... pretending and like his horrible empty apartment confuses chay so much (maybe cuz he spots kim in a mall one day dressed in like designer clothes, stepping out of his fancy lamborghini so why does kim own an apartment in that horrid neighbourhood?) and in the process of pretending chay realises that kim is nothing like all the rich people he hates and he kind of ends up falling for his stupidly handsome face but like... how... is chay... going to break the news to kim that he's known all along that he's rich???!?

(so kimchay get locked in a mutual deception where neither of them realise the other knows the truth and can't tell each other because they've just gone on too long now. XD)

Original post

I'm glad you liked it anon! 🥰💛 i love the idea of Kim just constantly digging himself deeper unknowingly 😭😭😭

But I want Chay to be oblivious during the dinner but what if when they leave the restaurant Kim's like hey two secs the waiter needed to talk to me i'll be right back and Chay nods and then after a couples minutes decides he needs the bathroom so he goes and then when he comes out of the bathroom he over hears Kim and the waiter talking and the waiter is like 'of course Khun Theerapanyakul' and like bows and stuff and Chay's like (in his head) 'Theerapanyakul??? 🤨 isn't that that super rich family???'

anyway he doesn't say anything right away and they end the date and its all cute and nice and Kim had been perfectly sweet this whole time and hasn't acted like any of the other rich assholes Chay had known so he lets it slide and he's willing to just cut Kim off after the date and ghost him.

So he goes a few days (weeks?) not replying to anything Kim sends him and Kim sends messages like 'I know youre probably working lots, make sure your eating well, miss you ❤️'

and then just as Chay came to terms with not seeing Kim again cause he did really enjoy being with Kim, he sees Kim at one of the high end shopping centers, luxury sports car, decked in high fashion clothing brands and expensive jewelry, Chay even sees that Kim has body guards??? Chay is glad he dogged that bullet he's sure Kim would've eventually turned into a rich asshole and it was just a trick.

But then Chay follows Kim for a little (at a distance. something that's plausible cause it is a giant shopping center) he watches Kim eat at one of the fancy cafes, he's polite to the servers, he even stacks the plates and stuff before leaving. (Chay thinks back to one of their dates where he took Kim to a fast food place and remembers how Kim seemed hesitant to eat it and ordered a small portion, at the time he thought it was cause Kim was broke but now he thinks its cause Kim probably hated the cheap fast food but he still ate it, for Chay.)

Someone accidentally walks into Kim at one point and Chay expects him to get mad and yell like every other rich asshole would, but he doesn't. The day continues like that. He sees Kim buy some make up and one of the shop keepers accidentally spills something on him and once again Chay expects Kim to get annoyed and berate them, but he doesn't.

Chay decides to finally respond to Kim. He watches Kim's face light up as he pulls his phone out and reads Chay's message, and now Chay feels bad about ghosting Kim so he gives an excuse about being sick or something and Kim texts back he'll come over and nurse Chay to health.

(Chay rushes home cause kim wouldnt take no for an answer and then when Kim does arrive in completely different clothes than what he was wearing at the shop and with no jewelry in sight Kim aslo gives Chay a gift that Chay had seen Kim spend about an hour going through the shop deliberating on buying, chay didnt know how much it cost but it was probably expensive but not something he would think was expensive if he hadn't seen the shop kim brought it from. He thinks Kim is even more adorable.)

And then Chay just never figures out how to tell Kim he knows Kim isn't poor. But every time he sees Kim act like it he has to hold in his laughter. The derelict apartment? The clear second hand clothes? Chay thinks how hard kim is trying to keep up this act is both endearing but also kinda frustrating. He regrets going on that rant about hating rich people cause he knows Kim probably feels like if he admits who he is or Chay will hate him, but also the longer Kim keeps it a secret the deeper a hole he thinks he's digging.

Chay knows he's gonna have to be the one to admit he knows but what if Kim gets mad Chay let him struggle to pretend to be poor?

Chay does set up little 'traps' for Kim to expose he's rich but also Kim is kinda oblivious and doesn't realise that what he just did outs him as rich so the game continues for way longer than it should

[waffles-art-writing]

Platonic!Task Force 141 X Medic!FtM!Reader

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Summary: You just wanted a quiet evening to fill out paper work, but you get a surprise visit by the team. They say you’re just like your brother, Price talks to you after you stitch up the boys.

Proofread: Yes when I was half asleep :) - so not really

Pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 x Medic! FtM!Reader

WordCount: IDK

Age Rating: 15+ preferably

Codename: Stitch

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: swearing, light description of injury, normal COD talk, banter, yelling, pissed off reader. Reader is Trans!

Request: YES! Thank you so much!

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You tap your pen on your desk as you read over numerous files, all of them stating similar words to many questions. One of the younger medics is cleaning up the medical wing while you have locked yourself away in your office, shutting the world out as you pinch the bridge of your nose. You drop the pen on the dark oak desk, grabbing the files and storming out of the office, you are reading over a particular file in hand. Written in messy chicken scratch on the patient sheet is ‘Sergeant Mactavish’ and ‘Sergeant Garrick’ . You know them both, well. Too well in fact, yet they don’t know too much about you. You’ve patched them both and the rest of the 141 far too many times for you to count.

Price recruited you for your skills with field medicine, you weren’t always a medic. You were once in communication, but your brother convinced you to become a medic when he showed you some tips and tricks. Which you ate up like a starved animal. You never knew how much this would help further your career in the military, especially after witnessing the tragedy that has left a deep wound in your heart for the rest of your life.

You rip open the curtain that conceals a bed fromt he rest of the medical ward. Your hands clutch the papers in hand, arms crossing over your chest. “What the fuck did you do?” You sneer, your voice low as you eye the two sergeants, Ghost is watching from the side, Price next to him with a small smirk. “Oh hey doc!” Soap cheers, trying to keep you from blowing a fuse. Gaz is sitting there quietly, his hand clutching the side of his arm. “The first patient file I picked up is yours, Mactavish! And you have the heart to include Garrick on this horribly written excuse of a reason as to WHY! You both have either a bullet or knife in your arms!?” You yell, your voice cracking slightly as you growl at them both. Ghost is silently thanking whatever god is out there, that he’s not the one being scolded this time round.

“And YOU!” You spit, pointing at Price and Ghost with the papers, your hold on the flimsy sheets causing them to crumple. “You left them unsupervised?! How idiotic are you guys!?” You slap the papers down on the side table, grabbing some gloves out of their box from the wall. Pulling them on, you're seething. “I’m sorry Stitch… we didn’t mean to actually get hurt…” Gaz quietly mumbles as he looks at you from the other side of the Soap. They are both seated on the edge of the medical bed, Gaz by the foot do the bed, Soap up by the head of the bed.

You grit your teeth as you turn around. You’re slightly shorter than all the men in the room, not by much, but still shorter. Price can see how much like your twin brother you are, the same concern when it comes to caring for the team, the same rage that fuels you when someone has done something idiotic. “It’s fine… No, actually it's not! It’s not fine! You’re both grown men for Christ's sake, you both gotta learn how to stop being children.” You huff out as you stand in front of Gaz, he’s the one that got clipped by the bullet on his bicep. Your touch is soft when you work on cleaning the injury. “Look Lad, we didn’t mean to-” Soap goes quiet when you stare at him out of the corner of your eye. “You have the same look as your brother…” Soap states.

They all knew your brother, he was one of the field medics that helped them in the past on a few missions and especially when they got back. They always went to him for his help, but when the chopper got shot down that he was in, they couldn’t find anyone else they could trust to come on the missions. That is until they found out he had a twin, Price knew of you, he promised to your brother to help you through everything. He was one of the main supporters to help you through your transition, even teaching you how to shave. Which was an experience and half. Many small cuts on your jaw…

“Yeah well, I am his twin after all Mactavish” You huff, gently applying gauze to Gaz’s arm and wrapping it securely in a bandage. “Thank’s” Gaz states quietly, you nod as you change the gloves to a clean pair to start working on Soap. Price is talking to them both, Ghost adding a few things here and there while you just quietly work on stitching up the Scotsman’s arm. You securely stitch up the wound, giving Gaz his knife back after cleaning it. “Now, you two gotta stop doing stupid shit.” You growl as you finish wrapping Soap’s arm. He nods his thanks as he moves his arm around a little, a small wince forming.

“Take pain meds every four hours, on the hour… You don’t want to be chasing the pain like you always do…” you sigh, cleaning up the area. They all nod their thanks, taking the pain meds from you one their way out. Price stops just shy of the door. You turn to look at him, you notice he's staring at you. “Price?” Your voice is quiet, you feel like there's something on your face.

Price walks over, his hand coming up to your jaw. He’s noticed something, definitely. “Be more careful with that razor kid. Don’t wanna slice your neck open next time…” he sighs, his thumb running over the irritated wound on the underside of your jaw. How the hell did he notice that? You don’t have a clue, other than he just knows. “Yeah, I know… one of the rookies slammed open the bathroom door so I got spooked is all…” you chuckles lightly, shrugging as Price just smiles, shaking his head lightly. “You’ve done good kid… your brother would be proud.” He states, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Thanks… He would be happy to know I can still put the boys in their place even as a guy.” You laugh, Price chuckles along with you, he turns to leave. “You know where to find me if you need something, kid, see you at the debrief tomorrow at O-Six-Hundred.” He says over his shoulder, leaving you with a wave. You nod as you turn to walk back to your office, your hand subconsciously coming up to touch the small cut. You’re happy you have Price there for you, the team doesn’t seem to mind at all about your transition, if they even know anything about it that is.

Overall, working for the 141 has its highs and lows, but you still love them even if they drive you up the walls mad.