#@ capital hill GET IT TOGETHER

[mikeluciraphgabe]

10yo me: Wow I can’t wait to vote for president when I’m older!

Me now: what if we just blow up DC

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Warm

Kinktober 2024 - Day 8

Pairing: CACW!Steve Rogers x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Kink: Morning Sex

Word Count: 800+

Summary: You and Steve had a beautiful view and wanted to start the morning together.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, soft sex, love-making, fingering, vaginal fingering, creampie), soft!Steve, lots of fluff

a/n: Here is day 8! I hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

You, Steve, Natasha, and Sam had been on the run from the government for a couple months, hopping from place to place. You all had finally stopped in a small town outside of the capital city in Iceland. You four had rented out cabins for the past two weeks. They were close enough so you all could still check in on each other. You and Steve shared a cabin, you two had been together since the 40s. You had the ability to grow plants, and use them to fight. You were in the ice with Steve, you two had volunteered for the serum together. So that you two would always be together. 

You sat on the front porch of the cabin, wrapped in a warm blanket, and you had a cup of tea in your hands. It was early morning, the sun was coming up and the morning chill was setting in. You heard the door open and Steve came out in a pair of black sweatpants and a dark blue thick knit sweater. He had his own cup of coffee and he slid into the porch swing beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his lap. 

He smiled and kissed your head, “Mornin’, darlin’ girl.” He hummed as he sipped his coffee. 

You hummed softly and leaned into his body warmth, “Mm, so warm.” You smiled and he chuckled softly. You reached up and pinched his bearded chin gently and pulled him down for a kiss. “What’s the plan today?” 

His free arm wrapped around your midsection under the blanket and he slid it under your shirt. He rubbed your skin softly with his thumb. “Not much, Sam’s thinking about going into town to get more provisions, Nat’s gonna go with him, make it a bit faster.” He shrugged and sipped his coffee slowly. 

“So just me and you on the hill?” You asked with a smirk. 

He nodded and sat his coffee mug on the side table and slid his other hand to meet the one that was on your midsection. “Just me and you, and this beautiful view.” He hummed and slid his hands down to slip under your sweatpants. 

You gasped softly as his hands cupped your clothed cunt. “We shouldn’t be doing this now.” You whispered as he slid his hand under your panties. “Sam and Nat could come outside at any moment.” You warned as his thumb rubbed circles against your clit. 

“They’re asleep, I would hear them if they weren’t. Super hearin’, remember?” He said with a cocky smirk moving his fingers to tease your already soaked hole. He slid two thick fingers into your pulsing cunt, making you moan and arch into his hand. He ground his palm against your clit as his fingers curled up inside of you. He pressed the tips of his fingers into your sweet spot, making your thighs shake with the pleasure from just two fingers. He kissed your neck softly and sucked marks into your collarbone. His fingers moved faster in and out of you as he nipped your pulse point teasingly making you arch into his lips. 

“F-fuck, Stevie.” You whined as he continued to curl his fingers up to press against your walls. “Want you, want all of you.” You moaned and moved your hand up to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down for a kiss. He pulled his fingers out of your cunt slowly and he sucked them clean with a loud moan. You bit your lip at the sight and your thighs clenched unconsciously. 

He slipped your sweatpants and your panties down and your thighs spread for him. He shimmed out of his sweatpants just enough to take his cock out. He kissed your neck gently as he lined his throbbing cock to your leaking hole. You slowly slid down on his cock making you moan his name and your walls pulsed around him. He gripped your hips tight in his hands as he moved you slowly back and forth on his cock. You turned your head and nuzzled into his neck, kissing his skin gently. 

You two moved slowly and without rush. It had been a long time since you two could take your time with each other. Being on the run only allowed quick and rushed sex that was fun but you two just wanted to hold each other and feel each other again. He wanted to take it slow, make sure that you knew how much he loved you, that even on the run, it never changed how he felt about you. He brought you to two thigh shaking orgasms before he came deep inside your cunt, filling you up to the brim. He held you close as he wrapped the blanket tighter around you two and nuzzled into your. He kept you warm as you kept him warm. That morning, you felt like maybe, just maybe that things could be normal again.

[love-toxin]

Sightseeing -> Navia

plot: you only came to Fontaine for a vacation, but you may not be leaving without some added baggage.

(cws: yan!navia, gn!darling, implied friends -> forced lovers, navia bein a bit weird & creepy, neediness, mention of drugging, preamble to kidnapping)

wc: 1.4k

At times, you often wished you had been born in this beautiful place. The cool, clear waters of Fontaine lapped at the sands just down the hill from where you stood, the same crystal-blue colour as the cloudless sky that passed overhead. The people and the city were one thing, they were impressive in their own industrious and elegant ways; but the sea was the real reason you came to Fontaine. You couldn't live the rest of your life without getting at least a glimpse of the exotic beauty of such a place. 

The call of your name soon broke you from your reverie however, and you turned your head to spot the golden-haired doll of a woman you had been travelling with thus far. She was kind, and she was a beauty all in her own right, but you tensed at the sight of her hurrying up the hill with her handlers at her sides. Your chin tilted back to face the open waters, and you took in one last deep, cleansing breath of fresh air before you would be set upon by your tour guide and newest friend. 

“There you are!” Navia puffed from the exercise with a smile on her soft, ruby-stained lips. “I worried for you, you know! I was afraid you'd gotten lost. Why did you just wander away, my sweet?”

Those adoring pet names were endearing, of course, if not just the slightest oddity from a woman you didn't know particularly well. But you just offered her a smile and an excuse off the top of your head, not wanting to pain such a lovely, generous soul as she. 

“I just saw a good view and wanted to take it in. My apologies, miss Navia.” 

She shook her head with a huff. “Oh! You and your formalities. I told you, the ‘miss’ isn't needed! You can call me by my name, darling.” She sidled up close to you, her dress clinking with all manner of jewel-studded trinkets as she moved. With a wave of her hand, she sent her handlers further down the hill to ease up and give both of you some space. “Well, let's see this view, then.” 

Overhead, the breeze whistled gently as it flowed through the trees at your backs. You turned your gaze away from Navia and back towards the sea–but you felt hers drift towards you instead, the beautiful view lost on her as she focused her gentle eyes on you instead. 

“...You know, if you ever wanted to live in Fontaine-”

“My home is elsewhere, Navia.” An ill feeling fell over your heart at cutting her off so abruptly, but you knew her enough by now to know that she wouldn't stop once an idea was in her head. She would keep going and going and going until she achieved whatever goal she decided on, and unfortunately for her your permanent residence here was not up for debate. You had family back home, friends, a life; and no matter how much you enjoyed your time with her, that would not supercede the loves and responsibilities you had back home. “I'm sorry.”

She turned her head away, effortlessly concealing the fall of her expression as she finally focused her gaze towards where yours was. With a sigh, she said nothing, just stared out at the ocean's crystalline waters and the smooth stone arches of the aquabus lines, all converging on the magnificent palaces of Fontaine's capital city rising out from the blue. Between the sky and the sea, the city much resembled a pearl cushioned between two halves of a giant, aquamarine oyster shell. 

The two of you stood there for quite awhile, looking out across the rippling sea. Even from up high you could smell the salt from where fresh and seawater mingled together, and the splashes of ocean birds and fish hopping up and out of the water each caught your eye. It was as if every moment you watched something new was unfolding. That was why you loved the sea, and why you were sure Navia was trying so desperately to pull you back towards it. 

“I'm leaving for home tomorrow morning.” From your peripheral, you caught sight of her flinching and whipping her head to stare at you, eyes wide with panic for only as long as it took you to return her gaze–by then she had steeled herself, though she still couldn't contain her tight-lipped frown. “Will you take me to the port? I'd like you to be the last sight I take in before I leave.” You smiled at her, and though the thought of you leaving so soon clearly still disturbed her, she could barely help the giddy twinkle in her eyes at having you show her such a beautiful smile. Just for her. That was how she saw it. 

“When will you be back?” Her voice rang so timidly now, so unlike her usual boldness that it took you aback. But you offered her some meager reasoning of ‘whenever you next had time’ and ‘so long as you had the mora’ and she believed everything she wanted to believe. In her mind, you were sure the best day for you to return would be the soonest you could possibly manage. She agreed albeit sadly, and you nudged her shoulder in a bid to cheer your new friend up. 

“Hey, it's okay. I'll return soon, alright? Maybe you can even come visit me in my home sometime, when things cool down over there. Then I could show you around my own hometown.” Emboldened, perhaps by Navia's own friendliness and candor she'd shown since you'd arrived, you reached out and swept a strand of her golden hair from her eyes. Your hand came to rest just by her cheek–but before you could pull it away, she reached up her own and held yours there, her breath hitched on her parted lips. 

“Promise?” She pleaded, eyes wide and so sweet your heart ached. “You won't leave me?”

“Not forever.” You shook your head, a bit surprised at her eagerness but still not without your comforting smile. “We had too much fun together for me not to come back.” 

You could've sworn she mouthed “Oh, thank Archons,” as she tilted her head back in bliss, only to tilt it back down with an eruption of laughter that–for some reason–left you with a sense of unease at how erratic and played-out it was. But again, her oddities seemed just that to you, and you would once again brush off a warning sign that you would later learn the terrifying consequences of. She squeezed your hand harder, and a soft yelp off your lips was the only reason she let it go though her grip felt like it would never loosen otherwise. 

“Then come! Let's return to Poisson–we must have a celebration in your honour. Snacks and all! We have to send you off the right way, don't you think?” Navia linked arms with you as the moment passed, and before you could get one last look at the view you'd been longing to see for this whole trip, she began dragging you down the hill back towards her handlers, who would then guide the two of you back down the path towards the little, hidden village. 

You were such a sweet, gentle soul, the most tender Navia had ever had the pleasure of meeting. You were more intriguing than the Traveler, more elegant than the Justice; beautiful and glorious in equal measure, more poised than even her own Archon. Yes, it was on par with blasphemy, but it was truth in Navia’s eyes–you were more than all of Teyvat’s most incredible people combined, none of them could even hold a candle to you. And for that, she would ensure you would not slip out of her grasp. She would find a way. 

She had a whole night, a whole banquet, and plenty of trust from you that you would never suspect your friend of anything. Something poured in your drink, a well-timed execution of play-acting to frighten you, and perhaps you would fall into her arms without her even having to lift a finger. 

[cyborg-franky]

Hi OP I hope you’re doing well! ❤️ Can I request some hcs of one piece characters favorite video games?

Man this might seem so biased because I like/hyper fixate on only a handfull of games but lets see... [Yes, most of these are games I am into WOOPS]

Ace - Loves FPS - He plays games like Overwatch, TF2, L4D and Dead by Daylight. - He enjoys shoot first ask questions later type games. - DPS for life. - Borderlands is also a game he likes. - Saints Row, GTA, Duke Nukem. DOOM. Anything along these lines. - Action with a dose of horror element. - Explosions and fire are a huge bonus. Sabo - Sims - but on chaos mode. He loves to play God, and he’s the type of person who would build a pool without a ladder. - He might be against capitalism, but that doesn’t mean he won’t use a few cheat codes and pirate versions so his sims can live out their best lives.

Luffy - Pokemon games. He mostly plays Pokemon GO so he can go out and be social with his brothers and friends. He and Usopp do all the raids together. - Anything easy and brightly colored has his attention.

Nami - Mobile phone game queen. - Literally anything tycoon. - Where you can buy and sell and build. - Is like level 90000000 on every ‘swap something’ or ‘merge’ game. - Plays while making money at her job. Sanji - Dating sims, obviously. - Also, hentai games. - And Animal Crossing. Usopp - Minecraft, Strawdew Valley. Anything that's open and fun. - Also big into Pokemon and plays with Luffy, - He also loves point-and-click adventures like Monkey Island. Zoro - Pokemon sleep. - Streetfighter, TEKKEN, Mortal Kombat. All those sorts of games. - Shinobi games also.

Chopper - Cute, easy games or hardcore doctor simulators. - Animal Crossing. - Nintendogs, cats, anything silly and cute with animals.

Brook - Dating games - Hentai games - Among Us - Really dumb meme-bait games like I Am Toast and Goat Simulator

Franky - Minecraft, Roblox, anything that’s building and making. - Retro games, like Golden Axe, Sonic the Hedgehog, Streets of Rage, Toe Jam, and Earl. - Older platform and side-scrolling games.

Jinbei - Games you can farm and fish on. - Also racing/driving games. - Is a beast on Mario Cart Robin - Fantasy games like Skyrim. - Indie horror like FNAF, SCP, Zoochosis, I have no mouth, and yet I must scream. - All the really intense horrors like Silent Hill, Resident Evil, and Condemned. - Just anything with awful, horrible monsters and lore, and she is all over it and thinks the monsters are cute.

Corazon - Candycrush mom. Kid - GTA, Bulletstorm, the most bloody and violent games you can get your hands on. - Ones that are banned in countries. - Wolfenstein. -  Also partial to the Guitar Hero/Rockstar type games. Killer - Cooking Mama - Guitar Hero/Rockband Marco - He doesn’t game alot, but if he sees an old-school arcade, he’ll go and play things. - House Of The Dead, Packman, Space Invaders, Time Crisis. He often gets dragged to the arcade by Ace.

[sillylittlegirlthoughts]

rekindling | chrismd

Jersey had been your home for the past 28 years. Moving away was long overdue. London seemed like the place to go, the capital. So be it. Boxes were littered all over your flat. Your staring burning holes in the cardboard. Finally standing up and stretching tearing open the first box. You brought it to the kitchen and began to make the place yours. In your bedroom, six hours later the newly placed clock read 19:47. You decided to take it easy putting on mindless television and pouring a generous glass of wine.

A box solely dedicated to knick knacks, little trinkets and a few shoeboxes filled with memories. Placing some little plants around your room along with many a teddies who you refused to let go of. The shoeboxes were all getting pushed under the bed without a question when one flung open and the contents spilled out.

It was your earliest memory box.

You found yourself neglecting the remainders of your packing and your sole focus being on the spilled shoe box. A ticket to Harry Potter and the half-blood prince. A movie you went to see with your closest childhood friends. Friends you hadn’t heard from in a while. Some photos. You remember going to print yourself. You, Chris and Arthur all squished together. Faces bright red after spending all afternoon in a trampoline park. Another one, taken with your childhood dog. The last one was just you and Chris hugging eachother after you blew out your candles on your 13th birthday cake.

You missed them. You weren’t going to lie. Nothing you could do about it. Life happens. Although. You couldn’t take your mind off the two boys. The boys you loved so dearly. An Instagram search wouldn’t hurt, right?

You knew both of them pursued YouTube and yes in the early days you kept ho to date with them. However, it seemed they had gotten incredibly big. You smiled, you couldn’t not. You were so proud of them both. They looked well and seemed to be happy where they are. You thought about following them. You thought how crazy is that thought. Then you did it. Following them both. They had thousands of followers anyway, they wouldn’t realise.

chris & arthurs pov

You didn’t pick a great time to do that, considering they were sitting together, amongst two other friends— Arthur Hill and George Clarke. Chris jumped, seeing the notification. “Y/n y/l/n?” He spoke, ArthurTV’s eyes instantly widening. He wondering why Chris mentioned her so abruptly. “What?” His voice was slightly high pitched. The other two guys sort of just glanced at one another each feeling a Deja vu feeling to your name. They watched as they scrambled instantly looking at your account.

“It’s her, mate.”

Chris noticed the confused look on his friends faces. “Y/n— she was me and Arthur’s best friend. We haven’t heard from her in forever.” George nodded, “So, are you gonna contact her?”ArthurTV flinched, startled by the idea of rekindling. He didn’t know if childhood friends could become friends again considering so many aspects of their lives had changed since then.

“Uh, I don’t know if that’s the greatest idea.” Arthur (tv) mummered and Chris gave him a glare. Chris’ head was already thinking of how great this reconnection could be. How much their other friends would just adore her. “Why not? She followed us. We followed her. We can’t just do that and move on,” Chris sighed. “Right, look. Just say hello. If she doesn’t reply it’s not the end of the world.”

“You message her Chris, you always were closer to her.”

your pov

You had been staring at the chat between you and Chris thinking of anyway to start a conversation, until he sent you one first.

chris: hi y/n, how have you been?

y/n: hi chris, i’ve been good recently got my dream job so i suppose not to bad. how have you been?

chris: you’re a writer? that’s amazing. I’ve been good. YouTube still going strong.

She smiled at that message, after all fo these years he still remembered her passion for writing fantasy novels.

a few weeks later

Chris and Arthur had made plans with Y/n, to see her again and catch up on everything they had missed. Unfortunately, Arthur has been working like crazy at the moment and Chris can’t bare to know that Y/n is in London and he is not visiting her. Therefore, it was just Chris and Y/n.

Chris embraced her in a tight hug, his arms going around her waist holding her as tight as ever. Her arms went around his neck smiling into his hoodie. They sat down at their seats at the café. “I couldn’t believe it when you followed me. I must’ve checked ten times to make sure it was definitely you.” Chris chuckled turning towards the girl who had grown to be even more beautiful than he remembered. “Yeah well, when I was moving I was putting my memory boxes away,” Chris hummed remembering how you’d gather any physical memory of occasions. “One spilled open and it was just filled with memories of the three of us. I couldn’t help but try and find you guys. Which wasn’t too hard.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. We were both extremely happy. Quite ironic actually, we were just talking about you the other day.” He spoke softly, Y/n humming along as she admired him. He had let his hair form naturally his curls forming. He had grown a beard. The first time he ever had facial hair. It was long but it suited him.

Chris later got home, the smile never fading from his lips. Once he arrived through the door he found everyone sitting on the sofa. “You’re home earlier than expected.” ArthurTV mummered. “As are you. Are you not meant to be shooting?” Chris questioned his friend who sighed and explained how the video ended up being significantly shorter than anticipated. “Someone looks giddy,” George Clarke teased, laughing as he saw his friends face. Completely lost in his thoughts about Y/n. “He’s fancied her since they were 12. Im not suprised it’s rekindled.”

Chris retorted some rude joke towards his three mates who continued teasing him profusely.

He may have left out the part when they kissed.

authors note!

hey sorry for the delay on this one and it is much shorter than i would’ve like but i didn’t want to delay putting it out any longer than i already have. i love the idea of two people rekindling so here you go.

[undercoveravenger]

In Your Arms

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Male Reader

Requested: Yes

Request(s): “I heard you wanted HungerGames and came running 🏃‍♀️ Alright so it’s after the book series and Finnick and reader are finally living the life they want and obviously Finnick is alive and well because fuck that he deserved so much better. Finnick isn’t on his capital diet and he has a little fat on his body and reader loves it and always touches it but Finnick gets insecure because he thinks reader hates it.” + “Can I request a finnick x male reader with angst and comfort where they comfort each other after the quarter quell?” 

A/N: Combining these two requests since they seemed like they could fit together well

—--

For the first time since the revolution, Finnick wakes up alone. He is cold - the damp sand at his back has long since lost its warmth - and freezing water laps at his legs as he jolts upright. His first instinct is that he’s back in the Arena - that something, someone, is coming after him. He scrambles to his feet, sand sucking his feet down in a way that feels claustrophobic rather than the way it normally grounds him and the cold rain plasters his hair to his face.

Thunder booms in the distance, the sound echoing the canons that haunt his nightmares and sending him further into his panic. He’s jerky, out of practice in a way that he can normally take comfort in but now only serves to make him feel all the more on edge. He could see shadows flickering in his peripherals, tree branches and whispering grasses coalescing into hunters, other tributes just out of sight and beyond his perception though just close enough for him to feel like a fish being hunted by a heron.

As he struggles to regain his balance he realizes that he is alone, the indent you had left in the sand beside him long abandoned. His heart stops in his chest, feeling suddenly like he’s had the air kicked out of him - if you were gone, did that mean you were…? No. No, you couldn’t be. If you were dead-

“Finn?” Your voice snaps Finnick out of his spiral almost instantly and he whirls to face you, a massive smile breaking across his lips as he stumbles up the beach toward you. 

“Where were you?” He gasps, tucking his head into your shoulder as he throws himself into your arms, unable to even pretend to care as he knocks whatever you’d been carrying out of your grasp.

His nerves start to settle as you clutch him close to your chest, arms curled tight around him. “I’m sorry,” the words rush out of you quickly as you realize what he must’ve been thinking, “I’m sorry Finnick. I woke up and it looked like you were cold so I went to get blankets from the cabin. I meant to be back before you woke up and then it started raining and it took me longer to get back-” You trailed off as you took in his state, pulling back just far enough to look at him, “God, you’re freezing. C’mon, Finn, let’s get you home and warmed up before you get sick. I’ll come back for the blankets later, when it’s not raining.”

Finnick allows himself to be tugged along after you, stumbling over the slight hills in the sand as he follows you back to your shared cabin at the other end of the cove. He’s still a little out of it as the front door swings shut behind the two of you, but he has enough presence of mind to toe off his shoes and follow you into your bedroom. 

“C’mon love,” you say, digging through his dresser to find him some dry pajamas. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

He blanches at that, suddenly far too aware of the way he’d changed since the Games. His wet clothes clung to him, sticky with water and plastered to the soft stomach and curves that’d formed in the years after the Hunger Games had been ended. He knew that you liked knowing he was comfortable and felt safe enough to relax, but he couldn’t help but feel less worthy of the attention, especially with the way he had been treated in the years between his Games and the Quarter Quell. He eventually follows your request, tugging off his soaked shirt and holding it in front of his chest and stomach subconsciously.

You turn back, eyes narrowing as you notice his defensive body language. “You okay, Finn? You seem… tense. Is it still the nightmare?” 

He shakes his head, slowly forcing himself to approach you, dropping his shirt as he gets close. “‘M’okay.”

You step toward him, cupping his face in your hands fondly. “Sweetheart, I’m here for you. You know I love you, right? And whatever you’re dealing with, I’m here to support you.”

Finnick hesitates, but presses into your palms and closes his eyes after a moment. “I don’t feel strong enough for you anymore.” He can feel the way your hands start to shake where he rests against him and he knows that you must be heartbroken to hear what he had been thinking. “I just- I don’t know if I could protect you if something happened and I don't look-” his voice breaks a little as he voices his insecurity.

You interrupt him with a fond eye roll and a tender kiss, “You look like the love of my life,” you murmur quietly, pressing soft kisses across his cheeks and forehead. “And I love that you are safe and don’t need to be fighting ready unless you want to be. I love who you are, Finn, not just how you look and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if that’s what it takes for you to know it.”

Finnick feels like crying - to have gone from being treated as little more than a toy for strangers’ pleasure to being so wholly loved in just a few short years was a little overwhelming to think about, but he knows that he couldn’t be happier if he were anywhere else and he wouldn’t want to be. He is more than happy to be here, safe and loved and willing to carve out a new place for himself in the world with you. He knows that there is nowhere he would rather be than in your arms.

[sibmakesart]

bc 1 (one) person said yes (i know its sooo specific but ) :

my thoughts on Sanji being french and specifically from Lyon cause its the capital of gastronomy (and it would make him automatically less annoying than if he was from paris) SO

he works at Zeff's Bouchon (local restaurant)

he occupies a little half room in the Hill of Croix Rousse and walks all the way to Bellecour to work

he goes to the market every monday morning, his day off

he meets zoro when he gets lost in the Bellecour place trying to go to the docks

sanji tries to explain the way to him

zoro doesnt get it

zeff, seeing an opportunity for sanji to make friends to get rid of sanji for the day, he tells him to walk the guy there

he meets the mugiwara gang on the docks (just the east blue gang my brain is too small for so many characters)

luffy lives with his brothers (theyre in university, hes just vibing)

idk what nami does but shes loaded

usopp owns a bike repair shop

zoro half works a shit job like maintenance or delivery and half works his ass off at the dojo

theyre all friends and spend their enormous free time together like in a 2000s sitcom

they integrate sanji into the group

zoro and sanji kiss on the ferris wheel in early december bc its corny

zoro ends up spending way too much time in Zeff's bouchon for the guys liking

thats it for now

[cristaq]

This is part of my apology tour for all the angsty stuff I’ve written recently. So I give you og pricesoap retired and living a happy life. This is a longer one, close to 1.5k words but I think these two idiots are worth it. Small exerpt below!

Price opens his mouth to say something but a nasty cough stops him. Years of smoking are catching up with his lungs. The pain in his joints caused by the cold starts to become unbearable, so he rubs his hands together. Against his better judgement, Soap grabs Price’s hands and removes their gloves. He rubs both of their hands, blowing hot air over them. He leaves small kisses on Price’s knuckles, as an apology for spoiling him. Price hates feeling old and in need of help, but this time he is in a good mood.

If you dare, dear traveler, to cross the Antonine Wall and head up north towards Scotia’s Highlands, just a couple of miles away from Inverness, you will find a small village that seems undisturbed by the war’s fallout. Twenty years have passed since the end of WW3, yet you can still hear metal screeching in Western Europe, as the French are rebuilding their Eiffel Tower and capital. But here? Peace and serenity dominate the land, enshrouded by its protective mist.

But that doesn’t mean the Highlands are not witnessing an improvement project of their own. Soap opens the door of their cottage and faces the windy weather with a smile. He grew up with this kind of weather afterall. Over his shoulder rests a pretty heavy sack, but the veteran has no issue balancing its weight. It’s much lighter than combat equipment anyways.

He heads towards the open and deserted fields, not thinking about much. There was a time when all he did was worry, plot and think. Not anymore. He whistles though, some random tune. These lands used to be covered with trees until the English thought about making warships out of them, some hundred years ago. What ensued was one of the biggest deforestation projects, leaving Scotland with a bald spot where once the great Caledonian forest used to be. Such a pity.

Soap drops the sack on the ground when he feels satisfied with the integrity of the soil he is walking on. He falls to his knees with a wince and opens his care package. Inside, there are Scots Pine seeds, collected from cones a week ago. He puts on his gardening gloves and digs a small hole in the ground and places some of the seeds inside with care and covers them back with dirt. Then he moves a couple of metres away and repeats the process. It might not look like much, but there are already small saplings bursting out of the ground all over the surrounding hills. All Soap and his husband’s doing.

An hour later, a loud whistle breaks the silence of the place and it makes Soap turn his head from his kneeling position. He smiles towards the man with a boonie hat approaching him and waves. 

“Mind giving me a hand you lazy bawbag?”

Once Price gets close enough he shoves Soap’s shoulder. “You didn’t wake me up!”

“Aye, I didn't want to disturb your afternoon nap. Now, did you come here to help or to just chat?”

Price scoffs and tries to kneel as well, placing his hands on the ground for support. His knees and back complain with a loud pop but he doesn’t say a word. His joints are not what they used to be, but Soap doesn’t make any move to help. He knows Price would throw a tantrum.

Once settled, he puts on his own set of gloves and helps Soap dig the next hole. They keep going at it for some time in silence and whenever they try to cover the exposed seeds, their hands keep touching. A small moment of casual affection, hindered a bit by the gloves that stand in the way of skin contact.

“Sometimes I can’t believe this is actually making a difference. But seeing all these saplings… I am glad we are doing this. For the first time I feel like we are building or creating something rather than destroying,” Price says at some point.

“We’ve built so much more here. The two of us.”

Price opens his mouth to say something but a nasty cough stops him. Years of smoking are catching up with his lungs. The pain in his joints caused by the cold starts to become unbearable, so he rubs his hands together. Against his better judgement, Soap grabs Price’s hands and removes their gloves. He rubs both of their hands, blowing hot air over them. He leaves small kisses on Price’s knuckles, as an apology for spoiling him. Price hates feeling old and in need of help, but this time he is in a good mood.

“Better?”

Price just nods and rests his forehead on his lover’s.

“Let’s head back. We should have dinner anyway.”

Soap tries to rise from the ground and now it’s his turn to show how old age and wounds hold him back. He did fall off a building and almost got blown up to bits after all. Price does his best to get up first and offers a hand to the struggling man. He accepts it.

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yeah, just a sharp pain in my side. I will live.”

Price gently strokes the place and pulls Soap in an embrace. They hold this pose for a while, taking in the scenery over each other’s shoulder.

“Better?” the older man asks. Soap just nods in response.

They head back towards their cottage hand in hand, talking about politics and weather. They still haven’t decided who to vote for in Scotland’s next parliamentary election but at least the government plans on rising military pensions regardless. They speak about the upcoming veteran day and their yearly trip around the world to visit the resting places of their comrade-in-arms. Gaz, Ghost, Roach, Yuri, the Delta Force… They’ve never skipped this tradition. Their sacrifices are the ones that secured this happy future.

Back in the comfort of their home, Price heats up two portions of Haggis, cooked by himself actually. After all these years, he got better than Soap at cooking Scottish dishes. He takes a bite out of both portions, checking to see if the food is too hot. Finally satisfied, he places one of the plates in front of Soap and a kiss on his forehead. He mutters a thank you but the TV has his full attention. Glasgow FC is playing tonight and even though Price never cared much for football he tried his best to pick up some lingo.

He digs into the food right away, but as he brings a full spoon to his mouth he gets startled by a loud scream.

“GOAAAAAAAAL” Soap slams his fists on the table and gets up to do some laps around the kitchen table, as Glasgow’s team scores a point. Price grabs a cloth off the table and throws it at the man.

“Are you fucking mad?! Almost gave me a cardiac!” 

“This means they are qualifying for sure!” He smashes his lips to his husband’s. “Fuck yes! Haha! We will have to start hunting for tickets for their games!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Price loves seeing his Scot like this, all jittery and full of life.

“Smile, old man! After the match you might get to score too.” He winks. “I am feeling good today.”

Price’s tone shifts to a serious one. “When does it fucking end?”

“Well it’s minute 35.”

Price grabs his partners cheeks, squeezing them together. “Don’t get smart with me, muppet! How much time?”

“An hour, give or take!”

In the bedroom after the match, they basically tear each other apart with their mouths, hungry and needy. Soap palms Price’s groin but no matter how hard he tries he can’t seem to get it hard.

“Sorry, it just needs a minute…” Due to his age, Price struggles with erection problems. He learnt to deal with the shame that comes with it, with the help of his patient partner.

“No worries, love. Take all the time you need…”

15 minutes later Price lets out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck’s sake!” He puts some space between them and looks at the ground, cheeks flushed from embarrassment. Soap wastes no time in going to their nightstand and picking up a blue pill, placing it between his teeth.

The older man laughs at the gesture. “I really wish there was no need for that.”

Soap answers with a deep kiss, using his tongue to push the pill inside his husband’s mouth.

“I will bring you some water. Think of something to do while we wait for the pill to do its thing, aye?”

When the Scot returns, a chair has been moved to the middle of the bedroom and Price, buttnaked, taps the backseat with a sly smile.

“Saddle up. Let me take care of you.”

“Like old times?” Soap grins and moves towards the chair, slowly stripping his remaining clothes.

“Are you calling us old?” He downs the glass of water.

“Sorry, I meant ancient times.”

“Someone is a fucking brat today.”

“Learnt from the best!”

They keep the banter going as Price restrains Soap’s wrists behind his back, followed by his legs. Face to face now, he cups his cheeks.

“Everything alright?”

“Mhm… I love you, John.”

“I love you too, John.”

They snicker and seal their declaration of unconditional love with a kiss… for the millionth time.

[leclsrc]

hi audreeey!!! could i get a drabble where charles and reader are on a basic (not "basic" but u get me) dinner date and they're just all capital F Fond... like maybe even pretending theyre married bc they love the other's company sm... I LOVE U

begin again – cl16

Tonight is different. Tonight is special. title from this

auds here... my quasi-apology for being mia-ish. also i am writing a long form fic it's just taking agesss as i'm traveling rn (its nearly done) but know that I LOVE U ALL... like crazy. this is p long for a drabble but i missed writing them a lot! love u guys n i hope i did this adorable prompt justice

He says something in French, pointing at something on the menu. Then he flips the page and points at a bold red image of a bottle, mouthing its name in perfect fluency. Two glasses, he adds. One for the entree, another for dessert.

“Red wine?” You ask, smiling. Charles doesn’t usually order wine.

“Well,” he says, beaming at you and then the waiter, “tonight is special for us.”

You have to wrestle with the grin that fights its way onto your lips, but you admit valiant defeat. “Very special indeed.”

The waiter departs and you recline, mind still racing. It’s only halted by a polite voice from your left—the girl at the table beside yours, asking with meek timidity: wedding tomorrow? She has this giddy smile on her face, like it’s her wedding or her dinner; her husband-or-boyfriend across her just smiles sheepishly. Sorry. I’m curious.

“Oh,” you say quietly, humming. “I got promoted.”

“And…” Charles says, lookin at you like you share a lovely little inside joke.

Your lips grow. “And?”

“This lovely girl doesn’t remember, but I proposed to her this time last year.” He gestures to your left hand. A ring, blending in with the others you usually wear, sparkles in the low light of the restaurant.

Proposed. Your eyes stay on him even as he looks away, devoting his attention to the conversation at hand. Then you nod, a few times, soft bobs of your head. “We’re having a June wedding,” you say fondly to the girl at the table adjacent. You love the way she lights up at the mention of it, at the added detail—she asks for more in accented English.

“How did you propose?” She turns to the guy in front of her, who’s smiling dopily. “We’ve been together a year, so he could use some ideas for the future, if you know what I mean.” They both share a laugh.

Charles hums, recalling the plan he’s thought of a million times over. He conjures the images of it, the memories of mapping everything out, perfecting every last minute detail. “I did it at our house. We live in Monaco, in this, ah—this nice, wide place on a hill.” You remember seeing the house for the first time, from Charles’ car. “I did not want a big fuss around it. I knew I wanted it to be just us.”

“Just us,” you murmur along, nodding. You’ve always known it’s what he wanted for both of you. Just you two against the world.

“So I bought her flowers, lit some candles, and we sat on the couch.” He pauses, like the next few moments are so sacred and so lovely that they deserve to be heard by nobody but you two. But if Charles is anything, he’s loud—loud when he talks, yells; loud when he loves. “And I played our favorite song, Harvest Moon,and I sat next to her and just talked, and I said it. I know it doesn’t sound romantic—”

“—but I cried,” you cut in, looking right at him. Cut off, his eyes flit to you, softening when they see your smiling expression. “I cried like a baby. He was… he meant every word he said. And I was lucky, I guess, that he knows me well enough to, you know—know exactly what I want.” The conversation ebbs into quiet a little bit after that, but you catch bits of how adorable and a June wedding from their own talk.

You eat in relative peace afterward—he talks about a funny story involving Carlos and stolen underwear from the gym locker room. You laugh, bubbling up your champagne, and Charles zips through two glasses of his own drink. Tonight is special, and warm, and you’re in France, and wine seems to be synonymous with the country, and everything, if just for now, makes perfect sense.

In between finishing dessert and the bill’s arrival, when the couple beside you have said their goodbyes and congratulations, and the restaurant has begun to quell its general noise, he takes your idle hand on the table. You look up from where you’d been staring at the puddle of tiramisu filling on your plate.

He’s staring. Charles is always aware of how often and how long he stares, extended gazes of your beautiful features. The awareness does not, however, cause the frequency to wane in the slightest. He still finds himself constantly enthralled by you. And even when he’s away, in a car going a million miles a minute, he finds you in his daydreams. That smile. 

Nothing, he says with a quaint smile. I love you.

The bill comes and he, of course, covers it—before you even get the chance to slide your card onto the table. You fuss over it. He stares at you like you’re worth everything and more and goes, with a little laugh, I just need a kiss.

His car is parked outside, valet this time, but the cobblestone is so inviting and quiet that he pays an extra few euros to let you both walk around first. You’re not the only couple along the Seine—in fact, you’re one of many, but your shared, hushed laughs make you both feel like you’re by yourselves. Charles knows all the detours, can pinpoint buildings from different vantage points, takes you on a voyage of Paris all his own. You will look back on this one day and think—your maps of cities, your maps of places, they’ve all been charted by him. 

He keeps insisting tonight should be special, like he’s trying to convince you. But you know just as well how special tonight is, how different it is from all the nights previous. You’re just quiet, you suppose, because you’d prefer to bask in this specialty, in Charles. You’re quiet because if you open your mouth for more than ten seconds, you’re going to spill your entire self out to the city. Tomorrow night will not be tonight, just as yesterday night was not tonight. This is just tonight. 

You’re guided through the cobblestone streets, arm around your waist. You’re so overcome with love you feel like hugging him, just now, just here in the middle of the street, breathe him in and sigh out little I love yous until somebody has to pass through, grunting about how PDA has gone too far.

“You know how…” he starts, and every time he starts a sentence that way, it’s almost always followed by something fairly nonsensical. You know how turtles can fly? You know how Van Gogh was in an affair with Mona Lisa? You know how the latest episode of The Kardashians had Kim and Kourtney fighting? You smile, laughing already, gesturing for him to proceed. “How we see the stars nearly every night?”

You hum.

“So sometimes, we forget they’re pretty. We think, oh, bah, stars. And then a few weeks, or months, later, we look up on a random evening and we’re shocked again. We go, wow, stars. They are beautiful.” He clutches at his heart to convey the emotion he’s describing.

“Yeah, what about?” You ask amusedly, turning slightly to him. 

“That is how I feel when I see you. Every time. That feeling when you see the stars after weeks.”

You breathe one, slippery inhale and then it leaves you shaky, wet, trembling. Your eyes tack themselves onto the stars. A chill rolls through you at the knowledge that you remind him of something so confusing, so beautiful, so strange. “I—God. I love you, you know.”

“Did you like my story?” He asks. He maintains his smile, his attitude, his goofiness. His little attempt to make you feel better. Unfortunately, it works every time without fail. You sniffle and roll your eyes, thankful that you haven’t devolved into a sobbing mess.

Then for the first time tonight, he breaks the precarious, near-perfect illusion: “You know, that is how I would really propose to you if I did it. I did give you that ring, remember?”

“I know,” you whisper, trying to fight tears. “I remember.”

“Don’t cry,” he quells softly. You keep freezing to dab at the corners of your eyes. He responds by pulling you into a side street so you don’t block anyone’s walk, allowing you to lean against the lamppost so he towers above you, eyes etched dark, saturated with genuine concern. “Come on, darling.”

“Charles,” you say thinly, and you’ve gone from coherent sentences to weak pleads. 

“Don’t cry.” It’s all he can say, gentle and loving and Charles. “It’s a special night.” It is a special night. It’s the night before your first day at your job across the globe.

It’s your last night in Europe, your last night before you leave, your last night before Charles becomes nothing but an apparition of your past. You’re beginning to realize how foolish this plan was, this wrecked and stupid plan, but God if you didn’t love how real it all felt. It felt like bliss, being a great big pretender.

It was—it should be a month ago now, give or take. You’d gotten the offer, accepted it, told Charles about it, and then you both had to sit with the idea of living across the world from each other. You’d wrestled with plans vis-a-vis your relationship, with timezones and the demand that came with the first year on the job. In the end it was something amicable.

In the end, it ended—but not without one last night together, stretching your dreams and future fantasies to their limit.

Charles will always love you like it’s his last chance to do so. He figures that means letting you fly, letting you pursue things that, if you didn’t, would keep you tethered to the same old things. So even if it rips him apart, and even if all he wants to do is drop everything and dance with you, to the quaint Paris traffic—he remains ever the reassuring one.

He remains, forever, the storyteller, the smiling figure that takes your hand across the table and squeezes once to say he loves you. The loud guy who would’ve, if he could, proposed in your now-sold house, surrounded by candles and music. You wish he could love you longer. You know he always will, in the same way you know the nature of his love will inevitably change when enough time passes.

“Things will change,” you say weakly.

“They will always change.”

“And will you remember me after all of it?”

“I will love you after all of it. I’ve loved you through everything else.” He says, pressing a gentle kiss to your eye. “You know that, right? I’ll just do it from afar this time.”

You swear, if love and hope and being young were ever enough to make things work, you swear—this would’ve worked. But the universe reminds you time and again that they are not.

So, when you kiss Charles for the last time, his eyes are twinkling with Paris moonlight, his lips taste like wine, and you get the special chance to relish in what once was, and what will never be again.

[beaconfeels]

Okay playing off @mirrorthoughts last ask:

Thoughts on Alpha werewolf Stiles and his second in command, werewolf Chris Argent? 😉

I HOPE YOU’RE THINKING SHIPPY THOUGHTS BECAUSE I’M THINKING SHIPPY THOUGHTS! Ahem. *smooths down hair*

I love the way this ask is worded because it makes me feel like I can handwave how this situation came to be and just GET TO THE GOOD STUFF.

When I think Chris and Stiles, I think PINING. Second in command werewolf Chris being OUT OF HIS MIND because twitchy kid Stiles Stilinski turned into young but extremely competent alpha, person Chris trusts most in the world, maybe love of Chris’s LIFE, but he can’t fuck this up because they actually have a stable pack, and Beacon Hills is finally not the murder capital of Northern California, and also Stiles wasn’t even born yet when Chris graduated high school. Fuck his life.

Meanwhile Stiles is over here like, he might be the glue that holds the pack together, but Chris is the glue that holds him together. Chris became his second in the early days, back when Chris was still human. He doesn’t really understand how it happened, but Chris became his rock, that solid energy he rests up against when everything feels like it’s spinning out of control. He trusts him, not just with his life, but with helping him make good decisions for the pack, to have his back, to tell him when he’s off the rails.

Derek and Peter had hammered it into him that having a person as his anchor isn’t a good idea, so Stiles has anchored himself to something else but…Chris is still a big part of what keeps him sane and grounded.

Also, turns out when Chris is happy and healthy he not only has bulging werewolf-fueled muscles, he also has a little extra meat on his bones, and a belly that is just a bit soft around the edges and he looks big and solid, and Stiles is OBSESSED with the way he feels small and protected when Chris wraps him in his arms, even though they’re the same height. He’s pretty sure if he could curl up with Chris and sleep for about eleven years, it would fix him.

Chris knows he and Stiles don’t have a typical Alpha and Right Hand relationship. He’s seen how other packs operate, and it’s definitely more of a business relationship than he and Stiles have. He and Stiles are wrapped up in each other in all the ways. Protecting the pack. Protecting each other. Hugs and neck nuzzles and eating meals where they end up still sitting at the table hours later just talking about anything and everything.

Everything he’s read says it shouldn’t work that way, but every time he tries to put some distance between them and act like he’s “supposed to” around his alpha, things fall apart. It’s bad for Stiles. It’s bad for the pack. So fuck the rules. He and his alpha are what they are, and everyone will just have to deal with it. Including himself. Because fuck his life he’s in love with his alpha.

And Stiles decided ages ago that what he has with Chris is enough. Sure, he really really wants to push Chris up against a wall and kiss him senseless before letting Chris take him to bed, but he can live without it. Chris is partner enough, just as things are.

This might have gone on forever if Peter and Derek hadn’t come back for a visit. They watch the alpha and his second in command like they’re a reality show until suddenly one day Peter can’t take it anymore and says “Jesus Christ, you’re not the typical Alpha and Right Hand because you’re mates, you idiots!”

And…

Oh.

[queenendless]

❄️🎄🎁☃️Merry Making (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader ft Various JJK) ☃️🎁🎄❄️

A/n: I AM SO LATE TO THE PARTY!

Holiday fluff, ships, and so on, ya know the drill.

SO PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE COPY TRANSLATE STEAL OR REPOST MY FANFIC CONTENT. Rather reblog like and follow please and thnx u.

Fuzzy coziness in beige white and cream filled your eyes.

Early light streamed through the curtains.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n~” Satoru's purr was layered with pecks strewn all over your face, bringing a smile to the surface.

The feline man cradled Suguru's head as he gave him the same wakening treatment. “Merry Christmas, Suguru~!”

Said man deeply humming against the crook of your neck had you squirming and giggling, especially as his sweatered arms hugged you close enough to where his grip was too firm to break free from.

“So early,” Suguru grumbled raspily, pulling away from your neck to yawn in his knuckles.

“Better than being late for the day when I embrace my destiny as Saint Nicky~ Imma go get all fancied up for the rascals. I better see you coming right behind me all decked out, hubbie~” Gojo planted one big wet smooch on Geto's lips before giving you the same lovely treatment, pulling a garment bag outta the closet, giving you two a smile and a peace sign before dipping into the adjoining bathroom.

“Sugu?” Your pajama self moved to splay atop your slowly awakening husband.

“Hmm?” He rubbed his eyes, blinking to clear up the murkiness, when the feeling of your lips on his got him to be fully awake.

“Merry Christmas.”

He embraced you, kissing you in kind. “Merry Christmas, love~”

“Tada!” Springing out the bathroom door stood Gojo Claus. Beard, hat, boots and all. “Time to get the sack! Suguru, suit up!” The man warped away.

“Lord I will regret this.” Geto muttered under his breath before lifting you off him so he could get out of bed and pull out his garment bag out of the closet too, heading to the bathroom after giving you a wink. “See you in a bit, honey.”

A few days ago, you celebrated with everyone by throwing a Christmas party at the Tokyo school as it was the one chance you could throw one due to everyone having plans over the holidays.

You even had a Kiritanpo hot pot as the main dish, Christmas version. And a big one at that to fill everybody up.

You hummed as you started up your phone only to see notifications from your group chats. Opening it up, you viewed the photos sent to your phone ever since that night.

One of Haibara beaming brightly as he and a flustered Nanami were lounging on a beach in Malaysia, shades on and a drink in Yu's hands while Kento read off the stack of books he plans to read.

Another one showed Shoko and Utahime in the capital, Kuala Lumpur, with the former kissing the whipped cream off her wife's lips from their shared mug of spicy cocoa along a balcony setting of their lit up resort.

A snapshot of Riko and Misato in a ski lift viewing the snowy hills of a ski resort along the Alps with Yuki, Choso and Kamo skiing together down the slopes below.

More pics kept on piling in.

Miwa and Kokichi taking a sleigh ride through the falling snow, smooching his now beet red face.

Mai and Momo skating across a ginormous ice rink while doing it with such grace.

Todo catching a Takada-chan plushie THE Takada kissed on stage during her live Christmas bash, chucking it to the enormous crowds, hearts and tears in his eyes cause OF COURSE he caught it.

Kusakabe in a tavern drinking with Higurama; one of the many new sorcerers, flushed but at ease.

Yaga and Gakuganji sharing sake together.

Nothing from Mei, but knowing her, she's in a tub filled with cash, with Ui letting her do whatever cause he loves her so … yeah …

And knowing Toji and Shiu, they're probably taking shots while looking out over the balcony of their apartment window and just watching the land being draped in a blanket of snow.

A beaming Nobara and a flushed Maki going through holiday themed boutiques with a shy Fumi and an endearing Saori-chan in tow, so many bags already piling over in their arms.

Rika and Toge doting over a flushing nervous Yuta, spooning him on both sides, lounging in his apartment, with Panda acting as their cuddle couch, snacking on Christmas cookies, egg nog trailing down his conked out face.

Getting lost in holiday feels, you nearly forgot about the other presence in the room but the fuzzy sensations overwhelmed you. Your squeaking giggles were overshadowed by his conniving cackles streaming out as those furry fingers gently tickled you and those smart ass lips kissing your adorable face.

“Letting your guard down makes you vulnerable. It's difficult to resist you, my distracting beautiful wife~” Suguru crooned in your neck, horns on his head and cane in hand as he stopped the tickling to kiss your cheek then easily carried you up in one arm, letting your phone plop onto the sheets. “Now, let's go before Satoru drags us out himself.”

Fairy lights flashed many colors hanging strewn above across the living room ceiling.

A tall traditional tree stood in the corner. Tinsel, ornaments, string lights, and a small start plopped on top decorate the pine.

And Yuji and Junpei awoke to the smell of pancakes being made. Peaking into the kitchen, they spotted Megumi and Tsumiki already having platters full of Christmas tree shaped flapjacks lining up the island. Nanako and Mimiko were prepping up some hot cocoa with marshmallows.

When a sack of presents literally filled up the kitchen like magic.

“Ho ho ho!”

“Santa Claus!” Yuji's chibi self lit up with stars in his eyes at the bearded glasses wearing man poking his head in.

“Santa?” Junpei and Megumi weren't convinced.

The girls giggled, knowing who it was but going along with the cuteness.

A silky raven head with horns on top of his head popped out from the other door, cane in hand. “Yo.”

“K - K - KRAMPUS!?” Yuji turned blue at the alarming sight.

“Geto-sama!” The twins tackled their papa, giddy over his furry onesie look.

The snow began falling that early morning.

As the puppy dog that is Yuji dragged a scolding Megumi outside who didn't want to abandon his cooking duty and let a fire start when a handful of snow was smushed into his now welt forming face.

Yuji's speed was tested by Divine Dog Totality with Megumi riding atop, chasing his salmon boi across the private snowy grounds, as snowballs streaked the air.

A concern Tsumiki tried yelling out her scolding remarks to her brother as she ran out the back patio doors but he was too far off to hear, so her exasperated self plopped down into the snow, getting into the mood to cool down and make a snow angel.

Junpei floundered, his arms and legs jerking as he was doing his best to stay upright even as Tsumiki legit dragged him down with a radiant smile sent his way, going with the flow with a dopey smile on his face.

“SU.GU.RU~!”

“Yeah?”

“Lookie lookie!”

The puffy albino kitty cat and his raven furry mate nuzzled their heels, scurrying out between their legs and through the slide open back doors with cat sized Santa hats on, chasing each others tails.

“Catoru and Cuguru are matching! Say cheese!” Gojo Claus pulled out his phone to take so many pics.

Catoru's chirpy meow and Cuguru's calm meow were all they gave before trotting over to the twins, nuzzling their ankles as they built their snowmen family. Making sure to include a blindfold for one of them and a Gojo Kuja for its snow partner.

“Suguru … THINK FAST!”

Like future father in law, like future son in law.

The side of Geto's face was smothered in snow, giving off a welt mark contrasting Gojo's shit eating smirk.

“Prepare to die … SATORU!”

Choosing to retract his shikigami in preference of handling this matter himself, Megumi rolled across the snowy grounds as he and Yuji's snowball chucking garnered everyone else's attention, especially colliding with Gojo getting his face smushed with powder by a hissing Geto.

A soft rough coughing noise garnered their attention.

All their snowy heads plopped out of their white puffy pile.

Seeing you in that fuzzy velvet robe flowing from the blowing wind, your snug jammies, and velvet slippers as you walked out to admire the falling snow, breathing out to see your breath in a puffy white cloud, fading into purity.

Powder slowly descended from the heavens as you watched, entranced, as you gracefully floated.

“Unless you all want breakfast to get cold, come back inside.”

“Mrs. Claus.” Satoru breathed out in wonder at your tender voice.

“Are we getting our present?” Suguru coyly asked.

Devotion covered your face as you smiled, pressing a hand on your small growing baby bump. “You already have.”

“Oh yeah.” Those two exchanged smirks.

They gently pulled you down to submerge you in their suited powdery embrace, laughing at their gobsmacked expressions as you pulled out some mistletoe from your pockets to hang above your heads.

Lots of kisses between you three.

Yuji snuck in one to Megumi who slunk back in the snow, melting it from how hot he got.

It would be a while until breakfast would be eaten and presents be opened.

But even so …

Christmas had come at last.

[junespriince]

[poll at the bottom if you care about the interactive fic]

The battle was a little tough, with type advantage and all. The spunky Pokemon was fast, and unlike the other Shinx'(…S? What plural for Shinx hello??? My brain says it just ' or es,,, I am LOSING IT), the attitude was different than a Pokemon fighting him to run him away from their territory. It looked to have more fun, using moves just so the battle is longer than needed for a level 5 Shinx, but once Nightwing spotted a chance, he threw the Pokeball he painstakingly made.

Beat that future capitalism Pokeball factories!

Oh, god he is losing it, he's not even from the Pokemon universe, why is he sticking it to the man of a world he ain't going to stay in!? Who cares about the dead artistry of making Pokeballs, or the economy and possible bad business practices in the Pokémon world has, get it together Dic- Nightwing!

The blue-clad hero watched the ball sway left to right, dread filling his stomach as it took its time. He would have to run away from this Pokemon and lose getting another partner until the next area, Garth the Oshawott was panting heavily as it was, slightly paralyzed it would be a big gamble to continue with this outcome.

When he heard the click relief washed over him as he grabbed his new friend just before the sun set.

Nightwing picked up Garth the Oshawott as well, the little otter Pokemon relaxed immediately in the hero's arms, "You did well, bud. Rest up, I'll get us to camp." a soft, tired "Osha." came from the Pokemon as he walked up the hill, Starly's flew away and Bidoofs look at him, cocking their heads like they do. The settles as Nightwing healed his Pokemon, letting them eat the food he prepared as he chewed on the camp's food. Watching the new addition to his team wolf down his meal like the poor little guy was starving with the unique orange coloring reminded him of someone he missed so much, "Since Garth got a nickname... I'll call you Wally, you act just like him." he said, tone a little sad as he thinks about his boyfriend, the Shinx perked up running straight for the hero's lap with a happy look on his face, that cheered him up a bit, "I take you like the name, huh?" petting through the soft fur of his new companion. Akari will be nervous with the Shinx, but that is a future problem.

For now, Nightwing and his friends rest, he has a Pokedex to fill and duties to do as well as find his back home, all he can home is everyone back there was fine without him for the time being.

He misses home.

---

"Get on that Treadmill now West, or I will find a more reliable speedster." the small assassin warned, waving his sword in front of the teen, "Okay, okay, god you bats are pushy," Wally whines as he gets suited up, "Does he have a tracker at least?" Bruce shook his head, "took it out and threw it at me after the fight." the worry seeped through the mask the older man tried to hold, everyone was worried and nobody would blame him for being a worried dad but had to stay strong for the other kids.

Each bat was worried, and so were Dick's friends but they were heroes so they will fix this. Clark handed the teen a comm to stick in his ear, "Okay, so I just run until I find him, shouldn't be that hard... right?" nerves were getting to him, he wished Barry could do this for him, but he couldn't, banned from it by a weird timelord (Sluggy note: It me, honestly,,,, not even bec birdflash I think it hilarious if you can ban a speedster from that damn thing, like "no sir you can't use this for two months, you already made a rip I'm fixing as we speak go to your room.") but he pushes those thoughts away, he is on a mission.

Once the speedster left, Barry turned towards Bruce with a glare, "I can't believe you talked me into this, he better come back I swear B." he poked the bat's chest, "The numbers don't lie, he will come back. Tim boot up the tacker and comm." Tim nods and brings it up to the big league computer.

They can only hope Dick was okay and Wally can find him.

also i hate making comics

[angelloverambles]

Hunger Games au HC's 1/?

PSA: character death, a little nongraphic SA(Simon)

Task Force 141 + Friends

Simon Riley is from District 12, the mining district. He purposely went into his game, wanting the rewards that came with being a victor for his mother and brother. He became known as Ghost in his game, using mud to like face paint to keep the sun from his eyes. Almost seeming to appear out of nowhere, from the shadows. No one warned him what happens to winners in the capital.

Johnny MacTavish is from District 2, the masonry and defense district. Born and raised to get into the games, to win, to impress. He's a showboat by personality, learning exactly how to defeat a target in so many ways. He prefers louder finishes, learning how to make something that will minorly explode with resources lying around. He made it to the final two, he got too cocky. Throwing knife to the temple.

Jonathan Price is a capital citizen. Born into a lap of luxury, watching games even if he knows they are wrong. He tends to find a way to talk to tributes if he can, in the early days it was the zoo but the capital got smarter. John got distracted with the academy until he was given a tribute to train himself.

Kyle Garrick is from District 10, the livestock district. He loves animals and loved raising them even if he knew they weren't anything more than food for people higher than he is. He was selected for his games by a vote rather than the lottery, the Capital thought it was a fun enough idea to do twice after the Quarter Quell. He wasn't voted in because he was disliked, his district thought he was strong. He made it into the top five, betrayed by his teammate, a career, who pushed him from a ledge.

Kate Laswell is from the capital. She didn't hold an interest with the games particularly but how excited it made people. She became a reporter and a talk show host just to be able to interact with the other side of the games. Meeting tributes, feeling for them. Trying to make them look better on screen for sponsors.

Alejandro and Rodolfo are both from District 4, the fishing district. They grew up together. Rudy was picked by Lottery for the game, Alejandro volunteered instead, not wanting to watch his best friend possibly be hurt and killed. He didn't make it far, didn't take the alliance with the other Careers and it costed him. Spear through the chest in his sleep, at least it wasn't painful.

Farah Karim is from District 5, the power and electricity district. She never went into the games. She had to watch friends do so but she never wanted to put her name in the lottery. Smart girl.

Alex Keller is from District 2, the masonry and defense district. He volunteered for his game and fought hard. Killed because he had to, as a status symbol. He was raised to believe it was an honor to be apart of it. He didn't believe that after his win, after losing his leg.

Gary Sanderson is from district 9, Grain. He didn't survive his game. he tried to copy Simon's win by "roaching" out. Keeping his head low. He was almost successful, if it wasn't for a nasty clumsy streak. Sliding down a hill, twisting his ankle and then trying to hide to recover in a tree. That tree held a Tracker Jacker hive he didn't see. He was in the top 10.

Nikolai is from District 6, the transportation district. He only put his name in the hat once and someone got pulled. His goal wasn't to win, but survive for as long as he could. Staying mobile, never hunkering down long enough for the Game makers to stop him. It made for a very long and boring game that year.

Part 2 with more coming soon!

[gardenof--eden]

1. how do u think solangelo gets over their arguments?

2. Do you think Will is just casually affectionate to Nico in public and Nico is blushy or Will saves those affections for private times because Nico may not be comfy with that in public?

3. their fav cuddles positions?!?!

I think Nico takes time to isolate. Let himself calm down and think about what he needs to say, rather than acting on pure emotion. Will is very big on Communication with a capital C, but Nico was never really expected to communicate his thoughts. Time apart, really, just enough time to breath but not enough time to dwell on negative emotion. Then they talk it out

Through their friendship, Will is super casually touchy and Nico freezes every time cause 1. physical contact WHAT 2. CUTEBOY HELP. At the start of their relationship, Will gets nervous so he isn't as touchy cause he doesn't want to come off as "too much" and scare Nico away. Once they're more comfortable + together a for a bit, Will is always touching Nico in some way. Legs across his lap or knees touching while sitting, and arm across his shoulder, hands resting together. Will is more intimately affectionate when they're in more reserved areas, though. Nico loves every bit of it.

WILL IS A LITTLE SPOON. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. Percy: What's your go-to cuddle position? Nico: Knife. Will, from the other room: He's the big spoon! You'd think, for such a tall guy, Will would take up alot of room. But NOPE! He will forever and always end up curled up like a cat. (This is a direct reference to Nico's first impression of Will being a "lanky cat sprawled out in the sun") Nico will never admit it out loud, but he likes to "backpack" on Will.

[kingyoisland]

My Moshang Related headcannons:

- Moshang is Taylor swift coded and no one and I mean no one can tell me otherwise.

- Mobei Jun would like Hoizer and Florence + The Machine

- Shang Qinghua would like Flo Millie and Olivia Rodrigo.

- Mobei Jun did not find Shang Qinghua attractive at first. But his attraction to Shang Qinghua hit him like a truck. Like one day he’s pretending to sleep on his lackies bed. Then he looks over and Shang Qinghua has his hair down, the light of the candle giving his face a warm glow. His eyes trail over the scroll on his desk. He’s so still though and the flame reflects in his eyes something Mobei Jun couldn’t quite understand.

Then he sits up internally the elegant version of like ‘oh gods what the fuck was that. I need to go to fucking bed Now!! What.?!’

And down hill from there this man’s been a simp ever since.

- Shang Qinghua is Deeply Possessive. Like Binghe gets it from his daddy in this case because anyone who has courted Mobei Jun ends up on the kill list. He’s really good at hiding it making it seem like the murders are Mobei Jun’s ideas. I like the thought that Mobei Jun doesn't realize this about Shang Qinghua. Until a little demon child is like ‘yeah the honorable king is handsome.’ And Shang Qinghua looks pissed. Just death stares this fucking kid. Mobei Jun is very happy at this discovery.

- I feel like Shang Qinghua is richer than Mobei Jun. he doesn’t have Mobei Jun’s power and like servants or home. But if we compare human rich to demon rich Shang Qinghua is over Mobei Jun. Shang Qinghua and Mobei Jun have not realized that is the case.

- When Shang Qinghua moves into the Demon Realm full time. He does everything for Mobei Jun. He makes sure Mobei Jun just needs to sign off and battle and do whatever the fuck Mobei Jun wants to do. Shang Qinghua made this spoiled prince when he was in An Ding full time. It’s SO much worst that he now lives with Mobei Jun technically. He Spoils Mobei Jun Rotten!! Only the best food, Clothing, home, bedding, art, wine, and weaponry. Nothing less than Shang Qinghua’s high standards of Quality will be near his king.

- Mobei Jun’s kingdom becomes the most prosperous in all the demon realm. not just because of conquest. But because his people have the highest literacy rates and capitalism. They’re the first kingdom in the demon realm with like Grocery stores.

- After the Airplane extras Mobei Jun makes Shang Qinghua get him ready for the day and then at night helps him get undressed instead of having other servants do it. He does this so that he is sure to see Shang Qinghua every morning and every night. So he knows Shang Qinghua is accounted for every morning and night

It becomes their favorite part in the day despite how much Shang Qinghua complains he doesn’t complain about doing this. Just that he’s scared of fucking up at first. Eventually he does it so often it becomes second nature and he’s not even worried anymore. It’s so domestic and sweet and healing for both of them. Because no matter what Shang Qinghua touches him so gently. And his hands are so warm and at night they’re both tired so it’s the one time either of them are really quiet in each others company.

-It takes them 6 years to get together after the end of the airplane extras. Yes that fucking long they really need to know how to communicate and heal bro.

-I feel like Shang Qinghua doesn’t believe in marriage really. Like interpersonally he’ll congratulate people and like be happy for them. But he’s always said that he was never going to get married or anything close to that. He’ll say ‘I feel like it’s a waste of time for me I’ve never seen a marriage that lasted. What do I know about that.’ And this makes Mobei Jun depressed for a week and when Mobei Jun is depressed it becomes everyone’s fucking problem.

But obviously if Mobei Jun wanted to marry him Shang Qinghua would have a panic attack leave come back and say yes. Then host the Best fucking wedding for Mobei Jun on the fucking planet. It is EXTRAVAGANT!

He’s buy Mobei Jun a wedding ring. I don’t know why but I don’t feel like Bingqiu would get them but I know Shang Qinghua would get ones for him and Mobei Jun.

-I feel like at some point it be funny if they did a wife Swap with Bingqiu. Shang Qinghua gives Binghe a list of names of people who insulted Shen Qingqiu for marrying him and tells Binghe to have fun. Then goes about running the palace.

Meanwhile Mobei Jun just asked Shen Qingqiu to peel an apple for him because Shang Qinghua told him it’s bad to eat the skin. And Shen Qingqiu is having a fucking Aneurism.

[darkeagleruins]

Pay very close attention to the faces at the Kamala Harris rallies.

Because you normally NEVER see their faces.

They are usually hiding behind masks.

These images are how they normally look.

For those reading this that are not yet caught up, antifa works for the Democrats. They are the Marxists soldiers and enforcers.

Paid protestors, shit stirrers and violent anarchists for hire.

They usually come with an optional violence rider in their contract.

GPS data from the summer of love riots has proven totally invaluable and the pattern recognition alone has been mind blowing.

What is most interesting is when we followed them to their vehicles, after protesting/rioting, the vehicles they drove and many times parked a 20 minute Uber/Lift ride away, looked like the Beverly Hills High School student parking. with BMWs, Mercedes, Audis, Range Rovers, Porsches, Corvettes, even Bentleys and Rolls Royces.

Most come from very wealthy families. They are the children and young adults of Hollywood, Silicon Valley and Wall Street elites.

We haven’t seen this many of the rioters (we’ve been tracking for years, many have gotten new devices not realizing if just one photo with meta data, and other proprietary data, gets transferred to the new device, we got you again) together as a group, since the most recent Hamas and Pro-Palestine takeover of colleges and universities.

As a side note, there are also a couple hundred of the same bad actors in the U.S. Capital today.

Between now and the election, their job will be to disrupt the elections. They may even attack rally goers.

Chaos.

Fear.

If they do their job, martial law will be declared before the election.