#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.

[talentforlying]

shit about john constantine that makes me feral to remember:

sent his abusive father checks until the day he died so thomas could keep the house.

a serial killer got so obsessed with him after meeting face-to-face exactly Once that he skipped out on a guest of honor spot at a wholeass serial killer convention just to chase john around.

some of his hair is buried in the garden of eden.

frequently dissociates for up to/over 5 hours at a time.

accidentally summoned a bunch of spirits called the mendw by reading off the ingredients on a packet of muesli.

was trapped for forty fucking years in a pocket reality while only about a month passed in the real world.

is older than both doctor who and bubble wrap.

was friends with some of the foremost magical pioneers in all of london.

descended from lady johanna constantine who both helped and had beef with dream back in the 1700s.

part of a long, weird family history of constantines killing their twin in the womb, except his twin popped in from a parallel universe to fuck with him afterwards.

buried his childhood innocence in a toy house when he was a kid.

got kissed by king arthur.

is, in the current si spurrier run, physically dead and rotting.

[sanctamater]

i know ken's bs was trying to say that liz didn't break the circle and became like booker but actually she became her mother and both of these outcomes are fucking miserable both liz and amelia need to go home and pack up the saviour complex

[leostar-regalius]

(soulforge leo can normally be seen with a lot of blue smoke in contrast to the pink smoke val has due to his own cigs being used more then they used to, being an overlord is more stressful then he expected, he has to keep his muscles relaxed)

[johncon]

Start It Up Again

"Veronica, you look like right shite," Constantine pointed out, blowing a puff of cigarette smoke out the cracked window of their dressing room. "Shut the fuck up, Con," came the haggard reply. Veronica was sprawled on their couch, arm across her eyes, a heeled boot denting the cushion. He cocked his head towards her. "I'm speaking out of concern, not just to be an arse. If you can't play, maybe you shouldn't." "What, and leave you and Gaz out to hang? I don't think so," she scoffed, sitting up with a soft groan. "I'll be fine. You can give me a puff of your ciggie, and Gaz can give me a puff of his joint, and I'll be right as rain." "Who said I'm sharing?!" called Gaz from where he stood by the door into the alley. "C'mon, don't be a cunt," Veronica complained, striding over and grappling with him for his spliff. Constantine watched them squabble for a moment before letting out a laugh. "Right, kids, I'll be heading up to the main, got a few invitees to find," he announced. "Just take a whole cig, Ronnie, it'll steady you." They paused to wave him off before Veronica snatched the joint from Gaz's hand and took a large puff, blowing smoke in his face after. Con grinned as he left their familiarity for the club filling up, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and looking out over the crowd. A few fans came up him, and he obligingly signed the scraps of paper pushed his way with a purple pen and flashed a sign of the horns for a few selfies with them, a charming smile on his lips.

ooc- gonna tag blogs at the end here, but there's going to be like 11 blogs in total participating, so I don't think round robin reblogs will work here. My idea was that in the replies, you can figure out who all you want to write with, and I'll have Con talking in pretty much any/all of the splinters. Occasionally to move the gig along I'll do a longer reblog post like this and tag everyone at the end again, and people can then continue their RPs off of that, or something ^^" any ideas to help this be smoother is also fine with me, if we do want round robin that's fine too, it just might take a hot minute with so many people involved /lh

@morningstarscratch @le4ves-1n-the-w1nd @d3vils-in-th3-d3tails @gl-kyle @annemarie-stark

@redhoodedalleydog @demonprince-luka @john-brendan-knowles @arsonistic-tendencies @ivy-rose-walker

[lichenes]

hey could you write joost dating headcanons pls 💗 love ur work !

Thank you anon!! Enjoy <3 CW: kinda ooc... possesiveness, positive vibes overall, smoking wc: 377

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

Joost is definitely a touchy feely guy. He’s also a smoker which means passing the cig he’s smoking to you, brushing his fingers against your own and revelling in the feeling. “We should quit.” You say jokingly. He hummed with agreement thinking of how many touches he’d miss out on if you both ever did. 

Joost hugs you from behind a lot putting his chin on your head, especially to show others that you’re his. He’s very protective of you both when it comes to others making unwanted physical contact with you - a touchier friend, a dumb guy in the club - and when envy is in play - a jealous ex, a shitty colleague. 

Joost always makes sure you’re comfortable. “Can we go home please?” You asked when the party was getting too much. “‘course lovely.” He quickly bids everyone goodbye and drives you to your apartment or your shared home where you spend the rest of the night watching dumb comedies and laughing your asses off. 

Joost always shows up for you. As absorbed as he is with his music he always makes time for you, a trip to a cinema, a coffee date or just your day off which you spend curled up in his arms talking about nothing in particular. 

Joost thinks about you constantly. “Heyyy.” He said into the phone, stirring the vegetables in the pan. “Hi lovely!” You exclaimed into the other end. “How’s your day going? I’m just making dinner for when you come back.” You smiled. “‘s going okay. Glad you’re having fun!” The joy was evident in his tone, clearly proud of making you happy. The conversation went on for a while, you could really talk to him about anything without feeling bored.

Joost loved sharing his music with you, whether his own or other people’s, he enjoyed looking at you when he showed you something new. “D’you like it?” You nodded. Something you’d hear at a club in Berlin was flowing through your headphones and since it was recommended by him you loved every second of it. “We need to listen to Aggu’s newest song!” He stopped the track mid through and switched the song. “I’m telling you it’s great!”

Ah Joost Klein the man that you are… 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────• masterlist

[heartz4shauna]

my kink is karma.

word count: crickets..

warnings: nat cheats. mentions of lottienat. angst. she/her pronouns used for reader and nat. mentions of sex. swearing. making out. super light smut. probably ooc. not proofread.

don’t like it? don’t read it.

tags: @ludupedia @butterfliesandivy @thankynext

natalie and you are dating! well, were dating.

your whole relationship kinda collapsed when she left the state for nationals. you kept asking to go with her to support her but she refused, telling you how lottie, a girl on her soccer teams parents couldn’t afford it. bullshit. you’ve seen the shit lottie rolls up to school in. prada, chanel, the whole works. they couldn’t afford one extra seat? yeah right.

the whole time natalie was away you tried calling her, calling the hotel she and the team were supposed to be staying at, only for a blatant receptionist to tell you there was no one saying there under the name, as she said it, annalee scatario, whoever that was.

she confessed to you when she came home that she and lottie had, to put it bluntly, fucked. jesus. it was a lot for your poor heart at the time. you two had been intimate before, you thought it was something you did. or maybe didn’t do. “was i not good enough? was she better? was there something else i could’ve done?” you asked pleadingly, your eyes watering. she just looked at you and shook her head, “it’s not that.”

you truly thought you and nat had a connection. true, you felt like that with every little crush you had since you were nine, but, she was your first relationship. your first love. your first what you thought was love.

it was hard for you to get over her, of course, having to see her almost every day in your classes. having to sit beside her in classes, damned with an ‘S’ lastname.

she’d glance at you during class and, the odd time, she’d try to talk to you. “hey, look. i’m sorry for… what i did. are we cool?” you’d just look back at her and tense your jaw, that’ll show her.

you started seeing more of lottie and nat together and it made you boil with anger- no. jealousy. that’s what it was.

your whole life wasn’t great. you grew up in the same trailer park as natalie, and that’s how you got to know each other. your mom wasn’t around all that much, working multiple jobs to support you and your siblings and your dad wasn’t in the picture. she’d listen to you when you had to complain and you’d do the same for her. you cried in each others arms some nights. connection.

but, lottie? what was she to cry about? she had parents, both parents, drowning in money, choking on their wealth. she was pretty and got good grades, she played soccer. everything in her life was perfect, you thought. they should just have each other, the princess and the stable boy.

after the initial shock of the breakup, you started to pick yourself up again. instead of staying focused in class, you’d skip class, just how you always did with nat. you waltzed into the bathroom, backpack on your bag and leaped into one of the stalls, glad to be almost back to your regular self.

you threw yourself onto the toilet with a sigh, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of your backpack that was perched on your knee. you took out a cig and lit it, putting it to your lips.

just as you were about to take a puff, two pairs of shoes stomped into the stall next to you. “god, natalie. why didn’t you tell me you two were serious?” oh my god, it’s lottie. is she.. talking about you? you heard a sigh and a chuckle. okay, that’s natalie. lottie and nat. they’re both talking about you. right next to you.

“lottie,” natalie drawled, “we’re over now. she doesn’t matter,” she chuckled out. rude. lottie sounded as if she was about to cry, “i’m a home wrecker, natalie. oh my god! i wouldn’t have even came into your room if i had have known.”

you couldn’t begin to believe what you were hearing. lottie was.. being kind? to you of all people? wow.

“lottie! we’re not together anymore, yeah? you don’t need to worry about her, i’m sure she’s already fucking someone else,” natalie reassured her, chuckling. what the fuck? already fucking someone else? that’s not very ‘i feel like i can only be myself around you’ of her. not very ‘i only want you’ of her.

you raised the cig to your lips and took a puff, feeling yourself become genuinely interested in what the pair had to say about you.

you could practically hear lottie roll her eyes before she stormed out of the bathroom. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, as well as an earth shaking cough. unfortunately for you, natalie heard it.

“who’s in there?” she called out. you kept your mouth shut, barely breathing. she continued, “if you know who.. we were talking about, don’t tell her. please.” you allowed your voice to go as deep as it could and spoke loudly, “yes! i have no idea who you are talking about! good luck with that though. ha! women, am i right!” natalie chuckled awkwardly, “ha, yeah..”

she left the bathroom and you felt yourself tear up slightly. already fucking someone else. who does she think you are? you wiped your tears and took a deep breath, finishing off your cigarette.

a few weeks after that.. interaction, you noticed lottie and natalie hanging out a lot less than before. they wouldn’t even sit next to each other at lunch. yeah, okay, granted nat did skip lunch every other day to go bum cigarettes from the other goths in school. but, you’d seen them together at lunch often. sitting opposite each other and giggling, it made you sick.

but now, lucky for you, they were hanging out less. which in all honesty made you jump up and down and shoot your fist in the air.

you thought that maybe they broke up? if you’d even call it that. a fuck up? basically, they stopped hanging out and only really talked when they needed to. for example; whilst playing soccer or if they were partners on an assignment.

you noticed lottie becoming a lot more like you knew her before. she was back to that popular pretty rich girl and less like the girl who was trying to defend you in the bathroom. you were fine with it, you never cared for her much. but natalie on the other hand, she was a mess.

i mean, going through two break ups in the same.. what? month? must be rough. you felt bad for her, just a little. even after what she said in the bathroom. maybe it was her way of coping? making jokes of everything. that’s what she normally did anyway. but you knew what she actually felt on the inside.

you both used to walk home together after school, you’d wait for her after practice after you finished study. now, you two stood on opposite side of the street, natalie giving you glances every few steps.

finally getting back home, you knocked on your door, “dipshit! open the door!” dipshit was a common name you used for your siblings. you could hear one of them groan and stumble over to the door, pulling it open, “hello.” “hi,” you greeted, shoving your way into the trailer. natalie took one last look at you before she walked into her home.

natalie had been planning this for days. trying to work it out in her head how she would make it up to you. she regretted, deeply, sleeping with lottie. she did love you, she did, she just got caught up in the moment, apparently. then it all fell apart with lottie and now it was her turn to be sad.

what was her plan exactly? okay. so, it wasn’t clear to her. she knew what she was supposed to do, go knock at your door, apologise and get back together. she knew you would never agree though.

you walked into your cramped bedroom and flung yourself onto your bed with a sigh. homework. you took out your papers from the day, a pen and got to work.

about an hour or so of doing homework, you finally finished and it was already dark outside. you got up from your bed and decided it was time to change it something more comfortable. you threw on a pair of pyjamas pants and a Hello Kitty shirt.

your stomach growled as you exited your bedroom, your sibling was sprawled out on the couch, playing a video game, “hey, we’re gonna head out in a while. tell mom we’re staying at a friends house, cool?” you nodded, walking over to the small kitchen, “don’t drink too much. mom worries for you guys.” they waved you off dismissively, switching through tv channels.

you popped some bread in the toaster and waited for it to toast. you buttered it once it was ready and jumped onto the couch next to your sibling, “anything good on?” you asked them through bites. they shook their head and handed you the remote, “nah. i’m heading out anyway.” so quickly? alright. “oh, okay. have fun,” you said with a shrug as they got up and left.

you searched through the channels on your tv, with nothing interesting. you finished the last bite of your toast and tossed the remote onto the coffee table.

there was a knock on the door, you sighed and got up. “who is it?” you called out, walking over to the door. no reply. you rolled your eyes and swung the door open, it was natalie.

she looked up at you as she fidgeted with her fingers, “hi,” she said quietly. you sucked in a breath, “hi. what do you want?” she cleared her throat, “uh, i wanted to talk to you. about us.” “about what? what about us? there is no us. you know that, you knew that after you and lottie..” you huffed, rubbing the bridge of your nose,

“what happened between you two anyway? you just stopped hanging out all of a sudden, did lottie feel guilty or something?” you asked her, knowing the answer. she shook her head, “it’s.. complicated. can i come in?”

you opened the door for her to enter, albeit reluctantly, “fine.” she gave a small nod and walked in, making a beeline to your bedroom. “nat!” you called out, trying to stop her, “jesus christ,” you sighed in defeat.

you followed her into your bedroom and shut the door behind you. natalie was laying face down on your bed, her head smooshed into your pillows. “natalie,” you gritted out, “get up.” the only response you got from her was a grumbled “why?”

she flipped herself over and stared at you at the door, “yeah, me and lottie aren’t.. talking anymore. she felt guilt after. she didn’t know that we were serious,” she admitted. your eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “what are you talking about? you slept with her because she didn’t know we were serious? you do realise you slept with her, too, don’t you? it wasn’t just her who did something wrong, natalie. you’re so full of shit.”

her expression softened, “i’m sorry. i- i really am. it wasn’t my idea, that’s why i said that. look, if it means anything, i was thinking of you the whole time.” you walked over to the bed and stood in front of were she was laying, “you were thinking of me, really? you didn’t think of anything else? not even.. i dunno, telling her you had a girlfriend?”

“i’m sorry!” she yelled, “i am, believe me, please.” she sat up, looking at you pleadingly. “natalie, i want to believe you, i do,” you took a shaky breath, “but i loved you. and you obviously didn’t care about us. but, now you do, because it’s not just lottie that feels guilty, it’s you, too.”

she stood up, her eyebrows furrowed and you knew what she was thinking. you shook your head, “we’re not doing this again.” “please.” was all she said before she crashed her lips into yours.

your body instantly reacted, a warmth spreading all over. a warmth that you haven’t felt since before she left. “i fucking missed you,” she grumbled, pulling you closer to her. “shut up,” you groaned pushing her back onto your bed. “i knew you missed me,” she said with a smirk, pulling you down onto her.

you moved her hair out of the way of her neck and began kissing down it as her fingers made their way through your hair, “fuckk,” she groaned out, “s’ nice..”

“you’re such a bitch,” you mumbled against her neck, “you know that, right? wouldn’t even be doin’ this if you hadn’t come over.” natalie chuckled at your words, tilting your head to look at her, “had a choice, didn’t you?” “fuck off,” you moaned, going back to kissing her neck.

she pulled your face back to hers and pushed her lips onto yours once again as you straddled her lap. “haven’t done this in a while,” she got out in between kisses. “i wonder why,” you muttered, a grin spreading across your face suddenly. “lay down,” you instructed her, and she did so. she looked up at you with a smirk, “why?” you shook your head as you tried to unbutton her jeans, but failed.

she sat up slightly and helped you taken them off before you threw them to the other side of the room. “where were we?” you questioned, kissing down her stomach lightly which caused her to groan, ‘c’monnn.” “patience, please.”

she threw her head back against your pillows with a sigh. “come on, nat, don’t give in so early,” you joked, squeezing her side gently.

gaining your composure once again, you snaked downwards to her thighs, pressing gentle, wet kisses onto her hot skin. “c’mon, seriously.” she groaned out once again. you looked up at her, feigning innocence, “what?” “stop fuckin’ around maybe?” you hummed thoughtfully at her suggestion, your lips still on her skin, then shook your head.

“nah, i don’t think so,” you answered. you heard a sound of.. rattling from the front door. someone was trying to get in. fuck.

you instantly shot up and looked down at natalie with panicked eyes, “if it’s my mom, she’ll kill us both.” “oh, shit,” she said, looking almost as panicked as you and shoved herself under your covers, covering her lower half.

you got up and left the bedroom to go open the door. it was your sibling, “forgot my keys,” they explained. oh. “oh, yeah, okay,” you opened the door and let them in. they noticed you looked a bit panicked and asked “you okay?” you just nodded, walking back over to your bedroom.

they walked over with you quietly and peeped their head inside, “is that natalie? i didn’t know you two were back together,” they said, punching you in the shoulder playfully. you turned back to them, rolling your eyes, “we’re not.”

natalie nodded to your words, “yeah, we’re not back together. yet.”

[hoodietypinggg]

Shiu kong x reader x Toji Fushiguro

A/N: pffffffff last time i tried writing was like in,,,,,,,, 2019-2020 please go easy on me. Shat this at ass o'clock when i felt particularly very much single, barely proof read HAHA iss v self-indulgent. Probably most likely ooc.

Enjoy

-Fluff-

Imagine feeling the bed dip and covers rustle around you through the haze of sleep, eyeballs rolling around but lids kept shut with the weight of dreams. A light kiss is deposited on you cheek. It's Shiu sliding in for the night after having finished whatever was on his tasks list of the day, bringing icy fingers and the familiar scent of cigs and woody cologne into the little cocoon you've made for yourself.

"Sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you up", he huffs with an audible grin when you let out an airy whine. You jolt at the feeling of his cold hands grip onto you as he moves you gently.

The man maneuvers as quick as possible to set you on his chest, your ear next to his heart and limbs and body comfortably settled to be his personal weighted blanket; your usual sleep setup. The covers are pulled up and over your back once again and one big paw of a hand cups the back of your neck to keep you close. A sigh of relief is felt at the top of your head as Shiu nuzzles into your hair and muscles visibly relaxing under you. Warmth increases under the blanket with the addition of another body on the mattress; for some reason, Shiu runs hot like a furnace but has colder extremities than Jack Frost.

You glance with blurry vision at the alarm by the bedside table, the red digits telling you that it's one of the rare nights where at least one of your boys gets home before the clubs down the street close. A yawn is pulled from you at the slowing rise and fall of Shiu' breath. Legs gently tangle together and you nuzzle closer into the crook where his chin and neck meet.

"Fancy to see you 'round here so 'rly," your voice crows and slurs with sleep still threatening to pull you under.

"Well lucky you, been missing m' pretty baby too much to accept another round of mahjong with the boys," Shiu chuckles. His hand at this point has warmed to a comfortable degree from your combined heat and he slides it down to your back to give you gentle rubs, "now go back to sleep."

Not much was needed to lull you back down, with the rumble of his voice purring out his reply and comforting arm weighting down on you, you were already halfway to dreamland.

.

The second awakening of the night is far less tender, as the last of your trio literally lets himself dogpile onto your sleeping forms. A wall of muscles comes falling down on your back, covering you up so much that anyone would've thought that there was just Shiu and Toji on the bed.

You startle out of your flowers and stars filled dream as the yelp you released gets cut silent from the sudden rush of air out of your lungs. Instincts kick in and you attempt to curl into yourself like an armadillo, only to drive your knee up into Shiu's unfortunate family jewels from your entangled position. The man's painful choke and tightening grip around your waist is enough to inform you of his misery. Contrasting those motions are the rhythmic contraction and release of Toji's abdomen from his silent laughter. His delight is also felt in the light shaking of the entire bed as he affectionately rubs and nuzzles his face against the back of your shoulder and nape.

"You're getting too lax shiu. Sleeping like the dead, wouldn't be able to protect our sweetheart from sneaky rats" Toji snickers, arms slowly tightening the hug he has you trapped in. You faintly feel him grin, imagining the slight stretch of his scar from his pleased expression.

The handler wheezes and lets out a cough at the comment.

"Fu-*cough*-fuck you, holy shit. Would've shot you if I didn't know better, you dick," true to his words, the heartbeat next to your ear is drumming away and shiu has his finger wrapped around the trigger above his head. "Besides, who else could get me passed out like this if not darlin'?"

Toji hums as if in agreement, though not stopping the affection he's been showering you, now adding kisses and nibbles wherever he can reach. They make you lightly giggle from the ticklish feeling. Your airy sounds of happiness fills the otherwise quiet room and the two men simply relish in it. Content of this little piece of heaven bestowed to them in the pits of Hell they call Earth.

"Nobody does it better than sweetheart."

Once finally satiated, Toji quickly removes his t-shirt and changes out of his day pants before slipping his way under the covers too. He pulls you from draping on Shiu to only half lying on your side and slides a hand up your sleep shirt to rest on your stomach. the press of his front to your back cements your spot between the two men and Toji takes the opportunity to litter more kisses on the back of your neck.

"Soft as a bunny and cute as a button, we're keeping you here fer sure," Shiu grunts as he rolls in a bit closer, delivering a peck of his own on your forehead. Toji expresses his agreement with a mean nip to the junction of your shoulder and neck as if marking their property.

"Fuck it, we're sleeping in," you barely hear your partner behind you mumbles, eyes already shut tight.

It's okay, tomorrow's a day off anyways.

[magia-nera]

you can be the boss

── brando de santis x fem!reader

summary: based on “you can be the boss” by lana del rey: “he had a cigarette with his number on it, he gave it over to me, do you want it? I knew it was wrong but i palmed it, i saved it, i waited, i called it”

warning: smoking, implied drinking, brando may be a bit ooc

word count: 1.1k

a/n: this is kinda crappy lol, sorry i’m rusty from the hiatus :,)

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The only word that could possibly ever describe Rome at night would be “majestic”. The city lights twinkled outside of your window, blinking and sending indecipherable messages to the stars that shone above.

The breezy night was just the perfect excuse for a smoke. Rummaging through your bag, you got the pack of cigarettes, opening it to grab the pink lighter that always sat inside, loyally.

You hopped back onto the windowsill, pack in hand, but the cig didn’t have the chance to reach your lips. You noticed black writing on the white paper.

You squinted to try to read the writing in the almost pitch black of your room, illuminated barely by the street lamps a few metres under you, but you didn’t need any light to help you read anyway, you knew already what was written on there.

Yes, it was Brando’s phone number.

Brando, to put it simply, was one of the most popular guys at school, and not for a good reason: he was a bully, arrogant and obnoxious to most, yet somehow he had girls at his feet, swooning over his every action. You were not exactly one of them. Sure, sure, he was attractive, handsome and just exactly your type, but you hated his attitude with a passion.

Usually, he didn’t even so much glance in your direction, not that you cared particularly. You were fine with checking him out from afar, knowing that you probably wouldn’t have been able to stand him during a conversation, or let alone a date.

But today, that same morning at school, something changed, a switch flipped in him, and Brando approached you, on the stairs during midday break, and just handed you a cig.

“I’ve just got done smoking actually,” you tilted your head, looking at him.

“Yeah, I know. But this one’s special. You should keep it for later,” and with that, he just dropped the cigarette in your hand and left.

You rolled it between your fingers, carefully examining it. Black ink stained the white paper, striking in contrast. It was his phone number. Or maybe it was a stupid prank. Even though he didn’t laugh.

“Whatever,” you just shoved it into the cigarette pack and headed back to class.

Was it such a bad idea to call?

Yeah, he was a total piece of shit, but… maybe getting his attention felt nice. Especially considering he actually never really hung out with girls. It made you feel a little special, maybe. Or confused, you told yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll call. It can’t be so bad. I’ll just slap him if he annoys me,” you psyched yourself up while grabbing your phone.

But it sure wasn’t easy. How did you even manage to catch his attention? You had no classes together, you just happened to run into each other sometimes during break, because you both smoked, but so did many others. You were sure he didn’t even register your face, let alone take a liking to it.

“Fuck I’m screwed. I can’t be going this stupid over a boy,” you sighed.

Maybe the desperation gave you courage. Or maybe it was the adrenaline of something unexpected. Or the chills from the crisp night air. Whatever it was that made you type his number into your phone went away the second he picked up.

“Hi, what’s up? Who’s this?”

“Oh, hi. It’s me, (y/n)… you gave me a cigarette today, you know,” the words were fighting with your throat to get out.

“How could I ever forget such a pretty face like yours?” Brando chuckled, “what are you doing now?”

“Nothing, just, chilling at home I guess. Smoking.”

“Wanna hang out?”

What. You froze, immobile like a statue. “Uhm, yeah, sure, okay, where do you wanna-”

“I’m outside your house already.”

What the fuck. How did he even- “Oh, okay, I’m coming down then.”

You didn’t even know where the strength to put on your shoes and jacket was coming from, your legs felt wobbly but somehow they worked enough to descend the flight of stairs that separated you from the cause of your nervousness.

Opening the door, you saw him. His pretty curls and his smug grin, never quite readable but charming as always.

“How did you even get my address?” was the first thing that came out of your mouth. Cringe. Great impression you made there, yeah. You mentally slapped yourself.

“Good evening to you too, miss. I have connections, you know. I asked around,” Brando stepped closer. “Aren’t you the popular girl uh?”

“I’m definitely not though,” you chuckled.

“Mhm. I guess it works out better for me if you don’t know just how many guys like you then,” the complacency in his tone made you blush. You didn’t care about those guys. Was he implying that the had a thing for you?

“Why the cigarette?”

“Was it cool? That was my objective. Other than gettin’ to hang out with you,” he smirked. He was driving you crazy and the worst part of it all was that he probably knew this as well.

“You aren’t gonna try some weird shit like you always do, right?”

“No baby, why would I?” you had your doubts, but oh well, whatever. Common sense left you ever since you decided that calling Brando was a good idea.

“Fine, I guess I’ll believe you.”

You two talked for a while. Brando was unexpectedly a good listener, the conversation was actually very enjoyable. You pretended not to notice how he was inching closer ever so slightly, trying very blatantly to pass it off as natural, and failing too. But it was admittedly cute. Endearing even.

Then the distance between you was almost non existent. Not even half a metre separated you.

And that too was gone when he inched even closer, his nose brushing yours.

“Please?” he whispered.

You gave in and Brando obediently closed the distance that separated your lips. The kiss was warm, almost burning compared to the cold breeze caressing your cheeks. But those too became warm when his big hands cupped your face gently, before moving to your neck, your waist and then roaming all over your body.

You took a moment to register the taste on his lips, a weird mixture of rhum, cigarette smoke and the faintest hint of lip balm. His lips were soft and sweet, addicting, but he was being so rough, the combination sending shivers down your spine, which was pressed against the door firmly.

After a while you pulled back to breathe, watching him through half lidded eyes: his were glazed over, almost as if the kiss made him high.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked.

“Mhm, you’re so pretty. Can I sleep over tonight, princess?”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

is anybody still into baby? i wanna rewatch it already lol

[cascade05]

Sweet Little Sugar ✧ Benny Cross

Warnings: Lots of self-doubt and depreciation from our main girl, not a x reader cause it read better with specifics, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, mentions of abuse but again not too in depth, a couple swearwords lol, not really proofread, kinda long, and maybe an ooc Benny Cross not sure lol

Annalise didn’t have much in life. She didn’t have the looks most men went for, or that’s what her dad told her. Untrendy long brown hair she often kept back in a messy braid rather than the puffy bouffant hairstyles most women her age had. Her dad said she was sloppy. She knew a hairstyle like that would get messed up at work. 

He didn’t like her freckles either. Said the fact she was covered in them made her look unkempt and dirty. He said she was undesirable and nothing like her busty blue-eyed mother. Annalise just liked to think she was average. She didn’t have much in life. Didn’t have a mother no more–only God knows where that woman had run to once Annalise was born. They weren’t too wealthy either; house bit on the simple side, clothes a bit on the worn, out-of-fashion side. Her dad said it was because she was lazy. Annalise liked to think she was doing her best. She didn’t have much in life, like she said. Just had herself, her drunken deadbeat dad, and her best friend who got into far too much trouble. 

A trail of smoke wafted through Annalise’s stuffy old bedroom. She never used to care for the smell, but now she didn’t mind so much. It reminded her of him anyway. Was a bit of a comfort now actually.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, his voice a bit rough from the long silence between them–the disuse. 

He was always good at hiding his pain behind a wall of quiet and a face handsome enough to make a nun swoon, and as hard to read as a dirty secret. But his voice had traces of concealed pain, and Annalise could see the wince he tried to hide when he sat up in her bed.

She coulda scolded him for that; for moving and getting grime on her baby blue comforter, along with cigarette ash. But she didn’t. Instead, she focused on cleaning up the cut on his stomach from whatever altercation it was that he got into. Maybe that was why they got along so good; she and Benny. He was always hurting and she was good at patching people up–lord knows she had plenty of practice with it herself. “I’m telling ya, should see the other guy,” Benny mumbled through his cigarette. His lazy words were met with a disbelieving snort and the press of an alcohol-soaked rag on his stomach. He leaned his head back and took a good long drag of his cigarette. Annalise would’ve said it was to hide the pain, but part of her wondered if he really felt pain or just pretended to. With the amount of times he snuck into her room covered in cuts, bruises, and whatnot she’d assume he didn’t really feel them.

“Well,” she dabbed the wound with care, “if he looks half as bad as you, then I’d say he looks pretty awful,” she mumbled. He chuckled quietly, and Annalise looked up to meet his blue eyes when he did. She looked back down. “What’d you fight about this time? Was it about you wearin’ your colors again?”

That was usually what it was about; Benny refusing to take off his jacket because he was proud to be one of the Vandals, and he was loyal as a dog to Johhny.

Benny chuckled again, dry and rough. She oughta get him some water, she thought, but she continued with his wound for now. He lifted a calloused hand, using it to gently tilt Annalise’s chin so her big green eyes would look at him. “Not this time, sugar,” he assured her.

Benny shrugged lazily at her confused look, dropping his hand and leaning back against the headboard of her bed like it was his. He wouldn’t mind if it was–wanted it to be his too.

“The bastard insulted you,” he said like it was obvious.

“Insulting me?” she echoed quietly. He gave a lazy nod as he took another drag of his cig. Annalise watched, her green eyes falling to his neck, watching his Adam’s apple as he leaned his head back and blew out whisps of smoke. They twirled in the air and Annalise watched them dance as guilt filled her chest down to her fingers.

She never liked when Benny fought, but he fought for the gang–for a family. For something he believed in. She couldn’t tell him to stop–well she could but she’d never expect him to listen. She’d never tell him anyway, because he felt a loyalty to Johnny; to the Vandals; and she wouldn’t try to get in the way of that. Wasn’t her place anyhow. They were friends is all.

But when he fought for her, it was different, because she could say something about it. And she always did because like her father always said, she wasn’t worth it.

Annalise looked away and inhaled slowly before releasing all the air in a huff. She grabbed a roll of dressing and went about wrapping the cut in his abdomen. “Just let ‘em talk…” she whispered. “Ignore ‘em,” she added, knowing Benny wouldn’t be Benny if he ignored something like that.

“Never,” was his scoffing reply because he was Benny. Benny was a bulldog; would chew and tear whatever threatened what was his. 

He was protective by nature and Annalise was at the damn top of what he’d keep respected and safe. Always had been ever since she had stumbled in front of him on the road so long ago; beaten and bloody but so concerned about him when he had crashed after swerving to avoid her. He’d fought for her ever since, and not a thing in the world would keep him from continuing to do it. Not even the sweet girl herself.

Benny watched her as she worked, admiring her focus. He reached out and brushed a loose strand of her hair out of her face. She looked up at him when he did, holding his gaze for a moment before looking back down. 

“Just..” she drifted off and fumbled with the bandaging in her small hands, “don’t want you hurt… cause of me… is all..” she muttered.

Silly girl never seemed to get he’d bleed dead for her, no matter how many times he told her.

Annalise stood from the bed. She grabbed the bowl of dirty, bloody water and walked into her bathroom to freshen it up. Benny watched her go, his gaze tracking her small frame in wonder–always did. She was such a different little thing… never dolled up, never dressed fancy, and yet he’d never seen anyone more beautiful. He took another puff of his cigarette, blue eyes on the half-closed bathroom door.

After a few moments, he put the cig out and stood from the bed, ignoring the sting of his bruises and cuts in favor of following after Annalise. She stood in front of the sink, her gaze on her hands as she repeatedly rinsed and rung out the rag in hopes of getting most of the blood out.

It took a few tries, but soon the water was clear enough. She rinsed out the bowl and began filling it, leaning her head back with a quiet sigh.

Annalise caught her reflection in the mirror and she felt self-consciousness slip its hands onto her shoulders. Look at you, it seemed to say. Look at you… And she did look. 

At her face; the countless freckles couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes. They were years in the making and not so easily erased. Nothing could hide the sleepless nights, and nothing could hide the exhausted results from them.

Her plain brown hair was pulled back as it always was, only it was a bit messy, tousled from sleep. 

And she was wearing a nightgown, a simple light blue thing that was a bit small and a bit worn. The straps were thinning, and the material was threadbare in a few spots.  She could use a new one, but all her money was spent on keeping her and her deadbeat dad afloat.

Look at you, it said again, in all your pathetic, useless glory…

Benny watched her in the mirror. Watched her look herself over. Something was wrong, though he wasn’t sure what. Slowly, he walked closer, stopping only when his bare chest hit her back. He leaned closer, a hand on the counter on either side of her and trapping her in. Benny pressed his nose to the crown of her head, inhaling and taking the sweet scent of her in. It was a gentle, sweet, clean smell, one that had him closing his eyes and relaxing–always. It smelled like her. His Annalise.

“You good, sugar?” he asked into her hair, his voice a quiet rumbled against her back.

Annalise’s response was a small nod. She wiped her face, though there were no tears on it, and turned around to give Benny a small smile. When she smiled, a little dimple always appeared in her left cheek–burned her skin. Imperfection.

The smile was supposed to be reassuring. Was supposed to tell Benny that she was alright. Maybe it didn’t work, but Benny didn’t say anything and Annalise was glad. He just sat on the closed toilet as she directed and she was grateful. Annalise brought the bowl closer and then moved to stand between his legs. She looked down at Benny for once, and gave another small smile–this one more shy and honest than the last–before she tenderly went to work cleaning his face. She could say she was okay, but Benny knew better. Benny kept his steady gaze on her, blue eye tracing the lines of her face like fingers tracing brail–like he needed to read, to know what the lines meant. He could read her fairly well by now, and he knew something was on her mind–probably the same something her worthless father drilled into her pretty little head on the daily. She wouldn’t listen to him when he refuted it, not right now, so Benny kept quiet. 

He moved his hands from his lap to her thighs then up to her hips, his calloused hands catching on the thin fabric of her shift. Benny brought her closer, close enough her knees bumped against the toiled lid. He tilted his head back, allowing her easier access to his face. “How’s it look, doc?” he questioned with a lazy grin, watching his girl through half-lidded eyes. Loaded question, Annalise thought. Benny always looked good, even when he was beat to shit. Something about red on his pretty, scruffy face just made sense. Granted, it was always better when the blood wasn’t his. She looked from the cuts to his blue eyes–they must be sharper than the blade that hurt him. Annalise let out a small huff of amusement and shook her head with a fond smile. “Like you got beat up,” she said soflty, brushing some of his blond hair from his face.

Benny’s lip curved slightly at her response, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. His hands shifted against her hips, moving up to the dip of her waist and then to her back. Those blue eyes of his moved down to Annalise’s hands and he leaned his head forward a small bit. “Nothin’ I ain’t dealt with before, sugar.”

He took her free hand in his–marveling at how small they were, yet how they were clearly working hands. Benny wasn’t sure how Annalise managed to get a job like she had; a sweet little thing like her doing demanding, hard work. He often wondered how she convinced her boss to give her the job. His thumb gently rubbed over her palm, tracing up to her fingers before he moved her hand in his and rubbed along her knuckles. He gave her hand a little squeeze before bringing her hand up and pressing his lips to the back of it, brushing a kiss over the patch of freckles found there.

Annalise watched him. She lowered her eyes when he kissed her hand, as if not seeing the feeling in his eyes would quell the feeling in her heart. “Benny…” she whispered, a soft reprimand she didn’t even mean.

He only guided her forward to straddle his lap. Annalise sighed but let him move her there. Her toes grazed the tiled floor as her legs hung off his thigs. Content, Benny moved her hand back to his lips and kissed her palm before placing it on his chest, above his beating heart.

Annalise’s fingers curled slightly against his warm skin. She shyly looked up at him through her lashes, pinching her lips together when she found he was staring at her. He held her like that for a few beats; his hand over hers while he languidly rubbed up and down her side with his other. She almost couldn’t feel his touch with how distracting his gaze was. He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world because she was. She meant more to him than anything. Sometimes he wondered if she meant more to him than riding with the Vandals did. Sometimes he wasn’t sure.

“I did it for you, ya know,” he whispered, leaning a bit closer. “The fightin'… the bleedin’... all of it for you, Annalise.”

Annalise pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she looked away. “I know,” she whispered.

Her thumb absentmindedly rubbed against his chest, feeling his warm skin and heartbeat. “I know…”

She was worried about him again, and it made Benny huff quietly. He brought a finger to her chin and turned her face to his. “You worry too much, sugar,” he told her quietly.

“Well…” Annalise moved her hands to fiddle with the blond hair on the back of his head while his hands moved to rub along her slides, catching on her nightgown, “you do a lot to make me worry,” she whispered.

He couldn’t argue there because she was right. He got into trouble a lot. Never backed down from it and never ran. Did more harm than good for him most times, but he’d never change it because he was confident in his abilities to make it back in one piece. To… “Never gets bad enough that I can’t make it back to you,” he assured softly.

Damn Benny Cross… she thought when her heart fluttered like it always did with him. Her eyes fluttered and she met his gaze. Annalise clenched her teeth behind closed lips before looking away before he saw the way her green eyes watered. “I know,” she whispered again. Whispered because maybe she didn’t think she deserved that; someone who wanted to fight for her. And maybe she had rejected Benny so many times because she thought he could do better. Maybe she didn’t think she was worth it, but she knew Benny wasn’t lying. Not Benny.

Benny could read her like a damn book. He could see the way her face warmed due to the swarm of negative emotions welling up in her chest. He could see the way her pretty green eyes turned to glass and the way her shoulders sagged. 

And like always, he knew what she was thinking. She was thinking what she always thought when he voiced his feelings. He knew she thought she wasn’t worth it, and she had rejected him so many times because of it, saying he could do better and leaving it at that. And man did it hurt, more than a cut to his side or a snapped tendon in his ankle. Even now it hurt–always would till she made it go away with sweet words and soft touches, ones he’d dream about until they finally came to be.

Benny leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss to her jaw and then to her cheek. He sighed quietly, warm breath fanning on her skin. It would be futile to try to convince her she was perfect–worth more than anything else. Worth too much really, too much for a guy like him to deserve, but God did he want anyway. 

It was her good for noting dad’s fault, and he’d wanted to kill the abusive bastard more times than Benny could really count, but his sweet girl always begged him not to and he couldn’t say no to her, no matter how hot his anger ran. So he pressed another kiss to her skin and mumbled against her; voice raspy and a bit more hurt than he had intended. “Gonna tell me you’re worthless again?”

Annalise shook her head, a small pout forming on her lips as she mumbled a quiet “no.”

There wasn’t much of a point anyway. He’d just confess to her again and tell her what he thought, and she’d hurt him by rejecting him again despite the warmth in her chest and ache in her heart.

“Not gonna say that,” she whispered before lightly pushing on his chest. He leaned back, per her silent request, and she went back to cleaning his face.

Benny gave a low chuckle that reverberated through his chest. He’d heard it all before anyway; she’d reject him after some line about how worthless she was–a line of shit her shit-for-nothing father beat into her skull. She’d say no to a date, but she never said no to this because she was a sweet thing who never belittled his feelings even when she was rejecting them.

“I love you,” he said quietly, not missing the way her body shifted at his words. Not missing the tensing of her thighs around him.

He smiled; small but true; up at her and placed his hand on her thighs, fingers sliding under her nightgown just a small bit. Never further.

Annalise paused, not because she was surprised by his admission because she wasn’t, but because her heart skipped again. Stupid Benny Cross… 

Annalise pulled her lip between her teeth before letting it go and going back to wiping the grime from his skin. “I know,” she whispered.

“Always gonna love you, Annalise.” “I know, Benny.” And she’d always love him too. Maybe one day she’d be able to tell him properly.

To make those dreams real.

[talentforlying]

i am so immensely going through it rn, so i'm gonna call a semi-hiatus over here until i can put my shit back together. sorry y'all, hope to see everyone soon.

[darkuselesssomebody]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 - slightly dark!steve murphy x reader

complete masterlist | navigation

words || 𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader parties a little too hard, and then gets the d.e.a. at her door.

a/n || this is for @toxicanonymity's boyd-a-thon fundraiser where $10 is donated to PCRF for every (up until 30 total) fic she gets about a Boyd Holbrook character. this is the link for more information on the writing event: boyd-a-thon!! I think it's so fun: building community, getting some great content and donating to a very worthy cause. if you're interested, please check them and the fundraiser out.

➵ warnings for specific content before the divider, please heed them

➵ technically ooc to steve in the show, and is set pre-connie, when he was working DEA in Florida.

➵ not proofread

➵ comment/message if you'd have a request

warnings || smutty/slightly dark

➵ !! reader is somewhat inebriated and is coaxed into compliance to a certain extent !!

➵ !! civilian/handcuffed criminal & officer power dynamic; ergo, abuse of power !!

➵ dubcon

➵ manhandling/cloth ripping

➵ abuse of power

➵ groping

she really wasn't the typical co-ed.

especially compared to her classmates, she tried so hard to stay away from the frat boys, the sweaty, horrible sex, and the copious amounts of substances. she'd promised her parents as much, and they'd threatened to otherwise cut off their support, so, she made sure to be as prim and proper as possible.

of course, she wasn't a nun. she drank, smoked if a cig was offered, had a few bad hook-ups, but come on. compared to everyone else? she was the virgin Mary.

and she'd told her parents as much, when they'd found out about her post-lecture activities.

unfortunately, that wasn't quite enough.

she had poured out her sorrows to her boyfriend- well, situationship - mark, as he kept instructing the bartender to pour her drinks, in the small, poorly lit, but quiet, bar.

"they won't pay my tuition or rent." she pouts, "I'll have to get an job, and then I won't be able to study - and then-" he shushes her with a sloppy kiss.

"you'll be fine." he assures, and she's just drunk enough not to realize he's saying that so he can get her into his bed faster.

it works, and, by one a.m., they'd gotten back to his, had sex, and she'd passed out. he wasn't a heartless bastard, though, he makes her some breakfast the next morning, and finally, properly, listens to her woes.

"i'm just so stressed. and I dunno if they'll - well… forgive me." she groans, rubbing her temples. he sighs, looking across at her contemplatively.

"you know what you need?" he muses, "to relax. thank god spring break is coming up, we should go somewhere." he suggests, squeezing her hand.

"somewhere? mark, the only place I can afford is the local diner." she scoffs, making him laugh, rolling his eyes.

"i'll pay for you." she blinks, looking up at him curiously.

"what?" she knew he came from a pretty well-off family, but that was a pretty big gift.

"yeah, c'mon. you've been such a recluse the last 2 years, s'what your friends say. let's go to Miami beach, hmm?" he smiles, hugging her as he noses up her neck. her face flushes, going warm.

"mi-miami b-beach? are you kidding me, mark? that's not you being good to me, that's - so expensive." he laughs at her worry.

"you're worth it." that makes her smile, "gotta make my girl feel better, right? besides…" his voice quietens conspiratorially, "I wanna finally corrupt you." laughing, she swats at his hands.

"corrupt? mark!" her tone is scolding, but it does little to deter mark.

"live a little, baby." he hums into her neck.

her face grows hotter.

"whatever you say."

--

miami was one of the warmest places she'd been to. always with a thin sheet of sweat, and always with one of those gimmicky, hand-held fans, she kept a firm hand in mark's to avoid the scammers, and worse, the creeps. he laughs at her apprehension, helping her into the taxi to their hotel.

it was small, with just a simple bed, but mark assured her it's fine because they'd hardly be there anyways. she wondered what that meant.

she immediately found out what it meant, that night, when mark drags her to one of the massive parties held at the nearby clubs and at the beaches. surrounded by primarily college students, mark keeps a hand on her hips as they navigate the party. "get a drink?" he shouts over the music and chatter, and she nods, pressed against him so she doesn't get lost.

she gets something with ice, not really caring about the actual drink - just needing to cool off. mark sways to the music, holding her close, and she giggles as he tries to get her to dance with him.

"c'mon, baby, loosen up." she pouts.

"I don't wanna sweat, mark." he laughs, wiggling his eyebrows.

"that's the whole point. besides, I'll have you sweating by morning, anyways." his tone drips with innuendo, and she rolls her eyes playfully, pushing away his face. he evades, dipping his head and playfully biting her jaw, making her squeak.

"loosen up." he insists, and she giggles.

"fine."

the night went on for way too long. after one drink, she started dancing with mark. after two, they started making friends. after three, they got invited to someone's hotel room, where she's already a little woozy from the alcohol and heat.

"you wanna try something?" mark asks, leading her into the hotel bathroom, and locking the door, "scored some nice shit for us." he grins, fishing a baggie from his pocket. her eyes widen in slight horror and significant shock.

"what the hell, mark?" she mumbles, lips a little numb, but he dismisses her with a wave of his hand.

"it's fine, baby, loosen up." she looks at him indignantly.

"it's not fine, mark! isn't it really addictive? and really illegal?" she hisses, voice lowered out of worry someone outside will hear them. he rolls her eyes.

"baby, I've been on this stuff with sophomore year, and you didn't even know. s'not that addictive, and you just gotta be a little careful. that's what you got me for." he pulls her into him, both of them leaning on the sink counter. "besides… you gonna rat me out?" he jokes, making her cheeks warm.

"no…" she murmurs meekly. he kisses her cheek.

"good! then we won't get in trouble. you trust me, right baby?" his voice has just that perfect mix of pleading and reassurance, and she sighs.

"yes."

"atta girl! you're in for the night of your life."

it wasn't the night of her life, it was a whole week. every day was the same routine, late morning with a greasy breakfast to combat the hangover, afternoon at the beach, early dinner, and the trawling for a party. they'd drink, dance, and then find a bathroom to fuck in, which wasn't too different than what they did on normal weekends, but this week, she had the added intake of coke to sustain the lifestyle.

it was euphoric, and unlike any experience she'd have. a little gross, what with the snorting, but mark wasn't too bad with the aftercare. he never told her where he got his supply, and she never asked. who'd she tell, right?

at least, that's what she figured until the party they were at got raided by the d.e.a. she squeals in shock as she hears the harsh shouts of some officers, and mark is quick to press his hand tightly over her mouth, pressing a finger to his lips to motion her to shut the fuck up.

he slowly readjusts her skirt to place it back above her hips, but it's a shoddy job, and they breathe into each other's mouths as they wait in silence, hoping the locked door will be inconspicuous enough that they can't get caught.

unfortunately not.

a sharp knock on the door makes her jolt again, mind already a little fuzzy from the start of the party, and the voice that accompanies it is as intimidating as she'd imagined.

"d.e.a., open up!" they command. she goes to comply, but mark immediately pulls her back, gripping her hard enough to hurt, making her eyes widen in shock. he looks at her with eyes saying what the fuck are you thinking?! and she looks back with i'm scared. the knocks don't stop, "want me to break this damn door down?" the voice threatens, and mark grits his teeth in annoyance as he secedes, unlocking the door.

a man - built, taller than her, maybe mark's height - with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, raises an amused brow at the pair.

"look who we have here, brady." he tilts his head to call for his partner, who comes clambering back into the room, whistling in excitement.

"yeah, they'll do. c'mon, you two." he gestures mark and her to walk out, "we need to have a few words."

--

she was now sitting in the back of a cop car, handcuffed, feeling tears brimming in her eyes.

after handcuffing the two, steve and brady had flipped a coin to decide who got to interrogate the pretty little thing, and who got the dweeby boyfriend. brady's luck was really not on his side this week - even his cards had been screwing his over on his nights - and he rolled his eyes as he, rather forcefully, shoved mark in a patrol car.

steve grinned as he opened her door for her - almost like a gentleman - making sure she was nicely settled before starting the ignition.

she wasn't hurt, sure, but god, was she scared. she was always such a good girl - and she'd just gotten arrested?! halfway across the country, while on vacation?! she felt like a complete idiot, and she was starting to feel pretty bitter towards mark for even roping her into this.

her lip had quivered as she heard steve talking about his eta to the station, and she was now dejectedly tearing up at the thought of having this on her record.

she's a good girl.

that was what she was telling herself, and what steve was gleefully realizing, as he glanced back at her in the rearview mirror.

"y'ain't been caught up in this kinda stuff before, have ya?" he finally breaks the near-silence, and it makes her glance up at the little dit of his profile she can discern in the dark car.

"n-no, officer." she finally stutters out, throat dry. he notices, passing her some water.

"hot as a bitch, ain't it?" he hums, tone friendly, and it makes her soften as she gulps the liquid down.

"yeah… it is." there's another moment of silence, before she realizes they're coming to a stop. at a pretty abandoned street corner. she looks around, confused, before she sees steve turning in his seat to face her.

"why don't you an' I have a li'l chat right here, darlin'?" he proposes, and she immediately tenses in discomfort.

"wh… why not at the station?" he laughs, a little breathily.

"why would I go all the way to the station, when you can tell me what ya know right here, right now, without worrying yer pretty little head about yer record. ya do know coke abuse, now, that's a pretty serious crime, darlin'." he drawls, eyes grazing over her body. she bites her lip.

to have no real record of this? that would be amazing…

"um… okay? I guess, what - what did you wanna ask me?" she doesn't know if she can meet his eyes. it makes her core pulse.

"now, you don't look like you were the one gettin' those goodies. who was givin' 'em to ya, hmm?"

"my - uh…" she inhales sharply, unsure if she can rat out mark. she really doesn't want to; he's good to her. most of the time. "some guy at the party." it's not technically a lie, which makes steve scoff more pronounced.

"it was yer friend, darlin'. or was it boyfriend? based on that li'l bathroom debacle, seems like he's yer boyfriend." he teases.

her cheeks heat, flush obvious even though he can hardly make out her face, just from her shifting alone. why was she suddenly so shy about the label?

"it's not really like that…" and why is she trying to assure this officer that she's not taken?

"yeah, darlin', s'what I figured - after all, you're name's spillin' out of his mouth accordin' to my partner." her eyes widen in horror.

"wait, what?!"

"yeah, that's what he's sayin' - that ya went out back and then came in with a baggie." steve has to hide his smile, because he almost adores the little look on her face which tries - and fails - to conceal her conflicting emotions of betrayal, disgust and confusion. steve knows just why - mark probably isn't that type of guy. and Steve knows that, cause he just made that little tidbit up, "so, what's it gonna be, darlin'? i'd definitely have to take you in if my only talkin' witness says yer the culprit."

her eyes sting with frustration and fear, and small whimper of discomfort bubbles in her throat.

"fine, fine. it was him, he's been buying coke for most of the past few nights. but I don't know where he gets it from." she insists, deflating a little in the backseat. that causes steve to wave his hand dismissively.

"ain't gotta be worried 'bout that, darlin', he can rat out his own friends." he assures, before humming in satisfaction, "see? now, was that so hard?" his drawl is condescending, and she picks at a hangnail. "yer a good girl, darlin', ya shouldn't protect guys like that." he assures, nonchalantly tugging her fingers away from each other so she doesn't continue the fidget-y, destructive behavior. "what's he even got goin' fer ya fer ya t'wanna save his ass?" he muses, a predatory smile on his face. she thinks it looks cruel.

"he's not a bad guy, he's not some drug lord, he's just gotten too caught up in all-"

"s'he yer man?" he cuts through her timid explanations. he's asking again, with a direct purpose this time. "girl like you… he wouldn't know a damn thing 'bout handling ya." he teases, hands moving down from where he's keeping her fingers from picking at themselves, and onto her knees that poked out, bare, under her short, somewhat flowy dress. "ain't I right, darlin'? he could never treat ya right, could he?"

she stills in utterly shock, before sliding her ass back until it slammed the backrest, effectively jolting away from him. "what are you doing?!" she gasps, and it makes him grip her knees harder, pulling her towards him.

"s'okay, m'jus' talkin' ta ya, darlin'." he assures, thumbs rubbing circles into her skin to soothe her. it hardly works, and she feels a paradoxical discomfort in her throat and arousal between her legs. "answer me, then. he treat ya like ya deserve?"

her breath hitches, "I - i don't know what that means-" she admits, too flustered to even let out a coherent thought. he tuts in disappointment.

"then he's a bigger bastard than I thought. not worshippin' a girl like you…" he goes quiet, before a throaty groan leaves him. "it's a cryin', fuckin' shame." he grips her thighs so tightly that she winces, and the little noise is enough to make him go crazy. before she can process, he's out of the front seat, and climbing next to her in the back. her hands are stiff cuffed, and it allows him to move her body easily to be pressed against the opposite door, giving him plenty of room to slide in. "ya wanna have a real man, darlin'? tha's wha' it is? these fuckin' college boys should know better than to disappoint ya, huh - tryna play with the big boys with that li'l baggie you were snortin'?" his words are rough, heavy, fast and overlapping, and she's quickly overwhelmed purely by his presence. his mouth is on hers before she can stop him, but it doesn't exactly seem to him that she would have - the way her lips press back against his hungrily and her tongue flicks out curiously.

a soft moan escapes her, and he grabs the collar of the low-cut dress, ripping it straight down her middle. "oh my god-!" she tries to gasp, but his bruising kiss shuts her up as he gropes her breasts hard enough to make her whimper and squirm.

"thatta girl, wanna li'l rough lovin'?" his eyes are wild and ecstatic, looking down at her as he pants in anticipation. he slowly begins to undo his shirt, and her eyes widen as she follows the movement of his deft fingers down his button-up, greedily savoring the slivers of skin that are exposed underneath. he finally pulls it off, lean body more defined in the dim light of the back alley, shadows accentuating the curves of his biceps, as he places his hands on the door either side of her face, leaning down to mouth at her neck.

for a moment, it's romantic, and then, it's desperate. the taut skin of her neck is the meal to his starved kisses and bites, painful and arousing nibbles trailing down her neck and the newly exposed skin of her chest from where he'd ripped her dress.

"officer, wait-" he presses a hand quickly over her mouth - with the reflexes of a trained law enforcement agent - and the protest dies in her throat. she's almost grateful - she would have sounded like a right hypocrite when she inevitably moaned during her attempt at protest.

"don't ya say a word, darlin'. just stay sittin' pretty for me, hmm?" his voice is so rough that it's almost mean, but she nods obediently, letting him work his way down her body. she gasps as his tongue darts out and flicks once at the elastic of her underwear, body jittering in anticipation and needs.

"Murphy, come in." the crackle of his police radio snaps them both from their pleasure, and the both whip their heads to look at it. steve looks like he wants to murder something, blue balls making his muscles twitch. when he goes to ignore it and continue enjoying his lovely company, he has to resist the urge to shoot his partner when brady speaks again, "come in, murph, he gave us a lead on the supplier. they want us on it, now." steve thinks maybe he should finally get into that meditation bullshit.

he slams the car door shut as he gets out of the backseat, leg bouncing in annoyance and need. he lights a cigarette, before picking up the radio. "brady, I hear ya. we'll be there in 10." he clambers back into the car, slowly driving out of the alleyway, tapping on the steering wheel, antsy. realizing he's still taking her to the station, she exclaims an incredulous 'what?!'

"wait, but you said-"

"no one's gonna know about yer fuckin' drugs." he snaps, a scowl on his face. he glances at her nude body only lightly contoured with the scrappy fabric of her dress. he throws his jacket back her to cover herself up.

"then why am I coming with you?" she asks in a soft voice, more reserved and less emotional.

"you're gonna sit in my office, and wait till I get back from that bust, ya got that darlin'?" her eyes widen in shock, but the harsh look in his eyes tells her not to argue. the pulse in her core also reminds her of it.

"yes, officer." she mumbles.

"good girl."

[ymiahha]

🍓🚬 | strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you. (Sanji x Fem!Reader fanfic – · ep. 11)

📑 – · | 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰: sanji attends a party to find someone to replace his ex with, only to find out that not a lot of women he saw there felt good enough. but everything changes when he meets a pretty lady who asked to light her cigarette...

❗ – · | 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬: this whole fanfiction is based on the song “strawberries and cigarettes” by troye sivan. this story takes places in a college au. it will be told in sanji’s pov. this ep is sfw! contains cursing and smoking. sanji’s family is complete here. y/n will appear like a mary sue, but, in later eps, will be shown that she isn’t. hopefully not too ooc.

🗨️ – · | 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: hi! i’m so glad people are liking the first part so far!! :') this part is, in my opinion, a bit more uneventful than the first part, but hey the next part will have more story and dialogue so stay tuned <3 tysm for reading!!

📁 – · | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐞𝐩. 𝟏

“I’m really sorry, Dad, Mom.” I apologized profusely, bowing.

“What are you apologizing for? As long as it’s for school, it’s a valid excuse,” my mom said compassionately, taking my hands and placing them in hers.

My dad, however, had a stony expression on his face. “Your siblings are never this busy. What’s going on in that damn school, huh? Are they handing you all the work?”

“No, Dad. Our teachers just gave us a lot of homework with the same deadlines.” I said, trying to sound respectful. My dad merely grunted.

Mom looked at him sadly. Then, she tightened her grip on my hands, smiling. “It’s alright, son. Don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

I smiled back. My mother really was such a kind human. It made me feel guilty that I was lying to them.

“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you more.” She gave me one final, reassuring smile before letting me go.

“Ichiji! Call your siblings, we’re leaving now!” My father barked at my eldest brother, who was sitting on the couch. He nodded lazily and stood up, stretching.

We approached the stairs simultaneously, walking up together.

“You’re not really doing schoolwork, are you?” He asked sneakily.

“Are too.” I lied. I gotta hand it to myself, I was pretty good at lying.

My siblings, however, were good lie detectors.

“I should use that excuse next time… Tch, schoolwork my ass…” Ichiji murmured to himself as we reached the top of the stairs.

I opened the door to my room and locked myself in. Outside, I could hear my brother yelling at my siblings to go.

I took a deep breath and began fixing myself. I put on my golden hoodie over my black Levi’s shirt and changed into my good, unwrinkled variant of jeans.

I can’t fuck this up, I thought to myself, combing my hair in front of my closet mirror nervously. Why wasn’t a strand sitting still? I’ll pour the whole gel bottle on myself if it impresses the beautiful woman who invited me to go out.

After what felt like an eternity, my reflection finally gave me a nod of approval. Decent. Maybe even good.

But as I stared at myself, doubt started creeping in. What if she doesn’t show? What if this was some stupid joke? Did Zoro set this beautiful girl up or something, just to break my heart again for fun?

I shook my head, shoving my dumb thoughts away. No. Y/n didn’t seem like the type to mess with people. She was... different. Cool, confident, and way out of my league. But she had asked me. Of all the other guys in that party, she asked me. A dumb, blond smoker.

I perfumed myself then pocketed my phone, lighter, and a few cigarettes. I never go out without them. My friends tell me off a lot for that.

“You’re going to school with a cigarette and a lighter? Are you out of your mind?” Nami scolded me in an empty classroom. I tried to be sneaky with lighting my cig, too.

I merely shrugged, rocking the chair with closed eyes. “I don’t leave without ‘em. It’s like, I need them to breathe.”

“You can’t go out in public carrying those around all the time! I—give me that!” Nami snapped, snatching the cigarette from my fingers when she noticed I wasn’t listening.

“Hey, give that back! Come on, relax will you?” I said angrily, my position no longer lax.

“You can’t resort to unhealthy habits just because your bitchy ex left you,” Nami glared at me. I glared back.

“Yeah, well, you’re not some bitch on my right shoulder to tell me what and what not to do, so who gives a shit?” I rolled my eyes, getting up and leaving the classroom with calm footsteps.

Behind me, Nami made a noise of incredulity. I think I just pissed off someone I would regret pissing off.

I sighed. Peeking out my window, I checked to see whether my family’s car has left. It made me wonder what car Y/n owned. Was it a Bugatti? A Maserati? A Ferrari?

I snapped back to reality. The front driveway was empty. So they already left, I guess. I hastily scattered my books, notebooks, and pens all over my desk to make it look like I’ve been studying.

I then opened the window to my room, cool air whipping my face almost immediately. Inhaling sharply, I slipped out and carefully stood on the ledge, trying not to fall.

I tried not to look down… it wasn’t that high up, but probably high up enough to injure me. I delicately closed the window and, with a small prayer, jumped down.

Making sure the neighbours don’t see me, I crouched. I heard a distant sneeze from a house somewhere…

I sneaked to the backyard and took a deep breath. With that, I jumped the fence and ran.

[b-writessometimes]

Sick John Constantine w/ GN. Reader - Headcanons

Warnings: None, other than slight OOC John Constantine?  But idgaf.  It’s fanfiction.  Emphasis on the fiction part.  I originally wrote this while i was suffering from a cold so bear with me. 🙏

[word count: 861]

This man has two momentums he swings to when being under the weather.  We start off with his knee-jerk reaction:

Phase 1: Denial.

You know those people who claim they're 'not sick' while having a tissue box shoved up their noses?  That's him.  

I mean, he already regularly coughs up a lung due to his smoking habits, so in his own warped perception, having a cold is no different.

A large part of it is a pride thing.  After all he's the same guy who's gone up against demons, gods, and countless supernatural threats.  You think he's going to slow down just on account of some silly little thing like an illness?

John's denial shatters however once he hits a high fever.  By then he holes himself up wherever he's staying for the week and spends a whole day in bed with used tissues scattered throughout and a whole jug of water nearby.  (gross)

There’s some real cosmic irony to be found in the acclaimed 'Hellblazer' who tricked the devil himself, now reduced to a sweaty and half coherent mess because of some germs.

And thus we enter our next stage.  This is where you, our dear Reader comes in.  Knowing that John has the self preservation of a hamster, you take it upon yourself to check up on him.

Phase 2: Acceptance.

I fully believe that first this man will act all high and mighty insisting 'he doesn't need a babysitter' yada yada.  He'll grumble and make the usual sarcastic remark about you sticking around and babying him when in fact you’re trying to y'know, actually help him.  

But man's is real quick to shut up once you force give him some soup to drink and some genuine care.  (a sip of sopa de pollo is more powerful than any magic spell he could brew up, i swear-)

Little did you know, you've unknowingly unleashed a demon.

He's going to milk his newfound 'poor sick patient' status to its limits.  Will ask for anything and everything: some ice cold water, an extra pillow, the damn remote, random chores to be done, etc. 

I'm also convinced he would try to continue smoking his cigs even whilst sick, so you had to hide them like how parents hide treats in the pantry so that their kids don't scarf them down whole.

Aside from the whole ordeal, deep down the warlock does have to admit it was...oddly nice having someone take care of him.  Most folks just barely tolerate him on a good day, so having someone willingly watch over his sorry ass was a refreshing feeling.  And he really is grateful for your company even if he was being a complete twat during it all (he was).

If John had a high enough fever he might mumble out something akin to those lines, but when he gets better the following day he'll deny ever saying so till the cows come home.

Like we get it, you’re emotionally repressed/ lack emotional intimacy.  Just say you appreciated our help.

Bonus - Romantic-geared Headcanons 💗 (implied relationship).

So much worse.  If that were possible.  Also cue all the comments about you playing 'doctor' and him being the patient in this kinky role play you devised.  Whether you go along is up to you.

Will be even more whiny the more comfortable he is around you.  So if John acts like a big clingy cat, at least you know your relationship is something solid.

Seems like the type to enjoy, or in this case; need, his head in your lap while you scratch his scalp (likely dandruff infested but anyways-)  

Still tries to flirt with you when sick.  I don't think delivering lines with a hoarse voice and watery eyes is anyone's bread and butter, but you never know.

Gets pouty if you refuse to kiss him.  Like any sane human would refrain from.  Yes you've likely kissed him whilst he was covered in some demon's blood before, but not while he was sneezing all over the place and wheezy to the point of sounding like a broken squeaker toy with crusty lips.

But also will 100% make some smart comment if you do willingly kiss him while he's under the weather.  So there really is no winning here.

I don't think he's much for TV, but at this rate you can basically put on anything and he'll be weirdly invested in it.  Which to clarify, doesn't mean he'll enjoy it, just be very opinionated on everything happening on screen.

Gives you a little gift when all is said and done.  Nothing over the top or sentimental.  Not his style.  Instead when you find a little doodle of your favorite animal, graphite sketch torn out of some notebook depicting your favorite animal, you already know who it’s from despite the lack of artist signature.

I saw a headcanon floating around somewhere of John drawing in his down time and now I’m taking it and running it down to the ground with me

Is willingly to return the favor and 'play nurse' with you next time whenever you get ill.  To be expanded upon in a future post.  Probably.

[lichenes]

Omg Ski Aggu requests?? Thank you! 😭 💕

Can I ask for a situation where Aggu is ticklish but he keeps it very low profile in order to keep his “cool persona” but then reader finds out that he’s ticklish

Finally Aggu ask!!! I've been waaaaiting. The gif relays exactly what i think abt him. Aggu is the loml. Send me more Aggu asks!!

CW: kissin, cigs, alcohol, ooc.... sorry :|

wc: 483

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

You were looking at him from across the room, trying to catch him staring. You must’ve looked insane, your friends around you distracting you from the blonde, incessantly pointing towards him and ‘ooo’ing. “Shut the fuck up.” You said to one of them when he turned his head towards you. You gave him a bright smile and he smiled back from behind the goggles. 

The oohs got louder after that, fortunately they were quiet enough to not raise his suspicions. This cat and mouse play has been going throughout the whole night. It took everything from you not to walk up to him and kiss his stupid mouth. He kept talking to all his - you assumed - friends and didn’t have a moment to rest and talk to you. The indomitable human spirit was real and you were embodying it right in this moment.

You went to the bathroom hoping to cool down after the whole ordeal. You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. It’s go time. 

“Hi!” You introduced yourself to him when you caught him finally alone in the kitchen. “Hello.” He said looking you up and down, not like you’d see from behind the goggles. You introduced yourself. “Gorgeous name for a gorgeous person.” He said, laughing slightly at the corniness. “Was wonderin’ when you’d talk to me.” 

Your face got hotter, your hands started sweating and your heart seemed to rush a million miles an hour. Shit. He noticed. He was sitting in an open window, the moonlight illuminating his features just as well as the burning out lightbulb did. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to seem like a creep.” You said, almost giving up. He leaned against the counter. “No worries sweetheart.” He said making you malfunction. He was… bold. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Want one?” You shook your head. “Too bad, come sit with me.” 

You spent the next minutes getting to know him, asking him about his music career, his humble beginnings and why did he wear those goggles. “‘s just fun. The mystery of it all you know?” You chuckled.

You were both joking about something when you poked his side by accident while gesturing wildly. He recoiled. “Is everything okay?” You asked worried you’d upset him. “‘s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He was ticklish, you realised. From then on you teased him relentlessly about it.

You were smoking a cig passing it to him occasionally - an indirect kiss - you thought. “What, like you like being tickled.” He said his goggles not hiding the blush that was sprawled across his face. You laughed, the alcohol you ingested for bravery before the conversation evaporated the second he smiled. He leaned in closer.

You felt yourself turning sober suddenly. He pressed his lips to yours. They were chapped and the cigs were evident on his breath but at that moment - you didn’t mind. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────••────────•°•❀•°•────────•

masterlist

[blu3-ja3]

It's time for my forgotten baby boy Roach! Please know that while I truly try to keep the 141 in character, I may go a bit OOC. I didn't put this in Soap's post but all of these will have 5 short stories.

1) A Rule O'Connor put in place for the boy

2) The boys first time seeing O'Connor's scar properly

3) O'Connor and Price have a chat

4) Boy learns a little more about O'Connor's Son

5) Something O'Connor learns from the boy after a moment of vulnerability.

!TRIGGER WARNING! Collapsing, Blood, Self Imposed Exhaustion, Dehydration

1) Strung Up

Roach is chaos incarnate, I see him in my office more than anyone else when we're on base. He constantly has a new scrape or bruises that Gaz or Soap drag him into be seen. They both have a standing rule that if they see Roach hurt they have to bring him into my office. Roach is creative with his boredom, one of his favorite hobbies to pass the time is to climb as high as possible. If Roach finds a spot he'll stay there, only coming down to do the essentials like eating at the mess. If he can, Roach would sleep in his little perch.

It was a quiet day at Bastion. I was sat in my office doing nothing in particular when Gaz appeared in my office door. He looked around very frantically.

"Cig? What're you looking for?"

"Have you seen Roach? I've not seen him since yesterday when we got back."

"Not even for breakfast we had muffins."

"No! It's why I'm looking for him, Soap saved him two muffins."

"Well where have you looked, it's a large base."

It took everyone an hour to finally catch a glimpse of Roach, he was tucked into a random corner at the very top of the hanger hidden behind a half wall. Ghost spotted the young man's boot, it could only be seen from a certain angle. Roach wasn't responding to anyone and it was getting nerve wracking.

"Does anyone see a way to get up there? I'm not sure we have a ladder tall enough to get up there."

"I think I have an idea. Price can you see about clearing out this hanger. Gaz go, get the climbing equipment and two body harnesses, they should be in the left closet of the rec room. Ghost go, into my barracks and grab the bag that's closest to the bed. Soap I need you to find something that's heavy but we're able to throw over those rafters." I rushed into my office and grabbed my stethoscope, blood pressure gauge, and some liquid Pedialyte.

I reappeared to the same spot at about the same time as most everyone else, Ghost was the last to come , carrying my bag. Everyone immediately started getting to work. We decided it would be best for Gaz to go up and rig Roach, they're both light and it would be easy for me and Ghost to heighten and lower the two.

Roach was up all night, not able to sleep and found the first spot he couldn't be disturbed. How he got up there even he doesn't know. I told him that for now on he has to check and make sure at least one of the 141 could get up there as well. He was also given a map of all the bases and buildings and was told to write down every spot he has.

2) Carrie

I'm on a semi-undercover operation with Roach, we've made our way into a butchery that has the potential to be a front for some not so savory activities. This was a last minute lead but it's our only lead for the missing General so here we are. Neither of us have our typical gear so I'm a little on edge checking every room before entering. We know there's likely no one here as Ghost and Soap are enacting a distraction plan. But we had to make this quick.

Roach moves ahead of me and pushes open the door. I hear it and move before processing what's happening. Diving forward I shoved Roach through the door as liquid spilled onto my head and down my back. The smell of iron and acrid, a smell I know all too well. Blood, I was covered in blood and who knows what else.

"Doc? Shit we've got to get you cleaned up! What the bloodly hell was that?"

I felt a hand grab me, before I pulled myself away. "DON'T! Don't touch me! Roach we don't know what is in this! We have to get out and quickly can you radio Price?" I grab my shirt and pull it off, wiping off my head and face while Roach finishes calling Price.

"Do you want my hoodie?"

"Keep it we need to slip out quickly, we'll deal with all of this once at the safe house." I grab a nearby butcher's smok and ran. The whole time I feel like there's eyes on me, staring at my scar. It puts me even more on edge as we move through the streets.

Once back at the safe house I pushed past quickly and made my way towards the shower. I kept it cold and drenched myself quickly, removing what clothes I could salvage. I did my best to wash away the blood in my hair and on my skin. I was lucky that it only seems to be blood and nothing else. But only time will tell, here's hoping.

"Um Doc?"

"Yes Roach, I'm okay!"

"Well my hoodie is hanging on the doorknob... Since your shirt is ruined!"

I poke my head out and grab the hoodie before slipping it on. Its fit was slightly baggie on my frame, because despite the fact that I'm taller than Roach he was definitely bigger than me. I left my hair down to dry easier and thankfully my shirt was the only article of clothes covered in the blood.

"Thank you for the hoodie, Bug."

"There's an extra set of clothes here but the shirt is a short sleeve. I know you like to keep covered up because of the ya'know scars... OH! Not to say that you should keep covered up I just meant-"

I hold up my hand with a soft smile.

"It's fine Bug, it's a creature comfort. I really do appreciate it."

"Yeah! I like that, creature comfort."

The conversation continued until Soap and Ghost returned and we all made our way to extraction. After going through the quarantine protocols and being cleared I made my way to Roach and returned his hoodie.

3) Playful Pup

"Are you positive he can handle this kind of responsibility. I love Roach but the boy forgets to take care of himself when we're on base, do you really think he can handle a dog?"

"Yes, I think he'll take better care of himself with the dog. Trust me John, I saw how he looked at the pup. He was enthralled and so focused."

" If he can't handle it you'll be the one to take the dog away? I'm not breaking that boy's heart."

"I promise, if Roach can't handle the dog I'll be the one to be mean. But I know it won't come to that. I really do think this will be the best thing for Roach."

4) A Face To The Name

I step into my office only to notice a figure sitting in my chair. They're hunched forwards staring at something in their lap so it takes me a moment to realize who's in my office.

"How's she cuttin' Bug?"

I see the young man jump a bit before whipping his head towards me, his mouth, nose, and neck covered by one of his masks. Freckles cheeks stained by tears, his dark brown eyes welling up with fresh tears. I rush towards the young man before crouching down next to him.

"Roach! What's wrong lad?" I let go of his hands as he begins frantically signing.

'I didn't mean to go through your desk but your office is always so quiet, I needed a place to calm down! Then I got bored!'

I look down at what Roach has in his lap. My heart jumps to my throat. A small framed picture of a young man smiling into the camera, he's wearing a simple blue shirt that makes his curly ginger hair almost glow. He's smiling, there's a healthy blush on his freckled cheeks. His blue and brown eyes have a spark of pure glee and life.

Tears begin well up in my eyes, it has been a little too long since I've seen my son. I forgot I even had this here. I take a deep breath and reach to rub the tears from my eyes.

'Is this him? William?'

I nod to Roach. I don't trust my voice right now and I can't seem to get my hands move, so I can't sign back to Roach.

'Yes, this is the last photo he took before...' I vaguely gestured.

I pick up the framed picture and stand up. I take a deep breath as I walk to a shelf behind my desk and find a spot to place the picture of my son.

I turn back to Roach and eventually we make our way to the mess hall. I chatted with Roach, answering every question he has about William.

5) A Little More Trust

I stand outside with Soap as we watch the rest of the 141 comes of the Boeing. I'm still recovering from several fractured ribs and Soap's currently waiting for his broken arm to heal. They've all arrived from an op near Urzikstan, I didn't get many details from Price or Laswell. I'm happy to see most everyone back in one piece, Price was helping Kyle off the Boeing.

I learned that about mid-way through their op Gaz took a lovely little tumble tweaking his knee. After getting Gaz check out everyone meets up in the cantina and chatting. Roach isn't here yet so we wait for a bit, the cantina clears out. Its an empty room aside from our little table, Gaz and Soap are chatting together while Ghost has a very cuddly Soap at his side. Gaz is leaning back against Price with his leg propped up on the bench.

The tall figure of Roach appears beside the table, he's pale with heavy bags under his eyes and a bit of sweat on his temples. I open my mouth to ask him if he's feeling alright before the boy collapses next to the table. Ghost is quick enough to grab him before he falls completely to the floor but not fast enough to prevent the sergeant from knocking his head against the table.

"Shit! Gary? Lad!"

Price moves to the other side of Roach's collapsed form. Everyone begins to move to check on their friend and help get him to my office. He's carried to the cot on the far side of the room and set down. I shooed everyone back while I work to remove unnecessary articles of clothing. He's wearing tons of layers so I remove enough for me to check everything, I feel bad removing the boys mask so I don't. I work the best I can and check everything I can to find out the cause for Roach's collapse is. I tell everyone to go eat and I'll come get them once Roach wakes.

I'm sat writing a baseline report of Roach's condition and what could likely be the culprit. He seems to have severe dehydration and a heavy lack of sleep. He over worked himself while on op and got very little sleep. The dehydration was a bit extreme even with the climate they were in, so it's likely that Roach has been wearing the multiple layers while in the field. Eventually Roach wakes up, I moved towards handing him a water bottle and an apple.

"Roach darling? Are you okay?"

"M'fine, gotta a bloody pounding in my head."

I nod before pushing "Roach, you collapsed. You've been out for a few hours and you're severely dehydrated."

"You know where we were sent, yeah? Everyone's a little lackin' Doc."

"Roach, I'm trying to be nice. What's with all the layers lad? I could tell by the smell you've not taken them off for a bit ya?"

Roach nods "Not feeling very comfortable in my own skin, the layers helped. Brought some comfort, kept eyes off of me. The more layers felt better, it was hot but I could handle the heat."

"But the only eyes were the boys, none are going to judge you Roach."

"Then why do you still wear your long sleeves around them? We've all seen your arm and neck but you still wear your long sleeves Doc... Bit hypocritical isn't it?"

" A little but I haven't collapsed."

"Yet."

I sighed "Go to the mess, get some food then get to the rec everyone will meet you there."

I make my way into my barracks after escorting Roach out of my office. Once inside I pull off the turtle neck long sleeve and go to my trunk, I dig to the very bottom grabbing a tank top, then my hoodie, and put both on. I walk into the rec room to find everyone there.

"How's she cuttin' boys?"

I walk over and sit down on the couch next to Ghost, Soap is next to him in a cushioned chair. Roach is across from him with Gaz and Price taking the smaller couch. On the table in the middle is a game of Uno. After the round ends I join in as well. We got about half through when I set my card face down and stood up. I pulled off my hoodie and sat back down.

"You're sleeves looking good Maevis, see you finally got the skeleton."

"Nice new canvas for you to color on Johnny, nice for it not to be me for a change."

I smiled towards Roach and gave him a small nod. I sign 'No Pressure but they won't judge us'

He nods and takes off his hoodie as well leaving in a grey shirt but he keeps his mask on. We continued our game chatting about everything from what my next tattoo would be, to what Ghost might to get tattooed next, to Price cheating somehow. This continued into the night before we called it and turned in for the night.

COD Master List

[juniorig0327]

As much as realistically don’t see Percy doing drugs or drinking, it will be unfortunately something I’m probably going to incorporate into my fics because the idea and angst of it is too hard to resist.

I’d say it starts when finally his brain starts to process his trauma, and I mean like all of it. It doesn’t start on purpose, maybe he stumbles across it on accident. But then he gets his first few tastes and there’s no turning back.

Naturally he’d hate it, he’d hate his reliance on alcohol and drugs (I dont see Percy ever drinking Beer because of Gabe, when he drinks, he drinks to forget.) and he’d probably start isolating himself and ignoring people simply because he’s scared. He doesn’t know what type of drunk he is and he doesn’t want to find out.

Eventually it sort of spirals from a way of coping to a form of self harm in a way. Because his body forces himself to remember regardless.

And eventually he’d get sober, he’d never touch alcohol again. Because at the end of the day, Percy is supposed to be the one who breaks the cycle. I personally HC Percy as a very intense stress smoker (cigarettes) so I don’t think that habit would go away.

But just the idea of it really gets me lol and I’m surprised I don’t see more of it (probably because this type of thing is typically given to Jason Grace)

The fact that every morning after a hangover he may look in the mirror and see Gabe staring back.

Maybe he’d start smoking the same brand of cigs that Gabe did.

Maybe someone tried to help him and he just got really aggressive and angry.

Plus people who are abused as a child are more likely to engage in alcohol and drugs.

Also let’s not even get started into canon Percy, with not only the drinking but the drug side? Taking drugs in order to get some sort of high because his body craves an adrenaline rush and sparring with campers and killing monsters isn’t enough anymore. Hes become so addicted to the rush of adrenaline he can’t live without it? Idk man.

Anyway I guess that’s sort of an explanation? Or something as to why Percy will commonly be doing things like that and why it may seem so ooc and why I say “fuck it” and do it anyways.

Of course I have other characters who have bad coping mechanisms that may or may not be in most of my stuff. Like Annabeth who I’m sort of giving compulsive helping and Jason with his hero complex lol.

Anyways… thank you for coming to my TedTalk lmao.