#(which will be pale as a ghost 😂)

[freepassbound]

1, 8, 13, 17, 19, 35, 40, 43 and 55 please 😁

1. Coffee or tea? This answer to this is "No." 😂

8. Early bird or night owl? Night owl.

13. Winter or summer? Winter, by far.

17. Tan or pale? On me? Pale, I guess? I don't really tan.

19. Ice cream or yogurt? Ice cream.

35. Facial hair or clean shaven? Again, on me? Facial hair - I've always got at least a 5'o'clock shadow.

40. Fruit or vegetables? For consumption on their own, fruit.

43. Dark chocolate or white chocolate? If I have milk - dark chocolate. If not - white.

55. Money or fame? Money.

[cs-fox]

FOXHOUND | GHOST X FEM!READER PART 5

@lunarmothim yes. yes that is a very good reason for me to write this

ok this one needs a real cw

cw: smut, virgin reader, almost non-con [reader callsign; Fox, y'all know the drill by now 😂)

part 4

also i aint a smut writer, i apologise in advance

______________________________________________________________

Before you knew it, you were back in Ghost’s - den, you supposed, in the way a wolf makes a nest and from there, stalks it’s prey before dragging back it’s fresh kill and devouring it.

That’s the only thing you could think of as his hands found their way onto your midsection, gently pushing you back onto the thin mattress of his bedroll before his forehead pressed to yours, hot breath clogging up your lungs.

‘Such a pretty little fox - ’

You gasped underneath him, chest heaving, only able to watch as his hands all but tore off the heavy layers protecting you from the freezing cold, chuckling as he saw the damp spot already forming on the pale cotton of your panties - from the feeling of his cheek pressed to your thigh while he carried you over his shoulder to his den.

‘S’ ready for me, huh, luv?’

Barely a sound could escape from your lips as he drew the thin cloth down to join the cargo pants around your ankles.

Then his head was between your thighs, and now, you could safely say you forgot how to breathe.

His tongue slipped expertly between your slick folds, gathering the fluid into his mouth. The pinkish swell of your rosebud didn’t go unnoticed, as his mouth served attention to that too, gently flicking over the sensitive area in a way that made incoherent (and certainly undignified) whines escape your lips.

Ghost just hummed into your pussy, making you whimper from the vibrations against your already needy centre.

His tongue finally dipped inside, and you clenched so tight that he actually laughed.

‘First time or sm’thin’?’

You shuddered, and to his surprise, you nodded.

Feeling him pause for a split-second, you moaned loudly, far too needily for him to just ignore -

And his tongue pressed even deeper without any more hesitation, in fact - he seemed even more eager to make you fall completely apart, which he was certainly succeeding in.

Fuck…

Maybe you’d let him hunt you more often, if it ended like this.

And that was the last thought you had before your vision went white, the feeling of hot, sticky fluid spilling over your thighs and then being lapped up by Ghost's tongue overwhelming you.

'Good girl,' he mumbled thickly, and you watched in awe as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, swallowing the sweet fluids he'd just so carefully extracted from your body.

'Got any more f' me, huh, sweet'eart?'

______________________________________________________________

when u start to write a drabble but it's taking up far too much of your headspace

IDK IF I WANT TO FINISH IT YET ??? ANYONE WANT AN EPILOGUE OR SOMETHIN...

[pakgirls530916]

You’re such a hater that your white decrepit faves looks like boiled split teabags p*dos huh? Haggard ole Princess Kate w the flabby a** and the “prince” who looks like a bucktooth shoe that don’t even want her? Sad.

Hi Meghan. Are you talking about yourself again? You have to wear so many fake ones (teeth), because your breath be humming. We all see your multiple personalities coming out.

I feel ya, you and your separated broke ass man are nowhere near the gorgeous "Power Couple". After all even the surrogates refused to let you keep the kids, even when you went to Nigeria.

You have NOTHING and YOU ARE NOTHING, but a Yachtie, still opening your legs to Pale, Stale men to get ahead, servicing those people, including Uncle Andy (allegedly) and you tried to bribe him and pretend you were knocked up. But he ghosted you..just like everyone else. Thus you were ragdoll handed ✋️ down to the nephew, and used the same fake story on him. 🤢🤮

You are "Persona Non Grata", wherever you go.

You have to "buy awards" whereas the "Power Couple" give out awards, can fundraise and continously have the back up of us REAL BRITS and AMERICANS, even the REAL Elites, such as Biden, went to go visit the REAL Royal, not the "Rent a Royals". You have to "beg" like the 🐕 you are to bum rìdes and make up lies and 💩; still remaining a joke, on top of that irrelevant. Briefcase #24(6), down in the totem pole; which you are very "familiar with".

Need to get back on your meds again. But I guess PA and the elites stopped your payments. That's why your husband is with the blonde and you keep flicking from man to man.

I will choose the stable "Power Couple" all day, every day cuz you ain't 💩 just a 🤡🤭🤭🤭🤣😂🤣

And lastly you are RIGHT! EVERYONE HATES YOU ROACHEL RAGLAND!! EVERYONE! Hollywierd (Kevin Costner, Gwenyth Paltrow, A listers like Cameron Diaz, even Nachos Wife) HATES YOU!! BRITS HATE YOU!! CANADIANS HATE YOU! Veterans HATE YOU!! Even your own co-workers at Suits, except for Abigail Spencer, who you pay to come out HATES YOU!

You are HATED everywhere you go! NIGERIA, even Colombia, are REJECTING Your BROKE, Lazy Grifting ASS cuz YOU ARE

[esther-dot]

Daenerys destroy everything she touches. It’s just INSANE just how much damage and chaos her incompetence, stupidity and entitlement has done to Astapor.

She took the city’s entire defense force, the Unsullied, with her when she left, with no real thought as to what will happen when you leave a power vacuum, and set up a council to govern the city that had absolutely no means to enforce its will or its laws. One of the men on the council is specified as being a “priest,” but since the clergy of the Ghiscari Harpy religion are only ever described as female (the Graces), it seems quite likely, if not outright definite, that she appointed someone to govern a city wherein he had zero cultural, social, religious or political authority.

She doesn’t leave military support to the council she leaves behind to rule and it was overthrown very quickly after she left, and the new king, Cleon, a tyrant, promptly reinstated slavery, kidnapping noble children and attempting to turn them into new Unsullied (this didn’t work, for obvious reasons).

Astapor ends up ridden with disease and famine the minute it falls under siege of the slavery-restoration alliance led by Yunkai, with competing claimants killing each other and trading power until they’re subsequently replaced. Daenerys learns about this once she’s set up in Meereen but doesn’t commit any forces to help, fearing that she’ll lose Meereen if she goes back to Astapor. Meanwhile, the Astapori practice cannibalism by lots and many eventually commit mass suicide. The pale mare plague wipes out a huge number of people (even refugees who make it to Meereen die of it in camps outside the city), and most of the rest are displaced refugees, killed when Yunkai eventually sacks the city, or re-enslaved. By the time Quentyn Martell arrives, it’s functionally ceased to exist. (A lot of people skip over Quentyn’s chapters in the fifth book, and in so doing miss how APPALLING the Astapor situation is.)

Astapor is a ghost town except for dead and dying people and enemy soldiers. A total blood bath. It’s absolutely obliterated, just on a longer timeline than a one-off firebombing.

The criticism of Daenerys’s actions in Astapor is not that she freed the slaves, it’s that after freeing the slaves she just left and abandoned them to their bloody fate. You cannot destroy a city’s government and economy and then walk away. Even if it is a terrible government, with an economy built on slavery, you have to stabilize things afterwards. Daenerys have a responsibility in kickstarting new industries and find a new form of PAID work for these people. And there’s also the fact that Daenerys herself is a slaver but that’s a discussion for another day.

(I know that GRRM has said that his books are not allegories for the Iraq war but the parallels and similarities are truly unsettling.)

Yeah, I’m gonna have to forbid talk about Quentyn. I just got teary eyed at the mere mention of him. 😂 I got attached quick and was horrified by his death. But yes, I agree, it was meant to show us how horrible the situation is. Absolute hell.

I actually thought Martin had compared it to Iraq because I've seen people say that, but you're right. This is the quote I found:

Q: A Dance With Dragons spends quite a lot of time in Essos, which is kind of the analog to Asia and the Middle East in the world the story takes place in, as opposed to Westeros, which seems to owe a lot to Western Europe. When I was reading about Dany, who has become a light-skinned, foreign ruler of an exotic land, it reminded me of The Man Who Would Be King, the Sean Connery and Michael Caine movie that is based on a Rudyard Kipling story. Do you think about these parallels — colonialism, the "white man's burden" — when you're writing? A: I've said many times I don't like thinly disguised allegory, but certain scenes do resonate over time. Other people have made the argument, which is more more contemporary, that it might have resonances with our current misadventures in Afghanistan and Iraq. I'm aware of the parallels, but I'm not trying to slap a coat of paint on the Iraq War and call it fantasy. (link)

I'm not sure how reliable this source is, but I also found this:

Finally, in a stunning revelation, when an audience member put the ridiculous question, “JRR Tolkien strenuously denied that his books were in any way an allegory for World War II, have you ever been accused of writing about climate change by proxy? You know, it being a bit of a thing in your works, the long Winter?” George replied, “No, I haven’t, not until now,” and continued, “Like Tolkien I do not write allegory, at least not intentionally. Obviously you live in the world and you’re affected by the world around you, so some things sink in on some level, but, if I really wanted to write about climate change in the 21st century I’d write a novel about climate change in the 21st century. Sometimes things happen that are hard to believe. You have to remember I’ve been writing these since 1991, in a couple of the recent books Daenerys Targaryen wielding the massive military superiority offered to her by three dragons has taken over a part of the world where the culture and ethos, and the very people are completely alien to her, and she’s having difficulty ruling this land once she conquered it. It did dawn on me when George W Bush started doing the same thing that some people might say, ‘Hmmm, George is commenting on the Iraq War’, but I swear to you I planned Dany’s thing long before George Bush planned the Iraq War, but I think both military adventures may come to the same end, but it’s not allegory.” (link)

This isn't about ASOIAF, but it feels relevant to this ask and some of the other anti Dany asks I've been getting. He said this after he saw Spielberg's War of the Worlds:

I kept thinking of the story as a metaphor for our invasion of Iraq… regular people trying to live their lives and survive as a technologically superior invader comes in and smashes their world all to hell. (That metaphor is very much implicit in the novel. H.G. was talking about the British imperialism of the Victorian Age, of course, not the American imperialism of the 21st century, but one of the strengths of science fiction is its ability to transcend the specifics of time and place and culture and assume new meanings for new audiences). (link)

So, I think just because he didn't have a specific invasion in mind, doesn't mean he wasn't criticizing the result of these actions or the ideology behind it. He writes a lot of material to showcase the horror of war, each generation has one that looms large in their minds, so we naturally relate it to that. He knows this, other writers do this, he as an audience member does it!

[saltybean03]

Some blorbo about cedric and godrick meeting each other for the first time 🤧

Id like to imagine when he APPEARS in stormveil, godricks men are like "wtf is THAT" and gostoc at the gate comes runnin to godrick scared out of his wits like "milord, you have company" and godrick is like "why so pale? You look like youve seen a ghost or something!" And gostoc is like "more like something, milord...... theres a, uh.. someone here to see you that says hes a brother of yours" and godrick twists a lock of his hair with this unimpressed expression like "meh, distant relatives.." and then gostoc is like "no, lord godrick. They're a direct descendant of the golden lineage" and hes like "oh??" And hes like "and they are also grafted.....i think" and godrick gets all excited like "ooh! A brother after my own interests! I must see them at once!" Ced comes crawlin in, the soldiers are like that meme of dafoe staring at the sky in fucking horror.

You know, this one? 😂

And the energy in the whole castle changes as his shadow literally OVERTAKES godrick like the fucking solar eclipse, and cedric is like "hello, brother! :]" and godrick has a "oh no, chat" moment as he realizes the extent of the homunculus in front of him. Hes like "my, my..! You are more than i expected..!" But you know godrick, hes prideful so he doesnt outright say what hes thinking which is him geeking out like "i-incredible..! The extent of those grafts..! And they're near seamless..! And he can move so easily with it all..!" And cedric is like "i have something for you, brother!" And proceeds to pull a rykard and take an axe out from the depths of his insides talkin bout some damn "apologies if its a little wet, nyehe." and the mf is forged from living flesh (just like rykards sword hey hey!) And godrick is just like "FOR ME?!?!" because i seriously doubt atp anyone has ever given that man something nice, and he just starts ugly crying as his pride is shattered by genuine kindness, and ceds like "i heard you like axes, so i had one made for you as a gift" and godrick is just "NO ONES EVER DONE ME A KINDNESS LIKE THIS!! I CANT THANK YOU ENOUGH!!" and gostoc is just 😬 in the background, lmfao, still trying to process wtaf hes looking at. Cedric def takes Pendra everywhere, as well, he took her with him on this trip to stormveil. Shes like "his majesty, cedric, formerly the grafted centipede, has come a great distance to meet you. ^^" and ceds like "youre all arms, godrick" 😏 and godrick is like "youre one to talk.. cedric" 😏 BLORBO ESTABLISHED. And ced is the life of the party man, lemme tell you! Hes like "lets get a picture to remember this moment in history forever, dearest brother!" And its a whole album of them making goofy faces. Godrick has no time to question the legitimacy of it cause hes just so happy to know he has a trueblood brother other than morgott. Not that he needs to question it. I cant draw it worth a damn but they do look very much alike in the face, despite cedric's obvious bug mouth horror. Gostoc is like "pardon my boldness on the matter but how do we even know hes your brother? He looks nothing like you, milord!" And they're just standing next to each other, lookin like a fucking mirror. And godrick is like "I dont know what you mean! He looks exactly like me!" And pendra agrees like "i concur. They are one and the same" pspspsps, gostoc is just jealous hes not the center of attention anymore... 😏

And they just trade stories all day, as honored guests! Godrick is dying to know how he did it all. Hes like "how have you achieved such a respectively monstrous form??" And hes just like "creative freedom, nyehe. Tell me brother, do you eat tarnished here?" And godrick just pauses like

"You do not eat whats left?" And godrick is like "...............afraid not. 😀" and cedric is like "how interesting! 🤔 ill admit, they dont taste as good as demigods do!" And godriick just grows more distressed like 😃‼️ and ced catches himself like "no worries, brother. I wouldn't ever eat you! :]"

Yeah, blorbo over, for now, LOL

[123pixieaod]

Wip game! Hmm…how about “why” or “hold”

Aww hi Isabel!!! Thank you so much for the ask, and because I literally have a graveyard of WIPs, I ignored the "or" and pretended it was an "and"😂💖

Why

from a timetravel Maxiel AU. Scene taking place in the aftermath of this absolutely wild 2016 Red Bull x American football video

Man, why you gotta go back to racing cars?! One of the guys had announced, and they had all laughed, and Daniel had laughed along, beaming so hard his cheeks ached.

“I think if I wasn’t an F1 driver, I could do American football,” he says aloud, leaning his head back against the cool wall. He doesn’t want to get changed yet, to shed off the padding and the jersey and return to his nondescript jeans and Red Bull jacket. He doesn’t want to return to his life, not just yet.

“You were very good,” Max says, sitting on the wooden bench. He still won’t look at Daniel, instead frowning as he tries to undo the shin protection.

“Want me to help?” Daniel offers, but Max shakes his head, tugging hard enough it comes free.

“I think it would be fun to be in a sport when you have a team,” Daniel continues after a beat, thinking aloud. His voice is rough, strained from all the shouting. “Doing it with those guys today, you know? Just seeing them together, and I think I could be friends for life with them too if I was on a team.”

“You are already on a team,” Max mutters. Daniel looks at him, but he now has his back to Daniel. His jersey is already pooled on the floor beside him, and Daniel watches as he slips out of the shoulder pads, revealing an expanse of pale, perfect skin. He can see a hint of muscles, the trapezius muscle rippling as Max lowers the shoulder pads to the bench with surprising gentleness.

“What was that?” Daniel asks after a beat too long.

“I said you already have a team,” Max repeats, turning around. Daniel forces himself to just stare at Max’s face, but Max is pointedly not looking at him. Instead he’s picking up his gym bag, rummaging through it with knitted brows and thin lips.

“I -“ And then Daniel exhales a laugh. “Of course I do Maxy. But it’s different. My teammate isn’t on my side. My teammate is trying to do better than me and win,” he tries to remind him but thinks it comes off patronising and waits for Max to flare up.

“I’m always on your side,” Max says simply, and the words alone somehow wipe Daniel’s mind clean empty. He just stares at Max, the softly spoken words ringing in his ears as loud as the men’s chants and cheers from the afternoon.

________

Hold

Taken from a wip where Max has autism

Daniel looks back at him. He’s holding his phone, brightness turned all the way down, but it’s still the only light between them now. It lights his face in an unnatural hue, cold and almost blue. Max thinks he loves Daniel. His chest hurts with it, the unexplainable emotion he feels and can’t contain for this man.

“What do you mean Max?” Daniel says with a frown.

He shakes his head. Even though he started this conversation, he suddenly doesn’t want to finish it.

“Forget it Dan,” he says, rolling back onto his side, back to Daniel. His shirt twists but Max doesn’t bother to straighten it out. He just wants to sleep.

Daniel is quiet for a few beats, and then Max feels the ghost of a hand skim his arm. It’s strange, because with everything else in life Daniel acts as if he is Midas. He revels in it, the act of physically touching another. Hugs, fist bumps, handshakes, kisses. He touches everything with a reckless abandonment; everything other than Max. Max isn’t sure what he should make of these gentle touches, uncertain brushes of fingertips.

When Max doesn’t react, Daniel gently grips his arm, tugging Max so he has to roll onto his back, return to Daniel. He looks up, tracing the frown with which Daniel regards him with.

“You know you’re one of my favourite people, don’t you Max?” He says, voice in almost disbelief at the concept Max doesn’t already know.

[krethes]

10 lines, 10 works!

Finally getting around to this after the tags, thanks @aqua-myosotis, @tracingpatternswrites , and @mundrakan !

Here are the opening lines to my 10 most recent fics, in order of most recent:

A yearning, profound (a love, unbound)

"You're fucking kidding me. [...]"

(Wolfstar, 3.9k, Mature, complete)

(K)not for Me

Oliver's not perfect.

(Perciver, 6.5k, Explicit, complete)

One More to Love

"I'll kill him."

(Wolfstarbucks, 114k, Explicit, WIP)

Meet Me in the Daylight

Harry knew something was wrong when the Patronus swan appeared in the kitchen, pale and nearly noncorporeal, its elegant form disrupted and fuzzy at the edges.

(Drarry, 6.2k, Explicit, complete)

Neon Moon

The Neon Moon was a poorly-kept secret, like Vegas’s seemingly thousands of “speakeasies”.

(Wolfstar, 33k, Explicit, WIP)

Wherever flames may rage

“You’re kinda reaching for low-hanging fruit there, aren'tcha, Sirius?”

(Wolfstar, 9.9k, Explicit, WIP shorts)

Seeing the Light in the Darkness

All Hope wanted for her son was to be happy and loved, to be able to make friends like any other boy.

(Hope Lupin, 2.5k, Teen, complete)

to bind us to the earth

When he looks at me, I feel, for the first time, like the most important thing in the room, to which no jewel or tapestry or silver goblet can compare, no dignitary or Ministry official or Order of Merlin can compete.

(Lucissa, 2k, Mature, complete)

Proof of Life

"Moony, put me out of my misery. It's time. I've had a good run."

(Wolfstar, 2k, Explicit, complete)

a tiny, insignificant thing

Scintillating, hair-raising, the predator’s breath ghosts along his neck, eliciting a deep, primal flight response with the subconscious, aching desire for more.

(Wolfstar, 15.3k, Explicit, WIP shorts)

Tagging blindly and randomly across the alphabet, because I'm not super active on Tumblr lately 😂

@sliebman10, @r33sespieces, @neondomino, @impishtubist, @fvckyouimaprophet, @lqtraintracks, @quietlemonhush, @greyeyedmonster-18 @mabeltothknows, @second-sister

[shadowydonutperson]

@soaps-mohawk

This is Quinten (my OC)

She is a Mortem Omega.

Mortems are not aggressive and violent unless they are threatened or if they are provoked.

They rely on their animalistic brain, therefore they can smell the slightest bit of adrenaline and cortisol (stress hormone).

The kill instinct is there and will kick in if their mates, pack members, or if they are threatened or in danger.

Only allows trusted and bonded pack members in their nest. Is a mother cat to other omegas especially if the omegas are unbounded, and very nurturing to pups (children).

Can create a brotherhood/sisterhood bond with other omegas for both unmated and mated omegas.

(Unless she loves them romantically.)

Due to their instincts they do unfortunately get euthanized if they ever show their animalistic side.

Libido is extremely high when she is in heat and non heat cycles.

Can follow an Alpha's commands, and also be submissive to them.

(basically she can do just anything that an Omega's biology makes them do.)

Her scent is Vanilla, orange, and cherry blossom.

Has thick curly brown hair.

Vibrant green eyes.

Pale skin.

Has freckles literally EVERYWHERE on her. (All natural.)

Short, curvy but physically strong.

Has ADHD.

Insomnia.

Night terrors.

Can pass out due to high blood pressure.

asthmatic.

Autistic. (Loud noises, heat, or bright lights in general.)

Sleepwalks. (Worse after anything horror), under stress (if she takes melatonin for it. Also can worsen it).

Her favorite color is Teal blue.

Her favorite animal is a red panda. She has a red panda squishmallow she has gotten as a courting gift from Soap, and a beaded bracelet from Ghost. She takes very much care of them.

She's a cuddler if she's able to trust enough. When that happens she'll squeeze herself in between Soap and Ghost because she can. (Her words.)

Ethnicity: Swedish

Languages she can speak: English, German, Swedish, (working on Spanish.)

She is 21 currently.

She is a Sagittarius.

DOB: December 18th.

5'2.

Loves kids, wants a few in the future. Fine with biological and adoption.

Last name is Classified for legal reasons and due to her Biological Status.

Has a necklace that had once belonged to her baby sister, a watch that had belonged to her baby brother that was gifted to him by their grandfather who was in the Army before his passing.

She never takes the necklace and the watch off unless she is deployed, showering, or sleeping.

Laswall and Simon knows about her status as an Omega and has proven to Simon that she isn't a weight to be dragged but an asset to the taskforce.

She is claimed by Simon as his Omega via Bite mark. (I forgot to add it in the drawing.)

She can pick up Soap (Johnny) and pick literally drop him. 😂

Her parents are an Alpha & Beta pairing, her (Dad's parents) Grandparents Beta & Beta pairing.

Mom: Alpha

Dad: Beta

Grandma: Beta

Grandpa: Beta

Younger sister: Beta (not presented)

Younger brother: Alpha (not presented)

Younger brother: Beta (not presented)

(All family members have passed)

Since she had scent blocker collars she was able to pass as a Beta and get her piercings and tattoos without an Alpha's or a Beta's permission.

Background: (TW: DEATH, ABUSE, MOMMY AND DADDY ISSUES)

Quinten is the first born out of four children. She was born in Visby, Sweden. As a child she had a loving Dad, and a neglectful Mom, after her mom had her younger siblings she became extremely emotionally abusive. Her father became distant after the younger ones were born.

Later her mom became physically abusive to Quinten and her siblings. Unfortunately she had to step in to take the hits, her "mom" would give them.

A year later her father owed a debt to some very sketchy people but unfortunately wasn't able to pay it off. Which caused these people to pay them a visit to the family.

A few weeks later when Quinten had gone to the store for some after school work as a janitor, (she had a scent collar that blocked off her actual scent allowing her to pass as a beta.) she came home late at night and smelled something extremely foul and cortisol (stress hormone) she knew something was wrong.

Her parents and siblings were long gone when she came home. She was 17 years old at the time.

Within the months of her 18th birthday she had enlisted in the Swedish Royal Marines for Women. (Idk what they call it there.) After paying for some very expensive scent blocker pills she had passed her training as a mechanic, Laswall had recommended Quinten to Price to TF141.

She is a gifted mechanic, her talent came from her Grandfather who was a Norwegian engineer in WW2 (before the invasion and takeover of Norway.) for the Allie forces and taught her when she asked him to. (Before her presenting age.)

She met the guys not long after the Taskforce was created, took a while for her to trust and bond with them. Which wasn't easy for some of them. (Ghost) At the time she kept to herself and never told them that she was an omega the whole time. Mostly because she had a history with abusive Alphas, and asshole Betas who treated her like shit solely because she was an omega.

Her having a pack was an odd thing for her to get used to. But still couldn't tell them what her rank really was yet.

Personality wise:

Keeps to herself, unless trust is formed. Intuitive when something or someone is sketchy or odd. An ambivert (introverted and extroverted). Very independent, does not like being told what to do unless for a reason. Knows what to say and how to approach it. Emotionally intelligent, either your biggest cheerleader or your biggest pain in the ass. (There's no in between. Big sister instincts.) Very sarcastic. Only throws hands when the situation calls for it, her words hurt more than her two hands. Dark sense of humor. Far more mature than her actual age. Very empathic. Basically FAFFO. A smartass. Has a colorful dictionary, (habit of swearing).

Likes: Rain, animals, poetry, art, chocolate Carmel candy, hockey, winter, Halloween, dubbed anime (how funny the English dub can get.) food, movies, winter.

Dislikes: Thunder, fireworks, heat, raw tomatoes, scrambled eggs, lace fabric, silk fabric, horror movies, cinnamon (the scent) pumpkin spice, (literally everything about it.)

Common sayings:

"Shut your face hole."

"My heart fell out of my ass.."

"It's hotter than Satan's ball sack."

"Well, shit."

"Bitch. 🖕"

"You good? Nope nevermind you're fine."

"I don't speak cuntanesse."

"Fucking whore..."

"Fuck off."

"Better find a way to leap through my window, bitch."

"Sir, yes sir."

"Negative, sir."

"Ma'am yes, ma'am."

"Negative, Ma'am."

"I don't know who pissed off Zeus, but he's not happy..."

"Älskling?" ("Loved one" in Swedish.)

"Gullet." ("Cutie" in Swedish.)

(Dr. Keller knows due to her access of the team's medical history files.)

Left (Quinten) and Right (YN)

A/N: I'll color this when my hand feels better.

[acaplaya-musings]

Voiceplay-adjacent Visuals: Man of Constant Sorrow

Geoff's cover of Man Of Constant Sorrow was uploaded on the 15th of April, 2023 (the birthday of one of my best friends actually - lucky them). Geoff says in the description of the video: "As great as the song is, I always felt like it needed a bridge, so I wrote one. I fully expect some haterade in the comments section for that, but I love you all anyway." As far as I know, he has received exactly zero (0) "haterade" in the comments section for it, and nor does he deserve any! The bridge is great, and so good that those who don't know the original song (like myself and a few of the reactors I've watched) could think that it was just part of the original song (and did in fact think that), and those who do know the original might think it's from a completely different song! (Like one or two other reactors I've watched).

But anyway, enough about the song (and Geoff's mind-boggling ability to just write new lyrics on a whim, apparently), time to talk about the visuals! Let's go!

This video was filmed at "Big Oaks Ranch", which you might recognise as being the same filming location of Geoff's video for Take Me Home Country Roads (which I skipped over I know), as well as Voiceplay's videos for Daddy Sang Bass and Billie Eilish In 3 Minutes!

(Also check out how warm/saturated this shot is!)

A rare occasion of giving each of the Backup Geoffs different outfits despite it not being a theatrical/majorly-story-based video! We got Blue Shirt Geoff (wearing a polo with none of the 3 buttons done up on it), Light Shirt Geoff (wearing what I think is a pale-green shirt, but I'm not sure, with the top two buttons undone), Black Shirt Geoff (surprise surprise 😝😂) (t-shirt, so no buttons to speak of), and Plaid Flannel Geoff (with at least two buttons undone at the top, and open enough that you can see his necklace on full display!)

(Also that reddish brown belt gets a decent bit of usage doesn't it? Same one as two of the Cowboy Geoffs were wearing in Ghost Riders I believe, and I think it's been worn in Sixteen Tons and/or Big Bad John as well?)

Appreciation for the way the camera panned down along the train tracks, then panned up to Geoff, feet to head. We stan (also full necklace spotted here too!)

Sir how does your hair do that, how is your hair so good that you're giving me hair envy? (For the record, I have long, orange, wavy hair, and yet I can't help but be allured by Geoff's hair sometimes! 😅)

Let's talk about "Hat Geoff" for a minute here, because he's clearly the protagonist of this video, but in an interesting and uncommon twist, he's not actually the lead singer in this video - Light Shirt Geoff is!

(Also I'm genuinely wondering if that's an actual photo that he's holding, and if so, what's on it? (knowing him, my bet is that it's a picture of Kathy/him and Kathy <3 ))

Fun fact: Geoff's "guitar-playing" in this video is mostly just him faking it; doing simple strumming and stuff like that. He can't actually play guitar - or not in the typical way at least. For most of the instrumental stuff in his covers, he uses some sort of plug-in that connects to an electric keyboard/piano, iirc.

(Also the strings are barely vibrating as he's strumming, and I don't think he's even holding a guitar pick. I can't play guitar either though so what do I know? 😅)

Well he certainly looks good with it at any rate! 😁

"I can feel it like a bullet, no matter where I tread,"

(On my list of "movements/gestures from a Voiceplay/Geoff that I replicate nearly every time I sing it to myself 😝"_

"All my days I have been running from these GHOSTS within my head!"

The flowers placed next to Geoff's hat here, are known as "baby's breath", and apparently they've long been used as a symbol of purity, innocence, hope, and new beginnings. Their inclusion in this video would not have been for no reason!

(Also maybe Geoff does know a little bit about guitar-playing? Based on the way he changes hand/finger position on the neck of the guitar).

To just throw in an E1 subharmonic like it's the simplest thing in the world, while looking this good... god it's almost too much!

Also a bit of a fan of Plaid Flannel Geoff though ngl 👀

Genuinely some lovely cinematography in this video! (And apparently a lot of that is because of Geoff as well! Although Layne often helps out with the Steadicam)

Neat!

And I feel like it would be remiss of me to not highlight Geoff's message to people at the end: 😁

"I should mention that the train tracks I was walking down were not in use! So please please please don't go walking down any train tracks near you - trains are big and strong, and you are soft and squishy." [pfft, a Very Important Message indeed!]

I enjoy Man of Constant Sorrow for the fact that for the majority of the song, I can stay pretty easily on key with it (though often a couple or so octaves higher, of course). And that bridge is really awesome, and I could not imagine the song without it!

Only got a couple more Geoff videos that I wanna talk about (at the time of me typing this, at least), but they are my two other favourite videos on his channel (other than Way Down), so be prepared for many more screencaps! Stay tuned!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don’t know if this is confirmed or not in the series but I heard this on egophiliac’s page apparently Idia is consider handsome enough that Vil is upset with Idia for not taking advantage of it. Sorry if this is just fan canon.

[Referencing this post!]

I don’t recall where exactly in the canon that happens (even after shifting through Idia’s vignettes and Ghost Marriage), but I do believe something similar to what has occurred between Vil and Leona (in Fairy Gala) and Vil and Epel (in episode 5 of the main story). I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Vil is disappointed with his other peers (like Idia) for not using the full potential of their looks. After all, Vil has a good eye for aesthetics, and he’s hard on everyone!

Idia is a weird case in terms of perceived attractiveness (from his peers, not by us, the fans). In the Magical Archives art book, it is noted that Idia has good looks that are overshadowed by his demeanor and dress style. So essentially, Idia CAN look good, but he usually doesn’t because he puts little to no effort in grooming and dressing himself well.

There’s such a large gap between Idia’s “true” handsomeness (which he chooses to not accentuate) and how he typically presents himself, so he’s not generally considered conventionally attractive like Vil, Leona, etc. by the people who know him (ie his classmates). Even Crowley doesn’t think of Idia as someone that would attract the attention of the Ghost Bride 😂 The opinions seem pretty polarized or divided... I guess this is a case of “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”?

Here are some examples of how Eliza perceives Idia vs how most of NRC sees him (in parentheses): Tall and slim (lean and gangly/skeletal), beautiful skin (pale as hell from rarely leaving his room), slanted eyes and charming smile (tired eyes, creepy smile and laugh), glimmering hair (the man’s hair is ON FIRE), lips that make you want to kiss them (blue sure is a unique natural lip color, huh)... though in Idia’s Suitor Suit vignettes, the wedding crashers compliment how he looks in his groom outfit. It truly depends on how you “spin” Idia’s traits, I guess 🤷‍♀️ cuz they can definitely go either way.

[mykneeshurt]

Haunted part 7

I’m back! Married and ready to rumble! I am actually a Price now too haha. I finally have the game which I spent like … 6/7 hours playing today 😂 I’m loving it!

Thank you to argella1300 on AO3 for the suggestion about the sunburn and lotion lmao, I loved it!

Warnings - smut tbh. Explicit smut. That’s it I think 😂 some fluff and angst

I can’t work out how to do a tag list it doesn’t work 😭 this isn’t proof read!!!

Part 8

A few days later you had been sent to Suez, in Egypt. A brief mission to intercept some stolen weapons, while you were waiting for Makarov to make his next move. Laswell was keeping Price updated. The plan was for the boys to raid the local Suez port, locate the weapons cache and return to base. Bish. Bash. Bosh.

The morning sun beamed in through the dusty windows of the small base you were situated on. You were in your room finishing getting ready when you overheard Gaz and Soap talking. ‘Soap, you’re not harder than the sun. You need to put on sun lotion.’ Soap snorted ‘Naw pal, I’ll be fine! I don’t burn.’ Hearing this absolute stupidity you grabbed a bottle of factor 50 and stormed down the corridor. ‘JOHN MCTAVISH!’ His eyes widened in fear as your voice boomed into his ear. Gaz and Price smirked and left out a laugh in unison. ‘You’ve fucked it now son’ Price laughed.

Rounding the corner you stood arms crossed glaring at the terrified solider. ‘If you come back burnt, so help me god I’ll slap you into next week. You’re pale as fuck of course you’ll burn! Our Celtic skin hates the sun you absolute dickhead. Put. This. On.’ Soap looked like a scolded child as he went to open his mouth. ‘Don’t. You. Dare’ you interrupted, ‘skin cancer is a leading cause of death. Wear it.’ Price and Gaz were stifling their giggles as John took the lotion from your hand. ‘That goes for you too’ you scowled looking over at Gaz and Price. ‘Yes ma’am’ they replied in unison.

Ghost walked in through the front door after preparing the jeeps for the journey. He was wearing tan cargo pants and a tan shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing his tattoo. ‘Fuckin boiling out there’ he muttered under his breath. He walked in to you staring down the rest of the team ‘alright?’ He questioned looking cautiously over to you. ‘Yeah, Soap just thinks he’s harder than the sun is all.’ You shot him a warning look out of the corner of your eye. Soap fake surrendered putting his hands in the air, still looking like a terrified child.

‘Anyway … ‘ Ghost continued ‘let’s move out. Meeting our contact in 30 minutes. Gaz you’re driving, Price upfront, me and Johnny will take the back.’ The three men nodded and filed outside, Ghost approached you and squeezed your wrist. You smiled up at him ‘be careful Simon. Please?’ He silently nodded before walking out.

As you glanced down you saw Soap had left the sun lotion on the table. That stupid fuck. Grabbing the bottle you barged past Ghost and launched the bottle full force at Soap. The bottle collided with the back of his head with a satisfying thump. Gaz and Price fell about laughing, trying to keep some composure before going on the mission. ‘Don’t fuckin try me John! I ain’t dealing with you like last time!’

The last time being when you were in Mexico on a stakeout, Soap and Ghost had gotten horrendously sunburnt, burns and blisters on their arms. It was cloudy out and they didn’t listen to your warning of the high UV index that day. They both came back with crispier skin than the chickens at KFC. They needed inadine patches to help the skin heal and the open sores to be cleaned regularly. Which of course meant more work for you, you gave them a huge lecture on sunburn and the dangers of it. Ghost took it on board, Soap however clearly did not.

It took weeks to heal and they both moped around base grimacing in pain every time they saw you. Soap tried to avoid you as much as he could, petrified you’d show him the pictures of sunburn again. ‘McTavish! Sit your ass down and look at these. This will be your skin if you don’t apply lotion. I’ve told you time and time again to wear it. You’re a pain in the fuckin neck.’ It took all of your restraint not to slap his sunburn to teach him a lesson.

Soap rubbed the back of his head, a red patch forming already. ‘Fuckin hells bells woman! You need to be on a rounders team with an arm like that.’ Laughing to yourself Ghost came up behind you ‘could you not concuss my Sargent before the mission? He’s useless as it is.’ Soap shot his head around ‘aw come on now Lt. I know you’ve got a soft spot for me.’ Ghost rolled his eyes before walking over the the jeep and sliding in next Soap.

Over the next few hours you caught up on paperwork of minor injuries you had to deal with. Ready to put onto their clinical notes back at base. You cleaned your Glock 17 and timed yourself taking it apart and putting it back together again. Determined to beat Ghosts time he set.

The boys retuned and filled you in on the operation, it actually went straightforward for once. A couple of scrapes and bruises but all in all nothing much for you to do. ‘Laswell found what she needed to?’ You asked Price tucking into your protein bar. ‘Just waiting for confirmation kid, Makarovs been seen back in Russia, fucker is working with Hassan. Known terrorist, who we also know is working with the cartel in Las Almas.’ Your eyes widened, Jesus, this was extensive. ‘Christ, back to Mexico I take it then?’

‘Yeah, meeting up with Shadow Company. They’ll be assisting us with finding Hassan, and in turn Makarov.’ Price rubbed his beard as he spoke, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Evac tomorrow at dawn, get your heads down. Got a hell of an operation a head of us.’

1 week later

You sat in your new clinic at Alejandro’s base in Las Alma’s, Alejandro is the leader of Los Vaqueros. Smooth talker and passionate about protecting the people who live there. Rodolfo, the cutie that he is, is Alejandro’s right hand man, served with each other for 20 years. They looked after you and got you what ever you needed.

There was a knock at the door, turning round your eyes lit up seeing Ghost stood at the door. ‘Hey’ you said quietly, offering him a small grin. ‘We’ve got a hit on Hassan, heading out tomorrow. Just waitin’ for Graves.’ Your smile soon dropped. You hardly spent any time with each other since the night you spent together. Part of the job you guessed, but it still got you down. You walked past him and shut the door, locking it. ‘What you doin’?’ He asked puzzled. You leant on your door with your hands behind your back and bit your lip. ‘I don’t know when I’m gonna see you next. This operation is huge. I have you here and now, I’m making the most of it.’

You slinked over to him and slid your hands down his arms. You inhaled his scent, musky and clean, grabbing hold of his wrists you stroked his skin peeking out between his sleeves and gloves. He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. Your touch always managed to break down the walls he kept up, ever so slightly. It offered him some grounding from the never ending storm that consumed his mind. He cupped your face, and studied your eyes, your beautiful eyes. ‘I’m comin’ back’ he said gently. Tears began to stab the back of your eyes ‘I’ll hold you to that Riley. I like havin’ you around.’

He pulled you into him and encased you in his arms, you both stood like this for some time. He placed a masked kiss on your forehead, ‘I take it you locked the door for a reason?’ You smirked and looked up at him, giving your best doe eyes. ‘Maybe.’ With that he pulled up his mask to his nose and swooped onto your lips. He forced his tongue inside of your lips, both tongues fighting for control. Teeth clashed together in the fierce mess of desire that was your kiss. Struggling for breath you pulled away, adrenaline surging through you.

Fumbling with his belt, you eventually undid it before undoing your own. ‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so needy’ he mumbled into your ear. ‘Shut up Simon.’ You slid your hand into his trousers and grazed the tip of his hard cock, eliciting a gritted hiss from him. ‘On your fuckin knees’ he growled as he pulled your hair. Doing as he wished you sank to your knees, maintaining eye contact with him. Shimmying his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock you placed a tender kiss on the tip. He cupped your jaw and caressed it with his thumb.

Taking him into your mouth he threw his head back, a guttural moan building in the depths of the chest. You swirled your tongue around his shaft before you started bobbing your head. Setting up your own rhythm you dig your nails into the material of his trousers. The length was perfectly perfect, but he was thick. Placing his hand on the back of your head he pushed you beyond your limit. Gagging noises filled the room, tears pricked your eyes as you fought for breath. The familiar taste or pre-cum slid down your throat as he let out desperate breaths. Spit adorned your chin as you tried to keep up with his demanding pace. Seemingly knowing you were reaching your limit he pulled out and stood you up, licking the drool of your chin. ‘Atta girl.’

He backed you up against the counter and lifted you onto it with ease. Yanking down your trousers he pulled one leg free and hooked it around his waist. He spat into his hand and cupped your already soaking cunt. ‘Fuck, so wet already.’ You moaned in reply, the feel of his fingers on your swollen clit felt like ecstasy. ‘Just fuck me’ you moaned into his mouth kissing him, ‘please. Need you so bad.’ He lined himself up at your entrance and slid himself in with ease. You pulled him into your neck groaning into his ear as he peppered your neck with kissed. His hips slammed into yours, the feel of your wet cunt around his cock made him pick up his pace. He found your collarbone and bit into it, ‘fuck Simon.’ You grasped at the back of his neck trying to steady yourself. ‘So … tight … fuck’ he moaned into your neck. ‘Harder Simon, f … faster, please please please.’

Your needy begs were making him come undone, the whimper in your voice drove him to the edge. He was so close but he refused to finish until you did. He placed your hand on your clit ‘show me, show me what you do when you think of me’ he demanded. You rubbed firm circles onto your clit, instantly you felt your stomach tightening. ‘God I’m so close Simon’ you panted. ‘Good girl, keep goin’ for me, wanna feel you come.’ He pulled you closer by your hip, bruise marks were certain, but the thought of him marking you excited you even more. You slammed your forehead against his chest to muffle the moans, your other hand cradled the back of his head. ‘Come for me, that’s it come on my cock.’

The building orgasm was becoming unbearable, the coil in your stomach was so close to snapping. A flurry of begs left your mouth as he he whispered filthy praise into your ear. Finally it snapped, your moans bordered on sounding possessed as he slammed his cock into you. ‘Where?’ Almost immediately you answered ‘come in me Simon, please, I wanna feel you.’ He pulled your head back by your hair ‘you’re a fuckin filthy bitch’ he groaned as he slammed his lips into yours. Kissing you he came as he moaned into your mouth. His come filling you up, leaving you feel completely satisfied.

As he pulled away the sudden realisation of what he’d done had set in, his widened as he looked at you. Knowing instantly what he was thinking you cupped his jaw and laughed ‘I’m on the pill, don’t worry.’ He relaxed into your touch as he pulled out, watching the mess he’d made slip out of you. ‘In that case, can’t waste it can we?’ He used two fingers to push his cum back into your freshly used cunt. The sudden overstimulation took you by surprise, yelping in surprise. ‘Fuuuuuck Simon.’ Your eyes rolled back as you bit your lip.

As the wave of pleasure slowly dissipated you were met with Simon staring at you. ‘Yes?’ You smiled. He leant in and kissed you again before tucking the stupid strand of hair behind your ear. ‘Man of many words aren’t you Riley?’ You teased. But you knew he struggled to say how he felt, so you’d take his gestures of affection. Actions speak louder than words so they say.

After he helped you clean yourself up he held your hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘Come back to me Simon’ you repeated ‘please.’

‘Can’t leave you lookin after Soap on your own can I?’ You snorted, he was like your child, especially with the type of banter you had between you. ‘No, you absolutely cannot. I’ll kill him.’ Ghost stood and placed one more kiss on your forehead ‘We’ll update you when we can love.’ Nodding you watched as Ghost left your room, sadness weighed heavy upon you. This was a huge mission before them. You knew they were more than capable, all of them. They were your boys.

Ghost couldn’t cope with all the emotions he was feeling because of you. His mind was screaming at him not to carry on with you. To break your heart and stay away from each other. But his heart wanted you, wanted some happiness, wanted something his mother would be proud of. The last happy memory he had was of hugging his mother. But he felt he didn’t deserve happiness, he was a killing machine, cold, somewhat psychopathic. He didn’t deserve you, your touch, your smile, your warmth. He deserved to feel the way he feels because of everything he’s done. But your presence never left him, never left his mind, his thoughts. He couldn’t shake how you affected him, how much he needs you. You completely and utterly haunted his mind.

[cs-fox]

DEEP COVER | FEM! READER X KÖNIG PART 2

TAGGING @werschitz !!

warnings 4 this 1, it's a little suggestive, but i stayed away from any actual 18+ stuff.

if you want that from me, just ask ig 😂

requests r open as well if u like my work <33 i'd love 2 hear any ideas !!

read part 1 here

______________________________________________________________

Your POV

Two weeks into your mission, you’d been widely accepted into your new role as an assassin for hire - working under Tenebris.

They had sent you on a few meaningless assignments, all of which you completed with no issues. They varied from distribution to punishment - needless to say, with your training, you excelled.

The lord of the operation was glad of you, often inviting you to high-end bars for parties, which you accepted, hoping for a window to open where you could gather some, any, intel.

Which you found - almost too easily.

Codenamed “Sovereign” by KorTac, one of the leading operators of Tenebris, had taken quite a liking to you. Often you found yourself in his company - and more often, he was drunk, with a loose mouth.

From these late-night conversations, you gleaned some information - these narcos had ties to the South American Military, along with an obscure Russian operation, the operating base you had arrived to was but a facet of their operation. Sovereign had slurred out that he’d even met some figures of interest that appeared on KorTac’s watchlist, using them for covert operations associated with their ghost supply of money, and untraceable distribution tactics.

This man seemed to trust you with his life, at least while he was drunk.

There was only one problem - he was sending you on continually more demanding assignments. Slaughtering the mercenaries that had been giving his operation trouble - and capturing their colonel.

Your colonel.

König.

Hier wird es kompliziert.

This is where it gets complicated.

Upon seeing König’s reaction to your position, Sovereign would know of your situation. He would put you in a dilemma - it was easy to foresee that. He would ask you to kill Colonel König, or face death.

You’d have to figure out that obstacle when it arose.

König’s POV

His team had received a strong lead on the drug operation that they were tracking. Seven men had been holed up in an apartment building for four days, waiting on orders, only to be told that the group they were chasing was five floors below them.

König paced constantly, checking his rifle at least ten times before he gave up and announced they’d be leaving in fifteen minutes. Horangi seemed to be the only man without a pale face, and König appreciated that.

Because the way his stomach was churning, he wasn’t sure if his team would make it out alive.

Two hours later, his team was elbow-deep in blood and cocaine, wading through the few men that tried to oppose them with AK-47s. With quick, concentrated fire, they all fell.

But before König could even register what was happening, he was face-to-face with the verdammt Füchsin fucking vixen who’d given him so much strife.

She was wearing a black mask, the same as her fellows, to hide her identity - but König would know those eyes anywhere.

He was about to roar to his men orders that would only result in her death when he felt a thudding pain on his plate carrier. He whipped around, hissing, only to end up with his ass on the ground and with a gun pointed to his head.

And her hand was wrapped around the grip.

His team paused, unsure what to do. Unfortunately, König didn’t get to find out much of what happened next, because his vision went dark, and in the last few moments he was conscious, he felt his huge body slam down onto the floor.

König came to in a bright room. Sunlight filtered down from huge windows, obviously the person who lived here was rich.

The person in question sat in a plush-looking recliner, with a man wearing mismatched tactical gear on each side. But there was a figure kneeling in front of him - she’d shed her mask, and that face was all too visible. That face…

For a second - König was sure he hadn’t imagined it - her eyes softened. Worry? Sympathy?

He wanted to grab her and slam her to the ground, for what she’d done. 

Verdammte Schlampe!

Fucking bitch!

He felt far too groggy to move, though.

She stood up, calling something out to the man seated. He stood up, and walked over to her, placing one hand on her waist.

Anger bubbled, hot and intense, in König’s gut.

That - she - was his.

Wie konnte er es wagen?

How dare he?

König surged to his feet, disorientation forgotten in the moment. The mercenaries jumped forwards, protecting their leader, but König paid him no mind as his hands found his lieutenant’s collar.

He towered over her, yanking her close to him. 

‘You verdammter Verräter!’ fucking traitor!

She trembled, which made a wicked feeling of pride arise in König’s lower stomach. He hissed a breath out over her uncovered neck, so he could feel her shudder at the feeling, before throwing her away. To his disappointment, though, she barely stumbled, breathing uneven.

Their ringleader smirked, and two words fell from his lips which made König’s blood run cold.

‘Kill him.’

Anger flashed in her eyes, but she drew her sidearm. König took a step back, but before he could so much as brace himself, the two mercenaries fell to the floor with muffled thumps.

The leader stumbled, fear etching his features, before a bullet was put through his skull to match his soldiers.

König spun around, with the full intention of grabbing her once more, but she held up a hand.

‘Do you have exfil waiting? Can you call it in?’

König clamped his teeth together.

‘Yes.’ he ground out.

‘Come on.’

As König’s team piled into the black Land Rovers that had been called in for a hot exfil, he dragged his Füchsin vixen beside him, ensuring they were in the same vehicle. She ended up crammed in between Horangi and himself; panting and sweaty akin to all of the other soldiers along side them.

Horangi looked ready to explode; the fierce anger burning in his irises told König as much. His hand was resting on his knife from the second he noticed their mole would be in his vehicle.

König gave him a hard look, before turning to the woman in between them.

‘Explain yourself, schatz.’ darling.

Your POV

The drive back to the airport was hellish.

What with König breathing down your neck, Horangi glaring daggers in your direction, all on top of the other soldiers giving you a wide berth.

You had explained to König during the trip of your position’s deep cover, telling him that you were the one supplying intelligence on Tenebris.

Most still seemed skeptical, but you could tell from the look in König’s eyes that he wanted a whole lot more from you than just an explanation.

Once your team had boarded the plane, you endured the five hour flight back to base with only one little issue - König sat next to you, under pretence of “keeping an eye on her”, but you really guessed he was just trying to get you hot and bothered. If he thought you’d forgotten the interesting sort of relationship you both were in even before you left, he was sorely mistaken.

Every so often, his thigh bumped yours - he didn’t apologise, not once, instead opting to lock you with a stare that was hard to decipher.

The fifth time, he didn’t move his leg away; you could feel the taut muscle underneath his pale fatigues pressed up against your own thigh; which was clothed in dark canvas.

You forced your eyes to stay trained on the window, gazing out at the earth below; not giving him the satisfaction, until you heard a deep, rich voice to your right.

‘Look at me, schatz.’ darling.

You considered disobeying for a few seconds, but the feeling of his leg pressed dangerously firmly against yours made you give in. König chuckled darkly when your eyes met his.

‘You know, meine liebe, I could not stop thinking about you while you were away.’ my love.

You swallowed thickly. That accent - that husky, viscous accent that made your mind turn to pulp - never failed to make that heady rush of desire make it’s home embarrassingly low in your stomach.

‘I - miss me that much, hm?’ you tried for a smooth reply, but the way your stomach twisted made it come out much less attractive.

König leaned in, the dark curtain of his mask draping itself over your shoulder. You could see the wicked amusement in his eyes.

‘Ja.’ Yes.

‘You do not know,’ he murmured, voice dripping with innuendo, ‘Wie ich deinen Geschmack vermisst habe, Liebes.’ how I missed your taste, love.

You shivered, it was like ice sliding down your spine, but you liked it.

‘Sag mir, wie viel.’ 

Tell me how much.

That was all he needed - you knew from the amused rumble that seemed to echo from the depths of his throat.

‘Ich konnte dich nicht aus dem Kopf bekommen, Liebling. Ich habe an dich gedacht, als ich trainierte, als ich aß, als ich... im Bett lag...'

I could not get you out of my head, darling. I thought about you when I trained, when I ate, when I… lay in bed…

His words went straight to your core, and you felt it almost immediately - the uncomfortable heat between your thighs you couldn’t quite shift away from, the dampness spreading through your layers of clothing.

‘Ich habe vermisst, wie du dich um mich herum gefühlt hast,’ he whispered, voice sweet and heavy, like chocolate; melting on your boiling hot skin. ‘wie süß du bist…’

I missed how you felt around me, how sweet you are…

You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, letting your fingers trail down to rest - only allowing him a feather-light touch - on his upper thigh.

‘I knew you’d be all riled up,’ you purred, now tracing little circles with your fingertips.

König made that rumbling noise once more, the one that turned your bones to putty.

He held up four fingers, four minutes, and stood up, walking slowly down the aisle of the jet plane to the bathrooms.

You smiled to yourself, checking your wristwatch. Three minutes, twenty-seven seconds, and he’d no doubt make you forget your own fucking name at thirty thousand feet.

______________________________________________________________

part 3 ???

enjoy x

[munsons-maiden]

Ummmmmn can we get another hair braiding drabble i am begging!!! Maybe reader or loki is sick, or upset and crying so the other braids their hair and it ends with a kiss

Omg YES ♡ I could write whole essays about Loki’s hair so here you go, nonnie! Thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy! 😁🖤 (it started out as a drabble but escalated into a whole oneshot 😂)

𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Loki x gender neutral reader (no hair type/colour is given apart from that the reader's hair is long enough to be braided) 

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 |  see above 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 |  You calm Loki after a nightmare, which turns into a hair-braiding session.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 |  a little bit of angst in the beginning and then only lots of fluff 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 |  1.6 k 

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 |  a little bit of angst in the beginning and then only lots of fluff  

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡  

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝🖤 

You were roused from your sleep by a quiet whimper, and for a few heartbeats as your mind untangled from Morpheus’ gentle grasp, you thought you’d just dreamed it – until it sounded through the bedroom once more, and you realized it was Loki, crying in his sleep beside you. Your heart bled for him as you shuffled closer. Silver moonlight spilled through the open window to tint the room in its pale glow, painting shadows over the sharp lines of Loki’s handsome face. The look of serenity and innocence he usually held in his sleep was gone, his eyes squeezed shut as tears streamed down his cheeks, leaving glittering tracks on his pale skin before dripping into the tousled dark strands of his hair which spilled all around his head like a dark crown.

“Loki,” you said softly, leaning on one elbow while you gently cupped his face with your free hand, and his eyes flew open with a sharp gasp, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Sssshh, it’s okay,” you murmured, letting your hand travel up the side of his face to brush a few stray strands of hair away which had been plastered to the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and you could feel the tug of affection in your chest as he instinctively leaned into your touch.

“I killed her,” he whispered on a half-sob. “I killed her.”

You could feel a lump forming in your throat as you watched the fresh tears running down his cheeks, the expression on his lovely face contorted with a pain sharper than any physical injury could cause.

You didn’t need to ask who he was talking about, who he was still mourning in his sleep. He’d told you how his mother had died. That he was the reason she was dead. It was the same nightmare haunting him in his sleep, the same horrid dream which woke him every so often.

“You didn’t know she would be there, Loki.”

“It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t bring her back. It doesn’t make me less responsible.”

You wanted nothing more than to take the pain from his heart and make it your own instead, to dry his tears and soothe the grief still burrowed in his soul, and it broke your heart every time to know that you couldn’t.

“Come here,” you commanded softly, sitting up, with your back resting against the headboard of the bed, and patted your lap. Loki complied, shuffling closer until the back of his head was resting on your thighs, and he glanced up at you with tears glistening in his beautiful eyes, the blue of his irises painted a silverish hue by the moonlight.

Gently threading your fingers through the glossy black strands of his hair, smoothing them out around his head with slow movements, you asked, “Will you tell me about your mother?”

A sad smile ghosted over his lips, and with his eyes fluttering close at the calming sensation of your fingers playing with his hair, he began to murmur, “When I was little, I hated my hair. People always used to say that Thor’s hair was like sunlight spun into gold. Just like Odin’s, and Frigga’s. And my hair was black like pitch. I never felt like I belong, and my hair was another constant reminder that there was something different with me. One day, I asked my mother if she could show me how to change its colour with magic. To make it look like Thor’s golden hair. I remember her face when I spoke the question. She smiled at me and said ‘Your hair is beautiful as it is. Just as beautiful as Thor’s.’”

Loki paused, chuckling half-heartedly. “I insisted that she only said it because she was my mother, that my hair was ugly and I wanted it to look like Thor’s, and I will never forget her reply. She told me, ‘If you spend your time trying to be like your brother, you will lose yourself in the process. And even if you think it doesn’t matter, it matters to me. Your hair is beautiful, and it belongs to you. You’re my little raven.’ She always called me her little raven after that day.”

You were having a hard time suppressing the tears stinging your eyes, and your hands briefly left their place in Loki’s hair to tenderly swipe away his own tears which were still running down the sides of his face.

“She was right,” you breathed, “Your hair is beautiful. So much more beautiful than Thor’s. And I’m glad you never changed it.”

Loki gave you a wistful smile, brimming with affection. “My mother would have loved you. I know she would have.”

There were a few beats of easy silence, before Loki murmured, “I love it when you play with my hair. I’ve never let anyone touch my hair because it’s so…” He drifted off, searching for the right words, before he finished, “Intimate.”

You smiled, gently running your hands through his soft curls once more, watching how the dark strands threaded around your fingers, before you began to braid them, watching as Loki’s eyes fluttered close while he relished your touch, the sensation of you playing with his hair. His expression was calm once more, the lines of worry and grief smoothed out by your tender touches. The two of you had been together for a while now, and still you couldn’t help but marvel at his beauty, stealing your breath just like it had the first time you’d laid eyes on him.  

“I can feel you staring,” he mused, eyes still closed and the ghost of his usual mischievous smirk playing on his lips, “But go on. Admire me. Worship me.”

“Just when I thought how lovely and peaceful you looked,” you quipped with a smirk of your own, continuing to weave his silky raven strands into a little braid to resemble a crown adorning his head.

“Done!”, you chirped with a little grin, and Loki raised his hand in the air, a small mirror appearing in his grip in a flash of green, and he raised his eyebrows at the sight of his reflection.

“What in the Nine Realms is that?”, he asked.

“A braid.”

“It looks as if a bird has built it,” he snickered. “A very drunk bird.”

“I never said it was a pretty braid.”

Loki sat up, and now you couldn’t suppress your own little giggle. It really resembled a bird’s nest.

“You would be the worst handmaiden,” Loki commented.

“As if your braiding skills were any better than mine, you spoiled prince.”

He only chuckled mischievously, sitting beside you and patting the mattress between his legs in a silent request.

“What do you want to do?”

He smirked. “I’ll show you how a pretty braid looks like.”

You snorted, but shuffled to sit between his legs, and Loki gathered your hair before he began to carefully part it into strands. A contented sigh spilled from your lips at the sensation of Loki’s gentle hands combing through your hair.

“I didn’t know you could be this competitive when it came to hair-styling skills,” your teased softly, drawing a low laugh from him, before he replied tenderly, “I didn’t think love would come in the form of a braiding contest in the middle of the night, but I’m being proven wrong. Just as you will be about my braiding skills in a few minutes, my love.”

You just hummed in reply, relishing the feeling of Loki braiding your hair, the calmness flooding your soul at the loving touches. You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed like this, lost in the sensation, the gentle tugging at your hair, his fingers threading through the strands, until Loki chimed up, “Ha!”, startling you out of this peaceful drowsiness which had settled over you.

In a flash of green, the little mirror appeared once more, and Loki gleefully held it in front of you so you could see your reflection. Your mouth fell open at the sight.

“Oh goodness,” you breathed. He hadn’t just woven your hair into a simple braid, but into an intricate hairdo making you look like some mystical fairy creature stepped straight out of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Loki flashed you a triumphant grin in the mirror’s reflection, before he planted the softest of kisses on your exposed shoulder.

“I told you I could braid.”

“But…how?”

He closed his fist, and the mirror disappeared once more. You shifted, turning so you were facing him, and Loki explained, “Using magic, seidr, is all about weaving loose strands of magic into something else. A little bit like braiding. Learning to braid helps to guide your focus – weaving magic is a lot harder than that, but braiding hair is a good start to get a feeling for it.”

You could sense the wisps of sadness creeping into his heart once more at the memory, so your hands settled on his cheeks in a soothing gesture before you rested your forehead against his and whispered, “You know that from now on, you will always have to braid my hair, do you?”

Loki gave you a smile in return, filled with so much love that it made your heart sing, before he breathed, “Until the end of time, if you let me.”

With this, he leaned in to lock his lips on yours, a kiss so soft and sweet, filled with love and devotion and a gentleness Loki would never have thought himself capable of before he met you.

His mind flitted back to the words his mother had told him that day when he’d begged her to teach him how to change the colour of his hair with magic, to the words he had omitted in his story.

The parts you don’t like about yourself now will be the parts somebody will fall in love with one day. And they will teach you how to love these parts of you as much as they do.

♡ 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫  𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠  (𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞  𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭)

♡ 𝐊𝐨-𝐅𝐢  

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝) 🖤:  

@boneheadduluc @spiderhostia @a-midwinter-night-dream-86  @zemosimp05 @justfangirlthingies @cazzyimagines @rumblelibrary @victias @justanothertruebeliver @chiptaylormybeloved @vverliebt @madhatter2727 @a-simp-recommends-fics @morphoportis  @superavengerpotter @savvywords @thatoneleoslytherin @clockblobber @jhawk608  @spooksgalore69 @paetonnn @chaosbringer566 @jesuisbenny @idkimjusthere23  @dirtytissuebox @sarahpaq08 @janetsnakehole02 @swimgirl5665 @wojciechovsk  @flawed---by---design @the-maroon-panda @charistory @lokiperfection @jen-w @i-l-y-3000  @spicy-acocado @fallinallinmendes @awkward-and-indecisive @whiskeywinter89  @cringingmemeries @osugahunnyicedtea @dead-mitochondria @littleone65  @theaudacitytowrite @marchingicenotes7 @palepurserebelcloud  @variant59 @lokistoriesblog @classicmarvelavenue  @confettucini @1marvelnerd3000 @gabewerk @huffpuff10 @pugcess  @wh0reforthemarauders @pictsiepanda @sititran @butterflyloki  @notyourfuckingbusinesss @damnzelsoul @itsybitchylittlewitchy  @that-one-girl-that-simps @psyc-hot-ic-gingers-kitten @extrodinary-disaster  @d1a2n389 @idkdude44 @kingtwhiddleston @glacial-snowflakes @glee-ghost

[giurochedadomani]

So I dub thee unforgiven

Billy's going to find a creepy ring who grants him every single one of his wishes… for a price. Eventual mungrove.

This reads like the most one sided hellcheer ever, and also I really needed a Chrissy wake up spooky death scene for plot related reasons. What I mean to say is @ sorry Chrissy, sorry Eddie, I promise I love you both, I'll write some hellcheer at some point to compensate 😂

I'm doing a very liberal mix between s3 & s4 with a creepy possessed ring instead of the Mindflayer and Vecna. The timeline of when which characters gets to know which other character is altered to fit the plot. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. I really wanted to hype myself up to do a longish fic instead of my usual word vomiting.

Enjoy

Chrissy dies from cardiac arrest on a cold spring night in 1984.

Or at least that's the official version.

--

“I’m going to miss you”

Chrissy’s pale as a ghost, shining like moonlight in the glade of the woods near the school. Eddie puts his cigarette out on the grass, under his boot, and tries not to feel disgustingly pathetic when she accommodates her head on his chest, his arm around her shoulders. “You’ll write”.

With her flowery cursive and her thousand markers collection, probably, during the first couple of weeks of her trip. Up until she meets someone cool during the summer holidays and consequently forgets about him, if Jason doesn’t sour her taste for rebelion first.

“I’ve told him about you”, oh, no, they don't need to have this conversation. He’d rather break his guitars into bite sized chunks than have this conversation— “He comes to me at night, you know”.

—which, gives him pause. He can’t quite picture Mrs. Cunningham being very welcoming of midnight visitors sneaking into the room of her precious Chrissy, even if said visitors turn out to be her perfect, beloved son-in-law. And anyway it’s hard to imagine Carver doing it, it’s not as if he has the imagination.

“Jason?”, and tenses when Chrissy’s hand. Sparks? He rubs it gently after a moment. Her ring feels almost scalding to the touch in contrast with Chrissy's freezing hand.

“He wanted to make me his, but I lied to him. Told him to wait. That we could trust you”, wait, what? He feels as if he lost the plot of the conversation five minutes ago. Cold sinks into his stomach like tap water, drops falling little by little until Chrissy grasps his hand, looks up at him with dull, black eyes and clarifies– “I came to say goodbye”– and he panics.

“Fucking hell—?!”

She stares at him with a beatific smile and a cold, dead grip crushing his knuckles.

“He wanted you, you see—”.

“Chrissy”, he shakes her. Then again, rougher, his heart at his throat. “You’ve got to stop, listen to me—”.

“He tried with my father, first, and my brother, and Jason. He won’t leave me alone until I give him someone, you understand”, Chrissy’s head lols when he shakes her, black eyes unseeing Eddie’s fingers when he snaps them in front of her. “But I couldn’t”, she giggles. “And I won’t”.

Every single fiber of his being is telling him to do— something. Run and get help— somehow. He tries to grab her under her arms, push her up to go— they need help, she needs help and she needs it now. Maybe he could drive her? She has to go to the hospital, she has to— see a fucking priest, or something, taking into account how her giggles have transformed into a screeching laugh that wrecks her body into convulsions until— “Chrissy, I swear to fucking God!”— she drops like an abandoned mannequin in his arms.

…

…

“Chrissy. Chrissy, wake up. Chrissy—”.

[leaveherwildliketheflowers]

Random things

Heavy periods remind me of the miscarriage and its triggering af, even all these months later.

My friends and I read our terot cards last night. I asked, "what does 2022 have in store for me" thinking that was vague enough that I could spin anything positively. My "challenge" for 2022 will be finding peace and love in my home and "where the year is taking me" is toward trials and despair that will leave me heartbroken. Needless to say I did not claim that, that's a BIG NOPE from me.

I told myself I would reach out to try to partner with a dietitian but I chickened out. I asked Hubs to hold me accountable and he hasn't brought it up (and to be fair probably forgot). I'm trying to do The Things™️ on my own and I'm doing ok sometimes but still struggling.

We had our friends over last night and I made dinner for everyone, which included a potato board. One of my favorite comedians will critique boards and its hilarious. So, I tagged him in a insta story posted of my board (Pic below) and asked him to rate it. He roasted me for not having bacon (which I KNEW he would do!) or liquid nacho cheese 😂 I know people think bacon is essential for baked potatoes but friends, I do not do bacon. I don't eat it, I don't cook it, and frankly I don't touch it. It massively grosses me out.

The girls and I used a Ouija board to talk to the 6 year old spirit that lives in my house that I have sworn I feel constantly and have seen shadows of but Hubs never believes me. Apparently she only follows me and has *choosen* to stick with me since I was 3 because she "loves" me. I'm not one to believe in ghosts and I'm sure there is a scientific explanation, but I swear I didn't move the planchette and it got so, so cold while we were "talking" to her. I asked questions that my friends would have never known the answers to and touched the planchette so lightly that I'm not sure how my subconscious could have moved it. Also, she would only respond to me. Creepy. My friends were so pale by the time we were done but I really enjoyed it.

Currently doing a puzzle and waiting for Hubs to wake up. I'm thinking a brunch date is in the cards today.

The potato board. Baked potatoes, butter, cheese, Greek yogurt (sour cream substitute, no one even noticed), salt and pepper, chips and dip. Really I just wanted an excuse to eat chips and dip because it's a delicacy I only allow myself have once every few years and I refuse to buy it for just myself.

[southsidestory]

First Watch

Ship: SasuSaku

Rating: Teen

Read on AO3 or FFN

— 

The border between the Fire Country and the Wind Country is stark and dry. Green hills flatten to brown savanna while leaves give way to sand. There’s nothing but open grassland for as far as the eye can see, so Team 7 makes camp in the middle of a defenseless plain, and Sasuke takes first watch.

Naruto is out within minutes, limbs sprawled and jaw slack. Sasuke sits with his back to Sakura and Kakashi, but he can feel the bright points of their chakra dulling as they slip into sleep. The shadows draw in around him, deep blue becoming true black, so dark that he can’t see past arm's length without activating his sharingan.

He wonders if the world looked something like this to Itachi, by the end.

Sasuke often falls asleep remembering his brother’s eyes, crying tears the same color as the sharingan. On nights like those, he jerks awake from his own private tsukuyomi, an ugly dream painted in red and black. The tears on his cheeks feel like blood every time, but the worst part is when he gets his bearings. Then reality sets in, and the truth is so much more brutal than his nightmares. He’s lost, weak, alone. Even now, Itachi is stronger than him. It doesn’t matter whether he’s a prodigy, murderer, rogue-nin, or ghost, his brother is always two steps ahead.

A rustling noise catches Sasuke's attention, and he turns, ready for a fight. It’s not an enemy ninja, though, just Sakura rolling over without waking. Sasuke sheathes his chokuto in one fluid movement, but he doesn't slide back into his lookout position. Instead, he watches his team.

Kakashi sleeps with deceptive laziness, one arm behind his head, a copy of Icha Icha Paradise open on his chest. Naruto somehow manages to be energetic even while passed out. He mumbles between thunderous snores, tossing and turning.

Nothing like Sakura, who’s perfectly still and quiet. She lies on her side with her head pillowed on her clasped hands, legs bent. Her features are softer in sleep, the mistrust she now wears around him smoothed away. She looks more like the girl he knew three years ago—the girl he left behind when he abandoned Konoha.

Sasuke used to think about her at night. Lying on a stiff mattress at one of Orochimaru’s outposts, surrounded by cold air and deafening silence, he’d remember the way she looked on that stone bench. Pale and motionless, with her dress slightly twisted around her knees, pink hair spilling across the grey concrete.

That memory came back to him again and again at strange moments. As he sliced through Orochimaru's pet projects, his sword alive with blue-white lightning. The first time he saw the curse mark spreading across Juugo's skin like some relentless disease. When Itachi delivered one final tap to his forehead, and Sasuke believed he was about to die, that was what flashed through his mind: Sakura, eyes closed, lying where he left her.

Now she’s just inches away. Close enough to touch—but still out of reach.

— 

Author’s Notes: This little fic was my very first SasuSaku story, which I posted to FFN way back in 2011! To be quite honest, it was absolutely dreadful. I’m trying to forgive myself for that because I was only twenty when I wrote it, and it would be pretty sad if I hadn’t grown as a writer over the last ten years. Anyway, I just edited it enough to be readable, and now that I’m no longer ashamed that the public has access to it, I’m finally cross-posting it here! 😂