#Gary Takes A Bath

[marclef]

Fake Pep looks like a very spongy fellow…

Like, you put that man in a bath and he’ll just soak up all the water like a sponge would do 🤔

well, the way i see it, Fake HATES being in water. it messes with his skin and makes him lose his form, so unless it's like, a real nice, comfy warm bath, it probably isn't too pleasant.

.... but, what he CAN do, drinking liquids doesn't hurt him, his insides are more "sturdy" and can absorb it better. so if he were to be put in, let's say, a container of sorts filled with water, he'd probably just try to drink all of the water in order to get it off of him.

something that Peppino unfortunately found out once while trying to get Fake to take a bath.

so... i guess he DOES work kinda like a sponge, in certain situations. Fake sure doesn't like doing it that much though... it takes forever to get all that water absorbed.

(featured: One Sopping Wet Bag of Goop (basically just a water bed at this point.))

[supervoltfan]

Pearl sounds totally kawaii! I'd defo hang out with her~ Flying Dutchman sounds HILARIOUS AF!!! I'm dying laughing!!!

If Spongebob characters Had Youtube Channels

Spongebob: hobby channel. most of his subs are his friends.

Patrick: shaky recordings of his life.

Squidward: His bad clarinet playing. only unironic subscribers are Spongebob and Patrick

Mr. krabs: two channels. krusty krab and another witch is like most old people on youtube.

pearl: my pretty seahorse analysist. one of the biggest channels here.

sandy: uploads country music. plus some life uploads.

plankton: banned.

Mrs. puff: also banned

Karen: doesn't upload.

MM&BB: havent uploaded sience 2011. and it was mostly trailers for shows/movies

larry: fitness channel.

flying Dutchman: screamers.

[xiaq]

Thanks for sharing the Trek fic recs! By any chance would you ever write a Trek fic? I would love to read your interpretation.

I need you to know that I got this ask 2.5 days ago and I have not known peace since.

The problem was that I read it right before taking Deacon for a hike, which meant I had over an hour to think about it, which meant I planned out a whole stupid story in my head and then when I got home I was going to make a little one shot post about “this is the fic I’d write if I had time” except then I just…didn’t stop writing.

So now I’m 3 chapters and 6k words in and after I eat something I’m getting right back to it.

I have not completed my weekend housekeeping or laundry. I have not been working on the actual novel my publisher expects me to finish within the next few months. I have not painted the library or finished wallpapering the kitchen or given Deacon a bath.

No, no. Because of this ask, I’m writing Star Trek fic. Something I haven’t done since I was in high school.

Tangentially, do any Trekkies want to beta for me? (It’s a hybrid Academy Era + Tarsus/Tarsus aftermath flashbacks AU featuring genius!Kirk, professor!Spock, and generally resigned Bones + highly amused Pike. Archer, Uhura, Sulu, Checkov, Scotty, Gaila, Gary, Amanda, Sarek, and the Tarsus 9 will be background characters. Also there’s an important original Vulcan character. And hijinks. And hurt/comfort. And esoteric faffing.) I’m estimating 50k words final, but you know me, could be double that.

[auspicioustidings]

You know how people call out to someone they trust when in the middle of a night terror/near death experience? Yeah, i dont see doll reader calling out to anyone in the 141, might not even remember the person they trust anymore just some random generic name like Emma or Nick or some shit so there isn't even enough to go on to try to track them down even if the 141 would let them

Not that they would, of course, at this point since readers their little doll now no one else's. It's just something that kinda needles at them, that when it came down to it doll didn't call out to one of their l big military guys to help but some fucker they can't even remember anymore

...not to be Zack Snyder but to really twist the knife I'd love that name to be significant. I want to say Gary, the man they couldn't save, specifically the man they couldn't save from the very same company that sent you.

While we are inserting old game characters into the reboot, let's shift it round a little. Gary was killed by the Shadows but he was taken first. They're not naïve, they know he would have been tortured to death and when they found his burned out body that was evident.

And it must be a coincidence that she knew someone called Gary, but they can't help but wonder just how long she had been with Philip Graves. It becomes an obsession, the idea of just how he broke her down to a doll. They hadn't really thought about it before because realistically they know they won't like the answer.

She's skittish around open water. She showers, but Gaz set up a romantic bath for his doll once and he saw the way panic seized her limbs before her brain just shut off, nothing left there but a doll. He knows what that means. He knows. He doesn't want to think about it.

Soap wants to play doctor and nurse with his toy. He waits until she is gone to throw up at how she reacted to him in a white coat, how she shook so violently at the sight of a needle. He took the jacket off, fucked her gentle, but he is not going to get the sight out of his mind.

For Price it's how she reacts to food. She hoards. She thinks he doesn't notice but he does, the only reason he doesn't "catch" her is because he is scared of how she will react. His little wife is conditioned to accept punishment, a raised voice and she is on her knees in a stress position, a burnt dinner and she puts herself in the little pantry, stays curled in the dark and cold until he tells her to come out.

Ghost knew from day one. He sees everything. If Roba had wanted him unmarked, he reckons it would have been far worse. Torturing someone while leaving them unmarred by it physically takes cruel creativity. Yeah he's a right bastard for accepting her as his slut, holding her down and unleashing all the violence inside of him, but he's helping the only way he knows how. She is never left unsure with him, she knows what he will give her and he never fucks with her head.

But even when they push the implications of how she acts away, when they try and work around it and not trigger memories in her, it still doesn't make her come to them for comfort. It is still Gary's name she calls to in fitful sleep.

[pinkthrone445]

PLEASE i think we all need a part two to wedding bells. please

-Wedding bells- Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Pairing: Gary x Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:love, hurt

Warnings:Mention of cheating , insults

Summary:I don't wanna spoil it because I think it's good the surprise reading this fic like this.

Sweaty bodies, heavy breaths, restless hands, and intertwined limbs. Your jaw ached and your tongue was tired trying to bring this woman to orgasm for the third time with your mouth. It had been a week and a half since the wedding and this was the fourth girl you'd slept with.

Her beautiful skin was soft, a beautiful color, her taste was like sweet chocolate, her voice was intoxicating, and her moans would make anyone desperate for more. But like all the previous women you'd been with, they weren't enough, never enough, they weren't enough to get the redhead out of your head, they weren't enough to replace her, they weren't enough for you, you just wanted her.

When the woman underneath you let out a very high scream, you came back to reality, the woman had wet everything, she squirted all over the place, your face and breasts included, something you should have been proud of, but nothing filled you, nothing made you feel better, nothing you did made you feel anything.

Carefully, you untangled your limbs from the woman you were with and got out of bed, your body completely naked, looking for a paper towel to wipe you off. You'd take a bath, but that wasn't your home and you didn't want to stay there any longer than necessary.

Recently you had decided to start dating whoever crossed your path, you weren't like that before, but nothing mattered anymore. The only thing you decided to do from the first day you started this, was to take care of yourself and use protection and never take them to your house, you always went to a hotel, a motel or their houses, never yours.

After you had cleaned yourself and washed your hands, you began to get dressed under the intense gaze of the woman you were with

-"Don't want to stay a while longer?" - The woman asked, still naked, from her bed. You didn't even remember her name and that was reason enough to realize that you shouldn't be there, less staying.

-"I'm sorry, I've got work early" - It was the only thing you answered before you grabbed your purse and walked out, listening to the woman tell you to call her latter, which you knew you wouldn't do it.

When you got home, you took a bath and kept drinking alcohol, trying to keep yourself in that state where you're not drunk, but also not conscious enough to think about your misery. After a few more drinks, you fell asleep in your bed. In the morning you felt miserable, as you had every morning since Mel had married him. You grabbed your purse, put on your best fake smile and drove to school.

It was still early for the kids to arrive, so you headed to the teacher's room to make yourself a strong black coffee that would make you feel at least a little more alive. A couple of animated voices were heard in the hallway, you would recognize them anywhere, even if you didn't see yet who they were, you knew that they were from Mel and Barbara, the love of your life next to the only person, besides Gary, who knew how in love you were with the redhead.

The two women walked into the break room, smiling at the sight of you, also grabbing their cups to make a coffee

-"Morning" - You whispered with your best fake smile, lately you were pretending to be happy so much, that you no longer knew how to differentiate your real smile from the fake one.

-"Morning hon. You're here early, did you fall out of bed?"-The redhead asked, smiling, and you barely laughed

-"I couldn't really sleep"- You answered and sat down sipping your coffee while looking at your phone. The two continued talking while preparing their coffee, a reflection hit your eyes and caught your attention, when you looked up, you saw that it came from the redhead's ring, which made you sigh sadly, you had made such a good choice, that ring looked perfect contrasting with her perfect skin

-"It's beautiful, don't you think?"-Melissa asked you when she noticed how you looked at the ring, you looked up looking into her eyes and smiled

-"Perfect..."-You whispered seeing her beautiful eyes, you didn't know if you were saying perfect to her or the ring. If only she knew that you were the one who chose her rings because her husband didn't really know anything about her and didn't make an effort or pay attention to her to really get to know her, you sighed and then looked away from her-"Are we going to meet tonight to review the students' plans? I bought a good wine and I was thinking of making some ricotta ravioli, is that okay with you?" - You asked hopefully, Mel was no longer yours, but you would make the most of every moment with her. The redhead sighed and shook her head with a sad smile

-"I'm not going to be able to, I have to do some things, sorry..."-She replied and you sighed, ever since Mel came back from her honeymoon with Gary, she was avoiding seeing you, you didn't know if it was because Barbara had told her what you had said to her on the wedding day or because Gary had talked badly about you, but it hurt you to see how she avoided to spend more time with you outside of what was necessary at school.

-"It's okay, don't worry, I can do it on my own"-You responded and got up grabbing your cup and purse to go to your classroom to finish breakfast by yourself.

At lunchtime you took out your lunch box, but honestly your almost zero appetite disappeared when you heard Mel talk about their honeymoon and how they had spent it together, how magical it was and all that, so you left the tupperware in the fridge again and made yourself another cup of coffee. Lately you weren't eating much, you weren't eating healthy either, you knew it would affect you at some point but you didn't care. When your coffee was ready, you grabbed the cup and headed to the school cafeteria to see the kids. Your disappearance from the teachers' room did not go unnoticed, the others looked at each other confused when you left but no one said anything, not even the redhead who was hurt to see your absence.

The next few days passed the same, you tried to make plans with the redhead but she rejected them so you moved further and further away from her and therefore from others, you ate alone in your classroom or maybe you didn't even eat and just had a coffee. When she left work, you would see Gary come to pick her up and kiss her passionately and exaggeratedly when he noticed that you were looking at them. You'd go home with your heart broken, you'd drink a little, you'd go to a bar, you'd sleep with someone, and you'd go home to keep drinking until you feel asleep. Feeling more and more sad, broken, dirtier, and emptier each night.

Mel began to notice your absence from school, it was like you were there and at the same time you weren't, you were a ghost around the school, you just came to do your work and left, you didn't look at her or talk to her anymore, if she was around, you left the room to avoid her and you weren't very subtle when you did it and that hurt her. Melissa knew it was partly her fault, she started pushing you away first, mainly because Gary was jealous of you and didn't want the redhead to be with you, but she didn't think it would get to that point where you'd avoid her altogether. She missed the old days when you were friends and everything was easier. Honestly, since she got married, her life had not been as she expected, she had been married for a short time, but everything had already changed, Gary changed a lot and apparently he didn't even know her anymore (it was really because you had stopped helping him). And yet, Mel didn't understand why she was more concerned about losing you than about her marriage decaying.

That day, Melissa had come to your classroom to tell you that she needed to talk to you at the end of school, but you honestly didn't feel like facing her today, you felt like shit and probably listening to her would only make you feel worse. So you were begging your students to get out faster than hers, so you could leave before the redhead.

When the alarm announced the end of classes, you gathered your things quickly, but before you could leave, Barbara stopped you to talk, you tried to avoid it but there was no way to say no to her. Barbara made you sit at your desk and she sat next to you with a worried face

-"Sweetheart... Are going to tell me what's going on with you? We barely see you, you barely talk to us, I barely see you eat, you look worn out and sadder than ever, your eyes don't shine anymore and you don't smile. I know how your heart feels for Mel, but what else is going on?"-Barbara asked you and you sighed avoiding her gaze, her sweet tone and her sincere look of concern reminded you of your father when you were going through adolescence and he wanted to help you but didn't know how

-"I don't know what I'm doing Barbara, honestly, I'm just surviving, I just let the days go by. I spend my time drinking when I'm not working, or curled up in bed with someone else, people than I barely even know, nothing fulfills me and nothing makes me happy. I don't feel like eating and I have trouble sleeping, I feel so broken and tired, so so tired of living, and it's not just the fact that I'm still head over heels in love with Melissa, but my heart aches because she pushed me away, I tried to at least keep being her friend, but I lost even that. You told me she wouldn't forget me for getting married, but she did and it hurts, it hurts to think about her. That's why I keep drinking, so I don't think about anything. Because every moment that I spend sober, every second that my brain works, it is Melissa that occupies my whole being and it hurts, it hurts that she is the love of my life but I am nothing to her, I'm not even her friend"-You whispered and hid your face in your hands trying not to cry, Barbara caressed your back gently

-"You know what you're doing isn't right, you can't throw your life to the ground because of this, you didn't give up when you lost your father and you won't do it now either. You're strong, I know you are. You have to stop this self-destructive behavior."-Barbara commented worriedly and you sighed clenching your jaw

-"What's the point? I don't feel like fighting for myself and I have no one left to keep going. I just want to stop thinking for a while, I want to get her out of my head and heart and start from scratch... I've even asked Ava to arrange an exchange for me, she said she'd see it, but I still don't know anything about it. But if she succeeds, I want to leave, I don't care where, I just want to get away from Melissa and her intoxicating being , because she hurts me so much and she doesn't even notice it... If I manage to leave, maybe things will get a little better..."-You finally looked at Barbara and she shook her head

-"Don't say you don't have anyone anymore, I'm here, I'm here because I care about you and I want to see you well, I want to see you happy again... And leaving won't be the answer, the answer is to look for things that make you feel better and together we'll look for those things, I promise. I'm Melissa's friend, but I'm also your friend and I'll help you in any way I can. I never told her what you told me at the wedding, you can trust me, okay?"-She asked you and you nodded looking at her with teary eyes, Barbara hugged you tightly and you hid in her neck

-"Thank you Barbara... You always help me feel better"-You whispered, and she smiled even more.

When you two left the room, you failed to see the redhead who was pressed against the wall so you wouldn't notice that she overheard the entire conversation.

Upon getting home, you decided to go out to the bar anyway, just to distract yourself a bit, you didn't want to be home alone.

While you were dancing with a person, someone grabbed your hand and pulled you to a quieter place in the bar, you were about to fight but your heart stopped when you saw that it was Melissa, who was looking at you without saying anything

-"What are you doing here? What do you want?"-You squinted and Melissa just looked at you worriedly

-"I don't know, I really don't know, I just know that I needed to see you..."-she whispered and smiled faintly, but you sighed and frowned

-"Why? You've ignored me for almost a whole month and now you need to see me? Well, I don't want to see you or talk to you, you've been a bad friend"-Your answer came like poison from your lips and the redhead laughed dryly

-"Do you call me my bad friend? When you're the one who kept secrets from me?" - Melissa raised her voice, clearly annoyed

-"What the hell are you talking about?"-You asked confused, You weren't understanding anything, first she would show up without warning and now she was complaining about nonsensical things

-"That you had love me for years and you never told me!"-Her confession caught you by surprise and then anger filled your body again

-"How did you know about that? Who told you? If it was Barbara, I swear..."-You started talking but she interrupted you

-"I heard you talking to her earlier... Why didn't you talk to me before the wedding? Why didn't you ever tell me? You know you can tell me anything" - Her voice came out more fragile than desired, almost broken, as if talking too loudly would somehow make you escape

-"What was the point, nothing would have changed, you were in love with him and I would only always be your eternal friend, I couldn't risk losing you completely because of my stupid feelings. You would never reciprocate me, I am a stupid child and you are a great woman, you would not reciprocate, not even in my dreams. He made you happy, and at first I thought seeing you happy would be enough for me, so I keep quiet, but it wasn't and it started to destroy me. I tried to keep our friendship and you still walked away. So I lost it all anyway, I guess whatever I did, it was destined to be a failure... When I saw how happy you looked with him, I didn't dare hurt you with vain confections of love that wouldn't be reciprocated. I thought if I helped him make you happy, somehow... In a way that would be enough, but it wasn't. He only used me to make you fall in love with him, he used everything I knew about you to make you fall more in love and I watched my words fill his mouth and how you fell in love with him. You fell in love with my words and actions but believed they were his. But if those words had come from my mouth without him as an intermediary, they wouldn't have been enough for you to fall in love with me, nothing in the world would have been enough for my love to be reciprocated, so I just gave up without trying. It didn't matter if I spoke or not, nothing would have been different, you would have ended up with him anyway and walked away from me..."-You whispered avoiding her gaze, Melissa looked at you with such anger and contempt, that was what you wanted to avoid and the reason why you never confessed. You couldn't stand her being angry with you. Melissa angrily pushed you against the wall when she saw that you wanted to keep talking

-"Shut up, don't say you wouldn't have been enough because you don't know that, you're more than enough for anyone you want. Don't put yourself down. You're a thousand times better than Gary, but you're so stupid, how did you let so much time pass? Why did you let me marry him when you loved me? If you had spoken, maybe it would be you and me at that damn altar. Maybe this stupid ring would tie me to you and not to him, how I wish you were the one who occupies my bed and not him... I was scared to admit this, but you occupy my thoughts more than he does, I always care more about you than my relationship with him. You occupy my dreams and every minute of my life... But you are so stupid... So fucking stupid, you have such a big mouth but you keep quiet for so long... I hate you so much!"-The redhead went to push you again but you grabbed her hands changing the position and leaving her against the wall

-"And I hate you more! Why did you married him if you kept thinking about me?! Why didn't you say no if you weren't sure?" - You yelled at her, pressing her against the wall with your body, you were only millimeters away from her

-"Because I'm clearly as stupid as you are! We're both stupid and in love with each other and we never said anything...so stupid...- Melissa whispered looking at your lips and grabbed your cheeks kissing you hard. The kiss was desperate, teeth clashing, tongues competing for dominance, your hands touching every part the redhead would allow. Her little moans on your lips were driving you crazy and desperate for more, you wanted more from her, you needed it, you needed her. Your hands slipped under her blouse and you squeezed her waist, her skin so soft was addictive. Her breasts were pressed against yours and your hips against hers. You didn't want to be away from her, not even if your lungs were screaming for air. You wanted to kiss her until your lips wore away, you wanted to kiss her until the reality you were in changed, you wanted to touch her until your body and hers became one, you wanted to hold her until she became yours and you became hers. But nothing would change reality, Melissa was married and this was wrong. The redhead pushed you gently, breathing heavily

-"Whether we like it or not, I'm still married to him" - she whispered, teary-eyed inches from your lips

-"I know, I can't fucking forget that" - You whispered and tried to kiss her again but she wouldn't let you, putting her fingertips on your lips to stop you

-"And I'm not a cheater..."-she whispered, and you sighed walking a few steps back, even if your soul ached for having to part from her after wanting to kiss her for so long. You knew why she said it, whether Gary was a bad men or not, he didn't deserve to be cheated on like her ex-husband did to her in her old marriage-"I'll talk to Gary and then we will see where this could go... Would you be willing to wait for me?" - Melissa asked looking into your eyes and you barely smiled

-"Always..."-You answered and arranged a strand of hair that had ruffled out of her perfect hair

-"I'll see you tomorrow at school then... Please don't stay here, go back home and eat something and try to get some rest... And if Ava gets your transfer, don't accept it... Wait for me please or I'll go after you"- Melissa whispered and kissed your cheek, very close to your lips before leaving to talk to him.

[creaturefeaster]

Does Gary even take showers..

Talpians are not huge fans of getting wet, and in modern society they prefer drier methods of cleaning themselves, such as powdered shampoos, or actual wipe downs rather than getting full on wet.

But before those things existed, talpian hygine practices were essentially a form a dust bathing.

That is to say. No. He doesn't. He lives extremely rustic, so he dustbathes.

[yisony07]

That man had been doing exercises when he caught the attention of Alan, a ghost who used to visit the park to see which handsome man he could take advantage of and, upon seeing Danny, in his black suit, Gary knew he had hit the jackpot, so he followed him immediately. He was already able to taste his new acquisition, with that sweat on top of Danny’s body, his enormous and strengthened muscles and the shaft that was surely hidden in his pants.

When they arrived at Danny's apartment, Gary acted immediately. Upon reaching the bedroom, the ghost caused Danny to fall fully onto the bed. Having Danny’s ass in front of him, Gary entered fully.

"What?!" Danny could barely scream at the intrusion. He felt something cold and somewhat sticky enter him through his hole. He turned to see what it was and, seeing a ghost, he screamed and tried to grab it to pull it out, but to no avail. In a matter of seconds, Alan was fully inside.

Danny didn't know what to do, because he was desperate. However, the sensation of the ghost moving inside him felt strangely comfortable, to the point of being pleasurable, like a small chill spreading into the warmth of his core. Little by little Danny felt how the sensation of his body, his arms, legs, torso... was replaced by an unmatched sexual pleasure, as if the only thing he wanted to do was ejaculate without stopping. Within seconds, he cummed and closed his eyes, falling motionless onto the bed.

A few minutes later, 'Danny' woke up and got up. However, he wasn't the same Danny as before.

"I thought you'd put up more of a fight, but you gave up easily... that's how I like it," he said, followed by a chuckle. "Fuck... this is much better than I thought. You'll see that you will be the life of the party..." he added and, with barely changing a few clothes, but without bathing at all, he left the house again, ready to go to a gay bar.

[sneezypeasy]

*sigh*

Y'know, this really doesn't/shouldn't matter, but as this particular accusation keeps getting thrown at me over and over again - oh fuck it, I'm gonna take the bait this one time and set the record straight once and for all. Honestly my "appetite" in this context is truly not anyone's business (and if you don't care to hear about it this is the one warning you'll get to click away lmao) but I've reached the point where if you really wanna attack my credibility based on who you think I enjoy fantasizing about, I'm gonna throw you a bone and tell you exactly what type that is - cuz as much as I'm sick of the ad hominem attacks the Aussie in me is even more sick of watching them miss so fucking hard. If you're gonna roast me, the least you can do is hit me where it hurts, goddamn it. Get it right or go home you uncooked noodles. Capiche?

When it comes to my taste in men, my "type" is: big, strong, hairy brutes. There, I said it. Give me lumberjacks, give me cavemen, I want my Jason Momoas, I want my Ma Dong-Seoks, I want them broad shoulders and tree-trunk calves and I wanna see those muscles bulge. If a fictional character ever gets me biting my lip at the screen, it's never gonna be a fine-featured pretty boy, it's gonna be a good thick daddy who can take my wrists, pin me against a wall and [--------------------------------‐---sustained bleep sound effect---------------------------------]

1:38-1:51 🤣

Personality wise, I'm a basic bitch who has approximately zero defenses for the "jerk with a heart of gold" stereotype. Gets me every time, without fail. The smooth-talking playboy who flirts with everyone and who could bed anyone he wanted, but who only lets you see him at his deepest, dearest, most vulnerable moments? Sorry, am I supposed to not fall for that shit or something? Well frankly I don't understand how and I'm not ashamed to admit it. If he happens to be built like a fortress on top of that? Yeah, I'm done. Have me bathed and brought to your tent, sir, please and thank you.

I admit, it's rare that a character with the physique I like also has that heartbreaker personality I'm a sucker for. Guys in fiction are usually strong and mean or they make up for their lighter frames with silver tongues and barbed promises - rarely do writers create a character who's stacked with both brains and brawn, so to speak. Makes sense though, as while irl people can max out any combination of stats that they put effort towards - in fiction a character who's too good at too many different attributes can come across unbalanced or Gary Stu-ish and will fail to resonate with audiences unless the writer really knows what they're doing.

That being said, there really isn't any character in ATLA who fits my type - either of them, actually. There are some bit characters like Chit Sang who get close in terms of physical build - but Chit Sang has very gaunt, angular facial features that I'm really not a fan of and tbh, while I get that I can't expect all my big buff boys to also be masters of wit and cunning and charm, being dumber than a box of rocks does seal it for me, sorry. In terms of personality, I guess the closest character would be Jet, and he's cool and all but yeah, the whole "would go as far as killing kids" thing makes him a bit of a hard sell for me too. (And yes, it's worth questioning the writers' choices to create him with those flaws to begin with but look, that's a discussion for another day 😂)

All this to say, if you wanna tease me about coveting fictional characters and allowing thirst to cloud my judgment - COME AT ME BOYS. But not with Zuko, for fuck's sake. The character that makes sneezy.exe blue-screen ain't him. It's actually the late great Carthaginian General Hannibal Barca, the man the myth the legend may he Rest in Peace if anyone's seriously wondering. Look, I do like the scar, and the awkwardness is endearing - he's definitely not ugly or unappealing by any means so please don't misunderstand, I'm not trying to bash him or nothin' - but if I'm being brutally honest, he's not my type! Not physically, not even emotionally. If I ship Zutara, it's because aspects of the ship appeal to me that are unrelated to my personal opinion of Zuko as an object of fantasy, which if you must know (and now you do, congratulations, you're welcome), the kind of boy I do fantasise about when I'm in the mood for that sort of thing could literally and figuratively sweep Zuko off his feet - and then sit on him. In either order.

P.S. While we're on this topic, the character I personally relate to most heavily is not Katara either btw. It's Toph. If you're going to accuse me of bias, questioning my views on Toph would make the most sense for that reason. But really, it's hardly my fault that she's basically the most perfect flawless irreproachable badass in ATLA or practically all of animation as a whole. Come on now. *whistles innocently*

[unholyhelbig]

Can you do spider!person x Kate Bishop with a soulmate AU?

[A/n: I've never been a massive fan of Soulmate au's but, for some reason this one really got under my skin and helped with some writers block, so, thank you!]

Title: Magnetic

Ship: Kate Bishop x gn!reader

Disclaimer: I did not proofread, if there are mistakes, I'm sorry!

Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts

Summary: Reader is a spider!person from earth-2099 and Kate Bishop is curious about why she's so drawn to them.

The piano stood in the center of a restaurant that seemed to harvest the warmth of every candle. They were unscented, casting a deep yellow glow that shaded the patrons’ faces and stretched them in shadows. You had figured that you could be no true judge of character when those around you were bathed in untrustworthy light.

Having live music was part of the charm, or so you had been told. Classically trained and playing the same sonatas over ivory keys for left over bread and mistaken orders. People would send food back for the slightest hint of sodium, too much cilantro, too little portions. Of course, you could keep your tips at the end of the night, sometimes they would brim the elegant glass jar on the hood of the piano.

Sometimes, you’d see nothing but a brass quarter that a man who smelled too thickly of tobacco would drop to its basin. He’d tell you the story of the general carved into the front, a confederate, you had no doubt. And you would nod, your fingers doing all the work to keep up the quiet ambiance of the lobby.

At one point, you remember enjoying playing the piano. Of course, that was before you mastered it. When you were a novice, it was fun, you’d ply each note and double down on the pedals. You’d take risks. But the restaurant did not want risk. They wanted sub-par entertainment.

You knew you were good, better than good, you were perfect. You’d had all the time in the world to get to this point and you’d lean on your talents if it meant a good meal and something to do. It distracted you from your own discontent with this world. With 616.

The clinking sound of a piece of copper against a glass pulled you from your thoughts. Your hands were gliding along the keys all the same, undeterred from the distraction. Though, you almost caught yourself ‘C’ sharp.

Kate Bishop stood in front of you, leaning against the side of the Kawai, it’s black finish reflecting her pensive stare. In all the universe, she still had the same slightly-infuriating, adorable face of determination that she wore now.

Of course, she had an evening gown, and of course she dressed the part. She wore something emerald, green, reflecting from her gray, storming stare. Kate’s lips were painted red, her skin like snow. You caught a whiff of Rosemary, and was that mint? It was freshly tilled from the ground.

“I have questions.” She said.

She showed no signs of leaving, and you didn’t’ want her to. Though, she obstructed your view of the hostess and therefore, your manager, Gary. So, you gestured, asking her wordlessly to take a seat on the bench next to you.

Kate’s confidence faltered, but she delicately lifted her dress from the floor and lowered herself onto the bench next to you. There was a certain heat about her, one that you could feel as she stared down at the keys, at your touch moving across them with ease.

You could feel her stare on the side of your face, burning, making your stomach do flips that threatened your composure. It didn’t’ seem to matter which universe you were in; 616, 2099, 219 and hundreds more- Kate was always there. She was always disarming and part of that infuriated you.

“Do me a favor, will you?”

Kate furrowed her brow but lifted her chin. There was a quiet contemplation about her, one that warmed your skin. She looked magnificent in that dress, show-stopping. Each wandering eye from the patrons of the restaurant had nothing to do with you, or the music. She had captivated everyone in the room.

“Slowly- F sharp, then B flat and C.”

Kate scoffed “I can’t keep time.”

“I’ve seen the callouses on your hands. You can keep time. What is it? Violin?”

“Almost, the cello.” Kate pressed the first note, and then the other two. She listened to what you played and matched the rhythm with one hand. The other ran over the stitching of her dress. “I didn’t come here to play, Y/n.”

“And I didn’t’ come here to talk, it seems that we’re at an impasse.”

Kate clenched her jaw. You gave her a smirk and settled into the last notes of the song. A few seconds to pull your shoulders back and you began to shift the mood of the room with the soft crescendos. “Alright. Ask your questions. I’ll answer them.”

“Truthfully?”

You hummed “If I can. Silence will speak wonders.”

“Right. Okay. Fine.” Her voice lowered to nothing but a whisper, a warmth against your cheek. “You’re Spiderman.”

“That is not a question Kate. That is a statement.”

“I’m getting there. You’re Spiderman, but Peter is Spiderman. I’ve lived with him for three years, that’s not something you can hide. And then suddenly, there you are, in a really… I mean, the suit is nice, the colors are- wow- but you’re not Pete.”

“I’m failing to see the question.”

“You’re infuriating, you know that?”

You smiled at her “Yes.”

She grumbled and crossed her arms over her chest, drawing in a deep breath before she continued. Gary was eyeing you from the host stand, a furrow to his brow. You nodded at him, and he moved his attention down to his clipboard.

“Have you ever considered different worlds?” You asked.

“I’ve interacted with a talking raccoon who is surprisingly adept at disassembling a cherry red 1970 Dodge Challenger. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

You laughed, and her cheeks matched the exterior of the car for just one moment before she grimaced and returned to her composure. She stared at you expectantly as you finished the last of your song. Your hands lingered on the keys, but you didn’t start another one. Instead, you stood, took the jar off the top of the piano.

Kate watched you expectantly as you held your hand out to her, lifting both eyebrows. Your shift was over, and even if it wasn’t, you were sure you’d leave with Kate if she asked you to. Explaining something like this, you’d done it a million times to a million different Kate’s but it always made your heart scream inside your chest all the way to your fingertips.

She took your hand, the warmth was overwhelming. You led her outside, the jar tucked under your arm and the city lights boring down on wet pavement. For a few moments, the two of you walked aimlessly- much too overdressed for your surroundings. There was too much in the air, and somehow, never enough.

“Every single decision that we make has consequences, has chain reactions. And each time we make a choice there is a world out there that plays out in succession.” You shoved your hands into your coat pockets, breath steaming in front of you. “There’s a world where we are still sitting together at the piano. There’s one where my manager Gary fired me for talking to you in the first place.”

“I think I get it.” Kate nudged you with her shoulder, “But that doesn’t explain how you made it here. Isn’t there some type of cosmic consequence that comes with this kind of thing?”

“Typically, yes. If you were to meet the Kate from earth 20368, then things are bound to explode. She was a nice girl, by the way. Kind of reckless. But things don’t work the same way for me. I’m an anomaly. There’s only one of me.”

“You’ve lost me.” Kate stopped, pressing the tips of her fingers against her temple. “We’ll circle back to the ‘was’ you threw in there.”

“I’m sorry” You chuckled, “I’ve done this hundreds of times, and it still doesn’t get any easier. I’m originally from Earth 2099. It’s a reality that’s much like this one, but sort of… Frankensteined from all of the other earths. There was a man there, a scientist, a geneticist, that flew a little too close to the sun. Hence me. Hence my whole family.” 

Kate parted her perfectly painted lips to say something, but you didn’t’ give her a chance. Instead, you dug through the change in your pocket, forking over two crumpled dollars to a greasy looking man behind a peddled cart. You could smell the salty aroma of hotdogs topped with sauerkraut and mustard.

“Thank you, Benny” you said, passing Kate one of the hot dogs, wrapped in a coffee filter. She took it without question and you dropped the rest of the change in your pocket into his tip jar before the two of you fell into a perfect silence.

“I can’t tell what bothers me more. The use of Frankenstein as a verb, or the fact that you talk in riddles. It’s all very confusing.” Kate took a bite of her hotdog and moaned with pleasure “Jesus, this is a delicacy.”

“I don’t mean to talk in riddles, you know? The answers you crave aren’t straight forward. There’s still a lot of that I’m trying to figure out too. A lot of unspoken rules. Things that I would have changed if I had the chance.”

You took a bite of your own hotdog, chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. Kate was watching you, her deep stare moved to the corner of your lip. She tentatively, gently, used the side of her thumb to wipe away a bout of condiment. It took everything in you not to sigh into her touch, to pull her in for a lengthened hug and breathe I her scent.

There was a pressure below your eyes, a sadness that you at to blink away. There was a sudden interest in your shoes and the way they weren’t built for the wet streets of New York. You whispered “You’re not my Kate.”

“I’m sorry, I overstepped I shouldn’t have-“

“No, no. It’s fine. Really.” You drew in a cold breath, one that burned your throat “On my earth, the one that I’m meant to be in, the one that I was created in, there was a Kate Bishop. We grew up together, laughed together, cried together, loved together.”

Kate’s voice was nothing more than air “what happened to her?”

“She died, in my arms she died. Was stubborn until the end about it too.”

 You frowned and threw the rest of your food into the nearest trashcan, not having much of an appetite anymore.

“I was engineered in a lab, much like my brother and sister and every single person around me. I wasn’t meant to fall in love, but you made it difficult not to. I had a falling out with my father, and he’s a man of science over anything else.”

“So, he killed me? Her?”

You swallowed the cold lump in your throat again and nodded. The tips of your fingers were numb with the weather, so you shoved them back into your pocket and watched as the beginning of rain began to fall. It distorted the reflection of traffic lights against the pavement.

“You have to understand, Kate. I ran away from 2099, stole the tech from my father’s lab and ensured that he couldn’t track me. My plan, it was to hide out in whatever world it took me to. I would grow old and die in solitude, have a normal life that I wasn’t engineered to have.

“But you were there, and there was color to your cheeks, and you were smiling. After I got over the shock, I decided to leave, go to whatever earth the device spits me out into. And there you were again, and again, until finally- I realized that wherever I went, some version of you would be there, and the same version of me was still hopelessly, undyingly, in love with you.”

“This is…” Kate frowned, got that same crease between her brows that you wanted to smooth out each time. “A lot to process, and that hot dog is about to make a second appearance.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I know.” You groaned, for a moment, staring up at the stars that mixed so delicately with the falling rain. “When I told you on Earth 181 you threw up over the side of the Brooklyn bridge.”

“Oh, nice. After that?”

You shrugged, looking back down at your feet “After that you pretended like none of it mattered. Which I’m not expecting you to do. Trust me, I’ve tried avoiding you, Kate. In every universe I’ve jumped to, I do everything in my power to keep myself away from you.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel fantastic.”

“You know what I mean. There are times when I think, I know that your life would be better without me in it. Meddling, existing. But during those times where I didn’t seek you out, you would find me. Kind of like tonight.”

“I… Couldn’t help myself.” She resigned “I’ve seen a million different masked heroes and have no desire to lift those masks, to find out their secret identities and insert myself into their lives. But it was different with you. It was magnetic.”

“I know, I get it.”

“So, what do we do now, then?”

“You do nothing.” You told her, lifting your chin. You watched the way her eyes moved with confusion and curiosity, the way her chest rose and fall with each breath she took. She was cold, so you pulled your jacket off and draped it carefully over her shoulders. Kate seemed to sigh into it, content for only a moment. “And I leave.”

[amphibious-thing]

Geneviève d’Eon & Marie-Jeanne Bertin: Clothing and Gender in 18th Century France

"After being fully dressed by famous designer Rose Bertin for the first time, they ran to their room and cried for hours." ~ Kaz Rowe, The Chevalier d'Eon: the Trans 18th Century Spy

Kaz Rowe throws this story out there in their video on d'Eon as a part of their justification in using they/them pronouns for d'Eon who used she/her pronouns. Rowe never really explains the context for this story. It sounds dramatic on the surface, d'Eon spent hours crying over being forced into women's clothes. But did this really happen?

This story comes from d'Eon's own autobiographical writings that she never finished. Segments of her drafts were translated and published by Roland A. Champagne, Nina Ekstein, and Gary Kates in The Maiden of Tonnerre. The title comes from d'Eon who styled herself la pucelle de Tonnerre after Joan of Arc who was known as la pucelle d'Orléans.

Some things to consider before we start:

D'Eon's autobiographical writings operate under the pretence that she was afab and raised as a boy for inherence reasons. We have to remember that these writings are heavily fictionalised, a necessity in upholding the lie that allowed d'Eon to live as a woman. However that doesn't mean that there is no historical value in these writings. Instead of simply taking these stories as fact we must consider: Why is d'Eon presenting this story in this way? How does this story serve the narrative d'Eon is constructing for herself?

D'Eon in this story claims she had never worn women's clothing before. This is contradicted by d'Eon's own claim of infiltrating the court of Empress Elizabeth of Russia as a woman. While its hard to pinpoint the exact moment d'Eon first wore women's clothes I personally suspect it was much earlier than this.

D'Eon also includes a scene where she is bathed by Bertin's assistants. This scene is almost certainly fictional as if it happened in reality this would reveal that d'Eon had a penis, a fact she wanted to keep secret. This scene is almost certainly included to add to the 'evidence' that d'Eon was afab.

Considering these points we must consider that this story did not take place literally as d'Eon depicts it. Instead of taking this story as an accurate recollection of events I consider it a fictionalised story (based on true events). The goal in my analysis is to ask what is d'Eon trying to communicate though this story.

Some background information to add context:

D'Eon had prior to this incident signed a transaction with Louis XVI in which she was legally acknowledged as a woman and ordered by Louis XVI to wear woman's clothes. D'Eon agreed to "declaring publicly my sex, to my condition being established beyond a doubt, to resume and wear female attire until death," but then adds "unless, taking into consideration my being so long accustomed to appear in uniform, his Majesty will consent, on sufferance only, to my resuming male attire should it become impossible for me to endure the embarrassment of adopting the other". (see D'Eon de Beaumont, his life and times by Alfred Rieu, p174-182 for an English translation of the transaction)

We also must consider that d'Eon did not dispute the fact that she was a woman when signing the transaction, nor does she dispute this in her autobiographical writings. D'Eon was very much arguing that she, as a woman, should be allowed to continue to wear men's clothing (specifically her dragoon uniform) as that is what she was used to wearing and comfortable wearing.

Also mentioned in the following excerpt is the English trial over d'Eon's sex in which it was found that d'Eon was a woman. I'm not going to get too into the topic here as it's a whole other can of worms. However I think it's important to understand that while d'Eon had issues with aspects of the trial she would use the ruling to support her claim that she was afab.

The Maiden of Tonnerre: Chapter VII

Selections from the great interview between Mademoiselle Bertin and Mademoiselle d'Eon in Paris on October 21, 1777 Mademoiselle Bertin. I have come vary early in the morning to spare you trouble and embarrassment. But what else can I do? You must either go through this or through the gates of a convent. Mademoiselle d'Eon. It is easy to do otherwise. Just leave me as I am. I have lived for forty-eight years this way. I cannot live all that much longer. I am impatiently awaiting the great change that will transform us all making all of us eternally equal. Mademoiselle Bertin. The Court in its patience will never have the endurance to wait that long. Remember that it was a deliberate error on the part of your father, your mother, and yourself that resulted in Mademoiselle d'Eon's wearing men's clothing and a military uniform. But since that time things have changed considerably, and today by order of King and the law, the bad boy must become a good girl.

It's interesting that here d'Eon has Bertin distinguish between "men's clothing" and "military uniform". As women were not allowed in the French military at this time all French military uniforms were as such men's clothing. But d'Eon did not simply want to wear men's clothing she wanted to wear her military uniform.

Mademoiselle d'Eon. If I was a boy by mistake, one could inadvertently allow me to continue to be one. While you are correct about the substance of the matter, I am not wrong about the form. Mademoiselle Bertin. That is not possible now. Your trial created too much of a stir. Mademoiselle d'Eon. I am a reliable bugler in my squadron. I am not frightened by noise. The Court's behaviour, by its very decency, has wound up being indecent. I would have thought that the King would have been willing to allow me to wear the uniform of a former dragoon captain, Knight of Saint Louis, and plenipotentiary minister, since he was kind enough to allow me to wear the cross of the royal and military order of Saint Louis on my dress. Do you see how everything at court is so arbitrary? There one could say every day: Contraria contrariis opponuntur [A contrary opposes other contraries].

Again we see the focus is that d'Eon wanted to wear her dragoon uniform. She likens this directly to her cross of Saint Louis which Louis XVI did permit her to wear on her women's clothes. As the cross of Saint Louis was only awarded to men it is arguably also menswear. D'Eon is pointing out the arbitrary nature of this distinction. Why is she permitted to wear an idem of menswear, the cross of Saint Louis, but not another, her dragoon uniform. To d'Eon these both represent her achievements rather than manhood, she is arguing that she, a woman, should be allowed to wear them.

Mademoiselle Bertin. I concede that every day we see in the streets of Paris a tall young woman in the uniform of a dragoon publicly giving lessons on the use if arms. But remember that this girl was a mere dragoon and that she had no other way to earn a living. To do so, she had written permission to dress as a dragoon form the lieutenant general of the Paris police. But the Court would never grant such permission for a young woman from a good family who had been in France and in foreign courts as Mademoiselle d'Eon has been. Mademoiselle d'Eon. In a well-regulated country, the law must not allow preferential treatment to anyone. Mademoiselle Bertin. You can go to Versailles to argue with the Chancellor of France, your former schoolmate. But with Mademoiselle Bertin, it can serve no purpose to argue. Do not take this matter so far as to have a falling out with the King's ministers or the royal Treasury. Remember, Mademoiselle, that in France a maiden who obeys the law and the King must wear her dress and petticoat, whether to remain in this world or to spend her time in the convent. Mademoiselle d'Eon. Your advice is wise and prudent. I would rather follow you into the royal Treasury than into a convent. Mademoiselle Bertin. My honorable captain, don't think that you are dishonored by having been found to be a woman. The discomfiture is temporary, and the glory will be with you forever. But let us not wast uselessly the precious time needed to begin and end your outfitting before the return of Major Varville. Mademoiselle d'Eon. I see that Mademoiselle Bertin is correct about all that she says and does and that a lady-in-waiting to the Queen is thus wiser in her comportment and in her begetting than all the children of the Enlightenment and all the captains of the army. Without delaying further and having followed the instructions of Mademoiselle Bertin, the Dragoon was, in a short period of time, divested of his serpent's skin and transformed into an angel of light. Her head became as lustrous as the sun. Her whole outlook on things changed as much as did her face. No trace of the dragoon remained in her. Mademoiselle Bertin thought she was consoling me by saying: "The Queen doesn't despise bravery in a well-born maiden. But out of duty she prefers to find in her decency, honor, and virtue. If Louis XV armed you as a Knight of French soldiers, Louis XVI arms you as a chevalière of French women. And the Queen crowns your wisdom by commanding me to bring to you this new armor, which must accompany your coiffure and your demeanor so that you may become the leading general of all the honorable women of France. The time has come for us to be edified and not scandalized by Mademoiselle d'Eon's conduct. Why don't you offer up your uniform as a sacrifice at Notre Dame de Paris or in your holy anger throw it out the window in order to stand witness before the people of Israel, the Parisians, the Scribes, and the Pharisees that you are now following the letter of the law that Moses gave us in his commandments." While Mademoiselle Bertin had me get into the bath to be washed, soaped and scrubbed down by her companions, I told her: "Proceed as quickly as possible; do not waste time with the preparations so that I too may keep part of my own dignity as it is joined with yours and that of your seamstresses. Virtuous Bertin, honest messenger form the chamber of the Queen, I fully realize that the hour is at hand for me to follow the directive of the law and the King. As a victim, I am offered up in sacrifice since you do me harm in order to do me good. All women are going to point at me, and all the maidens are going to thumb their noses at me when they see me dressed in style and done up like a doll or at the very least like a Vestal Virgin who is led to the marriage altar."

We see in this excerpt Bertin acts as an authority ushering d'Eon into womanhood, the transformation is painful but ultimately positive for d'Eon; "you do me harm in order to do me good". But there is this real fear of being mocked by other women. At least part of d'Eon's trepidation to don women's clothes comes form the fear of humiliation. We see this fear also reflected in the transaction when she begs King Louis to "consent, on sufferance only, to my resuming male attire should it become impossible for me to endure the embarrassment of adopting the other".

Mademoiselle Bertin. Put aside your concerns about what other will say. Must what the mad say prevent us from being wise? Mademoiselle d'Eon. Alas, at court everything is beautiful. To please the court, does a former captain have to become a pretty boy [demoiseau]? Mademoiselle Bertin. Yes, absolutely, when the so-called "boy" is discovered to be in fact a girl by the systems of justice both in England and in France. Mademoiselle d'Eon. Speaking of justice, is Mademoiselle Bertin, the Queen's servant, also the enforcer of justice? Mademoiselle Bertin was stung. "Don't be angry," I told her, "I simply wanted you to acknowledge, for you are just in all matters, that I cannot fit into the dress you brought me." Mademoiselle Bertin remained disconcerted for a moment. But she soon regained her composure and said to me: "If you are a patient girl, the dress that I made for you in the name of Justice will soon be taken out to fit you. And I predict for you that the certainty of happiness will come form the alleged abyss of your unhappiness." Then, looking pleased with herself, she said to me: "I am glad about having stripped you of your armor and your dragoon skin in order to arm you from head to toe with your dress and finery. In you I have found the power to possess the benefit of simple tonsure without a papal dispensation. Give thanks to God. You can assuredly double your chances of attaining eternal life, for which all of us search amidst this life's sorrows, troubles and suffering. Tomorrow you will suffer less, and the following day you will not suffer at all. In a little while, you will enjoy the relaxation and the joy that are the natural prerogatives of a Catholic girl who loyally follows the breviary of Rome and Paris, which was annotated, revised, and made available to the Daughters of Holy Mary and the Queen's women. You are not yet canonized, but soon you will be beatified when your upcoming marriage is canonically approved. Better this for you than a cannon shot."

D'Eon at this time was considering joining a convent. Bertin is referring to d'Eon's marriage to Christ.

Mademoiselle d'Eon. You can even say that regarding a hail of cannon shots. ... But when I reflect on my past and present states, I will never have the courage to go out in public dressed as you have me. You have illuminated and brightened me up so much that I dare not look at myself in the mirror that you brought me. Mademoiselle Bertin. A room is not lit up in order to hide it or to keep it in the dark, but rather it is placed beneath a chandelier so that those who enter can see the light and be edified by your conversion. Mademoiselle d'Eon. I know that there is nothing hidden that should not be revealed or anything secret that cannot be known. Therefore, I will not seek my own willpower but that of the King who sent you here to Mademoiselle d'Eon to change what is bad into something good. Since he obliges me to choose the best way, it will not be taken away from me. What is worth choosing is worth maintaining. When you came to me, I thought you were bringing me death. Now I go to you in order to be alive, because I am no longer chasing after the false vainglory of the dragoons, but after the solid glory of maidens of pease. I am no longer looking for my own glory. There is another who is seeking it for me and is judging it. This order is the most Christian King following the opinion of his Council and his apostolic Sanhedrin, who grants me glory so that I myself might experience that God's will is perfect, that will of the law is just, the King's will is good, and that of the Queen pleasant, decent, and proper, because the Son of Man came to save what was lost. After this conversation, I quickly left the room and hurried to my bedroom, where I wept bitterly. Mademoiselle Bertin closely followed me and uselessly proposed both a drink and smelling salts in order to console me. I stopped crying only when my tears naturally dried up. Mademoiselle Bertin, as a crafty member of the Court, took advantage of my weekness by saying: "You are certainly not unaware of the joy experienced by the public in Paris when they heard sung the verses about the Heroine from Tonnerre, which were recently printed and are being sung throughout France." That was the only thing that calmed me in my distress, for when a heart is not entirely dedicated to God it is partly attached to this world. Only vanity can console such an individual because this world prefers human glory to the divine.

And so that it. Thats the moment that d'Eon "cried for hours" after being dressed by Mademoiselle Bertin. So what is d'Eon trying to communicate to the reader in this excerpt?

"When you came to me, I thought you were bringing me death. Now I go to you in order to be alive" is a key part of d'Eon's speech to Bertin, it mirrors an earlier moment in chapter VI where d'Eon says to Bertin "You have killed my brother the dragoon. That leaves me with a heavy heart." In order for d'Eon to become a woman the man or more precisely the dragoon must be killed. D'Eon tries to hang onto both womanhood and her identity as a dragoon but she isn't allowed to.

She cries in morning for the loss of the dragoon she once was and is only cheered by Bertin reminding her that she is now a Heroine. However the d'Eon who is narrating this story criticises her past self for vanity. We see this thought continued in the next chapter:

There is no doubt that it would have been preferable, for my happiness in this world and my salvation in the one to come, had my investiture taken place forty years earlier, because the dragoon disease is so deeply rooted in me that I greatly fear that our saintly Madame Louise will unite with our holy Archbishop, the good Marquis de l'Hôpital, and his pious spouse to have me put away in a hospital for the incurable.

D'Eon presents her transformation into womanhood at the hands of Mademoiselle Bertin as a painful experience but ultimately a necessary and good one that brought her happiness in the long term. I'll leave off with d'Eon's words:

That was all I could respond to Mademoiselle Bertin's questions, whether they were hers alone or form on high. I answered them in a satisfactory manner according to my system of moderation, so appropriate to my position and to the disposition that heaven has inspired in me, and not that of the dragoon, which I drove out of my clothes and away from the wardrobe that the honorable messenger of the Queen had brought me. Thus I can say without flattery that Mademoiselle Bertin is the best of the women who can be found at the Court, in the city, in Picardy, in France, and in the world. My dear Mademoiselle Bertin, it will soon be midnight return to rejoin your forty Virtues as if it were midday.

[marclef]

From what I’ve learnt from the fact about how much Fake Peppino hates water to the point where he’ll drink it to avoid having it on him… it got me thinking.

Let’s put this into a scenario here. Let’s say, hypothetically, someone where to take Fake Peppino and throw him into something like a pool, would it be possible that he’d attempt to consume all the water before it makes him go all goopy and loose his form? And that’s assuming he can actually swim…

AGAIN, a hypothetical scenario.

what a fun scenario... and wonderfully worded too! 😅

so, let's have a look-see at this hypothetical here, the way i see it there are two ways this could go!

the hypothetical though: SOMEBODY decides to be a jerk VERY rude and push this goopy fella into a big pool of water! obviously not ideal for Fakey.

now, the first direction it could go from here: usually, Fakey reserves trying to suck up any outside water if it's a smaller body, say falling into a puddle or being shoved into a bathtub. but, it's always possible he'd try it here, anything to stop the water from touching his sensitive outside skin! his insides are like a sponge though when it comes to liquids; they absorb very quickly, but it'll stay saturated in his skin for a while afterwards, until he dries or manages to fully convert it into goop.

but... an entire pool of water though... that's a lot of liquid.

and another fun fact, Fake Peppino hates being soggy. so now he's been shoved into a pool, panicked and drank a ton of water to save himself, and now he's wet and spongy...

he is not gonna be in the best of moods.

of course, that's only one of two ways this could go though! the other is much more simple....

that being, that it's way too much water to try that with. so the much more likely scenario that'll happen is simply this:

the well-known Fake Peppino Goop Pile. too much liquid and he can't even hold his form down! he won't dissolve in the water at least, just reduced to an extra-slimy, writhing blob of Goop. at which point he'd do everything he can to flee from the water, and start trying to find any way to dry off quicker.

how rude of somebody to push him into the water like that though; don't they know how uncomfortable being like this feels? at least there's one benefit to being a living pile of goo, and that's being able to smother the jerk who did this to you!

(haha, get GOOPED idiot 👆)

[morbidmotive]

That episode of Spongebob where he tries to get Gary in the tub, but instead it's Angel (or even Alastor) trying to get Husk to take a bath

[youwouldntlietopapa]

For a head canon request , how about a cozy rainy afternoon with the papas , how they like to spend their time with a s/o

Primo:

He especially loves a lazy rainy day in the greenhouse. Something about the rain tapping on the glass is very calming. 

He keeps a daybed and a bit of a room set up in one corner, tucked away behind a wall of tropical plants. On rainy days, it’s his favourite place to nap and stretch out with his SO. 

Also a good place for a slow, tender fuck between naps and cuddles. 

He’ll happily spend the afternoon combing his fingers through your hair and talking quietly about whatever you want to talk about. 

It’s really just a good excuse for a day of gentle physical affection and bonding. And one of the few days he can be convinced to simply rest without worrying about work and duties and every other little thing. 

Secondo:

The grey sweatpants come out. JUST the grey sweatpants. Without needing to ask. 

This man does not take many days off, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take advantage of the ones he has. When he relaxes, he relaxes. 

Opens a good bottle of wine, gets out the fancy cheeses and meats he’s been saving, olives, crackers, pickles, grapes, the works. Makes up a charcuterie board that would make grown men weep. 

Spends the afternoon watching old movies, stretched out on the couch, snacking and cuddling. 

Anyone who says this man is not a cuddler is a liar or a fool. He must be touching his SO at all times. Needs all the physical affection - for your sake. Obviously.

The charcuterie board isn’t the only snack in the room and he does love to eat rare, fine things. 

Terzo:

The rain always makes him melancholy. He’s a sunshine boy. He WILL spend the day looking sad and staring out the window if you don’t drag him away. You can practically hear Gary Jules singing Mad World.

He needs ALL the cuddles. And forehead kisses. And scalp scratches. And back rubs.

Definitely not going out in the rain, it will make his paints run. Although he WILL entertain suggestions for YOU to go outside, in the rain, in a white shirt. That would be fine. 

The best course of action is running a bubble bath for you both. Warm bath for cuddles. Bubbles to make silly beards and giggling like idiots until the water is cold and your fingers are pruney. 

Usually it turns into a cuddles and self-care day. Going through his extensive collection of skin care masks, painting nails, dying grey hairs, eating junk food, and watching something mindless on tv (he has a bad habit of falling into a Real Housewives spiral if you let him)

Copia:

He always wants to go for a drive.

Not to anywhere specific, just out of town to someplace quiet. He’ll find some empty side road and park, turn the radio down low, and lean his seat back. 

Just enjoys getting some quiet, private time with you. And the sound of the rain on the car roof is like magic. It’s the most relaxed and calm he gets anywhere but in bed. 

All he really wants is to hear about what’s going on with you, how you’re feeling, things you’re interested in, all of it. 

He’ll sit there with that content smile and half-lidded eyes, lacing his fingers through yours, or resting his hand on your thigh. 

Sometimes he’ll talk about new songs he’s working on or share the latest ghoul gossip. 

He always insists on cracking the window “to keep the windows from fogging up”. Really he just loves the petrichor.

He invariably falls asleep rests his eyes while snoring and definitely isn’t asleep.

[nonsenseafterdark]

Day Thirteen: Shower Sex

Characters: Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Simon "Ghost" Riley

Word Count: 1417

Warnings: None. Just fluff and humor... And soup

Notes: I hope this makes up for the previous prompt haha... I enjoyed writing this one. As always, this was also posted on AO3, and you can find my prompt list here

Gary jumped as the ice cold water from the shower head rained down on him, sending down a violent shiver down his spine. He stepped back a bit far enough that the water was just touching his feet and close enough that he was still able to reach the shower handle to adjust the temperature. He turned the handle towards the left, expecting the water to turn warm at any moment, but mildly surprised as it was still cold. Gary waited another minute for the temperature to adjust, but at the absolute hottest, the water was lukewarm. He sighed, mentally adding the task of checking the water heater to his plans for the weekend and bummed as he wouldn’t be able to stay nearly as long in the shower like this. He stepped under the water, sulking as he let the water rinse through his scalp, though he was quickly attentive to the sound of the door opening.

“Gary?” He heard Simon’s voice, mildly raised, “It’s just me.”

After shutting the door, he pressed, “You alright in there, bug?”

“I think something’s wrong with the water heater,” Gary said after a few moments, “The water’s not warming up…”

“Really? That certainly explains why you haven’t turned our bathroom into a sauna by now.”

“And I dunno how you tolerate bathing in water as cold as the Atlantic.”

That earned a laugh from Simon, speaking in between brushing his teeth, “And I’m telling you, love, you’d enjoy it too if you gave it more than one chance.”

“I would rather give myself third degree burns with my hot showers, thank you very much… Or turn myself into soup in this tub...”

There was a moment of stunned silence, Gary letting out a stifled giggle as he heard the brushing instantly fade.

“Don’t… Ever say that again,” Simon snorted, jokingly repeating before finishing up brushing, “‘Turn yourself into a soup…’”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“No problems with soup. Just don’t use yourself as an ingredient… And don’t use our tub to make it.”

“Oh, imagine the feast we could have—”

He was cut off suddenly as Simon briefly swung the shower curtain open, stating in a humorous manner, “You’re not using our tub to make soup.”

Gary erupted into a fit of giggles, and even Simon couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Well get in here then, ‘Mr. I-Love-Cold-Showers,” He said, tugging on his shirt, “Come keep me warm before I really turn myself into soup.”

“You’re very bossy today.”

Simon took a moment to strip off his shirt, and as he worked on getting his pants and boxers off, he leaned over to press his lips against Gary’s. This simple act already had blood rushing to his groin, his thighs tingling. Simon broke off the kiss momentarily to step into the shower, but he was back to locking his lips with his partner soon after. Gary tasted hints of mint off his breath, humming pleasantly as he felt Simon’s hands run down the sides of his body while pulling him closer. Meanwhile, Gary’s hands held the sides of Simon’s face, soothing his fingers over his cheeks and sighing into his mouth as he felt the warmth of his body, a comforting contrast to the cold shower water. Simon eventually made a move to tilt Gary’s face slightly to deepen the kiss, taking his breath away before slipping his hand to stroke his cock. 

Gary moaned quietly, grinding into his hand as his partner broke off the kiss to ask, “How do you want to do this?”

“I want you inside me,” The other man mumbled into his ear. 

“Again?”

“Yes, please… I want you close to me…”

Simon chuckled into his mouth as he pulled Gary into another deep kiss, moving his hand from his cock and over his hip to turn him around and facing the tiled wall. He pressed his body close to him, lips locking onto the skin of his neck as his hands squeezed his rear. 

“You warming up yet, baby?” Simon rasped. 

“Getting there…” Gary hummed in amusement, “But not quite.”

The other man briefly bit into the corner of his neck before reaching down to the corner of the shower and picking up a bottle of lube, as Simon implied, this wasn’t the first time they had fucked each other in the bathroom. Gary waited and pressed the palms of his hands against the wall, shivering slightly brother both the temperature of the water and as Simon pressed his lubed fingers against his entrance. He bit down on his lip, stifling a moan as he felt two fingers push inside him, sliding in and out slowly and stroking his walls. With his free hand, Simon reached up to grab at the back of Gary’s head, tugging on the strands of hair and tilting his head back. 

“Let me hear you,” Simon groaned, growing rock hard himself, “Don’t hold back on me.”

Gary moaned at his command, his cock throbbing from the combined pleasure of being touched and talked to like this. His whimpers and whines echoed off the tiled walls, louder than the running water. 

“Fuck, right there…” He sighed deeply, arching back and clenching around Simon’s fingers. He felt incredible, and yet he wanted to feel better than that, “Simon… I’m ready for you.”

“Yeah?” Simon chuckled, “I was just thinking I could get you off with my fingers.”

He slipped them out, Gary whining at the brief loss. He turned around slightly to watch Simon stroke himself before he lined his cock up with his entrance, and he watched as he pushed in, gasping out as he felt his length stretching him out. Gary cursed, arching back to adjust to his size and chase the pleasure that followed. He heard Simon breath deeply, moaning out as the other man wiggled his hips slightly, and Gary giggled shortly before his laughter faded into a whimper as Simon slammed his hips forward, pushing his cock as deep as he could go. 

“You’re seconds away from being a complete brat,” Simon rasped into his ear. 

“You like it,” Gary replied sensually, pushing his hips back and whining as he urged Simon to move. 

“You know I do.”

Simon pulled back and thrusted forward to a steady rhythm, the sound of slapping skin joining in with Gary’s pleasured cries and moans. He arched back into his thrusts, his muscles clenching as he became unbothered by the cold water as his senses were warmed with euphoria and satisfaction. Simon eventually pressed his body against Gary’s, rolling his hips slowly, but deeply into a spot that had the other man crying out. What followed were a series of incoherent praises and whines, to which Simon swallowed them up in an open mouthed kiss, carefully turning and holding his head carefully. With his other hand, he reached down to wrap his fingers around Gary’s cock. 

Gary’s moans grew in volume and pitch, his legs shaking from the repeated ministrations. If it weren’t for Simon pressing up against him, he would’ve collapsed entirely. 

“Gonna come…” He moaned out in between the kisses, “Fuck, I’m gonna come…!”

Simon groaned in affirmation before breaking off the kiss, his hips slamming violently into Gary as he chased his climax. He watched as Gary’s eyes squeezed shut, gasping out breathlessly as he reached his orgasm and clenched around his cock. Simon’s breathing became labored and quickened, stifling his moans as he bit down on Gary’s shoulder and holding him by his hips in a bruising grip. He came inside, groaning out and rolling his hips slowly until the pleasure faded into overstimulation. 

Gary exhaled heavily as he came down from his high, dipping his head against the wall. Simon smoothed his hands over his hips, gently rubbing at the spots he was gripping at before. 

“Warm enough now?” He asked softly.

“Mm, yeah…” Gary mumbled, reaching behind him to caress Simon’s hair and tilting his head towards him. He sighed pleasantly, and when it didn’t feel like he was clenching around so much, the other man pulled out. 

“Simon…?”

“Yeah?”

“Help me clean up?” The manner Gary asked wasn't so demanding as before, but more equivalent to an exhausted request. 

“Of course,” Simon mumbled, pressing a soft kiss into his skin.

"Maybe you can make me some soup after this-?"

"Gary, you're now seconds away from being a brat again, and not the good kind."

Gary snickered, even hearing Simon chuckle against his shoulder.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Come back for me 4/4

From a fanfic idea from an anon!!!

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Game: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2009), Canon-Typical Violence, Violence, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Mild Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Age Regression Little Simon "Ghost" Riley, Age Regression Caregiver John "Soap" MacTavish, Captain John "Soap" MacTavish, rewritten ending of 09, Age Regression/De-Aging, pet regression pet regression pup Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Little Space, Age Regression, Caregiver John Price (Call of Duty), Shepherd is the worst, Gun Violence, Face Slapping, Mocking, Men Crying, Crying, Gaz is dead already remember, i didnt forget him, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Stitches, diapers, baths

read under the cut or here \/

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52944292/chapters/134153089

And so Simon got everything he wanted. With just a little bit of negotiation. They had to go to medical for that gash on his leg. And probably a bunch of other minor wounds they'd find along the way. 

This wouldn't be medical’s first time dealing with Little Ghost. Infact, Simon had gone so many times that they had a special toy for him. A sensory cube, one that makes sounds, like crinkling, but also has textures like mini netting or stuffie fur. It was a treat to the staff when they got to see him, they insisted every time, because little Simon was well behaved. Much better behaved than big Simon. 

Big Simon would put up genuine fights. Even if it was a normal flu shot, or stitches. He couldn't be distracted the same way as when he was regressed. Little Simon cried, but he stayed still as long as Mactavish had him.

The first stop though, was Soap's room. For Ghost to be able to settle down before they went to such an overwhelming place like medical. And to get him into proper regression gear. 

When they entered Mactavish's room, Ghost's eyes were just so barely open. Tears drying on his cheeks. Slowly and carefully, Simon was laid down in bed. 

His relaxed for a moment. Somehow the bed always felt warmer in Soap's room. He felt too floaty to even realize that Johnny had stepped away. Simon chewed on two of his fingers, looking up at the ceiling, his eyes traced any shapes he saw in the popcorn ceiling. 

It was peaceful again.

Simon occasionally sniffled, but otherwise was taking full breaths again and was calm. 

Carefully, all his gear was removed. Check in could wait, they had to get Simon comfortable. That took priority.

With soft words, and gentle encouragement, Mactavish got Simon out of his pants. Being most careful to not touch the wound on his leg. Simon needed fresh clothes, even before he was going to bathe, the blood on the pants could make him panic even more. 

Shorts were picked for Simon, and they were slid on with the same careful precision the pants had been removed with. 

Simon's eyes kept drifting shut, before being woken up again. He blinked slowly up at Mactavish. 

“Come on, Si, we gotta take ye medical, hm?” Mactavish spoke, a hand brushing through Simon's hair. 

Though he wanted to complain, he was hurting and he was so so sleepy. Simon softly nodded, one arm reaching up for his bubba. 

It seemed that Soap only then realized there were red marks around his wrists that were much worse than the ones he would've gotten from the ties he saw on their video call. The ones before, that held him tight in a stress position. It still hurt a little. 

Soap examined his arm for a moment, placing a gentle kiss on his palm. The beard tickled his hand a little.

“I've got ye, m’ love.” Mactavish muttered, lifting Simon into his arms. He held him close, like he was the most precious thing in the world. Simon was held bridal style in his arms, as not to aggravate the wound on his leg.

“Mmhm… bubba.” Simon sleepily babbled, his head coming to rest on the other's shoulder. A small sniffle came from him as he nuzzled his face against the fabric. Johnny had him, Simon knew that, he was just scared.

Mactavish planted a soft kiss to his head, silently ensuring he was still there. He began to take them out of the bedroom. 

The walk to medical wasn't long. Ghost, however, kept falling asleep. Each time, he felt a small poke to his side that kept him up. He was so tired, so sore. But Mactavish was right there, if he just let him sleep then it would be okay.

“It'll be alright, lad. Stay up fer me, yeah?” Soap softly spoke to him. 

So Ghost tried, he even picked up his head a little to focus on the environment around them rather than the sleepiness. It was just so hard. 

“Love, can you tell me three blue things you see?” 

I spy! Simon loved that game. Surely it was being used as a distraction, it would keep Simon up longer and that was the intention. 

Simon first looked up at Soap, chewing on his lip a little as he blinked up at him. 

“Bubba's eyes…” He began to list, a little smile slowly spreading on his face. To continue to play, he looked away again. 

Soap sweetly smiled down at the little one. Of course the first thing Simon said was his eyes. It made Johnny feel all sorts of love. Also a little guilt, for not being able to get to Simon before anything could've happened to him. 

It was too late to dwell. They were safe now, that's what mattered.

“Bubba.” Simon tugged at the collar of Johnny's shirt. He used his other hand to point at the slowly darkening sky. Blues still high in the sky. The second blue thing. He then pointed to some art on the side of a building as they were walking through their base. A mural with blue waves on it. 

“Ye’r so smart, m’ love.” Johnny enthusiastically hummed to him. Earning a giggle from Simon. 

Ghost pressed his head back against Johnny's shoulder. No effort was made to keep him up this time. A soft glimmer in his eyes and the content look on his face told Johnny that he'd make it to medical while awake. 

And he did. Mactavish and Simon came into medical, with Simon surprisingly awake. 

It was harder to get Ghost to let Johnny set him down once he was reminded what he needed done. The cut on his leg still steadily bled, but not much. Even after hours the gash had been made, it still bled a few drips. But it was enough to have a line of blood down his knee and his shin. 

Simon used his sore arms to wrap them around Johnny's neck, so he couldn't put him down without it being uncomfortable. 

Mactavish muttered something unintelligible under his breath, before moving Simon just a little bit. He didn't set him down though. 

There was some talk between the staff and the captain, but Ghost wasn't paying attention whatsoever. He was slowly moved to a cot, where he and Johnny sat down. Soap held him in his lap, but made sure he was sitting the right way so they could ditch him up. 

The second a syringe came into view, Simon was trying to back up away from it. He needed stitches, he knew that. The blood on his leg scared him as he finally saw it after only being focused on a game and Mactavish for so long. 

“Si, love- hey.” Johnny spoke, a hand coming up to cup his cheek as Simon kept trying to pull back. 

“B-bubba..” He babbled, tears welling up in his sad eyes. Simon's leg kept moving in an effort to try to make it so the staff couldn't even try to stitch him up. 

Mactavish began to put pressure on the leg, to keep Simon from shaking it. 

“No- no!” Simon pressed his face against his shirt, whimpering as he grasped at the fabric. 

“Simon, love- they're numbing ye, that's all this is, lad.” Johnny's hand gently moved to stroke his hair, rather than his cheek. 

It helped a little. Localized numbing, Simon was okay with that… Just nothing like morphine, no IV, no actual needle yet. It would be okay. 

He took a shuddering breath, and pressed his face to Mactavish's neck. His head far enough down that he could watch, even though he shouldn't be watching. 

Johnny held him close and secure, softly talking to him. After a moment of being calmed down, Simon stopped shaking his leg and stilled himself mostly. But he couldn't help that he was still tearing up and his shoulders trembling. 

A soft colored item was in his lap after a second. A staff member set it there. The sensory cube, one Simon particularly enjoyed playing with that was there specifically for him. But Roach was always allowed to play with it if he asked, Simon's rules. The soft fabric on it had most of Simon's attention.

As soon as he wasn't paying attention to anything else but the cube, the wound was wiped clean with alcohol wipes then the contents of the syringe was put around the wound. A cream they kept in a syringe for better storage. 

They let it sit as long as they could, which was only a few minutes before Simon was back to whimpering. He complained that it was cold, and it made it feel tingly. The sensory cube didn’t do much at that point, not enough to get Simon to breathe correctly. 

Mactavish couldn't help the sigh that escaped him at the boy’s whimpering and wiggling. 

But that had Simon freezing. He didn’t want his bubba to be angry at him. It just hurt! He wanted to be a good kid. He tried to calm down, a knot in his chest. It made it worse, harder to breathe. So he held his breath again. For as long as he could without passing out. He stayed still, aside from the shaking of his shoulders. 

The sudden stop made Johnny look down to see Simon. His face slowly going red as he puffed his cheeks out with the air he refused to breathe in. 

“Simon? Lad, ye need to breathe.” Johnny’s voice caught in his throat. He wrapped his arms around Simon, to hold the little one against his chest. “Ye’r okay.. I’m sorry, ‘m just worried about ye.” He attempted to comfort.

Simon’s glassy eyes finally peered up at him, the tears already spilling from them. He wanted to be well-behaved. For the medical staff, and for his bubba. His eyes averted their gaze, looking at his wounded leg instead. 

“Sorry- sorry, bubba…” The little one finally puffed out, drawing in a breath. Half a sob was ripped from his chest, making a sad attempt at holding it in. Sometimes it was hard for him not to hide it, especially when it felt like he was doing something wrong.

“Si, m’ love, none of tha’..” Mactavish spoke softly. “It’s okay to be scared.” 

He’d heard that a lot lately, but it still didn’t feel right. It didn’t stop him from dipping his head into Johnny’s chest though, to hide better. But he would also feel better if he was held so close.

So that’s what Soap did. He wrapped his arms firmly around Ghost, softly kissing the top of his head from time to time. The sobs that followed were devastating, his own chest aching as he felt the trembling of Simon’s body. 

The position was awkward. Simon kept twisting around to get even a little comfortable, but it didn’t work the way he wanted it to. Even as he was still crying, he pulled away a little. Simon refused get out of his lap to get more comfortable, so he leaned with his back against Mactavish’s chest instead. 

Johnny still reached around to wipe the tears. His arms remained firmly wrapped around his ghostie. A small kiss was pressed behind Simon’s ear.

“B-bubba..?” Simon tearily murmured, back pressing harder into Johnny. One of his hands held onto one of Soap’s arms that were around him, and squeezed.

“‘m right here, Si. I’ve got ye.” Johnny returned, his arms tightening a little around him.

It seemed he just wanted to hear him speak. No more words were spoken, but he squeezed when Mactavish stopped talking. Simon didn’t stop crying, but he was less rigid. He breathed a little clearer. So he kept talking for the little one, about how the stitches probably won’t hurt with the numbing agent, and how Johnny was going to make sure Simon got everything he wanted the rest of the day. But Mactavish’s soft spot for Simon meant it would probably be about a week of Simon getting what he wanted. 

A door opening got both of their attentions, but Simon reacted out of fear. He covered his face so no one could see the tears. And just his face in general. 

“Roach, please, buddy- Come on, you can’t keep running-” Price. And he seemed absolutely exhausted. From the sounds of it, he was trying to pull along Roach to even get him into medical. 

“Bug..?” Simon mumbled as he moved his hands away. The slow movement of his wrists stung, it didn’t stop him from looking over Mactavish’s shoulder. 

“Fuck!” Simon heard Price grunt.

Roach stopped fighting against Price’s attempts to get him into medical. He heard Simon. 

Simon sniffled a little as he reached a hand out for the pup. He whined when Soap made him put his hand down. The tears filling his eyes again from that simple action.

“Bug!” He decided to shout, trying to get Roach to come closer. Johnny didn’t fight him on that, as long as Simon didn’t move his leg. 

As soon as he was completely distracted, a nurse moved close. With the actual needle for stitching him up. Simon was completely unaware of such until the needle was pushed into the skin. The numbing practically useless.

He shrieked. 

“What the fuck?!” Mactavish shouted as he was suddenly trying to wrangle Simon until he was still. It didn’t work in his favor much at all. Apparently this nurse didn’t know Simon very well, a fresh face at base.

“Bubba!!” Simon sobbed loudly. The tears pouring out of his eyes constantly as he tried to shake and get away. 

“‘m sorry, I know, baby-!” Soap tried to hold him still. The less damage done to his leg would be better, but it didn’t really seem like Simon would give up the fight. He kept trying to push away from everyone, including Johnny. And that stung him right in the chest.

“No- no!” Simon wrecked his voice with the scream. He needed out. 

There were more hands on him, but the touch was gentle. Mactavish did most of the work of trying to hold him still. The new pairs of hands were Roach and Price. Roach’s rested on his shoulders, now sitting behind him. Simon could tell from the dip in the medical cot. Price was in front of him, a soft hand against his face. He wanted to lean into it.. It was warm. 

“It’s okay, Simon, get those tears out.” Price was soft and slow. Encouraging him to cry it out. 

The approach was much better than how panicked Soap sounded. Simon needed stable, not distressed.

As encouraged, Simon kept crying. But he now leaned into Price’s hand, while slightly relaxing into Mactavish again.

“That’s it, son. Get it all out. The nurse will wait for you to be ready.” There was a certain sharpness to Price’s tone, as if he was assuring that the nurse would wait. Simon was jumpy, something like that could quite easily become dangerous to his health. It almost did already.

“It- hurts-!” Simon choked out, grabbing back at Mactavish's arms that were around him. His whole body trembled, from head to toe. 

Roach softly began to nuzzle the back of Simon's shoulder, whimpering worriedly. 

“I know, Si.. We're gonna get ye fixed up.” Johnny spoke, trying to be assuring just like Price was, even if he was a little rougher around the edges at times. 

“I wan’ bubba to fix it…” Simon babbled through big tears. He was pressed back against Johnny fully now, while Price kept his warm hand on his cheek. 

Johnny did have experience with stitching someone up. But that someone was usually himself in an unsterile environment. And never anyone as regressed as Simon was. 

But Simon wanted him to do it. 

“I can't, love…” Mactavish tried to say, trailing off as he was being hushed by Price. 

“But, Bubba can hold you, okay? We’ll help.” Price promised. There was a good chance that Simon wouldn't let anyone but then close to him again, and a panic attack around medical supplies was the last thing they needed now. There wasn’t much more of a choice though.

“Uh-huh…” Simon mumbled, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off his face. Though they still steadily fell. 

Mactavish let out an uneven breath, looking down at Simon's wound. The bleeding was slowly ceasing, but it was very much still open. Just not gushing blood anymore. It still upset him, reminding him of the mistake he made that got Simon hurt.

“Okay, baby, I can be here and hold you through it.” Soap finally muttered, his eyes nervously glancing at his little one. He wanted to help more than just holding the boy, but if he tried to stitch it, it would probably hurt worse than what the nurse had done. 

Simon whimpered at that, turning at an odd angle to bury his face in Soap's neck. 

“Simon, son, it's scary, but it's going to help you lots. The nurses can fix you up better than we can.” Price attempted to comfort him with actual fact than just gentle words. It was something Simon liked about him, but disliked at the same time. He was always right in Simon’s eyes.

A small grumble came from Simon as he reached around Mactavish. His grip significantly tighter than before. He acknowledged that Price was right, but he didn’t want him to be. 

“Bu’ bubba’s done it before…” Simon tearily mumbled. 

“I can’t fix ye up this time, m’ love. The nurses are here to help you. Then as soon as this is over,  we can get you in a nice bath, and some cuddles, hm?” Johnny attempted to negotiate with him. As promised, Simon would get whatever he wanted. Anything. 

There had been times Soap had stitched him up in a safe house during a mission, times where Ghost had done the same for his captain a few times as well but he wasn’t as skilled with the needles. The stitches, from both of them, would always be messy and feel tighter than they should on the skin. The job got done though, which was why they did it in the first place.

Simon shuddered a little as he exhaled, his fists grabbed at Johnny’s shirt. He clutched it in his hands, eyes squeezing shut as a few tears dripped down his cheeks again. Very slowly, he nodded. His lip sucked back into his mouth, chewing lightly. 

“That’s it, love.” Mactavish praised. The arms around Simon squeezed a little, and Johnny pressed a kiss to Simon’s head. 

The cot shifted slightly as Price joined them, but mostly to shield Simon from watching when they began stitching him up. By now, the numbing must have worn off, and Price was going to make it his mission to keep Simon as distracted as possible so he didn’t feel it as much. Roach moved a little closer as well, very slightly pressed against Simon. Even with his wounds, which weren’t as deep but still needed care, he paid attention to the little one.

“We’ve got you, son, just let it out and let them do their job.” A warm hand rested on his upper back.

So Simon let the nurses work, his eyes squeezed shut as he whimpered. Small sobs came from him each time the skin was pierced. He grabbed at Roach at some point.

“Ow-ow- Bubba-” The little one softly cried, his shoulders shaking with each breath and he absentmindedly tugged Roach closer. 

“Ye’r doin’ great, Si… That’s it, baby.” Soap praised, rubbing his back in slow circles. A soft pressure on his back, by Price’s hand, reminded him that Roach was still there too. Gentle sounds of encouragement coming from him, though those were slightly pained.

“It hurts!” Simon hiccupped, his chest heaving as he breathed out.

“Simon, kid, can you tell me something you really want after this?” A simple distraction, Price was so gentle with his words. Offering anything he could reasonably get, just like Soap would for him.

“A bath-” Simon choked out, his eyes opening just a tad, “A-and- and sweets…” He sniffled.

“Okay, then bubba can give you a bath, and I could make you… hot chocolate?” Price suggested, his thumb brushing over a small spot on Simon’s back. There was a smile to his voice, one Simon listened to gladly.

“Yes, p’ease…” The little on whispered, just loud enough to hear. 

It was quickly decided that Simon would get that, and more. Price kept up with distractions, while Johnny focused on keeping Simon feeling safe and softly talking to him about how well he was doing.

The tears kept flowing, and flowing until he was only struggling for breath as the stitches were finished. A bandage was put over the stitches after any blood was cleaned off. Then the touch was gone. From the feel of the bandage, it was waterproof. The skin burned, almost a pins and needles sensation. 

“All done!” Mactavish quietly exclaimed, Simon hesitantly meeting his eyes. His eyelashes stuck together with the wetness of the tears. He sniffled softly as he leaned against him, this time without as much tension. 

Slowly, Simon closed his eyes again. His shoulders still shook, but he relaxed steadily. It hurt, but the sting of the air inside the wound was gone. Simon still rode the aftershocks of the pain.

The hand on his back, as well as the pressure of Roach’s touch was slowly removed. Simon noted a small nod from Mactavish to Price. It got his attention, but not enough for him to move at all. Then the cot went back to it’s normal position, and Simon began to shift slightly at the lost weight next to him.

He whimpered a little, a hand reaching around in an attempt to find Roach or Price. It was unsuccessful. Simon decided to simply cuddle up to Soap while he was softly talking to him. The words were lost on him, but the soothing tone was enough to get him comfortable. 

For a few minutes, it was quiet in the medical room. Until there was clattering from where Roach and Price had stepped off to. Quiet scolding, and whimpers, then an immediate apologetic tone. 

Roach scrambled down underneath a different cot. Whines were growing louder as there was more clattering, him backing up ever so slightly. Even with the blood dried, or drying, on his body, he didn’t want to be cleaned up or assessed. The pup growled weakly at Price.

“Roach.” Came a stern reply to the growls. But it didn’t have the desired effect. Roach simply tucked his head away from the hand reaching in to try to get him.

“Bug, hey. I know you don’t want to, but you need to come out. They need to take a look at ya.” Price said as if it would help. When it didn’t help, he sighed. He wasn’t disappointed, just stressed out about how the boys tried to avoid medical attention. How they would bite the hand that helped them.

Teeth bared, Roach looked at Price. He attempted to look scary, but he just looked like a wet kitten. All small and soggy. Each movement of his torso and legs hurt, but he believed he needed to stand his ground. Protecting himself so he didn’t have to be under any kind of needle, like Simon was. He knew it hurt.

“Gary, bud, come here.” Price was patient, he kneeled on the ground by the cot Roach was underneath. Seriousness shown at the use of Roach’s government name, when everyone knew he preferred Roach over his name. But at the same time, it felt nice to hear it after not for so long.

Something was handed to Price, a white cloth towel. 

“We can play all you want, hm? Tug of war?” Price suggested with a warm smile, the fabric held out to him.

Remaining scared, Roach crawled out a little bit. Enough to get a nip of the towel. He growled, but it lacked the distressed anger.

“That’s it, boy, come on out.” Slowly, Price coaxed Roach out of his hiding spot. With the promise of cuddles, treats and games. Everything the pup wanted. 

Soft steps had him stopping his movements in an instant. His head only pointed towards Price, almost a glare in his eyes. As if to ask who they were and why they were there.

“Down, bug, its Simon, okay?” 

Simon? 

Roach sat down just at the edge of the cot’s shadow, looking up at Simon with big, wondering eyes. That wasn’t so scary, not even with Mactavish behind him. Simon was already on his feet, albeit still tearily and limping. But he was up because he wanted to see Roach.

“Bug sit..?” Simon wiped his eyes with fist, using the other hand to point at the cot Roach was under.

Simple instruction had him very slowly crawling out, and hopping onto the cot. Even with the uncomfortable cloth, and the pain throughout his torso and legs, he tried to settle. Making a desperate attempt to, at least. He winced at each turn of his torso, ignoring the pain got harder the longer he dealt with it.

Simon, with Johnny’s help of lifting him enough that his fresh stitches didn’t burn with the stretch, sat down next to Roach. He smiled, though his eyes were puffy and he still looked quite distraught over getting the stitches. 

No more words were said, but Simon stayed close to him. In a way, the closeness soothed Roach more. Being close to someone like him, someone small. It brought a certain sense of ease. 

It took a moment for anyone to assess Roach's condition. But seeing as there were only minor lacerations and minimal bleeding, they opted to not do any kind of X-ray. Of course Roach's complaints had a part in that too, even if Price was saying he should do it regardless. It was ultimately his choice anyways. So no x-ray, but they had Roach remove his shirt and pants to see about the wounds there. 

Many bruises covered him, as well as small lacerations. A tiny shard had embedded itself in Roach’s side, which he somehow had been walking around with. The pain only becoming present as he was told it was there. Poor interoception at it’s best. Roach hardly got accurate signals from his body, he simply assumed the pain was from the other cuts, not the a shard in his side. It stopped the bleeding though, which was probably why he wasn’t constantly bleeding there.

Pitiful whimpers came from him as each cut was cleaned with alcohol wipes. The most superficial ones were bandaged first. The bigger ones were given butterfly bandages, to hold the wounds closed. Then they moved onto the shard. It wasn’t big whatsoever, but it was clear it causes a lot of distress. Not bad pain, mostly discomfort. 

The process was more painful than anything. The digging around to get a good grasp had Roach barking out cries. The solution wasn’t the best either, but it got him distracted.

Simon moved up the bed, and began to make silly faces at Roach, Price had a thumb up to Roach’s mouth. Specifically telling him to bite, chew, suck, whatever would keep him the most calm. And he gratefully took it, chewing against his molars. The goofy faces kept him a little more grounded. 

Mactavish, however, was nowhere to be found at a small glance around the room. Perhaps that nurse got what was coming for them by being so rough to a clearly distressed Simon. It never crossed Roach's mind, rather the calming but silly hums and faces Simon gave were taking up most of his attention. 

And then suddenly the shard was out, and Roach jolted up at the sensation. Not too far, Price had a hand quickly on an uninjured part of Roach's chest to stop him from hurting himself further. The caregiver couldn't imagine the amount of tiredness, but hurt the boys were feeling. Yet somehow managed to keep each other mostly content. 

Roach whimpered and bit down hard enough to get a slight shudder from Price at the sensation. He immediately weakened the bite, but squirmed just a little as he tried not to pay attention to whatever the nurse was doing to the wound. It wasn't a deep cut, and now the shard was out, it was time to clean, mostly. With saline, they washed out the wound and used the butterfly bandages again. 

The use of those had Simon whining about why he had to get stitches while Roach didn't. It all just came down to the deepness of the wound, and since Roach's was smaller, he got off with less medical attention. Not that he didn't need it.

Both Simon and Roach were given antibiotics as a precaution, not that Simon would touch them without being coaxed into it. It was even on his file that he probably wouldn't take medication when he was given it. Roach was easier with that, he'd take the meds in puppy space as long as he was given a treat after. 

Then Mactavish was back, a slight heave to his breath that had Price immediately knowing what he did. A nod was given between them and they both got their boys up. Roach was redressed in lended fatigues rather than his ripped and dirty clothes. He had extras, it didn't matter if it was thrown away or whatnot. 

Simon was lifted into his bubba's arms, a tiny and strained giggle came from him. His throat burning ever so slightly due to all the crying. The hot chocolate he was promised was sure to help that later on. 

For now…

“Baf’ time!” Simon softly exclaimed, his arms tucked under himself as Johnny held him. Roach quickly exchanged a glance from Simon to Price. 

He wanted a bath too. 

“Okay, okay, bug, bath time for both the boys, eh?” Price gave a hearty laugh as he picked up Roach. In no world would John let Roach walk around in such a condition. Even if he'd only be a little uncomfortable, that typically translated to pain to Roach's mind. It gave the wrong signals often. 

Roach yipped, nuzzling his nose against Price the moment he could. A clear sign that he had picked the right answer. 

And so the two pairs split off to their quarters to get their boys baths.

Roach's was extra bubbly. And there were a few times he tried to lick the bubbles because they looked fun. It took forever to get him to even settle down. He kept squirming and whining whenever Price tried to get him clean when he wasn't ready yet. 

Unlike Simon. He was truly ready to rest. He let Mactavish wash him with no issues, rarely even drawing on the walls of the tub. That was how tired he was. So very exhausted. Playtime in the bath was only about ten minutes before Simon started to complain that he wanted to get out. The wash up was quick, but it got all the possible dirt on him. Soap was gentle to make sure he didn't hurt Simon either. 

This time, dressing him was easy. Getting his hair dry was simple. In under thirty minutes, they got Simon washed, dressed and sleepy. An accomplishment, really. Usually the dressing part was hard. Especially getting him into a diaper when he didn't want it. It was needed though. For when Simon panicked in a dream, or when he didn't get the right signals in his body, or something scared him. Over time, they learned this was their best solution. 

And honestly, Mactavish found him so adorable like that. A pouty red face, damp hair, a pacifier between his lips. He just looked so itty bitty. 

There was an attempt to get Simon into their bed, but it was quickly interrupted by Simon whining and squirming as he pointed at the door. His cheeks even puffed out to exaggerate his point. 

Ah, yes, the hot chocolate. And Johnny promised to get Simon whatever he wanted. 

So to the living quarters they went. Where it was just him, price, Simon and Roach around. It seemed their bath was a little harder than Simon’s of course, with how damp Price’s shirt was and how he looked a little more tired than usual. 

The energy never seemed to stop with Roach, even if he was hurt. But Simon never blinked an eye at it. He simply saw toys on the floor, and a happy pup that he wanted to join. Although he was tired, he wanted to play. 

With a little bit of convincing (whines and huffs), Soap put Simon down to play, but told him to be careful of the stitches. To which he scrunched his nose at. 

Mostly there were puppy toys, but Simon spotted some that he could play with. 

Much like the faux puppy ears and tail Roach now sported, Simon was also in a more comfortable regression outfit. A onesie, but he wore pants over the bottom part. They both were quite cozy. 

“Bug!” Simon said behind his pacifier as he settled himself down on the floor, on their rug with toys. A soft grin on his face. The tears long gone, wiped off with the rest of the dirt and grime of the day.

Roach perked up in an instant, excited eyes glancing Simon’s way. He crawled up close to Simon, even with his wounds. Surely Price had already gotten Roach his first dose of the antibiotics and some pain reliever. The other two always seemed on top of that sort of thing, while Simon and Mactavish procrastinated, or forgot, to take care of that sort of thing.

A happy bark came from Roach, a little louder than intended. A soft hushing from Mactavish got him to quiet down. Roach still barked, but quieter. He pressed his head firmly against Simon’s shoulder, nudging him. 

Simon couldn’t help but giggle a little. His arms wrapped around Roach, one hand going to pet him. 

It only took about two minutes for them to end up cuddled on the floor. Roach chewed on a silicone bone, while he leaned on Simon. The pup had nestled himself perfectly at Simon’s side. And Simon didn’t mind. He pet Roach and babbled nonsense to him for quite a while, getting barks, yips or whines in return. It felt like a full conversation to them both. 

They remained closely cuddles for an awful long time. Till Simon’s back hurt, but he didn’t want to move. Small whines got this across, but neither of them made an effort to get up.

“Simon! Hot chocolate!” He heard Price shout, a little gasp coming from him. “Roach, treats!” 

The both of them scrambled to get up, Simon helping Roach so he didn’t pull any of the bandages while getting up. Simon then stood once Roach was steady, he could smell the hot chocolate, and food for the both of them.

The boys settled onto the couch, since Mactavish told them to sit there instead of the table. One of the few occasions they were allowed to sit there to eat. There were rules for them, even when small. 

It was a simple meal for Simon, then something special made for Roach. Treats and a meal fit for the pup. Meat with some plain pasta. The treats were little candies, and a yummy looking pastry. Simon had just simple and plain pasta, a safe food of his, with just a little bit of salt. Nothing too much for him. The hot chocolate was set on a side table, left of the couch.

And finally, Mactavish and Price joined them on the couch. Both having plates of the leftover pasta but they has sauce on theirs, just some from a can. Mactavish set his aside for now, in favor of putting an arm around Simon and helping him eat.

No one would say it to his face, but they all knew Simon was messy with his food. Even Roach was cleaner than him and he struggled with utensils when he was regressed. 

Slowly, Mactavish fed Simon his food, wiping his mouth with a cloth whenever he drooled a little. It was no surprise that there was still a small mess by the time he was finished. 

Roach took the longest to finish, like he usually did. His hands were a little messy by the time he was done, Price very gently cleaned him off with a dampened towel, and gave him a kiss on his forehead. A big grin spreading on his face. 

Simon watched them briefly, his head tilted a little. He made a soft “mmrrph” sound, similar to a sound a cat may make when searching for attention. 

“Love, he just finished eatin’, let him settle first.” Johnny spoke, carding his hand through Simon’s hair. He pressed a gentle kiss to his head again. But Simon didn’t want to wait. He whined louder, though he was leaning close to Mactavish again. Simon’s eyes kept following Roach’s movements, even if they were small.

“Buuug..” Simon yawned after some looks in his direction from his bubba. He knew he was just told not to, but Roach looked so comfortable all cuddled up at Price’s side. He wanted bug cuddles too. 

And it seemed Roach got the memo immediately. His big eyes happily blinking up at Simon. He, not so gracefully, flopped around to move over to Simon. To get the attention both he and Simon wanted, he pressed his head back against Simon’s shoulder.

“Buggy!” Simon squeaked, less sleepiness to his tone. His hands went to Roach’s hair first, petting with one hand while the other gently scratched behind his ear. “Puuuuppy…” He whispered very quietly.

Roach yipped excitedly. He looked back up at Simon, before immediately diving his head into the crook of his neck. The two of them cuddled up together, with Price and Mactavish at either side of them. One of Johnny’s arms remained around Simon, the little one would whine whenever he tried to remove it.

There were no words to tell Roach to calm down, judging by the way the boys curled up together, they were only getting comfortable. They tangled together, Simon leaned on Soap while Roach got cozy against Simon. When they were situated, a blanket was draped over them. 

With Simon still sitting up, he whined for the mostly forgotten hot chocolate. It was probably only warm by now, but there wasn’t a single complaint from the little one. 

Soap watched closely as Simon drank, keeping an eye out for any trembling or whimpers. No matter the amount of times Simon was told it was okay to accidentally make a mess by spilling something, he would always tear up each time. So, to avoid it, Mactavish watched closely. 

There was no sign Simon would drop the sippy cup. From time to time, Roach would nuzzle his belly and make him giggle, but that was about the extent of the movement. Aside from Simon petting him lots, but he held the cup in one hand while he did it. 

Content rumbles came from Roach. With a full belly, it was hard to stay awake much more. Simon was in the same boat. The second he finished the hot chocolate, he gave it to one of caregivers and leaned back against Mactavish again. He slightly curled to hold onto Roach, though.

A familiar hum began from behind him, Johnny humming to the boys. One of his thumbs traced small circles into the skin just under Simon’s ear in the same way he’d done so many times before. The only variation was the occasional heart being traced instead, it always had Simon smiling again, even giggling at times. But mostly, it was lulling him into a more relaxed state.

Both Price and Mactavish seemed to understand it would be hard for any of them to sleep. Neither made any attempt to move the boys. Even if they couldn’t sleep, they could rest. That was important after the day they had. Still, Mactavish forgot to get Simon his medication. But moving now would certainly be a bad thing, they looked too cozy.

“Buggy…” Simon babbled, softly touching the fake puppy ears on Roach’s head as if they were real. 

Roach replied with a simple nuzzle to Simon’s belly, but he didn’t move much more than that. The blanket tucked around the two of them quickly became more Gary’s than Simon’s. 

“Mmmh.. puppy..” Simon mumbled, almost unintelligible. His head leaned back, pressed to Mactavish’s chest. His eyes half lidded.

Hushed chuckles came from both of the caregivers. Price rested his hand on Roach’s side while the pup had his legs stretched over his lap, an assuring touch. A show was turned on at some point, soft background noise of a random kids show. It got Simon’s shoulders to drop further into  a relaxed position. Mactavish never ceased the gentle tracing of the shapes behind Simon’s ear. It eased the little one to close his eyes.

The closest thing they got to sleep was dozing. They were all lucky they would get time off, the captains would fight for it if they were told no to the request. No words were said. If they told the boys to rest, both the caregivers knew they’d be up in an instant, so they pretended not to notice their tiredness. 

Everything was quiet and calm, unlike the start of their day. Full bellies, stitched up, warm, and cared for again. It wasn’t that scary, but Simon didn’t let his eyes close for more than a few minutes at a time. Small whimpers came from the boy before he would open his eyes again. 

Mactavish was always there. His hand softly cradled Simon’s head as he pressed a few kisses along his forehead. The tickling of the stubble of his beard got him a little more grounded. There wasn’t anyone that was going to hurt him, Simon knew that, but he still struggled to get comfortable again. The unease returned to his face.

“Bubba’s got you, dove… Shh, it’s okay.” Johnny spoke to him, very soft. 

Simon blinked up at him, his eyes getting glassy once again. He held Roach tighter like he was some sort of stuffed animal. But the pup didn’t mind, he practically sensed the distress. Roach nuzzled his chest as he was pulled up a little. His comfortable position being taken away on accident.

“We’ve all got ye, baby… Ye’ll always be safe with us…” With all of them. He trusted that. If they hadn’t split up, they would’ve made it home safe. 

Slowly, he nodded and tucked his face back into Johnny’s shirt, against the plush muscles. The sniffles were still noticed though.

Mactavish and Price shared a look of sympathy, Johnny looked down at Simon sadly. He removed his arm from under him, but didn’t get a whine again. His arms wrapped around the little one, rubbing his back with one arm and using the other to brush through the black hair.

“Let it out, son…” Price spoke gently to Simon.

Their positions shifted. Roach was back in Price’s lap, but they moved closer to Simon again. The large blanket able to cover all of them if they were close. 

With a little bit of struggle, Simon softly let out a few cries. The leftover stress begging to come out as he clutched onto Johnny’s shirt and reached back to grab onto Roach as well. No sobs or wailing, just soft cries with occasional whimpers. 

“That’s it, dove… We’ve got you.” Mactavish encouraged. Neither of them could promise it would all be okay now, but with their target down and Simon and Gary home safe, they could do everything in their power to keep it all okay. 

The cries tampered off after some time. Simon refused to move, chest against chest as they cuddled on the couch. Mactavish was leaned back a little against the arm of the couch, while he held Simon. Still, even in the odd position, Simon didn’t want to let go of Roach. The pup felt the same way, reaching over to keep his hold on Simon. 

As much as Simon tried, he couldn’t get any words out. Even just to call his bubba’s name. It just came out as babbles and cooing. He slipped further. His face buried into Johnny’s chest.

Mactavish didn’t have to ask, he knew already. Gently, he rubbed Simon’s back. The humming resumed, the very same one reserved for Simon. 

The boy’s head turned, able to see the small TV playing a children’s show. It caught his eyes. He didn’t feel like he could let his eyes close, no matter how small he got. Simon verged on thinking too much and not at all, even though he was just tiny. The thoughts were hardly comprehensible, but something in his head was scary. That much he knew. 

His grip on Roach loosened in favor of tucking his arms underneath himself. 

Roach whined a little at that. In the very small space between the couch, Soap, and Simon, Roach decided to crawl in between the small space. He could fit, easily and comfortably. But that didn’t stop Price from telling him not to. But Gary already decided what he wanted to do, so he was going to do it regardless.

He let out a small whine as he very lightly nudged Simon with his head. He whimpered softly, both in worry and because he wanted his attention. 

Simon’s head turned, his cheek now squished against Johnny’s chest. A very tiny smile appeared on his face as he looked at Roach, he rested his arm over him. 

A smile spread on Mactavish’s face as he watched them. He softly brushed through Simon's hair. It was so sweet to him, seeing the both of the boys interact so sweetly despite everything. 

The video call never left his mind, but to see them looking content like this felt special. A representation of just how close Gary and Simon had gotten over time. Any time Simon remained regressed after something traumatic was relieving to Soap and Price, it meant Simon would lean on them for help rather than hiding or ignoring it. They did still have to work on Simon trusting that Mactavish would be there to catch him if he fell, but for now this was enough.

Price watched them as the three got more comfortable. The blanket being moved for the third time to cover them, undeniably amused by just how much Roach and Simon wanted to stay close.

No one dared to pull them apart.

They both got comfortable. Roach chewing on the skin of his hand while cuddled up, Simon having his pacifier popped by into his mouth when Johnny realized he didn’t have it. He nuzzled against Mactavish’s chest, but he didn’t let go of Roach for a second. 

It took a while, but Simon’s breathing evened out. The redness around his eyes faded, and that sleepy look returned. His eyes never stayed closed, but he was able to relax. 

Mactavish, on the other hand, was asleep while holding the both of them close. Already knocked out with Simon in his arms, Roach next to them, and Price sitting close. 

And of course Price was fondly shaking head at that. If a phone wasn’t so far, he would have taken a picture, but he just had to remember for now. The sweet image of them cuddled up together. The heavy eye bags weighed down on Soap’s face, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes. He was so tired, but content with their lives these days. 

Sometimes they all almost forgot their jobs whenever everything was sweet like this. At least, Price didn’t forget. The light in the boy’s eyes made him think they forgot, they looked so happy.

Simon yawned softly. His head turned to see the TV again, blinks slowing and slowing.

“I’ll be here, boys, okay?” He heard Price speak, then felt the gentle weight of a hand on his lower leg. To assure him, Simon knew that. 

For a long while, Simon verged on dozing, and asleep. But Roach seemed to be able to stay up a while, with his attention on the TV. 

And as promised, Price never left their sides. Protecting them while Johnny got his much needed sleep. He would be there all night if it meant the boys were comfortable and safe.

Simon metaphorically leaned on him for protection now. Hazily sleepy eyes occasionally glancing at Price before they closed again. Over and over until his eyes remained closed for the night. Gary wasn’t as easy to soothe to sleep, he wasn’t easy to get to sleep at any time. It wasn’t a surprise to Price whatsoever. 

And so he remained close. 

Roach shifted, until he decided to crawl out of the cuddle huddle the three previously had. He curled up at Price’s side, his head on his lap. A low, happy rumble in his chest. 

“That’s a good boy, Roach…” Price muttered to him, his hand slowly carding through his hair. He found all the nice spots Roach liked scratched. He had them all memorized anyways. 

Another content grumble eased the nerves that still wracked through Price’s system. He scratched lightly behind the pup’s ear.

“I’m so proud of you, bug.. You did great protecting Simon, and you did amazing at medical…” Price softly spoke the words he knew Gary needed to hear, them all honest. He needed to say it too.

Roach turned his head, biting Price’s wrist gently and pulling his hand down close where he proceeded to gently lick or nip at the skin. The low rumbles of his chest filling the otherwise mostly quiet room. Never once did Price stop him, even if it was a little painful when he bit. It felt more loving than anything else these days, sometimes hugs didn’t even feel as good as the sweet bites or licks Roach would give as affection. His chest ached, in the best way possible.

With his other hand, Price slowly pet Roach. Watching him with soft eyes.

“Good boy…” Price breathed out, letting his head lean back against the plush back of the couch. His eyes closed as he relaxed.

There was shifting, and suddenly a light lick on his cheek. He couldn’t help but laugh quietly. His eyes opened again to give Roach a few more pets and a kiss on the forehead. 

Roach gave a wide smile, and a soft yip. He clambered forward until most of him was on Price’s lap. And of course Price didn’t fight with him on it, he didn’t want to. 

“You’re so needy.” Price said amongst chuckles. He ruffled the hair on Roach’s head, making a bit of a mess of it. He got a playful growl in return.

“Okay, okay-” Price fixed his hair for him, “But we can’t play while they’re resting… Lay your head down too, you definitely need it.”

The simple attempt got Roach to lay his head back down on him, his eyes didn’t close but he at  least began to settle. His energy remained high, so Price made sure he had a bone to chew on.

Aside from the occasional kind whisper from Price, or a happy rumble from Roach, it was quiet again. The four of them able to get full breaths in, finally. As promised, Price was up all night with them, even long after Gary managed to fall asleep. He protected them, the worry lingered but each deep breath pulled the thought away.

His boys were safe, his men were okay. All of them were okay. The after action reports could, and would, wait. Everything would still be there in the morning. It would all be okay in the morning. Price looked over one more time at the boys, the sun peeking through the curtains on the windows. They were all still cuddled up, warm and Simon was even smiling in his sleep.

That was good.

With one last pet of Roach’s head, Price closed his eyes and let himself be pulled into the darkness of sleep. 

They were safe.

[ogjellyfisher]

I auditioned for a part in a dracula play (renfield) using a spongebob monologue (gary takes a bath ep) 😭 I fear I might not get a part esp because I learned my entire monologue 2 hours before auditions