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icallhimjoey · 7 months ago

Text

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, lil smutty, reader has hair long enough to tie up, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: oohhh big changes! we are TALKING! with our MOUTHS! what a time. This is the last part of flatmate!Joe - for real this time. I truly hope you've enjoyed what is still my most plotless (imo) bit of writing, lmk your thoughts <3

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

There was something living inside of your chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Soft. Vulnerable. Silently shrinking. It had gotten hurt and was wearing its bruises on the outside. When it got poked, you could feel the shooting pains as it curled in on itself more. It would find the safest spots to squeeze its eyes shut and you’d mentally tell it, it’s okay. You’re okay.

It wasn’t okay.

Maybe therapy wasn’t an insane suggestion, anymore, at this point. You felt like you were protecting a child to the point where you couldn’t let it see the light of day. Couldn’t let it go outside and play. Couldn’t let it have friends – let it meet Joe. Couldn’t let it experience anything joyful, because if you did, it’d probably experience more hurt too.

But it was hurting anyway.

And now it was only pain it got to feel. Never joy. Just bruises and cuts. Scrapes that slowly formed thick drops of blood that hardened into scabs which pulled at your skin and eventually turned into scars.

You wished you’d known that before you locked it up inside.

There was something living inside of your chest, and it carefully wished it could speak up and be heard.

When you’d walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, a surprised Josh raised his eyebrows at you. He was leaning back into the sofa and had an acoustic guitar in his lap that he was absentmindedly playing whilst he was watching TV on a low volume. The guitar playing stopped when he saw you and didn’t pick back up as he watched you walk over, pillow in hand, facial expression drained.

“Hey, what’s up?” the guitar got moved onto the floor.

You didn’t answer when you put your pillow down on the opposite end of the sofa and took the blanket you’d slept under before. You curled up, ignored Josh who tried to ask if you were okay a couple of times as you stared at the TV. He asked if you wanted to talk about it. Said you probably should talk about it if you didn’t want Josh to think about this all night.

“It’s going to keep me up if I don’t know if you’re okay.”

You ignored it all, didn’t give a shit if Josh was going to get a good night’s sleep, and eventually turned over and faced the back of the sofa. It sent the message it needed to. It took just another moment before Josh turned off the TV, and then the lights as he left you alone.

This was stupid.

But you were stubborn.

You were stubborn and were going to go to sleep on your sofa, even though you were the one that lived here, and maybe Joe should be the one to sleep on the sofa.

Or actually, he could go home. To his own flat. Where all things were his, and the only things that felt like they were yours were the plants you’d brought in and the toothbrush you’d left by his sink.

Yea.

Joe could just leave.

You didn’t care that he was still paying rent.

But you didn’t actually get up to go and tell him that. Of course not. You just wallowed in thought. In all the would-dos and would-says. Shivered because this new stupid blanket Josh got wasn’t thick enough to keep you warm throughout the night.

You made yourself cry inside of that soup of goopy misery. Felt what lived inside of your chest as it drowned and mentally apologised to it when, after three hours of not being able to actually go to sleep, after three hours of anger that turned into fragile neediness, you decided to get up and make your way back.

Find Joe.

Because, and fuck him for this, Joe always knew how to fucking fix it.

And there was something so silly about walking down the hallway of your flat with tears staining your cheeks to sneak into Joe’s old bedroom. To find Joe inside of the bed there, the lay-out of the room still the same. Joe’s side of the bed still the same.

The click of the door closing made Joe lift his head up in an attempt to see into the dark.

He hadn’t expected you at all, so for a second, he thought that maybe you’d just walked in to get something. Your phone. Or your charger. But then you walked around to your side of the bed and got under the covers. It was too dark to see your face, but you found Joe’s warm body and snuggled up. Pressed your forehead to his jaw and hummed through a sigh and Joe didn’t need to see your face to hug you closer. Didn’t need to see if you’d been crying to wrap arms around, and to tangle legs, and to press a small kiss into your hair.

You wiggled as you settled and sighed as you sunk deeper into the mattress. You could deal with the disappointment within yourself in the morning.

“I’m sorry.” Joe whispered into the dark, and you decided you could also deal with your disappointment in Joe in the morning, so you softly whined and said, “Pause.”

“Pause?”

“Mhm.”

Everything could just be paused. Postponed. Just for a few hours. You just needed to get some sleep.

Joe wasn’t in a position to not accept that. His heart felt full with the nostalgia he unexpectedly found with you sneaking into this room in order to get some sleep. It used to be like this. He was in the same location. In the exact same spot. Just, everything was yours now.

Me too, Joe thought.

Everything was yours now, including Joe. Whether you wanted him or not.

He squeezed you tighter and saw that you got to sleep. Traced finger tips across skin that warmed under the covers, and tickled into your hair by the nape of your neck, and he could feel how you were drifting off and, fuck off, he was yours.

He’d tell you in the morning.

Joe was going to tell you in the morning.

He would.

When Joe woke up, you were gone.

Fucking figures, Joe thought.

The private moment of waking up together that would’ve granted him the security and comfortability to say whatever needed saying was gone now.

Joe rubbed both hands over his face and scolded himself for not waking up as you had gotten out.

But it was fine.

There’d be another moment for it, he’d make sure.

Venturing out of your bedroom, you weren’t in the bathroom. Nor in the living area. He did, however, find Josh in the kitchen.

After awkward but polite good mornings shared, there was some uncomfortable shuffling around. Joe had made breakfast thousands of times in this kitchen, and he was already reaching to open the fridge when he realised that, actually, that was a weird thing to do. He no longer lived there. He couldn’t just go into cupboards and find the food that he knew was there – he knew exactly where the oatmeal went. He knew exactly where to find the cinnamon to sprinkle on top. How the coffee machine worked. Which cupboard to open to find the mugs.

Joe opted to busy himself making a coffee first. The machine was right there on the counter – less weird to reach for it and prepare himself a morning brew.

And Josh was cool about it. Opened a cupboard for him to fetch him a mug. It was a bit of an awkward dance, but a friendly one, tight smiles shared as Josh prepared his own breakfast.

It wasn’t until the loud noise of coffee beans being ground up that Joe decided to just… ask.

Might as well act like last night actually happened.

“Sorry about last night, mate,”

“Oh yea, no worries, I didn’t…” Josh frowned and shook his head as he scraped some butter onto his toast. He didn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t need to. Took a bite before buttering the second piece.

“Have you seen her?” Joe tried sounding as casual as he could, but failed miserably.

It was as honest and vulnerable of a question he was ever going to ask Josh. It revealed he had no idea where the fuck you’d gone, which in and of itself revealed that there was probably a reason you hadn’t told him.

But Josh was relaxed about it.

“Yea. Morning run. You just missed her, I think.”

And it took all within Joe to pretend that didn’t surprise him as much as it did. He just nodded. Pretended like that was a normal thing to hear about. Morning run. Sure. Miss be-useful-first-thing, what the fuck? When had you picked up that habit?

The coffee machine stopped whirring, and Joe took his coffee. Went for a sip immediately and instantly burnt his tongue. Rookie move.

“Is um… is everything okay? I don’t want to pry, but,” Josh asked as Joe moved around the island to sit down.

“Ah, well… you know,”

No, actually, Josh didn’t know.

Which was good.

Joe didn’t really want him to know.

Joe didn’t really want to explain.

Couldn’t really explain.

Where the fuck would he even begin?

“Hmm, yea,” Josh accepted the non-answer easily. “She seemed upset, but wouldn’t really say anything.”

Joe had to suppress a smile.

Of course you hadn’t fucking said anything.

“I asked like fifty times if she was okay, but she… I don’t know, she fully ignored me I guess. Kind of went catatonic on me a little.”

Joe drank his coffee and nodded.

“To be fair though,” Josh made big eyes at himself, “I was being really fucking annoying. I would’ve rolled over and ignored me too, I think.”

Both men let huffs of air escape them in silent laughter.

Then a moment of silence followed where Joe drank his coffee and Josh ate his toast. Joe realised he didn’t like how Josh knew things about you that he didn’t, but the upside was that it was incredibly useful, actually.

Josh talked where you... well, you did not.

“Did she cry?”

He wanted to know.

“No, she just… watched TV for a bit. I don’t know, she seemed tired so I went to bed shortly after to make sure she could get some sleep.”

That meant that, if you’d cried, you had waited for Josh to leave the room. Joe didn’t know if that was a comforting thought or not.

It didn’t take much longer for Josh to finish his toast and to casually suggest for Joe to make his own breakfast. Mentioned that everything on the bottom shelves of the fridge was yours before he walked out, and this morning was just full of surprises.

You split the fridge?!

What kind of sensible flatmate behaviour was this?!

When it was you and Joe, your stuff would just be thrown in wherever. None of it sorted. Joe would end up having your oatmilk in his coffee and you’d end up using his cheese in your omelettes.

Actually, he remembered how this had been the source of bickering for more than once. More than a couple of times. You would fall out over Joe having your food all the time, if he really thought about it. But it was always playful. Always something fun about it. A reason to swear at him until you made yourself laugh, and a reason for him to shut you up with poking fingers in your sides. The back and forth had never prompted you to split the fridge.

Had you and Joe ever been normal flatmates?

Probably not, he guessed.

Joe decided against breakfast in the end and just finished his coffee. Waited until you got back from your morning run, which he still had a hard time wrapping his head around, and when he eventually heard the front door open, he got up to make you a drink.

You knew Joe was still there by his coat that was hung up by the front door.

Fine.

It was fine.

You were sweaty and sticky and hot and you could feel your heartbeat in your face, but it was fine.

Walking into the kitchen, you were welcomed by Joe in jeans and a T-shirt, bare feet, hair stupid, already holding out a glass of juice for you.

You took it and refrained from talking as you had a sip. Looked at him over the glass though, and you hoped that what Joe would see was determination. Strength. That he saw someone who wasn’t going to take bullshit, because you weren’t.

You’d just gone for your very first morning run for fuck’s sake.

For a moment Joe just looked right back at you. Watched you have the drink he poured for you. You had bits of hair stuck to your flushed neck and had to breathe through flared nostrils. It was wildly attractive, if you asked him.

“Morning run?”

You caught a small smirk from Joe that you turned away from. Couldn’t look at him be cute when you were supposed to be mad at him still.

Then, in a rogue move, Joe opened the freezer and took a single look inside to find a frozen pizza he took out and tossed onto the counter.

That was meant to mean something.

You gave it a blank stare as Joe looked at you and you sighed.

“Hey,” Joe tried getting your attention back on him, but instead, you put the glass down and turned around. Walked out. Went to your bedroom.

Joe followed.

“Hey,” Joe tried again, stood in your doorway, watching you collect an outfit. “Talk to me.”

It went ignored.

This was the worst part of not having an ensuite; having to take just enough clothes into the bathroom to change in there. You and Josh weren’t exactly on a just-a-towel level yet. Bathrobe felt scandalous too, somehow, even for the five steps it took to get from your bedroom into the bathroom.

Josh could see you in clothes or not see you at all.

Joe easily moved aside when you walked past him, out of your room, and you looked at him as you did.

“Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Joe tried again.

It didn’t feel like you were fully ignoring him, but you weren’t answering him either.

You were thinking Joe was being an idiot.

You were trying, had been trying really hard to meet him where he wanted to be met, and then he just went and let you know he didn’t trust… you? Your flatmate? The situation he’d created with his own two hands?

Felt unfair.

You didn’t say any of that though. Just walked into the bathroom, and then left the door open.

Joe would get the hint, you thought.

He did, but only when you started peeling off your sweat-soaked top with the door wide open, still.

Joe moved quick. Sort of scrambled to get into the bathroom, to lock the door behind him, and then to help you get your top over your head as you struggled with the damp fabric around your shoulders.

You undressed, and Joe helped, and you made eye-contact the whole time.

You could see how he was searching. Trying to find whatever you weren’t saying in your eyes, his chin tucked in, his eyes pleading, all soft and rounded.

Joe tried.

He really tried.

You were getting naked right in front of him, body flushed and glistening with sweat and he got a good look as you stretched your body over the bath to turn the shower on and then you kept staring right at him as you removed more clothes and you were doing something with your eyes and Jesus fucking Christ, Joe was trying.

Trying to not grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake.

Trying not to let his eyes skirt downward because you’d just removed your sports bra and, oof, man, that was a lot of skin on show.

Joe was trying not to hold you by the face and trying not to get real close and trying not to whisper words into your mouth in hopes of coaxing out some of your own. Which… he failed. Because he did get your face into both his hands just after you’d reached up to untie your hair. He did get real close. And he did ask you once more to just talk to him, please.

You handled the close eye-contact fine.

Handled the cupping of your face fine.

And Joe couldn’t stop searching your face.

Was there truly no budging?

Was this… was this it?

Had he just gone and fucked it all up for himself? Had the big plan behind his move imploded because he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were now… no longer in his flat with him? Joe’s mind tried to make sense of it, but all he could really come up with, was that you probably didn’t even consider the two of you to be together.

You’d never talked about that.

Had never mentioned it.

Hadn’t labeled it.

You were just close flatmates that weren’t actually flatmates anymore, and… and now what?

He just wanted you to talk.

You were just in your underwear now, stood in a small bathroom and Joe ticked off all boxes in his mind: you were alone, check. You were close, check. You were in your safe space, check.

The shower was hot now, slowly filling the room with warm steam and, fuck, if you would just fucking talk.

Joe was about to repeat himself. Was about to say it again. But then he saw it.

Something changed.

Your eyes softened and your mouth tightened as you tried to keep your lips wobbling. As you tried to not let what was living inside of your chest get out. When you started blinking more rapidly as your eyes stung with tears, you also began avoiding eye-contact and, good. This was good. Joe let you go then, and watched as you got out of your last piece of clothing before you stepped into the shower.

You left the shower curtain open, and Joe thought he’d never undressed quite so fast.

You’d never shared a shower before.

Something about it felt really momentous, but you didn’t have the opportunity to think about it for too long. The thought vanished just as quickly as it had crossed your mind, because when Joe stepped into the bath behind you and held you by the shoulders before curling his arms around to hold you close, you decided that, actually, you were going to talk.

“You left,” you started, voice far thinner than you wanted it to be.

“I know.”

“You left and you’re making me feel bad about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. It’s not my fault you moved out,” you reached up to hold onto Joe’s arm across your front and you felt how your eyebrows knitted together when you softly followed with, “Is it?”

And, fuck.

Something snapped into Joe’s chest.

Something swelled and popped.

He didn’t know what that was, all he knew was that it hurt.

“No!” Joe tightened his arms before he let you go enough to turn around. “No, baby, of course not, is that– do you think I left because of you?”

You looked at each other, and for a moment, Joe didn’t know if he was looking at shower water or tears that were running down your face.

You gave a small shrug before Joe lifted his hands to your face to wipe at your cheeks. If they were tears, they had no business being there, so he needed them gone.

“I didn’t leave this place because of you. Hey,” you avoided eye-contact, so he grabbed hold of you by the face again where both your of your hands found his wrists. “Look at me. Look– I did not move out because of you, all right?”

Well, he did… but, it was nuanced. He moved out for the both of you. He had to be careful. He couldn’t say the wrong thing and ruin what already felt ruined enough.

You gave a tiny nod that he could feel more than he could see, and you looked so fucking sad, Joe couldn’t help but move in to try and kiss some of it from your face.

He hoped you believed him.

You were naked in a shower together, of which Joe was getting none of the stream, and you were trembling because of things Joe had said and done and all he could think to do was hold you.

So he did.

It was a terrible waste of water, but it felt so incredibly necessary for him to not pull back until you did. Let you take the lead. Curl an arm around your head, the other around your waist, and follow your pace.

Joe felt how you were trying to control your breathing, and, you were right. He wasn’t allowed to be the cause.

He was the reason why you were feeling the way you were feeling and he realised he had been, for a while, probably.

Joe pushed you.

Joe had been pushing you.

He shouldn’t have.

He shouldn’t have left and he shouldn’t have tried with all his might to keep you as close to him as you had been before and he shouldn’t have taken his jealousy out on you and he shouldn’t have repeatedly asked you to talk to him because look! Look what all of it had lead to?

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

No more making you meet him halfway.

Joe was going to wait for you.

He would.

It didn’t fucking matter how long it was going to take you, or if you’d even get there at all. He was going to wait. If that meant actually befriending Josh like a normal person, then he was just going to have to befriend Josh like a normal person.

Joe held you close until your finger tips stopped digging into his skin so much, and then he softly said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

And, you frowned. Because what the fuck was Joe talking about.

“But…” you started, and you felt it then. You could feel whatever was inside of your chest collect every little speck of bravery it could find within your body. It pulled it from the muscles in your legs and from the bones in your arms. Found some hidden inside the beating of your heart and then some more in the humid shower air inside your lungs. And then, it said it.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked at you. Didn’t get it.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait. Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…” you furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you. All bravery gone.

Joe saw.

Heard what you were saying and, before you even fucking knew what was happening, Joe had both his arms around your waist and lifted you up, effectively pressing his face right into your tits as he scared the living daylights out of you because you were in the bath.

“Joe–” you shrieked, but were quickly shut up by his mouth that pressed to yours before your feet had even properly touched down again.

“I love you.” Joe squeezed it from his own mouth right into yours. Barely got the words out normal as he didn’t want to stop kissing. Didn’t want to break contact, lips and hands doing the most.

“Joe,” you laughed, giving his shoulders a light push before you felt something against your hip, and– oh.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that. I love you. Did you hear me? I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

Joe froze before he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut, and you looked down to see how hard that had made him.

“I love you too,” you repeated yourself and saw it jump, leaking already, and Jesus, that was quick. This was a fun game actually. Talking suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him.

You took your shot and bit right into his fingers.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

And, yea, you could actually. You shut Joe up with kisses of your own this time.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

It felt momentous because you’d shared words that had been stuck in the back of your throat for a while now.

It felt momentous because Joe just told you that he loved you.

It felt momentous because you said it right back and everything about it felt right.

It felt momentous because you were going to have loud shower sex and Josh was likely going to hear you and you actually didn’t care about it. You cared more about the pizza that was slowly defrosting on the kitchen counter which actually sounded like the perfect breakfast food, if you were being honest.

You and Joe were just flatmates, but not.

Were just close, but more.

Were in love. Had said the words now, for the other to hear with their ears, and wasn’t that a shocking turn of events after last night?

Joe couldn’t explain it if he tried.

Didn’t really want to either.

As long as you knew. As long as you understood.

And you did. The proof was in the pudding.

Something felt alive in Joe’s chest. And in yours too.

Maybe someday, they could meet.

Have a chat.

Talk things through.

Or not.

They could also just look at each other. Sit on the sofa. Curl into each other and eat pizza. Watch the first ten minutes of films before they’d doze off together. Make fun of plants that got overwatered in a desperate attempt to keep them alive because they were buddies with yours and Joe could never be responsible for the death of plants that had friends, were you joking?

They’d call you idiots.

And, yea you were.

But it was fine.

You were just close. In love. Together. And that didn’t need explaining. As long as you knew and understood, that was all that mattered.

You were all that mattered.

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

Your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #reinvent love #define close #explain us

173 notes · View notes

elsweetheart · 2 years ago

Note

ok hi same anon and i agree, i’m not a stone but i love stone identities so much! also can i pls get some nsfw hcs of stone ellie helping her gf de-stress during exam season :))))

stone tops are the backbone of our society i salute them i also giggle and kick my feet for them🫡

combining this request with this one:

your dealer!ellie au is so so so so good !!! her talking about how pretty you are with pretty pink eyes… im literally barking rn pls do a part 2 (maybe with some smut cause im down bad) if you have the chance !!! <3 xoxoxox

it’s dealer!ellie i hope you don’t mind! gotta love our stone stoner 🤭

brief daddy kink mention + obvious usage of weed so skip if that makes u uncomfy. fem reader !

herbal therapy — dealer!ellie

🎀 smut !! reader calls ellie daddy, drugs are involved, mentions of stress

• it had been a long week, you had literally been living in the library with your head buried in your books and laptop preparing for your exams. pressure was being applied from everywhere in your life, and before you reached your breaking point you decided to grant yourself a day to relax.

• well, you don’t exactly decide — you can’t concentrate on your work because you started crying due to the stress, and in that moment you just needed your girlfriend to make it all go away.

• so, you show up to her dorm with your bag and a downturned pout, tears welling in your eyes. her brows furrowed when she saw how done you looked and slowly pulled you into her arms, eyes flickering over you. “oh! hey! you’re crying!” she whispered, eyes wide and face worried.

• she pulled you into her room and shut the door, bringing you over to her bed and sitting down, pulling you onto her lap. “talk to me, what happened?” she was sure to speak gently not knowing how fragile you were feeling. you sniffled loudly, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands. “s’just too much. need a night away from it all. wanted to be with you.” you tell her dejectedly and she nods in understanding, squeezing you close and resting her chin on your shoulder. “I’m yours all night, you’ll be alright.” she comfort, kissing your cheek.

• she orders you both a pizza, and god she’s just being so fucking gentle with you it makes you wanna cry everytime you look at her. she even holds you whilst you eat your pizza, her leaning her back to the wall with you laying with your back to her chest, sat up so you can eat. she doesn’t expect you to reply to her too much, but she’ll talk to you quietly in your ear about the movie you’re watching or something that happened to her earlier. her voice is so comforting it soothes you enough for your stress to start melting away a little.

• “you wanna get a little high? might help you relax a little, babe.” she all but whispers in your ear after your food had gone down, the movie on the screen illuminating the room. you turn your face to her, running your eyes over her freckles, her eyebrow scar, her pretty green eyes. it takes you a moment to respond because you’re so mesmerised by her, finally getting out a weak “mhm.” which makes her smile like she’s proud of you, pressing a kiss to your slightly parted lips.

• she prepares it all for you, letting you get the first hit like she always does. the two of you had figured out what your limit was, and honestly the two of you rarely smoked together because she was constantly telling you it was bad for you etc — but times like this did call for a little herbal therapy. you smoked your usual amount until your eyes were all pink and hazy just how she liked it and you felt fuzzy and warm on the inside. she finished off the rest easily, her tolerance way higher.

• she leans back on the bed and you lay down with her, practically trying to climb into her clothes with how close you wanted to be. “wish you could shrink me down so i could be in your pocket all day n’you could take me everywhere.” you hum into her and she chuckles low in her chest, palms flattening against your back as she rubs up and down. “i wouldn’t put you in my pocket, come on now. i’d obviously have you sit on my shoulder like a little parrot. s’way cooler.” she theorises and you pull back, nodding with doe eyes and a serious expression which makes her laugh even more at you taking her answer to heart. “you’re so cute. my cute little lady.” she cups your cheeks with a funny voice making you giggle before she presses her lips to your puckered one’s. you melt into the kiss and it deepens naturally, her hand pushing your lower back to arch you gently into her. you take it one step further, hooking your leg over her thigh and her hands roam lower, squeezing your ass as she slips her tongue into your mouth. you whimper, the weed having you so sensitive to touch that everything felt amazing and you’d barely even started making out. you felt the warmth and wetness begin to spread in your panties and if you weren’t high you might’ve been ashamed over how easy it was.

• her lips attack your neck as she encourages you with her hands to grind against her thigh, causing you to whine in satisfaction at the warm friction against your clit. “mhm?” she cooes against your skin when you do, making you all the more wetter knowing exactly what you had in store. ellie was gonna look after you, just like she always does.

• deciding enough was enough, ellie gently rolled you onto your back— pushing herself up onto her knees as her eyes ran over your heaving figure for a second. “y’wanna take these off for me?” she pat your pants lightly, leaning over to her bedside table to drink out of her water bottle before cupping the back of your neck to sit you up a little and holding it to your lips, pausing you in your undressing. “good girl.” she praised casually, eyes on your wet lips. as she did up the cap of the bottle you were quick to pull off your pants, grabbing at her tshirt to pull her back to you. as you did this, you caught the ghost of a smirk at your desperation on her face before she kissed you again, holding herself up over you.

• her larger hand crept down you, before nudging your thighs a little wider and cupping you through your panties. you gasp at this, and she chuckles at your reaction, digging her fingers in slightly. “ellie…” you whisper against her lips and she pulls away to kiss your chin before dropping her head to look at what her hand was doing. her hand trailed up and brushed over your clit making your legs jerk slightly and her fingers curled around the fabric of your panties. before you could wonder what she was doing, she gently tugged them up, causing the material to bunch and rub against your sensitive button.

• “mm—mgh, o’mygod” you whimpered, not being able to do anything but pant for a moment. she was looking back up at you now, watching your reaction and she let the smirk grace her face once more, continuing to tug. “y’like that?” she mutters, almost slightly taken aback and you nod, swallowing down a thick gulp. “so sensitive.” she commented teasingly even quieter than before, beginning to pull your underwear off completely unable to wait any longer.

• she pushed herself off you so she could ease her way down the bed, coming face to face with your cunt. you went to close your legs, but she gently eased them open— taking your hand that covered your modesty and running her thumb along the backs of your knuckles looking up at you. “s’just me.” she cooed and your heart fluttered, nodding as if hypnotised. “just you.” you repeat in a broken whisper before her eyes are on your pussy again, thumbs coming even side of the lips to spread them apart. she was high, so naturally she was entranced by how pretty it was taking a moment to admire you as she dragged a finger through your soaked slit.

• “please.” you eventually pouted and she snapped out of it, dragging a thumb up to your clit making you moan. dipping her head down she began leaving wet kisses on your thighs, pleased hums leaving her when the sensation of this would cause you to spread your legs for her even wider trying to urge her face closer to your heat. “m’gonna take care of you. gonna take care of you so well, pretty girl.” she promised against your warm skin and you mewled, hands curling into the sheets beneath you.

• ellie pushed a finger inside your wet warmth and you melted into the sheets, for once not making sound. your eyes were screwed shut and you were holding your breath without realising, trying to focus solely on the feeling of her finger being gripped by your walls. her finger didn’t move, and you were pulled out of it when she looked up at you with a gentle yet stern expression, hazy eyes focused in one yours. “breathe.” her hand stroked your thigh lovingly and you released a shaky breath. she began moving her finger again, working you open before adding another and curling them up against your gummy spot.

• your back arched off the bed and she took that as the perfect opportunity to wrap an arm around your thigh and pull you closer until her hot mouth was on your slit, licking up any juices that had leaked from you. the substances inside you heightened the euphoria of this, tears welling in your eyes as she mouthed at you hungrily.

• you didn’t know how much time had passed, it all had blurred into one as ellie made you cum over and over. during the last orgasm she drew out of you, her hand dragged up to your tummy feeling the way it spasmed and clenched and remained tense after you had hit your peak. something in you was still holding onto that stress whether you realised it or not.

• she pushed herself up rather abruptly, and your eyes fluttered open to see her staring at you, taking in all of your features analytically like she was going to draw a picture of you. your brow was still slightly tense, your jaw too. you pressed your lips together swallowing, just waiting for her next move — because ellie always knew what to do, ellie always knew how to make it better. you still looked hungry, and she realised you needed more. “you need to get fucked.” she told you so casually like it was an obvious realisation and you inhaled through your mouth, head dizzy with just how serious she was. you couldn’t help a whine slip out your mouth as your teary eyes gazed into hers, still convinced that you were too sensitive from the orgasms you’d already received. “i know, baby.” she whispered, cupping your face as if she’d read your mind. “my girl is still all tense. y’just need a little bit of dick to let go of it all don’t you?” she cooed so gently that you felt a tear roll down the side of your cheek and onto the pillow beside you. she swiped it away with her thumb, lips still glistening from you and nodded, a pout on her own face. “yeah. need me to make it all better.” she kissed you, and your breath caught in your throat when you tasted yourself. ellie had a way of making your head get so fucked, to the point where all you knew was her. she didn’t even have to try to take charge you just naturally… gave it all to her.

• you don’t remember her getting up, you just knew she was just suddenly lazily clipping her strap on onto her harness, not bothering to remove her sweats underneath. your senses were alive and practically vibrating within you when she swiped the plastic tip along through your folds, sighing like she could feel it herself. “els, want it—please.” you heard yourself say and she didn’t keep you waiting, pushing it in slow to the hilt and holding it there, kissing you through the stretch.

• “need you to relax for me. big breath in, okay? do it with me.” she whispered and you blindly followed her. the two of you, faces close, eyes locked just breathing together. your high felt elevated, and in that moment you thought the two of you might just become one person. she seemed to give in, latching her lips to yours and sucking on your bottom lip, both hands cradling your neck like she couldn’t get enough. “you gonna let me take care of that pretty pussy?” she breathed into your mouth and you were whimpering out desperate ‘yes!’s before you could even stop to think. ellie was fucking you, slow and deep and you were crying because there was truly nothing better in the world than her giving you exactly what you needed in that moment.

• lost in the moment, she pushed your knees up to your chest and your mouth fell open as she hit your spot which spurred her on to grind her strap into you with even more energy. “‘taking me so well. look at that. look how good you’re taking it. fuck me.” she cursed, gently wrapping her hand round your chin to make you look down at the soaked plastic disappearing in and out of you.

• “mm—hmhph daddy!” you sniffled and she was suddenly kissing you again so hard it nearly knocked the wind out of you. you didn’t mean to say it, but nothing ever seemed totally off the table with ellie as she just wanted to make you feel good — she knew being ‘daddy’ was what you needed, and boy did it sound pretty coming from your swollen lips. “mhm. i’m daddy. cum for me m’right here. keep takin’ it for daddy.” she groaned against your lips, doing everything in her power to get you there. she knew snaking a hand between you and letting you hump your abused clit against it would seal the deal and it did— your ears ringing as you tumbled over your last peak. somewhere in the back of your mind you thought about the students living on the other sides of ellie’s dorm walls hearing all of this but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she talked you through cumming. “good girl, so fuckin’ beautiful.”

• ellie got what she wanted too, a completely relaxed and limp girlfriend. it’s almost like she could see the previous, remaining stress float away from your body like steam and she smiled, catching her breath. she slowly pulled out, glancing at the mess you’d made of her strap and the blanket beneath you. “messy girl.” she tutted lightheartedly with a grin on her face and you reached weakly for her, using the rest of your energy to do so. “gotta clean you up, babe.” she reminded you but you pouted, so naturally she was crawling back over you and pulling you into her chest to cuddle. “inna bit.” you slurred, seeming drunk and fucked out which filled her with endless pride.

• she kissed the top of your head, resting her chin on it as you enjoyed the sleepy silence before she spoke. “‘that help you at all?” she knew the answer, hell— she was feeling smug as ever, but she needed verbal confirmation. she needed to hear you say it. “mhm. needed it bad n’i didn’t even know. but you always know.” you were muffled in her tshirt, practically asleep at this point.

• it was true. ellie always knows. ellie always makes it better.

• her lips attacked your neck as she pulled you to grind lazily on her thigh and you let out another shaky moan, causing her to hum an encouraging “mhm?” against you, turning you on even more. her hands were warm when they pushed up your shirt to squeeze at your tits, your moans only getting more lustful.

• deciding enough was enough she gently rolled you onto your back, pushing herself up on her knees.

• she orders you food, your favourite kind - and the two of you curl up and watch a movie, ellie doing her best to

#dealer!ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie tlou2 smut

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bendycxmet · 1 year ago

Text

Makeup, Makeout—Vash the Stampede

Summary: Relaxing one night with Vash leads you to wanting to do makeup on him, and leads to more than you could have hoped for.

Word Count: ~2.1k

Pairing: gn!reader x Vash the Stampede

Content: modern AU, tension, teasing, some heavy making out, makeup, overall fluff

“Yo Wolfwood, you going anywhere today?” Vash peeked into his friend’s doorway.

“Want me out for a specific reason?” inquired Wolfwood from his desk in the corner of his dimly lit room, the only light coming from his computer screen as his lithe fingers danced over the keyboard, furious clicks sounding as he shot away at the enemy team. “Playing hooky? Thought that was my job.” With a quick glance, Wolfwood glanced at his blonde roommate, fidgeting with his vermilion hoodie, shrinking into the cotton material under his gaze.

Wolfwood snickered.

“They’re coming over aren’t they?” Vash sheepishly hummed at his friend’s guess, hinting to him that his guess was right as ever. Wolfwood sighed, pausing his game and removing his headphones so that he can turn to face Vash.

“Vash, when are you two going to finally date each other? We all can only handle so much pining between you two,” he said, referencing the times he, Milly, and Meryl all shared exasperated looks at the only two in the room that didn’t realize they had feelings for each other.

“Give me a break? I don’t even know if they like me!” Vash groaned.

Wolfwood sighed. “Yeah yeah I’ll head out tonight to the girl’s apartment upstairs and give you two lovebirds your time alone.”

Living in the same apartment building as your friend group can really come in handy sometimes. You were more comfortable living with the girls, obviously, since they cleaned up after themselves and weren’t as noisy as the boys rooming a floor away.

“Thank you…I appreciate it. It’s been a long week for them. They just wanted to have a movie night with me. No offense to you guys.” Vash chuckled, not blaming you for wanting to avoid the others, seeing as they were more…energized in their interactions half the time.

“Don’t sweat it. Already knew. Milly and Meryl texted me earlier inviting me to theirs so we could eat out at the new noodle shop since they said they saw how restless you seemed. We all know that means they want some alone time to recharge with their favorite person…” Wolfwood insinuated, winking at Vash. “Don’t have too much fun tonight.”

~~~~~~~

“Can I give you a rocker look?”

“Huh?”

You and Vash were cuddled together on the couch, watching some seasonal movie on TV as the end of the year was finally upon you two. You felt extremely cozy, a large plush blanket covering your body, your arms wrapped around his middle, smushing your face into his shoulder as you peered up at him, his arm softly placed on your back. He could hardly take the way your eyes peered up at him.

It had been rainy that day, thick fluffy clouds slathered across the sky, a cold that licked at your skin all day until the warmth that radiated from Vash chased away the chills you had.

The boys’ apartment, although weirdly put together in their decorations, was welcoming. Vash’s plants lined the wall that welcomed in the sun’s rays the most, not a leaf out of place. Poorly strung lights were loosely strewn across the ceiling, illuminating the living room in a warm glow, reflecting off the group pictures hung on the walls. The sky peeking in through the blinds revealed that it was blue hour, a contrasting gloomy blue to the warm tones of Vash’s apartment. All of these components proved to be a perfect spell for you to fall asleep on his couch. You needed something to wake yourself up.

“Yanno. With makeup,” you deadpanned, as if it was the obvious answer to his bewilderment.

“But…why? We don’t have any makeup here.” Vash tilted his head to the side, looking more like a confused puppy than ever.

“I think you got the perfect face for a rocker look.”

You could never tell him that it’s because he was already gorgeous, you were just curious how much prettier he could be with makeup on.

“Besides, I have my makeup on me right now.”

“...were you planning on this?” Vash teased, squeezing your sides as a toothy grin fought to crack his face. You squealed at his movements, sadly having to wrench yourself from his warmth.

“No! Mmm… maybe… anyways! I thought it would be good practice!” With that, you got up and quickly gathered your supplies from your bag. Black eyeshadow and eyeliner, a simple look that no doubt will send you to your knees once you saw it on him.

“Hmm, ok how should I go about this…” you looked around, first glancing to his bedroom wondering if the dingy light in the bathroom would be enough. Yet, he was much taller than you, so peering up at him would hurt your neck…

“Uhh, we could just do it right here, no? I mean, it’s comfortable,” Vash offered from where he lounged on the couch.

“I guess you’re right!” With that, you plopped yourself down. Only, you don’t know what got into you. Or how shameless you were in that moment. Well, with how you were seated in Vash’s lap, knees on either side of his legs as you rummaged around in your makeup bag.

Vash froze. He was warm before, but now he felt hot. He peered at you as you grabbed a makeup palette, opening it and looking at your options, oblivious to the effect you had on him. You were rambling about how you came across this look, seeing a tutorial online earlier in the day and feeling inspired to try it on him as the guy in the video had similar features to the man between your thighs.

“Ok, ready. Close your eyes for me,” you said, opting to use your finger for the black eyeshadow. Doesn’t need to be perfect.

Vash rushed to close his eyes before you made eye contact, hoping you couldn’t see how wide his eyes became from your previous movements.

You hummed as you gently swiped the pigment onto his pale complexion, perfectly content and focused with the task at hand. Vash fought to keep his breathing under control so as to not reveal how fast paced his heart was, the action proving difficult as he felt your warm breath swoop over his cheeks, the scent that is so uniquely you filling his nostrils, indicating just how close you truly were.

Vash felt you lean back, thanking the heavens he was able to get a second to clear his mind of you. This was short lived as he felt you lean back in.

“Alright, now I need you to open your eyes for me. I gotta do the eyeliner on your bottom lid.” Vash breathed, slowly opening his blue eyes to stare down at a spot on your shoulder, avoiding eye contact.

“Heyy~ I need you to look up now.”

He looked up at the low hanging lights, choosing to focus on one bulb. You went to work again, slowly adding the eyeliner to his lower lids. You were nearly done with the second eye when a shuddering breath reached your ears. The haze in your mind from focusing on applying makeup cleared, a veil seemingly lifted from your senses. When had you gotten so close?!

Shit. Vash nearly made it through your routine, just up until you leaned impossibly closer to him. The moment the warmth radiating off your face connected with his, your chest flattening against his, he couldn’t help the staggering breath that left him. The position you two were in was becoming too intimate.

You took a deep breath before taking in the sight before you. Damn, you did a good job. The onyx pigmentation contrasted perfectly with everything that is Vash. His fair skin. His wonderfully blue eyes that were always regarding you with such kindness and reverence. He was a sight to behold. He was hot.

Your senses were completely engulfed by Vash, your surroundings blurring. His light floral scent, his warmth that came from where you two were touching, his wet, slightly parted lips…his heaving chest… wait. What the hell is going on?

It was finally then that you realized what you had been up to for the past five minutes. You were seated, too comfortably, in his lap. Your proximity to him could be labeled as promiscuous with how your thighs were hugging his.

“O-Ok, I think I’m done. You’re making me jealous! How dare you have better eyelashes than me. Anyway, you look really cool! Let’s go look in the mirror!” you rambled, reeling from your revelation.

Get out. Abort. Move away, goddammit! You’re cutting it close! Your mind all but screamed at you.

You went to push away from him, but you found yourself not budging an inch. Confused, you looked down, seeing Vash’s lean arm grasping your back, keeping you close to him.

~~~~~~~

“You’re a coward.”

“Excuse you?!” screamed Vash, his words slurred as Wolfwood kept him upright on their walk home from the club.

“All that liquid courage and you didn’t make a single damn move on them?? No matter how drunk everyone in that club was, people could tell how in love you two were!” Wolfwood pressed.

The group had gone out on a chilly Saturday night, searching for a fun time, choosing to head into a local club, where they all got positively hammered. Everyone had several rounds of tequila, you and Vash taking the lead and stumbling on the dancefloor. The entire night, the remaining crew rolled their eyes at your blatant affection for one another. Your hands were around Vash’s neck, his hands protectively encircling your back as you two danced song after song, bodies closely swaying to the beat, in your own worlds until Vash had to run to the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach.

“We were just dancing, like everyone else!” Vash yelled.

“If only you saw it from our point of view…prove me wrong. Next time.”

“Whaa…?”

Wolfwood breathed a sigh of relief as they entered their apartment building.

“Next time you’re that close to them, make a move. Normal friends don’t usually get that close to each other. Time and time again.”

Although Vash was drunk out of his mind that night, he managed to catch every single one of Wolfwood’s critiques. Wolfwood’s recommendation managed to lodge itself in the recesses of his mind.

~~~~~~~

His pupils were dilated, probably matching the way yours looked at that moment. You shuddered as his hand slowly moved up to caress the back of your head. You didn’t dare move away this time.

Make a move. Wolfwood’s words echoed once again in his head.

Yeah, maybe I will. With that final thought, he closed the tiny distance you had created.

Warm. That’s all you felt in that moment. You had imagined countless times what it would feel like to finally kiss him, but none of your childish fantasies lived up to this moment. His plump lips were soft as they moved against your own, pulling gasps and full-body shivers from you. He angled both your heads, deepening the kiss. He groaned at your reciprocation, the arm around your waist squeezing you tighter against him, unknowingly brushing you against his hips. Your arms went to hug his shoulders at the same time his hand came up to carefully cradle your jaw, his thumb swiping across your cheekbones. You were panting into his mouth at this point, all oxygen leaving your body at the deep kisses he was giving you, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip as a heads up before delving in to explore and get to know a new part of you.

He’s gonna be the death of you.

He hoped you could understand him. In the kisses he gave you, he hoped you could hear his confessions of love and admiration he has harbored for you, his apologies for taking so long to give them to you. One day, he would say them out loud. Not today, though. What you both needed at this moment was each other’s physical presence finally molding and mixing together.

~~~~~~~

3am. That’s gotta be enough time for those lovebirds. Wolfwood sleepily pondered, key turning in the lock to his shared apartment.

"Let us know how they are! They haven’t responded to our texts for awhile now. That’s gotta mean something!" The girls’ voice rang in the back of his head. Crossing the threshold, Wolfwood’s eyes immediately fell on the pair on the couch.

He snickered. You were in a peculiar position, arms and legs wrapped around Vash’s hips and waist, your sleeping face tucked into his neck, soft, even breaths occasionally blowing against the blonde’s skin. It was as if your unconscious body was unwilling to let go of Vash now that you finally had him. Your head failed to cover the circular bruises littered on Vash’s neck, your own neck mirroring his.

Vash shyly met Wolfwood’s eyes. Although the room was dimly lit, Wolfwood could see Vash’s face had been beet red.

“You two really are idiots.”

A/N: thx for reading! everything is crossposted on my ao3

masterlist

divider by saradika

#vash x reader #trigun x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede #vash fluff #vash x reader fluff #vash the stampede x reader fluff #bendycxmet writes

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lovekz · 1 year ago

Text

it’s seasonal

syn -> the seasons are changing, and so are you

warnings : depression, ran overthinks a lot

note : for all the fine people that have seasonal depression

you were gone.

disappeared off the face of the earth.

since early wednesday morning.

when you were leaving your boyfriend's after watching a few movies.

and now ran is worried.

it isn’t like you to just fall off the face of the earth without mentioning anything to rindou at least.

the two of you were pretty close, and ran was glad his two favorite people get along.

so when rindou says he hasn’t heard from you, the bottom of ran’s feet begin to sweat.

he called multiple times and only reached your voicemail.

did you break up with him? he had no idea.

but he knew he missed you.

so he gets in his car, and drives over to your house.

he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he wasn’t mad at you for doing this at all

just worried.

he pulls into a park in front your house and walks to the door, knocking on it.

after a bit of shuffling and moving around, you open the door.

you were in one of his hoodies and a pair of pajama bottoms.

you looked to be fresh out the shower.

“what are you doing here ran? is something wrong?” you question firstly, looking at him a bit confused.

ran analyzes your face a bit more before deciding to respond.

you look tired and physically upset with something.

“I missed you. a lot.” ran breathes out, feeling his heart slow a little more at the sight of you relaxing.

you don’t respond to that, however. just staring at ran like he’s grown two heads.

“where have you been? why haven’t you responded to my texts?” ran asks softly, glancing behind you.

the house was definitely a mess, clothes and tissues lingering here and there.

were you sick?

“home. here. I just.. needed some space.” you say hesitantly, glancing away from him.

and oh- he sees it.

the way you were fidgeting, looking like you haven’t slept, and the dryness of your face.

you weren’t fresh out the shower.

you had been crying previously to ran knocking at the front door.

ran’s heart aches at the thought of it, unable to hide the pain and guilt from his facial expression.

you notice it, and flash him a fake smile. one ran reads almost immediately.

“I’m okay, I promise. you did nothing wrong.” you say with a little laugh, giving a thumbs up for clarity.

ran shakes his head and pulls you into his arms, squeezing you just a bit in his arms.

"should've been here. should've noticed." he whispered into your hair, rubbing your back comfortingly.

and he feels you shaking and sobbing in his arms almost immediately, clutching onto his hoodie.

the two of you stand in your doorway until you stop crying even a bit. and even then, ran doesn't want to move.

but he knows the chilly air on your legs would get you sick, so he brings you into the house.

it doesn't matter to him that the house is a complete mess, because his girlfriend isn't at her usual 10.

though ran can tell you tried to keep it even the slightest bit of neat.

your eyes are red when ran sits you onto the couch, and you shrink into yourself.

ran doesn't know the feeling you had, but he knows he's familiar with the sight of it.

it's happen to everyone around him. his younger brother, his closest friends, and even izana.

and maybe it skipped past him. maybe he'd passed it on to someone else without knowing.

but he's never felt it for himself.

so now he sits beside you, beating himself up because he's got no fucking clue how to make you feel better for even five minutes.

but then he remembers

he stands up with a start, cupping your cheeks with a smile like he's just solved world hunger.

"i've got this really amazing idea. wanna try it?" he questions, wanting your consent for it.

you look at him a bit confused, before nodding at him slightly.

and then he's running to his car with you in his arms.

you fall asleep on the way to his house, and wake up in his comfortable bed.

the sheets are warm and fluffy, and smell like his laundry detergent and his natural scent.

it's only after you let out your fifth yawn is when you realize you're in here alone.

the lights are off and his orange lava lamp is on in the corner to give a bit of a hue in the room.

you climb out of bed and venture out of the room to find ran.

he's in the kitchen beside rindou, both of them stirring a huge pot with giddy grins.

the sight warms your heart almost immediately.

as if he senses you, ran whips around and gives you a huge smile.

"good morning gorgeous." ran calls, waving his hand for you to come over to him.

you listen, adjusting your self you walk over to the brothers.

ran gives you a kiss to your cheek and rindou bumps your hip with his own as a greeting.

you assume he doesn't hug you because of the amount of flour he had all over him.

ran shares the same reasoning, also being the one stirring the pot while rindou adds the dough.

"what are you guys making?" you question, trying to see from your tippy toes.

rindou nudges your head away with his elbow and ran laughs at the action, before looking at you.

"don't worry, babe. it's a surprise. how about you go ahead and freshen up? you'll know when it's ready." ran suggests.

you nod, going back upstairs and into ran's personal bathroom.

there was already a fresh change of clothes sitting on the counter and a few of your skin and body care items.

you know you used up the last of it when you were here, so he probably ran to the store while you were asleep.

turning to the bathtub, you realize it was full with bubbles and warm-hot water.

a plate of strawberries sliced into hearts sat on a plate nearby with a letter reading 'enjoy yourself, love you'

your heart swoons with the thought of how thoughtful your boyfriend could be to you.

when you finished, you got dressed in the hoodie ran had left and the pair of sweats that were definitely rindou's.

but you didn't mind, you were comfy anyway.

you walk downstairs only to find rindou and ran placing the food into a bowl.

it seemed to be soup, which was good because of the decreasing temperature outfit.

"what kind of soup is it?" you questioned, walking up to the brother's with a slightly intrigued look.

ran ushers you to the couch, following behind with your bowls.

rindou was in front of the two of you with his own bowl, trying to claim his seat before ran did.

"it's chicken soup. comfort soup. i don't know." rindou answers for you, shrugging and sitting in the seat before ran could try.

you don't miss the curse that leaves ran's mouth, before turning on the lights just a little bit.

he had gone as far as to decorate the living room too.

it had little fairy lights hanging around, along with another one of his lava lamps.

comfortable blankets hung from the back of the couch, along with a little heater in the corner that warmed the room a bit.

though because of it's size, it barely did a good job.

the tv was already on netflix, and the remote was placed next to you once you sat.

"this is so sweet of you. thank you." you say to the brothers, flashing them a quick smile.

rindou makes a 'pssh' sound before waving you off and tucking a nonexistent hair behind his ear.

ran laughs, before pulling you closer to him. "of course. eat your soup before it gets cold." ran suggests.

you nod, and began to eat it.

it had potatoes, chicken, carrots, a bit of sweet potato (rindou isn't a fan, so there's only really little chunks), and dumplings.

"when did you learn how to make this?" you ask curiously, putting on your favorite movie.

the two brothers look at each other, silently counting.

"about.. 4 years ago. rindou's first therapy session." ran explained, making rindou snicker.

"yeah. thank goodness he had enough practice. it was so bad the first time." rindou teased, looking at his brother.

ran's face flushed a bit, as he attempted to shrug off rindou's teasing.

"in my defense, it was my first time cooking." ran scoffed, looking at you with a smile.

rindou shakes his head almost immediately, putting his soup onto the coffee table in front of him.

"nuh uh. he was cooking for a year before that. and still couldn't cook!" rindou exclaims, laughing.

ran placed his soup down as well, before whipping his head around to look at his younger brother.

rindou gives him a smug little 'what' look, ready for whatever ran was about to throw at him.

the two begin to bicker, making you giggle and pay more attention to them (and your soup) instead of the tv.

as they argue playfully, you realize how at home you feel with the two being around you.

and it makes you happier knowing that these two you do anything for you, as a girlfriend and a sister.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #ran haitani #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers ran #tokyo revengers rindou #ran x reader #tokyo rev x reader #long hair ran #fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #tr fluff

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irondiotallica · 7 months ago

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Movie Night

I have a little blurb for you. Hope you enjoy it. I really enjoyed figuring it out as I listened to some Djo (great music, Joe Keery is really just too talented for this world). Anyway, enjoy!!! -Silas

[Steddie]

Steve didn’t know how he had gotten himself into this situation. The night had started normally. Eddie and Robin were staying over to watch some movies and hang out.

“Dingus, I think Eddie is gonna burn your kitchen down.”

Steve turned to Robin with an unamused stare.

“Rob, I’m sure he can figure out how to use the microwave to make some popcorn. He’s not helpless.”

“Steve-o! How do I work this thing?”

“You were saying, Steve,” Robin questioned with a raised brow and a smirk pulling at her lips.

Steve fixed her with a glare before getting up and moving into the kitchen. He leaned in the doorway and watched with a bit of amusement building as he watched Eddie press random buttons on the microwave trying to figure out how it works.

“Need help?”

Steve let out a chuckle as Eddie jumped and whipped around with wide eyes. Eddie narrowed his eyes at the younger boy before nodding his head with a sigh.

“Yeah, I need help,” Eddie mumbled with a slight pout.

Steve glided over to the microwave and made sure everything was properly in place. Eddie had managed that, but the buttons were what had stumped him. Steve began to hit the correct series of buttons and unconsciously trapping Eddie against his body and the counter. Steve grinned as the microwave began to whir in a mechanical countenance before he finally became aware of the position he was in.

He glanced down at Eddie and took in the blush that coated Eddie’s face with a color almost comparable to the cherry red sweater Steve was currently wearing. Steve tilted his head to the side before a small grin made its way to his face. He let his wander to Eddie’s waist and grip it firmly. He felt his grin widen as Eddie’s hands rested in his hair and on his neck.

“Steve?”

“Eddie.”

“Want a kiss, gorgeous?”

Eddie grinned up at Steve with a sweet glint in his eyes.

“Do you even gotta ask, big boy?”

They both leaned in and felt their world shrink to just the two of them. Steve pushed into the kiss, finding the taste of stale cigarettes and runts (the candy) intoxicating. Eddie’s lips were plush and just slotted perfectly against his own. Steve nipped at Eddie’s bottom lip and slid his tongue in to clash against Eddie’s. Steve could kiss Eddie forever.

“Split.”

The two pulled apart with one more peck as they focused in on Robin standing there with an eyebrow raised and seasoning held in her fingers.

“I would actually like some popcorn to go with my movie, thank you very much.”

Steve grabbed the bowl from the microwave and followed Robin as she moved back to the living room. He turned back and grabbed Eddie’s hand, planting a kiss against the cold metal of one of the rings.

“Come on, Eds. We’ll finish this later.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up.

“You inviting me to your room, Stevie?”

Steve didn’t answer. Instead, he moved Eddie forward and planted a smack on his backside along with a kiss on the cheek. Steve sat down and smirked at the shock on Eddie’s nuclear-red face. Eddie moved to the couch after a minute or two sitting on the other side of Steve that Robin hadn’t claimed. He leaned over and nipped at Steve’s ear.

“You’re a dick, Harrington.”

“Yeah, but you like it.”

Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes before settling back into Steve’s side. Steve focused on the movie and held his two favorite people close with the promise of fun later.

He couldn’t think of anything better than this moment.

#blurb #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie x steve #fluff #im bored #robin buckley

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miniimapp · 7 months ago

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Aaron Z - Actually, Cassidy, I Am Busy

Gen ;; Fluff - Headcanons

Warnings ;; Noooo ??

Proofread + Edited ;; only when adding the seasoning (bold,, italics,, purple,, etc.)

Auth. Note ;; I love highschool!Aaron Z too much,, he's so precious TT^TT

This turned out much longer than anticipated (💀), so I do hope you enjoy !!

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

Ah,, the school production

How you've missed the last minute rehearsals, the after show parties, mouthing conversations across the stage and that one girl who got the lead and won't shut the hell up about it

What's not to love ??

Okay,, maybe you're being unnecessarily pessimistic

Because you'll still come back

Every

Single

Time

Honestly,, it's a problem at this point

Like masochism but without the physical pain

Though it is sometimes physical

Like,,

Whoever the fuck is responsible for some of these dance moves needs to chopped into little pieces and fed to some hungry piranhas

You've rolled your ankle and nearly shattered it into smithereens about a hundred times

Rehearsals have just started and you're on your first fucking dance number

Clumsy is looking like a bit of an understatement at this point

You're not normally like this, you swear !!

You're just not much of a dancer

At least not these dance moves anyway

Who decided a high kick followed by step-turn followed by another high kick and then a roll and then a fucking leap into yet another bloody high kick was a good and necessary part of the routine

You'd do just fine with a few arm waves.. maybe a YMCA if we're feeling particularly adventurous

You have a few choice words for them

Or maybe a whole ass speech

We'll see how articulate you are when you find them

As you huff and puff through your anger you don't notice the sound of footsteps behind you

"What are you doing?"

An ungodly shriek flies from your lips as you jump nearly three fucking feet in the air

You curl into a nearby wall, grasping at your chest as if that would slow your racing heart

"What the hell, man?"

You groan at the cackling boy behind you

Aaron Z

Fucking prick

Since being forced together as what essentially boiled down to patient and nurse,, the two of you had grown close

Bit hard not to when you can't catch a single break from one another

"Couldn't resist, sorry."

You held up your fist, shaking it mockingly

"One of these days I'll get a bell on you and then we'll see what's funnier."

"I could be wearing a foghorn that goes off whenever I come within 6 feet of you and you still wouldn't notice. You'd be too stuck inside that head of yours."

You roll your eyes but concede with a smile

"Whatever, man."

"Anyway, wanna let me in on what has you so.. "

"Excited? Thrilled? Jumping for joy? Sure thing, Z, let me fill you in on what I so dearly love about these shows!"

Z furrows his brow and looks almost.. scared ??

Dramatic fucker

"I've truly missed practically breaking my ankle every other second oh so much, haven't you?"

"..I just got off crutches.."

...

Fuck

"Right, that was ill-timed, huh.. but you get my point!"

Z kinda just stares at your blankly as you fight the urge to sigh

"..Okay, so maybe you don't get my point.."

"You know, I don't know if I even know my point.. oh well, just know that my feet hurt and I'm ready to throw hands!"

Z blinked at you slowly before nodding

"Sure, you do that.."

You,, lost in your righteous fury,, don't register the sarcasm and nod firmly

"I absolutely will do that, just you watch me. I swear, when I get my hands on that-"

"Z! We need some help with the choreo over here, could you spare us a second?"

Your eyes narrow at the interruption before widening in slow realisation

"Be right over!" Z yells back before turning to you. "See ya."

You glare at his shrinking figure..

So he's the bitch that's decided to cast ruin upon your ankles..

Very well,, two can play that game !!

You'll give him just as good as you get

Over the following weeks you pulled some..uh,, harmless (??) pranks on Z

All necessary reparations for the damages to your body,, mind and soul,, of course !!

Really,, you didn't ever do anything bad to him.. just caused some mild inconvenience

Like,, when he changed shoes for dancing you'd spray the insides of his trainers with water

Or putting his playlist on shuffle when he's across the room

Or "accidentally" breaking his bluetooth connection by turning off his speaker and then turning it back on again.. multiple times throughout rehearsals

You would never do anything actually harmful !!

All tricks are mildly inconvenient and annoying at worst and funny at best !!

You swear !!

Please no arrest..

A month or so before the show you notice Z getting actually frustrated at one of your little.. pranks

So you decide to quit them,, they were pretty petty after all

Unfortunately,, in the process of putting a stop to your trickster ways Z notices you in your trickster ways

Needless to say,, he's not all that.. impressed

(It's not your fault the guy's been attempting to break your bones every rehearsal,, whether intentionally or not..)

So an apology it is..

SIKE

As if !!

Just because he's perpetually in crutches doesn't mean you want be

Haha loser..

...

Okay,, okay

So maybe you do apologise after all

That last thought made you feel kinda bad.. it's not Z's fault his limbs are too long and don't listen to him

(It's prolly because they're so far away from his brain..)

Although,, and you hate to admit it,, he somehow overcomes the limits of his lankiness and becomes quite.. graceful when he dances

It's pretty cool to watch..

He looks very at home,, not just in the space but also in his body

It's enchanting to watch

(IN A COMPLETELY PLATONIC WAY AHAHAHAHA)

Haha..

.. anyway

Z, to your surprise, takes the situation really well

Like,, bursts out laughing kinda well

Which, let's be clear, you were so relieved by, you'd been expecting him to be pretty upset about it

But no,, Z's spent enough time around his friends and their pranks to be able to find the humour in your "revenge"

If anything you accidentally incite a prank wars type situation

Which really solidifies your crush ahem,, sorry friendship

You know what they say,, friends that prank together stay together

(Though I guess it's less pranking together and more each other.. oh well)

The war spans the rest of the rehearsal period,, each one a (probably sloppy) attempt to one-up the last

It's fun

And better yet it's mostly harmless

Mostly...

There was that one time a bucket barely missed your head when Z was attempting to douse you in glitter

At least you would've had a concussion in style ??

Anyway,, the prank war was pretty much harmless

No fatal wounds were received which has to count as a win,, right ??

You both made it to opening night unharmed !!

And someone seemed to pick up on your disgruntled attitude during dance rehearsals because suddenly there were a lot more breaks and in depth dance breakdowns

And wouldn't you know it,, the ensemble began picking everything up 12x faster

A greater miracle you've never seen

And if by opening night the prank wars are somehow still going..

Well,, the glint in Z's eyes whenever they catch yours tells you more than enough

You're in for a treat

#how do these always get so long..#oh well #more for you guys ig #4town #4town headcanons #4town aaron z #4town aaron z x reader #turning red #4*town #aaron z #4town x reader

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merrilinie · 1 year ago

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CW: violence and immortal mcd (so not really), child death

Merlin who is able to tell the weather and state of nature and season not because of magic, but because of how he grew up.

The small village was in a rather unfortunate place, at least to most. It was stuck between a forest and meadow with a large river bed that often flooded and took out numerous of their crops. It helped greatly with a permanent water source but every good thing had a fault.

So, Merlin learnt quickly when to tell it was going to rain by the humidity and clouds, so he could better help his neighbours with any preparations. He learnt what soil was best for planting what plants, what of those would be worthy he effort of growing, what could carry bugs and other insects that could house disease or venom. He learnt what habitats snakes and spiders liked, what caves could be good to hide in if the rain came in too quick or bandits came too close to the village.

That was what he learnt most, without ever really wanting to. He learnt when to tell if the air changed with the eagerness of bandits ready for a fight. He learnt how to spot traps after getting caught in two as just a child, the long jagged scar along his leg a permanent reminder of the danger he had to watch for.

Merlin learnt through trail and error, tasting the poisonous berries to know they were as such. He knew how to treat venom bites, to stay still as a rock when a snake caught onto his flesh, what to eat and drink when he had something wrong, how to get out of cruel traps made to rip a man apart by simply not passing out and keeping a clear head.

The knights and Arthur do not know this. They don’t know of his magic, if they did they would assume like the Druid’s did that he simply used that, which he did at times. They just assumed he had a knack for these kinds of things.

Then they go to his home for a rest stop as they target a group of bandits. This is where a elder hears the Knights making fun of Merlin and he marches right up to them and he tells them off in a way that both mortifies and compliments Merlin.

“Listen here, you ignorant fools! This young man had done more for this village than any of you have done for the Kingdom! It’s Merlin who learnt how to make the soil grow our crops properly, he who taught the children what food is okay to scavenge for! It’s this boy who warns us when the floods are most likely and helps us prepare, even though his home is on the other side of the village! Do you know how many times I’ve had to watch this boy nearly die because he took it upon himself to make sure the bandit traps were set off before a child got caught? He once spent two full nights in a cave with a broke leg after my daughter got lost, just to find her and bring her home even though-… even though she’d already passed.”

Merlin goes to his friend and hold so to his hand, trying to comfort him as memories flood his frail mind.

The man finishes his ramble with a pat to Merlin’s cheek, “You do not need strength and armour to be a good man. The selfishness of man has never once touched you, my boy. I will not allow such blasphemy to your name, not by a king or a pauper.”

Merlin only gives a single look at the Knights and shrinks under the pity and shock, deciding instead to take his friend back to his home so they can visit his daughters grave. He had died that first night when he looked for her, his first death and how he discovered his immortality.

He tried not to remember it, the pain and agony of starving and bleeding and a deep burning in his leg that made his body squirm with phantom pain.

The next day the Knights are quiet, Arthur watching him without ever looking away. They only ask him if what was said was true when they set camp up three nights later. So, he lifts up his pant leg to show his mangled flesh and gives them a soft smile that doesn’t reach his eyes,

“Don’t worry, I know how to heal things properly now if it happens to any of you.”

A tear slides down Gwaines face.

#bbc merlin #merlin emrys #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin angst #merlin x arthur #merlin angst #merthur #knights of camelot

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rockymountainqueen2 · 8 months ago

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Back to the Swamp rundown!

So...

Disney Channel's YouTube account just released a new TOH chibi tiny tale.

And it's a crossover with Amphibia!

Here's my summarization of the events.

It begins with Luz meddling with the good 'ol portal door.

I'm not sure what she's expecting to accomplish, but Eda and King evidently found it interesting enough to watch. Eda even brought popcorn!

But whatever Luz did, it worked!

I have no idea when this is supposed to be occurring within the series timeline by the way. Luz is wearing season one outfit, has access to the portal door, which is also not destroyed.

So, season one, right?

But Eda has her post "Let the pain be shared" silver eye... And her season two dress for that matter!

Ah well, onwards to adventure! Eda is all for it!

King is a bit more... concerned, but comes along too.

Doesn't stop him from being mystified about the wildlife, though.

I guess Luz was trying to get back to The Human Realm?

Because she seems utterly shocked by the sudden realization that man-sized insects means that she can't possibly be on earth, lol.

But luckily for the denizens of the owl house, they've landed in Amphibia! By Wartwood! Right in front of the Plantar family home!

While Anne's friends Marcy and Sasha were visiting no less! What luck!

Anne and Luz formally reunite and introduce their respective families/friends to one another. It's very cute.

Sasha and Eda evidently decided that they just had to have an arm wrestling competition.

Sasha uses the powers gifted to her by the Calamity Box in order to win, lol.

But Eda gets the last laugh!

Then Marcy and King play a board game together.

Annnnnd she also uses her Calamity Box powers to win.

Girls, you do realize that's considered cheating, right?

Hooty also makes an appearance.

I guess he was wondering where everybody went?

Polly proceeds to use him as a jump-rope, lol.

I'm surprised that Hooty isn't more into this, but maybe he was genuinely worried about the people who live inside of him and didn't appreciate being used a kid's plaything after braving the unknown in his best effort to find them. Lol.

Meanwhile, Luz is showing off her sick glyph skills!

...Which I just realized, probably shouldn't work in Amphibia.

Ah well, we wouldn't have gotten this nice moment where she and Anne show off their magical powers to each other otherwise!

After all is said and done, our heroes settle down to have a meal.

I'm reasonably certain that they're eating bugs. Yum, protein.

Hop Pop and Eda are doubtlessly exchanging tips on parenting orphans and their other-dimensional friends, lol.

Throughout this whole adventure, the portal door has been... shrinking?

Because... the writers needed a reason for Luz and Co to have go back to The Demon Realm suddenly?

XD That's my best guess, as I don't recall there ever having been a time limit when it came to using the original portal door. It was kinda OP like that.

Anywho, Luz and Co need to leave immediately. Anne and Luz are quite sad to see one another go.

King really wants to make sure to say goodbye to everybody properly!

To the point he was a little too preoccupied to notice the portal door closing on him.

Also: Hop Pop faints because he thinks he just saw a little kid get decapitated, lol.

Meanwhile, back in the owl house, Luz is sad that she had to say goodbye to Anne. Eda comforts her, it's a sweet sight.

What isn't such a sweet sight is what King looks like minus his skull.

Although King himself is rather nonplussed about the whole thing.

Like mother, like son. Lol.

Luz is completely and totally horrified by the sight of King...

And that's the note that we end on!

Overall, cute little short.

And as a bonus...

XD This is officially canon now.

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jolalibrary · 1 year ago

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viii. darkest times, that you now know

javier peña x dea f!reader | chapter eight of nowhere to run

chapter warnings: season three narcos spoilers. no use of y/n. smut themes. feelings. someone realises they love the other. angst. anxiety. ptsd. Wordcount: 5.5k.

AN: i try not to use flashbacks often, (other than little speech injections) but i had to include this one. forgive me. thank you, as always to the wonderfully patient, @yeyinde who loves luna as much as me and tells me constantly i'm doing good with this. and also to the amazing @guyfieriii who cheerleads more than i deserve

He suspected it would come in waves.

One moment you’d be smirking, sending flirtatious jabs at him. The next, you’d be silent, unease stitched into your expression, a haunted look in your eyes. He was right, and it hurt, bruised and stung.

He wonders if he asked too much. If he pushed too hard. If the lid on the box you’d wanted to keep closed is now too heavy to shift back into place.

Javi suspects it more when he hears you talking in whispers at your desk, phone close to your ear, head in your hand. Nodding, sniffling, trying to breathe as normally as possible.

“I just... wish you were here. I... miss you.”

You said it to the person with such ease—all etched into a breath, it makes his fingers tease the edges of the file as he waits for you to be done. It worms into him, those three words. It unlocks the chain around his jealousy as it tries to break out and consume him.

“Yeah, yeah. Speak soon, Van Ness.”

It shrinks, sliding back into its usual place—stuffed down under the belief that it’s just him. That you keep waking up next to him, that you let him part your thighs, and it’s his name you moan when you come.

It comes in waves.

One moment, you find yourself able to fill your lungs with ease. The next, they’re tight. Unable to take even half a gasp, never mind half a breath.

It eases in the days that follow. Through conversations with Van Ness, normalcy at work and oddly, hearing someone calmly sleep beside you. A noise, you had strongly suspected, would drive you insane.

With Javi, the soft lull of him as his chest rises and falls makes you feel calmer. Your ear being able to hear his heart, how it patters and beats, is a soothing reminder you’re present—not lost to past memories.

The ones which threaten to wrap their tendrils around your ankles and pull you back under. Dunking you in the horrors that have been burned into the back of your mind.

Prior to confessing it to him, you had felt you’d done well to stuff it down for as long as you had. Now, the lid was thrown aside, it wasn’t hard to feel the past’s fingertips sliding along your back, pushing into muscle and bone. From the murder to the loss, it all swirled around, crawling across the walls of whichever place the two of you decided to stay at—etching itself into pleasant moments and his soft, kind eyes.

Javi had held you for so long, you had worried about what would happen when he let go. Whether you’d crumble to ash, dirty his floor with your dust.

You hadn’t.

But you had been almost boneless, his arm supporting you, leading you to his bed. Your lips ghosted over his, desperate to cleanse the night of all that had been spoken, but he’d held you to his chest instead.

Tomorrow, cariño. Let me hold you for now.

Back then, you’d thought it was for him. Surrendering your need to forget for him. It wasn’t until you woke, feeling empty but not as broken as you expected, did you realise it was all for you. His fingers spread across his bedsheets, finding your hand lying between the two of you, taking it in his while watching you with sleep still clinging in his eyes.

I’m here.

He says it so easily, so normally, yet it doesn’t convince the doubt—the ones which have snuck in through the cracks caused by the earthquake of your confession.

Before that night, there had been nights when the two of you hadn’t slept together. Few and far between, but they existed. They were usually because you’d spent too many minutes laughing and joking, your legs over his knees, a cigarette in his hand with the smoke collecting along the ceiling. Then he’d yawn, and you would follow as he mumbled about getting some sleep, and you didn’t argue. On those nights, whatever you didn’t do in the night, the two of you made up for in the morning. His scent mixed with yours—all Javi-musk and your worn-out perfume; his lips running across your neck to your jaw, finding your lips as you tasted your name on his tongue.

Not cariño. Your real name.

The one which sounds so good embedded in his grunt. His thumb decidedly leaving bruised kisses, almost close by to another—a litter of finger paintings along your hip.

Javi’s hand ghosted over them now. His forehead free of creases, his breaths low and heavy. It made you want to sleep too, to curl up into him closer—let him fight away the things which hurt and wound.

It’s three days post confession until your wrists are pinned above your head, and he’s telling you how good you feel—how you were made for him. Your moans confirm how right he is, kissing him whenever he provides the chance, nails scraping down his spine when you’ve done what he asked—when you gave him two before he tried to get a third.

You’d been waiting for the shift—the change.

It doesn’t arrive then but arrives days after that. All gentle and kind, nothing like what you’d been secretly bracing for. A part of you, just enough, has settled, and found a way to live with itself. Enough to appreciate him. How alike he is to whiskey. That he’s all honey and sweet, yet scorching—and that under it all, there are notes of many other things too. Ones which bubble until they’re over boiling, flowing over the floor and climbing the walls, ready to coat and soak you in it—

He’s yours.

You’re not sure if it’s something he fully knows or if it’s something you want to accept. Preferring to fight him, push him back, keep him just at a hands length over an arm. Because you do like him close, have grown used to him—

Secretly, you’re very much his too.

A shift has happened. A turn of the tides. It’s there, swirling around the two of you—both attempting to be oblivious to it all, but finding instead that it’s really rather obvious.

When the two of you began, he was merciless in his pursuit of your pleasure—of hearing the noises you could make. Now, he’s torturous with it.

Dragging it out.

He enjoys how it knots and curdles in your lower abdomen as his knees dig into the back of your thighs, rocking into you, pulling back halfway before stuffing you full again. Repeating it, slow, long drags which make you quiver and moan—some pressed into his hot skin, others kissing the air and his ears.

He’d fuck you slow if it meant hearing his name roll from your swollen lips in multitude. You allow him to fuck you slow if it means he’s here with you longer.

Not that he leaves, not that you ask him to or you find he wants to go.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

Opening up, you take all of him in. How the light from your lamp casts shadows that only enhance him—that illuminate the path of his jaw and makes his eyes more intoxicating than usual. Your hand gripping his shoulder, finding his lips brush over your wrist. Innocent and yet very much deliberate.

“There she is, mi cariño.”

He’s an addiction. Torture. Something that you can’t breathe with or without. Your fingers brush over the hand propping his weight up as he snaps his hips to yours. Fingers fluttering over his, the other curling into his hair.

He sees all of you, knows all the things that make up the fractured parts, and still remains. Ironically, you’d closed yourself off to finding someone else to care for, only for it to pull him into your web.

He and his rhythmic heartbeat soothes your soul; Javi and his eyes make your breath slow, and pull a smile so easy from your lips it’s like he commands it from you. Javi and his lips that make you never want to kiss another soul again. Who reminds you of what impatience feels like, making you wish the hours away so the two of you could begin stealing the minutes at night.

Javi makes you breathless—and not just with how he fucks you. Sliding off of him now, finding a place next to him, lying in the crook of his arm as you think. Chest rising and falling, mirrored by his own.

His fingers brush over your cheek, eyes tracing each curve of your cheekbone, the way your nose arches and lips bow. You’re on your side, doing the same, fingers fluttering over his chin—taking in how beautiful and dark his brown eyes are. How the hair around his mouth slopes perfectly around it.

“Cariño…”

Your lips are curling, ready to answer him. Tease him. Call him bonita, mi amor. But the phone interrupts you—yours. It blares from the side you're on, moving before he can wrap his hands around you to stop you.

To beg you to leave the work behind and just be.

You don’t leave to take it. Picking up his t-shirt from the floor, pulling it over yourself as you perch next to him, his fingers pulling down on the neck, mouth finding your shoulders as you lift the phone.

He’s on you, as much as he can, with a phone suddenly in your hand.

“Hel—“

It’s me.

You’re sure he hears it—Fiestl’s voice. Especially from the way he freezes.

“Oh, hey, Chris? Did I—did you need something?”

You feel him stiffen more so, his mouth slowly dragging down your clothed shoulder, lying back on the bed as you move the fabric to cover your hips, shifting in place on the bed.

It’s easier to turn from him, not willing to meet his eyes—see something in them you cannot truly unpack or process.

No. It’s… a friendly call.

You sigh. It falls from your lips to the air. “Now isn’t… Now isn’t a good time.”

You with them? The person you’re seeing…

He must be listening because you don’t hear him take a breath in your pause.

Something twists inside you, mouth open in response, but no words arrive—because it’s more than seeing. You see Javi nearly all the nights available and yearn for him in the moments in between. The two of you are cautious in the day, but not almost as much as you should be—all of it harder to keep apart following talks of Luisa.

The old version of the two of you, the one that could fake ignorance that it was something more, stood foreign and far back. Out of reach. Fading into the past as something new tries to emerge in its place.

You fight with yourself about asking him to leave, just for a moment. So you can tell Fiestl to stop calling if he doesn’t need something—that friendly doesn’t mean friends.

But, you’re sure Javi would stay out of pettiness. Not because he doesn’t respect your requests, but because you see the ember of anger in his eyes now he knows it all. Having likely stitched the rest of the clumps of your story from before with the reasons your previous relationship withered in the first place.

You lean your head back, licking your lips as Chris says your name.

Not Luna. Your name.

Making you shift on the bed, purposefully turning so that you can see the words land where they need to.

“Yes. Yeah, I’m with him now.”

Javi’s eyes snap to you, blinding you in brown.

Oh.

He likes it. He enjoys the confirmation—all evidenced by the soft, slow, smug smile he tries to hide. Staring at you, likely not even listening, as you awkwardly bid goodbye until you throw your legs onto the bed, leaning back, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“They okay?”

“Cut the shit, Peña.”

It doesn’t come out as sharp as you usually would when he’s testing you. It’s tired and withdrawn—your eyes closed as you massage your nose.

“Fine, Fiestl, alright? Or is he a bit lonely?”

With a slap, your hand falls to your bare thigh, eyes flipping open as you stare at him. Something churning, burning, flooding your chest as you shoot the fire with your eyes.

Almost wanting to warm him with flames.

Because even if it’s clear, he’s pleased you told him you’re with him, it’s still knotting inside of him: the jealousy. All green-eyed and poison-tongued. It’s simmering like a broth, bubbling and spitting, all set to overspill and ruin the cooktop.

Something which bothers you because all of this is confusing. It’s a mess of feelings you can’t unweave from others—a mess of ropes tangled together when you had initially only wanted uncomplex and fun.

You didn’t want to… fall.

“What?”

“Why are you doing this?”

He blinks, but there’s no clarity in his eyes. No shift in his expression. Likely, not even knowing.

You know he likes to push, likes to edge things to near self-sabotage for the sake of preservation. He does it with how often he skirts the rules, and wants to take things into his own hands.

Maybe it’s because he, like you, has become aware that things are changing, developing. That you’re beginning to matter far more than a colleague he once just liked fucking. That he likes falling asleep beside you and waking up tangled in your limbs…

Because that’s what you feel too, that it means something, that it’s—

“Is he lonely out in Cali or something?”

You narrow your eyes, skin cold, spine straight.

It stings, almost wounds. Only finding the strength to turn and throw your legs back off as you stand.

“I’m just trying to understand, cariño,” he spits, throwing the sheet back as he grabs his trousers. “He begs to go but keeps calling you—almost like he wants to be back here.”

“That’s... just stop, Javi before you go too far.”

He knows it. He fucking knows he’s close. You can see in his eyes that more words had been lingering on his tongue. The apology slowly falls across his tongue. That’s already too late to be delivered.

Instead, you’d instead hope he’d just tell you the truth. He’s jealous, bitter—annoyed.

“Stop making whatever your issue is about Chris—“

“Chris, now? Huh.”

“Oh, fuck off, Javi. Yes, he’s Chris—because when I was bouncing on his cock I wasn’t calling him Fiestl. I was calling him Chris.”

“You call me—“

“I call you fucking Javi, so get a grip.”

He’s in front of you now, lightly pushing you up against the wall, eyes staring into yours. Your jaw tightens to the point of shattering, and you hate it. Hate how you want nothing more than to tell him that Chris doesn’t matter, that he shouldn’t matter.

Mostly, you despise wanting to kiss him, curling into him.

Sighing, you take a breath. “Why are you complicating this?”

His finger traces your cheek, and you want to ask him to stop. Not because it’s not nice, but because it is. Because you want to tell him you can’t stop thinking about him. That you want him more than you have wanted anyone else.

And it goes against everything.

Your intentions from the get-go were never this—

“Javi, when this is all over—with Cali. You’ll go, and I’ll be relocated—so why are you ruining this? What it is right now. Tainting it all with… fucking jealousy.”

“Come back to bed,” he whispers, brushing his knuckles against your cheek

You almost do, your knees almost bending, ready to follow. But something stops you. Something that scares you more than those dark eyes that haunt your nightmares and bullets.

You don’t want to lose him.

The back of your hand runs across your face. “No… no, I think you should just go.”

“Cariño—“

Your hand find/ his chest, but it doesn’t push. Not yet. Just resting, feeling him brace as though he expects you to.

More words churn, sitting on your chest and tongue as you open your eyes to see him studying you, eyes wider than you’ve known possible—looking more puppy-like than a person. His jaw cocked to the side, fingers wrapping around your wrist gently.

“I just wanted to fuck. That’s it. And you…”

“Me, what?”

“I can’t do more than this.”

Burning it into him. Hoping he can understand. Needing him to read the panic and the pain you keep so well hidden usually.

And he does, in a way.

“Is this because of Lorraine?”

“Who?”

“My… the woman I was meant to marry.”

You don’t mean to, but you snort. Wanting to find the right words to tell him that his commitment issues, and all the apparent other number of issues he wears like a badge of honour, have nothing to do with it.

That he’s not listening, not really.

Your face drops before you slowly shake your head, hand curling on his chest, almost brushing against his skin. “No. No, Javi. It’s because….”

“The intern… Katie?”

”If you think I blame you for fucking the intern, I do not.”

“No?”

“No, Javi. She’s fucking hot.”

“Then why—“

It scrunches your face, his confusion. Tongue struggling, words fading from your throat as you stare at him. Unmoving and unblinking, wanting to both ask him to hold you again and also get out of your place.

Wanting more, even if there’s not a lot more for him to have.

“I don’t have a heart to give you.”

Swallowing, it settles. Sitting between the two of you.

A new confession that seems heavier than the previous.

“You know what happened… you know it all, my past, my mistakes, so why… why are you complicating this?”

“Because you’re….”

“I’m broken, Javi—“

“No. No, you’re….”

It hangs.

Whatever he had been about to say.

No words, just a sea of possibilities. Not sure if they’re good or bad, pecking and nibbling at you all the same.

The room is thick with tension. It’s layered with the scent of the two of you from before you’d answered the phone. The one you regret ever picking up. Wishing instead that your brain was silent except for him, feeling so full you could never think of a single thought apart from his name.

Instead, you’re fighting him. Not even sure what you’re fighting him about. Wanting him to go but not really wanting to ask, scared he would—even more scared he won’t.

Licking his lips, he lifts your chin. Eyes pulled to his. “Because you’re you, cariño. Because I don’t fucking do this with anyone else—I haven’t. You know this. You know my past too. So you know you are different. And I…”

Want you.

The unspoken words dance from his eyes.

They hum along in the silence, backed by a tune of relaxed breaths and fading tension. Javi brands them in, doesn’t stop staring until he’s sure you hear them—feel them, understand them.

And then you sigh. One that says you won’t ask him to go without saying it. One that he replies with a sigh of his own, thankful you won’t.

“Javi…”

Meeting his eyes, feeling him brush his fingers over your forearm, your palm still against his chest. Nodding.

“I don’t miss him. I’m… I’m glad you sent him. Not because he’s my ex, and I’m petty. But, because sometimes when I see his face, I see hers, and I can’t fucking breathe—can’t even think.”

It's then he runs his fingers up and down your forearm. Roots you, in this way, he continuously tries to do.

Annoyingly, it works.

Feeling yourself slowly stop shaking, holding his gaze, wondering if he sees shards. Sees the way you’re broken that can never be repaired; see the holes in you left behind by grief and trauma.

You lean your head against the wall, closing your eyes as you swallow. “I remember the day after. When I woke up here, the other side of the bed was empty.” You force a smile. “Javi, I was glad. I was glad he’d gone, I didn’t want to be alone, but I didn’t want him here. I had nothing to say to him, no words to speak.

“And then he appeared with a mug in hand, and I tried to tell him to go, but… I had no voice. This croak came out. One that took more energy than I could spare. And so he stayed, ignoring the look in my eyes and the hatred in every breath he heard.”

You blink, meeting his stare. “You have nothing to be jealous of. I don’t love him, Javi. But I do owe him. He saved me when I gave him no reason to indicate I was anything worth saving in the state I was in. That’s it.”

He nods, swallowing back whatever words begin to froth in his throat. Because there aren’t any.

There’s not a single thing he can say.

“I do miss Van Ness, though.”

Smirking, he places his hand back around your wrist, watching you slowly slide your fingers over his chest. “Yeah?”

“He’s a grump, but….”

“He’s your friend.”

Softly, you smile, one which makes your eyes unfocus as you think. It broadens for a second before it flickers back to normal. “Don’t tell him we’re friends, he’ll shoot himself.”

He presses his forehead against yours, watching his eyes blur into one big beautiful one. “Being your friend that bad, bonita?”

“Sometimes, I’m better at being friendly.”

He swallows, likely realising the implication. “You gonna let me stay, hermosa?”

Your lips slide into a smirk before you lift onto your tiptoes. “You going to do that thing with your tongue.”

It’s nice that he kisses his response to your lips, letting his hands spread around your waist as a further confirmation.

You have a bad feeling in your gut when you watch him change for Cali—not helped by his newfound determination on your behalf.

I’m gonna get him. Okay.

You’re not sure what he expects from you. Something which sits on the tip of your tongue.

Don't do this for me. Don't use what happened to me, what I told you as fuel.

You know it would shift things between the two of you. Both light flooding in where you’d tried to keep things in the shadows, while also allowing weeds to grow in between your two’s garden.

It just hadn't crossed your mind it would seep into how he wanted to do things. That he'd empower the guilt he felt and churn it into making things better.

That passioned guilt growing increasingly stronger, oscillating as though sharing it had been what he had needed to know he could push harder.

You’re going to do this right, though. Aren’t you? Cariño… Don’t let your misplaced guilt and need to get even be the reason you go charging in like a fucking asshole. I am fine. Except you’re not.

You weren’t.

Not that you told him that.

Narrowed eyes, empty soul and self-deprecation aside, you held yourself strong as you stare him down. Knowing he sees it all now, as you see him—the two of you open. Likely more than both of you had been with someone else in a while.

Each time you find yourself in this battle, the one where you want to surge forward and marry your lips to his and the one where you want to protect yourself, you can’t help but think about the beginning. Back when you had wanted him to rip you apart, tear straight through you.

Now, you hoped he’d stick around to sew you back together. Ask to be something, to confirm the unspoken commitment was felt from both sides.

It wasn’t even a craving being with him now, not a desperation. It was something more intense—something akin to feelings you can’t begin to accept.

Fearful. Self-preservation attempts to spread through your muscles as you let him heal over old burns and kiss unseen scars. It’s more than precision the way he does it. It’s a desire to worship you—you see it in his eyes each time clothing items fall into an abandoned pile.

He starves you of him in the moments between and makes you simmer in want until you’re allowed a stolen moment. A brief brush of skin before you’re in his place—heading to his bed—making up for the gruelling hours of silent glances and back-and-forth snark.

It used to be easier to hide, stem off your desire for him. But now the adoration brims, the same one swimming in his own eyes before the two of you try to blink it away.

And now, as much as you feel the same, the wall you used to hide behind is missing. Clay and ruin splayed across the metaphorical floor, the hammer he’d put in your hands and your own need to prove you trusted him, attacking it until nothing but the base of the wall was left.

Now you’re left shale and the vulnerability of letting a person in. A feeling of unease, a tremble to your bones that no rational thoughts settle or pep talks in the mirror. Because you think you really like him. More so, maybe even—

“You think you could sort this,” Stoddard asks, pulling you back.

Eyes blinking from the clock to him, a frown beginning to deepen on your superior's forehead.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll do that now, Neil.”

Stoddard doesn’t move, hovering over your desk, a shadow cast over the papers that haven’t moved.

“Something else?”

“You sure you’re alright?”

Tilting your head, you force a frown. “Yes, why?”

Shifting his glasses on his nose, he lets out a heavy exhale. “You only call me Neil when you’re stressed…”

Swallowing, you try to blank your face.

Paint the picture of perfection—the one mastered, having cleverly shifted it into place for months.

“I…”

“You want a drink?”

He’s asked before. Many times. But this is the first time you almost answer yes, even with Dan’s voice chirping in the back of your head, pecking away.

Smirking, you drop your eyes as you take a breath. “I do, but not the kind you’d get me or be able to find in that kitchen.”

“He’ll be fine.”

You blink, something shaking inside of you.

Masterfully attempting to find a way to explain that it isn’t what it looks like (even if it very much is). That you’re worried about him because he’s your boss, and not—

“Van Ness is a good agent.”

You sigh, smiling. Taking a slow breath that refills your lungs as you stand, file in hand. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

The words on the page become a ball of ink, of nothing.

A while ago, your pen became a chewed mess—indented with stress and anxiety. The lid barely able to fit into place.

All because you’ve heard nothing, and it’s now a new day.

The coffee you’ve been pouring down your throat have begun to irritate you, somewhat vibrating as they attempt to disagree with your empty stomach and prickled nerves.

You’re about to make another drink, standing, hand hovering over your mug, when you hear the elevator—the ding so loud in the silence of the quiet office.

You watch them walk in.

Time slowing, heart resetting. No more hurried banging, but calmer, softer—almost gently.

Fiestl’s eyes land first, a soft tug of his lips, that half-smile you used to adore but now feel nothing for. An emptiness spreads through you that swallows all the anger you used to feel, making it easier to tear your eyes away.

Then, it’s brown eyes, followed by a tight smile. Soft ones, the ones which showcase every emotion even if Javi wishes they didn’t. The eyes you stare into, the ones which swallow you whole.

The ones you’ve missed, worried about…

But, it’s neither of those reasons why you move nor slide from around the desk, allowing your eyes to land on the face of the third. The taller one, the one who looks deeply unpleased to be back—even if he never wanted to go in the first place.

Your feet move, passing desks, moving towards them. And it’s only as you get so close, do you see the minor inflexions—spot the way Javi is watching in mixed confusion and relief. Realising, as you almost reach him, that he thinks the movement is for him. That you want to collide in to him—and you do, distantly. Somewhat buried underneath the words neither of you will say, scattered across the wall you used to have around you that he helped you pull down.

In your head, it’s his arms you run into.

The expressions he lets show makes your heart bloom, seeing he wishes it too. It dawned on him, realising you need a friend, not a lover. Someone who knows it all, who can read you without so much as hearing a sound come from your lips.

It’s why your feet don’t slow, going and going until arms wrap around you and your head meets a chest.

And that panic, the one which has been bubbling since the lid was peeled back, softens to a simmer. The spitting stopping, the tremble of your wrist lessening.

A calmness that feels like water splashing over you, soaking you in bliss as you feel him stiffen under your touch.

Like only Van Ness would.

You’ve missed him—all six-foot-three of him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head, the two of you just clinging.

Just like you did the first day back at work, when he found you in the file room, barely holding yourself together. Do you want to get lunch? He’d asked, knowing—but not knowing.

Caring, but not needing all of the answers. Sure.

FLASHBACK

Stealing one of his fries, you dip it into his ketchup, watching him slowly shake his head—the sunglasses covering eyes, hiding the Van Ness stare.

The one gutting you in their own special way.

“You should have ordered fries.”

“Nah,” you grin, biting it in half.

Resting his elbow on the table, the Colombian sun beats down on the two of you. Your eyes glance past his shoulder, seeing people—couples, friends, families. You hear the laughter, and how it flows with the breeze; you smell the food from the truck, blending with the unique scent of Bogotá.

It somewhat makes you glad he made you get dressed and threatened you with carrying you outdoors, until you did.

You almost smile. Almost.

Then you hear her—even if you shouldn’t.

The higher pitched sound of her laugh, the snort—almost able to feel the ghostly touch of her leaning closer and her hand grasping your forearm as she laughs.

She was a pincher. Always had been.

And your throat tightens, hand wishing to reach to cup the place she usually grasps. Your lungs ache, oesophagus almost closing as you feel your chest rising and falling, falling and rising—

Fingers releasing the fry, dropping it to your tray, any evidence of a smile stolen, taken.

“Hey…”

You feel him, his touch—all solid, accompanied by kind eyes. His glasses down his nose, Van Ness’s fingers on your wrist, pulling you back, stopping you from falling back over the cliff—

“Just breathe, okay? Just bre—“

“I can’t do this. I can—I can’t do this. I need to go home. Need—“

His thumb digs into your pulse, not enough to bruise, but to flick your eyes to his. His chin dipping, eyes stern, a smidge of sauce on the left side of his lip.

It stands out, almost like a stain, a blemish—like blood.

And then it’s scarlet, your hands coated in it. Yellow. Red. Orange and the rest of the fucking rainbow.

Fear snakes up your throat, and you grab his hand, holding it, clutching on.

Save me. Save me, please.

So like the words you cried to Chris, the ones pleading with him to get you out, to bring you home. Back to the place that felt so absent of her—the one you’d left behind. Her body in a mess, a state, one that you can blink and see tattooed on the back of your lids.

“Breathe,” Dan repeats.

Softer.

Kinder.

His hand shoves the tray aside with a clatter as he takes both of your hands and grabs them in his.

“You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe.”

It croaks, his name. Not one syllable but several, tears streaming, mixing with poorly applied makeup and sun lotion.

Not that he cares. He doesn’t care one bit.

Just repeating that you’re safe, over and over, until the two words crack through the surface and meet your soul.

Not stopping until your lungs fill with air, your pulse slowly steadying. And even then, he holds you a little longer.

“You’re safe—“

“So are you,” you manage to whisper, opening your eyes, gripping his hand in the same way he grabs yours.

You remember the chips, the sauce on his lip, the way he didn’t care about clutching you tightly even if, before that day, he’d rather slit his own eyes than offer comfort.

He was sarcasm embroiled with bitterness, a person who’d been a friend but then slid up into best.

“You’re safe,” you whisper against him.

Just for his ears, unsure if he’ll remember when you feel him move.

“So are you,” he whispers back.

You smile, looking up, slowly letting go, the two of you standing so close as you fight back an array of tears—grateful ones blended with guilt.

One for Dan—thankful he’s back.

One for your friend: the one no longer here.

And for Javi, who is still standing behind the two of you. The one who is running his hand across his face. The one you think you’re in love with—afraid of what the fuck that even means.

an: *smirks* also sorry if there are errors, i began to feel a bit unwell again (cause by me needing to eat greasy food before my stomach was properly healed) and i was too excited not to share.

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theitcharchives · 1 year ago

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I caved. I watched Loki S2

Loki season two was fine but too many of you are being insufferable about the series itself and its lore. Timelines and universes are not interchangeable things–a universe contains timelines according to the series' lore itself and I don't understand how people do not understand this. MCU Loki now holds the timelines of 199999. Quit throwing the 616 thing around (looking at you Feige) and talking about "worlds". Variants are the same people across timelines according to logic, that's why some of the Lokis in S1E5 (iirc episode number) made no sense–Mobius did.

The first season remains one of the worst things I've ever had the misfortune to see, so to say I'm pleasantly surprised by the second is something.

Be warned–pleasantly surprised does not mean "omg it's perfect" it means "I did not expect this measure of respect for character and narrative, there's some good points and there's definitely bad points".

Still, the first three episodes were boring. The narrative in them and in some places of the second three was clunky. Things were underexplained and impersonal, both rushed and scattered. X-05 did not appear outside of the first season premiere, not even the first season proper (according to the internet because I indeed had zero recollection of him and refuse to rewatch S1) yet the second season treats him as if the audience is familiar with him–and it's confusing as heck. I cannot even properly recall what exactly happened in those episodes because it was so clunky and scattered and half explained. Especially the characters and their goals and stakes. I barely cared for Loki's, let alone anyone else's–well except Ouroboros. I love that guy.

Wow, we have to save all these freed timelines? Sure. I mean it's the right thing to do, so let's do it. It would've been so easy to actually get the audience to personally care–have Loki realize in those infinite timelines, there were some he could be happy in. His mother, his brother, even his father to whom his attachment is not resolved, there had to be timelines where they were happy and safe, perhaps even with him. In some of those timelines, Loki gets his revenge on Thanos, he gets to heal. He comes to term with his birth and heritage, he remedies the wrongs he has been done and has done to others in turn. Yes, those timelines deserve to exist, because Loki should know he deserves to be happy too. His "friends" too. Those stories deserve to exist.

Speaking of under-explained... so at one point Loki just... gains control over time jumps? Like that? Did I miss something in the whole thing? Like if it's because it's him, according to The Who being what is important ("in magic", I would have expected) then say it.

Some pieces were predictable. The whole interrogation of X-05 match one and two, the ending path itself (I was surprised by the tree thing though), Loki pruning himself (did that scene really need to be drawn out like that? We get what's happening, get on with it).

Some pieces were drawn out like the self-pruning, like retrieving Victor Timely. The whole time I was like "You've seen him, you can block objects in mid-air and teleport people in cages, snatch him and throw him in a portal so he can see the TVA instead of just talking to him and convince him–why does he need to be convinced?? Show him!!?" Details like these, like the machine that makes the shrinking cubes being left at all in the cell, Ravonna not actually looking to see if any other minutemen were considering her offer before compressing them all (I guess they had to slim down the cast, but man), Loki the Jotun with super strength having to run kilometers to catch one human–silly.

Things that were left out–Thanos, completely. The Jotun heritage. Loki being the scapegoat child in the narcissistic royal family, all his conditioning. It is said he wants a throne, it is never acknowledged why: being groomed to do so since childhood through mentions he was born to be a king, upbringing, education, treatment by family and society. The gender fluidity and sexuality, though with the MCU's regard for those things, it's likely better they left them alone–though the lack of shapeshifting was miffing. New York was handled better than I would've expected, but still breezily.

Now to be fair, many things were good. B-5 outright stating that the pruning the TVA does is an atrocity and convincing others. I'm ambivalent about Loki and Mobius–their relationship in the first season was a terrible one, but they genuinely roped me in in the second. Some things were funny in that delicate way that doesn't need clownery and one-liners that I'd been missing ever since the first two Thor movies. Ouroboros (especially in episode 5–ouch, too close to home). The soundtrack, amazing. The acting came across as more heartfelt. I even managed to tolerate Sylvie in the last few episodes–and oh yeah, leaving romance of any kind out, completely. Thank fuck. Loki actually being the main character of his own series. The fifth and sixth episodes. The sets, the props also felt real. The final outfit is growing on me. The dialogues, the interactions, the camera work, my gods, some parts were amazing. I am willing to rewatch it to make more sense of things, and look at other MCU works to see if it will impact them. I had given up on the MCU–Loki roped me in, Loki gave me back some interest when I thought it was dead for good.

Oh I'm still mad all my searches for comics appearances are cluttered with MCU stuff. I'll be mad until it calms out. "What if it never-" then I guess I'll never stop holding a grudge and complaining.

In the end, I'm just glad Loki got his not-terrible ending. I don't like that his final choice and chance was to sacrifice himself and all his needs for others, sitting in a tree holding the 199999 universe's timelines together, alone after saying teary eyed that he doesn't want to be alone. But it's still better than how he was treated and discarded from T:Ragnarok to Infinity War, and it doesn't exclude Loki from showing up again, some way or the other.

Obligatory link to the Loki comics reading list.

#loki series spoilers #loki series #loki show #mcu loki #loki series critical

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popculturebuffet · 13 days ago

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TMNT Month: Mutant Turtles: Superman Legend The Weird Fun Turtles OVA that Didn't Loose It's Glasses (Comission for Emma Fici)

Hello all you happy heroes in a halfshell and welcome to tmnt month, a celebration of the most radical heroes of all for their 40th. For those just joining, i'm jake I do reviews.. and I ended up having to cut part of this month off as I needed to take the rest of last week off after.. well you know. I was.. not in the best place.

So I wasn't in any shape to write.. not helping was a chaotic weekend turned into week where my sister is in the hosptial. It''s been a slow recovery, but i've gotten there: Migrating from twitter to bluesky has helped as I can just watch people say funny things and talk stuff without getting flavor blasted with a dickhead forcing his opinon on me becuase he owns the place. You can find me there here

That plus seeing Hugh Grant sing radio heads creep and Weird Al and Will Forte give a full throated performance of hot to go, not to mention a loving supportive family, have helped me move past this hard time.

And in these trying times... this is honestly the perfect thing to come back with. A truly bonkers piece of a franchise I dearly love that's fun to dunk on but still genuinely fun to watch. It's insane by TMNT standards which are pretty high. The series is usually running from a pretty batshit place even at it's most grounded. But legend of the supermutants is easily one of the weridest experiments in the franchises history.

It came about for the reasons most things did during the height of the tmnt's popularity in the late 80's and early 90s

This OVA came about because in Japan there was a line of super mutant toys, and soon after another line metal mutants so to promote them, these ovas were crafted by tv tokyo, done in a style similar to the 87 cartoon. Why they didn't make one for the bodacious birthday turtles I have no idea

I mean I want to see pennywise poppin mikey fight raph the magnificent while birthday guest leo watches. Donetello is presumibly dead in this timeline.

In Loving Memory of Shark Fistin Donetello

As for why there wasn't more that's simple: TMNT was petering out at this point , on the final season of the 87 cartoon so there probably wasn't a ton of profit to be had. Now why it hasn't been brought here SINCE is a mystery as it's the kind of curosity tmnt fans would love and a good chunk of the cast is still around to dub it, and by this point nick finally has the rights to the 87 cartoon in full. It could be issues with TV Tokyo we just don't know.

There was also a manga that wasn't offically translated here but you can find on archive.org. It's also bonkers in the conkers, featuring shrinking, creepy masks and fanservice for all

I couldn't review them in here as it was a bit much to try and cram into one review but I also felt i'd be remiss if you all didn't see splinter rocking that loin cloth. I mean come on april , he deseves to show off his toned ass as much as you do.

While you won't get butts with this ova you do get twin faries, Shredder wanting to eat krang , overused running gags, the ending of sonic adventure, the star of ninja gaiden, a fuckton of mirrors, sexy lizardman rocksteady, murder, a seemingly endless joke about glasses, trains, and krang's silky voice used as an instrument of torture. These two episodes are insane, wonderful and I can't wait to show them off under the cut.

The Great Crisis of the Super Turtles! The Turtle Saint Appears!

The Turtle Saint Appears opens with a recap for an episode that dosen't exist, explaning the new status quo for our heroes: So our heroes were summoned by Krys Mu, a magical fairy that guards the mutatstones, 4 powerful stones that can super mutate their user and allow the turtles to become buff more humanoid super charged versions of themselves and also they can fuse now. This power isn't just for good as Cris Mu's evil sister dark mu is contained in an evil mutastone of greed that Krang uses on shredder , bebop and rocksteady since he ain't got no body and he's sad and lonely. Our heroes won and now stand ready. Now you may be having some questions. Valid ones like "Why this wasn't it's own episode", "why is shredder in dope new armor"

, and "Why is rocksteady's form a sexy lizardman"

And rest assured you'll get.. one answer. Just the one. He's very lonely. Shredder's armor is explained in the manga: the turtles destroyed it during their last fight with him, and Krang made him a spiffy new set that also gives him super strength and stuff. Something the special COULD have brought up instead of cramming this all into two minutes but I digress. The rest.. is left pretty vauge and is a bit out of this neck of the franchises usual reliacne on aliens and stuff. This is straight up magic, which I've seen isn't ABSENT, btu they usually use a super science hand wave.

I"m not going to be too harsh on this insanity though for a simple reason: this special was made to sell toys. I grant the 87 cartoon and all turtles cartoons after it show you CAN make a good cartoon and still merchandise the crap out of it, but with just an episode a piece to make a backstory for these and presumibly not just wanting to have an origin story an episode, I get the episodes picking style over subtstance, going for a flashier end of the world plot instead of two origin stories in a row.

We then get our spiffy theme song. It's endearingly cute talking about how their fighting turtles, not ordinary turtles and having a nice peppy bit. it's not my faviorite japanese tmnt opening but it's a close second out of two

youtube

I mean you can't hear that and not get hype. You just can't. Fun Fact: this dub also seems to have been done by TVTOKYO.. and didn't quite do so good as the darker astetic didn't play well to fans of the original. Alas.

So onto the episode itself: the stars are going out and to no one's suprise it's that no good bastard Krang done did it. He's feeding the stars to dark mu to power her up. Shredder is less than impressed and his mood dosen't improve when he finds out krang's plan: to blow up the earth

Shredder's temper tantrum increases when he finds out Krang wants them to live in dimension x instead and we move to the next scene as he rants about Krang being an octopus and how he's going to eat them.

We transition from Shredder's poorly disguised fetish to NASA where a scientest up in space notes the stars are going out. Mission Control asks if he has his glasses on. This gag... bothers me. It bothers me on a level it shoudln't especially given what a week i've had, but it's just the same stupid "YOU WEARING YOUR GLASSES" gag repeated. The only varation is someone in his shuttle finding his glasses.. but those were his backups. They just keep hammering this stupid gag into my skull while I pray for Krang to hurry the hell up and win already so this stupid glasses guy can go with the rest of the earth.

April reports on this naturally and we cut back to the turtles, splinter.. and april as it was a pre recorded segment for a change, and they discuss what's going on trying to figure out what this means. Mikey suspects THE ALIENS... and I mean.. he gets shouted down.. but krang IS an alien. He's from another dimension, but he's a creature that can live outside his physical body as a living brain and comes from another planet. He qualifies. I mean Shredder isn't but the special weirdly refers to shredder and the foot clan like he's not the only human member of a team consisting of robot minions, two mutant dummies and a living brain he wants to vore.

Crys Mu chimes in and confirms it's her sister dark mu: she feeds on chaos, sisters am I rite?, and thus this whole business is getting her ready to emerge which would end the world.

She needs more energy though so Krang sends out the dumbass patrol to go cause a ruckuss. The Foot Soldiers aren't present as their on vacation. No really their on vacation and we see them later having a good time on a beach. It's amazing and I applaud the gag. A lot of the humor in this special dosen't quite hit, but that gag is genius. This is why you have unions, with the guild of calamitous intent even henchman get paid days off, mechanical men or not.

So with a crimewave high with muggings mysterious, the Turtles go to tussle with their foes. In a touch I love splinter.. sees this for what it is and gets involved: The turtles go to fight team chucklefuck, and splinter goes to face Krang himself, something I love as... it's not a fight I think we've ever really gotten.

This is down to Splinter's roll in the franchise: he's for the most part the tough but fair mentor. There's been deviations as always: his 2012 self is still tough on the boys a time but has a gentler touch, his rise incarnation is a hot mess content to just binge on snacks and ignore his mountain of trauma, and his mutant mayhem incarnation has all the stern yet wise mentorship you expect.. but is also an INCREDIBLY awkward dad. There's universal traits: the love for his sons, a background in martial arts, the name hamoto yoshi if he was a human. But his roll tends to stand firm: he's there to support and teach the boys and when their without him their at their most frought and vulnerable.

But being the boys dad.. it also means it's a tad less fun to include him at times, and so the boys are mostly left to their own divicies, with Splitner stepping in being a sign shit has gotten THAT bad, like how he shows up during their first fight with the shredder in the 2003 cartoon , at the climax of the live action movie or my personal faviorite in the idw comics when Casey , part of the family at this point, is beaten up by his abusive dad again. Splitner rescues the boy, threatens his dad and makes it clear he's not going anywhere near the boy or else. Incarnations that loose splinter tend to feel lost afterwords wether it's temporary like his kidnapping in the movie or seeming death in rise, or permenant like his deaths in 2012 and IDW. The turtles are pure escapism and execs and writes probably figure kids, adults and whoever don't want their dad hanging over them every step. There to support them, love them and step the fuck in when things are worst.. but giving them space to let them just caper and have fun on their own. To have their own adventures.

As a result when Krang shows up, Splinter usually either isn't there to intervene, or assumes they can handle it. The 2012 series has him mildly involved, but he's more heavily involved with the foot storyline due to Shredder's unending hatred of him. Krang is just another one of the weridos his son punches in the face. Shredder is as much his arch enemy in most continuties as he is the boys.

So it's neat to see them square off.. but sadly there isn't an actual fight. The fights in this ova are mostly just.. people shooting their special attacks at one another. It LOOKS cool and what not but you can tell they didn't have the budget for actual full on fights and use sharp cuts and what not. So the turtles grapple with the super troopers while Splinter and Krang just .. make banter. It's disapointing. I mean I can play shredders revenge again and play the second to last level but it's just not the same. I do like that when they get flooded out of the lair Krang chastises Splinter for leaving the door open and the joke of Krang being more upset SPlinter barged in unannounced with Krys Mu by his side.

Sadly that flood means: it's time. the fight between the turtles and team chucklefuck lasted just long enough for him to do a sonic adventure and flood new york. Now our heroes gotta open their hearts or else, as Dark Mu arrises and she's.. Krys mu but iwth black hair, a sexier outfit and more power. Krang naturally has her use it on shredder and this is where this up to this point entirely normal special about the turtles turning into roided up versions of themselves who look meh and fight super versoins of their enemies, inclduign shredder as a giant terrifying dragon man for some reason, goes off the rails. Krang makes his shredder grow.. and as a result shredder is a GIANT MONSTER. Wow this really is the climax to a sonic game.

So Raph says what we're all thinking "Shit". Casual swearing in Japanese Childrens Media, you love to see it. We then get the greatest moment in either episode as splinter launches a giant murder ball of energy at the turtles.. and Splinter FUCKING CATCHES IT. Keep in mind Splinter dosen't have a mutastone, is deep in middle age, and isn't hurt at all from this, while Shredder has been given DOUBLE mutastone power and made into a fucking kaiju.. and Splinter STILL fucking blocked the attack. The action here may be slowly portioned out, but dman if it isn't fluid when it happens.

THe boys and splinter escape into april's news helicopter, which shredder bats at like a kitten. So Donnie.. has a clever plan. And a really clever one. He gets down there and fucking BAITS kaiju shredder, goading him into attacking a building.. enough to SAW IT IN HALF SO IT FALLS ON TOP OF HIM. Look this special is silly as fuck but you can't say it's not amazing. Donnie dropped a building on a fucking kaiju shredder.

Dark Mu decides to just fly into space and kill everyone because she can do that. She always could. Shut up. So the turtles have to use their ultimate power. The Turtle Saint. You think they'd save this for the line blatantly riping off saint seyia but no, their going full saint now merging into a bigger turtle man. And since I have the opprotunjity I gotta say.. the deisgns for the super turtles are mid as hell

Now i will give credit where it's due. The masks are dope as fuck. Their cool, heroic, and really pop. The rest though.. is just the turtles as more humanoid. Their pretty standard super humans and ther'es no diffrence between the four. Which is normal sure, but in a toyline that also got as weird and creative as "let's make raph a birthday magician", they could do better. I"m not saying "Let's make Raph a Birthday Magician is the peak of creativity.. but it is amazing.

The saint mode is a bit bettery. I don't like how white it is and wish it's midsection was yellow or green instead of blue, as Blue is leo's color. Same iwth the max. You could've made the belt Blue to represent leo. It gives the impression he's in control instead of what the Saint is: all four of them controlling one body. I still like it more than the base form though: while the coloring is off, it looks less generic, with the superhero outfit, mighty sword, giant wings and turtle feet more visable but also armored. It gives a better impression of this being a super mode the turtles use than the regular super mutation.

I also like how the saint functions: it has a three minute time limit, explaning why they don't just use it and beat everyone up, and it's HARD to use. Simliar to waht Steven Universe would do eventually, the fusion relies on the boys working in synch mentally.. and given how their all so vastly diffrent: the dutiful son, the angry wiseass, the loveable goofus and the science boy, it's very hard to actually CONTROL saint mode. So while it's mostly played for laughs Dark Mu genuinely dominates the fight and our heroes can't land a hit. I like when a super mode has limits, that it's not just an instant win button but something that you have to master.

So to win the day Crys Mu sacrifcies herself, pulling a goku and grabbing her sibling so the turtles can kill them both. They naturally don't want to stab their friend.. but Crys insures them as a spirit she can't die.

So naturallyt hey pull off their finisher for crys and kill both fairies. The turtles are then picked up by nasa. And... in a dark time such as this.. it's so nice that i'm getting paid to write that and to have watched that.

The turtles look out and see the crystals floating in space, implying both farieis survivied but are now trapped in the void... then we end on a joke and some end credits so we're just moving on from that. Crys and Dark only get mentioned in the opening credits. While Mutastones are involved it's pretty much a complete soft reset: the turtles mutastones are inert, so they need a fresh set and kenner needs a fresh set of toys to plug soooooooooo....

The Coming of the Guardian Beasts - The Metal Turtles Appears!

So for this adventure

And so are the turtles as Splitner got a message from a hidden ninja villiage he's cool with that needs his help. The thing is the setup makes more sense than last time: Splinter and Shredder ARE from Japan, and while Splinter got framed and thrown out of the foot clan, given what Shredder turned it into it's not a shock he'd still have allies who'd want his help.

Mikey of course goofs around and then has to shove himself into the taxi in a great bit of physical comedy. Back with Team Dumpdumb, Krang has found a new mutastone and wants Shredder to go get it, who bitch cries about how the mutastones are all trouble, he dosen't get beat up and how women are in star wars now and that displeases him. Krang gets him to do his bidding the usual way... by laughing in a very annoying high pitched voice till shredder does what he says. I know the 87 shredder isn't the most compitent shredder.. but I have to belivie he can outlast a laugh and go five minutes without whining like a toddler.

So they get teleported to Japan.. on top of a bullet train. The turtles are interrupted from a riviting conversation with a passenger about what thomas the tank engine character they are to deal with this.. and also have to hang the fuck on. I love this as until archer I hadn't thought of how.. fucking hard it'd be to actually fight on top of a moving vechile let lone one this fast, and it's a great gag. The turtles don't have to fight though as NINJAS arrive, including their leader and the one who sent for splinter, Hattori Kinzo who looks distractingly like Ryu, the protaganist of Ninja Gaiden

They use some shurikens to knock shredder off a train, again love this job so much, and take the turtles to their villiage to get their help. As it turns out he needs help guarding a sacred mirror that contains a set of sacred stones, fresh new mutastones. Unfortuantely for them a ghost of a bandit or something whose not really explaind shows uand just .. laughs. Yeah why the ghost came back is never really explained, he's left vauge as to if he's helping the turtles or team shredder.

Speaking of team ran out of names, they find our heroes and the shrine grows into a castle everyone starts climbing. eventually though raph questions

So they split up: the non mutant ninjas keep climbing and the mutant ninjas take the stairs.

This ends up not mattering as Bebop, Rocksteady and shredder beat the turtles and while Team Ninja tries to throw fake mirrors everywhere it fails and Shredder grabs the mirror.

So after beating Ninja Gaiden we get ARMORED versions of the villians. And look i've only read maybe a volume of saint seia, a manga about our boys they can be heroes, and frankly even that little tells me their just using the same gimmic, replacing the animals of the western astrological zodiac with animals of the chinese zodiac. That said while the concepts a blatant knockoff.. they do a good job making it thir own. If you compare the designs

There's defintely some similarites in the head pieces, but they vary it up enoguh int he actual armor to still feel creative and they look dope. Each one fits the turtles: Leo has a samurai garb, Raphs flame motif fits him and his animal, michealngeo has warm round edges and donnie's looks mildly cybernetic. It's smallt ouches but it's clear the animators put a bunch of thought into it. The toys themselves well.

Yeah these do not look great, with the indviduality gone for the most part and the armor clunkily fitting over previously existing molds. While I get the point of this it dosent look great. The designs for the others also look sharp: SHredder gets white tiger armor a perfect contrast to Leo's dragon, Rocksteady gets errr snakes and Bebop is a pirhana for some reason.

`I esepcailly love shredders looking like a dope upgrade of his normal look.

Our heroes are at a disadvantage easily getting curb stommped until the ghost who pointed shredder to the mirror.. helps them get it. Our heroes get their forms. And no I don't quite get the spider either but it looks cool and the fight here is a bit more intenstive if still mostly calling special moves. but the moves look spiffy and the finale is excellent. Shredder tries to retreaate as he didn't know till Ninja Gaiden explained it that the suits hav ea time limit so we get a neat beam struggle between him and leo.. that ends when the time limit comes too. The bad guys are beat but still have thier stones, but our heroes have theirs, everyone celebrates and the castle collapses because why not. NOTHING WAS RESOLVED

I like the metal mutants episode more as I write about it. The first one is more batshit insane, but this feels like a more solidly put together story. I mean it's still nuts, yo uhave the random ghost, but it feels far more in line with 87 tmnt: plenty of jokes but nice stakes and action to go with them and a premise and setup that could easily slot into the show before the red sky days.

Overall theses ovas are goofy fun. Probably not among the best turtles content but fun unique toy tie ins that are just long and batshit enough to be fun, but not so long they outstayed their welcome. I would've loved a full TMNT anime and still would at some point, but this is a pretty neat piece of turtles nonsense right when I needed it most. Thanks for reading.

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knitnightstudio · 1 year ago

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Ed's emerald ring, a love story

2x8, heading into the final stretch!

We get two long and lingering shots of the emerald. But first we get almost nothing.

We see it for a moment as Ed looks at a fish scale

And when he's driving the fishermen bananas

And for the briefest of moments when he's rowing

and when he's killing the first englishmen

But all of these shots are "pause or you will miss them" shots like in episodes 1 and 2.

The real reveal doesn't happen until here

Ed and Stede reunite and the kissing and the carassing and the lingering eye contact are the real stars, but just below that is the emerald ring.

And that emerald shines, all over Stede's face, neck, and chest. Stede is here, Ed is here, they love each other and that friggin emerald knows it. Ed is going to touch every inch of that man and show off his emerald while he does it. There is not a movement in this scene where Ed is going to let us forget what that ring means.

It is bright day light, people are all over the place. kissing in the moonlight and in the dark cabin (is still amazing) can't hold a candle to this love in the broad daylight.

After this (go watch the kiss a few dozen more times, it's good for you) we see the emerald in virtually every scene, and Ed and Stede are touching in virtually every scene.

We get a pretty good shot of the ring when Ed, Stede and Zhang are talking. This photo is also the cover art for a pirate university, happy students on the quad!

Later Ed covers his left hand and the ring when he calls Stede's plan a suicide mission. Not gonna let the ring peak out for that one.

The next and biggest close up of the ring is when Izzy is dying and Ed thrusts his hand forward. He's losing his family, but Izzy reminds him that he is surrounded by family. Stede is his family and the ring is there, in the closest image we have had of it yet. Ed needs Stede now more then ever, and Stede is there for him. He has Stede.

This is also the first time we get a VERY clear, direct, and lingering shot of the ring in front of the crew. Yes he wore it at Jackie's the night before, but the bar was dark and we didn't see a shot with the crew AND the ring together, just a general vibe of openness. Now here it is, The ring, the crew, Stede, Ed's family. All together for the first time in 1 shot. This is real love. This is happening.

We only see the ring one more time, at Izzy's funeral, but it's noticible that this is yet another group scene with the crew where the ring is clearly visible.

We don't see the ring clearly again, but we do get some wedding vows, seems Ed and Stede have already fulfilled them...

Do you vow to protect and, if necessary, kill... for each other?

Do you vow to avenge the other in the event of your grisly death or dismemberment?

Do you vow to keep each other's ship afloat?

And that's the love story folks. David Jenkins has given us so much. Not only do we see Ed and Stede's love through their actions, but Jenkins also gave us the ability to follow the same love story by *only* listening to the music for each episode and by only watching the ring shrink and grow over the season.

I'm absolutely flabbergasted by the amount of love and creativity and time Jenkins and the team put into this show. And with a 40% smaller budget then they had for season 1.

I know some fans are upset about some big points, and some are upset by some small points, but look at what this team gave us.

They were told to take half of what they needed and to go make some tv.

Instead they took that money and crafted the most insightful, love filled, detailed oriented, love letter that I have ever seen. Not 1 second of this season was without purpose. Regardless if you liked the outcome or not, not a second was wasted.

There have been amazing posts about the way the team used lighting, music, and a host of other things to imbue this season with meaning. I strongly urge you to delve into all of them, because if you think this emerald thing was meaningful, wait until someone who knows what they are talking about explores all the music.

This is a love story, a queer love story, that you can see and hear and nearly touch. David Fucking Jenkins, if you are not given 200% of your budget for season 3 a travesty has occured.

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gmwsuperfan5467890 · 1 year ago

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Other Opinions on American Housewife

I just posted an opinion on Triplor and why I am not a huge fan of the ship. Here are my other opinions.

-Katie>>>> Greg. Katie is more aware of her flaws, which makes her really likeable (to me), while Greg sometimes acts like he is a saint for putting up with Katie, which rubs me the wrong way. Though most of the time, he loves and accepts his wife for who she is, so I’ll forgive him for that.

- The cliffhanger of Katie being pregnant at the end? Horrible. She clearly does not want any more kids. She is always talking about how tired they make her and how she can’t wait until they all leave for college. Now you’re telling me that she is going to do it all over again for another 18 years?! Let this woman relax and enjoy the empty-nester life, she doesn’t need anymore kids!

-I just remembered another reason why Greg makes me mad. There was an episode where he kept on badgering Katie about having another kid and she kept on telling him no and then he got pissed and acted like she was the villain???? Excuse me sir, you’re not the one who has to be pregnant for 9 months, then push that baby out of your hooha and then take care of that baby for most of the time, so shut up. And then the episode’s ‘happy ending’ is Katie considering having another baby to make Greg happy. Oh fuck off.

-One thing I have not seen addressed. Katie and Greg are in crisis mode when they hear about Taylor hooking with Trip but them hearing about Oliver and Cooper preparing to touch their girlfriends’ boobs is okay to them?? Keep in mind that Oliver and Cooper were like 15 max at the time while Taylor was older than them for all the instances this type of thing happened.

-I am neutral on Anna-Kat and Franklin’s relationship. I usually don’t like the trope of little kids dating because I find it weird, let kids be kids. But in this case, it’s more realistic. When they start ‘dating’ their relationship does not really change, they still act like how they used to and when they have big moments like the ‘proposal’, it’s not played seriously, which I appreciate.

- One thing I love about the show is that the characters and their dynamic with each other are so complex. For example, Anna-Kat is her mother’s favourite, which would theoretically mean that she wouldn’t lack any love or attention yet she craves the love and attention of her siblings yet there are times where she is excluded or isolated by them because of Katie’s favouritism and because she is much younger than them.

- I also loved how creative some of the episodes are: for example, the episode where the hoodie Katie picks determines how the rest of her day goes was so engaging to watch and definitely one of the best episodes of the show.

- I also liked that every season had a big event that the characters had to work towards ie the gala, prom and election.

- Doris and Angela deserved better, they needed more plots and more backstory. I think it would have been interesting to have an episode in Angela’s or Doris’s perspective. Or they could have done an episode every season where it was in the perspective of a different housewife.

-This show has a diversity problem in general, to be honest.

-This show has a lot of disney/Nickelodeon actors. Two examples I want to point out because I haven’t seen people talking about them: the guy that played Lonnie is from True Jackson VP and Audra was in that Girl Meets World episode (I think it was called Girl meets She don’t like me).

-The actress that plays Katie’s mum voices Beatrice Horseman! And she is in Shrinking (10/10) show

-The general consensus here is that Oliver and Cooper are in love (which I 100% agree) but have we talked how Brie and Charlotte are paralleled to them which in my mind means they are also in love. Brie and Oliver are both bi and had feelings for each other but those feelings were not as strong as the feelings they had for their respective best friends, while Cooper and Charlotte are both gay and suffering from comp-het. Like I’m sorry, the whole, ‘Whatever my best friend does with their SO, I have to do exactly the same’ thing is really gay.

#american housewife #oliver otto #taylor otto #anna-kat otto #katie otto #greg otto

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bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus · 2 years ago

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Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Four: The Fool

Hey all! I hope you enjoy this chapter as I had a lot of fun writing this one! :)

As per usual, apologies for any grammar mistakes. Exam season is coming in thick and fast too, around May to June, so momentum for this fic will be slowing down by a lot. You guys have been so patient so far and I'm very grateful for it.

Word count: 6,327

Warnings: Threats of violence, strong language, horror elements, Y/N having a bit of a moment, and Ghost and Soap being a pair of daft himbos.

Ghost and Soap really are the epitome of 'tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber'. Yes, Ghost is mean and moody, hot and broody, but I also believe that when he gets comfortable with someone, he loses about 95% of his intelligence.

“Aha!” He got out a small red bag with a white cross on it. “Roll it up so I can see what we’re dealing with here.”

23 shifted awkwardly, refusing.

Graves sighed, “Kid, you gotta help me out. I’m the one with the first aid kit and you’re the one with the bleeding knee. Let me have a look and try to sort this out.”

Again, she refused, shrinking away from him a little. Phillip rolled his eyes under his mask and then made for her, reaching forward to bring her closer to him. The child soldier backed up even further, almost falling off the tree stump she was sitting on as she swatted his hand away. He muttered a curse under his breath and turned around.

“72,” he called, “could you tell your, uh… Could you tell 23 here that I need her to show me the injury so I can fix it?”

“He’s not got any intentions of hurting you, 23,” 72 said, not looking up from her crossword, “You can see for yourself.”

Eventually, the younger of the two girls came around and rolled up her trouser leg to expose her knee. Graves winced a little as the injury was revealed. It was a nasty scrape, not too deep, but it definitely looked like it hurt. The joint itself was a little swollen too.

“I think you might have sprained it,” he remarked, bringing the leg closer to his concealed face.

“It really hurts.”

“I’m sure it does, hun.”

As he got to cleaning up the blood and debris of gravel with an antiseptic wipe, 7629 approached and set down a small bowl beside him.

“Thanks.”

“You better eat quickly. I think Valeria’s gonna be up soon.”

“Roger.”

He briefly stopped tending to 23, removing his hand from her leg to feel around for the release-mechanism on his canister-less mask. Phillip couldn’t remember how exactly he ended up with no canisters on his face, but, then again, he couldn’t exactly remember how ended up unconscious, on top of Valeria… who was also unconscious, looking like she had just escaped from an animal attack. The woman’s clothes had been torn in a pattern of scratch marks, with a shallow but still painful bite on her shoulder.

He was still puzzled as to how she got those slashes and how he ended up covered in blood too, with bite marks of his own littering his forearms… because he was still denying it was him.

Phillip was also denying that he had any part to play in 23’s sprained and bloody knee.

No one had told him anything useful about what had happened to the kid too, just that she had tripped trying to run away from someone. 72 had mentioned offhandedly that she had gone looking for him once the dust had settled and the pack had cleared the area of hostiles but…yeah, at this point he’d rather not know.

He took a spoonful of whatever 7418 had cooked up in that cheap-looking iron pot, only to almost faint from sheer delight.

Phillip never thought he’d see the day when he’d experience a ‘foodgasm’.

“Holy shit!” he said with a mouthful of the stuff, “What the fuck did you do to this, ‘418?!”

7418 shrugged, shaking his head as he chuckled, watching over the bubbling pot.

Graves was certain it had to be mutton or something, the texture reminding him of lamb. He had no idea how 7418 had managed to make something so good from mere camping food. He knew the guy had brought little jars of spices with him, catching the scent of them as he walked past 7418’s rucksack every now and then. The other guys, who had known him longer, appeared to have this running gag about him being the Las Almas cartel’s cook, as opposed to an ex-sicario, as shown by 7152 slapping him lightly on the back and addressing him as ‘Chef Ramsey’.

Anyways, Graves took one more spoonful of his dinner and quickly got back to patching up 23.

“I don’t want this getting any worse,” he mumbled as he got out a large plaster, “You stay close to 72 and you don’t get into the heat of the action. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” she sighed.

“I’m not having two kids dying on my watch. You help when I say you can, and you stay out of it when I say you do.”

She nodded.

“And that goes for you too, 72!”

The other girl gave him a thumbs-up, still working through her crossword.

Phillip shuddered at the mere thought of losing these two. Sure, he wasn’t exactly a good person per se, but the man had morals. Children. Children were where he would draw the line. Furthermore, judging by how the other guys didn’t really have much regard for them, he knew he would have to take it upon himself to ensure their safety. Graves just hoped they wouldn’t make that too difficult for him.

He pouted a little as he saw 23’s melancholy expression.

“You’re fine, 23.”

That didn’t really do much to cheer her up.

Then, Graves had an idea. He got up and moved a few feet to kneel down by the supply bags. After retrieving the desired item, he returned to kneeling before 23, presenting it to her.

“Hey!” he called for her attention, “At least your little camcorder didn’t break during your fall.”

A small smile crept onto her face as she took it from him, eager to start flicking through any footage she captured. A warmth found itself building in Phillip’s chest as he watched on, relief sweeping over him as he saw some colour and some cheeriness return to his lamia.

That was when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

“She’s up, 7223.”

He nodded and thanked 7629. Then, he got up, told 23 to stay put and 72 to watch over her, before taking his leave. Not wanting his food to go cold, Phillip took his bowl with him, wolfing down a few more spoonfuls as his fellow soldier led him to where they had put Valeria.

Her eyes fluttered open, and Valeria was quick to pick up on the fact both her arms and her legs had been restrained. The wilderness which engulfed Las Almas was where she found herself. With a grunt, she struggled a little against the restraints, to test how securely they had been wrapped around her. Her legs had been bound by wiry rope and her arms were brought around and secured together behind her. Well, behind a tree. Valeria had been cuffed to a tree trunk.

As her vision cleared up, she saw three figures approaching from the small gathering a few metres ahead. She kept her head high, not wanting to show any sign of weakness. However, her captors could easily see through her facade of confidence, hearing her heart race inside her chest. 7629 couldn’t help but salivate a little, hackles raising, his mind filled with blood-drunk thoughts of a tasty meal.

Graves too could sense her blood rushing through her body. So… much… of… it. He shook away the urges, a little unnerved by them.

“So,” Valeria sighed, shoulders slumping a little, “what do you want this time, lobos?”

“We have a job for you.” The one in the middle spoke.

More specifically, the American one.

Valeria felt a shiver run down her spine. He was the one who half-ate Alvaro and almost devoured her too.

“Job?” she scoffed, putting on a mask of her own, of being unfazed and unafraid, “I don’t take orders anymore. I can offer intel to the Foundation, but I won’t do jobs.”

“You see, that’s the problem.” The American one feigned an apologetic sigh. “We have all the intel we need so bartering your way out of this with information ain’t gonna help.”

His voice was much clearer with his mouthpiece removed and mask drawn up to reveal some of his face. Now, Valeria knew why she recognised him from the scuffle.

“Graves?” she asked, almost timidly, “Phillip Graves, is that you?”

“Hi, Valeria.” He grinned, his voice coming out almost like a purr.

Her heart threatened to burst, blood rushing in her ears. She could feel herself begin to quiver a little.

“I saw you die. Your tank exploded. You would have been literal pieces…”

“It’s amazing what we can achieve with modern medicine, isn’t it?” he chuckled, resting his hands on his knees as he leaned in.

This was bad. This was really bad. The Foundation wanted him to be here for a reason. They wanted him here because he had connections. He was very much relevant to whatever task these lot were undertaking.

Alejandro, Rudy, and the rest were in grave danger.

Her tan skin had paled a little, breaths becoming shallow, as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“What does the Foundation want with the Vaqueros?”

“It’s not the Vaqueros we’re after.”

Valeria chewed on the inside of her cheek, already dreading the answer to her next question. The woman prayed that they already knew the information she was about to divulge in her question, or she would end up giving those boys away.

“What does the Foundation want with Task Force 141?”

“A client has a target we need to make a Son out of,” another spoke up from behind Phillip, “and we need you to deliver the infection.”

Valeria felt a cold sensation run through her.

“Why me?”

“Does it matter?”

The woman had an idea. Most likely, it was to keep the element of surprise for when they’d extract their new packmate. On the other hand, though, they could’ve kidnapped anyone else to do that. This was personal. Well, she sighed, that is the Foundation. They held grudges and they held power. No one, ex-lamia or ex-gorgon, was ever truly a free woman.

She didn’t want to do this. She really didn’t. Infecting someone with this… that would be delivering them a fate worse than death. Valeria was sick but there were still a few morals lingering at the back of her mind. Morals that were coming to the forefront now. The angel on her shoulder was screaming at her to just let them kill her and find someone else to be their personal postman.

Graves tilted his head to one side, impatience growing as Valeria’s silence dragged on.

Whilst Valeria’s reluctance was the dominant, screeching voice inside her head, her logical side was still very much part of this internal debate… and it argued well.

Death for her was… not ideal.

Valeria didn’t want to die but she also didn’t want to be part of this twisted game of ‘Pass the Parcel’.

“Well,” the logical part of her argued, “you wouldn’t really be part of this game, not voluntarily, anyway.”

Besides, word was, on the street, that a runaway lamia was sighted in their hepta-plate armour just on the outskirts of Las Almas. Yes, it wouldn’t be ideal to foist another problem onto that poor person but… wouldn’t they mind helping a fellow sister out? Valeria prayed that the rogue lamia would stay long enough to cross paths with the monster she was about to help create.

Her hands were tied, both literally and figuratively.

Valeria swallowed hard, desperately trying to cling to her slipping facade of fearless strength.

One of the hounds behind Phillip growled, hackles raising a little.

“Valeria,” 7418 began, “do you want to know what we’re having for dinner tonight?”

He pointed to the bowl of food Graves had set on the ground.

No, she didn’t want to know.

He chuckled.

"Te lo diré, de todos modos. ¡Es uno de tus sicarios y será mejor que empieces a cumplir o te unirás a ellos en un maldito caldo!"

"I'll tell you, anyway. He's one of your hitmen and you'd better start complying or join them in a damn broth!" was what he had said.

She sighed resignedly, horrified but not surprised. They were nothing but animals after all. At this point, Arcadian Sons gloating about which friend of hers they had eaten wouldn’t do much but cement the fact that they were rotten to the core, infected with both disease and whatever long-harboured spite had been brewing away inside them from their time as corpses.

She really should have been grateful that they hadn’t made a meal out of her yet. The fact that they were choosing conversation over tearing her throat out was something not to be taken lightly.

“At this point, boys, I don’t care. Kill, eat, pillage, destroy… I…”

Valeria couldn’t even bring herself to say it. ‘El Sin Nombre’ had given her an illusion of control and now, she had found she, in fact, had only been playing pretend. Those men were always so good at reminding her of who she was. They were an annoying constant which bridged the gap between her old and new life. Valeria loved power, until now, because now she had realised she had never even had a true taste of it. Valeria had been merely toying with the idea.

Real power was holed up in the heart of the Foundation, wearing a white coat and ticking boxes on a checklist.

Real power was also lording over her, dangling these men, these puppets, over her head, as if to say, “You’re still mine.”

It was always wise to recognise when you only have one choice, and Valeria could see it now. She had to do what she was told. The woman just hoped that there was someone else further down the line who could minimise the damage that would ensue from making this decision.

“I’ll do it. I’ll lure them out and infect the target. Give me all the information I need.”

Her voice had no emotion. That passionate, brazen cartel queen was gone. All that was left was someone tired. Someone who just wanted this to be over and done with. Like that, the woman was back to square one. Broken and afraid, with nowhere to go but to the Mexican military, with the hopes that maybe she could make a living putting some of her skills to good use.

“Muy bien.” Graves smiled.

“On the condition,” Valeria added, “you leave me be… for good.”

“You know we can’t promise that.” 7629 spoke up.

It was worth a try, Valeria supposed.

Graves turned around to address the men, “I’ll give Valeria, here, the intel she needs to complete the job. I’ll inform both you and her of what the agreed signal will be to notify success. Once we receive that signal, we’ll plan for the extraction. Understood, boys?”

“Yup!”

Phillip nodded and returned to Valeria.

“Your target is…”

Oh God…

She braced herself.

“... Simon Riley.”

Huh?

“Who?” the woman asked, brows furrowing.

Graves smiled, fangs glinting in the dim light of the central campfire.

“You may know him as ‘Ghost’.”

Her stomach dropped.

“This is some reunion! Don’t you agree?” Phillip chuckled, picking up his bowl and taking his leave, “I’ll tell you all you need in ten, Valeria.”

She cast her gaze to the ground, staring daggers into the soil, too afraid to direct them at Graves’ back; lest he sensed her look of indignation and did something about it.

“We’re not too different, you and I, Commander Graves.”

He halted, a little unnerved by her robotic, yet somewhat condescending, tone.

Turning around, Phillip looked at Valeria with a concealed face of slight confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re both trapped- slaves to the Foundation. You’ll never be rid of them, you know. This is only just the beginning.”

She slowly moved to meet his face, head resting against the tree bark, her body not bothered enough to correct her slumped posture.

“Uniforms were always limitations for you and now look where you are, what you are.”

“I’ll cope,” he replied, through clenched teeth.

“You’re already struggling.”

She was just trying to stir him up, to try and get one over him. He wasn’t going to give in and entertain her, though. Valeria would just have to remain bound to a tree until they’d have need of her for their plan.

“By blood, we are bound,” the woman chuckled wryly, “You’ll be a soldier forever now, Graves.”

“Well, not forever,” he spoke patronisingly, setting down in front of her again, “One day, I’ll die and then I’ll be a soldier no more.”

“That’s if the Foundation is merciful.”

Cold ran through him. Graves growled a string of obscenities under his breath and got back up, shaking his head. Valeria followed him with her eyes, watching him finish his meal and press down on his mask. Once again, he was back to being a faceless monster, any remnants of his humanity being locked away under that awful, awful mask.

***

You were pacing back and forth in the small supply closet you had managed to find. You should’ve waited with Soap, not been a coward. However, you also knew that you’d probably end up sitting there for five minutes, jigging your leg up and down, before becoming too restless and running away anyways. There was really only one option here.

Sighing, you stopped your pacing and leaned against a wall, before sinking down and landing on your bum. You drew your knees to your chest, hugging them as you contemplated just how much trouble you were in with Laswell.

Could you even quantify it?

A little whimper escaped your lips.

How on Earth were you a lamia? You were the most spineless coward you knew!

Perhaps that was why everyone else had died that night except for you.

Oh God…

How could people in the army voluntarily do this?!

Which then begged the question of why you had decided to take up that challenge to go against Ghost.

‘Ego’ was most likely the answer.

You wanted to impress, to fit in, to befriend them, maybe start a few inside jokes. You thought that’s what army men liked doing: beating each other up and then cracking jokes about it.

The problem was that you were no army man, and you didn’t really find entertainment in beating your mates up. You didn’t really like violence altogether.

You wanted to be a normal person, have a normal job, you know? Take trains, type on computers, drink expensive drinks from… what was that place called that people spoke about… ‘Barstucks’?

Laswell could sense it in you from the moment you arrived: a monster trying to become human. You thought, maybe because she had experience in that department, she could teach you a few things.

Now, you had your doubts. Maybe she hadn’t had that experience. After all, she was in the military, using the same skills, just for different bosses. Laswell was still a lamia, just not the Foundation’s.

Other free women you had heard about had either gone into crime or… well, didn’t last very long.

Maybe you couldn’t be a normal human.

You buried your face into your knees.

Laswell had been running all over the place to find you. She had asked Gaz, gone back to see if you had returned to Soap, grabbed Price by the shoulders and shaken him, raving on about how you were… well, the best she could put was ‘fragile’.

She supposed the one good thing to come out of this was that in the hour she had spent hunting around, building up a small party consisting of Gaz, Rudy, Price and Alejandro, Ghost had managed to recover somewhat.

Soap was so happy when he saw Ghost come out of the medical room, a little sore but mostly alright. He had practically leapt out of his seat, fussing over the man the moment he had made his exit.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Soap rejoiced, feeling relieved upon seeing Ghost look like his usual, albeit slightly mysterious, self.

“Relax, Johnny, it’s not like I was going to die.” Ghost sighed, rolling his shoulders, his body still waking up.

“I was more worried for yer future kids!” The Scotsman elbowed Ghost playfully.

“For a second I was too but the doc said I was fine. Apparently, I was just ‘shocked’.”

“Shocked?!” Soap couldn’t believe it, “Are you telling me that Y/N actually managed to gain the element of surprise over you?”

Ghost shrugged.

“No way! Someone actually did it! Someone out-Ghosted you!”

Soap couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“I’m glad you’re having fun at my expense.”

“Come on! It’s a bit funny. That tiny, little-”

“Okay, Y/N isn’t that small.”

“Well, compared to you, anyways. That little minx! They absolutely out-Ghosted you!”

Ghost sighed… and then realised something. Y/N definitely packed quite a punch. Quite a big punch. Almost too big of a punch, for someone of their size.

“Speaking of Y/N,” he looked over to Soap, before continuing in a hushed voice, “Don’t you think they were a bit too strong?”

Soap cast his mind back to the fight. Yeah. Now that he thought about it, there was a moment that he could only describe as… odd. You had thrown Ghost over your shoulder like he was nothing but a sack of potatoes. Pairing that with the rather strong handshake you had introduced yourself with to MacTavish… hmm… He stroked his chin. Strange.

“Aye. I mean, Y/N had, uh, quite a firm handshake too.”

“What do you mean?” Ghost asked, raising an eyebrow under his mask.

“When I shook hands with them, yesterday, I… They held onto me quite, you know, strongly. Felt like they were going to take my arm with them!”

“Something’s off about them.”

“Sure! But Laswell did say they were weirdly socialised from a young age or something.”

“Having an odd upbringing doesn’t make you freakishly strong, Soap.” Ghost shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Oh, and how would you know that, Simon?”

He remained quiet, looking at Soap knowingly, before quickening his pace.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” MacTavish asked.

He chased after Ghost, breaking into a light jog.

“Oi! Simon! What do yer mean by that?!”

Suddenly, Ghost stopped in his tracks.

“Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Ghost gestured for the man to press his ear against the door of the supply closet. Soap did so, after picking away at some of the peeling paint. He did a few seconds’ worth of listening before looking back at his friend.

“Is someone in there?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Who hangs around in a broom cupboard?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

Gently, Ghost opened the door, light spilling into the darkness. He looked this way and that, sticking his head into the closet.

You held your breath, shrinking into the shadows, hoping they’d lose interest soon.

“I don’t see anyone, Ghost.”

He hummed in reply, though it wasn’t in agreement.

“Hello?”

“Lt, with all due respect, I think you’re talking into a void right now.”

“Shh!” Ghost snapped back.

Soap rolled his eyes, before catching sight of a vending machine sitting by the doorway to the canteen.

“While you’re poking through broom cupboards, I’m gonna go grab a snack. Want anything?”

Ghost didn’t reply, instead taking a step into the closet.

MacTavish shrugged, letting Ghost continue his investigation whilst he went to get himself a cereal bar or something. He thought he needed one after the day he’d had. Ghost would probably want one too, though Soap knew the man would begrudgingly take it from him… as he always did. Ghost seldom liked to rely on others, and it was a recent breakthrough for MacTavish to get him to even take offered food.

Soap wandered off to pursue some sugary delights as Ghost fully immersed himself in the darkness of the supply closet.

Someone was here, he knew it. The lieutenant had developed a sense for these types of situations, it was like he could sniff a person out. Anyways, he peered around, lifting miscellaneous bits and pieces off the ground, seeing if anyone lay under them.

You shrunk away even further, hoping he’d drop it and leave, wanting to be alone.

Unfortunately, Ghost found you. He removed the bundle of brooms and mops which had sheltered your sulking body.

“Y/N?”

You looked up at him before your eyes fell to the ground.

“Go away.” You mumbled.

“Wow. You kick me in the balls and now you’re telling me to ‘go away’. Awfully kind of you,” he chuckled, taking a seat beside you, wincing a little as he landed on a sore spot.

You shuffled away from him, withdrawing further and further into your cocoon of sadness. You reminded Ghost of a kicked puppy, which was kind of ironic seeing as you were the one who had done the kicking, but anyways, he wasn’t oblivious, he could tell you weren’t happy.

“Usually when I see someone realising they’ve fucked up, it makes me feel quite good,” Ghost remarked, “but for some reason, Y/N, you’re really bringing my mood down looking like this.”

You grumbled something, but he couldn’t make out what it was, your knees muffling your voice.

“How long have you been sulking in this broom cupboard?”

Again, you mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“I’m not sulking,” you growled.

“It looks like you’re sulking.”

Finally, you released yourself from your prison and stretched your legs out, sighing.

“I… I just feel bad, Ghost. I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t.”

You turned to face him, a little surprised.

“You looked scared,” he admitted, staring ahead, “I wasn’t going to hurt you. You know that, right?”

“I look scared?”

“Yeah. When I was coming to help you up. you looked at me, but I…” He scratched the back of his head, trying to find the words. “I don’t think you saw me.”

Being in this profession long enough, Ghost knew the signs of trauma when he saw them. Sure, he wasn’t exactly the leader of this motley crew, that title belonged to Price, but he was still a lieutenant. He still had to take care of people in some form, and while you weren’t really part of anyone’s group, that caring instinct took hold of him.

You sat there in silence, face twisting a little as you digested his sentence. Ghost turned to look at you, leaning in a little but being measured about it, hoping to not frighten you off.

“Are you okay, Y/N? I’m not usually good with this, but do you need to talk to someone?”

Your lip wibbled, tears forming in your eyes. You didn’t know what was happening, but this surge of emotion overcame you. Body trembling, shoulders tensing, you felt it coming up your throat.

You cried.

You cried and cried and cried.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and into your hands as you brought them to your face. As you clutched your head, fingers threatening to dig into your eyes, Ghost just sat there, unsure of what to do.

He had expected that you would start howling like a banshee, but it never came to that. Instead, muffled sobs and sniffles filled the silence of the supply closet.

As you trembled, you felt a light touch on your shoulder and back. Then, a force pulled you until you hit something fairly solid.

Instinctually, you nestled into his warmth, still crying. Ghost stared off into the distance, letting you have this moment, unjudged, to just let it all out.

Laswell had said you had been through a lot, and now, he was certain of it.

Several footsteps sounded outside, suggesting the presence of a group of people hurrying along the corridor. The murmur of voices came along with it, growing louder as the party drew nearer.

“Okay, this is the last place we haven’t checked.” Ghost recognised Price’s gravelly voice.

“I’ll have a look inside, you lot keep an eye out for them around here,” Kate replied.

She came in, only to see you resting against Ghost, eyes squeezed shut as you continued to cry.

Laswell made to approach, but Ghost raised his hand.

“Give them a moment. I’ll let Y/N know you wanted to see them.” He whispered.

She let out a sigh.

“If you start feeling weird, leave them and eat raisins.”

Before Ghost could ask one of the many questions floating around his head after that bizarre statement, Kate left.

Go eat raisins?

The way she had said it almost sounded like medical advice. What did Kate mean by that?

His eyes narrowed a little, but he wasn't going to pay too much attention to it. He supposed if it came to it, he’d just do as she said and ask his questions later. Ghost was pretty sure he wouldn’t start ‘feeling strange’.

However, gradually, Ghost began to notice an unfamiliar sensation overcome him: profound sadness. The feeling sort of made itself home at the back of his mind, being just about ignorable, but he found it curious. This probably sounded nuts saying it aloud, but Ghost felt as though this emotion didn’t belong to him.

He looked at you. You had stopped crying now and had resorted to staring off into space, your tear-stained face haloed by the light pooling in from the open door. You had entered the numbness stage, not really feeling anything. Although, you did know things were still intense, bubbling just under the surface, because you could sense it had transferred to Ghost, like a faint, developing stain on his mind.

It was probably best to conclude this ‘exchange’ and go your separate ways.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping away some of your tears from his shirt with your sleeve, “Your top is probably really gross now.”

He let out a small chuckle as he watched you do your best to neaten yourself up, moving your hair aside and wiping away any signs of sadness on your face.

As you made to get up, you felt him gently stop you.

A lump in your throat formed as you locked eyes with him.

Ghost wanted to ask who you were, what you were, knowing full well you had had some effect on him… However, there was a time and place for those questions, and he understood that you probably wouldn’t like being interrogated. And so, he let you leave.

“Go eat raisins, they’ll, uh, help,” you blurted out before spinning on your heel and scampering off.

Raisins, again. Ghost’s brows knitted together under his mask. He decided he would take that advice… just in case.

Finally, you had space to breathe… well, you thought you did. Your hopes were quickly quashed as you halted at the sight of Laswell, standing a few feet ahead of you, down the corridor, arms folded, unimpressed.

You gulped.

She ushered you into the bathroom and closed the door. Then, she took a deep breath, before returning to face you.

“Y/N… I…” she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, “Look, if you want to blend into normal society, you gotta-”

“I’m leaving,” you cut her off, “I don’t think I’m any good here.”

Laswell was shocked.

“Y/N, no. You can’t. I still haven’t sorted out-”

“It’s fine. Just put it on my lexicon.”

“I don’t have a lexicon to transfer the information to yours.”

“What?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This is my point. People out there don’t have lexicons. The guys here aren’t anything like the Arcadian Sons back at the Foundation. They’re not as strong. They can’t change. None of it. You’re not weak here.”

Laswell made to approach you and felt her heart sink a little as she watched you back up.

“Y/N, I can help you find a way to keep the Foundation off your tail but once you’re out there, you need to understand that you are not weak. We lamias are insanely potent, and that potency can seriously hurt people. You have to promise me that you’ll be careful. Being human isn’t easy.”

“Laswell, I wasn’t going to hurt him!” you shook your head, voice shaking a little as you laughed, nervously, “I know that these guys and the people out there are not the same as those in the Foundation. I’m not stupid!”

“I just need you to be careful. I have seriously hurt people and I don’t want you to make the same mistake.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t?”

“Yes, I-”

“Shh!”

Laswell’s demeanour suddenly changed. She looked about, alert, pupils dilated.

“Someone’s eavesdropping.”

You tried to suss out who it was too, looking about just as Kate was.

“Who?” you asked.

Soap stood on the other side of the door, plastered against the wall, covering his mouth.

“Mactavish,” Laswell whispered under her breath.

Soap shuddered.

He looked down and saw the handle on the door begin to turn. Almost immediately, he took off.

The door swung open, and Kate peered out to an empty corridor. She hoped Soap hadn’t heard too much, sighing resignedly.

“Y/N,” she kept composed, continuing the conversation, “don’t overthink this. Just be aware of your strengths. The world’s not made of glass, but it easily can be if you’re not careful. I’m still working on contacting someone who can get your records deleted and make you officially not Red Room property, but it’s gonna take some time. Stay here in the meantime and keep calm, I don’t need you turning my boys into messes.”

“I’ll do my best. And I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Learn your lesson and stick to where I can keep an eye on you.”

You nodded, your mind wandering back to Ghost.

Laswell picked up on it.

“Ghost’s a good one. But don’t crowd him, he likes being mysterious and aloof.”

She chuckled as she watched you flounder, trying to excuse your sudden interest.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Kate. I’ll try.”

***

Ghost, for some odd reason, had volunteered to be on night watch again. Everyone was surprised and seriously discouraged him, especially after his little accident with you. However, all pleas for him to just go to bed fell on deaf ears. He was stubborn as a mule and adamant to be on lookout for the night.

Soap had initially joined the discouragement but soon was elated to have his mate with him. They both trekked the halls, looking around for any signs worthy of suspicion.

It had been a pretty quiet night, with little to nothing happening.

That was until the howling started.

Soap had gone from reclining in his chair on the ‘front porch’ of the base to sitting bolt upright, gun at the ready. Ghost gestured for him to lower his weapon.

“What was that?” Soap whispered.

Ghost shrugged, throwing a raisin up in the air, only to miss it as he tried to catch it with his mouth.

“Coyotes or something.”

“Nah!” Soap shook his head. “That’s too deep to belong to a coyote. It almost sounds like a person!”

“Coyotes sometimes sound like that,” Ghost remarked, stretching his legs out, “Remember when we were interrogating Hassan? Those coyotes sounded like a bunch of wailing women.”

“Freaky stuff.”

He watched Soap swallow hard, reclining back into his seat, albeit reluctantly.

“Awooo…” Ghost let out, with a snicker.

“Simon, that’s not funny.”

“Awooo! A-A-Awoooo!” The lieutenant howled into the night.

“Simon, shut up!”

Soap struck at him, lightly, only to then whip his head around at the sound.

“AWOOOOOO!” the forest replied.

Soap felt chills run up and down his spine. Ghost watched his face grow pale.

“Come on, Johnny, let’s go inside if you’re that spooked.”

He got up from the dinky chair and gestured for Soap to follow and he did so, not taking his eyes off the trees, deeply unnerved by the sounds of the night.

As they walked down the corridors, Soap stopped by your bag. He shined his torch at it, curiosity spurring him on to investigate.

“Those are Y/N’s things,” Ghost spoke with a stern voice, “Leave ‘em.”

“You know,” Soap mumbled as he squatted down before the open duffel bag, something shining between the lips of the open zip, “I think Y/N might be something supernatural, and so is Laswell.”

“Laswell?” Ghost raised an eyebrow under his balaclava.

“Aye. I think they’re both the same… thing?”

“Johnny, I don’t think we should be looking through Y/N’s shit. Let’s keep moving-”

CRASH!

“Soap!” Ghost snapped.

MacTavish’s eyes widened as he investigated the spilt contents of your bag, lightly holding a sleeve of your hepta-plate armour.

“What is this stuff?”

Now, Ghost was curious. He knelt down beside Soap, peering at it.

“It’s… shiny.”

He ran his finger over the scale-like texture of your chest piece, only to then reach the centre. There was a larger chunk at the heart of the armour and, wanting to see if it was a button or something, he gently gave it two taps.

They both gasped as they watched the entire raiment vanish from existence, only to then fizzle back like a glitching television screen.

“Oh my God,” was all Soap could say.

Ghost was stunned into silence, feeling the foreign fabric between his thumb and index finger.

“Who is Y/N?” he muttered, examining how the scales of your armour reflected the torchlight, iridescent, like the shell of a beetle.

As Ghost was about to activate the shroud mechanism again, someone from behind spoke up.

“What are you two doing?”

They both stood up and turned around, hearts kicking up a notch as they realised it was you.

You had your arms folded over your chest, your foot tapping on the floor as you eagerly awaited their excuses for going through your things.

“Y/N!” Soap remarked, “Uh…”

Ghost knew the Scotsman was going to start digging a hole for the two of them, hence why he elbowed him. Soap promptly shut up.

“I see you’re having another late-night stroll.” Ghost gestured at your… uh… clearly-being-up-ness.

#AND THE PLOT THICKENS #bloodhound fic #cod mwii fic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #phillip graves cod fic #valeria garza cod #john soap mactavish #kate laswell #cod mw2 werewolf au

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