#John price definitely bird watches

[mintfullyyours]

"no one can hear you scream" prank

I'm sure this has been done but have y'all see that prank "no one can hear you scream"? this is how I imagine it would go lol

They all would react so different but tell me why Simon would be low-key into it?

thank you all for indulging with me <3

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John Price

"And that, love, is a Redwing," John points upwards, bringing his binoculars to his eyes. "Beautiful, innit? Migrates here from Scandinavia and Iceland."

"Beautiful indeed," you hum in agreement. You step ahead of John, hands tucked into your pockets as you glance back at him with a mischievous smirk, "I bet no one can hear you scream."

John squints at you, lowering his binoculars slowly. His hand instinctively drops to the waistband of his jeans, where his handcuffs are nestled. Unease crept up his chest, "What was that?"

You spin around with a teasing glint in your eye. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding."

John huffs, shaking his head as he closes the distance between you. "Uh-huh," he drawls, reaching out to grab your wrist before you can dart away. You yelp, laughing as he easily pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you in a firm but playful hold. "Think you're funny, don't you?" he murmurs against your hair.

"A little," you admit, grinning up at him.

He exhales dramatically, "You’re lucky I love you."

You poke his chest. "And you're lucky I didn't mean it."

John lets out a chuckle, pressing a warm kiss to your temple before nudging you forward. "Come on, dove. Before I have to put those handcuffs to use." The way he smirks at you sends a shiver down your spine—not from the cold, but from the entirely new kind of trouble you might’ve just walked into.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Finally." You huff out, interlacing your fingers with Simon, you drag him deeper into the woods. "Now that we're alone, no one can hear you scream."

You giggle, thinking this is how you'll really leave him speechless. Without skipping a beat, Simon smirks. "I won't scream."

"Huh?"

Before you can process his words, he grabs a fistful of your shirt and pushes you back against a tree. The rough bark presses into your spine, and your heart races. This wasn’t how your silly little trend was supposed to go.

But this was your boyfriend & he is lethal.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "You forget who you're playin’ with, love," he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. His fingers tighten around the fabric at your waist, his body pressing just close enough to make you shiver. "If anything, you'll be the one screaming."

Your breath catches, and he chuckles—low, knowing.

"You alright" he teases, tilting his head. "What happened to all that courage, hm?"

You clear your throat, willing yourself to sound unfazed. "I—uh—"

Simon hums, running his fingers along your side before pulling away with an infuriating smirk. "Thought so." He steps back, offering you his hand. "Now, are we finishing this walk, or do I need to carry you out of here?"

You narrow your eyes, smoothing down your shirt as you take his hand. "You're the wooorst."

He presses a quick, teasing kiss to your forehead. "And you love it."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny leapt over a small stream and held his hand out for you to take. "Actually, birdie, next time we can go to Inverness. Beautiful trail out there." You groaned playfully, already counting down the hours until you’d be back in civilization.

"'M thinking we get pizza for dinner after this," Johnny huffed, stepping over a rock. Your stomach grumbled at the sound of that, "Make that two."

"Pizza’s good," you agreed, teasing. "Just like how it's good for us to be out here… because no one would hear you scream."

Johnny halted mid-step, "What was that?"

You blinked innocently, "I said I wanted ice cream... when we get back?" You tilted your head. "What’dya think I said?"

His eyes narrowed, lips twitching upward. In a blink, he closed the distance, scooping you up in one swift motion. You yelped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he spun you effortlessly.

"Johnny!" You shrieked, laughing.

"Oh no, lass," he smirked, voice dropping to something low and playful, "if you’re gonna make threats, ye best be ready for the consequences."

Still holding you against him, he leaned in, his breath ghosting against your lips. "No one would hear you scream, either."

Heat bloomed in your chest, your breath hitching—but before you could react, he kissed the tip of your nose and dropped you back onto your feet with a smug grin.

"Now," he clapped his hands, "pizza first, then ice cream, and maybe… if you’re real sweet to me, I’ll let you make all the threats you want—in private."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You shut the car door and take a deep breath of the crisp forest air. Marveling at the dense trees ahead of you, you take a step forward and sigh, "No one would hear you scream."

"What?" Kyle asked, arching a brow. His hand still rested on the car door, as if ready to bolt.

"Nothinggg." You say in a singsong voice, suppressing a grin.

"Oh, absolutely not." Kyle wrenches the car door back open and hops right back inside.

You giggle, walking back to the car to find the door locked when you try to open it. "Kyle, I was just kidding."

"Yeah? I've watched enough True Crime while you've dozed off to know you might not actually be kidding."

"Let me in, Garrick," you roll your eyes, tugging at the handle again.

"No way, love," he says, smirking through the window.

You cross your arms and tilt your head. "If you don't let me in, I will find another way to make you scream." His smirk falters just a little. "That a threat?"

You lean in, lowering your voice. "A promise."

Kyle hesitates for a beat, then the locks click open. The second you slide into the passenger seat, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his space—close enough for you to feel his breath fan against your lips.

"You know," he murmurs, his fingers grazing along your arm, "for someone who jokes about murder, you’re an awful tease."

You smirk. "And yet, you keep letting me in."

Kyle exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Now tell me—what was that about making me scream?"

You hum, trailing your fingers along his jaw. "Guess you'll just have to find out later, Sergeant."

His eyes darken just enough to send a thrill through you.

"Yeah," he mutters, starting the engine with a grin. "We're definitely getting a cabin next time."

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@ebodebo @meheheasasa

[drgnflyteabox]

a little continuation of this. john price x cashier fem!reader. verbal abuse, anxiety, yelling, hurt/comfort, price comes to your retail rescue<3<3 1.4k words

The only good part of a 5am wakeup is watching the sunrise slowly climb the sky.

There’s a quiet sort of tiredness that lets you appreciate it more — and though the lot associates have made a joke about the morning crew and their sunrise photos, there’s an element of truth there that’s both funny and a little beautiful.

It’s a drag to wait outside the doors for a manager to open them, trying not to make eye contact with the early-bird oldies and the impatient contractors who think they should just be allowed in before everyone else based on the amount of money they spend.

When the doors open and the 6am hardware warriors stroll in, ready and chipper, you’re half asleep leaning against your counter.

Another good thing about the early shift is the lack of uptight managers. None of them want to wake up before ten, so you’re safe to lean and lounge while waiting for customers.

A call comes through your earpiece after a few customers, nearing the cusp of 8am.

”Hey, we’ve got the guy coming your way,” your head cash – Lisa – says, voice crackling in the mic. The guy is a rude jerkoff, some contractor who thinks abusing staff is the way to get good service and better prices.

What’s worse is that your managers allow it. In fact, you get warnings like this all the time. The guy is here, the guy has a big order, make sure to cash him out fast or he’ll start shouting. Be pleasant. Smile.

The guy is walking down the store lumber aisle with a pinched expression on his face and two other employees dragging his stacked carts behind him.

You try to ignore his caustic vibes, thinking instead of the pink, purplish sunrise you’d seen earlier. Clouds like magic, cotton candy, floating above you 

You ignore the incessant tapping of his feet, the annoyed groan he makes when you lift a package of insulation up and find flat saw blades.

Sure, you can’t accuse him of stealing. But you can make a cheery, passive aggressive comment–

“Oops, I guess you forgot these!” you chirp, scanning them a little slower than necessary. It’s not mature, but it does make you feel a little better. Nice try, bozo.

Playing the idiot cashier helps with these types. Why are you mad, sir? I’m just a cashier? And though you could answer more questions than you do, you don’t. Playing the ditz makes life easy.

Lisa’s definitely judged you for it, but hey. She’s not stuck at the register like you are.

Sometimes, it works. You get a scowl, but they’ll go quiet. Sometimes.

Today, it backfires.

“Excuse me?” 

Oh here we go, you think. It’s way too early for this.

“What was that, sir?” you play dumb, voice squeaking.

“Are you accusing me of stealing?” his volume raises. You see redness crawling up his neck. Fuck.

“No, no, I only meant–” you try to backtrack. Fuck, fuck. This is the result of your hubris. Your reasoning flies out through the massive lumber area doors as his rage climbs.

“No? No? Because I think you just accused me of stealing. Do you understand how much I spend here, you moron?”

“I do, I didn’t mean to imply–”

“Get me a fucking manager, now,” he snaps. God, you have no clue if he acts like this to get his way, to get discounts, or if he’s really this angry half the time he comes in.

Regardless, the effect is real. You’ve never been good with anger, and you’re shaking a little as you press the call button on your pager.

“C-Can I please have a manager down to lumber cash?” you broadcast to the store.

All you can think of is looking away from his angry gaze while you wait. Oh, a bubble bath – you have an aloe and green tea bubble bath packet at home waiting for you.

Hot water. Bubble bath. Manager to fix this mess. Maybe a hot chocolate after work?

A couple minutes pass. Longest minutes of your life.

No answer. The guy taps his foot, sighing loudly, angrily. You try again.

“Can I please have a manager down to lumber cash?”

Oh fuck, is that someone else in line? You turn away bodily, speaking again into your mic. Trying to look like you’re doing something about the wait.

Another couple minutes. Despair washes over you like a cold blanket of snow.

“Need a manager at lumber cash,” you try.

Typical, really. Lisa is likely on break, and you have no idea who’s managing the store at the moment.

You imagine it’s likely Cody, who’s good with contractors like this because he's personable but he’s also lazy it almost cancels out. Also, he takes a smoke break every 5 minutes.

And never takes his pager.

“What the fuck is taking so long?” you hear behind you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, turning. “My manager is busy at the moment but–”

“Busy?” his voice is like a gunshot in the airy space, an absurd volume for the time.

“Yes–”

“Do you know–”

A third voice cuts in.

“Think you better learn a little patience, mate,” British?

Oh, shit. It’s that guy from before. He’s got one hip a little cocked, a frown on his face like he’s smelled something bad. His boonie hat is titled down, nearly covering his eyes. You can see them because you’re shorter than he is.

“Excuse me? And who are you? Mind your business,” the guy says.

“I think you’d better let the nice girl check me out while you wait,” he motions for you towards the parallel cash desk, and you’re grateful to just follow.

You scurry away from the guy faster than is appropriate, calling out again as you cross the open space towards the other cash desk for a manager.

You can only hope they arrive while you’re helping this one. John Price, you think his name was. He's a memorable man. Him and his moustache and his expensive company.

John Price has left the guy flabbergasted. He also has twice as many carts as him, and when your eyes widen to see them he just says take your time in a smooth, deep voice.

Oh man.

You do take your time, already calmer for John’s presence. Strange maybe to feel safe in the company of a stranger, a contractor no less, but it’s a nice change of pace.

Beep, beep. You scan methodically. John has no hidden items, and he doesn’t pressure you. He leans up against his lumber order and watches you check underneath things, under the cart, doing everything you’re trained to do.

“Start early?” he asks.

“Hm?” you lift your head. “Oh, yes. 6am.”

He whistles.

“Hard worker, I see,” he helps you lift a heavy bag of concrete.

“Thank you,” Marx look away, you think. Your face is only a little hot.

Cody strolls in the lumber doors missing his apron and – you guessed it – his pager. You fix him with a look as he smiles in greeting.

“Need a manager when you’re free,” you rush. Cody is nice, but you’re kinda miffed now.

“Oh, sure,” he says, walking by you toward the breakroom.

John Price raises a brow.

“Not everyone’s up to the task, eh?”

You feel hot again.

“It’s just early.”

John smiles. He looks remarkably silly doing it, you think. His facial hair makes him look approachable, cuddly. Like a teddy bear.

John’s order totals double the guy, which isn’t really a victory for you but it feels like one. Ha! See, you aren’t the richest guy here. You feel vindicated. Cody looks miserable cashing him out, which makes you just a little guilty.

“Will that be cash or card?” you ask, finger hovering on the POS.

He pays with card. You certainly do not notice how he cradles the machine. You aren’t that down bad.

Only you are, and his fingers are huge. His knuckles are hairy.

When you go to hand him the receipts, printed twice for record keeping, he manages to slip a 50 into your hand before you notice.

“Oh, no! I’m not allowed to–”

He folds those big bear paws over your hand, enclosing the cash in it with a sh sh sh as you protest.

“For the trouble,” he winks.

“You didn’t give me any trouble,” you try. The warmth of his palm, the roughness of his calluses. You’re a goner.

He chuckles, and you wonder how he can be both so intense and so disarming.

“You know what I mean, sweetheart,” he squeezes your hand, pushing it gently back towards you until you can put it in your apron pocket.

“Thank you,” you squeeze out.

“Don’t let him get to you,” he says.

“I’ll try,” you thank God or the universe or whoever that Cody and the guy finished a while ago.

“Attagirl.”

Yeah, you’re a goner.

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

If you enjoy this, you can buy me a Ko-fi :) Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

The sounds around him were different from what he was used to—no gunfire or heavy footsteps, no shoutings from Price about night ambushes, no Johnny’s loud snoring. Simon peered through heavy eyelids, finding out it’s just the bloody annoying birds chirping outside. Groaning, he turned his aching body and reached his arms out.

Only to find the other side of the bed empty of his wife’s presence. Simon furrowed his brows, frowning. God, he’s such a grumpy old bastard, isn’t he?

Simon jerked upright, alerted by the clattering sound coming from outside the bedroom—the old dog instincts in him kicked in, only to be quickly quelled by his more recently acquired instincts shaped by the realities of the last seven years. He got up from the bed, trying not to be too agitated, making his way to investigate.

Upon entering the kitchen, his shoulders sagged with relief as he laid his eyes on the sole culprit—crouching on the floor, attempting to tidy up a mess of spilled milk and cereal with a torn kitchen towel. No doubt the source of the noise.

Walking over slowly so as not to scare her, he then asked, “What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?”

Gianna whipped around in a flash like a criminal caught in the act, her big brown eyes gleaming with a touch of guilt but not a trace of fear. "I dropped my cereal," she confessed succinctly, mirroring a trait she had unquestionably inherited from her father.

He crouched down next to her. “’Ere, let me help you with that,” then reached out, taking the paper towel from her tiny hands and started cleaning up.

Gianna just watched him until she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“’S alright, darlin’. Accidents ‘appen.” Simon stated, rising to his feet and tossing the used tissues into the trash can. He then turned his attention back to his daughter. “But you could’ve woke me up. I’d ‘ave helped you clean it up straight away.”

“I know, but you were sleeping. An’ mum says you sleep like a… like a… clog?”

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I think you mean a log, love.” He corrected.

“Oh right!” The little girl exclaims, nodding her head. “Tha’s the word. You sleep like a log.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever yer mum says.” He glanced at the box of cereal still sitting on the kitchen counter, then decided to keep himself and his daughter away from it. “So cereal is no option then. What d’you want for breakfast instead?”

Without missing a beat, Gianna chirps, “Ice cream!”

Simon snorts, shaking his head. “Can’t ‘ave ice cream for breakfast, darlin’.”

Gianna tilts her head to the side, eyes looking up at him questioningly. "Why not?" she asked. “Mummy 'as coffee for breakfast, alllll the time!” she spreads her arms out for dramatic effect—he chuckles at that. Definitely got it from mommy.

“Yeah, don’t be like yer mum, alright?”

The girl frowns slightly. “But why not? Mummy’s pretty, an’ she cooks good food.”

Something he couldn’t disagree with. He nodded, reaching out to ruffle her blonde hair. “That she does, darlin’. But we still don’t want you havin’ coffee or ice cream for breakfast, alright?”

"Okay, then can we go to Uncle John's house?" she asked.

“An’ why’s that?”

Gianna bounced on her toes, her arms swinging. “I miss Buddy an’ Daisy!”

Simon groaned inwardly. Should’ve known she’d bring that up. Ever since that one time he brought her to Price’s place and she met his dogs, Gianna has been begging to go back. Every time after school—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” Every weekend—“Can we go to Uncle John’s house?” And the thing is, the bloody mutts aren’t even there anymore, not since Price and his missus divorced.

“The dogs ain't there anymore, love.” He watched her face fall.

"Why not?" she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

Simon shrugged. “Cause,” he trailed off, not really wanting to explain the whole messy divorce situation to a five-year-old. “Nevermind that. What d’you want for breakfast?”

Instead of answering, Gianna crossed her arms while frowning. “I don’t want breakfast. I want Buddy an’ Daisy!

A sigh escaped Simon as the results of his parenting bit him in the ass. Bloody hell, he had to stop surrendering to her big eyes and pouting lips—just like her mum. She had learned from the best, hadn’t she? Got him wrapped around her tiny finger. There was only one trick up his sleeve to get her to cooperate.

“If you don’t eat breakfast, then then we won’t be able to go an’ watch yer mum later.”

And sure enough, Gianna’s whole expression lit up, renewed. She gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth in an exaggerated gesture. Seems like he got himself a drama queen.

“We’re gonna watch Mum?!” she asked, full of hope.

Simon nodded, trying to maintain a serious expression but always failing because of her antics. “As long as you behave an’ eat breakfast.”

The five-year-old was cheering, jumping, and doing her little dances in unbridled energy—just like her mum. He guessed it was true what Garrick said that day the lads visited the two of you at the hospital after Gianna was born—“She’s a perfect blend of the both of you.”

“Pancakes! I want pancakes!” Gianna squeals, scampering to the cabinet where the flour is stored. “Come on, Daddy! Let's eat breakfast so we can go an' watch Mummy!"

When the evening draws near, Gianna is already in the bathroom. Lately, she's been insisting on bathing herself, saying she's a “big girl” now. But he guessed it's more because she wants to play with her Barbie doll in the water, using up all the soap in the process.

“Don't take too long, alright? We've gotta be out the door by five.” He says.

"Okay!" Gianna chirps back, not really listening to him, too busy splashing around and chatting to her plastic friend.

Keeping the door open to ensure her safety, Simon stepped out to attend to his own tasks. Seems like it was yesterday when she was just a little baby, lying in the bath support, her tiny legs kicking every time you would rinse the soap off her soft skin. Time indeed flies so fast; one moment, she is just a baby who struggles to stand on her wobbly legs, and the next, she insists on doing everything independently.

Simon let out a heavy sigh, turning to your shared bedroom to pull on a fresh button up. As he’s closing the dresser drawer, the sound of his phone ringing caught his attention. He read the caller ID before accepting it and lifting it to his ear.

“’Ello?”

“Hey, are you on your way yet?” Your familiar voice comes through the line.

Glancing over to the half-open bathroom door, where he could hear the faint sounds of Gianna splashing and talking to herself, he then said, “The kid's in the bath.”

“Okay, okay,” You said, he could hear some shifting on the other side. “Make sure you bring her coat—the brown one. It's so cold today, I don't want her to get—”

“I got it, love.” He cuts you off gently, assuring you easily. “Just focus on yer ballet. I'll make sure she's all bundled up, alright?”

A chuckle from you—one that brought a smile to his own lips. Always the overthinker, his wife. He walked over to grab Gianna's towel and placed it atop a small chair near the bathtub, then held up five fingers, communicating the remaining time she had left before she had to get out.

“I’m on a break right now,” you tell him, voice soft, whispering. “I… I miss you, and Gianna too.”

He can’t help the smile spreading at that. “That so?”

“Yes,” you admit, he imagines you clutching the phone tightly against your ear like he’s seen you do so often. “Being here, rehearsing for the show, you two are all I can think about. I want to get this over with and go home.”

“Think she misses you too,” he murmurs.

“Really?”

“Yeah, she's been jumpin’ about when I mentioned we're gonna watch you.”

“That’s nice,” he could hear the smile in your voice. Then, a small pause between you before you asked again, “Um, do you… Do you miss me too?”

A low, amused chuckle escaped him at your shy question, and he compares it to a schoolgirl trying to gauge her chances with her crush. This is your husband you are talking to. He couldn't help but find the conversation amusing—and yet, he couldn't deny the warmth that rose to color his cheeks.

“What you actin’ all shy an’ coy for, eh?” he teased, “We’ve been married for seven bloody years now, ain’t we? Course I miss you, sweetheart.”

Simon could hear you take a deep breath. “Well, I just… Well, you just got home from deployment, and we haven't really had time together before I got to do rehearsals, so I feel kind of…”

“Ah, I see,” Simon murmurs, voice dropping to a low, rumbling tone. He glanced to the bathroom to make sure Gianna was still out of earshot before continuing, “Feelin' a bit starved for attention, are we, love? Maybe we should call up Johnny, see if 'e can come 'n babysit the mite for a night. Give us a chance to… reconnect, eh?”

You suck in a sharp breath at his words, heat rising to your cheeks and somewhere else from his implication. For a moment, you are silent; another minute passes, and Simon almost thinks the call has been cut off until your soft, discreet whisper finally cuts through.

“… Do you think the phone company records calls like this?”

At that, he laughed. “Why? You plannin' on sayin' somethin' naughty?”

“No! No, not at all!” You stammered; he can almost feel your embarrassment through the phone. “I-I was just… curious, that's all.”

It was amusing. How easily he could make you all worked up and flustered, even after nearly ten years of being together—dating, marriage, and even a kid thrown in the mix. He heard you take another deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

“Don't forget the special pass, okay? They won't let you in the theater without it.” You reminded him.

“I’ll find another way in if I ‘ave to.”

“Simon, I'm serious,” you say, voice firm. “You can't just sneak in. They'll never let you—"

You pause for a moment; Simon assumes you're focused on whatever's going on in the background. He catches the sound of a voice calling your name, saying something about returning to the stage. Then, you sigh into the phone.

“I gotta go. Stage check,” you explain, almost apologetically. “But don't forget the coat and the pass, okay? I need you there, Simon. Both of you.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Love ya. See you soon.”

“I love you too.”

With that, Simon ended the call. He pivoted back to the bathroom; the gentle sound of splashing water reached his ears. “Alright, darlin’, time's up," he called out. "Let's get you dried off an' ready to go.”

“Okay!”

A short while later, the two Rileys found themselves inside Gianna's pistachio-colored room—the little girl still wrapped up in her towel like a burrito—both standing in front of the dresser. The sound of her damp feet tapping the floor filled the air as Simon swept his eyes over the colorful options in the closet.

“Alright, then,” he said, looking down at her. “What do you want to wear today?”

Gianna scrunches up her face in deep concentration, brows furrowed, lips pouting in consideration before finally pointing to a rather… mismatched combo of clothes. A bright pink tutu, a neon green t-shirt, and a pair of polka-dot stockings.

“That one!” she declared, looking up at him with a proud grin.

Wrinkles formed on his forehead as Simon gave a look of disapproval. "That?" He questions, tone laced with doubt. “You sure about that? I don't think that's gonna look very good.”

Gianna’s smile faltered, and Simon immediately felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Bloody hell. Clearing his throat, he quickly backtracked. “I mean, it’s a bit… unique, isn’t it?” he said, trying to sound more encouraging—as if he hadn't just said it would look ugly. “But if that’s what you wanna wear, then tha’s what we’ll do.”

“Yay!” she squeals, bouncing, clapping her hands as her lips stretch into a toothy grin.

Reaching into the dresser, he pulls out the bright pink tutu, the neon green t-shirt, and the polka-dot stockings and lays them on her bed.

“You can do it by yourself, right?”

Gianna nods eagerly. “Yep!” she chirps, already reaching for the shirt.

“Alright, then. Daddy’ll be waitin’ downstairs, a’ight?”

“Okay!”

With one last glance, he turns and heads out of her room, making his way downstairs to ensure he has all the important things. Wipes, tissues, a few snacks, and a spare set of clothes just in case. He shoved it all into the bag that you usually bring whenever you're out with Gianna.

Zipping the bag, he then reached into his jeans pocket to feel for his wallet. He takes it out, flicks it open, and verifies that the special pass is safely tucked inside. His gaze drifts to the brown coat you had specified, draped over the arms of the couch—another item checked off his mental list.

Glancing up at the grandfather clock, he lets out a soft curse under his breath. Shouldering the bag and grabbing the coat, he walks into the living room and calls out Gianna’s name.

The car ride is a bit of a quiet affair, save for the sound of raindrops pattering against the windscreen. Simon glances at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Gianna in her car seat. She’s kicking her legs back and forth, a slightly bored expression on her face as she stares out the window—at least she’s not uncomfortable. He turns his attention back to the road.

The red light turned green; the car engine hummed as Simon accelerated. Suddenly, a small voice came from the backseat.

“Daddy, I want my song,” Gianna said.

Not understanding what she meant, Simon furrows his brows, shooting a puzzled glance at her reflection in the mirror. “Your song?” he asks, confused. “What song’s that, then?"

A dramatic sigh escapes her. The girl rolls her eyes in a way that is almost comically exaggerated for a five-year-old. “My song!” she exclaims, as if it were common knowledge. “The wheels on the bus, Daddy! The wheels on the bus go round and round!”

“Right, right,” he said, one finger reaching out to fiddle with nearly every button on the radio. “The wheels on the bus. Should’ve known that, shouldn’t I?”

Soon enough, the radio sprung to life, starting the tune of her favorite song. Gianna’s face lit up, and she began happily singing along. The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round… Bloody hell, this is worse than the songs you'd had on repeat for a week. But he held his tongue from protesting, observing his little princess doing her small dance instead.

The torture was cut short when the car came to a stop at their destination. The grand neoclassical building of the Metropolitan Opera loomed before them, its mighty and majestic pillars illuminated by the lights. He closed the door, rounding the vehicle to get to Gianna’s side.

Reaching in, he unbuckled the car seat, the girl waiting patiently as he did so.

“Are we gonna see Mum?” she asked, brown eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“Soon, princess.”

Gently, Simon pulled her out of the car seat, setting her down on the ground. Locking the car, he took her tiny hand in his before the two of them made their way to the entrance, where a steady stream of well-dressed onlookers was beginning to file into the building.

Panic began to kick in when Gianna’s tiny hand slipped from his. Before he could protest, however, she pointed in a direction. “Look! That’s Mum!”

Following where her little finger pointed, his brown eyes landed on the large billboard on the side of the opera house. There, illuminated by the warm glow of a spotlight, was you, posed elegantly in your ballet attire, with the bold letters of “The Nutcracker” plastered above you. He couldn’t help the proud smile from tugging at the corners of his lips.

The sound of Gianna's hurried footsteps pulled him back to the present, her small form already darting towards the huge display. Quickly, he pulled out his updated mobile (the only reason he bought it was so he could take pictures of you and Gianna) and snapped a quick picture of his daughter standing next to the billboard.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he then strides over to Gianna. “C’mon, don’t wanna be late for Mum, do we?” he says, reaching down to scoop her into his arms. Simon tucks Gianna’s head under his chin.

Fishing out the special pass out of his wallet, he hands it to the person in charge of ticketing. They wave him through, and he steps into the foyer. Footsteps and chatter echo around him as he climbs the steps and through the towering doors of the grand opera hall.

After finding their seats, Simon leaned back comfortably in the velvet chair. But Gianna? The girl sat on the edge of her seat, her blonde head turning from side to side as she took in the sights of people filling their designated spots. She darted her eyes from one end of the room to the other, like she was searching for something—or rather, someone.

“Where’s Mum?” She asked, turning to him with a slight frown.

Simon was still leaning back in his chair. “She’ll be out soon, love,” he assured her.

“When?” she pressed, growing impatient.

Reaching over, he gently pinched her chubby cheek, eliciting a small giggle from Gianna. “Soon, princess,” he repeated, this time really hoping it will soothe her little heart. “Just sit back and relax, alright?”

“Okay, but are we gonna watch Mummy?”

“’Course, that’s why we’re here, right?”

Finally convinced, Gianna leans back, her tiny body relaxing as the lights begin to dim. The orchestra conductor ascends the podium, lifting his baton high. Gradually, the music comes to life. Simon glances over at Gianna to find her swaying her head to the melodies.

“Look, Daddy! Snow!” she exclaims, pointing at the delicate flakes of ‘snow’ falling as the opening scene of the Nutcracker unfolds.

It was easy enough to make Gianna enamored. She was mesmerized by the ‘snow’ coming down from above, letting out a soft gasp of awe when she saw the towering Christmas tree on stage. When the audience applauded, she joined in excitedly, trying to clap even louder.

But nothing, nothing compares to the moment she spots her mum.

The second you glide onto the stage, Gianna lets out a loud gasp, launching off the chair. She glues her gaze to your every step, jaw hanging open as her eyes radiate pure adoration. With her tiny index finger pointed, she jumps up and down.

“That’s Mummy, Daddy! That’s Mummy!”

His heart had never been this full. He chuckled, reaching out to gently tug her back down into her seat. “Aye, that's her, love.” He said, following where she pointed, to his wife.

“Tha’s Mummy, Daddy! Woah, woah! She’s so pretty!”

And she’s right—you’re absolutely enchanting, every movement imbued with elegance and poise. The fluid extension of your legs, the exquisite way the spotlight caresses your form. He watches you dance with your co-star in perfect synchronization, flawlessly executing those ballerina moves he can never recall the names of but loves all the same.

“She’s the best, Daddy! Look at ‘er go! Woaahh!”

“Aye, bloody brilliant, she is.”

Gianna nods in agreement. “Yeah, bloody brilliant!”

Simon snorts when she steals his lines, echoing like a loyal follower. As you continue your performance, Gianna’s oohs and awws fill the air around them. She makes little cheers, more praises, more clapping. “Didja see that jump?!” here, “She’s sooo pretty!” there.

Miraculously, Gianna still had a tank of energy even after the show was over. The second the girl saw you, she ran over and threw her arms around you. You quickly leaned down, sweeping Gianna into your arms. She giggled as you peppered her cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses.

“Here’s my pretty girl!” you said, giving her chubby cheeks another peck.

Swelling with pride, Simon smiled at the sight of his two favorite people together. Walking over to his girls, he held out the bouquet of flowers he had just taken from the trunk of his car, offering them to you.

“Well done, love.”

You accept the flowers as Simon takes Gianna from you. “Oh, babe, they’re beautiful.” You breathe, lips curving into a radiant smile.

Without a second thought, you rise onto your tiptoes, bridging the height difference between you, before pressing your lips to his in a slow, prolonged kiss. Gianna makes a disgusted sound—Simon can feel the corners of your mouth curving into a smile. You can feel the warmth of his body as he pulls you close; the familiar scent of his cologne and something of him intoxicating you.

But the moment is interrupted when Gianna tugs on Simon's cheek.

“That’s gross, Daddy! Get off Mum!”

Simon pressed one last, gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away completely. “She’s my wife too, kid.” He reminded his daughter.

You giggle at Gianna's reaction. Reaching up, you cup Simon's stubbled jaw, your thumb gently caressing the short, prickly hair over his chin. Then, turning back to your pouting daughter, you lean closer to place a soft, affectionate kiss upon her cheek.

“I need to go change, and then we can all go home, okay?”

Soon enough, the three of you were in the car, with the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of “The Wheels on the Bus” playing on the radio. In the back seat, Gianna was still full of energy, even more enthusiastic after the ballet show.

As Simon makes another turn, Gianna suddenly pipes up. “I want to be like Mummy when I grow up!” she declared.

You twist your body in the passenger seat to face her. “Really? You wanna be a ballerina like me?”

Watching Gianna in the rearview mirror, Simon joined in the conversation with his question. “Yeah? What happened to wanting to be a soldier?”

It's not like he would actually allow her if it ended up being more than a silly childhood dream. The mere idea of Gianna putting herself in danger, surrounded by self-entitled men in their star-encrusted uniforms, facing the same horrors he had seen, filled his stomach with unease. If any of her aspirations were to see fruition, he would much rather she shine in the spotlight, where she could display her poise and elegance, just like you.

But Gianna took her time in answering, as if she was considering it carefully. “‘Course I want that too! I'll just be a ballerina an’ a soldier!”

Both you and Simon laughed at that. Always gotta have it all, your little girl.

[anjelagarrick]

ink

john price x reader

summary: your husband notices something new.

tags: established relationship, very domestic, fluff!!!, talks about having children, i love him sm 😭

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

JOHN’S CHEST RISES and falls with each deep breath. You’re on your phone, back pressed to his chest, other hand resting upon his forearm, gently rubbing circles with your thumb. John loved his work, but he loved you more; he always craved being beside you, having you in his arms. The bedroom is quiet, other than a fan running to keep you both cool in the summer heat. “John, look.” You smile, offering him your phone. Just as he’s about to take it, a line on your wrist catches his attention. Slowly, he takes the phone, trying to peer at what was on your skin, yet you moved your hand away as he took it. It was a simple post of a saint bernard puppy, his favourite breed of dog. It makes him smile. “His name is Cash. Isn’t he adorable?” You giggle, rolling over in your husband’s arms to huddle closer to his chest. “Yeah, very.” He hums, handing you your phone back. You’re smiling as you continue scrolling.

Eventually, curiosity gets the better of John, and he gently grasps your wrist, pulling ever so slightly. You glance at him, watching his eyes trace over the tattoo upon your wrist. It was only small, barely noticeable. “When’d you get this?” He asks softly, smiling a little. “A few weeks ago. Do you like it?” You respond, a ghost of a laugh on your voice. It was a small, fluffy bear with a bucket hat on. John’s eyes are bright with amusement. “I love it.” He chuckles, it rumbles in his chest as he lifts your wrist; pressing a kiss over the mark. “Ive been talking about one for a while, and I figured i’d get something of you. To remind me you’re still here even when you’re away.” You explain, letting him run his thumb over your inked skin. “Maybe I should get something of you.” He muses, looking at you.

“I thought you didn’t want tattoos.” You tease, kissing his lips gently as John lowers your wrist once more. “I’d do anything for you.” He mutters, smile creasing his eyes. “Sap.” You chuckle, gently hitting his chest. “What would you get?” You add on, resting your head upon your lover’s shoulder. “A swan, maybe on her phone.” He half-jokes. “A swan?” You giggle, looking at him. “Mhm. They’re beautiful birds, very elegant, very precious too. You’re definitely my swan.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Aw, John.” You croon, cupping his cheek to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Perhaps you should make a design for me.” John suggests, holding you closer. “Yeah? Maybe I could…” You reply, letting your head rest once more. “Mhm. I’ve seen your little doodles. It would feel more… special, intimate.” He adds on, fingers brushing over yours before tangling between them, he brings your hand up to a soft kiss; focusing upon your ring finger where your wedding band sits.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You respond, smiling brightly. “Good, good. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” John chuckles, already picturing what little creations you could come up with. “Let’s just hope your boys don’t tease you.” You joke, scrolling through your social media’s once more. “They wouldn’t.” John rolls his eyes playfully. “Mmm… they would.” You smile, kissing his collarbone. John let’s out a soft chuckle. “They’ve been asking about you.” He notes. “Yeah?” You chuckle, looking up at him. “Mhm. It’s all ‘how’s our mama bear?’ and ‘when can we see her again?’ It’s mainly Johnny, you know how he is.” He laughs gently, you smile. “They’re probably the closest we’ll have to kids.” You joke, knowing how fond they were of you. “I think kids would be less difficult.” John grins. “Yeah,” you laugh. “Kids don’t have access to C4.” John lets out a joking groan. “Don’t remind me.” You laugh again, gazing at your husband as the room settles once more. “What..?” He muses, smiling gently at you. “Nothing.” You smile wider, kissing him.

“Nah, somethings up. What?” He muses, hand rubbing your back. “Just… would you want kids? A family?” You ask, pressing your head into his neck. “Of course. We’d have adorable kids.” He chuckles, “They’d look like you, i’m sure.” He adds on. “Yeah?” You smile, squeezing his torso a little tighter. “Yeah. I wouldn’t mind having a few kids with you, doll.” John insists, muscular arms moving around you securely. You giggle softly, snuggling closer. “I love you.” You tell him, chest elated with joy. “I love you more, darling. Get some rest, eh? It’s getting late.” John whispers, kissing the top of your head. “Alright. Good night, John.” You respond, curling closer. “Night, lovely.”

[dilfguzzler]

john price nsfw headcanons!

i'm currently hyperfixated on john price and want to write more for him. i always like to do an nsfw alphabet to get a feel for the character in my little bird brain

enjoy! open to requests (price and ghost only atm)

f!reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

his form of aftercare is definitely quality time. he will have just obliterated you, your mind is in outer fucking space. he'll pull you on top of him, not even cleaning you up yet, just wanting to give you time to come back to yourself.

sometimes the feelings are so much and you'll be crying, just feeling the feels and he'll stroke your back, murmuring how good you were for him, how you're his best girl. once you're fully back to your right mind, he'll get you some water, clean you up and cuddle you until you have a sleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

john price is an ass man. nothing else to be said.

he likes his hands. out in the field they cause damage and destruction. but they also keep you safe. they're also the hands that can make you scream and cry in pleasure. he also knows that you have a slight hand kink, so that's a bonus.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

INSIDE. the only time mr. breeding kink will ever not cum in your cunt is if he's coming in your mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he wants to share you. wants to watch you be fucked by his boys while he watches. wants to place you in any position he wants like he's conducting his own porn shoot. he doesn't know if his possessive streak would ever actually let this happen though.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

this man has been around. hoowee he knows exactly what he's doing, knows things about your body that you didn't even now

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

honestly, he's up for pretty much anything. he likes to be in control so even if you're riding him, be sure he's the one really in control.

he loves missionary, seeing your face, and command you to keep your eyes open and on him. he can get some real power behind his thrusts in missionary too, so much that you're limping a bit for a few days after.

also, doggy. see B, ass-man

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

definitely more serious. like he might crack a dry-ass dad joke, but he takes his fucking seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

this man is HAIRY. he keeps it under control but he's a very hairy dude

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

this one is a tricky one because i definitely think he has two sides.

one side is the feral, dominant man who just wants to FUCK.

the other is this old-fashioned guy, definitely still dominant, who wants to be romantic and charm the pants off you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

over his years in the army and the SAS, he has gotten pretty close with his hand. the only difference now when he's away, he has some abso-fucking-lutely delightful polaroids of you. he particularly loves the ones you sneak into his pockets before he leaves. those are always a nice surprise.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

this man is a kinky old boy. as mentioned before he is mr. breeding kink. defo daddy kink vibes although i cant decide if he likes to be called daddy or sir more. i think he has certain moods for each.

like sometimes he's in the mood to wreck you and wants your total obedience, this is when he likes to be sir.

sometimes he feels a little bit softer and wants you to be his good girl, and is willing to allow you a little bit of leeway and let you mess around a bit more or whatever

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he's a traditional guy. he likes to take you in bed as it's easiest (and god, does he hate to admit it, but his back can't really take anywhere else anymore)

he loves to take you soft and slow on the couch though.

oh, and he'll never forget you sitting on his lap for 2 hours straight, his cock buried to the hilt inside you. he was so proud of you for your minimal squirming and whining.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

simply, you. you literally just wake up in the morning beside him and he wants to fuck you into the middle of next week.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don't think he'd ever want to hurt you. like he's not against a bit of slapping, bruising you and being rough but he's always very controlled and knows what he's doing. he would never want to genuinely, seriously hurt you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he's a certified pussy eater, i know it. the beard adds so much. but when he eats you out, he's running on his time, he won't stop after one, two, three times. he goes until his jaw hurts.

and while he loves eating you out. fuck it if he doesn't love your mouth on his cock. sometimes he'll just leave you there while he watches the match and smokes a cigar. it's his favourite way to relax.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

as i said above, i think he definitely has two moods. so it depends

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he's a busy chap, so yeah he's up for quickies. it's not his favourite of course but sometimes he just needs to be inside you, and he'll take what he can get.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he's up for experimenting. but he will never put your safety at risk. also, his job requires a certain level of discretion so he can't be doing anything that could jeopardise that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he hates to think about it, but he can't go like he could in his 20s. he can last ages but he needs a bit more time between rounds. but that doesn't mean there's no time for fun in while he's regrouping himself.

if he's feeling mean, he'll pull out your toy collection and use all sorts of fun stuff on you, not giving you a chance to recover

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

yes. you have a toy box full of all sorts of goodies. he loves scouring the internet looking for different things he can use on you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he does NOT like to be teased. but he will tease you omg.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's grunter lol. he'll say some nasty, sweet things to you.

although, you'll never forget the time you made him almost squeal when you did something with your hips while riding him. that was fun

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he's kind of a meanie sometimes and he's so glad you love it and love his grumpy side. he never thought he'd find someone he'd align with so well, not only sexually, but in every other way too.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.5in, uncut, thick but not too thick y'know, kind of curves upwards

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not as high as it once was. he loves to fuck but he's also 100% content to sit and watch some shite tv with you or watch you make dinner or some other domestic stuff

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

won't fall asleep until he knows you're happy and fully back to yourself. he's also gotten into the habit of needing a cigar after sex. he can't sleep until he ticks certain boxes

[wyrmarchives]

Main | Navigation | COD Writing | Send a Request

Tag List! Google Form, doesn’t collect emails

Celebrations Prelude

Series: On The Side

Triggers: Age Gap (Price: 37, reader in early 20s), Cheating, lying, fighting (verbal, and shoving)

MDNI

Now Playing: She’s All I Wanna Be by Tate McRae

I hate her. I really hate her. Platinum blonde, blue eyes, those crow feet to match. A perfect smile. She smiles so sweetly, and you close your eyes when you laugh. Lips pulled to the side and head turned down. She’s not even that funny. Voice shrill like the mean girl on a telly.

I watch when you remove your ring in a bar. How you hold your chin up. Cocky smirk. You know how to pull one in. Tell Ghost it’s just like fishing. Tell me it’s just a joke, that you respect women. You respect Laswell well enough, then turn around and snap my bra strap through my uniform if I hesitate to your beck and call.

I hate her so much. A civilian. She’s tall. You treat her right other than your deployment ventures. She’s your equal right?

I hate her.

She dances well. Pretty white dress. Finally got the bigger rock on her hand. The one you’ve been flaunting around to the guys saying “soon enough.”

I could tell her. Watch your black suit stain red with the wine in her hand. Maybe watch your cheek turn red when she slaps you.

I considered myself a “girl’s girl” until you. Now look at this…

Fucked up.

I’ll lie when you ask too. Say I’m happy for you and your missus. Like you’re a good man.

Maybe the wine’s a bit too helpful to waste on your suit or her dress…

“Rookie, you good?”

“I’m not a rookie anymore, Sarge.” I grumble back taking a sip from the glass. It’s an acquired taste, but when in Rome… God, she drinks red wine. I thought you liked whiskey, John?

“You still are to me.” Kyle banters back, taking a seat at the table. “You’ve been staring.”

“Just foreign is all.” I reply with a small shrug. Nonchalant with a quick commenting frown to pair. “Odd seeing Cap’ acting… Not grumpy. Or bitchy.”

It earns a scoffed laugh. “Right that is. Cap’s always got a bad habit of picking on you, doesn’t he?”

“Let’s see,” I begin to list on my fingers, “first there was pulling my bun down, then there was swapping his hat for mine, then there was stealing my boot laces-“

“You know he was trying to be friendly, right? We’ve been a tight knit group for a while now. Welcoming you was difficult for us, hell, Price most of all more than likely. We’ve worked with women before, but accepting one onto the team? That’s a bit different.”

I roll my eyes. Landing on the love birds of the night. John practically holding her up and sliding her across the floor as she tip toes about. Maybe she doesn’t dance as well as I thought. Is she difficult to lead? I scoff. Adorable.

“It’s the truth, lass. Best not take to heart. Honest, the Scouser’s chuffed about you. Thinks you’re a right addition.” His glass raised to toast singularly as John glances at us. “Tell me, lass, you think our Captain actually wanted this big show?” His finger taps his glass.

My head snaps. Brows furrowed with careful thought. “But that’s his wife.” I nod to the pair.

Kyle looks at me. His signature bitch face. A brilliant treat. “Right, she is. A right ponce in my opinion…” He trails off. “Maybe the drink is a tad much.” He downs his glass and stands. “Give me a bell if you need. Don’t let him get to you.”

“Plastered, mate?”

“Not yet, Rookie.” The snicker is quick as he walks away to talk with the single guests. He’s definitely up for it tonight.

Celebration. That’s the point of weddings.

Looking down the bottom of my glass isn’t too far. Maybe I’ll find my celebration there… or along the dotted lines of my transfer papers…

I look back up. Maybe it’s the liquor courage, or the fact that none of it matters so much to me anymore. A toast would do some good.

I rise. A knife sounds my glass. Sharp but classy tink ringing through the air. My glass raised high with rosy cheeks and warm smile.

“To the bride. She’s got everything that I don’t have. She’s all I wanna be so bad. Perfect smile and personality inside and out to match.” I bite down the truth. “To the beautiful Heather. A woman with a heart of gold to love a man like John. May he treat you right, and your marriage be a happy one. Cheers!”

John crosses his arms, shrugging with his snarky smirk. I wanna wipe it off his face. “Orders.”

“You know, I could report you for abuse of power.” I challenge.

“You could. You won’t.”

“Why do you do this? What’s the point? You could have me removed from the team, Captain.”

“Just a bit of fun-“

“Bullshit.” I cut off. “Don’t give me that shit. You don’t treat anyone else like this.”

“Other people aren’t on my team, Rookie-“

“Lance Corporal.” I correct. “I get I’m new, but how the fuck am I supposed to be anything if I don’t get a chance? I worked hard. I graduated top of my class. I got a chance to be apart of the ‘big leagues’. I try my fucking hardest, Sir. Where the hell do you get off on harassing me? Just taking the piss, are you? Fucking bullshit-“

“You know you have a mouth on you, Lance Corporal.” He steps up. Towering over me in the small office. “You should learn to shut it.”

I straighten myself. “Yes, Captain.”

He scoffs, rounding his desk and plopping into the seat. It’s silent for a few moments. I, waiting for orders, and him, waiting to sort through his thoughts. “Were you going to tell her?”

“Sir?”

“The wedding toast.”

A beat. “No. I just thought that the red wine would look proper on your tux. Would’ve been a waste of money.”

“Good. Don’t forget, you’re convenient. I won’t leave her for you. You’re on the side.”

Star border by @cafekitsune | Border link: here

Music Divider by @thecutestgrotto | Divider link: here

[idk-i-just-write-tings]

Prompt: Simon Riley meets up with his old captain who was now head of a rugby team. While he’s there he gets hit with the opportunity for a new friend, or possibly more.

(Or a rugby AU that includes everyone shouting “heads” when a stray ball goes towards the crowd)

Length: 1899 words

Of course it had to hit him of all people. He’d only been there because he knew the team captain; that’s who he was waiting to see. He’d met John Price as a captain in the military, but after retiring the man had started up a rugby team for ex military soldiers. Ghost, who’d just been forced into retirement through injury, had been contacted by Price in regards to a flat that he could rent now that he was no longer staying on base.

He stood in the crowd nursing a pint of beer, he didn’t particularly like the drink but it was the only alcohol a man could drink in a place like this without someone taking the piss. He wore a black balaclava because it was cold, and definitely not because he still wasn’t used to not wearing a mask every day. It was rolled up to the bridge of his nose so he could drink his beer as he watched. The game had been pretty good, if he was honest. He used to play rugby when he was younger, before he’d joined the military, so he at least managed to enjoy watching it.

The time for the match was called and the ball got turned over to the winning team, Price’s team, so all they needed to do was kick it off and they’d win. Ghost pulled his phone out of his pocket to check a notification that had come through, as well as to send the captain a message that he’d meet him outside when he had changed.

He heard the ball get kicked and then a sudden chorus of people shouting “heads!” but he only managed to look up before the rugby ball was colliding with his face and falling down to knock the beer out of his hand. At least he managed to catch the ball with the hand that was now free from his beer. A murmur of “good hands” as well as some cheers for the smashed pint came from the crowd around him. Ghost just pulled his mask back down to hide the way blood was beginning to trickle out of his nose and waved off the few people that were still looking at him, chucking the ball to one of the players near the side of the pitch. They caught it and everyone moved on to finish off the match, the teams going to shake hands and the crowd applauding the players as they left the field.

Ghost didn’t follow the crowd into the clubhouse, not even to get another drink from the bar, instead sending the message that he’d been working on to the captain before settling on a bench outside. He was there for a small while, just enjoying the quiet as he looked over the muddy pitch. It felt serene. He watched birds land on the empty pitch to pick at the mud and grass and hopefully unearth some worms. He could see the top of the rugby posts sway very slightly in the wind if he looked long enough, and the muffled sound of laughter and conversation drifted through the brick walls of the clubhouse, not loud enough to distract from his thoughts completely but enough for him to linger on it, listening halfheartedly to the chatter as his mind wandered elsewhere.

“You alright, mate?”

Ghost glanced up to meet the eyes of one of the players from the captain’s team. He had a mohawk, which is the only reason Ghost recognised him at all, that was slightly damp and flopped over to one side from being in the changing room showers, but he had changed into clean clothes and was smiling at Ghost warmly.

“I’m alright,” Ghost mumbled with a light shrug. He leaned back on the bench from his previous slightly hunched posture as the stranger moved to sit next to him. Suddenly he was being offered a beer, which he took with a curious glance.

“I hit your glass earlier, I owed you.” He explained.

Ghost noticed his accent, Scottish, but didn’t comment on it. “Was just a pint,” he mumbled with a shrug. “Cheers, though.” He pushed his mask back up above his nose, wincing a little at the pain but only stopping when the man’s eyes widened.

“Yer nose is bleedin’, ye bampot! Why’d ye not get it looked at yet?”

Ghost shook his head a little, trying to wave off any worry. “I’ll get it checked later,” he said, lifting the beer up to drink when suddenly the Scot produced a packet of tissues from his pocket and held one out.

“At least wipe off the blood.”

Ghost took the tissue and began to wipe his nose carefully, coming away with more blood than he’d expected. Maybe it was broken. “Hell of a kick from you.”

“Just unlucky,” he shrugged, still watching Ghost, “didnae mean for it to go that far out.”

“Better hitting someone than it landing back in play.” He wiped his nose a few more times until the tissue came away clean, then he decided to see if he could feel a break. He brought his hand up to touch the top of his nose through the balaclava, taking in a sharp breath at the pain there. He reached up and pulled the balaclava all the way off, setting it down on the bench beside him, before going back to prodding his nose. He couldn’t say from just feeling if it was actually broken or not, but it definitely felt bad. He glanced back at the man beside him, about to ask if it looked broken, but noticed his cheeks had flushed pink. “What?”

The Scot huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Guess I should’ve bought more than just a pint for injuring a face like yours, aye?”

“Is it that bad?”

“No!” He shook his head quickly before flushing darker. “I mean, aye, yer nose looks broken, but I meant-” he cut himself off and looked away. “Och, never mind.”

Ghost leaned closer to him, a small smirk beginning to appear on his lips. “No, no, I want to hear.” He didn’t get to continue teasing the Scot though, because suddenly a new voice spoke up, one he recognised.

“Good to see you again, Simon.”

Ghost almost smiled at the familiar voice, standing up and nodding at the older man as he approached. He still wore his signature hat, like he always used to in the field, but now he was dressed in much more casual clothing. He looked like a stereotypical father with his polo shirt and khaki trousers. He was also carrying a bag with what was likely his rugby kit in it over his shoulder. It was nice to see him relaxed. “Likewise, John.”

“I see you’ve already met Soap.” He looked pointedly at the man behind Ghost.

Ghost glanced back at him, noticing his face was still bright red. “Soap?” What the hell kind of name is Soap?

Price huffed a laugh. “Old callsign. Can’t have two John’s on the team.” He pulled a slightly crumpled piece of paper from his pocket along with a key and held them both out to Ghost. “This is the address. I have to get going, though, something just came up.”

Ghost nodded. “That’s fine.”

“If you ever want to train with us you’re more than welcome.” Price gave his shoulder a pat before he stepped back and began moving towards the car park. “And you should go sort out that nose, it looks broken.”

Ghost huffed and gave a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “Yes, sir.”

The captain grinned and waved before fully turning to walk away. “I’ll see you around.”

Ghost waved back before turning to look at the Scot, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Soap, then?”

Soap jumped up from the bench, holding his hand out for Ghost to shake. “John Mactavish, actually.” He grinned brightly when Ghost took his hand, giving it a firm shake. “And you?”

“Simon Riley, callsign Ghost.”

Soap’s eyes widened and suddenly he looked starstruck. “The Ghost?” He gaped up at him.

Ghost pulled his hand away carefully, dropping it back to his side. “Did we meet?”

“Not officially, but I saw you in the field a few times. The Captain talks about you a lot.” He tilted his head to one side, curious. “Price said you wouldn’t ever retire.”

Ghost shifted back a little at the unspoken question before holding his right hand up again. Across the back of his hand was a large jagged scar, it was still raised and coloured a harsh pink against his pale skin so it had only recently healed. “Mission went wrong,” he began, “I got caught by a dying man who was desperate to take me out. He’s dead, but I can’t reliably pull a trigger anymore.” He spoke without emotion in his voice. Couldn’t show that he was still angry at himself for being off guard. He didn’t expect Soap to take his hand gently to see the scar closer. It took everything in Ghost to not instinctively jerk away.

“Did he cut a tendon?” He asked, his voice gentle. He wasn’t pitying him but still spoke carefully, softer than before. He didn’t let go as he looked up, blue eyes meeting Ghost’s brown, gently cradling the man’s hand in his own.

He nodded slowly, suddenly finding himself unable to look away from those blue eyes. “I still have some movement, but it’s not enough.”

Soap frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that Ghost thought was cute, though he mentally berated himself for that thought a second later. Soap, oblivious to Ghost’s internal argument, spoke up again with a hopeful smile. “Maybe you can play some rugby with us? It’ll give you something to do.”

Ghost shrugged. “Maybe,” he mumbled, finally dropping his gaze. He didn’t pull his hand back though, could feel Soap looking at the scar again, practically burning holes through it.

“You haven’t drunk much of that beer.” He didn’t say it accusingly, just as a quiet observation. He was still looking at the scar as if it would give him the answers to the universe should he stare at it long enough. “I can get you something else.”

Ghost shook his head, taking a sip of the drink he’d completely forgotten about. “No, I’ll drink it.”

Soap smiled at him, finally dropping Ghost’s hand to meet his eyes. “What’s your favourite?”

“Whiskey,” he murmured, putting his hand into his pocket now that it was free.

A certain playfulness filled the Scot’s eyes at the revelation. “You mean scotch?”

The corner of Ghost’s lips twitched upwards. “I drink bourbon.”

“Like a good ol' boy,” Soap drawled, a teasing lilt to his voice. Ghost brought the beer up for another sip, trying to hide the way his cheeks flushed red at the Scot’s words. Before he could reply Soap spoke again. “I’ll buy you one, after you get your nose looked at.”

Ghost considered this for a few seconds, his head tilting a little as he looked Soap up and down. “Are you asking me out for drinks?”

Soap nodded. “Aye, I am. I think I owe you for damaging your braw face.”

Ghost huffed a breath, flustered but trying to pretend the words didn’t affect him. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Johnny.”

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Lili-Babs, Samuel Barber, Carl Betz, the late, great guitarist Chris Bovard, Trevor Burton (The Move), John Cale, Robert Calvert (Hawkwind), Ornette Coleman, Jane Antonia Cornish, Jim Cregan, Jerry Eubanks (Marshall Tucker), Jimmie Fadden, Linda Fiorentino, Martin Fry (ABC), Will Geer, Mickey Gilley, Zakir Hussain, Raul Julia, Kato Kaelin, Laura Lee, Mahler’s 3rd Symphony (1897), Mark Mancina, Jeffrey Osborne, Lloyd Price, Bobby Sands, Thomas Schippers, Bodhi Setchko, Keely Smith, Taeyeon, Chris Thompson (Mannfred Mann’s Earth Band), Diego Torres, Robin Trower, U2’s 1987 JOSHUA TREE album, Gary Walker (Standells, Walker Brothers), Paul Winter, and one of the greatest frontman in rock’n’roll: Mark Lindsay, best known as the singer for Paul Revere & The Raiders. In their major label era of the 1960s and early 70s, PR&TR were one of the tightest and most visible acts in the business. They were the first real rock band signed to Columbia Records, and their garage band energy and declarative stage look pushed back on the British Invasion bands of 1964.

The Raiders kicked out hit after hit in multiple genres including bubblegum, country rock, hard rock, psychedelia, and soul/r’n’b, all with dazzling excellence. They cut the first definitive version of “Louie Louie” before leaving their Oregon base for Los Angeles, joining Terry Melcher (Byrds producer) to launch a prolific and innovative run of great records that still play today: “Just Like Me”, “Kicks” and (recently in the film ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD) “Good Thing,” “Hungry,” “Mr. Sun Mr. Moon,” etc. Between 1965 and 1970, as Dick Clark expanded his jukebox TV empires, he hired PR&TR to host three TV shows. Before The Monkees even twanged “Last Train to Clarksville,” PR&TR had already set the bar for TV bands, gluing pre-adolescent me to the tube with rock’n’roll comedy and ear candy—and there was eye candy for 1000s of girls screaming for teen idol Mark Lindsay. He set the bar as a powerhouse vocalist, able to croon soft sensual pop ballads then flip to paint-peeling bluesy growls.

The Raiders crested in 1971 with the #1 hit “Indian Reservation,” which was a repackaging of a Mark Lindsay solo recording (backed by the Wrecking Crew). As a solo act, Mark was already charting with “Silver Bird” and the hippy girl anthem “Arizona.” He branched into other music business roles, composing jingles and songs for films and TV shows. Legendary author Stephen King expressed his fan-dom with Mark’s 2001 cover of “Treat Her Right,” backed by Los Straitjackets. 

Meanwhile, Mark’s career intersected with The Carpenters, The Chesterfield Kings, Eric Johnson, Carla Olson, Gerry Rafferty, Barbra Streisand, Dionne Warwick, and The Monkees, whose orbit led me to cross paths with Mark a couple of times, and he always treated me like a gentleman. I first saw him in concert in 1993, and it was a rock solid show loaded with the hits and deep cuts. Lately he’s been active doing radio shows and webcasts, the latest being “The American Revolution” on Sirius XM.

If I had to pick one Mark Lindsay track, it’s "Too Much Talk.” It blew my mind when I was a kid—my 45 of it cracked but I kept pressing it with my fingers till the vinyl tissued. The fidelity on this clip is a tad distorted, but the visuals speak volumes. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EG30aN53GkY Meanwhile, HB and thank you Mark for continuing to inspire and entertain with your skills and talents.

#marklindsay #paulrevereandtheraiders #vox #davyjones #monkees #garagerock #countryrock #terrymelcher #birthday #psychedelic #bubblegum #silverbird #arizona #tvrock #keithallison #johnnyjblair #mickydolenz

[gatorbites-imagines]

So what about Price, König, Alejandro, and Gaz finding their boyfriend asleep under a tree, but he has a couple of wild animals asleep on him along with a book in hand.(bonus point if he has glasses)

John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, and König

Headcanons

I chose some random animals for this, no specific country in mind lmao.

John Price

-          Price doesn’t really know what to do when he goes looking for you and finds you asleep, with a whole ass mountain lion sleeping in your lap. The feline just opens its eye a smidge to look at Price and goes back to sleep.

-          The book is laying on the mountain lions back as you snooze, glasses sliding down your nose as half cuddled against the feline.

-          He slowly moves closer, ready to move if the mountain lion decides to attack but it just keeps snoozing in your lap. Price carefully wakes you up, always keeping an eye on the feline until you wake up.

-          He wants to pull you away to safety immediately, but you pet the feline some more before carefully pushing it off your lap and getting your things and leaving with Price.

-          He tells you not to do that again, because what the hell, and you could get very hurt if the animal wasn’t that friendly. Price definitely keeps an eye on you from then on out to make sure you don’t go cuddle wild animals again.

 Alejandro Vargas

-          Alejandro goes looking for you after he’s been in meetings all day, and when he sees you asleep under a tree he smiles and goes to maybe kiss you awake. Then he notices the snake in your lap, along with the golden eagle loafing beside you.

-          He kinda freezes with visible confusion on his face, because huh?? The eagle is death glaring him as he tries to scoot closer, the bird looking like it wants to maul him for bothering their sleepy time.

-          The snake is asleep on your hands that are holding the book, it rattles its tail at Alejandro, so he quickly backs off and just kinda, stands at a distance and watches in confusion and worry.

-          He doesn’t freak out as much as he should since the animals seem completely calm with you, but those are dangerous animals and they’re just?? Sleeping with you??

-          When you finally wake up, he watches you pet the animals a bit, put the snake on the ground, get up, and just wander on over to him to give him a kiss.

-          He tells you not to go sleep outside anymore, because he’s sure you’re cursed or something like that if you keep drawing dangerous animals to you.

 Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

-          Gaz calls you his Disney prince because animals are drawn to you, especially after he catches you sleeping with animals all over you.

-          He immediately pulls out his phone to take pictures when he finds you asleep with at least 3 raccoons all over you, hummingbirds in your hair, and a fox draped over your legs.

-          Its his phone background and he sends the picture to all the other members of the team.

-          When he can’t find you he always goes to check outside because your typically out there reading with animals cuddling you.

-          There’s been at least one time where some squirrels or birds have stolen your glasses, and to Gaz´s confusion you are somehow able to convince the animals to give them back.

-          He thinks you are cute but he does not want you to come anywhere near him with a good amount of the animals, especially when you bring a rattlesnake into your shared bedroom because “it looked cold :(“

 König

-          König almost faints when he cant find you, goes to look, and finds you cuddling a grizzly bear. He starts panicking, thinking its dangerous, until he notices how the bear is just nuzzling you and licking your hair.

-          When he sneaks closer the bear allows him, though it won’t let you go since it has its paw wrapped around you. So, König just sits down beside you, ready to bolt if he has too.

-          He ends up carefully taking the book you were reading from your hands and starting to read it himself when it finally hits him that the bear is apparently completely harmless. He can’t help the way his heartrate goes up whenever it moves though.

-          When you finally wake up the two of you stay sitting for a while, just talking quietly, until you have to go back to base. You wiggle out of the bears hold, which makes it obvious it isn’t the first time you’ve cuddled a bear, and the two of you leave.

-          When the two of you get away from the bear König almost collapses because of the nerves and anxiety that whole experience gave him. He quietly asks you not to do that again, or he might not survive.

[of-dragonss]

General relationship headcanons for Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley and John ‘Soap’ Mactavish

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Disclaimer: Little to no military knowledge from the author 🕺 don’t come for me i hate the military but i love these military men 🫠

Gender Neutral Military Soldier!Reader

this is also a test to see how i’m gonna write for these two. Yes you can request for them. I can’t do the entirety of the 141 YET but stay tuned 💃

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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

At first he was very intrigued by you. Having caught Price’s eye enough to have him assign you to the 141. He’ll be absolutely in denial that he’s caught genuine feelings for you. Not wanting to get close to someone after all he’s went through. But he can’t help the warm feeling he gets when you make eye contact with him from across any room when he stares for far too long.

Eventually he’ll accept that he’s in love with you, will probably outright tell you after you were reckless on a mission, using yourself as a human shield for him. He’d be angry and frustrated and as he’s scolding you for your actions and you arguing back that he would’ve been killed, he’ll blurt out that he was fine if it was him, he doesn’t want to see the only person he can’t get out of his mind hurt because of him.

Ghost will pause as he watches your reaction, and slowly take off his mask, eyebrows furrowed and eyes on the ground. You take his face in your hands and confess your feelings too. From then on you’re an official couple, to Soaps delight. (He won a bet against Price and Gaz.)

You’ll have to be very patient with Simon. He’s been through a lot and lost a lot of people he loved dearly. Being emotionally vulnerable is very hard for him.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He’s just really bad at communicating it. Like. Really bad. His actions do speak louder than words.

It usually little things. From watching you like a hawk during missions together, making sure you’re okay at all times. From small, brief touches every now and then before and after missions to cleaning your weapons for you. Sometimes he’ll grab your hand during missions when you guys aren’t separated, away from the eyes of others, slowly running his thumb across your knuckles.

Most common physical contact is him putting his hand on your back between your shoulder blades. And on rare occasions, forehead touches. That damn mask gets in the way though but it’s still a nice gesture and one of his more intimate ones he’ll do in front of the others. Since he knows they don’t really care all that much.

If Soap says anything about it though he’s getting one of Ghost’s nasty dead eyed stares. And a threat that holds no true malice behind it, just annoyance.

He has trouble vocalizing his affection to you. That doesn’t come easy to him. Usually it’s such a normal, everyday phrase no one seems to notice the importance of when he says anything to you. From reassuring you he has your back from any threats, to simply asking you how you’re holding up when the two of you are separated.

Sleeping out in deserts, jungles, boats, anywhere not at home he has to have your cot next to his or he won’t sleep. Usually he doesn’t really sleep actually, but having you around eases his mind, letting him get much needed rest even if you’re a couple feet away, facing each other as you rest.

He’s not used to having someone around his apartment when he’s home away from war. Having someone there when he wakes up is new to him again. And he’s definitely not used to you praising him. Telling him how much you love him and how handsome he is. Kissing him because you want to. Looking up at him with so much love and adoration.

During the hours where the sun is just beginning to rise, the birds are softly singing outside in the trees, he’ll wake up before an hour before you so he could go on his morning jog. But he’ll stay in bed for a few minutes, admiring your sleeping face. Gently cupping one of your cheeks in his hand and slowly run his thumb over your cheek bone. And when he gets up to get ready for his run, he’ll kiss your forehead before he leaves. Coming back to find you cooking breakfast for the both of you.

The privacy of the apartment lets him be more vulnerable. If only a little. He still has trouble with words. But physical touch comes easier to him. He’ll come up behind you when you’re doing something in the kitchen and put his hands on your waist, kissing the top of your head. When sitting on the couch he’ll pull you towards his side so you can snuggle up to him. When sleeping he likes facing you, arms wrapped around your middle, rubbing up and down your back with your head to his chest, his chin lightly pressing on your forehead.

When he does vocalize his feelings it’s usually an ‘I love you.’ It’s rare but he means it entirely. If you say it back immediately when he does he’ll bring you in for a tight hug for a minute or two, pulling up his mask to kiss you briefly. His love is soft, warm and intense. He may be wary about loving you because he’s afraid it’ll put a target on your back, even if you know how to take care of yourself, but he really does love you. Like i said be patient with him.

John ‘Soap’ Mactavish

Johnny is more openly emotional. He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve but he does actively show and say it. After missions he’s always asking you if you’re okay. Making sure you’re stocked up in ammunition. Handing you weapons he knows you prefer. Always going ahead of you first in tight spaces to act as a human shield for you. Yelling out your name when you’re in trouble, and etc.

It was like this since he got to know you after you joined the 141, eyes always following your every move, helping you out any chance he got, showing off in the worst moments getting scolded by Price and Ghost.

He’ll confess his feelings after a mission when you save him from an enemy sniper, telling him to duck as you take them out. Not as intense as Ghosts confession but he’s still in absolute awe of you, he couldn’t stay quiet about it anymore.

Really, he’s a love sick puppy, always looking at you with those grey eyes full of admiration and awe. Always close to you when he can. He enjoys any time he can get with you when on duty. Sitting right next to you while you two clean your weapons. Leaning on a wall and chatting away about anything and everything when you have time to simply relax. Sitting next to you in car rides as you two stare out the windows, feeling each others body heat from being so close.

He is touchy, but he restrains himself in front of the rest of the 141. But when a mission requires the team to separate into groups and you two aren’t in the same one he’ll always without fail run up to you and spin you around when it’s done and over with, especially if you were very heroic that mission.

He will constantly boast about you to the annoyance of everyone. Alejandro is the only one who doesn’t really mind. But he does tease Soap about how love sick he is. They definitely act like school boys around each other. Ghost is constantly annoyed by his blabbering about you though. He’s trying to sleep please shut the fuck up oh my god.

When alone together it’s rare for him not be physically touching you. His hugs are tight and playful. Ruffling your hair constantly to make you laugh. Squishing your cheeks. Picking you up and hauling you over his shoulder. Dancing in the living room to a high energy song and slow dancing when he’s feeling extra romantic.

He also melts when you praise him about anything. And turns into putty when you run your fingers through his mohawk, giving him scalp massages. He falls asleep like that on the couch often, his head on your lap as you two watch a movie or tv show.

Can’t cook for shit but he loves when you offer to teach him. It’s a reason to be close with you and he gets to learn something so it’s a win for everyone involved. It feels so domestic to him. Listening and watching you as you focus on the meal you’re preparing, telling him about every step in detail. From the cooking lessons he’s learned how to make a mean spaghetti and meatballs, and it’s one of the first you taught him since the sauce and the meatballs are from your own family recipe. It’s turned into his favorite meal and usually cooks it on date nights.

He’s talked to you about life after the military. Finding a home somewhere nice and quiet. Maybe by a lake, possibly having a farm. He does know he wants a dog. Any kind of dog will do. The topic of children is all out to you guys if you’re willing to have them or not. If no he’s okay with it just being you and a dog running around. If yes he’d want one child. Doesn’t matter what gender, he’d be delighted by anything.

He definitely writes about you in his journal by the way 100%. About how lovely you look certain days to how well you fought in hand to hand training. To moments in battle where you do something he deems as heroic. Some pages are filled with only you, others you and the rest of the squad. Sometimes it’s little notes about little details about you.

He also likes to write you those little notes on sticky notes. Sticks them in random places he knows you’ll be the one to see them. Just some cute worded messages. Nothing too detailed that’s for his journal. He knows you always save them, and when you find them he gets a quick peck on the lips from you with a big smile.

i blacked out when i typed this and these turned longer than i expected lmao

[lazybutsmexy]

Bird hunting

Ghost x fem!reader x Soap

Chapter 12: The Nest (Epilogue)

Ch. 11 > Series Masterlist

Warnings: uuuuh none, I think?

Summary: Two weeks later.

Do not read if you're under 18. This work contains mature and triggering themes.

Word count: 1700~

December

Johnny watched his breath condense on the cold glass, blurring his sight of the snowfall. Better that way, he thought, it won’t let me see my own mug. He looked over his shoulder to watch Simon’s back. That strong, muscular back he always looked at in admiration and hope, sat now hunched on a too-small chair, utterly exhausted. Neither of them had gotten any more than a couple hours of sleep in the past two weeks, and it was showing. They were both physically and mentally drained, just getting through every day, one by one. 

He let out a sigh and stepped closer to Simon, carefully resting his hands on his weary shoulders and felt a slight jolt - he had been dozing off. “Try to get some sleep, Simon,” he prodded, knowing it would be a lost cause. 

“...What will I see when I close my eyes, Johnny?” Simon grunted tiredly, barely raising his head to see him in his periphery. Johnny bit his lip and leaned down, pressing his cheek against Simon’s.

“...I don’t know, love.” 

At least, they were together in this. 

~~~~~~

The low chime of the bells accompanied the funeral procession as the casket was carried out of the church. The skies were cloudy, mockingly fitting for such gloomy scenery. Price looked at the crowd of people gathered around the casket and trickling out of the building. It was like looking at a field of black flowers - most of them saluting at the mortal remains of Officer Melanie Kirk as she was carried to the hearse that would drive her to her final resting place. 

Detective Timothy Hartford was standing close to the family, not as her superior, but as her father’s old colleague. He had asked to be put on leave for personal issues, and Price wondered if that was the prelude to his retirement from the police force as well. After all, Timothy had always felt his losses way too close. Another change in careers could be beneficial for him. 

As the funeral procession went on and the crowd dispersed, Hartford found himself looking for his old military friend. As soon as he stepped up to Price, he felt a couple of pats on his shoulder. 

“Already said it before, but you have my condolences,” John hummed, lighting his cigar and handing Hartford the lighter. 

“Appreciated, and thanks for coming,” the detective took a long drag of his cigarette, “how’s your girl doing?”

Price let out a long sigh and shook his head, and his eyes seemed to lose themselves in the horizon. “Still sleeping, I’m afraid.”

“...It’s been a couple of weeks already, no?” the detective questions, arching one of his eyebrows, “how are your boys holding up?”

“Yeah, well,” Price groaned, a sad smile tugging at his lips, “both Ghost and Soap refuse to leave her room. They keep massaging her hands and legs, hoping for her to react to anything.” 

Hartford replicated his friend’s expression, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You must be happy your kids are so tight,” he hummed, before stomping the butt of his cigarette on the ground. Price couldn’t find any reason to deny it, and a pleased smile found its home in his face. 

“I am,” he sighed, before bidding his friend goodbye and walking back to his car, “let’s have a drink sometime this week, alright?”

Hartford waved him goodbye, and walked towards his own car to follow the funeral procession to the cemetery. 

~~~~~~

…It was warm. 

It was warm and dry, and smelled of antiseptic. Definitely not like the forest. 

The beeping was getting annoying. 

She tried to take a deep breath, but her sides hurt. Her lungs felt like two empty balloons. The hand on top of hers was strong, slightly calloused, and very, very warm. It was tenderly kneading her knuckles and fingers. She wanted to hold it. Just a squeeze. 

The hand retreated and she nearly let out a whine, but she only managed to exhale through her nose. She missed the warmth. She wanted to find it again. 

Her eyelids cracked open, the blurry colors slowly settling in. The first thing she recognized was a ceiling - she was at the hospital, again. But the room was darker than usual. The fluorescent lights were off, and the only light seemed to come from a window.

She slowly turned her head to look at the source of light, and her breath briefly paused at the view. Simon and Johnny were looking out of the window, supporting themselves on the other. Johnny’s arm was wrapped around Simon’s middle, and Simon’s was keeping Johnny close by his shoulders. 

[Name] thought they looked absolutely adorable, but short flashbacks began appearing in her mind. She remembered their worried eyes, their urgent voices. A pang of guilt weighed heavy in her chest - it was all her fault. Well, technically it was her captors’, but she had been careless enough to let it turn that bad. 

She missed them dearly, though. How long had it been since she fainted? She couldn’t wait in silence any longer. She wanted to see their faces again. 

She wet her lips, and took a deep, shuddery breath.

A slow, gentle whistle startled both men, and they turned around to meet [Name] looking at them with a drowsy smile and half-lidded eyes. 

“How’s the view?” her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence of the room. 

In a fraction of a second, they cleared the distance from the window to the bed, barely able to contain their enthusiasm as their hands got hold of whatever was closer to them. Johnny’s hands cupped her face, while Simon took her hand and pressed it against his cheek, pressing his lips against the skin. 

Johnny looked deep into her eyes with a watery smile, his tears colliding with her rosy apples. “The view is beautiful, breathtaking actually,” he kissed her cheeks, earning a breathy giggle from her before she coughed, her throat still too dry. 

Simon handed her a glass of water and helped her take tiny sips, while Johnny pressed the button to call the nurse in. Once she’d drunk enough, Simon leaned in, claiming her lips in a slow, needy kiss. [Name] let out a small moan into his mouth, feeling content and fuzzy for the first time in a long while. 

~~~~~~

“...and only after you’ve completed the physical therapy, you can get back to training,” the doctor instructed [Name], and she couldn’t help but compare it to the little speech he had given her only a little over two months prior. “And then you have the psychological evaluation to determine if you’re suitable to get back on the field, but that’s out of my scope, really,” he shrugged and offered her a little smile, “I hope you don’t get back too soon this time, though.” 

[Name] pouted and let out a short snort at him, “Likewise, Doc,” she grumbled, but then she continued with a little grin of her own, “thanks for everything.” 

The doctor nodded and gave her a gentle pat on the leg, before taking his leave. All this time, while she was prodded and poked all over, Simon and Johnny had remained aside and out of the way, staring into the back of the heads of whoever got closer to her. 

But now they were alone in the room once again, and both men took one of her sides, unable to keep their hands off her now that she was awake. She hummed into their touches, raising her own hand to stroke Johnny’s cheek.

“I was half-expecting to see you turned into a lobster when you came back,” she teased him, and he only nuzzled into her hand.

“I did take the sunscreen,” he smiled, carefully stroking her bruised wrist with his thumb, “I always listen to you, y’know?” The question looked much heavier in his eyes than how it sounded, and [Name] didn’t fail to notice it.

“I know, you just like the banter, hm?” she smiled at him, pulling him down to kiss his cheek. She watched the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile, and wiped out a stray tear with her thumb. He leaned in closer, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her scent deeply. 

She enjoyed his weight on her and relaxed into Simon’s touch as he held her hand in his own. A few more moments passed in silence, before she let out a little whine.

“I can’t believe I’ll be on medical leave, again,” she sighed, and Simon let out a chuckle, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“We managed to get Price to let us stay with you this time,” he hummed, and she noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes. That piqued her interest, and curiosity got the best of her.

“...How?” 

“We told him that if he even talked about sending us off on a mission, we’d break our own legs and force him to put us on medical leave, too,” Johnny smirked, barely pulling away from her neck to speak. Her mouth fell open in shock.

“You did not-”

“Nothing will keep us away from you this time, Tweetie-bird,” Johnny pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, “we’re all going home together.”

[Name]’s smile only widened, and she knew that if both men paid attention, they would hear her speeding heartbeat. “Home?”

“My place,” Simon clarified, his thumb tenderly stroking her darkened cheek, “it’s big enough for the three of us.”

She considered the thought, falling asleep lulled by Johnny’s reading, and waking up to their sleepy faces and Simon’s awful bed hair. Lazy morning breakfasts, and quiet talks over hot drinks while snuggled up in Simon’s enormous sofa. 

“Sounds nice,” she hummed softly, before quickly piping up, “I call dibs in the middle!”

Johnny barked a laugh, before squishing her cheeks and making her lips pucker out, “as if I’d let you sleep anywhere else!” He pressed a sloppy kiss on her pouty lips, swallowing her giggles. 

Simon watched them - the two people that poured all their love into him without a second thought - with a content smile on his face. 

There was no empty space between him and Johnny any longer.

His heart was complete once again. 

The end.

A/N: Don't you guys love a happy ending? I personally love them :) Thank you all who stuck to the end, despite all the pain I made you go through, you truly mean a lot to me!! You read all of this idea of mine, that started like a little thought and snowballed into a 12-part series lol. Thank you again for all your support!!!

Taglist: @died-in-a-field-of-flowers @rafaelacallinybbay @namenotimportant1373 @ragingbookdragon @zinfairy @scrumplump @omgitstatertot @fullmoon-94 @kalamataolivesssss @embers-of-alluring @warenai @frazie99 @kee-0-kee @littlezarp @scaredknight @tapioca-marzipan @kendahl757 @sweetybuzz25 @cumbersome-robes @carlyi @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @scarletbandit @twistytimesandthoughts @angelsquidd @ilovemoneyandcheese @sail-boat21 @vvoidspaceeee @httpsarii1 @delreyaddict @madelyn324566 @badame0224 @httpsobi @joanne-uwu

[bingoboingobongo]

task force 141 + favorite christmas movies

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: sorta did this already with ghost but now it’s time for the entire team

john "soap" mactavish:

what can i say soap is a home alone kinda guy

he fell in love with them as a kid and he just never fell out of love

it's that sorta violent but still comedic and overly dramatized kind of humor that soap likes

plus he's a sucker for montages and you know home alone has a bunch of them

he's a fan of the whole series too

but the first one is definitely his favorite, just because it's classic

definitely gets freaked out by the bird lady in the second one (i think it's the second one)

and yes he's always wanted a home alone situation whenever he was a kid

he would literally pray for a duo of goofy robbers to try and break in whenever his parents weren't home

of course it never worked

but you know

a man can dream

he also knows all the home alone lore

and he freaked out when he found out macaulay culkin was married to brenda song

kyle "gaz" garrick:

so this goes hand in hand with my christmas songs headcanon

but gaz's favorite christmas movie is the grinch (2018)

bc 1. it has a fire soundtrack

2. it's got great animation

and 3. beneficiary cumberbun as the grinch was unprecedentedly good

he also doesn't like the live action grinch

he watched it when he was younger and it really scared him

like im talking it really scared him

he saw it in a hotel while his family was visiting new york for christmas

and then he refused to sleep on the wall side of the bed because he was scared the grinch was gonna come from under the bed in that sorta shadowy area between the bed and the wall and steal him

and yes he still sleeps on the lamp side whenever he stays at hotels now

even though he's a grown man

so yeah the grinch (2018) was a very welcome change to that

i mean the animation is so bright and cheery

what's not to love

plus he really likes how fluffy the grinch looks

and yes he watched it in theatres with his family so there's a lot of good memories associated with that as well

simon "ghost" riley:

so kinda similar to gaz

but ghost's favorite christmas movie is actually how the grinch stole christmas (1966)

for those of y'all who aren't up to date on the grinch movie release timeline that's the cartoon one

gaz doesn't like that one because that smile the grinch does in the beginning (you know what i mean, it's the one where his cheeks literally like migrate to his ears) freaked him out

but ghost actually enjoys that scene

he says it scratches an itch

he also likes the 1966 grinch because it brings him back to simpler times

he first watched it in school right before winter break

and then he went home and made his mom watch it with him over and over and over again

and so now whenever he has the chance he'll watch during the holiday season

it does make him a little sad though

you know since his mom's dead

anyways

john price:

price's favorite movie is charlie brown's christmas

he's actually a pretty big fan of the peanuts

is that what they're called? idk

so it's only a no brainer that the charlie brown christmas special brings him a special kind of joy

before he used to watch it on cable on christmas day

and then he got apple tv+ so now he watches it to get in the mood

guys this isn't an ad for apple i swear

he likes to cozy up with a blanket, some nice socks (he's a sock guy what can i say), a cup of tea or hot cocoa, and some biscuits

sometimes he falls asleep before the end tho

but it's not like he's never seen it before so it's fine

yet despite his love for the peanuts he does not have a charlie brown christmas tree

no his tree is always freshly cut down and usually pretty hefty

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

alright so this one also goes with my christmas music headcanons

but rudy's favorite christmas movie is the frozen franchise

and yes it's a holiday movie

he will fight you on that

in his mind snow + fire soundtrack = christmas movie

so yes goncharov would technically be a christmas movie by rudy's criteria

and yes he will fight you if you bring that up

he also really hates claymation

like really really hates it

it's too uncanny valley for him

like for it to be enjoyable it better be super duper obvious that the characters are clay

but even then it still catches him off guard

he also really likes christmas specials for like a bunch of shows

so after he's done with his frozen marathon he'll turn on his favorite shows and just watch the christmas episodes

and yes he does that for every holiday that has specials

alejandro vargas:

okay so potentially controversial opinion

but alejandro really enjoys hallmark movies

like it doesn't matter which one it is as long as it's a christmas hallmark movie he's down to watch it

he doesn't even know why like he's aware of how cheesy they are

but they've really mastered that feel good formula

even if each movie is riddled with plot holes

but even then that's also part of the fun too

like he enjoys inviting rudy or even the others over so they can poke fun at all the logistical impossibilities of the movie

and really that's what he likes when he watches the movies

the good memories he makes

ig it's true guys

the real lesson was the friends we made on the way

or whatever the saying is idk

he also likes the cheesy romance of it all

and also he doesn't tell anyone that he secretly enjoys the hallmark movies

with everyone else he pretends that it sucks

but he eats it up every time

and yes he always checks to see if the kiss happens at the same time

and so far it has almost every single time

[arctic-comet]

Osblaine week 2021, Day 2: Lyrics

Over the last several weeks, I have carefully curated a playlist for Osblaine. The final total length of the playlist is 2 hours and 53 minutes.

The playlist can be found HERE

Click "Keep Reading" if you're interested in the introduction, commentary, more graphics and the full tracklist.

For full disclosure, I have to give some of the credit to my amazing fellow Osblaine fangirls @dystopiandramaqueen, @splitscreen and everyone who participated in a certain conversation for the original inspiration and even bringing up some of the songs.

You should look at the playlist in five parts: one section for each season that's aired and one section for the future (because I like to end things on a hopeful note).

The playlist contains a lot of the following:

Music from movie and TV soundtracks

Instrumental music

Remixes

Classics and covers of classics

Country music. I blame Florida. My sincerest apologies.

Some of the songs were chosen because they reminded me of a certain Osblaine scene, and some of them aren't specific to particular scenes but chosen for the general Osblaine vibe. And most of the movie/TV music I chose have been used for couples that remind me of Nick and June.

Part I- Season 1, first 12 songs of the playlist:

Forbidden Love- Abel Korzeniowski, Jasper Randall, The Hollywood Studio Symphony (Romeo & Juliet)

Fireflies- Owl City

Echoes in Rain- Enya

My Ghost- Glass Pear (Bones)

Daring to Hope- Anne Dudley (Poldark)

Everytime We Touch- Cascada

1000 Times- Sara Bareilles

Too Good At Goodbyes- Sam Smith

In Case You Don't Live Forever- Ben Platt

To Find You- Cast of Sing Street, Brenock O’Connor

She- Elvis Costello (Notting Hill)

Miracle- Instrumental- Cö Shu Nie

Hanging By A Moment- Lifehouse

Commentary:

The first instrumental song IMO works as an intro for their entire love story.

The next two songs are more about having the right vibe. It's a little ambiguous and dark because that's how their life is in Gilead.

Leave my door open just a crack

Please take me away from here

'Cause I feel like such an insomniac

Please take me away from here

Why do I tire of counting sheep?

Please take me away from here

When I'm far too tired to fall asleep

***

Wait for the sun

Watching the sky

Black as a crow

Night passes by

Taking the stars

So far away

Everything flows

Here comes another new day

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

***

"My Ghost" is June's POV before they sleep together, wondering if she can trust Nick:

Who can you trust, in this place?

And whom can I put my faith?

If you're real, then show me now,

Who you are

The last two songs are for episode 1x10, for both Nick’s reaction to June’s pregnancy and the beginning of her first escape attempt (arranged by Nick).

She may be the face I can't forget The trace of pleasure or regret May be my treasure or the price I have to pay She may be the song that summer sings Maybe the chill that autumn brings Maybe a hundred different things Within the measure of a day

Part II- Season 2, next 10 songs:

Love Will Keep Us Alive- Eagles

So Easy- Phillip Phillips

Incomplete- James Bay

Rewrite the Stars- The Piano Guys (The Greatest Showman)

I’ll Be Your Shelter- Taylor Dayne

Love Never Fails- Brandon Heath

P.S. I Love You- 05:11- John Powell (P.S. I Love You)

It's A Girl- Mychel Danna (The Time Traveler's Wife)

I'll Stand By You- Josh Groban, Helene Fischer

The Miracle of Love- Eurythmics

Commentary:

The first four songs cover June’s escape attempt and the time they share at the Boston Globe.

"Incomplete" is Nick's POV from when she's on the run and he knows she'll be gone from his life soon. He lives in the moment.

I don't wanna look down

I don't want us to break up in the clouds

All I want is to stay us, to stay with you now

"I'll Be Your Shelter" is for when June's mental health is at its lowest point and he goes to Serena to beg for her to get June help.

What you need is a friend to count on

What you got baby you got someone

Who will stay when the rain is fallin'

And won't let it fall on you

P.S. I Love You takes me back to episode 2.09, Nick’s selflessness in the episode and of course the scene where after telling June that Luke loves her, he tells her that he loves her too, despite believing she probably doesn’t feel the same way.

It's A Girl makes me think of the beautiful moment they share during June's false labor when he helps her out of the van and they climb the steps together.

I’ll Stand By You is for 2.10, Nick holding June after she was heartbroken over Hannah and over what the Waterfords did to her and clinging onto him.

Part III- Season 3, next 6 songs:

Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close- Alexandre Desplat (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close)

All I Ask- Adele

Never Enough- Loren Allred (The Greatest Showman)

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever- Taylor Swift, ZAYN (Fifty Shades Darker)

Love is Gone- SLANDER, Dylan Matthew

Constellations- The Oh Hellos

Commentary:

For obvious reasons, it was extremely difficult to pick songs for this season.

The first (instrumental) song is for the beginning of the season with June coming back to the Waterford house and them then saying goodbye to each other on the street.

All I Ask, Never Enough, I Don't Wanna Live Forever and Love Is Gone are for their night together in June’s room at Lawrence’s (the one we didn’t get to see sigh). They know it's possible it's all they'll ever have, and they'll take it, but it'll never be enough.

I will leave my heart at the door I won't say a word They've all been said before, you know So why don't we just play pretend? Like we're not scared of what's coming next Or scared of having nothing left

Look, don't get me wrong I know there is no tomorrow All I ask is

If this is my last night with you Hold me like I'm more than just a friend Give me a memory I can use Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do It matters how this ends 'Cause what if I never love again?

***

All the shine of a thousand spotlights

All the stars we steal from the night sky

Will never be enough

Never be enough

Towers of gold are still too little

These hands could hold the world but it'll

Never be enough

Never be enough

***

I'm sorry, don't leave me, I want you here with me

I know that your love is gone

I can't breathe, I'm so weak, I know this isn't easy

Don't tell me that your love is gone

That your love is gone

"Constellations" is for their long separation and the doubts that I'm sure plagued them both during it. Would they ever see each other again?

Part IV- S4, next 12 songs:

All of Me- John Legend

(Everything I do) I Do It For You- Bryan Adams

Iris- Natalie Taylor (City of Angels)

She Was Like A Bright Light- Hans Zimmer, Rupert Greyson-Williams (Winter’s Tale)

Noah's Last Letter- Aaron Zigman (The Notebook)

What’s In The Middle- the bird and the bee (Bones)

ivy- Taylor Swift

Footprints in the Sand- Leona Lewis

Remember Me (Lullaby)- Gael Garcia Bernal, Gabriella Flores (Coco)

On The Nature Of Daylight- Max Richter

My Heart Will Go On- Basil Jose (Titanic)

The Story- Sara Ramirez (Grey's Anatomy)

Commentary:

There were sooo many songs I wanted to include in part IV, but I controlled myself and ended up with this particular dozen.

"She Was Like A Bright Light" and "Noah’s Last Letter" are an instrumental double punch to the gut for Nick’s time in Gilead during episodes 4.07-4.09. The first one is meant for when he finds out June made it to Canada, and the 2nd for is for when he starts to gather info on Hannah to give to June.

"What’s in the Middle" and "ivy" are June’s POV of episodes 4.07-4.09.

"What's In The Middle" has more of an angry and confused vibe, and June was definitely both in episodes 7 and 8.

Losing your head is such a common theme

All your brains are falling out, falling out the open seams

Where is the heart, is the heart of the matter

I will empty out my skull of all this useless chatter

On the other hand, "ivy" has this haunted vibe, but there's also reverence and acceptance, which she begins to achieve in episode 9.

Oh, goddamn

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't

Stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows

And now I'm covered in you

The next three songs are of course all for their reunion in 4.09, and I couldn’t resist including the song that was actually played in the scene.

"The Story" draws the season to a close nicely, with June understanding that her current needs are different from what they used to be and that there’s someone who understands her completely (and it’s not Luke).

You see the smile that's on my mouth

It's hiding the words that don't come out

And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed

They don't know my head is a mess

No, they don't know who I really am

And they don't know what I've been through like you do

And I was made for you

Part V- Season 5 and Beyond, the last 6 songs

Secret Love Song- Little Mix, Jason Derulo

Burn With You- Lea Michele

The Bones- Maren Morris

Feels Like Home- Auli'i Carvalho, Keegan DeWitt

Love Will Find A Way- Piano Covers (Lion King II)

Like I'll Never Love You Again- Carrie Underwood

“Secret Love Song” is a more angsty tune about a love that’s still kept a secret like June and Nick’s love (as far as most people are concerned). Now that they’ve already made out in front of the man who raped and abused June and made Nick watch him do that, I want to believe they can let go of the secrecy in S5, at least when it comes to a few people.

I'm living for that day Someday Can I hold you in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dancefloor? I wish that we could be like that Why can't we it be like that? Cause I'm yours, I'm yours Why can't you hold me in the street? Why can't I kiss you on the dancefloor? I wish that it could be like that Why can't it be like that? Cause I'm yours Why can't I say that I'm in love? I wanna shout it from the rooftops I wish that it could be like that Why can't we be like that? Cause I'm yours Why can't we be like that? Wish we could be like that

***

“Bones” is about a relationship with a strong foundation, which IMO they do have. It will carry them in the future, too. They’re more into each other now than ever before and especially June is coming to terms with how strong that love is. They’ll weather any storm.

When the bones are good, the rest don't matter

Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter

Let it break 'cause you and I remain the same

When there ain't a crack in the foundation

Baby, I know any storm we're facing

Will blow right over while we stay put

The house don't fall when the bones are good

***

“Feels Like Home” is more hopeful. Their home is with each other and I hope that’s something that will be explored more in the future.

Take me, I'm ready

Go slow but go steady

To a place that we can call our own

I wanna know what feels like home

***

“Like I’ll Never Love You Again” is a good conclusion for the playlist. It’s hopeful and a testament to an epic love.

I wanna love you like the rain on a roof

Stronger than a bottle of a hundred ten proof

I wanna take love to places that love has never been

Yeah, I wanna love you like I'll never love you again

And I'll love you again

Oh, and again

[fearsmagazine]

Batwoman: The Complete Second Season - Arrives on Blu-ray & DVD September 21, 2021

Contains All 18 Exhilarating Episodes from the Second Season, Plus All-New Special Features!

Watch as Javicia Leslie takes on the mantle of DC Super Hero Batwoman, when Batwoman: The Complete Second Season arrives on Blu-ray and DVD on September 21, 2021 from Warner Bros. Home Entertainment. Strap yourself in for a thrilling ride with all 18 episodes from the second season, plus never-before-seen bonus content including deleted scenes and a gag reel. Batwoman: The Complete Second Season is priced to own at $39.99 SRP for the DVD ($44.98 in Canada) and $44.98 SRP for the Blu-ray ($49.99 in Canada), which includes a Digital Copy (U.S. only). Batwoman: The Complete Second Season is also available to own on Digital via purchase from digital retailers, and to stream on HBO Max starting July 27, 2021.

At the end of the first season, Crows Commander Kane (Dougray Scott) has declared war on Batwoman, forcing everyone around them to choose sides. Season two kicks off with a major game-changer that alters Gotham City and The Bat Team forever. A new hero emerges from the shadows. Relatable, messy, loyal, and a little goofy, Ryan Wilder (Leslie) couldn’t be more different than the woman who wore the Batsuit before her, billionaire Kate Kane. Living in her van, Ryan has been made to feel trapped and powerless by the system her whole life and believes the Batsuit is the key to breaking out of it. But what she’ll come to discover is that it’s not the suit that makes Ryan Wilder powerful, it’s the woman inside of it who finds her destiny in changing Gotham City for good. 

With Blu-ray’s unsurpassed picture and sound, Batwoman: The Complete Second Season Blu-ray release will include 1080p Full HD Video with DTS-HD Master Audio for English 5.1. Featuring all 18 episodes from the second season in high definition, as well as a digital code of the season (available in the U.S. only).

Batwoman stars Javicia Leslie (God Friended Me), Rachel Skarsten (Birds of Prey, Reign), Meagan Tandy (unREAL, Teen Wolf), Nicole Kang (You), Camrus Johnson (The Sun Is Also a Star) and Dougray Scott (Departure, Snatch). Based on characters created for DC by Bob Kane with Bill Finger, Batwoman is produced by Berlanti Productions in association with Warner Bros. Television with executive producers Greg Berlanti (Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl), Caroline Dries (The Vampire Diaries, Smallville), Geoff Johns (DC’s Stargirl, The Flash, Titans), Sarah Schechter (Arrow, The Flash, Supergirl), James Stoteraux and Chad Fiveash (Gotham, The Vampire Diaries). 

BLU-RAY & DVD FEATURES

• Deleted Scenes (Exclusive to Blu-ray and DVD) • Gag Reel (Exclusive to Blu-ray and DVD) • Villains Analyzed • Never Alone: Heroes and Allies

18 ONE-HOUR EPISODES 1. Whatever Happened to Kate Kane? 2. Prior Criminal History 3. Bat Girl Magic! 4. Fair Skin, Blue Eyes 5. Gore on Canvas 6. Do Not Resuscitate 7. It's Best You Stop Digging 8. Survived Much Worse 9. Rule #1 10. Time Off for Good Behavior 11. Arrive Alive 12. Initiate Self Destruct 13. I’ll Give You a Clue 14. …And Justice For All 15. Armed and Dangerous 16. Rebirth 17. Kane, Kate 18. Power

DIGITAL

Batwoman: The Complete Second Season is available to own on Digital. Digital purchase allows consumers to instantly stream and download all episodes to watch anywhere and anytime on their favorite devices. Digital movies and TV shows are available from various digital retailers including Amazon Video, iTunes, Google Play, Vudu and others.

BASICS

Street Date: September 21, 2021 Order Due Date: August 17, 2020 BD and DVD Presented in 16x9 widescreen format Running Time: Feature: Approx 793 min Enhanced Content: Approx 55 min

DVD

Price: $39.99 SRP ($44.98 in Canada) 4-Discs (4 DVD-9s) Audio – English (5.1) Subtitles – English SDH

BLU-RAY

Price: $44.98 SRP ($49.99 in Canada)3-Discs (3 BD-50s)Audio – DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 – EnglishBD Subtitles – English SDH

[snailg0th]

Mj’s Ultimate Political Reading List (that isn’t just crusty russian dudes)

Hello! Today I’m going to give you a list of books that I recommend that revolve around leftist politics!

Malcolm X Speaks by Malcolm X

Women, Culture, and Politics by Angela Davis

Women, Race, & Class by Angela Davis

Freedom is a Constant Struggle by Angela Davis

The Meaning of Freedom by Angela Davis

Abolition Democracy by Angela Davis

Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis

The Prison Industrial Complex by Angela Davis

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde

Gender Trouble by Judith Butler

Performative Acts and Gender Constitution by Judith Butler

Imitation and Gender Insubordination by Judith Butler

Bodies That Matter by Judith Butler

Excitable Speech by Judith Butler

Undoing Gender by Judith Butler

The Souls Of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois

Black Reconstruction In America by W.E.B. Du Bois

Darkwater by W.E.B. Du Bois

This Bridge Called My Back by Cherríe Moraga

Ain’t I A Woman? by Bell Hooks

Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx

Socialism: Utopian and Scientific by Fredrich Engles

Fascism: What is it and How to Fight it by Leon Trotsky

Profit over People by Noam Chomsky

The Accumulation of Capital by Rosa Luxemborg

Reform or Revolution by Rosa Luxemburg

The Conquest of Bread by Peter Kropotkin

Discipline and Punish by Michel Foucault

Black Skins, White Masks and The Wretched of the Earth by Frantz Fanon

Orientalism by Edward Said

An Introduction to Marxist Economic Theory by Ernest Mandel

The Affluent Society by John Kenneth Galbraith

The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir

Anarchism and Other Essays by Emma Goldman

Go Tell It On The Mountain by James Baldwin

Black Women, Writing, And Identity by Carole Boyce Davies

Feminism Without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practicing Solidarity by Chandra Talpade Mohanty

An End To The Neglect Of The Problems Of The Negro Women by Claudia Jones

Left of Karl Marx: The Political Life Of Black Communist Claudia Jones by Carole Boyce Davies

The Postmodern Condition by Jean François Lyotard

Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher

Colonize This! by Daisy Hernandez and Bushra Rehman

Socialism Made Easy by James Connolly

Bad Feminist by Roxanne Gay 

The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander

The Sacred Hoop by Paula Gunn Allen

Black Feminist Thought by Patricia Hill Collins

Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower by Dr. Brittney Cooper

Heavy: An American Memoir by Kiese Laymon

How To Be An Antiracist by Dr. Ibram X. Kendi

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

Notes Of A Native Son by James Baldwin

Biased: Uncover in the Hidden Prejudice That Shapes What We See, Think, and Do

Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America 

The Color of Law: The Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America

A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Mary Wollstonecraft

The Socialist Reconstruction of Society by Daniel De Leon

7 Feminist And Gender Theories 

The Second Founding: How the Civil War and Reconstruction Remade the Constitution

Invisible No More: Police Violence Against Black Women and Women of Color by Andrea J. Ritchie

Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson

Lavender and Red by Emily K. Hobson

Raising Our Hands by Jenna Arnold

Redefining Realness by Janet Mock 

The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin

The Next American Revolution: Sustainable Activism for the Twenty-First Century by Grace Lee Boggs

The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

When Affirmative Action Was White: An Untold History of Racial Inequality in Twentieth-Century America by Ira Katznelson

Whistling Vivaldi: How Stereotypes Affects Us and What We Can Do

The Common Wind by Julius S. Scott

The End Of Policing by Alex S Vitale

Class, Race, and Marxism by David R. Roediger

Yearning by Bell Hooks 

Race, Gender, And Class by Margaret L Anderson 

Ezili’s Mirrors: Imagining Black Queer Genders by Omise’eke Natasha Tinsley 

Working At The Intersections: A Black Feminist Disability Framework” by Moya Bailey 

Theory by Dionne Brand

Dora Santana's Work by Dora Santana

Property by Karl Marx

Wages, Price, and Profit by Karl Marx

Wage-Labor and Capital by Karl Marx

Capital Volume I by Karl Marx

The 1844 Manuscripts by Karl Marx

Synopsis of Capital by Fredrich Engels

The Principals of Communism by Fredrich Engles

Imperialism, The Highest Stage Of Capitalism by Vladmir Lenin

The State And Revolution by Vladmir Lenin

The Revolution Betrayed by Leon Trotsky

On Anarchism by Noam Chomsky

[wouldpollyapprove]

Jezebel

Summary: Thomas Shelby is a man who is used to getting what he wants no matter the price. He’s willing to play any game as he knows he will be the one to come out on top. But when someone knew walks into his life, he is left with nothing but loses as he is forced to come to terms with the fact that he was not the winner at the table.

Based on Jezebel by Herman’s Hermits

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Alcohol

A/N: I did this as apart of @vicmackeybullshxt songfic challenge. It’s taken me forever to actually get to it, but I love the idea I came up with and am very proud of this, you may need to look at the song lyrics to better understand how the two relate. I believe this is one of my longest fics and I’m really happy with how this turned out. Tommy’s a dumb bitch and I think this would definitely happen (if Grace was smarter, it could have). And this takes place between season one and two.

Masterlist

London was always a drag. Full of business, bullets, and boring meetings. Thomas Shelby may have raised through the ranks of class, but the decadent life gifted to the dukes and duchesses, lords and ladies, those with barely an ounce of royal blood in their veins, was one he couldn’t have with his line of work. Though he tried to do things legally, not everyone complied to his demands and often things had to be taken by force, blood on his hands. Tommy didn’t mind if it got the job done as long as he was no longer the gypsy scum people walked all over. 

Finding himself bored, he took his brothers to one of London’s fanciest clubs one night. All the rich in the city often found their way through the crowded club, reserving a table so they could get a grand view of the club's singer: Y/n Y/l/n. In her cherry red dress and golden heels, she was a siren to the crowd. Pulling them in and stealing their souls with the voice that floated threw the air, tickling their ears. 

Like the masses, Tommy found himself pulled in, dazzled by the woman that stood before him on the large stage, a swing band made of golden instruments creating a backdrop behind her. But none of the performers grabbed his attention like she did. Y/e/c eye’s landed on him, crimson red lips turned up in a smile as the pair locked eyes. Heat raised to his cheeks, making them burn and his heart ceased to beat, breath caught in his throat. Batting her eyes at him, Y/n winked before finishing off the last notes of her song. When the note hit people’s ears, she was greeted with a chorus of applause and cheers as she waltzed off the stage. 

“Tom, what ya lookin’ at?” John teased him as he fiddled with his cigar. His brother blinked, the space that had been filled by a goddess moments ago was empty. There was nothing left but the band and a microphone. 

Reaching for his drink, straight whiskey, the man knew nothing better, Tommy sighed as his heart once again beat against his rib cage. He’d known love, known it in many forms. There was the love for his family, one he believed he was born with. The love he held for Greta… the one that made his heart skip a beat. Then there was the intoxicating love that was Grace Burgess. Even the simple thought of her, a whiff of what smelled like her perfume, had him spiralling all day off a momentary high. But none of those loves, not a single one, compared to how he felt when his eyes locked with Y/n Y/l/n’s. 

The world around him was lost, devoured by a dense fog that had surrounded him. The gangster didn’t care about the next act, the entertainment he knew wouldn’t compare to what he’d witnessed moments before. “I'll be back,” he said, discarding his glass and standing from the table. 

He had to find the siren. 

Y/n sat in front of her vanity mirror, brushing her curls. They bounced back into form with each stroke, glistening under the heavy lights. Staring at her own reflection, she ran her tongue across the top of her lips. Growing up a shy and tucked away child, never had she thought she would spend her nights stealing men's hearts, but there she was. It was a thrill, really, power she never believed she’d possessed in her life. The woman that stared back at her was mighty and tall, what she imagined a modern amazonian would be depicted as. 

A sigh parted her lips as she rested her elbows on the counter, turning her brush over in her hands. Y/n hadn’t been in London long, but it’d been long enough for her. Not one of gypsy blood, the fact didn’t stop her from dreaming of wide open fields, the heart of a song bird in her soul. She dreamed of traveling in the dead of night or the heat of the day. The young woman didn’t care where she was to go, anything was better than staying put in a forgein city. 

But there was a job to be done, one Y/n thought would have been done sooner.

Moving on from her hair, she opened her makeup bag and pulled out her favorite lipstick and reapplied it for her next act. Glancing at the mirror, Y/n smiled at the man who was leaning in the doorway. She’d caught his eye before fleeing from the stage, thought he was a looker if she were to be honest, but never thought he’d think the same of her. At least, she thought that was the reason he’d abandon his drink to visit her. “Enjoy what you see,” she smiled, meeting his eyes in the mirror as she closed the tube of lipstick.

The man nodded and pushed himself into the room. “I believe everyone does when their eyes land on you,” he shrugged as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his dress suit. 

Y/n hummed, turning to face him and laid her arms on the back of her seat. Getting a full view of the dark haired man, Y/n could tell he had deep pockets. Now, she was no tailor, but she knew an expensive suit when she saw one and that’s what the stranger wore. With his sharp features, she could look at him all day, get lost in his ocean eyes and run her hands through his hair until her fingers hurt, but then she wondered… what did he look like without his posh suit? “May I ask what you’re doing here…”

“Tommy,” he indulged, striking a match, a thin trail of smoke traveling towards the ceiling. 

The singer nodded with a satisfied smile, “Tommy?”

There was silence as Tommy lit his cigarette and shook the flame off the match. Once he took a drag, he peered down at her. “I would like to buy you a drink. If that’s alright with you, that is,” he added and waited for her response. 

She wanted to scuff, she really did. From how he held himself and the boldness of his words, it wasn’t hard to see he came from a world where no one told him no. Y/n wanted to be the first to deny him what he could almost have, but… the words wouldn’t leave her tongue. Thinking of the world he would surround her in, she couldn’t pass the stranger’s offer up. Not only was he lovely on the eyes, making her yearn for his touch, but he would do wonders for her wallet and that mattered more than anything. 

“My last session in ten minutes,” she informed him, biting her lip. “How ‘bout after?” The man seemed content with her suggestion, nodding, but Y/n wasn’t sure if it was more for her or himself. 

Leaning forward, Tommy placed his hands near her’s, their faces inches apart. “I’ll be waiting,” he whispered with a smirk.

Y/n barely suppressed her gasp as he turned on his heels and vanished from sight. Cheeks hot, she fanned herself with one hand as a laugh escaped her lips. 

It would be nothing short of an entertaining night, that she knew.

Polly groaned as her nephew came into view, the perfect nightmare dressed as daydream by his side in a golden dress that clung to the woman’s hips. Tommy had been infatuated by Y/n, the singer who never strayed from his mind, but he was that way with all women. Any woman intrigued him so long as she wasn’t like any that had passed him on the streets of Small Heath when he was a child. A man desperate for the finer, more exotic, things of life, Mr. Thomas Shelby wanted no village or dirt caked woman. He wanted what others couldn’t have and that was what Y/n was.

Of course, Tommy loved her. 

It was evident in the glint in his eyes when she walked in the room and how his breath caught in the back of his throat, like it had when he’d first laid eyes on her, when he thought of her. But not all love is good, that Polly had learned the hard way. Just as her nephew would have to.

“This is lovely,” Y/n mused, hanging onto her boyfriend’s arm. She’d been to only a handful of gala’s, but nothing could compare to the one the mayor of Birmingham had invited the Shelby family to. Though she wasn’t their kin and their last name wasn’t her own, Tommy insisted she accompany him. It would be dull without her, that’s what he’d said when he asked a few weeks earlier. 

Tommy hummed, eyes on her, watching how the lights danced on her skin, making it glow. Since the moment he’d laid eyes on her, it had become hard for him to rip them away. No matter what else deserved his attention, Y/n deserved it more. It drove his family mad yet he didn’t care. 

“Tommy, are you even listening?” she asked, looking up at him with a pout.

“I’m always listening to you, love,” he told her with a smile, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “What were you saying?”

She huffed, feeling the eyes of his aunt on her from across the room. “You’re aunt doesn’t like me, I don’t think it would go over well if I went to the family meeting with you,” she confessed, spotting a handsome man from across the room who was eyeing her up.

The words that jumped off her tongue were all to save face, Y/n didn’t care whose feathers were ruffled with her appearance at the next Shelby family meeting. She’d wiggled her way into Tommy’s heart and she would make her place in his life nice and comfortable. That, of course, had become a challenge once his aunt stepped into her way, putting her foot down. No matter the hold she held over her boyfriend, her candy sweet words weren’t always convincing when Polly was in the room. The two didn’t necessarily butt heads, but they both detested each other, leaving a foal taste in each other’s mouths once either left the room.

When Y/n convinced Tommy to let her work for him, he’d been on board, willing to move Lizzie to the betting shop so she could be his secretary. Internally, Polly was up in arms about the idea, but she didn’t dare voice her true opinion, remember the defensive man that was her nephew. Instead, she convinced her nephew that if he truly loved Y/n, then he would want her out of harm's way. Her wellbeing was more important to him than anything, so Y/n ended up spending her days in his lavish house, a beautiful sum of money left to her in place of a paycheck. There was little to complain about, she was still bleeding him dry, but it simply put a dent in her plans, no matter how small it was.

Guiding her through the crowd, the man came to a stop at the bar, ordering himself whiskey and her wine. “Don’t worry about Polly. Or any of them for that matter,” he assured her, taking his drink before placing a glass of wine in her hands. “Soon you’ll be a Shelby like the rest of us; My wife and a part of this family. They’ll have to accept you.”

Tommy didn’t catch the groan that escaped her lips at the thought of marrying him. There was nothing else that could make her last meal reappear better than the thought of being his wife. That title would be chains around her ankles, keeping her in the walls of his home. No matter how much he claimed to love her, Y/n didn’t feel the same and couldn’t stand the thought of being weighed down by him. 

“When do you leave for London?” she inquired, wishing her glass was full of something stronger as she changed the subject and that she was hanging onto the arm of the man she had seen earlier.

Tilting his head, he sighed, “Tomorrow. I wish you could come with me.” Y/n leaned against him, resting her head against his arm.

“How long will you be gone?”

“Two days.”

From across the room, Polly caught the devilish grin that spread across Y/n’s face. She didn’t like the woman, viewing her as a snake, cut from an almost identical cloth as Grace Burgess, but she had to hand it to her. Whatever Y/n was planning, she was doing a wonderful job of getting the stones rolling. The bitch had Tommy wrapped around her finger. Being one of the most powerful men in the United Kingdom, second to the king, nothing would be out of her reach for long with the tight hold she had on him. But Polly Gray would be waiting, like a wolf in the night, she would be waiting for Y/n to take a risk and end up with a broken neck when she was caught, sharp teeth clamped around her neck.

The day Tommy was to leave, Y/n made sure to have her day filled, no room for error or abrupto events. There were to be no interruptions and no suspicion. Deciding to spend the morning shopping, Tommy dropped her off before he set off to London, giving her a kiss that wasn’t returned before she stepped out of the car. Y/n waved as he drove away, wearing the diamonds he’d given her that morning. A little going away present, how sweet.

Turning on her heels, cold daggers replaced her warm orbs, and she began to browse the shops, spending all the money she could, wishing to leave her purse empty. It would be full once again come nightfall. Y/n picked out a couple evening dresses, one red and the other green. To match, she bought a few heels, it couldn’t hurt to have options, now could it? Moving on to a jewelry store, she threw Tommy’s hard earned cash on the desk and demanded to see the most expensive item they had.

A diamond necklace with an emerald center sat on her neck, a matching pair of earrings in her ears, as she walked down the streets of Birmingham to the filth of Small Heath. Now, she had grown up in a similar place, but working her way up in the world, Y/n couldn’t understand how people could sit in such filth, growing older without trying to better themselves. Get out of the hell they had been born into. The sun was on the brink of setting and from what had been divulged to her the night before, everyone would be at the Garrison celebrating a big transaction. 

Things couldn’t be more perfect.

Just a shadow in the night, Y/n unlocked the betting shop door with the key Tommy had given her once she’d moved into Arrow house. Even if she wasn’t to work there, he wanted her to be a part of every aspect of his life, a mistake on his part, and that meant letting her into places that she didn’t belong. The lock clicked and she turned the nobb, the door creaking as it opened. She was hit by the pungent smell of cigarettes and whiskey as she stepped into the building, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. For the first time, she was glad Polly didn’t trust her enough to want to work for the family, who would want to smell like a drunk without having touch a drop of liquor? 

Setting her bags by the door, Y/n navigated the small building, trying to picture the verbal map Tommy had given her once of the building’s layout. With his words as a guide, she passed desks and walked through doorways until she stood in front of the thick door of the company safe. Never had she been told what it contained, but she wasn’t a child and needed no explanation, her wildest dreams were behind that door.

Before her was a vault that held her freedom. The ticket to a world she missed, the people she longed for, and the person she wanted to kiss and never let go of. It was everything that would set her for life, let her live like a queen until the day she died.

With a grin on her lips, she dug threw her pocket for a tiny piece of paper, holding it in her hands, she unfolded it to reveal a set of numbers. Carefully, Y/n turned the dial on the door until she heard the heavenly sound of the gears click into place and she was able to pull it open, revealing stacks of bills and cloth bags with the same items. Rubbing her hands together, her eyes darted around the vault, what was she to grab first?

Shrugging, Y/n waltzed into the small room and started pulling the bags off the shelve and threw them onto the cold wood floor. “What a fucking fool,” she laughed, it was foolish of Tommy to give her the vault code. The fact he never raised a brow when she asked, never questions her motives or reasons. His lover didn’t work for him, there was no need for her to possess the numbers, but Thomas Shelby was a fool. And in a fool’s fashion, he jotted the numbers down for her, never questioning the destruction that could be caused with such information as he handed it to her. 

Polly tapped her foot violently against the floor, hands on her hips with nostrils flared. She’d been the first in the office that morning, putting on a pot of tea and getting everything in order before the rest of the office arrived. Pulling out a few files, the woman placed them on her desk before going to fetch the log book. With that tucked by her side, she went to open the vault, smiling when a click hit her ears and she was able to pull it open. The smile was whipped off her face as if a train had passed by at the sight in front of her.

“What are we going to do, Tommy?” his aunt asked him as he racked a hand through his hair, standing in front of the empty vault. 

The man, supposed to be the leader of the family, was at a loss for words. For once in his life, Thomas Shelby didn’t know what to do. He’d arrived back at Arrow house happy to see his girlfriend, hoping to surprise her with an expensive ring he had tucked in his back pocket, ready to make her an official Shelby. But every nook and cranny was searched and she was nowhere to be found. Francis said Y/n had plans the evening before and probably stayed with Ada. Ringing his sister, Ada was home alone with Karl, having received no visitors the night before. And then… Polly called and he was forced to deal with the mess in front of him.

“Well, Thomas, are you going to say something or stand there like a frightened child?” the woman threw her arms up, wondering what mess his cock would get the family into next.

“It wasn’t her… it couldn’t have been,” he muttered, noting that over two hundred thousand pounds were missing from the shelves. Sucking in a breath, Tommy knew who had taken the money, whether he wanted to admit it or not, Y/n was the only one unaccounted for and he’d made the mistake of giving her the vault code.

Moving from her place behind him, Polly walked to the nearest desk and picked up the phone. “Who could it have been, the fucking King of England? Don’t be naive, boy,” she spat and picked up the ear piece. Placing it against her ear, she announced, “I’m phoning the police, they’ll be more help then a fool in love.”

The words stung Tommy’s ears, being nothing but the cold hard truth. He’d ignored any harm Grace had done in the short time they were together. He wanted to believe that love meant more than anything and that no harm would come to him with that mindset, he was mistaken. There would always be harm whether he was a gangster or a lovesick boy untouched by war. Willingly, Tommy had let Y/n in, given her the whole fuckign world, his heart with it, and let her break everything around him until it all came crashing down. He was a fool, plain and simple, what he would always be when it came to love.

Unbeknownst to the Shelbys, Y/n would never be found, neither would the money. Hopping on a train to France that night, suitcases full of money by her side, she set off for Greece, arriving four days later.

Stretching her arms out, she made herself a cup of tea and made her way through the quaint house she had settled in. Standing in the doorway to the balcony, a smile spread her lips when she caught sight of the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“Happy to be home?” Cora asked her with a smile as she continued her latest sewing project, the wind whipping her hair around.

Coming to sit beside her, Y/n rested her head on the woman’s shoulder. “I’m happy wherever you are, love.”

Cora hummed, missing the touch of her lover. She didn’t want Y/n to leave, ever, no matter how long it had to be for. But people paid her to do their dirty work and the couple needed money. If she had to watch her girlfriend leave for a few months for them to get a month or two together then she would watch her go.

Y/n pushed a strand of hair behind Cora’s ear, peppering kisses along her exposed shoulder and neck. “You know, we could take a trip to Rome, like you’ve always wanted, with the money we have,” she suggested, the sea gently hitting the rocks below. 

Seagulls flew above, creating a beautiful landscape before them. How the two had found themselves on the coast of the Mediterranean was a mystery to them. But they had made the place home and Y/n didn’t know anywhere she’d rather be. It wasn’t by any means like the home of Thomas Shelby, only one story with a view of the sea, but it was worth more than his. 

“I would love that,” the woman smiled. “Imagine all we’ll see, it will be wonderful.”

Y/n sighed in content, happy to be home, away from the misery of Birmingham and the Shelby family

*~~*~~*

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