#Julie-Wing

[spiritofthemeadow]

ig - afternoondreams

[robiinurheart33]

Ok ok Johnny but he can’t accept the fact that people love him?

First girlfriend. Went south real fast and realised he was gay.

First boyfriend. Was bi-curious. First heartbreak too.

Second boyfriend. Only wanted him for his body. Self explanatory.

Third boyfriend. Way too emotionally unavailable, felt like they weren’t even dating at a point. Turns out he already has a partner.

You get the gist.

At a very young age, Johnny was aware of his unfortunate personality. School fights, family scoldings, bedroom sobbing, it’s all just a blur to him now. It’s not like he had the worst life out there, no. But he can’t shake the fact that he can’t really remember anything about his childhood. The trauma stuck though, unfortunately.

He could never really seem to shake off that “unloveable” blanket on his shoulders.

It’s not that bad, in retrospect. His friends like him, sure. They tolerate him. He knows he’s loud, he knows he’s brash, he’s a lot to deal with! He understands. So every once in a while, he’ll just…back off. Leave everyone alone and just spend some time alone. The horrors do get to him when he’s alone in his room, clutching the fabric of his shirt and trying to get ahold of his breathing, but it’s basically nothing to what everyone else has to endure! He’s selfish, he knows it already, always needy, always wanting. This is the least he can do to make sure that his loved ones aren’t tipped over the boiling point and actually leave him for good.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself at times.

Then he meets ghost.

Powerful, strong, admirable Ghost. He blew his fucking lid. He’s even bigger than the rumours suggest. He’s professional, clean. He’s everything that Soap wishes to be.

He’s jealous right off the bat. How could he not be?

Honestly, he feels a bit bad for the guy at the start. Soap’s laying it on thick with the touching and the questions. He’s obviously fucking with him a bit, bit to be fair he’s not really doing much to stop him either. As time goes on, it becomes a weird sort of admiration/jealousy thing. He still is jealous of Ghost, but not to an extreme extent that he could be.

Ghost is another very peculiar case, one that Soap doesn’t seem to mind prodding. After a few missions together, he could see why he was so infamous. But still, Ghost wasn’t pushing back. Has anyone done this to him before? Why was he just letting this happen? Ghost might find him weird, sure, but he’s the most curious disturbing motherfucker soap’s ever met.

The army isn’t exactly a place to find someone to get their dick wet, homophobes around the corner at every turn. Soap’s just accepted it as part of life now, not really wanting to think much on it but having that fact lurk at the back of his mind. It’s a bit depressing, sure, to not have anyone get to know his actual self, but then again he was sure that anyone who truly got to know him wouldn’t talk to him ever again. If it’s not the gay thing, it’s the army thing. If its not the army thing, it the personality thing. Whatever. John’s gotten used to it.

However, though some unexplainable force (the SAS and Price), Soap and Ghost had become some sort of dynamic duo now. They’d fought together, lost together, gone through some of the most horrific weathers known to man, and they’d both survived under some miracle. Well, soap survived. He never doubted ghost would.

He got very close though. Way too close for Soap’s liking. They were in some fuck-ass country upside down the earth, down to his last mag and ghost clipped in the shoulder. They were hauling ass just- away. They didn’t know when exfil would get there, or where. Their main objective was just to survive. Ghost was making a very vulnerable wheezing sound from his throat and Soap’s gun was overheating, burning though his gloves.

“Soap- Sargent.” Ghost whispered, somehow always remaining calm in the most chaotic situation Soap’s been in so far. Either that, or he’s just really fuckin tired.

“No’ now, L.T, tryna get us to safety.”

“Soap, leave me behind.”

“What? Listen, I’ve got no time for your stupid heroism crap, okay? Just- shut up.”

“MacTavish, im serious. I have nothing waiting for me. I’ll be okay. Just go. Stay safe.”

“Whot the hell did i just say?” He snapped, turning towards him. “I’ve go’ no time for this. You’re coming wit me whether you like it or not.” Soap jabs a finger into his chest, leaning in close until he’s sure Ghost can see the faintest scar on his right eyebrow from screwing around with a razor with his friends, trying to give himself a eyebrow slit.

“You’ve got me, haven’t ya? You’ve got Price, and the people on your team are counting on you. I’m counting on you. So you can die somewhere else, in the bumfuck a’ nowhere, but you’re not allowed to die today, now. Ya hear me?”

Like this, gunpowder and dust making his nose itchy, looking intensely at Ghost to make sure his point is drive home, there’s a look in his eyes that soap thinks he’s never seen before. He- he kinda looks like-

How Soap looks at Ghost.

With admiration.

Oh.

So, yeah. They ran out of there on the air of their asses, Soap laughing as the final hits of adrenaline pulses his heart, Ghost leaning against him with the same look in his eye, and they’ve never exactly been the same after that.

Soap chalked it off as it being in the heat of the moment kinda thing, but he’s been consistently catching Ghost’s eye staring at him from a distance away, just staring, with that strange look in his eye. Not always with the same emotion, Soap guesses, but still. It’s close enough. He doesnt know what’s happening, or what he did, but something changed. And it’s driving him insane. It’s not that Ghost wasn’t already friendly in his own weird ghost way, but now he’s being friendly in a normal way.

It’s so weird.

He’ll be waiting at the gun range for Soap like he knows he’d appear there, toss him an apple when he feels peckish, slap his hand away when he needs to change bandages muttering something about him not doing it properly. It’s weird, and it’s nice, and it’s making soap feel all itchy and hot. he can’t even scratch himself anymore as a soothing tick, Ghost will just slap his hand away and grumble a “stop that.”

It’s weird, and soap can’t help but enjoy it.

He feels a bit selfish, feeling like he’s somehow taking advantage of ghost’s kindness, but for what? He’s feeling guilty but what exactly is he being selfish about? Maybe a mental checkup is in order, he’s losing his mind a bit. They’re friends, that’s all. It’s not…that unheard of that ghost would have friends, isn’t it? He should feel honoured to be his…fist? Again, Soap doesn’t know a lot about him.

Time passes. He dips his toes in guerrilla warfare for the first time, can’t say he’s a fan. Been backstabbed, shot, and survived. Hes earned his nickname, and sticks by it. (Hah) Though thick and thin, Ghost’s been there throughout it all. An angel guiding him to the churches, a leader who he would follow to the pits of hell, a friend when he needed one. After all that, the questions just never seemed to slow down. About his family, himself, his hobbies… to keep him awake, to pass the time, just whenever. Mostly Soap would get grumbles and short answers, proper sentences if he’s in the mood (which is all the time) or drunk enough. He’s flustered under all the attention and he knows it, itching beneath the helmet and the layers of armour. Soap is brash, and loud, and a little bit of a pyromaniac. He knows it. He’s fine with it. All jagged edges, no slowing down in sight. He doesnt know what to do with the change coming. He does the only thing he knows to do. He runs. After all of it is said and done, with makarov in the streets now, not much is to be done other than waiting for further instruction.

Applies leave for a few days, rented a airbnb online, have some alone time. Reset. Easy. Simple. Hes done this all his life. But when he was just about to slip out, Ghost suddenly appeared right in front of him.

“Gah- Jesus, fuck, ghost. What’s wrong?”

“You’re leaving.”

“Yeah, I am. You signed off on the papers.”

“Why?”

“Just…some time. To myself.”

“Is that it?”

“…yeah?” What else does he want me to say?

Ghost looks like he.. squirms a bit, which is weird. Ghost doesn’t squirm.

“Just… the countryside. And stuff.” This is the worst casual conversation he’s ever had with Ghost.

“Um… i got you something.” Then he’s holding something out.

“Huh? Really- this is a rock.” What the fuck.

“It’s a rock from Las Almas.”

“You… kept a rock. From Las Almas. What, you couldn’t have stopped by an actual gift shop just around the corner? I think i saw one right around where i found your knife lodged into-”

“-You done yet?” He snaps.

“Apparently not, sir. You wanna explain the rock?” Soap’s being a bitch.

“Just that… you’re going to be alone… and. Makarov.”

“It’s a legitimate place, ghost. you wont find anyone there.”

“Not just that, it’s like-” He groans slightly and scratches the back of his head. “You’re going to be alone, and the last time you were alone..”

Oh.

“It’s just a reminder that like, I wasn’t going to give it to you this soon but, i was there. With you. You weren’t truly alone, johnny. And.. you’re going to be alone now. Actually alone. And i just….its. I’m here. At Redhill. I’m going to be here. You know where to find me.”

You’ve got me, haven’t ya?

Oh shit.

Soap doesn’t know what to say. He can feel the tip of his ears burning, pricking down his cheeks and flush down his neck. He doesnt know how to stand properly, what to say, how to think. Because everything he;s thinking right now should not be applied to his lieutenant.

This doesn’t mean anything, right? It doesn’t change anything. It’s still the same. Soap knows that Ghost cares about him. He’s his Sargent. He’s his Sargent. But not in that way. They’re friends. The rock from Las Almas. He’s fine. They’re fine. It’s just like the rock is a physical manifestation and real evidence that Ghost may or may not like him. Jesus, he shouldn’t think like that. He’s too quiet. He should say something. His lips twitch.

“Thank you.” THAT’S IT?? SAY MORE.

“I’ll know where to look, then.” Soap gives the most half flustered, half assed smile he’s ever given to anyone. He cant even begin to imagine how he looks right now. His heart pulls. Ghost looks away. He feels like he’s going to be swept off his feet in a bad (good) way.

“Right then.” He clears his throat, disappearing down the corner of the hallway. Soap gapes as he stares after him. What was that? What was him? What? He looks down at the heavier-than-it should-look rock in his sweaty palms, and swallows.

This doesn’t change anything. They’re still working together. They’re the lieutenant and Sargent of the 141 Taskforce. He’s fine. They’re fine.

Everything is okay.

[transformers-earthspark]

New Starscream render/photo leaked!

Source: tfwiki.net

Code: S1C#5337

[5rcane]

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Frank! fantasy flavor!

rambles:

i really wanted to blend that monk-class inspiration w/ Frank's personal vibe... i like to think that i Succeeded!

i turned his tie into a sort of brooch since, yk. bowties aren't all that Fantastical. they miss the style. also i think they'd be more comfortable with something smaller since he's very active and needs a wide range of maneuverability

i bet Eddie or someone wheedled them into adding the leather shoulder pauldrons - leather to keep it a bit more flexy, and also. it just looks Cool!

figuring out what would replace his vest was tough. i didn't want them to be entirely unprotected, but i couldn't give him straight armor. though i will admit! a sort of tight-fitting crop top was Considered! but i landed on a gambeson vest as the best fit - comfortable, flexible, a Vest, while providing some level of protection! also, gambesons are quilted, which fits Frank's diamond-checkered vest!

ive already mentioned that one of my favorite outfit things is Flowy Pants Tucked Into Boots, so... that choice wasn't very character driven. except the boots are a tall ankle wrap - for that extra stability and strength! their shoes are pretty flexible and are only a few steps away from being slippers.

and the half-skirt - open skirt? - thing (still don't know what its called) is purely some self indulgence. i think Frank looks great in skirts!! also imagining him Throwing Down w/ the added flair of the skirt... damn. it'd probably help confuse enemies too - what're they gonna do next? who knows! the skirt is in the way and adding extra Movement!

i like to think that his knife is either in a sheath attached to the back of the belt, or they have it on their thigh (under the skirt) like Wally's bag. he probably never uses it... punching is the way to go for Frank methinks. it's probably reserved for cutting ropes and fruit

speaking of punching.... wrist wraps! inspired by boxing gauze! pads his knuckles, keeps his wrist compressed, its the best choice for physical combat. though the wrapped knuckles probably always have blood showing through anyway... or no yeah it's mostly other people's blood...

as for scars - Frank probably has quite the collection! i imagine that they've been picking fights since a young age, and in such a dangerous world he probably got hit a Lot until they learned how to hit back. and hit back Well. still, i wanted to give him a cool face scar with a very lame backstory - a book with a crisp, sharp spine corner fell off a high shelf and bonked them in the face at juuuust the right angle <3 he probably stays very fucking quiet about it which makes everyone think there's some intense traumatic backstory behind it. there isn't. Frank's just embarrassed.

closing note: i imagine that Frank has zero magic. literally none. cannot wield it for shit cannot utilize it. he's just like Howdy fr

[lulublack90]

Prompt 12 - Gate

@jegulus-microfic July 11, Word count 993

He stared up at the main gate into Hogwarts, seeing it up close for the first time. It was his first Hogsmeade trip as a third year, and he’d decided to walk back to the castle alone. He’d seen the gate as the thestrals pulled the carriages through them, travelling to and from the Hogwarts Express. But he’d never had the time to leisurely admire the ironwork and the stone winged boars that adorned either side. They were some of the ugliest things he’d ever seen, but he could admire the craftsmanship that had gone into carving the stone. 

He found a comfortable place to sit and pulled out a sketchbook to draw them. He didn’t have much in the way of drawing materials. His mother would throw a fit if she found him devoting his time to such frivolous things. So he was stuck with an unlined notebook and a quill that he quickly transfigured back into the muggle pencil he’d snuck out and bought. He’d use them until they were nothing but nubs and sneak out again to get another one. It wasn’t worth buying more than one. If he suddenly had an abundance of quills, someone might end up borrowing one and they’d start asking questions. 

This one was about half used. It would last him until Christmas, he hoped. He put his pencil to paper and began.

He was lost in his work and didn’t hear the approach of a group of students. 

“Hey, Sirius, isn’t that your brother?” Peter called after the bounding boy in front of him. 

“Huh?” Sirius spun around, bringing James Potter with him, who was in a headlock under Sirius’s arm. “Oh, yeah, it is. Oi, Reggie!” He bellowed. Regulus startled and drew a thick pencil line straight through his drawing. He growled at the mess and used his wand to erase the offending line. 

“Go away,” He sneered at his brother as he tried to hide what he was doing, but Sirius was too fast. He snatched the notebook out of Regulus's hands and flipped it open. 

Sirius stared down at the first drawing in the book. It was of the window in the Slytherin Common room when the giant squid had a tentacle creeping across the glass. He flipped through the pages, his brow furrowing more and more. He finally looked up.

“Does Mother know about these?” Regulus thought he heard a touch of concern, but with Sirius, you never knew if it was genuine. 

“No, and nor will she, especially from you,” He snapped, getting into Sirius’s face, and jabbing him with his pencil in the chest. Sirius set his jaw and glared into his brother’s eyes. 

“Wow, these are really good,” Regulus’s head snapped to the person who’d spoken, forgetting all about Sirius. “No, really, they’re beautiful,” James smiled at him, his head at an odd angle as he peered at the upside-down picture in Sirius’s hand. 

“Where do you get the pencils from?” Sirius asked, holding up Regulus’s hand. Regulus snatched it back.

“I sneak out and go to the post office down the road,” Regulus confessed, daring his brother to say anything about it. 

“Wow, Reggie, I’m impressed. How has she not found them yet?” Sirius asked, eyes still on the pencil in Regulus’s hand. 

“I only get one at a time. Now can I have my book back? I want to finish before dinner,” Regulus held out his hand for the notebook. Sirius looked down as though he’d forgotten he still had it. James grabbed it and handed it over. 

“Here,” He said, a big stupid grin on his face. Regulus grimaced. 

“Thanks,” And opened his book back to the page he was working on and continued from where he’d left off. 

“Come on, I’m hungry, let’s go see if we can charm the house elves before dinner,” Remus said quietly, putting an arm around Sirius and leading him away. 

“Remus, I just watched you eat a week’s worth of chocolate. How can you still be hungry?!” Sirius barked out a laugh, but let Remus lead him through the gates and back towards the castle. Peter followed them, chuckling at Remus’s look of shock at Sirius’s statement. 

“They really are beautiful,” James said, leaning over to see the final touches Regulus was adding to the boar’s wings. “Do you really only have one pencil?”

“Yes,” Regulus answered curtly. Why was his brother’s replacement for him still hanging about?

“Alright then, see you around,” James said awkwardly. Regulus nodded at him and he left.

The following morning, an oddly familiar owl landed beside him with a messily wrapped parcel. He took it from the owl, who flew off hooting happily and opened it. Inside was a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. 

He already had a copy, and he hadn’t ordered a new one. He examined it. Something was off. He took his wand out and waved it over the book. The book shuddered and fell open. Inside was a brand-new pencil set. They were all different degrees of hardness. From the thickest dark graphite to the lightest tips that would barely leave a mark. He ran his fingers over them, marvelling at them as they knocked together, making a clicking sound. 

A note was tucked underneath the pencils. He plucked it from the box and read the words written there in a messy, heavy hand. 

‘From your not-so-secret admirer. I hope I’ll get a peek at whatever you create from these. Enjoy, James.’ 

He couldn’t believe that the boy he’d never shown anything but contempt for would send him such a thoughtful gift. But right now he didn’t care. He took out his notebook and started sketching the black lake and mountains surrounding it with his brand-new pencil set. It was already looking better than anything he’d ever drawn before. Maybe he’d send it to Potter as a thank you. Maybe not. He’d decide later.  

[writer-at-the-table]

The pilot does open with a conversation about Josh's Capital Beat screw up, but it's worth noting that our introduction to Josh as a character is actually him advocating for rescuing the Cuban refugees.

He exhibits worry about his job a few times throughout the episode, but the moments when he gets fired up are when he's talking about the refugee situation, and when he's angry at the idea of the administration giving in to the radical right.

It tells you a lot about his values.

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

@jegulus-microfic, July 4th - Wings, G, Word Count - 500

Although James' favourite holiday was Christmas, he had a pretty big soft spot for halloween. He loved dressing up and, when he was young, challenging his friends on who can get the most candy. (Marlene almost always won, James was fast but she was fast and cute.)

Even though Regulus didn't like most holidays. (The majority of them excuses for his parents to force him into stuffy suits and participate in family reunions.) The one that evaded this treatment was Halloween, the closest 'favourite' he has. Sure he wasn't allowed to dress up or go trick-or-treating, but Sirius always bought them small boxes of chocolates to eat and they shared ghost stories long into the nights.

So when James proposed that the both of them should wear matching costumes for halloween, Regulus was opposed to it at first. It would feel awkward. I don't have anything to wear. James told him not to worry, and for Regulus to just wear all white.

Which leads to now, Regulus standing outside of James' dorm in white slacks and a sheer white blouse. He feels slightly exposed. He's not used to wearing such a bright colour, but James assured him it was going to be fine.

James comes to the door only moments later, dressed in black head to toe. Black jeans and a black button-up. Regulus instantly feels self-conscious again. "James—"

"You look so good Reggie! Come in, come in. I have the final touches in here." James leaves the door open as he walks further into his room.

Entering James' room, Regulus spots the group of people in here, already getting ready for the Halloween party. Marlene and Peter were wearing blood-splattered suits. Lily was dressed as Strawberry Shortcake and Mary was Orange Blossom. The four of them were sat on Peter's bed as he finished up Lily's makeup.

James reemerges in Regulus' field of view, a big smile on his face as he holds up a halo and a pair of angel wings. "You ready?"

"An angel and devil? How creative James." Regulus states, grabbing the items out of his boyfriend's hands. James laughs as he puts on his own set of accessories, a pair of devil horns and a spiked tail.

"Come on Regulus! You're gonna look so good!" Marlene shouts. She was always high-energy and positive. It scared Regulus the first time he heard how loud she could be.

He slides his arms into the wings and places the halo on his head. Facing James again, he lets out a sigh. "Well?"

James just stares at him for a moment. "You're so hot, you know?" He walks over and holds Regulus' waist. Regulus scoffs with a smile, trying to hide his amusement. "I mean it, mi ángel."

If Regulus wasn't flustered before, he sure is now. "Shut up."

Looking around the room, the both of them see that everyone else is ready to go. Of course, Marlene is the first one to voice such. "Who's ready to party?!"

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

that problem when you as a fic writer get into a tv show and you can already tell that you won't be writing fic about it bc it just doesn't have the cracks for your brain to force itself into yet you know you're going to want to binge it anyway because ReasonsTM so basically your brain is calling an effective hiatus for the next however-long-it-takes-to-watch-this-damn-show-and-consume-relevant-fanfic-for-at-least-a-few-weeks

[bookishbethanyerin]

• overhyped, appropriately hyped, underhyped •

I was feeling brave, so here we are!

I do want to be clear on one thing though: I am not here to bash any books or any readers. I think everyone should read what they want, love what they love, and not be made to feel bad about that. Reading is subjective – and there are absolutely books out there for everyone.✌️

[xraytheredx]

It's been such a long time since I've fallen so hard for a project. All the work put into Welcome Home so far has been so vibrant and amazing, and things are just getting started! Of course I had to draw something for it! 😊💖 (Several somethings, to be more accurate! XD)

[hockeytown-gifs]

Development Camp Friendship Bracelets

Detroit Red Wings July 2023

[5rcane]

[ringosmistress]

6th july, 1957

Happy mclennon day