#bangs pots and pans wake the fuck up

[drawing--dead]

popping the question 🎉

[sapphire-weapon]

fucking Obsessed with the dialogue in the RE4make ending showcasing just how layered one sentence can be. when Leon turns down Ashley’s offer to put him on security detail, he’s not actually suggesting that the president’s fucking daughter doesn’t need security detail. there’s so damn much going on in that one line of dialogue alone.

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “I’m not even here under my own free will; there’s no chance in hell they’d transfer me. But even if there is the slightest possibility that you could actually help, I don’t want you to worry about it, so I won’t say anything.”

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “If I take my eyes off of bioterror for even a second, I’ll never be able to bring myself to go back. And I can’t afford to do that.”

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “Sherry needed me after we escaped together, and I’m pretty sure I fucked that up. I couldn’t bear to ruin the life of another tiny blonde girl.”

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “I’m probably fucking worthless outside of a life-and-death bioterror situation.”

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “The more you feel that you need me in order to cope with what’s happened to us here, the more you actually will need me, and I don’t want that for you.”

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “I genuinely believe you can heal from this and go on to live a normal life. I couldn’t.”

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “I wouldn’t have made it out of here without you, either.”

what he says: “You don’t need me.” what he means: “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

[allgremlinart]

going into the jeeko tag on this app and having to see the same 4 shitty posts of mine from the past 5 months or so and practically nothing else

[volivolition]

its been cool trying to come up with personal skills. Songbird (creative outlets like art and song) is currently being smothered with a pillow by Nightingale (rest, sleepiness, chronic fatigue)

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Emotional stuff aside, the biggest realization SW has brought me is how different my sleep schedule is from some of you guys’. Like it’ll be 20:30 and I’ll go “sleepy now 😴 time to spend less time looking at screens” and generally stop replying/reblogging because I won’t be as coherent as I’d like. And then I’ll take one last look at my phone at around 21:30/22:00 and someone four hours ahead of me will have just posted something amazing they literally just finished.

What the hell. How do you have the braincells to not only be awake but be creative that late?

[kritischetheologie]

.

[yuukei-yikes]

i love the headcanon/consensus that haruka and takane live in the hideout in the beginning... hibiya and hiyori would eventually go home for the year so then it's rly just haruka and takane living with the tateyama siblings(and mary but shes also super in family with them) so its like. a defined domestic dynamic already, and harutaka are just there like ugly lost puppies

anyways i was actually thinking abt kido kano seto mary and ayano all being standard morning people who are awake from really early to normal early while haruka and takane sleep til like 2pm👍 and when they finally appear everyone else is like OH. right. u guys also live here

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

there are bears surrounding them so adam brings out the owie mp whos angy at being awoken-

YEAH-

[anachronistic-falsehood]

SANDERS SIDES SEASON FINALE IS GONNA BE A FOUR PARTER??????

[homunculus-argument]

A fantasy book where many characters have dramatic High Fantasy epithets, but for incredibly non-dramatic reasons.

An adventurer known as The Herald of Dawn, but it's because she tends to wake up naturally at 4 or 5 am and every single fucking time wakes up the whole damn camp before sunrise by banging pots and pans together while making herself breakfast.

A nobleman known as The Lord of Shadows, but it's because his land is shaded from all sides by cliffs and mountains and all the other nobility are roasting this guy for not being able to grow or farm anything on his shitty, shady, no-sunshine-having estates.

A courtesan known as The Emerald of [location], but it's because the county she was born in is known for manufacturing forged jewels and gemstones, and so far she is the fakest pretty thing to ever come from there.

An assassin known as The Kiss of Death, but it's because he has somehow acquired every single known and documented STD in his mouth.

The Dark Huntress, named so to distinguish her from The Blonde Huntress.

A prince known as The Raven Prince, but it's because he's autistic and can and WILL tell you everything that is known about ravens, for five hours straight.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized t shirt

Request from here

***

Eyes blinking as light filtered through his closed lids, Simon began to stir as the first bit of the days brightness filled the small bedroom of his tiny apartment. Slowly those thick, long limbs of his stretched their compressed muscles back to life as the blood flowed through them.

Turning over, he was surprised that there wasn't another body laying next to him under the covers; your bright eyes and warm smile were what he had planned to gaze upon, but there was no one. That put him a little on edge, this being the first time you'd stayed over at his shitty little apartment, but he tried to keep calm until he was fully awake.

Simon moved up onto his elbow as he lay on his side, his large hand rubbing the rest of the sleep that lingered from out of his eyes. He looked about, trying to find any signs of you: your discarded clothes from the night before lay in a pile on the floor right next to your shoes, your earrings still sat on the bedside table, and as he checked the mattress with his hand he found that it was still warm. It was obvious you were still around, he just had to go and find you.

A full yawn passed his lips before he heard the sound of clinks and taps, bangs and rustling coming from towards the kitchen area. So that's where you'd sulked off to, making breakfast no doubt.

God you were too fucking much, he wasn't used to all this sweetness, but he wouldn't change it for anything.

Carefully and quietly he moved out of the bed, scratching at the sparse covering of hair on his bare chest before he stood and straightened his sweatpants around his hips. He was hoping he could surprise you by showing up to catch you in the act.

With easy steps, Simon walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and what he saw standing there amidst pots and pans, a stack of toast and a pile of bacon to your right, it took his goddamn breath away.

The expectation was to find you naked, since the only clothes you had were still on his bedroom floor, but that wasn't what he found at all. Your hair had been pulled up, a few stray hairs poking out around your hairline that hadn't been secured and it looked like the only thing you had on was one of his old baggy t shirts.

As you moved, Simon could just see a peak of the underside of your ass pop through the bottom of the shirt, playing peakaboo with him the longer he looked. The lines of your legs, looked even longer as the shirt sat just below your hips. Those juicy limbs looked good enough to eat, bare and glaring back at him.

Fuck, you had never been more beautiful to him; it nearly made his goddamn heart stop beating. Being a big man had its perks and this was one of the best ones he found, that you were able to wear his clothes.

In that moment as he watched you happily go about your work, looking like a comfy dream, images of you doing this full time flooded Simon's mind and his stomach flipped excitedly at the thought. If there was anyone that could make that rough and brazen military man soft, it was you.

And maybe it was about time he let someone do it...

There was a sudden warmness against your back as two bulky arms wrapped themselves around your from behind, making you jump a little at the surprise. " 'mornin, luv," Simon's husky voice hit your ears before his kiss touched your cheek. "See you've made yourself at home."

You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth he still had from being wrapped up tight in the covers moments before. "I just...I wanted to do something nice for you, make us breakfast," you said, giving the eggs in the pan currently in your grasp a flip.

"Pretty sure you do more than enough for a bastard like me," he chuckled as one of those thick mitts moved down and cupped lightly over your sex. "This is all I need to stay well fuckin' fed."

Immediately the heat rose in your cheeks, flushing your face bright red.

"But I meant my shirt," he continued, secretly smiling from ear to ear at how quickly he had you blushing. Certain, heavy movements from his hands flitted across your torso as he rubbed over the lines of your curves through the familiar fabric of his clothing.

"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized, thinking you had possibly overstepped, "I hope you don't mind, I just needed something and it was just there in the top drawer and..."

Another kiss on your cheek shut you right up. "Look fuckin' good like this, luv," he purred in your ear, his low, gravely morning voice making you shiver.

"Really?" you asked, glad that he wasn't mad you'd commendeered his clothes; in reality you knew it would be nothing, but this being the first time you'd done this, you still had some giddy nervousness about everything.

"Ya look like a fuckin' picture to me," he reiterated, those full lips moving down to your next now as he leaned more against you. "I thought I looked good in this thing, but it ain't nothin' compared to a fuckin' vixen like you."

You giggled playfully at all the sweet praise. Nearly missing the eggs being done, you turned off the stove and set the aside until you both were ready to eat. "Please, I look like hell."

"Bullshit," he said as he turned you around, picked up you, and placed your butt on top of the nearest countertop. He slid in between your open legs, letting his hands run down your side from where he had lifted you, sliding tenderly over the shirt. He was right, you were naked save for the shirt and that did something to his still sleepy brain.

Greedily he tilted his head and leaned up into you, embracing your mouth fully with all of his and making your lips dance together. Feverish and sloppy Simon connected with your lips again and again, making your still sleepy brain flatline.

If you could wake up every day like this it would be a fucking living dream.

His kisses would not let up as he pulled you in closer, his hands running over the curves of your back as he stole your lips with a lazy intensity.

"Breakfast is gonna get cold," you groaned with eyes closed, mouthing the words against his parted lips.

His hips bucked into your own. "Nah, my breakfast feels mighty fuckin' warm to me, luv," he said as he kept right at it.

[1whore1gang]

it’s the little things 🤍

In which the TF141 become toddlers.

This idea has been stirring in my brain for awhile.

Imagine some weird force of magic nature turns the boys into cute little toddlers, you and price being forced to care for Soap, Ghost and Gaz.

It makes things awkward at first, but you and him find a groove as you figured out how to not only fix this, but find a way to hide it from Shephard.

Cute little enemies to lovers in a way lol

(yes this is gonna be a series)

Part 2 here

ENJOY PART 1 FRIENDS!! 🤍

You sat up in bed, waking up from a loud bang that came from down the hall. “The hell…?” You said groggily. You swung your feet over the bed, going to investigate what that bang was.

Deep down, you knew it was just Soap in the kitchen making food, especially at this hour, but you’d usually hear a loud “Sorry!” for the noise. You approached the kitchen when another loud bang happened, signaling pots and pans had fallen, but this time it was followed with…a child crying?

Your feet quickened as you turned into the doorway to see a small boy, maybe less than 2 years old sitting on the ground, a pot over his head, muffling his crying. You panicked seeing a small child on the base, knowing none of you had children. “Hey sweetheart. You’re okay!” You cooed as you removed the pit from the child’s head, trying to comfort him. When you saw the face of the little one, you froze.

Blinking a few times and rubbing your eyes, you thought you were for sure in a dream. In front of you, sat a sad child with cobalt blue eyes and a small brunette mohawk shaved in the baby hair on his head. “What?”

You picked him up, rocking him on your hip to get him to hush down and quiet his crying. You stared adamantly. Surely this wasn’t actually Soap right? Somebody had to be playing a prank on you. This isn’t Soap, somebody just took their own baby and dressed it up as Soap to prank you, yeah that’s right. You nodded to yourself and turned to go interrogate people when the baby cooed and grabbed sweetly at your hair, smiling and giggling as you spoke. The little blue eyes looked up at you in adoration, but then his head laid on your shoulder contently, cooing again.

You shook your head and went searching for anyone who might be awake. You knew Ghost didn’t sleep much, so you went to his room, trying to find someone else who saw this little baby too, proving you weren’t going crazy.

You knocked on his door, expecting the grunt of ‘its open’, but no noise came. You knocked again and heard some of his sheets move. He’s always awake during this time, so no response was weird.

Slowly turning the doorknob, you blinked to adjust your eyes to the darkness of Ghost’s room. You prayed he was awake, and not doing anything that’d make you regret bursting in like this. “Simon…?” You said cautiously, trying to audiably scan the room. You moved your way over to his bed, the little baby who looked like Soap still contently clinging onto your side and shoulder.

Once you approached his bed, you turned on a lamp to see a little child, the same as the one you’re holding, dressed like Ghost with similar features, except he wasn’t crying or asleep, he was chewing on the foot in his mouth. “Get that out of there. Come here.” You picked him up, getting a good look at him.

You easily thought this was definitely some sort of prank now. There’s no way this is a coincidence. You shook your head as the Soap baby whined and reached out for Ghost. You froze.

The baby who looked like Ghost simply sat on your hip, his head turning as the little baby who looked like Soap reached out with grabby hands towards him, whining.

You watched as their hands met and both babies calmed against you. “There’s no fucking way.” You sat and thought a moment. “Johnny honey?” The little boy’s face perked up as you said his name. “Simon sweetheart?” The other little boy looked up at you with wide eyes hearing his own name too. “Oh god, it IS you!”

You bursted out of the room, both boys on your hips, trying to find Gaz and Price. You found Gaz’s room first, bustling through the door to find your worst fear. Gaz’s little self was spread out, mouth drooling as he slept on his massive bed. “Oh no…” You adjusted Ghost over to your hip with Johnny, the two quickly falling into a sleep being next to each other, placing a sleeping Gaz on your free hip. “You boys are heavy for being so tiny.”

You felt a panic settle in your chest as you approached Price’s room, fearing the worst.

Knocking on the wood of his door, you questioned yourself for the action until a fully adult Price answered the door, staring down at you with wide eyes. “What is this? It’s 2am?”

“It’s the boys. This one’s Soap, here’s-“

“I see that, and the resemblance but why are you doing this at this hour Y/N?” He was annoyed, I knew that. There was some sense of relief though knowing I wasn’t the only adult here.

“Listen, I know we don’t get along but something is going on. Watch this.” You cleared your throat as you cooed the boys’ names, each one responding with a giggle or a smiley wide-eyed look. “Tell me these littles aren’t our coworkers?”

Price stared down at you as you held all three of them, your back obviously hurting. “Give me Gaz.” Price reached out and took one of your hands. Soap and Ghost were awake again, but you chuckled as you watched little Gaz drool all over Price’s sleep shirt. “Have you found out who’s pulled this prank?”

“I don’t think it’s a prank Price, how else do you explain-OW!” You looked down, seeing a sad Soap, on the verge of tears. You see Ghost’s little hand still raised, entangled in your hair. “Simon!” You silently asked Price to let him come in, and he stepped aside without a word.

You set Soap down on Price’s bed, watching as he plopped back onto the bed, still sniffling. You held Ghost to where he could see your face as you spoke to him. “You do not pull hair! You know this!” Ghost just blinked and titled his head. “You hurt me!”

As soon as those words left your mouth, Soap began to cry. You sighed as you set Ghost down and picked up Soap, cooing him. His little eyes were roaming your face as his sniffled and cried. “I’m okay! He just pulled my hair!” You said sweetly. This was very much like the adult Soap you knew. If you even hissed in pain, he was right there checking over every inch of you to make sure you were okay.

You heard a little grunt as you look down to see Ghost looking up at you with little grabby hands and a straight face. The only noise coming out were little grunts. You couldn’t help but laugh as you looked at Price. “That’s actually really cute.”

Price let out a single chuckle, “That’s Simon for ya. So run me through what happened?” You look up to see him rocking a half asleep Gaz on his hip. It makes your heart ache, seeing him in such a state.

You set the three littles down on his bed as you and him sat down at his kitchen table. (Being a captian has perks). He had brewed some coffee as you got Soap and Ghost to quiet down for sleep.

You both sat as you recalled the series of events that brought you to his room. “I was freaking that I’d find you as one too.” You laughed a little.

You and Price were never really on good terms, you were too alike and hard headed that you were always arguing about something, but right now, you felt at ease. “I still don’t understand why we aren’t i. their state right now.” Price spoke, nodding towards the three toddlers dead asleep on his bed.

“Me neither.” You shook your head, scouring your brain for any answers. “What’re we gonna tell people in the morning. They’re gonna notice.”

“Luckily, if we stick to this corner of the compound and this wing’s kitchen and common areas, no one will know. We get lucky having our own private sector. Outside of that, I don’t know, we’ll have to venture away to get supplies for them. We have no idea how long they’ll be like this.”

You sighed as it hit you, “That never hit me until now. We’ll need baby food and supplies. I’ll be honest, I’ve never had to take care of any kid that little, I don’t know what I’m doing. What kind of formula to buy…” Uou turned your head to see your captian smiling.

“Did you know MacTavish was breast fed?”

Your eyes widened. “Okay first of my body can’t even do that, I don’t have any kids. Even if it did, no way.”

Price let out a chuckle, “I’m only teasin’ ya.” You looked at him in confusion, he never did this. “But we have to find a way to make this work, and try to figure out what caused this.”

You let out a large yawn, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna have to work together-“

“Like that always turns out well.” You both nod in agreement as he finished your sentence. “Why don’t I watch them for a bit while you get some rest? In the morning, we’ll go to the store and try to get as much as we can to take care of the buggers.”

You looked at him for a minute, “Wake me if you need to switch out, ok?” You stood to go to your room, but he stopped you.

“Sleep on my couch, it pulls out. That way you’re not too far if I need ya.” You parted your lips in an exhale as you moved to lay down on the couch. You were confused at Price’s actions, not knowing why he was acting so kind when usually you were quite snippy with each other.

But, you would take it.

——

“Sit still!” You quietly scolded as Gaz was squirming in the shopping cart.

“I think he wants to be held.” Price said, scooping him up, which immediately calmed little Gaz. You sighed as you set Soap and Ghost in the shopping cart’s seat. The two of them were half asleep still, droopy eyes and small cooes.

“Let’s just get in and out before anyone sees us.” You said, grabbing some formula off the shelf. “I hope this one’s okay?” You turn the can to show Price and he nods.

“I never realized how expensive this shit is.” He says, running his finger over the price tag below it. “Wow.”

“I know. It’s insanity.” You give him a straight smile as you both continue through the store, having an old lady compliment how cute your boys were. You have her a cordial ‘thank you’, trying to hide the red of embarrassment creeping onto your face.

As quickly as you entered the store, you exited quicker, checking out with speed.

You had two crying babies while Price installed the car seats. You tried your best to load the groceries in, cooing the boys. “Sshh, you’re okay. Why won’t they stop-“ You stopped your sentence as you felt Soap try to latch onto your breast through your shirt. You peeled him off, staring at him. “Price.”

“Hm?” You saw his head pop up as he finished installing the seats.

“I think they’re hungry…”

“We’ll feed them at the base.” Price watched as you looked at Soap in a mix of confusion and horror. He watched you quickly load the boys in as you became quiet. He was curious what had you all locked up.

Returning to base, you and Price tag teamed unloading everything and warming up three bottles. As soon as the boys were fed, the crying subsided and you felt yourself ease into the back of the couch, your eyes closing.

“You okay? You kind of closed up earlier?” You were laying there with Soap laying drowsily on your chest, Ghost in your lap. Price’s voice made you hum.

“Yeah, just had something happen.”

“What happened?”

“Soap tried to latch himself onto my breast in the middle of the parking lot.”

Price let out a snort and your eyes shot open. It was a sound you’d never heard. “Sorry, I warned ya the lad was breastfed.” He shrugged with a cocky look.

“Why don’t we get these boys down for a nap? I could use the time to catch up on paperwork.” You said, hoisting all three boys into your grasp, struggling but managing.

You went to your room, where there was a good sized playpen, big enough for all three boys to sleep comfortably. You set them down, tucking them in, then heading to your office.

Hours had passed when Price poked his head in, Ghost on his hip, Gaz in the chest carrier he bought. “You hungry? It’s around time for dinner.”

“Uh, not really but if you made something?”

“No, I was gonna see what you thought sounded good.” Price was a sight with two of the boys clinging to him.

You parted your lips to answer, then paused before responding. “I’ll come find you when I’m finished, but don’t wait for me to eat. If you’re hungry, I’ll catch up.” Price shot you a straight smile before dipping out, leaving you to the stack of papers claddered around your desk.

You finally rubbed your eyes, submitting your final report. Looking to the time, you saw it was almost 9:30. You silently cursed yourself. It had been 5:00 when Price popped in.

Rising from your chair, you go to your room, seeing the boys asleep. Price is sitting in a chair, reading a book. “I’m sorry, I got caught up-“

“All good, did you happen to stop in the kitchen?” He closed the book and stood, tucking it under his arm.

“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry. Did they go down okay?”

He nods, a straight expression coming across his face. “No problems. Im gonna turn in for the night, come find me if you need me during the night.” He brushed past you, leaving the room quiet as his footsteps dissolved into the night.

You stared down at the three little boys. “You sure are cute. Im never gonna let any of you live this down.”

With that, you laid down for the night, finally resting. You thought about your interactions with Price throughout the day, he was never this cordial with you, nor were you with him.

What was it about your coworkers being children that made you both act so differently?

[generalllimaginesss]

"Every morning I question why I moved in with you." Can you write an older Hughes sister one where she moved in with Jack and then Luke when he started with the Devils and they’re always asking her to do things for them. Like waking her up in the morning to make breakfast because only she knows how to make pancakes like their mom used to when they were kids. She pretends to hate it but loves to be able to take care of her baby brothers. I imagine they’d all be obsessed with their sister if they had one.

Hughes sister has a chokehold on me and I make no apologies for it. I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking!!

••

It had been a long week at work, major changes in the computer system that your office used was causing you to work overtime, so you looked forward to sleeping in on Saturday.

However, Jim and Ellen both agreed that the youngest Hughes boys could benefit from having their big sister live with them as they adjusted to life without their mom and dad. Luckily you had a job where you could work from home and were able to move to New Jersey with ease. At least with ease regarding your job. Your brothers were anything but ease...

With there being a three year age gap with Jack and four with Luke, they looked up to their big sister, relying on you a little more than they should at their age. Most of the time it didn't bother you, but you just wanted this one morning to yourself.

The sound of pots and pans banging revealed that you had wishful thinking, causing you to groan when you rolled over and saw that it was only 7:00 am.

You could tell that the boys were bickering back and fourth about something, but you would let them work it out like the adults that they were. Or at least the adults that they should be.

The walls weren't thick enough to block their argument out though.

"Dude, no that's not how she did it. She added more flour."

"Are you dumb? We're not making waffles. It doesn't need that much flour."

"Well it doesn't need that much milk. It's pancakes, not soup."

"Go get her, we clearly have no idea what the fuck we're doing."

Footsteps, you determined as Jack's, began to come closer to your room, causing you to put a pillow over your head, wishfully hoping it would suffocate you into a deep sleep that wouldn't be disturbed by your brothers.

Three knocks on your door let you know that your wishful thinking was to no avail. You didn't understand why he even bothered knocking when he barged in and jumped on the bed, landing right on top of you, momentarily knocking the breath out of you.

"Jack, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!" You yelled, shoving him off the bed, the thud resonating throughout the room.

You watched as he winced in pain, holding his knee as it took the brunt of the fall.

"You realize that I have a job that requires me to be healthy?" He groaned as he stood up, causing you to throw a pillow at him while rolling your eyes.

"Don't jump on me and you wouldn't be in this predicament, now would you?"

"Whatever....me and Luke can't remember how to make mom's pancakes. Can you help with that?" He asked, sitting on the side of your bed and falling back onto you.

"You two are hopeless..." You trailed off as you hit his stomach, trying to get him off of you. He swatted your hand away from his stomach, but moved enough to let you out of bed.

As you walked into the kitchen, Jack trailing closely behind and Luke sitting on a barstool on his phone, you noticed that it was an absolute disaster. There were egg shells scattered across the counter, way more than they should have needed. The flour bag was busted, a trail of flour showed where the boys had carried it around the kitchen. There was now only a half gallon of milk left from a previously unopened jug.

You groaned, wiping the sleep out your eyes as you recalled the way that your mom made pancakes your whole life.

"I feel like kids would be easier to raise than the two of you," You said under your breath, pouring the bowl of goop that the boys made down the drain.

"Jack is supposed to know how to make pancakes," Luke spoke up, not tearing his attention away from his phone.

"You watched her make it the same way we did, Luke," You pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm the baby. I've got you all to do it for me," He smirked, watching you as your glares sent daggers towards him.

"I don't think the argument of being the baby of the family is valid after the age of 18. If it has to be brought up after that, then something's wrong," You rebutted, measuring out the ingredients and mixing them together.

Jack snorted, finding amusement in his oldest and youngest sibling arguing. He wasn't safe from your attitude though.

"You have no room to be laughing over there, Jack. You're older than him and still have to ask me to cook. It's funny...I've never had to do anything for Quinn," You knew when you said it that they would groan, and they did.

"Why don't you go live with him then?" Jack proposed, trying to sit next to Luke who shoved him away.

"Why the hell would you say that while she's making our pancakes, dude?"

"Trust me, I would get a lot more work done because he wouldn't be bothering me nonstop," You flipped one of the pancakes, a golden brown reflecting back at you.

The three of you were quiet as you finished flipping and plating them. You had made enough for the boys to have three and you two.

"Thank you," Jack snatched the plate from your hands, causing you to snatch them back.

"You will not snatch these from me when you rudely jumped on me at 7 in the morning. Take them nicely. We use easy hands in this house," You didn't budge, not giving him his pancakes until he slowly took the plate back. If looks could kill you would be long gone by the look he was giving you.

"Yeah, Jack, easy hands," Luke mocked, trying to grab the plate you held out to him. You brought it back closer to you and out of his reach, preventing him from grabbing it.

"What do we say?" Talking to him like a child elicited a glare from him as well, but he said his 'thank you' and you gave him his plate.

They ate quickly, mentioning that they were running late for a meeting. When they put their plates in the sink, you realized that they were leaving you with the mess that they had made.

"Who do you two think I am? Your personal maid?" You asked rhetorically.

"Love ya, Sis!" Luke called as he walked out the front door.

Jack didn't bother to say anything, only throwing up a peace sign as he followed Luke.

"Every morning I question why I moved in with you," You muttered under your breath as you rolled your sleeves up to clean the kitchen.

As you went to load the dishwasher, your phone vibrated on the counter, Jack's name flashing across the screen.

"What do you need?" You sighed, knowing he had forgotten something.

"I forgot my suit for the game tonight...can you bring it when you get a chance? Preferably before lunch?" You could hear Luke chuckling in the background.

"What do you say?" You were bound and determined to teach him some manners while staying with them.

"Oh my God, just bring it-"

"Do you want the suit or no? Because I'm not the one that has to wear it tonight..." You trailed off as you rinsed a bowl out before loading it onto the top shelf of the dishwasher.

Jack sighed, causing Luke to laugh.

"My wonderful sister that I love so much, would you do me a favor and please bring me my suit before lunch? With my Air Forces?" Sarcasm seeped from his voice, your eyes rolling in response.

"I don't appreciate the sass, but since you said please I will," He didn't bother saying thank you, hanging up immediately when you finished your sentence. He would learn one day.

You would never admit it to them, but you loved being able to help them. The early mornings and late nights that they caused you were inconvenient in the moment, but you would hate to miss out on the opportunities to spend so much time with them. They were, after all, your baby brothers that you loved so very much.

But unbeknownst to anybody...Quinn was still your favorite.

*

*

*

*

[3027960]

fluffy little ghoap x reader christmas fluff (reader can be read however, but i hc her as fat!)

johnny wakes up first, the night spent in each other's arms doing little to dull his endless energy after a solid six hours of shut-eye. he's excited, vibrating with excitement, nearly bouncing off of the walls.

it's christmas!!

you and ghost lie tangled in bed, the downy sheets soft against your back and shoulders as you lay your head on his broad chest. he hums contently, petting your hair with his right hand, the hand hooked under your neck. his other hand lies flexed behind his head.

he's awake, but you aren't, lying in the in-between, that sickly-syrupy space between dream and wake, where you're aware enough to know that you'll be up soon.

ghost runs his hands over your head and then down your back, following the curve of the short green silk tank top you had promised were 'christmas' pyjamas, and not just lingerie enticing them to fuck you.

he hears johnny humming in the kitchen, the soft banging of pots and pans as he prepares a full-english. he knows johnny had been thinking about it for weeks, waking up with both of you and preparing a splendid breakfast of fried tomatoes and eggs, beans, toast, and bacon. johnny had scoffed at the turkey bacon you'd picked out ("'is not the same, hen. the pigs' been dead anyway") because you don't eat pork.

johnny's soft humming is only interrupted by the opening and closing of the fridge or a thoughtful comment.

ghost watches as your eyes blink open, crusty from sleep and the remnants of the makeup they'd fucked off of you, the errant bit they couldn't remove with a post-coital makeup wipe.

he leans down to place a soft kiss on your forehead as your mouth opens in a yawn. you greet him a good morning, your voice muffled against the fabric of his t-shirt.

he sighs, "good mornin', love. happy christmas.."

[helaelaemond]

Little Games That We Play - Billy Washington x reader

Pairing:  Billy Washington x semi-girlfriend!reader (?)

Word count: 2k

Summary: you pick Billy up from the police station after he's smashed up a butchers' shop. You're sick of him, but not so sick you can say no to getting fucked.

AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, penetrative sex, clothed sex.

Content warning(s): rough sex, mentions of Islamophobia, very brief domestic violence (reader slaps Billy)

Rating: E

For Ez, one of my beloved muses.

You march out of the police station with anger in you.

"Sunglasses?" Billy asks as he strides to keep up with you.

You pull them from your bag and shove them to his chest. "A halal butchers?" you ask, your voice full of disgust. He doesn't answer you as you make your way quickly down the stairs and to your banged up old Corsa. Not as sorry as his Cavalier, but nothing to be especially proud of.

"Thanks for coming to get me."

You can't even stomach looking at him. When you're both in the car, you open the windows and screech out of the car park and into the road, barely making it to third by the time you hit thirty.

"Aye, ease up," he tells you in a strained tone.

"You reek," is the only reply you can muster.

The rest of the drive is in silence. On the steering wheel, your knuckles are white. It takes twenty minutes with traffic to get home, and you're too angry to park neatly - half your wheel is on the pavement, and you'll probably get a ticket, but fuck it. Billy can pay for it - when he finally gets a job. The thought makes you snort, and he looks over at you.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"You ain't even got that to your name."

When he laughs in reply, it's dry, humourless. A cheap shot, you know, but Jesus. You're so angry you could push him into traffic, you really could-!

After a long pause, Billy speaks. "I int got my keys."

Silence is the answer you give him. He follows you across the road and up into the flat that you share. It's cluttered and messy and dirty, and you've been spending more and more time back at your mum's place than here lately. It's been a while since it felt like home.

On the stovetop, dirty pans wait to be washed. There's a half-finished Pot Noodle next to it, and a dish of used teabags. This isn't how you saw your life turning out. "Didn't have five minutes to clean up?"

He pours boiling water into two mugs and stirs them both without looking up. He's still wearing those sunglasses. "Didn't know when you'd be home. Didn't see the point."

"You don't help yourself, you know?"

He winces at your raised voice. "Save it, will you? My head's killing me."

"How many did you have last night?" you press. He hands you the cup of tea and you take it without thinking.

"A few."

"How many's a few?"

"I dunno. It was a wake, for fuck's sake, I wasn't counting."

"Yeah? Well, maybe you should've. A butchers', Billy, a fucking butchers'?"

Billy shrugs slightly. His chin is tilted down. Without taking a sip, you set your mug on the dirty counter and grab him by the front of his black shirt.

"What are you playing at?" you hiss.

His lip curls and he turns his face away. "Leave it."

"No! You're throwing your life away, and dragging other people down with it!"

"No one cares enough to be dragged down with me."

You slap him, hard. Across his sharp cheek your hand comes, and it knocks those stupid Aviators right off his nose. "No one cares enough? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

Sometimes, Billy is as meek as anything, and he takes the nasty things people say with shining eyes and tight lips. But other times, he comes to the edge of losing control. There is no shine in his eyes now - just the glisten of something dangerous. A thrill goes through you. He catches your wrist and squeezes until it hurts. "The girl who promised she'd never leave. But you're leaving me, aren't you? You're giving up, just like everyone else."

"What do you expect me to do?" you challenge. There are butterflies in your stomach when he pulls you closer, but you fight it. He's stronger than you, though. "Sit around and watch you waste the best years of my life? Watch you drain my bank account?"

"You promised."

"Look at the state of you." Your voice is low, angry. "Dirty clothes. Dirty face. Dirty fucking life."

His lip twitches, but he makes no reply. At least not with his words. One hand winds suddenly into your hair, fingers gripping hard at the root, and he pulls until your neck is arched, and your hands grab desperately for his arms. He doesn't go to the gym anymore, but his biceps are tensed and you hate how much you love the strain in the muscles.

"You're not a man," you hiss. "You need to grow up."

The hate in his heart has put distance between you. But the fire in his eyes is nothing but passion and love for you, you know. It's not enough for you anymore.

It still makes your pussy wet.

And when he shoves you against the messy counter, stomach first, you know what's coming. "Then why are you still here?" he mutters against your ear.

With his half-hard cock grinding in his filthy joggers against your backside, it's difficult to keep your mind on words, let alone an answer to such a complex question. Because you love him. Because you're filled with hope. Because you promised to stay.

You think of how ashamed he sounded on the phone this morning when he asked you to pick him up. You had been the one that he wanted when everything had gone to shit - when he had ruined everything. It was still you. "Because you called."

It comes out more tenderly than you intended. He grunts, and his hips stutter. "You fucking love me. Don't you?"

Gripping onto the countertop, you suppress a shiver and shake your head slightly. "No."

"Yeah, you do." Behind you, Billy shoves up your dress and presses his hand between your thighs. His long fingers rub over your underwear, and with his soft breaths at your ear, he slips them underneath. Between your folds he dips, and he groans to find you hot, the beginning of slickness pooling at your entrance. "Oh, yeah, that's what I thought."

"You don't deserve me," comes your defiant reply. It's punctuated by stiff breaths that give you away, though.

He smells unwashed, and stale beer clings to him like dust. It wraps you up in a haze of devotion and disgust. When he pushes his joggers down, you think of where they've been. He was wearing them when he carried out a hate crime, and when he was picked up by police sitting on the filthy pavement. In the police car and then the cells he wore them, and there are stains on them that you dread to think the origin of.

"Bend over," he tells you.

"No."

He growls against your ear. "Bend over."

"Make me."

And he does. With a hard hand on the back of your neck, he forces you to bend over where you stand. Before you have a moment to think, the blunt head of his cock nudges between your spread thighs, and he sinks into you like he owns you.

"Don't pretend you're too good for me," Billy mutters once he's deep inside you, his groin pressed against your backside. "That's not a fun game."

Your head rests on the counter, eyes closed. In front of you is the dish of teabags. It smells strangely comforting. "This isn't a game."

"Yeah, it is." He slams back and forth into you, once, twice, thrice, and then he pauses. "You love these little games that we play."

You hiss very quietly. "Get on with it."

"Oh?" There's a smirk in his voice now. Smug cunt.

"Just- just do it."

"Do you need it?" he asks. His pace begins smooth and slow. He knows what he's doing.

"Billy," you say through gritted teeth.

"What?"

You are going to have to swallow your pride. At least for a moment. Hopefully it'll be worth it. "Fuck me properly or not at all."

"You want it hard?"

Shit. He knows exactly what he's doing. You hate him for it. "Yes."

"Say it."

"No."

The hand on the back of your neck squeezes in a silent threat. His voice turns cold. It makes your blood run hot. "Say it."

"Fuck you!"

Billy scrapes his nails over your scalp before grasping your hair again and yanking you up slightly. He hisses against your ear. "Say it for me. Or I'll stop."

In a moment of quiet, you consider him. You could walk away now with your dignity. But, God, you feel so empty without him. And now he's inside you and you shift your hips slightly and even that tiny stimulation makes your eyes roll. "Oh, God. F-fuck. Fuck me. Hard."

And he does.

He fucking does.

The noise of your coupling in the little kitchen is obscene. Your skin slaps together as the slickness between your bodies echoes, barely covered by Billy's groans and your laboured breaths. His cock fills you perfectly, pounding into you again and again like you're unbreakable. He fucks you like you belong to him.

It makes your thighs tremble. He doesn't have the decency to touch you anywhere else this time. Sometimes, he spends hours worshipping your whole body, kissing and caressing your skin until you feel like a shrine of his love, godly and devotional. But here, now... he fucks you like he doesn't love you. But like he needs you.

"Fuck!" Billy bites your ear before licking around it. "You gonna keep your mouth shut next time?"

"No," you whine. "You're a piece of shit."

He slides his hand from the back of your neck to your throat, and pulls you up slightly. It makes your hips tilt and back arch, and the new angle makes your knees weak.

"I think you will." Words are punctuated by hard thrusts that feel so good they almost hurt. "Gonna make me come."

"Hand," you tell him. With one still around your throat, the other goes between your legs and his fingers rub a brutal rhythm over your clit. He presses your hot flesh hard and fast until you go weak in his arms. He holds you upright like it's nothing. Like you're nothing.

"Fuck, fuck-!"

"Billy, yes, yes, don't stop, don't-!"

He groans your name. "Fuck, fuck, gonna make me come, I'm-! Yes, oh, God yes, yes, yes-!"

Your orgasm crashes over you at the sound of him reaching his peak, and your knees give way. He holds you tight and strains up on his toes to bury himself as deep as he can, spilling inside you with a gutteral cry. Pleasure erupts from between your legs through your whole body, crashing over you in waves. The hand against your cunt holds you firm, giving you something to keep focus on as aftershocks make you twitch.

"I've got you," he mutters after his moans have subsided. You lean back in his arms, utterly spent. There are no thoughts left in your mind. Floating. You're just floating.

But what goes up, must come down.

"Let go," you mumble.

"Hmm?" His lips are at your neck, soft kisses making your skin tingle.

You push him away. It makes you wince when his cock slips, half hard, out of you. He made your underwear chafe against your thigh when he pushed it aside, you realise now. "Get off."

Billy hangs his head. Hastily, he pulls up his joggers and grabs his mug from the side. You notice the cuts on his knuckles have opened up again. Whatever. That's his own fault.

"Stay."

You look up at him. He avoids your gaze. "Billy..."

"Just... stay."

"Don't ask me that after... after that. You know I..."

"You what?" he asks. And then he looks at you with shining eyes.

"I can't say no to you like this. You... you know that."

He nods. "Yeah. That's why I did it."

It should make you hate him. It's bad enough that he did it, let alone admit it - he fucks you like this to keep you tied to him. But you don't hate him. Instead of leaving, you take your tea and follow him to the couch. Together, you sit down, and drink in silence. You'll stay. Come what may.

[megamett44-lover]

really craving matt fics rn..

how abt like attempting to surprise matt with breakfast in bed, but the smell of pancakes and maple syrup wakes him up!!

(i hope that makes sense 🙏)

Perfect sense! (Unrelated, just ate some pancakes for dinner and they smacked)

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: In which Y/n realizes trying to make pancakes isn’t as easy as she thought

Warnings/Notes: Profanity, she/her pronouns

Requested? Yes!

Breakfast in Bed

As quietly as possible, I slipped out of Matt’s bed and made my way into the kitchen. It was still early morning, so I knew no one would be up. Matt, Nick, and Chris had been out late last night filming a car video, and Matt finally crawled into bed around 4:30 that morning.

I knew he was stressed with everything going on; with the podcast, two YouTube videos a week, and their upcoming tour, it was bound to have a toll on him. I had been planning to do something special for him for awhile, but it hit me last night when I found myself craving pancakes; breakfast in bed!

As I rummaged through their cabinets, I searched for ingredients needed for the pancakes. Honestly, I was surprised to find they had everything I needed. I made a mental note to thank Nick for that.

I searched the cabinet for a sizable pan to use, which in turn made three different pots fall to the ground, loudly banging against the floor.

“Fuck…” I whispered, quickly moving to grab the pots.

Finally, I found the pan I needed and made quick work of making the pancake batter. I hummed to myself as I poured the mixture onto the pan in circles.

“Yo, what’s going on?” I hear a voice behind me ask.

I jump, spilling half of the batter on myself and the floor. There stood Chris, still wide awake, laughing at the batter that adorned my pajamas.

“God, Chris!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“You making pancakes?” He asks, looking over my shoulder.

“For Matt.” I say. “Not for people who scare me and make me lose half my batter.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re up at 7:00 in the morning banging around in the kitchen.” Chris defends. “Besides, you could’ve been a burglar for all I knew.”

I roll my eyes, trying to clean up the spilled batter the best I could. “Yeah a burglar who breaks in and makes pancakes.”

Chris laughs. “So, can you make me some waffles?”

“Well I had planned on making extra for you and Nick, but I’ve lost most of my batter.” I say.

“Oh come on!” Chris protests. “You have plenty!”

I groan, trying to wipe some batter out of the ends of my hair. “Fine, I’ll make you some pancakes if you go back downstairs and leave me alone while I finish.”

“Deal!” Chris says, grabbing a Pepsi from the fridge and turning back around. “Oh, by the way, those pancakes look a little crispy.” And with that, he darts back downstairs.

Looking back at my pan, I notice the burnt pancakes.

“They make this look so much easier on Food Network.” I groan, taking the pan off of the stove. The smell of burnt pancakes flood through the house, causing me to grimace.

I trash the bad pancakes and look at my batter, it looked like enough for maybe two pancakes, three if I made them small. I run my hands through my hair, still feeling some sticky batter in it.

I crouched down, attempting to finish cleaning up the mess Chris caused me to make, when a laugh makes me look up.

There Matt was, laughing at the mess all over the kitchen. “Looks like a bomb went off in here, what happened?” He asks, kneeling down to help me.

I sigh. “I was trying to surprise you with pancakes…then Chris scared me.” I look up at him. “It didn’t work out the way I wanted.”

Matt smiles. “You got a little…” He trails off, bringing his thumb to my nose to swipe the batter off of it. “So that’s the burnt smell that woke me up. I thought we were repeating the house fire incident.”

I shove his arm softly. “Shut up.” I say, fighting the smile that was threatening to appear on my face.

Matt laughs. “Well I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think we can salvage many pancakes out of this.” He motions to my batter.

I nod. “Thank Chris for that.”

“How about we get this cleaned up and we can DoorDash some iHop and eat it in bed?” Matt suggests.

“That sounds amazing.” I say, trashing the rest of the batter. “But I promised Chris some waffles.”

Matt scoffs. “He ruined my girl’s pancake surprise, he can get his own damn waffles.”

I laugh. “You’re right…sorry about the mess.”

Matt walks over to me with a wet wash cloth. “Don’t apologize, it was funny.” He begins to clean the batter off of my arms. “And if it makes you feel any better, this was a surprise.”

I roll my eyes. “Not the one I wanted, though.”

“I love any surprise involving you, I promise.” Matt says, pressing a small kiss to my cheek.

We finished cleaning up the kitchen and Matt DoorDashed some iHop while I washed the rest of the batter out of my hair. We curled up in bed, put on a movie, and ate our pancakes, but not without hearing Chris heckle us for not ordering him anything.