#but Storm found out and tackled her

[fellsilver]

I know in my heart Storm was the type to put fireworks on a lawn chair and set them off while sitting in it as an improvised rocket

[see-arcane]

Our good friend Jonathan Harker is getting ready to leave for his business trip, Mina Murray is picking out a new journal, Lucy Westenra is charming a gaggle of smitten suitors, Abraham van Helsing is wrapping up his lectures, and Castle Dracula is prepping the guest room for a very long stay.

Which must mean that Dracula Season is here again!

 ‘Dracula Season’ being a catchall term for the voracious reading, memeing, writing, illustrating, analyzing, and general fun-having that’s ensued since Matt Kirkland’s project, Dracula Daily, caught on with us back in 2022. The Substack had already been running before then, but it sparked a conflagration as time went on and readers old and new to Bram Stoker’s Dracula—the actual novel, not Coppola’s fanfiction—devoured it in a way that scratched an itch none of us knew we had. Stoker wrote the book in epistolary fashion, clumping sections together as needed for the pacing without perfect adherence to chronological order. Matt went ahead and put all the events in order and proceeded to set up a lovely chain of emails that delivered entries on those correlating dates.

This style of organization and pacing turned out to not only make the virtual book club that much easier to engage with, but left space in-between to stew on the story and relate with the characters themselves. Every day of waiting in the book feels weightier when you have to pace and sweat and worry in tandem with poor Jonathan trapped in the castle or Lucy wasting away or Mina running out the clock before she loses the fight for her own humanity. And while we sat with the story or the lulls between Dracula Seasons, some of us found ourselves craving more of that ghastly gothic horror goodness to the point that we figured:

“Well. Why don’t I make something?”

And then we did! Tons of creative works have been churned out in the wake of Dracula Daily’s high. I figured that while we’ve still got a bit of time to wait for May 3rd, we should check out all this new stuff in the meantime. (Plus a handful of neat stuff that just clicks with the Dracula itch overall.)

So, in the interest of Dracula Season pregaming, let’s take a look at…

FICTION

Blood of My Blood – A recent addition to the Dracula Bad Ending AU pile, and definitely one of the most harrowing and addictive group-produced narratives I’ve ever come across, Blood of My Blood is the dramatically gothic currently-WIP work of @ibrithir-was-here and @animate-mush’s devious design. Give or take a heap of other fascinated folks (hello!) adding ideas to put more Horror into the Horrors that our cast has to face. The premise:

The Transylvanian climax went fatally sour and the Harkers were forced to shelter with Dracula himself, including their half-vampire son, Quincey. Cut to two decades later, and Quincey finds himself out in modern London, smitten with Lu, adopted daughter of Arthur and Jack, and diving into certain bloodstained old documents that detail the real history of how his parents came to live in the castle. Said revelations coming not a moment too soon, as a storm is coming for him straight from the Carpathians…

Dracula Daily Sketch Collection – An array of illustrations that captures every entry beat by beat, the Dracula Daily Sketch Collection by Georgia Cook, alias @georgiacooked was dished out over the course of the last Dracula Season. Some of the most fun character designs out there.

Fanfiction Spotlight: BlueCatWriter – With a whopping 99 works devoted to the novel Dracula (so far, the number may have gone up since I blinked), @bluecatwriter is one of the most prolific and talented fanfiction scribblers out there. Romances, nightmares, and overlaps between the two seem to crop up the most, give or take a crossover. Seems fitting that those blue paw prints have contributed to BoMB too.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk – An ongoing comic in which all your favorite characters from the Classics section get together and tackle some perils ranging from the mundane to the monstrous. Started by the amazing @mayhemchicken and posted on @lxgentlefolkcomic, this series is a love letter to beloved Victorian era lit, with a spotlight on the two couples leading the League. Namely, the Harkers, ala Dracula, and the Nortons, ala Sherlock Holmes,’ “A Scandal in Bohemia.” Mina and Irene are the driving investigative and steering forces here, and still deeply in love with their likewise-infatuated husbands, just like in their canons! What a concept! Alan.

Without spoiling the full character list, just know there are going to be a ton of familiar faces roaming around before you finish reading the first arc. Said arc having conveniently wrapped up just a few days ago! Give the comic and its bonus silliness a look if you’re in the mood for a new comfort-adventure epic.

Re: Dracula – Probably the most well-known and incredible thing to come out of the initial Dracula Daily wave. This podcast is a full audio drama that follows the same format as the Substack, with episodes coming out in time with the entries themselves. And it has an unfairly cool soundtrack. They have a Tumblr with @re-dracula, a site and a Patreon to check out before the series kicks up again on May 3rd. (Also, keep an eye out for their next work, an audio drama in the same style with Carmilla.)

The Soldier and the Solicitor – Another treat from @ibrithir-was-here, this one involves a bit of time travel trouble. Quincey Harker has stumbled out of World War I and into the same dark forest where his father once fled for his life…then runs into the man himself, on that same night. Jonathan Harker, young and starved and lost, who has no choice but to trust this stranger while the Weird Sisters are at his heels…despite said stranger having no shadow. It’s a tasty emotional trek, already complete on Tumblr, but now it’s turning into a Webtoon. While Ibrithir is juggling a number of other stories, she’ll be redrawing spruced up versions of the comic and adding a few new scenes as things unfold.

Substack Stack – You know what’s better than one emailed-out public domain book club? A mountain of them. Just. So, so many of them. You’ll see that a lot of these are finished, but some are still ticking along. Either way, they’re all great picks if you’re craving some more old school lit to fill the void between undead emails.

Frankenstein Weekly – Frankenstein

Jekyll and Hyde Weekly – The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Voyage of the Nautilus – Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

Letters from Watson – Sherlock Holmes

The Invisible Mail – The Invisible Man

Letters from Bunny – E.W. Hornung’s short stories of the eponymous Bunny and Raffles

Letters Regarding Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse’s Bertie Wooster short stories, including the novel, Right Ho, Jeeves

…

……

………

…The Beetle Weekly – The Beetle (NOTE: Do Not Read This.)

The Vampyres – A novella I finally wrenched through the gears of self-publication as of March this year. Starring a petite but powerful paranormal cast, The Vampyres, centers on an unscrupulous undead fellow who finds that the revenants of the world are being mowed down by an entity known only as ‘Quinn Morse.’ Between trying to save his neck and figure out where the shadowy bastard came from, the Vampyre in question crosses paths with a new paramour and handy human shield in the form of a grieving Good Samaritan. He’s even polite enough to invite the Vampyre into his home while he’s in dire straits! Surely this will end well. All the info is available here and a little author site is over here.

What Manner of Man – This is the one made for everyone who started out hoping there’d be a real love story with our good friend Jonathan Harker and the Count when he was at his most charismatic. Where that sea of wonders dried up into a mire of horror, What Manner of Man by @stjohnstarling keeps things firmly on the romantic tracks. This Substack stars the letter-writing priest Father Victor E. Ardelian as he finds himself meeting with one enigmatic Lord Alistair Vane. It isn’t long before interest turns into intrigue and intrigue into undead intimacies.

The entire novel has been completed—along with multiple epilogues in the author’s Patreon, allowing readers to choose for themselves just how the uncanny romance plays out in the end—and the Substack now has a number of other gothic goodies piling up in the meantime.  

NONFICTION

Dracula Daily: A Unique Reading Experience: This one comes courtesy of @realwomenofgaming. It’s a short and sweet piece that amounts to a fun snapshot of the entire Dracula Daily ride. A cozy couple-minute read.

‘Dracula Daily’ is the One Substack You Need a Subscription To: Features my favorite Matt Kirkland interview. @mattkirkland, if you’re still floating around on here, thank you for dispatching our vampire newsletter again this year.

Dracula Daily is Tumblr’s hottest new book club: Alright, the ‘new’ part is worn out by now, but this one is still a delightful article to swing back around to. Two years on, this Polygon piece is a time capsule of those early months when people outside our bookworm bubble realized we were all happily receiving letters from our favorite classic gothic horror blorbos.  

“How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” – Princess Weekes, if you ever read this, thank you, thank you, thank you. I am sending oceans of love and millions of rewatches to your video essay. If you haven’t seen it yet, “How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” is one of the most refreshing and well-made breakdowns of both the title subject and numerous other issues that have proliferated in the public view of Dracula’s cast and plot as adaptations endlessly warp or outright bastardize the actual novel. An incredibly cathartic watch.  

Literary play gone viral: delight, intertextuality, and challenges to normative interpretations through the digital serialization of Dracula: A mouthful of a title for an even more elaborate article about the Dracula Daily phenomenon. This one is a full-on study that analyzes just what happened within the big bloodsucker book club surge and how its ‘wandering reading practices’ enriched the experience for participants.

 “The Undying Undead: An analysis of the Dracula Daily community for a theory of online community formation and interaction” – We have a thesis on here! Look at that! @sirangelothebestest’s MA thesis used our vampiric book club as the bones for a massive brick of an academic piece that definitely deserves a look.

…And I think I’ll go ahead and cap things here.

This isn’t everything I got recommended, but if I had squashed all of it in here, I think folks’ eyes would start to fall out of their head. I hope you can find something cool to comb through here. Or, if there’s something great I overlooked, tack it onto the list! We’ve got just two weeks to go until we’re off with Mr. Harker. Let’s enjoy our respite before those castle doors close behind us.

[7s3ven]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! Hybrid! Reader where…

Notes: Y/N is a Dobermann hybrid, abuse mentioned, hybrid au where reader is a human with animal-like features, cussing, just a short little thing I wanted to write (might extend it later), reader is described as tall

Ghost wanted to forget most things from his childhood. They were traumatic and induced a sense of fear in him that he absolutely loathed.

The one thing he never wanted to forget, however, was you.

You were a hybrid, basically a pet to the Riley family. Ghost’s parents never saw you as fully human but they bought you simply to shut him up. Ghost remembered blabbering on and on about wanting a pet and then you showed up one day, tail wagging at the thought of being adopted into a happy family. That dream was soon crushed.

You were just as abused as Ghost. You were hardly fed and when you were, it was off Ghost’s plate. You were his duty and despite being yelled at day and night about how you were always in the way, he continued to love you.

You and his brother were the only good things in Ghost’s life at the time.

Ghost recalled allowing you to sleep in his bed when it got too cold, how he would snuggle up to you to regain some warmth through his thin blanket.

You were particularly protective over Ghost, always sending his father pointed glares when the older man snapped at him.

You hated his father just as much as Ghost.

Life with you around was bearable. You never complained when Ghost returned home and immediately tackled you into a much needed hug, tears threatening to pour out of his eyes.

“The kids at school teased me about my bruises.” He whispered and in response, you kissed the dark marks marring his skin.

You made life better.

Ghost was in his older teenage years, ready to finally pack up and leave with you when you suddenly disappeared. His lifeline had been torn out of his grasp by his father, who remarked how he sold you to earn some more cash.

All Ghost remembered was seeing red that day and storming out of the house with his things, never to return to that dreaded house.

He joined the military and his one most important mission in life was to find you. It didn’t matter how many years passed and how many ranks he had climbed, you were still all he thought about.

The world was different now. Hybrids were seen as actual people instead of glorified pets. There was still no trace of you; his last lead was a dead end.

Ghost was ready to give up before Soap and Gaz dragged a tall figure into the room. “Found ‘er at the enemy base.” Soap uttered, “Was snipin’ our men left an’ right.”

The figure had a bag over her head but Ghost’s gaze immediately landed on the prominent outline of two long ears.

“Hybrid.” Gaz notices his staring, “Some kind of dog hybrid.”

The hybrid is anything but calm. It takes both Soap and Gaz to hold her back.

Ghost is quick to rip the sandbag off her head, coming face to face with a pair of familiar E/C eyes. You look the same, only a little older. Your left ear was damaged, there was some sort of tagged embedded in your right ear, and the sight of a shock collar around your neck made Ghost sick to the stomach.

Seeing your face was a reminder of the pain Ghost had faced during his early years. He almost had the urge to back away into the corner as memories flashed through is head. But he remained strong.

“Take that damn fuckin’ collar off ‘er.” Ghost spat, staring at the shock collar in disgust. You didn’t recognise his face because of his iconic skull mask but his voice had your ears flicking.

You stared at him with your head tilted at a low angle, almost seeming like you were glaring but Ghost knew better. You were simply observing him.

The moment Soap’s fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, you wildly flinched. Despite being retrained to a chair, you thrashed around, slamming the back of your head into Soap’s face.

“Ow, lassie! Calm down!” The Scot yelled.

Ghost was quick to weigh you down, placing his heavy hands on your shoulders. “Ay, bloody hell, lovie, ‘tis alright. He’s only tryna help.” Without a second thought, Ghost lifted his mask to give you a peek of his face before he lowered it again.

You finally stilled, ears twitching as you stared at Ghost.

“You know her?” Gaz questioned as he picked at the locked collar with a screwdriver.

“Yeah.” Ghost’s reply was short. The moment the collar’s lock came undone, he grabbed it and threw it against the wall.

“Based on her injuries and the collar, I’d say she wasn’t working with the terrorist group willingly.” Price uttered, “Someone’s gonna have to patch her up.”

“The lass has already screwed me over, I ain’ doing it.” Soap grunted, holding his swelling nose.

“I’ll do it.” Ghost butted in.

Without Ghost’s teammates, you felt more at ease. You sat on the bed in Ghost’s room, allowing him to clean your wounds.

No words needed to be exchanged for Ghost to understand your pain. You leaned into his embrace as he carefully wrapped his strong arms around you, not wanting to alert you.

“Ain’ never letting ya go again, lovie. That’s a promise. Ya never gotta see my father or those terrorists again. I’ve got ya. You’re safe.”

[empresskylo]

ghost headcanons?!! 🙏🥹

headcanons involve reader being referred to as "she" and afab.

♡ it took you a while to even realize simon was interested in you. the man does not communicate well. my guy would stare at you and you’d think he’s pissed off, but really he’s just trying to get your attention. he’d tease you during missions and you’d just assume he’s being kinda mean. he'd roll his eyes at stupid remarks you'd make, not knowing he was smiling under his mask. he seemed to avoid any direct training with you and you assumed he didn't think you worthy of his time, but really, he just wasn't sure what he'd do if he was forced to be that close to you... touching you.

♡ it isn’t until one day when you’re sparring with soap that ghost steps in. you’re busy tackling soap to the ground, both of you bursting out into a fit of giggles as you straddle him. when simon enters the room his fist automatically tightens. when soap looks up, he immediately stops laughing and shoves you off of him (affectionately). later that night, johnny approaches simon. “hey, Lt. just so you know, there’s nothing between me and—“ “why is that any of my business?” johnny looks at him, his eyebrows quirking upwards. “you know why.” simon grumbles something and storms off.

♡ the day you actually realize ghost likes you is when you’re walking around base in far less clothing than usual. Normally you were either all geared up, covered head to toe, or in a more relaxed sweat attire for relaxing around base. But today there was a heat wave. your hair was down, clinging to your face from the sweat, your abdomen exposed as you walked by him in a cropped tank, your small spandex shorts riding up. ghost did a double take. you teased him (not thinking anything of it; you would have teased any of the men.) “like what you see, Lt.?” ghost glared at you, unable to say anything. your eyes widened. shit, he actually did like what he was seeing.

♡ he is a very, very jealous man. he's not insecure or anything like that, he just can't help but seethe when he sees you acting a little too friendly with anyone else. he wants that side of you all to himself. he also can't stand watching other men come onto you, or acting a little too handsy. he's often ready to chop a man's hand off just for even thinking about flirting with you.

♡ one day as you're just strolling around base, heading to the gym for some training, gaz spied you, looking you up and down. he nudged ghost, who was standing beside him, in a check-her-out gesture; y’know, typical guy stuff. when gaz looked up, ghost was already glaring down at him, not nodding in agreement like he thought he would be. gaz choked, extremely uncomfortable under Lt.‘s death glare (no one likes when ghost had that fury in his eyes). “don’t look at her like that ever again.” gaz raised his hands, a bit panicked, not sure what he did wrong. “okay, shit.” “i’m serious, gaz. i will fucking kill you.” (always the dramatics with ghost.)

♡ you were rather close with soap, and so was simon, but it still bothered him seeing you two together. simon watched as your face visibly blushed at some remark soap made. that alone infuriated him. But then the two of you burst into giggles, your hand reaching out and grabbing soap’s forearm as you leaned forward, laughing. shortly after, you found your way to simon brooding in the corner. “what’s up your ass?” you asked teasingly, but simon wasn’t feeling the same humor as you were. “oh, i’m sorry,” he said with sarcasm, “should i be smiling and jumping up and down with joy as i watch my girlfriend’s face flush as she sits there giggling with another man?” you were surprised—not because simon was acting jealous, but because it was over soap of all people. you and simon both were friends with johnny. “simon…” you said breathlessly, getting him to look down at you, his eyes immediately softening as he looked at you. he sighed, “i know, i know,” he said raising his hands to rub the back of his head. “i just can’t help it. i hate seeing you respond to others like how you respond to me,” his hand came out and cupped your jaw, his thumb resting on your lower lip. “i jus' want you all to myself.”

♡ ghost is needy (-: he’s just a big brute of a man who likes leaning into your chest as you cradle his head, running you hands through his hair, relaxing him. nothing wrong with that.

♡ i mean, this man has some serious trauma, so it’s safe to say the first time you ever comforted him, he was… surprised. unsure of what to do or how to react. he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction from you. and at first he was put off. he didn’t need that kind of coddling, he was supposed to be an anchor for you, not the other way around. but he succumbed to your soft touches and gentle words, eventually tearing up, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, your lap, or your chest while you would run fingers through his hair or rub his back, caressing him as much as you could. and eventually, that became something simon craved. sought out. dreamt about. god, he never would have thought he’d be the type of person who would seek out your comforting hugs, wanting to hold you close against his chest as your fingers danced across his skin. or when you’d lay next to him in bed, you’d stroke his jaw, run your thumb over his lips, rest your hands on his chest right above his heart, and simon would shut his eyes, feeling his own form of safety in your arms.

♡ and yes he loves to cuddle and hold you close, but sometimes it felt so fucking good to be held by you. if you were laying on the couch, he’d crawl on top of you, stopping to rest his head on your chest, his heavy body squishing you, his arms coming up to wrap around you as he lay on top of you, your hands twirling strands of his hair.

♡ but he also loved to hold you in his arms and comfort you. there was something so powerful in feeling needed by someone else. he both loved and hated it. but mostly loved it. he liked to be the big spoon, pulling you against his chest, curling into you, literally engulfing you. his favorite thing was when you would sit on his lap though. sometimes you'd lay in his lap, like if you were watching tv, and sometimes you'd come to him, straddle him, and he'd wrap his arms around you, letting you nuzzle into his neck while he traced circles on your back under your shirt.

♡ simon, as much as he attempts to act all stoic and emotionless, is actually very emotional and passionate.

♡ i mean, just by seeing how jealous he gets says a lot. but he also feels other strong emotions. like anger and love.

♡ when ghost realized he loved you, it ate him up from the inside. he had this burning, heady love for you and he didn’t know how to show it. everyone around him seemed capable of expressing their feelings, so why couldn’t he? he just wasn't used to it. he suppressed emotions close to him for so long, it was hard to let them back out again. he would usually profess his love for you when he's had too much to drink. or late at night while you were curled into him after a long mission. it was always after long and difficult missions that he wanted to tell you how he felt the most. he'd usually whisper it in your ear, reminding you how much he cares for you. you'd tell him that you're not going anywhere and simon would squeeze you tighter in response. just those few simple words meant so much to him. he couldn't stand the idea of losing you.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

♡ size kink! size kink! size kink! he's very comfortable in his stature and he is so obsessed with being bigger than you. he loves how tiny your hands look in his. loves having to look down at you, especially when you're mad at him because having to look up at him made you feel silly while you were trying to yell at him. and his stupid smirk didn't help.

♡ and i'm just gonna say it, my guy has a big dick. like the energy matches what's in the pants. and he really enjoys watching you squirm under him while he bottoms out. it always takes a bit to fit him inside and he never gets over that. the way you whimper every fucking time drives him mad.

♡ praise kink!!!! yes sir. he loves to praise YOU. its his favorite thing. its so crazy to him that when he's balls deep inside you, his cute little comments about how good you feel or how pretty you are, makes you blush/get all shy. "you're being so good for me, baby." "god, you feel so fucking amazing." "you're so damn tight." "good girl." "just like that." "fuck, the sounds you're making are so hot." "i'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doin' that, love."

♡ he also likes to call you such cute pet names. it's a nice juxtaposition to the dark, rough exterior he presents. especially when he likes to tease and make crude jokes with the guys. but then he'll whisper something to you so no one else can hear and he'll call you 'princess.'

♡ his favorite names to call you: pet, princess, love, sweet girl!!!! god damn, just hearing his thick accent calling you those names has me swooning. his favorite to use while you're having sex is pet and sweet girl. "gimmie those eyes, sweet girl." "gettin' shy on me now, pet?" other names he likes to call you, just not as regularly: "baby, baby girl, little *insert cute animal here* (little fox, little dove, little doe), sunshine.

♡ he likes when you call him pet names even though he might pretend to hate it. loves specifically being called: my love, handsome, bear, cutie (he'll give you shit for this one, but he always has a shit-eating grin on under his mask when you call him that), big guy.

♡ he's dominant. like so dominant. he likes to be in control. he likes to watch you whither beneath him. he likes to know he's the one doing this to you. the only one. "tell me i'm the only- fuck -one. tell me I'm the only one who makes you come like this."

♡ enjoys missionary a lot because he can look at you in the eyes. he definitely likes to be making eye contact while he fucks you. which is super important to him, especially considering how fucked up his past is, he needs this kind of trust and closeness when he's fucking you.

♡ doggy style is fun, and his hands always leave bruises on your hips. but usually when he takes you from behind, you're both standing. that or he has you bent over something.

♡ he likes to fuck you from behind while standing, his hand gripped around your neck, pulling you up to him so he can see your face and kiss your neck.

♡ he is very much a tease. he likes to torture you all day, making you beg for it at the end of the night. you on your knees is his favorite sight. "tell me what you want, love." "you're gonna have to ask nicer than that." "beg for it."

♡ simon had you on your knees before him, your pants missing but your shirt still in place, your hands twisting the hem of it as you looked at him. his hand came out to stroke your chin, tilting it towards him as he rubbed his thumb along your lower lip. "what do you want from me, pet?" he asked, tilting his head as he appraised you. you gulped. "you." your words were whispered, a cynical smirk forming on simon's lips. "you're gonna have to be more specific than that." you were about to just demand he fuck you, you were getting so impatient, but you knew he only would if you asked sweetly. your face felt hot, shy all of a sudden. simon knew you got shy when he made you beg, and fucking hell, he loved seeing you like that. "i want you to fuck me, simon." he smiled, kicking up a brow. "please," you added. "well since you asked nicely," he said undoing his belt. "but first, you'll have to earn my cock." he lowered his pants and freed himself, his tip already glistening in precum. his hand slid down your jaw and pushed fallen strands of hair behind your ear. "open up that pretty little mouth of yours," he cooed.

[imbored1201]

Hello may I request teen lionesses reader who is very naughty off the field but an amazing player on the pitch and Leah always has to deal with her ..the reader also plays for barca.thabk you

The Photos

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairing: Lionesses x Teen Reader

It was her first camp back, and all Leah wished for was for you to be on your best behavior. She should have known that was never going to happen. She had even gotten a warning from Lucy and Keira that you were acting out more than usual. Lucy and Keira always got the front row seats to your actions. 

She had a whole folder of videos Lucy took of you apologizing for your actions. Then a bunch of messages from Alexia, telling her everything you did. She knew you were taking advantage of the fact that you wouldn’t be seeing her for a very long time. Millie mostly ignored your mischief, just warning you to leave her and Rachel alone. 

Sarina let you have your fun as long as you weren’t causing drama or physical harm. Overall, your little pranks weren’t harmful; Alessia and Toone did tend to be overly dramatic when you pranked them. When you dumped water on Ella, she acted like she was being burned alive. 

————

"Give it back," Leah sighed, hearing Alessia's yells. "Y/N, give it back!" She yelled, not even bothering to get up and check what was going on. She heard more giggling, and soon you were jumping on her lap. 

"Stop being mean to Alessia," Leah scolded. "I didn't do anything; she's a baby." You smiled at the look she gave you. You loved getting a reaction out of Leah. 

“Y/N, behave. Do I need to get Alexia to give you another talk?” "No,” you mumbled, giving back the phone. 

“Lessi never wants to hang out with me." Leah rolled her eyes. She knew it was just an act to make yourself look innocent. “Maybe stop messing with her and hang out with her like a normal person,” you hummed, starting to think of a plan. “Okay” 

————

You smiled to yourself as you knocked on Alessia’s door. You somehow convinced Sarina to tell you.

“Why are you here?” You quickly pushed your way inside, jumping on her bed. “Please. What do you want from me?” You ignored her, grabbing the controller to find a good movie. 

“Please text Leah and tell her I’m with you,” she shook her head, storming outside. “Leah!” You groaned and chased after her, tackling her. 

“I want to watch movies with you,” she huffed, pushing you off her. “You're not up to anything?” You looked her straight in the eyes and shook your head. 

“Fine, but one little move, and I’m calling Leah.” You shrugged and went back inside to watch TV, watching as Less ignored your presence and only paid attention to her phone. 

“I forgot my phone,” you told her. She looked up at you for a second, then back to her phone. “Then go get it." “I’m not allowed to be awake at this time; Leah is already going to be mad that I came here without telling her.” 

“Right, it's your bedtime. Child,” you huffed, snatching her phone away. “Y/N, I swear." “Please get my phone,” she sighed, and got up. 

"Oh, and can you also go get snacks? I heard Lotte convince the lady at the front desk to hide a bunch for her.” “Are you serious?” You nodded and smiled at the way Lessi’s eyes lit up. 

“Just tell her Lotte asked you to get some for a movie night." Alessia nodded, quickly leaving the room to get everything over with. 

————

The password was easy. It was just her birthday. You went to Tooney’s contact, getting into the photos section. You knew about the little war they had going on during the United Days. 

You giggled when you found the ugly photos. Photos that weren’t allowed to go out to the public. They had a contract about it. You could take the ugliest photos, but you weren’t allowed to post them. 

Then you proceeded to delete the messages between you and Alessia on her phone that mostly consisted of all the tiktoks you sent her, even though you never got a reply. 

You kept an innocent smile on when she walked back in, holding a bunch of snacks and throwing them on the bed. 

“Here are your snacks; if Lotte finds out, we are blaming it on Toone.” You nodded and snatched your favorite candy before Less would grab it. “Please don’t fall asleep first, like always,” you scoffed. “I never do, and I won't.” 

Soon enough, you were passed out on her bed while she tried to make the floor as comfortable as possible to sleep on. 

Surprisingly, you woke up before Alessia. She didn’t want to share a bed because of the last sleepover. She claimed you kept kicking in your sleep. Even though she had a bruise to prove it, you still refused to believe her. 

————

You giggled to yourself as you made your way to eat with the team. “Leah!” You yelled happily when you saw your best friend coming out of her room, and you quickly made an attempt to jump on her back. You pouted when she moved out of the way and tripped you. 

“What the fuck" She glared at you. “Watch your language,” you muttered a sorry. “I would tell you not to say it again, but we both know you will.” She still gave you a piggyback ride. 

“I won't say it again." “Stop lying, kid; it’s bad." You held yourself back from saying something dumb. Leah was already annoyed, and it was going to get worse once Alessia saw what you did. “I won't lie again.” 

Leah stayed silent, knowing you were most likely going to lie about something in the next 10 minutes. 

————

You sat next to Lucy, ranting to her about some new celebrity crush of yours while she pretended to listen. At times, she found your ranting cute; other times, she wanted to strangle you to shut you up. 

“Y/N!” You jumped hearing your name being yelled. “Who yelled my name?” You asked Lucy, “Sounded like Less.” You relaxed at that; as long as it wasn’t Leah or Sarina, you were fine. 

You shrieked as you saw Alessia running at you full force, looking like she was going to tackle you. Before she could, Millie grabbed her. 

"How did you get these?!” She waved the phone in front of your face, you took it, starting to giggle at all the terrible pictures that you posted. 

“I don’t know,” you tried, knowing you were caught but wanting to annoy Alessia more. 

"What did we talk about yesterday?" You huffed at hearing Leah’s voice. There goes all the fun. 

"Lying is bad." Leah nodded. "Tell the truth." You looked to Lucy for help, who just shrugged at you and continued to eat. 

"I'll tell Alexia." Keira threatened you. "I did it." Alessia groaned, "How did you even get these?” “The messages between you and Tooney” 

“How did you figure out my password?” She wanted to be mad, but it was pretty impressive how fast and quiet you moved around about this. Usually it was easy to tell when you were up to something. 

“You told me before; it's your birthday,” she shook her head. “I would never do that.” "Well, you did.” You hugged Leah as Alessia advanced towards you. 

“At least she knows your birthday.” You nodded at Lucy’s words, holding onto Leah tight. “Everyone knows my birthday, it only takes a quick search.” Alessia sighed in frustration. 

“Delete it” She tried to peel you away from Leah, which only made you hold on tighter. “Less, it’s been up for an hour; I’m sure everyone has taken screenshots, and they're being posted everywhere. Look, some people already have them as their profile pictures.” Toone couldn't hold back her laugh as she clicked on some of the profiles. 

“Come here,” she pulled you harder, and you squealed, jumping on Leah. "Leah, please,” you giggled as Alessia started tickling your sides.

“Okay, give me the kid; I can’t let you murder her." You clung onto Lucy as she grabbed you and pulled you away from Alessia. 

"Well, tell your kid to behave. Leah, tell her." Leah sighed and grabbed your shoulder. “Apologize” before you could say something snarky. Leah showed you Alexia’s contact. 

“I’m sorry” Leah nodded and put away the phone again. “Thank you for apologizing, I know it’s hard for you.” You smiled at the praise, sticking your tongue out at Alessia, who looked angrier seeing how you just got away with ruining her life so quickly. 

“Now please, let us eat in peace, and Lucy will tell Alexia you were very good." Lucy nodded in agreement and watched as you sat down. 

“What about me?” You giggled at Alessia, who was now being dragged away by Tooney. “You set yourself up by letting her into your room in the first place.” 

“Extra laps” You stared at Leah, trying to see if she was joking or not. You looked at Lucy, who just shrugged and continued to eat. 

You really didn’t care; it was worth it, in your opinion. 

[briefalpacashark]

~Ghost of the Past~

=Part Two=

Warning: Violence, death, graphic scenes.

Cleared area your ass. You saw three of your former team. Jamie was standing out in the open. He was dazed stumbling around while holding his gut. He didn't see the enemy, but you did. You crash tackled the poor lad behind a piece of felled debris as bullets rained down upon you. You felt a hot pain travers up your arm. You checked to see only a bullet graze. Jamie on the other hand. 

“Fuck,” You whispered seeing his spitting shoulder hit. And the hole in his lower stomach. Readjusting you gun you peeked over your cover taking out a few of the advancing enemies. At your returned fire they all moved for cover. It gave you a really short amount of time to bind Jamie shoulder with a pressure bandage. You checked in the bullet had gone straight though his stomach only to see it hadn't. You returned fire again before stuffing gaze into the hole. All the while Jamies head rolled around with disoriented pained grunts.

“This is Doc. Requesting medevac,” you spoke into the coms. What greeted you was static. 

"It's gonna be ok Jamie, I got you mate," you said.

“This is doc, is anyone there?” you spoke again. Your eyes widened when the click of metal got you attention. A grenade had landed beside you. Faster than your brain could comprehend you grabbed it chucking it back over, throwing your body on Jamie. The blast rocked you slightly, throwing all manner of barbies and dust over you.

“THIS IS DOC! IS ANYONE THERE OVER!?” You yelled into the comm. Across the way you saw your other old team members pinned behind a building.

“I NEED assistance. Im pinned down,” you spoke again. 

“Well, this sounds familiar,” Adam's cold voice invaded your ears. Turning the swirling storm of panic into a sharped edged blade. He had cut your comms of from everyone else's. Set up a line just for the two of you.

“The fuck is happening Adam. You said this area was cleared,” you hissed.

“Oh did I. Must have been my mistake,” he muttered.

“I need assistance. Jamies down,” you hated him, you wanted to kill him. but you hoped that he still had some good in him. if not for you then for Jamie.

“Pity, sorry can't help you. It looks mighty dangerous over there,” your eyes wafted over the battlefield. You found Adam standing a way away. With a shit eating grin on his face. Half of your team was with him. They were moving away from the action, towards the exit. the panic stabbed right through your heart at the all to familiar sight.

“What the fuck are you doing Adam?” you asked. They were leaving you.

“We got orders to retreat. But it seems like they have a comm blocker. Can't get into touch with team bravo,” your blood ran cold, panic sweeping the breath from you lungs. Bravo team. The boys. 

“Looks like our intel was wrong to. Seems to be a lot more bogies than originally thought,” he stated a cackling chuckle leaving his lips.

“Good luck Maddog,” he smiled giving you a mock salute before turning and leaving. If it was any other situation you would have taken a moment to let the situation sink in. But this was battle, one moment could mean the difference between life and death. 

“GET OVER HERE!” You yelled across the way your old team members grateful for the sanctuary of orders in their blind panic. Rising up you provided covered as they rushed towards you.

“Mad dog,” Anna greeted your briefly. She swallowed unsure of what you were about to do. She was surprised when you placed you hand on her shoulder.

"You hit?" you still wore the same concerned frown you always had. She didn't understand why you still cared for her. Not after what she did. She numbly shock her head the other doing so as well.

“Take him and get your asses out of here,” you ordered nodding down to Jamie.

“Yes ma'am,” she nodded. You pulled a pin of a grenade and threw it. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as you sprinted down the hallways. Everybody you passed you searched for familiar features. Soap's mohawk. Ghosts mask. Prices hat. Gaz cap. It was a brutal game of tag between dread and relief. Then you saw them. Standing around a group of captured soldiers like it was a Tuesday lunch.

“Comms are on the fritz,” Gaz announced.

“Anyone got Doc's location?” Price asked.

“I'm here!” You announced. They all turned to you taking in your appearance. you were covered in dust. Sweat lines dragging through it like art.

“You look like shite,” Price grinned at you. Relife, utter relief filled you. They were ok. They were alive.

“Your hit,” Soap took notice of the blood first as they moved towards you.

“Just a scratch. We've got orders to retreat,” you stated. The boys frowned.

“But we completed the mission?” Gaz stated. They had. Lucky bastards cleared out the whole base themselves. 

“Those are the orders. Comms are being blocked,” you stated. 

“Alright, let's get going lads,” Price announced. You quickly made your way from the base and back to the transport. As you drove back you couldn't help but stare at the boys. Your heart was still pounding. The boys were joking about something or other. You looked down to Ghost hand that rested against his thigh. You were suddenly overcome by the need to see if it was real. If they were real. To make sure it wasn't some fantasies you had conjured up in your head. Ever so slightly your fingertips took ahold of the lose fabric. A deep breath left your lips as you held it tightly. He was there. They all were. Throwing you head back you rested it against the side of the truck tears glistening between your lashes. Ghost looked down at your hand, at your spaced breathing pattern. At the slight pinch of your brows as you finger clung so desperately onto his sleeve. Feeling pressure on you left side you opened your eyes to see Ghost had pressed himself against you. Your relished in the warmth and reassurance it gave you. It was subtle, unnoticed by the other boys. But it grounded you. Pulling your head out of the 'what ifs' to the now. 

When you got back to base your eyes locked in on Adam. He was laughing with his team. When they noticed you guys, they seemed shocked. Understandable, not many could do what your boys could.

“So, they weren't joking when they said you guys meant business. Gotta say I'm impressed,” Adam stated with a wide blown smile. Your team stopped in front of them.

You didn't.

It took three large strides to close the distance between you. And only a second for you to pull your knife from its holster and shove it against Adams neck, your other hand gripping his collar to hold him stead. 

“THE FUCK YOU PLAYING AT HUH!?” You screamed.

“Whoah hey hehehe,” he held his hands up in surrender.

“DOC STAND DOWN!” Price's order went over your head.

“I swear to god, anyone touches me, and I'll cut his throat,” you threat was real. You wanted them to give you an excuse to do it.

“Its alright Maddog. The fights over. Your safe,” Adam went to put a hand on your shoulder. His movements only stopped when you pushed the knife flush against his neck slicing the skin ever so slightly.

“How fucked up in the head are you? What makes you think you can get away with this huh?” you asked. The sly smile pulled over his lips.

“I dont know what you mean,” he said innocently. Fury, utter fury raged within you. You could feel you hand wanting to move. Wanting to slice his neck open and watching him bleed out infront of you.

“Y/N,” Price called softly. You were breathing erratically as you hand shock. Most thought you would actually do it. You flinched lightly as a hand encompassed your own. You looked to the side to see Ghost. His gaze soft. 

“Its alright. We got you,” he whispered softly. His hand trailed up your arm. to your hand which he gave a soft squeeze before pulling it back. He gently took the knife from your grasp. And you let him. 

“Good choice,” Adam swallowed. Your fist snapped out cracking into his face sending him on his ass. Ghost wrapped his arms around you pulling you back where Soap took the other side of you. 

“Enough!” Price yelled stepping between you two. 

“I don't give a fuck what you do to me. But the next time you throw my boys under the bus like that again it will be a bullet I put though your face. Not my fucking fist,” you seethed glaring dagger at him. He chuckled whipping the blood from his broken nose.

“And that's why she's called mad dog,” he uttered getting to his feet with the help of his men. Some which held guilty looks.

“Keep that one on a short leash captain. She can tend to wander,” you tried to get a second hit in, but the boys held you back.

“Walk it off sargent!” Price deamned pointing you in the opposite direction. 

“Yeah, walk it off,” Adam tainted. Price turned to glare at him.

“You stay the fuck away from her you understand boy," Price got into his face talking to his as if he would scold a child. And Adam hated that. Ripping yourself form the boys grasp you turned on you heel and stomped away. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were all informed that another mission would take place the day after. After the whole ordeal the boys had looked for you. They were worried about you. You had completely disappeared. Nobody knew where you were. You hadn't signed out of the base. So, Gaze tracked your phone.

So there you stood hidden in the bushes as you stared at a certain grave not to far from you. You heard the boys walk up to your side. You were wearing a hood an a medical mask to cover your features.

“Visiting an old friend?” Price asked. They had all lost someone special to them. Whether it be a fellow soldier or family. You had hardly talked about your past, so they didn't know who you lost. 

“You guys shouldn't be here,” you whispered softly. Then from the hill emerged two people. And older man in his late fifties. Under his arm sat a bottle of whiskey. He had lanky legs and a beer belly. With a kind old smile on his face.

“Come on. You know how she gets when were late,” he called behind him. 

“Coming dad,” a teenage ran up to him. He had tosseled brown hair and stood just about as tall as his dad.

“Who are they?” Gaz asked.

“My family,” you whispered.

“You sure lass. Height dosent really add up,” Soap joked softly.

“What can I say. I lost the gene lottery,” you shrugged.

“You gonna go say hi?” Price asked.

“No,” you whispered solemnly. Getting the message that you wanted to be quiet they all slipped into silence.

“Still ordering me around huh?” A woman with olive skin and black hair walked up to them. A steak of silver shone in her perfect updo.

“We were married for eighteen years. I think I deserve some penance for my sentence,” the two smiled at each other. The divorce had been amicable, and they had become good friends after it. 

“Goodmorning sweetheart,” you father called softly a solemn smile gracing his features as they approached the grave.

“Sup cunt,” Your brother stated earning a slap from your mother.

“Dont be mean. Go on tell her what you did,” she encouraged him.

“So rember when you said I had a knack for engine and stuff. And I laughed and said I was just gonna become a millionaire,” he trailed o scratching the back of his neck. “Well, I got a scholarship to this really good school. Everything paid for. Dad was really happy about that,” the joke had your family smiling.

“It turns out you were right. I'm doing well. Really well. Skipped a grade. And I'm really enjoying it,” he stated.

“Got his cherry popped to,” you father said earning a blush from you brother.

"Her names Ella. Sweet little thing. Shes got him by the balls," your mother stated.

"Mum," he groaned with a heavy blush.

“I meet a man. His name is Greg. I think I'll being him next time,” your mother said.

“He's a cunt,” you father stated. 

“He's better in bed than your father,” she stated. You smiled as they slipped into their usual banter. The insults having the weight of jack shit. 

“Found this hidden in your little secret compartment,” you dad tapped his nose with a knowing look. The boys watched on as they talked to the grave like it was an actual person.

“Have a drink with your old man yeah?” he suggested. The drink was passed around as they all poured some in their cups. An extra cup was set atop the grave. 

“To our little girl. Shortest little shit I've ever meet,” they cheer.

"Happy birthday darling," you mother said. It was silent after that. Your family moved to hold each other as they mourned. Tears falling to the freshly cut grass.

“She would have been so proud of you,” you mother whispered running her hand through your brothers hair. 

“She would have been proud of us all. Thats just how she is,” he whispered back. You watched as they drank and talked about there lives. What they had been up to. The sun had begun to set when they decided to leave. Your bother lingered slightly tears rushing down his face.

“I miss you bitch,” he mumbled knocking his knuckles on the edge of the grave. The boys knew that move. You would do that to them wherever they went in for a fist bump. He turned and walked away. With a heavy heart you watched them leave. “Why didn't you say hello?” Soap asked. You didn't answer, instead you walked up to the grave and took the drink in hand. You swirled it around watching the car pull away. The boys slowly walked up to you examining the grave.

Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. 

Beloved daughter, friend and soldier.

“The fuck is this?” Soap asked in shock. They were all shocked, but they quickly put two and two together.

“It was part of the deal,” you rolled the words on your touge.

“What deal?” Price asked. You wanted to tell them. No, you needed to tell them. You couldn't go on another mission with the bloody hells. You had gotten lucky. Extremely lucky. Sure, telling them the truth might put you in a dangerous situation, but you would do it to protect them. And you trusted them.

“Way back there was a mission. Things went south. Adam got his hands on some valuable information. I stayed behind to make sure everyone was safe. And when I went to regroup with them,” you trailed off your throat becoming tight.

“They didn't wait for me. They left. Leaving me in a deep hole of shit. I was captured. Tortured for the information Adam had stolen. When they realized I wouldn't break they proposed a deal. The information for me. Adam didn't agree,” you recalled the events.

“The information wasn't intergyral, but it did make him rich. I don't know what he did with it. Probably sold it to a third party. When I realized, nobody was coming to save me, I got myself out. Came back here only to find out that they had all given reports that they had seen me gunned down. That they confirmed I was dead. Head office chucked it up to some bull shit Mirical. Having escaped I had a lot of heat on me. I had fucked around with some pretty important people. Friendly and otherwise. Turns out a lot of important people had their hands all over that mission. They went after my family. I made a deal with the military. In exchange for my families safely I would become there lacky,” you said nodding to the grave. “If I stayed quiet about it all,” you added.

“By all official records I am dead. Only a few choices military know otherwise. They thought I was a nifty little card to hold. Someone they could send where every they want to do whatever they wanted. No red strings attached. Someone that technically didn't exist. A ghost,” you chuckled bitterly.

"I was actually doing their dirty work when we first meet. I was surprised when they gave the green light to join the 141," you took a sip of the drink.

“In the end I was supposed to die on that mission. They used my family as leverage to insure I had,” you whispered looking deep into the dark liquid.

“Why are you telling us now? Wy not before?” Price asked solemnly.

“He threated you guys, told me to behave,” you admitted.

“So why tell us?” Ghost asked.

“Because I'm scared,” you admitted honestly. Your breath shock as you turned to them your eyes welling with tears.

“On that mission. He cut the comms. He lied bout the numbers. He sent you guys into a trap and he fucking smirked at me while he did it,” your hands trembled as they gripped the drink.

“I was so scared I had lost you guys,” you said. 

“I was scared to lose another family,” you cried. It meant a lot to the boys to hear that. That word. Family. That exactly what they were to you. And that's exactly what you were to them.

"But were here love. Were all alright,” Gaz tried to lighten you up.

“By sheer dumb luck!” you snapped.

“I know I might lose you one day. I've known that for a long time. Were soldiers. That comes with the uniform, but I'll be dammed if I let that fucker be the one that does it,” you huffed. Silence washed over you as you looked each of them in the eye stopping at Ghost. “You guys mean too much to me,’" you added. "So please. Don't send us on another mission with him,” you begged turning to Price. 

“He can't know I told you about it ither,” you added. Price walked up to you his expression deathly serious. 

“Then why would he risk you coming back here?” he asked. You shrugged frustrated with it all.

“I-I don't know. I don't know if he's goanna hurt my family. If he's gonna hurt, you. If he wants to finish the job he started?” you gestured to him. There it was again. That anxiety. Seeing the start of your panic Price stepped forward again. 

“Come er,” you were slightly surprised when he pulled you into his chest. He held you firmly as he tucked you head under his chin. 

“It's gonna be alright love. You've done well,” he whispered. It felt like the hugs your father used to give. You reached up gripping the back of his shirt and hugging him tightly the tears free falling.

“We got you,” he whispered.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On the drive back you were sandwiched in the back with Ghost and Soap. You had been silent since the graveyard. Which wasn't like you.

“Can we get hungry jacks?” You asked. It was a relief to the boys to hear that. At least you were still hungry.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Price nodded. It was quite funny watching price try and order for the whole car. Especially because the drive thru guy couldn't understand there accents half the time. And Soap yelling from the back just made it worse. After getting the food you picked away at it happily as you drove back to base. Ghost paused as he felt a wight drop against his shoulder. He looked down at you to see you fast asleep. You mouth open mid chew. A burger in one hand and a drink in the other. Soap smiled when he noticed taking a quick picture before taking the food from your hands. When the car stopped, they all piled out, except Ghost and you.

“Coming?” Soap asked bending down through the door.

“I'll stay a little bit,” Ghost whispered. Soap smiled knowingly giving a nod and silently closing the door. 

It was two hours before you stirred awake. 

“We here?” you asked finishing chewing the remnants of the burger.

“Yeah,” Ghost murmured getting out of the car. You followed after him frowning when you saw a wet patch on his shoulder. Whipping the dribbled form the corner of your lips you shrugged.

"You got a wet patch there," you stated.

"No I don't," he stated.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next day you and the boys sat down decided on what to do. When you explained in more detail about what went down in the mission the boys were furious. 

And lets just say that the 141 gets even. 

The mission involved clearing out a safe house of sorts. A back up base. During the next mission you walked into a room, gun raised with Gaz on point. You were right behind him. Everything was going perfectly. Till it wasn't. 

The movement was so quick you only saw what had happened when you turned. Gaz stood, with Adam behind him. A gun pressed against his temple. Terror took ahold of you as you mad eye contact with Gazs own fear filled pupils. You paused in the doorway. Adam didn't know the other two were there. 

“Let him go Adam, lower the gun” you demanded. Price and Ghost pressed themselves against the wall. 

“Come on Maddog. You know I can't do that,” he stated. You glanced out the doorway as Price held up five fingers. He was asking how many were in the room. You glanced around. It was only Adam. 

“Looking for your friends?” he asked. Price had told him the team would split in two. It was part of your plan. Price slowly put his fingers down.

“Of course,” You answered when Price got to one. Price turned to Ghost giving him hand signs before nodding him off. He looked back at you tapping his watch. 

Buy some time. They were your orders. The comms was open so you could hear Ghost rapid footsteps.

“Unlike you I know they have my back,” you said.

“Cute. Drop the gun,” he ordered.

“Or I can shoot you,” You suggested.

“I know you're a good shoot but that's cutting it a bit close huh?” he asked sliding further behind Gaz. He was right. You ran the risk of hitting Gaz. 

“Get him Doc,” Gaz encouraged you. Your face scrunched up as Adam shock him slightly pressing the barrel painfully further into his skull. Chucking you gun to the side you glared.

“Good girl. Now on your knees,” he demanded. You obeyed.

“Put those on,” he kicked forward a pair of zip ties. 

“What are you doing Adam? Whats your plan this time huh?” you asked.

“Well, this plan is a little more brutal than my last. After all I tried so hard to make it look like an accident. I knew you bleeding heart wouldn't leave that kid. I even told then to target you as well. But no, you just won't die huh? You should have just died Y/N,” he hissed. You stared at him. 

Adam was more than just your former commander. He was your best friends since diapers. You had grown up together. Your bond used to be the strongest in the world. You had entered the military together, built up your carrers and skills side by side.

“What happened to you Adam?” You asked. The man before you was a shadow of the one you once loved so dearly.

“I got smart, that's what happened,” he spat.

“This isn't like you. The Adam I knew would have never sold me out for a lousy paycheck,” you were buying time. But you were also trying to reason with your friend. 

“Would you just quit it. I've always been on the bottom run. Always poor. Do you know how differently they looked at me with my raggy shoes?” he asked.

“So you sold me out to get rich then?” you asked.

"Wow. Smart you are. And no, I didn't sell you out. You were just a chess piece. A tool to get what I wanted” he said.

“You know that's not true,” you murmered. You could see it, the conflict inside him, however small it was it was still there. 

“Please, just put down the gun,” you begged. For a second he saw you, only a younger you. And instead of begging to put his gun down you were begging him to stop shooting you with a water gun. You wore such a bright smile. Perhaps he had loved you once. Along time ago. But that side of him had died a long time ago.

"I really should have killed you that day," he admitted.

"Then why didn't you?" you asked.

"Because I was weak. I let you live because I didn't have the guts to kill you myself," he hissed.

"Thats not a problem now," Your eye's widened as the gun turned to you. The window shattered as Ghost emerged from it having sung down from the higher level. The distraction allowing Gaz to shove Adam back. All the while you pulled your handgun from its hoister and pulled the trigger.

Two shots' still rung out. 

Pain split through your left chest as the bullet cleaved through you. 

“GAH!” you hit the ground. Adam body following shortly after a bullet hole sizzling between his eyes, his brains splattered over the wall.

“DOC!” Your vision blurred with tears as you hand was forced away from your wound. 

“Fuck,” Ghost grunted as he ripped you vest from you. With your luck the bullet had just missed the vest. Since you were still gasping for breath, you gathered it hadn't hit your lungs or vital organs, but it stung like a bitch. You were jostled up into a seated position. Where your sanity somewhat returned to you.

“Theres and exit wound,” Ghost stated. 

“FUCKING HELL!” you yelled as they started to shove gauz into the hole. 

“Gaz?” you blindly searched for him.

“Right here Doc,” he said giving your leg a squeeze. You gaze focused to see them crowded around you. Price standing guard while Soap tended to the wound and Ghost held you up. 

“That really hurts,” you chuckled a laugh before grunting again.

“You are one lucky little fucker,” Price huffed.

“Who me?” you asked.

“Can you walk?” he asked as Soap finished tying off the bandage. His eyes glanced down at the bandages that quickly became soaked in blood. He didn't like how fast it had happened.

“Walk? I fell like a running a marathon,” you joked. 

“Ghost,” he nodded to Ghost who nodded back.

“Let's move,” he said. With Ghost taking most of your weight you started making you way from the base. With a fleeting look to the dead corps, you felt your eyes close.

You had passed out somewhere between leaving the room and getting back to the transport.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

While you were unconscious Price made some bullshit excuse for Adams death. The excuse worked well. Nobody questioned anything. After all missions go south all the time.  He was simply listed as a casualty. That was all the respect he deserved.

When it was time to go home you at in the plane your shoulder in a sling. You were on strict orders not to use it for a bit. Your mind reeled with Adam dead gaze. At the moment you took aim and pulled the trigger. Did you want to kill him. Never. Would you have done it save on of your boys. Defiantly, without a moment's hesitation.

“Y/N,” you stood as you saw Jamie run towards you stopping at the plane ramp. Well waddle as best he could in his state.

“What's up kid?” you asked.

“Thankyou, for everything,” he yelled as the plane started up. He was a good kid.

You gave him one of your signature smiles. The one you always gave him before everything went to shit.

“Look after yourself alright,” you yelled.

“You have friends here Y/N. Whenever you need. We owe you that much!” he called. You nodded.

“Goodby Jamie,” you called as the ramp lifted. Silently you walked over to your seat struggling with your buckle.

“Need help?” Ghost asked. You nodded. Reaching over he quickly buckled you in pulling the strap tight.

“You know I've been wondering. Why Maddog?” Soap asked. A melancholy smile graced your lips. 

“I bit the finger off the doctor that was giving me a shot. Adam was there for it. The doc called me a mad dog. Name kinda stuck,” you shrugged.

“So you did bight his finger off?” Ghost asked.

“I did. Rember that next time you fuckers try and give e a shoot,” you said clacking your teeth together in a biting motion. 

“God help your future partner,” Soap shock his head. You all chuckle. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you were back at base you sat out on the little patio a beer in hand. You were simply thinking. about it all. You wondered if you had done something different if it would have changed everything.

Ghost silently walked out stopping by your side to offer a cigarette. You shock your head.

"He was more than a team leader to you, wasn't he?" Ghost asked.

"How did you know?" you asked.

"The look of regret you had when you saw his corps," he stated simply.

"We grew up together. Thought I was gonna marry him for a bit," you whispered.

"You did what needed to be done," was he trying to reassure you?

"Doesn't make it any less painful," you whispered.

"I faced something similar. Had to end two of my teammates. Their brains had been corrupted. They had changed," he began telling his story.

"Did you ever forgive yourself?" you asked.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly.

"Well, I have no regrets," you stated.

"Really?" he asked.

"I'll never forgive myself for killing him. But I'll never regret it," You stated standing up and finishing your drink.

"Whys that?" he asked.

"Because no one messes with my boys and gets away with it," you stated with a cheeky smile patting his should.

"Thats for trying to reassure me. Ya big softy," you smiled brightly.

"I'm not soft," he grunted.

"Yaha of course you're not," You cooed in a baby voice.

"I will end you," he threated making you laugh.

That night you and Ghost would drink till the early hours of the morning, simply talking.

"We should get to bed Ghost," you stated standing upon your wobbly legs.

"It's Simon," you head snapped around to him.

"What?" you asked.

"My name. Its Simon. You can call me that if you like. But not in front of anyone that's not the team," he said.

"Well Simon. Its officially nice to meet you. My names Y/N," you said holding you hand out for him to shake. He shook took you hand covering it completely from view.

"Big ass hand mother fucker," you grumbled drunkenly before trotting off. Simon following after you making sure you didn't run into anything.

================================================

--COD Master List Here--

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[ghostwritermia]

Jegulus x reader request?

Where the reader is also a quidditch player and basically she is in hufflepuff/ravenclaw and their team wins, but one of the boys get mad preferably regulus and reader gets upset james comforts her. Basically angst to fluff

P.s u don't have to do it, I hv been writing a poly moonwater for a week and haven't completed yet. Ik writing is hectic

Lots of Love, babe

Hi Hi! Sorry this took so long. I was in a writing slump...

Anyhoo. Here it is, I hope you enjoy!

totally didn't feed my overdramatic personality into this...

No warnings I can think of? Overthinking? Getting lost in your thoughts? Tears?

Poly!Jegulus x ravenclaw!reader

You were absolutely elated when you found out you had been assigned the captain position.

Sure, you were on a team that normally didn't win, but you were fine with that. You enjoyed the sport, the crowd, the family your team became, the community and environment.

It was the last game of the season and your team had finally won against Slytherin. Earlier in the season you had led your team to victory against Gryffindor. So, with one boyfriend left to beat, you had finally done it today, but apparently it had come with a price to pay.

As you were being crowded and tackled by your team you peeked over your best friend's shoulder, seeing Regulus storming off. And with that, your mood instantly dropped. 

You slipped an easy smile back onto your face as you hugged the rest of your team before slipping off into the changing tent and then back to your common room. 

You understand that Reg wanted to win his last game of the season, you did. But, it was your last game too, and only the second game you had been able to win that season. Shouldn't he be proud of you too?

When you finally made it back to your dorm, you quickly slipped into one of James's shirts (which were huge on you), and a pair of sleep shorts, before curling on in an armchair, pulling your knees to your chest and a blue fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

You didn't know how long you sat there. You also didn't know when James had slipped into the room, not even realizing he was there until he gently wiped tears away from under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

You startled, eyes lifting to meet his, to see sorrow swimming in his gaze. “You just gotta give him time, darling. You know how he gets about these things, he’ll come around.” James swiftly picks you up and takes your place in the armchair before resting you back into his lap.

You sighed, curling into his side, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. “I know, it’s just hard sometimes.” You sniffle into his shirt, and he tugs you tighter against him.

“He will come around darling, I promise.” He says, leaving a gentle kiss to the top of your hair.

You lose track of time as you get comfortable, cuddling into James (stealing all of his warmth), yet he doesn’t complain. You smile into his shoulder as he starts running his fingers through your hair. You playfully bite his shoulder; he tugs on a strand of your hair in reprimand.

You had started to doze off when the door creaked open and James spotted Regulus’s head peek in. He gently tapped your shoulder and when he had gotten your attention, pointed to Regulus.

Your gaze met the stormy gray of Regulus’s before you looked away, finding a loose thread of your blanket far more interesting.

“Mon Amour, I’m so so sorry.” Regulus rushes over to you, crouching down in front of you. “My mind blanked, and I didn’t think before I walked away, and I’m so sorry.” He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before running his thumb along the back of it.

You frown, your eyebrows scrunching and slide out of James’s lap and onto the floor next to Reg. “It’s okay, my love. I understand what it’s like to have loads of pressure on your shoulders, I do too. It can overwhelm you at any moment; sometimes it can even come when we don’t want it too and take control of our actions.” You say wisely. “You had a moment, it happens to the best of us. You may be a wizard, but you are still a human. Bound to make mistakes for the rest of your life,” You remind dramatically, talking with your hands. Regulus laughs, his eyes lighting up again and grabs your hands, holding them stationary.

“I’m glad that you forgive me, mon amour, but you are over dramatic.” Your boyfriend dressed in green states.

You scoff as James slides down from the chair to sit with the two of you on the floor. “I love this make-up session you two are having, but you both are full of crap.” He tugs you both into his sides, one arm wrapped around each of you.

Regulus turns his head, biting James’s hand as you dramatically raise your hand before swatting him on the back of his head.

James quickly pulls his hand away from Regulus, retracting his hold from the two of you and holds the back of his head. “Hey!” You both turn your head and blink at him feigning innocence. “This is not attack James day.” 

He smiles, teeth flashing. You dramatically cover your eyes, faking passing out; falling back from your sitting position and onto your back. “Ah, too bright. Can’t see. James you’re blinding me, can’t you see? Because I sure can’t.”

“Regulus was right. You are so over dramatic.” James rolls his eyes before leaning towards you and pulling your hands away from your eyes and pulling you into him.

“I. Am. Not.” You pout, crossing your arms and leaning out of James’s embrace.

Regulus leans towards you smiling and kisses your forehead. “Yes you are.” He whispers, tackling you to the ground, tickling your sides. “You are dramatic, and I love you for it.” You grin and Regulus gives you a skeptical glance as you turn and smile at James.

Before Reg could blink he was pinned down to the ground; roles reversed. James had his arms pinned to the ground as you straddled his hip, returning the attack of tickles that he had been serving you.

“You lose, Reggie.” You state in a sing-song voice, giggling.

[streetlightyeri]

false god ; boone

“i know heaven’s a thing, i go there when you touch me.”

[aka, boone is good at using a camera for more than just storm chasing]

w.c: 3444

warnings: 18+ MDNI. smut (oral, piv, breath play? in the lightest sense of the word, bandana used as gag).

notes: no beta, not even proofread lol i just needed to post this, i'll come back and edit at a later time. this is a piece from my wip about boone for my twisters/zach bryan song fic series (scott's is in progress as well a part two for "oklahoma smokeshow" for tyler). this was supposed to be fluff, slice of life moment, idk what happened <3 and as always, the fmc has a name but no descriptors bc i cannot personally write in 2nd person

-

She surprised him while they were on a chase. She was going to be in the state for no more than a few hours - when he headed out tomorrow she would be too. But she was able to get the information of where the crew was staying from Dani with the promise she would keep her mouth shut about it. Dani must’ve talked Tyler into letting them crash at a nicer place for the night because instead of a motel that Rowan was sure would give her hives, she pulled up to a very respectable 3 star chain hotel. She made a mental note to buy that girl whatever her heart desired.

Rowan pulled her hood closer around her neck and her hat farther down onto her head. She locked her vehicle behind her, keeping her head down as she walked to the side entrance Dani propped open for her. Once she made it in, she kicked the rock out the door jam and made her way to the elevator.

Rowan tried to calm her nerves as the elevator rose to the 4th floor. Her heartbeat picked up once the doors opened. She followed the signs to room 435. It was a corner room. Now Rowan was certain Dani had roped everyone into the plan; otherwise, a room like this would’ve been a coin toss or a game of pulling straws to see who got it. Her face burned at the thought.

But nevertheless, she knocked on the door. Boone’s voice came from the other side. “Yeah?” He was expecting someone from the team to respond, but heard nothing. He called out again. Rowan knocked in response.

She heard shuffling before the sound of the lock clicking. When the door swung open, she looked up, met with the sight of her boyfriend dressed in the same clothes he must’ve been wearing that day: jeans, a wifebeater, and a bandana tied around his neck. She could see his camo button down discarded on the end of the bed and his hat on the nightstand. A smile grew across her face as the moment started to click for him. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her into the room, double checking no one was lurking in the hallway before shutting the door. He turned the lock again and also flipped the deadbolt now that she was here.

When he turned back to her, he nearly tackled her onto the floor, throwing her hat to some corner of the room. But he managed to get his bearings before they lost their balance. His lips found hers; she could feel his smile as he kissed her. He walked them to the bed, keeping his hand behind her head to absorb the impact as her knees bent and her back hit the mattress.

He paused to pull back and look at her again, making sure she was real. “Hi, baby.”

She let out a giggle. “Hi, Boone.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, but stopped when her hand came up and pushed his shoulder back slightly. He knit his brows when she patted the bed next to herself but complied. She sat up to be eye level with him. He couldn’t believe she was here; his hands found her hips, sliding up her sweatshirt to rub circles on her soft skin. She wasn’t any better; she was trying to find her words but the way he was looking at her with his big doe eyes, like she was the best thing he’d ever seen, was making her brain short circuit. A haste kiss from him jump started her again.

“I have a . . . gift, of sorts, for you.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Is you being here not it?”

Rowan felt her cheeks heating up, her hands dropping from playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She stood up and walked to her duffle bag she discarded blindly when he tackled her. She reached in and brought out the small box she wrapped in a haste and walked back over to him, leveling him with a serious gaze. “No one can know about this. Absolutely no one.”

“What is it, baby?”

“Promise me you will never show anyone this. Ever. No matter what.”

“I promise.”

She sat back down and handed him the box. He made quick work with the paper, his jaw dropping when he saw the picture on the side of the box: a camcorder. Nothing fancy, absolutely no bells and whistles. But Boone always had a thing for cameras. He’d started messing around with them back when he was enrolled in community college, fresh out of high school, still trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do with his life. There was nothing more exciting to him than getting the perfect shot.

“You know how hesitant I’ve been about, uh,” she cleared her throat, “filming. But I thought about it. With something like this, there’s no cloud it gets uploaded to, no internet required. Nothing anyone can hack. It’s not the best quality, but it was the best I could find that I was comfortable with.”

He dropped the box on the bed next to him and grabbed her head in his hands; they were so large his fingertips met at the back. “Rowan, baby, please tell me you know I am fine with never recording us? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I let go of that fantasy a while ago. If you’re not comfortable with it, then it isn’t hot anymore.”

She nodded through his grip. “I know.”

He kissed her again, letting go of her with a whoop of excitement before he opened the tape on the box with his pocket knife. He pulled out the recorder and inserted the SD card, flipping open the screen, taking a sweep of the room. He played around with the settings, adjusting it for the room’s lighting. He was so confident in his knowledge of the camera. In seconds he got it looking more like 720p instead of the 480p she saw when using it in the store.

He flipped the screen so he could see himself as he recorded. He introduced himself to his imaginary audience while Rowan rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his torso. He used his free hand to run a hand down her hair. He lowered the camera to capture her face for a second. “And this is my beautiful girlfriend.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “She is the reason I have this camera. I think she’s embarrassed, but don’t worry, I’ll get her used to showing her face.”

She pulled back and hit his shoulder with a laugh while he winked at the camera. He flipped the screen and turned to film her, catching the perfect angle where the setting sun cut through the curtains to leave a beam running across her face. “She loves me so much she surprised me. Can’t believe she kept this a secret.”

“I was so close to spilling! You kept texting me about how much you missed me! And I had to lie that I wasn’t in Oklahoma. I even had Dani working with me to cover it up. I would send photos from the view outside my apartment that I’d been saving up for her to show you. I was scared you’d get suspicious when I kept refusing to FaceTime.”

He laughed from behind the camera. “You are a terrible liar.”

She faked a gasp, “Take that back!”

He smirked, “I think I can think of a way to make it up to you.”

She pulled her legs to her chest and looked straight at the lens of the camera, “Well then, why don’t you show me?”

He deposited the camera on the nightstand, throwing his hat elsewhere to make sure he had enough space to get the entire bed in the frame. One he was certain they’d be visible, he tore his shirt off and made quick work of hers. He lifted her bridal style to put her correctly on the bed. He untied his bandana and tied it around her neck; he liked seeing her wear it. He hovered over her on his arms, his hair and gold chain dangling into her face. She felt her face and chest flush. No matter how many times they found themselves like this, Rowan always felt like Boone was admiring her like a precious stone.

He shifted his weight and used his right hand to run his thumb over her red cheek. “God you’re so beautiful, baby.”

He undid her bra and he moved to sit on his haunches, admiring her from above. Her chest rose and fell as his brown eyes raked over her entire frame, leaving her skin burning in their wake. His calloused hands ghosted over her waist so lightly, her body jerked from the tickling sensation. His two index fingers ran under the waistband of her jean shorts; his eyes flickered up to her for permission. She kept her eyes stilled on him as she nodded. His eyes flickered over to the camera; he could see her side angle perfectly, surrounded by plush sheets while he hung over her.

“Is the camera okay?”

She nodded again, not looking at it.

“Need words, baby.”

She opened her mouth but hesitated. In seconds, he had the camera in his hand, about to snap the screen shut and stop the recording. Her hand reached up and wrapped around his wrist. “It’s okay, Boone.”

He shook his head. “No. You’re tense. We’re not doing it if you’re not 100% with it.”

She tightened her grip on his wrist when he tried to turn it off again. “I am. I promise. If you’re okay, I am. I’ll get used to it.”

He hesitated. He didn’t want her doing this for him.

“If I wasn’t comfortable with it, I wouldn’t have bought the camera.”

“You’re allowed to change your mind, no matter who bought the camera.”

She moved to intertwine her fingers with his, bringing his knuckles down to kiss them. “I’ll tell you if I change my mind.”

He pursed his lips, “Promise?”

She smiled up at him, “Promise.”

She helped him set up his perfect angle again before he rided her of her shorts and underwear. His hands ran up and down her side, taking count of every inch of skin. He rememorized every mole and freckle. His lips found hers again, making his way slowly down her neck, shoulder, the valley of her breasts while his finger twisted at her nipples. She felt him smirk against her skin when she gasped, hands reaching out to grip the sheets. He left bites on the smooth skin of her stomach, a place he was often drawn to. A place he could mark that no one would know.

When he made it between her thighs, he groaned. “There’s my girl.”

Rowan bit her bottom lip to stifle the sound that brought out of her.

Boone’s hands tightened on her hips; she could feel each finger digging into her skin. He pressed sloppy, wet kisses to the inside of her thighs. Her toes curled in anticipation, legs locking to try and prevent them from tightening around his head. Not that he would’ve cared. He had spent weeks warming her up to the idea of sitting on his face so he could finally feast like he wanted. She would never forget the way he locked his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her core connected with his mouth while he ate her out like his life depended on it, like he wasn’t destroying her for any other man ever. 

When he finally connected his mouth to her cunt, he moaned into her, making a shiver run up her entire body as her hands moved to grip his hair. Her fingers twisted in his locks, making him let out another satisfied noise. His tongue reached out to lap at her core, taking in the sweet release and relishing in the taste. One hand moved to splay across her stomach, lightly opening and closing to keep her down and to scratch at her skin comfortingly; the other moved to leave bruises of his finger prints on her thighs before one finger, then two, then three pushed themselves into her. Her rapid breaths and whines filled the room as her hips jerked from the way he ate. While his fingers curled into the spot he knew made her see stars, his tongue circled her clit with unrelenting determination.

He glanced up at her, seeing her head thrown back with eyes screwed closed as he increased his pace. He knew he was doing good when he felt her body tensing up below him, her legs beginning to shake. She gave a hard tug on his hair when he pulled away and let out a stream of cold breath onto her clit before attaching his hot mouth back to it. She came with a cry of his name, tensing around him as her blood seemed to run through white hot fire. Her thighs clamped around his head, spurring him on to continue his feast as he rode her through her high. He managed to get his right hand free and bring it up to her mouth, tapping her lips which she opened without question. He shoved them in, so long he almost triggered her gag reflex. She instantly closed around them, sucking herself off of him while effectively silencing her from their neighbor’s ears. He used his thumb and pinky to grip her chin and turn her face to the camera. She whimpered when she saw how much of a mess she was, how much of a submissive puddle he turned her into without trying. The visual spurred her into another orgasm. When she finally came back to Earth, she let her legs go limp and released her boyfriend, much to his dismay.

He traced his lips back up to hers, pushing into her mouth. When he released their kiss, he left small pecks on her jaw, coming to her ear, “My favorite meal. Now my favorite show.”

She grabbed his jaw and brought him back to her lips where he lost himself for an unknown amount of time. He was achingly hard. Rowan ran her hand down his shoulders, past the scar on his ribs from when he got hit by a tree branch in the field, down his abs that he gained from always running from tornadoes, to run her hand over his length. She would never get used to it; he was the biggest she’d ever had, and he knew how to use it. He could bring her to tears without being fully seated in her. He had to coach her into taking deep breaths the first time they’d done it because she was so tense he couldn’t push in. Now, they knew the drill.

She pulled his belt off with one hand and discarded it somewhere in the room before popping his button. He discarded his pants and underwear off the bed, once again on his haunches, pumping himself in his right hand. Her hair was a messy halo around her, her skin shiny with sweat.

He lifted her legs to hang over his thighs, leaving her wide open for him to push into her without pain. His eyes flickered to the camera before coming back to hers; she nodded. He picked the camera up, and fixed the angle to where it was a clear shot of him entering her. With every inch he gave, her whimpers grew louder. “Bite down on the bandana for me sweetheart.”

She nodded blindly, biting down on the cloth that smelled exactly like him, like the cologne he wore that made her nearly stumble when she first met him. Her senses were clouded from anything else in the world. All that existed was him. The camera was an extension of him, like it always was.

When he was fully seated in, he gave a few long in and out thrusts, letting her adjust to his size before putting the recorder in its spot. When she gave him the nod that he was okay to move, he lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to her ankle where she had a tattoo of a tornado, courtesy of Lilly and an empty bottle of Jack.

He gripped her hip with his free hand before he began to hammer into her. The sound of skin slapping filled the room. Her noises were one of his favorite things about sex with her, but he really did not need the neighbors knowing that he hadn’t even given her 30 minutes before they went at it; the bandana was not cutting it. He gathered up the material that was still hanging out her mouth and shoved it in. He gave a short “sorry” when he heard her gag but he wasn’t sure she heard it because he gave a very hard thrust at the same time that caused her eyes to roll backwards. He placed his hand over her mouth as well to keep her silent, her leg pressed against her chest.

Her hands dug crescents into his biceps and left long marks down his back. He had absolutely no complaints. If he could find a way to make the feel of him buried in her cunt permanent, he would. Boone grunted in her ear when she squeezed around him, “Be good, honey.” He felt her moan vibrate through his hand. 

She was getting close, he could feel it. She kept lifting her hips in a way to both escape the pleasure but also find new angles for him to hit in hopes it would be what set her off. He snaked his hand off her hip and used his rough thumb to circle her clit. In seconds, he sent her over the edge. She tensed so hard around him he couldn’t thrust her through it. Her tightness sent him over the edge, his face buried in her hair while he was groaning her name paired with a whimper of overstimulation. When he finally pulled out, he got the camera again to film the dripping of his spend out her cunt. He reached a hand out and smeared his cum across her cunt. She jerked and whimpered, the feeling too much so soon after he finished her again. 

He turned the camera to her face as he gave her his cum covered fingers to suck on. She had a sleepy, not-fully-on-Earth smile plastered on her face. She stared at the lens, at the extension of Boone, “Hi, baby.”

He held the camera out with one arm while he moved to connect their lips again.

The camera ran out of battery just as Boone was setting it up to look into the shower, right after he got a shot of Rowan on her knees with her tongue out, covered in his release, before she swallowed and showed her empty tongue to the camera.

He cursed when the screen turned black, an alert to change SD cards coming up. Rowan laughed and closed it after turning it off, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the shower. “You’ll just have to remember this round.”

-

Her hair left a damp spot on the pillow beneath him, but he didn’t mind. She was half asleep in the nook he made for her between his shoulder and arm, her eyes closed as she inhaled the scent of his soap and shampoo. If his arm was asleep under her, he said nothing. He had changed the sheets with the ones from the closet while she searched through his bag and her own to find something to wear. She ultimately decided on a pair of sleep shorts she brought and one of his plain t-shirts that hung oversized on her. She had a fist resting on his chest and had her leg across his waist; he lightly scratched at it, a comforting motion to help lure her to sleep.

He adjusted his head to leave a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you, Rowan.”

She was too tired to make any words, so she gave him a hum that both acknowledged his words and returned the sentiment. She kissed the nearest part of him she could before settling back into her cocoon. He pulled the blankets up closer to her chin.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 62

part 1 | part 61 | ao3

cw: violence, off-hand mentions of drug use

Light bleeds through the cracks in the boathouse walls. Max is the one who found it, spotted the glowing bulb over the door and called them down the slope behind the house to check it out, and now Steve leads the group inside and clings to his nail bat in a way he hopes is reassuring but is probably just putting everyone else on edge. 

Can’t really be helped, though. 

Place gives him the creeps. 

It's dark and dank, overwhelmingly humid, with a smell like mildew and old food over a layer of fear sweat, and the wood groans beneath their feet while the walls sway with the breeze. Makes it feel like the room is breathing, like they're standing inside of a haunted lung. 

Steve braces himself in the middle of the room, head on a swivel while the group fans out around the edges, dipping in and out of shadow. Dustin calls for Eddie. Max checks the latch on a window. Robin points her flashlight at a pile of food wrappers and says, "This looks new." 

Steve flexes his fingers on the bat; picks up an oar, too, just to be safe.

"What?" Dustin snorts. "You gonna dual-wield against your boyfriend?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "He's not my—"

"—Ex-boyfriend, then, whatever. Still can't believe you never told me about that." 

“Okay,” Steve huffs. Dustin’s grumpy muttering sounds more hurt than he’s letting on, but he’s letting on plenty, and Steve’s too keyed up to do this right now. “Can we just—” He gestures around the room with the oar to illustrate how completely not the time for this it is. “Can we not?" 

"No,” Dustin protests, voice rising, “no, we can't not, Steve, because you—" He steps into Steve’s space, jabbing a finger against his sternum and backing him up to the edge of a tarp-covered boat. "—are a liar. You have been lying to me for months! And now it looks like you're gearing up to try and bludgeon my good friend with two blunt objects!" 

"Shut up!” Steve snaps. He takes a deep breath; lifts the blunt objects in question, giving them a little shake. “First of all, it's not the boyfriend I'm worried about using these on, and secondly—"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence. 

He doesn’t get to plant his feet.

With a noise like a war cry, something blue blurs at the edge of Steve’s periphery and launches him across the room, shoving him backward over tarps and tackle boxes until his back slams against the wall and knocks the wind out of him, and his skull smacks the wood and sets off a snow storm in his vision — muffled ringing in his ears, tornado warning wailing through a thick layer of cotton. Steve’s friends are all shouting, and there’s something sharp against his throat, and someone is barking questions at him; hot, stale breath over his chin; a fist balled up in the front of his shirt. 

“Are you real?” the voice demands, hand twisting in Steve’s collar and tugging him against the sharp thing. “ARE YOU REAL?”

Steve blinks. Blinks and sways into the sharp sting beneath his jaw until the dizzy spell ends.

The scene before him comes into focus slowly.

Steve thinks, for the millionth time that day, that he must be losing his mind. That he must have lost it already.

The blurry, shouting thing is Eddie. Eddie, who is glassy-eyed and drooling like a wild animal, who is pinning Steve to a splintered wall with a shattered bottle to his throat; whose face floods Steve with such intensely euphoric relief that he thinks he finally gets why people do hard drugs.

Even now, even like this, the only thought in Steve’s head is how lovely Eddie's face is.

How grateful he is to see it again, even if it might be the last thing he ever sees.

Beside them, Dustin speaks in low, placating tones, holding out his hands and encouraging Eddie to back off. Promising that Steve’s not gonna hurt him, that they’re all just here to help as Eddie’s eyes slip over and past Steve and his body tenses for the kill.

“Not real, not real, not real,” Eddie mumbles, spit shining on his shaking lip.

The bottle knicks Steve’s skin. 

“Eddie!” Dustin begs. Max and Robin's eyes are huge. And Steve—

Steve laughs. A soft, hysterical thing, barely voiced, because of course Eddie’s going to kill him. Of course he is.

He’s already been doing it for weeks. 

"What happened to your knife?" he jokes wetly, tipping his head back to bare his throat.

The question snaps Eddie back to himself. Steve watches from under his damp lashes as Eddie's eyes sharpen on him, darting all over his face with sudden, painful awareness, with something dangerously close to hope.

The hand holding the bottle trembles. "...Baby?" Eddie whispers, wet eyes searching still.

Steve holds his gaze. Nods against the jagged edge.

Glass shatters on the floor as Eddie collapses into him.

—

part 63

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[faefictions]

Go to Bed Angry

Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Request: Eddie teasing and flustering his girl best friend who has a not so hidden crush on him and he has a not so hidden crush on her but they're both blind to it With a happy fluffy ending please 🥺

(Gif by @thorinsbeard​)

It had been a Tuesday afternoon. You only remember that detail because any other day of the week, Eddie wouldn’t have been free to give you a ride home after school. It wasn’t anything new, you were in the passenger seat of his van, the music blasting through the speakers at a deafening volume. He had just made a joke that to this day you can’t remember, but that wasn’t what did it. You turned to the window, rolling your eyes in annoyance at his teasing, everything was business as usual. That was until you glanced at his reflection, staring at the back of your head. It was a simple, innocent look, but something about it lit a fire in you that you couldn’t stamp out. 

That was the moment you realized you were in love with your best friend. 

You spent every day after that either in active denial, or trying your best to suppress the emotions you knew were brewing. It shouldn’t have been that hard. Eddie was just as much of a little shit as ever. His constant comments about how bad your breath smelled, or how terrible your music taste was, or slight digs at your personality in general should have been enough to completely kill the crush that you had. But the small moments where he would check to make sure you were ok in stressful situations, or when he would insist on buying you flowers when he knew you were having a particularly bad day. This moments would bring you right back to that day in his van, and the butterflies would come creeping back up on you. 

It only got worse after graduation. On graduation day, Eddie had picked you up and spun you around out of excitement. Neither of you had really thought that he would be graduating with you that year, but after all the late nights you forced him to study, he had finally crawled his way past the finish line. For a second, after he had set you down, you thought that he was going to lean in and kiss you. He just stood there for a moment, staring into your eyes without saying a word, but the Hellfire boys ruined the moment when they practically tackled him from behind. You avoided him for the rest of the night after that. 

Once you both got full time jobs, it got harder to spend time with each other. You began to worry that the two of you would drift apart, but Eddie would have never left that happen. The second he realized that you were worried about it, he chose to come over to your trailer every day after work. 

It didn’t matter if he worked a 10 hour shift, or if he got off a 3 am, you could always expect him to let himself in and plop himself down on your couch with a loud sigh. It became a new normal to wait for Eddie to “come home”, but you hated that you thought of it that way. It was staring to feel a little too domestic. But that didn’t stop you from making him something to eat after every shift, or listening to his incredibly boring work stories for hours, or walking him 100 feet back to his trailer so he could get some much needed sleep.

On one night in September, you came home from your shift at 4 pm, as always. Your hair was slipping out of it’s pony tail, and your makeup was smudged. It had been a particularly long day. The amount of customers who had left with nothing but complaints had been higher than normal, and it had worn you out by lunch. You counted down every minute of the tail end of your shift, but not even clocking out was enough to get rid of the storm cloud over your head. 

You had no idea how long you had until Eddie would inevitably let himself into your trailer, but you figured you had at least a few hours to shower and get yourself in a better mood before you had to socialize again. However, you were proven wrong when you opened your trailer door and found Eddie’s work boots kicked off to the side, and heard him rustling around in the kitchen. 

“Is it too early for dinner? I mean, you always make it when I get off, but that can be like six o clock or midnight so I don’t really know what a normal dinner time is to you.”

“What are you doing here?”

He turned around to face you, now standing behind him in the small kitchen area, his shirt covered in a mysterious food stain that you couldn’t find the origin of since it appeared he was only making macaroni. 

“You feeling ok?” he asked as he feigned concern and placed his wrist on your forehead to feel for an imaginary temperature. “How could you forget about your favorite person in the whole world? I’m Eddie, remember? I practically live here,” He giggled to himself before you slapped his hand away from your head. 

“You’ve just never gotten off this early. I figured I had time to at least take a shower before you got here,”

“Bad day?”

You sighed and turned to finally take your jacket and shoes off. Your sigh was answer enough for him. 

“You can still go take a shower. It’s not like I don’t know my way around.”

“It’s fine, you made food, let’s just eat.”

“No,” he chided as he blocked your access to the cupboard you were reaching for, “Go get out of your work clothes and get in the shower, before I help you out of them.”

“Eddie!” you yelped and slapped him on the arm, praying that the blush you felt on your cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt. 

“I’m serious. Shower. Now,” he laughed and began to shoo and chase you down the hall into the bathroom. 

“I don’t have any clothes to change into,” you pouted before he could close the bathroom door in your face. 

“Get the water warm, I’ll go get your pajamas.”

You said a quick thank you as he disappeared, and you did just as he said. You turned the water up as hot as it would go, knowing that you needed to melt the day away. Eddie quickly returned with a change of clothes before running back to the kitchen in hopes that he hadn’t found a way to somehow burn a box of Kraft. 

After your shower, you emerged from the bathroom fully clothed, but hair still dripping wet. You hadn’t had the energy to dry it, and the grumbling coming from your stomach was getting to be too much. Luckily, by the time you made it to the living room, Eddie was waiting on the couch with a still warm bowl of macaroni waiting for you. 

“There she is,” Eddie smiled, mouth half full of noodles. He pushed the blanket that had been resting next to him onto the ground and patted the cushion excitedly. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you sighed and bent over to pick the blanket back up. You could feel Eddies eyes focusing on you as you folded it and rested it over the back of the couch. 

“What’s with you today, sweetheart? Something happen at work?,” he asked, much more gentle now, as he handed you your dinner. 

“Just a long day Eds,” you fought off another sigh. 

“Seriously,” he stopped you from taking your first bite, “Is there someone I need to beat the shit out of? You know I’d do that for you, right?” 

“Can I just eat this lovely meal you’ve prepared for the two of us?” You faked a smile and hoped your blush wasn’t too dark. 

Lately, anything Eddie said made you feel a certain way. It was like he was going out of his way to get a reaction out of you, almost like he was doing it on purpose. 

“Fine,” he smirked, “I’ll get my answers out of you later, Doll.”

You tried not to choke in response to that name. That was a new one, and your brain reacted a little too fondly to it. You quickly reached for the remote and turned to the first station that seemed entertaining enough to shut Eddie up. 

You reveled in the silence for the short while it lasted. You loved spending time with Eddie, always had, but it had grown harder to be around him with him acting like this. The last thing you wanted was for him to figure out how you felt about him and ruin the friendship. As time went on, it was growing harder and harder to control your own reactions to him though. 

Just as your heart finally began to beat normally again, right after you had finished your dinner and set the bowl on the coffee table in front of you, you hit your limit. Eddie reached out and guided your chin towards him. He made eye contact for a moment, with an expression that felt too serious for the situation, and for a second you thought he might kiss you. Instead, he brought his thumb to the corner of your mouth and swiped away what you could only assume was a glob of artificial cheese. 

“Got it,” he smiled. 

“I’m feeling pretty tired, I think maybe you should head home,” you nearly snapped at him. It came out more polite than you expected, but much less than you meant for it to sound. 

“But it’s only like 5:30,” he pouted. It was obvious that something was off. He usually wouldn’t get off work until much later than this, and would still end up staying longer than he had today. 

“Like I said, long day. You should get going.” 

“Come on, y/n, did I do something?” he tried to reason with you as you began to usher him off of the couch and towards the exit. 

“Eddie, I just wanna be alone right now, ok? Don’t make a big deal out of it.” 

“No,” he dug his heels in just as you had nearly gotten him to the door, and turned to face you, “Something’s up and I’m not leaving until we resolve it. You know what they say, never go to bed angry.” 

“Eddie, that’s for married couples.”

“And we’re practically that.”

“Excuse me? No, Eddie, we aren’t practically anything!”

“Woah, ok, I was just joking around sweetheart.”

Had you been thinking straight, you would have noticed that Eddie almost seemed offended at your reaction to his joke. But you were far from level headed, and all you knew was that he had no right to tease you like that if he didn’t mean a word of it. 

You groaned and rushed around him, opening the door to make the invitation to leave feel more like a demand. But if there was one thing you knew about Eddie Munson, it was that he was the most stubborn piece of shit, beating out even you. 

“You know for a fact that I’m going nowhere until you tell me what I did. I know this isn’t just a shitty day. It may have started out that way, but you’d never kick me out over just that.” 

“Well maybe today was just extra shitty, Eddie. And maybe the cure to a shitty day is to not have you around to make me even more miserable.”

You hadn’t meant it, it had just slipped out, and the second you saw Eddie’s face drop, you had regretted it. But it was too late to take it back, and you still desperately wanted him out, so you just stood in silence, trying not to let any hot tears free from your eyes. You cursed yourself for your tendency to cry at any situation that made you raise your voice. 

“Y/n, seriously, what did I do?” he asked, voice laced with deep concern, and took a nervous step towards you. 

“Nothing, I just want you to leave, please.”

Your tears had begun to fall, and Eddie would have been able to sense your overwhelm from a mile away. He was unsure what to do though, since in any other situation, he would offer his presence to console you. He tried to comb through the night in his brain, trying to pick out anything he had done to upset you. Once he remembered the last thing he had done before you asked him to leave, he had an inkling of what may be happening. 

He gently reached out and grabbed your hand to pull you even closer to him, and he proved himself correct when he saw the way you nearly winced at his touch. He knew you well, he had once declared himself an expert on everything y/n. But, he had missed the most important thing there was to know about you. 

You loved him in the exact same way he had loved you from the start.  

“Can I kiss you?” he blurted, but his voice was barely above a whisper. 

“What?” you exclaimed, the surprise putting a pause to your tears. 

“That’s what you wanted, right?” 

“Eddie,” you warned, and pulled away from him, gently this time. There was no more malice towards him, just defeat. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you wouldn’t want,” you finished as you turned to walk back to the couch. Before you could get far, he grabbed your arm once again and spun you around to look at him. 

“Then let me kiss you because I want to,” as he spoke, his demeanor changed from confidence to match your insecurity, “Please.” 

You both stood, staring at each other as you tried to take in what he had said. The butterflies in your stomach were trying to convince you that he meant it, that he really had wanted to kiss you, but your brain was trying to let you down gently. He had had a million chances to kiss you, to make a move, to do anything. But he had always chosen to tease, to make you think that what had blossomed between you was nothing but one sided. You were ready to turn him down, to try to preserve your friendship and your heart, until his hand reached out and cupped your cheek. 

He slowly took a step towards you, never breaking his line of sight on your eyes. He moved as if you would turn and run at any sudden movement, and his heavy breathing gave his nerves even more away. 

He wouldn’t be nervous if he were lying. That was the final thought you had before you launched yourself into his lips. There was no way he was going to get the glory of kissing you first. Not after all the teasing he had put you through. 

Tags: 

@eddielives1986​ @eddieswifu​ @chickpeadumpsterfire​ @fluffybunnyu​ @embrace-themagic​ @fanficparker​  @heartbeats-wildly​ @saturn-aka-six​ @calum-hoodwinked-me​ @peterplanet​ @mischiefmanaged49​ @nicotine-sunshine820​ @itsjusttor​ @emistrash​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​ @sovereignparker​ @raajali3​

[ebodebo]

I need Alex coming home to you after being MIA for months and finding you coping not knowing where he was and assuming he was dead by buying a bunch of dogs. Your favorite dog Ali (your nickname for Alex) tackling him when he comes in the door fr. Angsty fluff ykwim? 🙂‍↕️🤝

A Pleaser

NSFW CONTENT

—alex keller x f!reader

—2.2k+

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Glancing from your kitchen to the bay window in your living room, you see the first flakes of snow begin to fall, each unique and delicate. However, you can't get yourself to care about the serenity of the first snowfall of the season and the holidays coming right around the corner.

Your boyfriend, Alex, had left for a mission in June. You had no idea where he was going or why; the details he spared were extremely vague. The only detail he spared was that it would likely only last two or three months at most. However, it was now December, six months from when he left. 

Three months ago, Captain Price called to say the team had returned. You were ecstatic; Alex was coming home, and the timing he had said was on the dot. 

"But,"

One singular word. One single word had single-handley splintered your heart, breaking it into two. He explained how Alex had gotten separated and was now considered MIA. You didn't care to hear anymore, so you hung up. You figured if-when-they found him, they would call, but three more months later, your phone was dry. With no indication of his whereabouts. And no indication of if he was dead or alive. 

The last couple of months have felt like hell personified. It felt as though an unpredicted storm had torn through your life, leaving a grave deal of devastation in its wake. Every day, you wake to feel the emptiness of the bed beside you, a constant reminder of the void in your heart. 

The silence in the house was deafening; even with three new dogs, the creak and groans of the wood could never replace the laughter you both shared. Grief wrapped its cold fingers around your heart and squeezed tighter every single day.

Not to mention, every corner of the house now felt haunted. Memories shared, kisses given, laughter spilled. You couldn't walk anywhere in the house without hearing, feeling, or seeing him. Everywhere was him. He was everywhere. Something you were both equally grateful for and spiteful of.

Grateful for all reminders of him because you would never forget him. 

Spiteful because it was just a constant reminder he wasn't there with you. 

Your thoughts were seized, and tears threatened to spill down your plump cheeks as you felt your dog, Ali, rub her head against your hip.

"So needy," you laugh out, wiping your tears with your hand. Using your opposite hand, you reach out to scratch her head. Your other dogs, Junie and Riley, were quick to run over to you and Ali.

"Jealous girls," you smile, sitting on the floor as they all engulf you, licking your neck and laying on you. You let out a laugh as Ali lays directly on your diaphragm on her stomach, back legs sticking straight out. Riley lay on your legs, and Junie lay behind your head. You pick your head up and scoot back to lay on her stomach.

"My good girls," you contently sigh as you scratch Ali's head and slowly drift off to sleep with the sound of your dog's light snoring and the clicks of the heater kicking on.

You sprung awake to the sound of the front door handle moving back and forth, while your dogs growled. You quickly stood up, glancing outside to see the darkness of the night staring right back at you. 

"Shit," you curse, roaming through the kitchen drawers to find a knife you could use to attack the intruder. Once you find one, you hear a soft curse and the soft drop of keys outside the door. Your eyes widen at the familiarity of the voice. No. It can't be.

You stepped closer to the door, but it flung open before you could open it, making you jump back and drop your weapon to your side. Your dogs were quick to jump on the man, making him fall to the ground and drop his duffle bag.

"Thought you didn't like dogs?" Alex roughly asked, a smile playing on his lips as he gently scratched Ali's head.

"Alex?" You questioned, slowly approaching him, unsure if you were still dreaming.

"It's me, baby." You hesitated only for a moment before tackling him on the ground where he lay. He winces at the interaction.

"Shit... sorry. Did I hurt you?" You pull back, tears fully streaming down your cheeks, dripping onto your shirt.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. You didn't know." He brought his hand up to cupped your face, feeling the wetness from your tears.

"Hate to ask, but could you... can you-" He asked, gesturing to himself. You move to kneel to his side as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, placing only a bit of his body weight onto you.

"You can put more weight on me. I can handle it." You assure, as you help him regain balance as he stands.

"I know you can." He smirked as you playfully rolled your eyes at his comment.

As he's leaned up against you, with his arm around your upper half, you feel something wet connect with your skin through your shirt.

"Why are you wet?" You gently carry him as you make your way through the front door.

"Just a little blood." He casually said. 

"Bl... blood?" You question, stepping to the side a bit to get a better look. A little blood is an understatement. It was thoroughly drenching the bottom side of his white shirt.

"Oh my God... that's a lot of blood!" You exclaim, again placing your arm around his shoulder to lead him to the bathroom.

"Nah. It's not that much." You carefully guided him to sit on the seat of the toilet. You frantically grabbed an emergency kit from under the sink and started pulling out some antiseptics, gauze, and bandages.

You turn to be met with his face. It was your first time seeing his face in such clear light in six months. It felt so bittersweet. You knew how Alex was before he left, but you didn't know how much of him would still be the same. What if it changed him? What if the real him was gone?

You kneeled in front of him and delicately pulled his shirt up off his head. The sight made you tear up once again. Cuts, some already bandaged and some minor. Yellow, blue, and purple bruises covered his entire body. Then, a gash on his side, the one currently oozing out blood. It all made you feel sick. 

"Hey, hey. I'm okay. I promise. Just got a little roughed up, that's all." He assured you, reaching out to grab your hand. You squeezed his hand tighter before you spoke.

"I know. I just... I hate seeing you like this." You breathed out. "It kills me seeing you in pain." You confess, grabbing a wet cloth and lightly cleaning the blood around his wound before using some antiseptic to wipe across it.

"I know. I shouldn't have come like this. I just... I needed to see you." He winces at the stinging sensation, gripping your hand harder. 

"I'll take care of you." You lightly smiled as you placed a large gauze bandage on top of the cut, lightly pressing the sides of it to secure it to the skin. 

"Already feel better." He smiles, gently pulling you down so he can press a deep kiss to your lips. "God, I missed you," he gruffly says as he leans his forehead onto yours.

"I missed you too." You pull back a moment before he pulls you back to his lips. It was sensual. Maybe even a little rough. But, his lips felt the same as those you'd kissed many times before.

His hands moved up and down your hips, occasionally sliding to grip the fat of your thighs before moving to grip your ass, making you throw your head back at the contact and eliciting a moan from you. Alex's eyes light up at your whiny noise, and your mouth slightly open. He let go of you and smoothly stood to grip your shoulders, making you sit on the toilet while he gently sunk to his knees.

“Alex… your bandages.” You protested as you attempted to stand up.

"You took care of me; let me take care of you," he said as he sat you back down on the seat.

"But…" You started before he interrupted.

"Are you arguing with me?" He tilted his head, eyes full of desire.

"No-I." You started before chewing on your bottom lip, looking down at him with glossy eyes full of hunger. God, he could just eat you alive.

"I guess I am."

"Let's deal with that attitude." He's quick to pull down your pajama shorts, paying no mind to the painful ache he feels on his side. He has another ache he needs to tend to. 

"You're gonna hurt yourself… again." You caution as he peels down your underwear, eager to feel you around his fingers.

"Please. I'm tough. I think I can handle this." He leans in between your legs and presses deep, hot kisses along your lower thigh, moving higher and higher.

The feeling of his overgrown facial hair tickling your upper thigh, slightly grazing your cunt, made your head spin, even making you whimper at the loss of contact when he pulled his head back.

"You miss me?" He grunted, moving back between your legs to plant more deep kisses on your thigh, gripping your calf with his hand. Your throat had betrayed you. Becoming too dry to form any words, just letting out a pathetic whimper.

Usually, he would make you answer his questions to piss you off, to edge you, but he could feel your neediness, and he so craved a taste of you after so much time apart. 

He pulls his head back and supplements his mouth on your thighs, for his fingers in your needy cunt, crazing your sensitive clit. Immediately feeling your tightness and arousal pooling on his fingers, almost dripping onto the bathroom floor.

"Oh-fuck-I can tell." You throw your head back at the sudden contact, moaning, as you feel his fingers glide in and out of you with ease.

"You're so tight." He grits as he feels you tighten around his finger.

"And wet." He pulls his finger out, making your eyes stare into his.

"Why'd you stop?" You question, your tone carrying more desperation than you intended.

"Wanna add another." He muttered, looking at you as he sunk two fingers into you before gently massaging your labia, softly teasing.

"I don't need foreplay, Alex. I need you to make me come." You hiss as you feel him touch your clit again.

"So demanding." He gruffs as he moves his finger to stimulate your clit, making your eyes roll. You harshly gripped his bicep as his fingers moved faster in you.

"What did you do when I was gone? Huh? You touch yourself?" He groaned out, watching your mouth open wide as you released another loud moan.

"I did." You manage to say, voice shakey and husky.

"Did it feel good?" he says breathily as you look back down at him, then drift to his fingers, connecting you two.

"Not this good." You affirm, gripping his arm tighter as you feel your stomach tighten.

He speeds up his movements. "Did you think about me?"

"I always think about you." You breathy respond as you throw your head back once again, trying to suppress the pleasure coursing through you.

"Fuck-I thought about you too. I thought about doin' this to you every single night." He grips your chin with his other hand, bringing it down so he can examine it.

"Seein' you bite that lip." He brings his thumb up to wipe it across your lip, now covered in a light layer of blood from digging your teeth too far into your flesh.

"Hearin' your breathy noises." You let out a shaky breath.

"Feelin' you tighten around my fingers-just like that." You gripped his arm as you felt your body intensely pulsate, your cunt tightly gripping his fingers as he continued rubbing your clit.

"Oh-fuck-just like that." He groaned as the ecstasy fully spread through you, touching every part of your body, clenching harder onto him. A rainbow of color strikes your eyelids. A foam of music coaxes you through your ears. 

Once you thoroughly rode out your orgasm, you slumped against Alex's shoulder, unable to sit up on your own. 

"That... was-" You trail off, sitting up a little to look at him.

"Best orgasm you ever had?" He fills in, gently slipping your underwear back onto you.

"One of the best." You press a kiss to his lips as he cocks a brow.

"Remember the bar?" You plant your hands on his shoulders, gently tugging on your bottom with your teeth.

"Ah-how could I forget?" A smile takes over his face as he presses another kiss to your swollen lips.

You can't remember how long you and Alex sat there. Your ass hurt from sitting on the hard porcelain for so long, and you imagined Alex's side was hurting from kneeling for so long, but you knew he could give less of a shit about himself. All he cared about was you. Protecting and caring for you were his only objectives in life.

Oh, and pleasing you. The man aims to please, and pleasing he does.

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[resident-idiot-simp]

(elaboration on this post)

When the late Logan was spotted again in the wild the mansion devolved into chaos. No one knew what to think until out of everyone Colossus had answers. He said this was a different Logan from a different universe and he was here now because (out of everyone it could have been) Deadpool brought him.

Deadpool, an insane merc who took damn near any job he could and enjoyed it. Why Colossus thought he was a friend or even somewhat worthy of being an X-Man was beyond them. 

They didn't pay much attention knowing Logan would find his way home like he always did. He really was like a stray cat. He comes back for food and shelter and to help when they really need it. It's nice even if they wished he'd stay longer.

The thing is he didn't come back to them, and no one knew what to do. Sightings kept happening and Logan was always with Deadpool, and no one knew what to think about it. Then THEN Colossus came back one day with a young lady who looked so much like Logan it hurt. She introduced herself as Laura Howlett and chaos reigned once again. 

She was so much like Logan, it hurt the same mannerisms, behavior, tendencies and lurking in the same places Logan once did. The first time they saw the claws, Jean almost cried.

Laura could be found with Yukio and Ellie the most and eventually Rogue once she got up the courage to talk to her. Laura didn't seem to like the other X-Men, and no one could figure out why. Rogue too had started distancing herself and it just made everything worse. 

Rogue started referring to herself as Laura's sister and the first time Storm heard it she had to leave. Scott asked her about Logan, and she had been dismissive just saying he was fine with Wade. 

Wade or Deadpool (why is it always Deadpool why did he have to be in the middle of all of this) the same Wade she talked about with a smile on her face and a laugh on her tongue. Wade who she told stories about and who she so obviously cared deeply about. Wade who she slipped up and called Pop once.

Scott wanted to be mad but couldn't bring himself to be. 

It all came to a head when shit went sideways, and they needed major backup. Laura had pulled out a phone and started speaking quickly. Not long later and out of seemingly nowhere Logan and Deadpool appeared with a few people in tow. Seeing Logan again in person even across a battlefield felt like a punch to the gut. 

Logan had made himself known with a roar as he tackled the creature that was about to strike Laura. Deadpool was right behind him covering his back. They proceeded to fight in such unison it was mesmerizing to watch. They anticipated each other perfectly covering where the other would leave open. 

It was a level of teamwork even the X-Men couldn't manage. Laura fell in with the three other strangers while the other two worked together and occasionally jumped in with Deadpool.

(continued on Ao3)

as I promised @twilightkitkat

ANOTHER ONE but with Laura

[skipper1331]

Penalty // Jessie Fleming

a/n: based off this and this request.

Anger was the only thing Jessie felt when she stormed off the pitch. How could that be fair?! A penalty, really?!

-

Chelsea was about to face Real Madrid in the Champions League group stages. Everybody was excited as it was the first CL match for the team this season. One simple instruction to follow: win.

Emma Hayes wanted to win. She chose her starting eleven very carefully as she had analyzed Madrid’s last games - it should be easy to win. She addressed every weakness of the opposing team and fixed her own on exploiting those exact weaknesses. She was determined to win.

Jessie was in her chosen starting lineup while you were on the bench. You felt so much pride, knowing that she was in it. The girl was so hardworking, ambitious and caring, she deserved her start. Gladly, Emma shared that opinion, for once.

Sadly, Emma’s plan didn’t go as she had hoped, Real Madrid already getting on the scoreboard in the 10th minute - Olga Carmona scoring from distance.

The equalizer didn‘t come until the 41‘ Niamh getting her name of the scoreboard. It was 1-1, Emma Hayes not pleased with the performance of her team.

Her halftime talk was harsh, pointing out each mistake they had made before she got more tactical for the new playing style which the team should play in the second half.

The second half started with chaos as the blues tried to find their rhythm with the new orders from their coach - no changes made yet. 10 minutes in, they found it, trying their best to get in the lead which they did in the 74‘

-

When Athenea del Castillo ran with the ball towards Chelsea’s box, Jess sprinted after her.

Unfortunately, the midfielder slide tackled her, the Madrid player deciding to let herself fall in the box - the ref blowing her whistle, immediately pointing to the penalty spot. All the subs jumped from their seats, yelling as the players on the field started to argue with the ref. No way, that was a penalty! Jess was shocked about the decision. She didn’t touch her! Let alone in the penalty area!

The ref‘s decision stood - penalty.

Steam was radiating off Jessie‘s body, she felt so mad. Where was var when you needed it? Her decision was ridiculous, every Blue agreed on that opinion yet Madrid happy with it.

The Canadian prayed that Olga would miss.

She didn‘t.

2-2.

Emma Hayes furios. No, she wasn‘t mad at Jessie but angry at the referee and the scoreline. Beating Real Madrid should‘ve been easy.

Despite the teams best efforts to make it 3-2, every attempt was stopped by the goalie or even earlier by the defence.

The final whistle blew, the score 2-2.

Jessie was angry, beyond angry. She was disappointed in herself, angry at the referee and sad about the result. What did she do to deserve this? For once, she was in the starting lineup and then something like that happens. Nobody was blaming her but the ref, yet that didn’t help to lift her bad mood.

Sweet girl Jessie was angry, a sight people rarely ever see. Of course, she shook every opponents hand - she wasn’t childish by any means.

But as soon as she did so, she left the pitch, storming off to the changing rooms.

Your eyes watched every movement, your mind debating if you should follow her. Your heart told you not to, not yet. She needed some minutes to calm down and you knew she could only process her feelings in silence. Respecting her boundaries, you gave her some time to cool off, the team going to the Chelsea fan side, saying their thank yous as they signed some jerseys and took some pictures.

After some time, you excused yourself from the team, walking towards the changing rooms.

You knocked at the door, not wanting to startle her as you entered the locker. The girl sat in her cubby, shin pads in front of her, no doubt that she had smacked them on the floor. She was still in her gear, her cheeks red and puffy - she had been crying. Wordlessly, she sat beside her, not caring whose cubby it was. All you cared was about Jessie. You didn‘t say anything and you wouldn‘t until she made a move. There was no pressure in your action, you were with her - she wasn‘t alone.

"Can… can you hold my hand?" she whispered, breaking the silence. Gently, you lifted her hand from her lap, intertwining your fingers before you settled your holding hands back down. Her head fell on your shoulder, hiding in the crook of your neck while she wanted to shut out the world. At least for as long as she could.

When the first few girls started to enter the changing room, Jessie left your touch completely. She didn‘t want to seem weak in front of her friends nor did she want any pitty from them.

She was a girl of privacy and even though the team knew the two of you were a couple, a very lovey-dovey one as well, there wasn‘t much pda.

Respecting her act, you stood up and went to your cubby, getting ready to leave. Every now and then you would glance towards the Canadian, only to find her eyes already on you. To be honest, you couldn’t read her eyes or facial expression - you could only imagine what she was feeling. Normally, you didn’t have a problem with reading Jessie‘s body language as you knew her like the back of your hand but this was different, this was something new.

-

On the way to the airport, the girl sat beside you - she hadn‘t said a word since her question in the locker. She stared out of the window, watching the streetlights disappear in the darkness of the night.

Every inch in her body was fighting against the urge of crying and falling in your arms. I am strong, she told herself. But the only thing she wanted, was to have your arms wrapped around her securely, your soothing voice whispering sweet nothings as you drew some patterns on her back, making her fall asleep in an instant.

The plane ride went the exact same; Jess didn’t say a word, caught up in her own world yet her hand holding yours tightly. She needed your touch.

Arriving in London felt like a relief for Jess, she could breathe again.

Late at night, early in the morning you arrived at home, "Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently, placing your bags on the floor and guiding her to living room right after. You took a seat on the couch, pulling her on your lap. Her facade was gone. It was just the two of you. As you looked at her, she broke down, all emotions spilling at once. Tears ran down her cheeks as she started to sob in your chest. She held onto you for her dear life. Your hand rubbed her back, trying to calm her down as you held her just as tight. "It’s all my fault!" she cried, guilt eating her up alive. Because of her, the team had jeopardized their lead, the game ending in a draw because of her mistake.

"Baby, no it‘s not" you whispered, adding more sweet nothings which you knew she liked.

"It is!" she leaned back, eyes locking with yours as so much emotion was written in them, "that stupid tackle! I didn‘t even- it wasn‘t even- that shouldn‘t have been a penalty!"

Furiously, tears ran out of her eyes while it broke your heart to see the sweetest girl in so much pain. It wasn‘t her fault, "I know, my love, I know" you told her, thumb caressing the apple of her cheek.

The brunette let herself melt in your embrace, the only comfort that would help as she hid in your grasp. Your arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer before you laid down on the couch properly. Your head rested on one of the cushions, Jessie‘s on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck while her hands grasped your shirt. Your legs were tangled together, both of your arms around her waist as the one hand started to draw patterns on her back. "I love you so much" you whispered, kissing the top of her head as you continued whispering sweet nothings.

Her eyelids became heavy and body exhausted, your voice calming her down as your pattern drawing relaxed her. Slowly but surely, she drifted off to sleep. You carried on with your actions, wanting to bring her as much comfort as you could, not minding that she was asleep. You were glad that she was.

And even though the girl was fast asleep, she knew you‘re comforting her - you always were because you were her comfort.

[neonpaperlanterns]

Okay part two of the last request! (Also good job on the first one).

Dog day x reader heavy angst to fluff.

Poppy, kissy, and dog day realize the reader has been taken by catnap. They search for he and only end up back in play house. Throughout the search dog day gets more and more panicked and aggressive. They find the reader is bad shape and hung in the same jail like dog day used to be. (Trigger warning). Dog day, while seeing this, just losses his mind…his pupils no longer visible in his eye sockets. Catnap taunts dog day asking if he’s that attached to the reader before dog day tackled his and fights him. The fight pretty gore heavy and dog day yells at catnap while fighting saying he should’ve killed him. It gets to a point where dog day is about to kill catnap but the reader weakly calls for him and he immediately stops and looks back to see them okay. They run away and nurse her back to health before dog day confessed that he loves her and the two kiss. The end!

Wake Up

Part two of Star Gazing. [Part one]

[A/n: Trigger warnings for mild blood and gore. And technically attempted murder.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

DogDay fought against the rubble of their destroyed fort. Smoke clogged his nose and made his head spin. The world around him was becoming hazy as he clawed his way out. There was a throbbing sensation in his left leg as he attempted to right himself. Scrubbing at his eyes, he tried to clear his vision. 

It wasn’t working. 

Shapes were blurring together and his knees were buckling. 

“Angel?” He called out, his voice filled with choked panic. He was met with silence. 

“Angel?” He called out again, trying to stay standing as he stumbled through the room. “Poppy? Kissy?” His voice echoed and bounced around in his own skull uncomfortably. 

“Where are you?” DogDay felt his shoulders sagging as his gait became uneven. Tripping into the hallway he tried to brace himself. He had to stay standing. He had to find them, had to find you. But his arms weren’t working, they felt disconnected from the rest of him. And with every shuddering breath he took he filled his lungs with more of that horrible gas. 

“No I have to…. I have to…” words slurred together as he slipped down the wall. “Have to find every… everyone..” Against his will DogDay’s eyes dropped closed. Even behind closed lids all he could see was red.

* * *

“W..ke u.. ,Do..da.. co..e on wa..e up!” DogDay groaned, something was touching him and he needed it to stop. 

“Go away.” He went to push away the insistent thing that kept shoving him but everything was just so heavy.

“No! Ple..e you hav.. to g..t up!” Oh god why were they so loud! 

“DOGDAY!” Every fiber of his being shattered like glass as his eyes snapped open. Adrenaline tore through his veins as he bolted up. Pain lanced through his head as his gaze bounced around unfocused.

“Wha-” small hands grabbed at his face. But something was incorrect, it made the hair on his spine stand on end. 

“It’s us, it’s Poppy.” His heart was thundering in his chest as he tried to even his breathing. Looking down he felt more confused than reassured as he stared at Poppy.

“Where’s..” he trailed off, eyes darting around looking for you. Yet all he found was Kissy and the small doll still grasping at his face. 

“Catnap took them.” Poppy’s voice came out quiet as she clutched at him.

DogDay stopped breathing, his vision was narrowing .

No. 

This couldn’t be happening.

No. No. No. 

A low snarl was building in his chest as he dug furrows into the ruined ground. He has no idea how you have kept calm in situations like this. How you kept them all from falling apart. He wished he could be but he wasn’t you. Standing up he felt as the fur around his chin was tugged at and he heard the surprise squeak leave Poppy as she dropped to the ground. If you were here you would comfort her, you wouldn’t have pulled away like he did. But you weren’t and Dogday wasn’t you.

Storming his way out of the school he didn’t stop to see if the others were following. He knew exactly where that traitor had taken you. Ripping out the metal lamppost that stood out front, he felt it twist and bend underneath his grip. 

“DogDay wait, we should think this through.” Poppy called after him but he didn’t listen. You would have listened. You always listened to them, to their concerns, their fears, everything. You listened.

But he was not you.

Gritting his teeth DogDay stared down The Playhouse. 

“Please-” Poppy flinched backwards as a snarl tore from his throat, interrupting her. 

“No! Angel needs us. I will not leave them with that thing for another moment.” Later he would regret how he acted towards Poppy but right now he didn’t care. His heart clenched in his chest and he could feel the blood rushing in his ears. The door loomed above him and he could feel himself hesitating. 

DogDay could still smell the cloying scent of old blood and mildew. He could still see those hungry piercing eyes. Could still feel those gaping ravenous mouths tearing him apart piece by piece. 

Bile pooled at the back of his throat. He had thought he would never have to come back here. Had done everything to make sure that you, him, or the girls wouldn’t have to step foot inside that hellish nightmare again. But here he was and he was hesitating and he hated himself for it.You needed him and he was just standing out here. 

The image of your content face and the feeling of your weight on his chest flooded his mind. 

Gritting his teeth he tightened his grip on the metal pole. 

BANG!

Metal creaks as he kicks the door.

BANG!

This isn’t subtle. He was sure Catnap could hear this.

BANG!BANG!BANG!

Pain lances through his leg.

CRASH!

DogDay is breathing heavily as dust flies up into the air. He can hear skittering as he runs towards the cells. The feeling of being followed made his skin scrawl as he rushed through the once colorful plush maze. His vision narrowed as he threw himself at the entrance to the pool. 

He stopped again. 

The pool area was shrouded in deep shadows, the only light came from the one above the other door. It flickered sporadically, elongating the silhouettes made by the rusted ducks. 

Memories unbidden clawed their way to the forefront of his mind.

Everything is so quiet, it feels near deafening after the alarms. He can still hear the screaming, how they cried for help. The phantom of pounding fists pulse along his chest and the taste of iron still lingers on his tongue. His head is spinning, the world is tilted and he doesn’t know which way is up.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!” DogDay shouts. Ears twitch as Catnap turns to look at him. The feline's head is titled in confusion. He flinches as the cat approaches, slow and measured Catnap looms above him.

“What do you mean what I’ve done?” A heavy purple paw still stained with blood comes up to rest on his shoulder. 

It pulls him closer.

“I think you mean, what have we done.” the words slither along DogDays’s ears. It makes him gag. The smell of poppy’s is suddenly rapidly filling the air.

“And what we have done my friend is give those that hurt us exactly what they deserve.”

Eyes flutter open, DogDay’s vision slowly swims into focus. Everything feels heavy. Attempting to lift his head feels impossible. 

A wheezing groan escapes past his uncomfortably parched mouth.

“Oh you’re awake.” The sound of Catnaps voices makes his stomach churn. 

“That’s unfortunate.” It’s said with dull amusement. “But I suppose you will succumb again soon.” The way the cat was speaking was grating on his ears. 

“Wh.. Why?” He choked out, his throat felt so dry. Catnaps hums at his question. Through blurry eyes he watches as a paw comes up to rest on lower abdomen. 

“He said it would be better this way.” Catnaps' tone continues to hold the same dull amusement.

“What wou- Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”

DogDay sucked in a breath, heart leaping into his throat as a scream echoed through the decrepit pool room. The sound bounced around in his skull and for a moment he didn’t know if it was real. What was happening? Clutching at his chest he felt like all the air had escaped his lungs.

“Aaaahhhhh!” Another scream and he was moving. Ramming into the other door he burst into the other room. The faint orange glow of old candles littered the hallway. Visibility was low but it didn’t matter. At the end of the room stood Catnap, hunched over with gas billowing out of his mouth. 

He couldn’t see you but he could hear you. Soft quiet sobs drifted through the air. 

“Oh you’re here.” He watched as the feline cocked his head to the side. Something flickered in those cavernous eyes.

“We thought you’d never come.” Catnap’s tail swished lazily as he fully turned to look at DogDay. The traitor's face was on full display now and something snapped inside of the canine. Blood was splattered across the feline's face. It stained the purple fur crimson and the world suddenly became solely centered on the cat. 

DogDay saw red. 

In seconds he was breathing the same air as that… that bastard. Raising his weapon, it made contact with CatNap’s head. The monster screeched as he attempted to scramble backwards. DogDay didn’t let him get far. Bringing the pole down he could hear a CRUNCH.

Catnap’s shoulder sagged. 

He brought it down again.

And again.

And again.

Catnap was screaming. Red was pooling beneath him. He was trying to fight back. Claws would swipe at him, tearing into his skin but he kept bringing the metal pole down. Kept hearing crunch after crunch.

“DogDay.”

 Scream after scream.

“DogDay!”

Plea after false plea,

“DOGDAY!” DogDay stopped, the pole raised. His body shook from the aborted motion. 

“DogDay please stop. Please.” His head snapped to the side. You hung there in a cell all too familiar. Your arms stretched above you with belts pulled tight enough to bruise. Blood spotted along your clothes and dripped from your mouth. He swallowed thickly as he looked at your tear stained face.

“Please.” You begged, your voice hoarse. The pole clattered to the floor as he rushed over to you. His hands were shaking as he undid your binds. You dropped heavily into his waiting arms. 

He watched as you curled closer to his chest.

“Please get me out of here.” He could only nod at your request. His voice failed him as he held you close. Taking uneasy steps towards the exit he glanced behind him.

Catnap was a bloody heap. He was breathing, it was shallow but he was breathing. Trickles of smoke fell from his gaping maw and one eye light flickered, stained a murky red. The cat watched them with a look DogDay could not decipher. A paw weakly reached out towards him, Catnaps jaw clicked wordlessly.

DogDay shut the door.

* * *

Hiding above PlayCare DogDay watched over you. 

You’ve been asleep for four days. Barely waking up enough for him to at least get some water in you. Poppy and Kissy would creep in, their movements skittish as they dropped off supplies. He would watch how weary they were, how they kept glancing at him and God he needed to apologize. Yet every time he tried the words would get caught in his throat. 

All he could muster was a nod of acknowledgement and a whispered ‘you don’t have to leave.’ but they wouldn’t stay. He really couldn’t blame them. 

Taking a fresh cloth he wiped it over your face. The cuts along your cheeks and forehead were thankfully shallow. He got the feeling they were meant to be superficial. A way to upset him, which worked. Rage and guilt bubbled in his gut every time he looked at you. 

If he hadn’t hesitated. If he had just been a little bit faster then maybe you wouldn’t be in the state you were.

“Now that’s not the expression I wanted to see when I woke up.” Your cracking voice had him dropping the cloth. His focus solely on your groggy lopsided smile.

“You’re awake.” His voice comes out wobbly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I should go get-” A hand on his face cuts him off. Your thumb is tracing along his cheek and you’re looking at him with such affection that it makes all his thoughts but one come to a halt.

“I’m so happy you’re awake.” He choked out as tears welled in his eyes. “And I’m so sorry.” He cried as he nuzzled further into your hand. 

“No, no, don't apologize.” You’re hushing him, wiping his tears away as you cradled his head in your hands. “Please don’t apologize. What happened wasn’t your fault.” You lean your forehead against his.

Tears blurr his vision as he continues to cry. “But-” A soft bush of lips against his make him pause. Leaning back he stares at you, wide-eyed.

“No buts. I love you, you saved me. You protected me. Never apologize for that.” You shake him a little bit for emphasis. 

“You love me?” He asks, disbelief coloring his tone.

“Yes, very much.” You’re smiling and his heart is beating so fast and hard that he is sure you can hear it.

“I love you too, so much that I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest.” Tentatively he leaned forward. “Can.. Can I?” He looks down at your lips then back up to your eyes. 

You answer him by closing the gap. He can feel as your hands gently run over the back of his head. His arms came up to wrap around your waist. 

DogDay melts into your embrace. 

When this is all over he can’t wait to see the stars with you.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Susanoo x Fem!Yoriichi Reader

He would be Reader’s #1 Fan! As he is God of the Blade, so he took great pride in Reader cultivating a new Sword Style and one with such beauty, power, flexibility, strength, history and she branched different types of Breathing Forms

He becomes a huge dork as he babbles about how Reader’s Sword Style has developed beautifully in the time she created it and after her death (He admires her a LOT) as he talks about every detail and trait in each Breathing Form is unique, they all focus on those with different strengths and weaknesses and have it work on those strengths and weaknesses to make one stronger

He would go on and one about the beautiful craftsmanship and metal used in making Demon Slayer Swords (He has stars in his eyes when he learns the metal changes color from user to user and if you have enough skill from training to change them)

-You enjoyed your time in Valhalla, mainly because you had the opportunity to spar against so many strong warriors from all over the world and from different time periods.

-It made for good practice, and you were able to expand your own skills by being able to go toe-to-toe with any of the warriors who sought you out.

-Just because you were a woman didn’t mean that you were a pushover by any means, many of the warriors learned that lesson early on, after you kicked their asses with ease.

-Kojiro and Okita were common opponents, as you always gave them a challenge, even if you didn’t see it as a challenge, making it look easy, but they were always appreciative of you willing to spar with them.

-They had recently found a new friend, in a god, Susanoo, God of storm and swords, who was an expert in using his own weapon, having trained himself for years with humanity.

-Kojiro had casually mentioned you, claiming you were the strongest, and when he turned back to ask the god something, only the blinking outline of where he had been there, as he ran off, looking like an excited child, looking for you.

-His jaw dropped when he saw you, fighting against some demons that had escaped Helheim, using your breathing techniques, showing your pure, raw strength.

-When the last demon was dispatched, you weren’t expecting to be blindsided with a tackle hug by some unknown man who had sparkles for eyes who then proceeded to bombard you with question after question, wanting to know EVERYTHING!!!

-He was a bit much, he was like a hyper dog who followed you everywhere, constantly asking questions, wanting to see you fight, wanting to see your breathing techniques. He was like a fan boy if you had to put a word to it.

-Despite being annoying at first, as he never left you alone, he did grow on you, you found his enthusiasm refreshing, and his dedication to sword fighting was commendable, you didn’t know of too many others who worked as hard as he did, besides warriors like Lu Bu and Kojiro.

-He learned how difficult total concentration breathing was, having to push his body past the limit but still be able to fight, but once he was able to do it for the first time, he was so elated, running around and cheering, before he passed out.

-Kojiro couldn’t help but laugh when he saw you dragging Susanoo to his place on your bag, letting this much taller man drag behind you.

-The day you introduced him to the craftsmen who made the swords for the Corp members here in Valhalla, he was hugging you so hard while ugly crying that you did feel fear for a moment that you were going to be stuck there for the rest of your days.

-Susanoo was so impressed with the craftsmen, watching the process from ore to blade, to the point that he annoyed Haganezuka so much that the angry man had to chase him away for a few days, much to your slight amusement.

-Susanoo witnessed a blade changing color for its new wielder, showing the affinity of the power and concentration they had, proving they were a worthy warrior.

-You felt bad for the poor recruit who had to deal with this massive puppy like dog holding him hostage, asking him all sorts of questions while having that look in his eye that he wanted to spar, scaring the recruit enough that one of the Hashira had to come over to scold him.

-You held Susanoo’s hand as he was comically crying, looking like a child, as you led him away, heading towards your training grounds.

-You felt bad, seeing him looking so upset as he wanted to know more. He as very passionate you had to give him that.

-You smiled softly down at him, “Are you up for a match?” he was quick to rebound back, and beamed brightly, “Loser buys lunch again?” you smiled, hearing the normal prize for when he fought you, and so far you had never had to pay for lunch as you drew your blade, “Not this time- whoever loses has to grant a wish to the winner.”

-His eyes went wide, surprised to hear this, before he grinned, pulling out his own sword, “I’m wonder what I should wish for then!” You could only smirk, not willing to let him win. You wanted your prize.

[youryurigoddess]

Maggie’s pendants and good omens

Yes, you’ve read it right. This post is going to deal with some literal good omens, not just title drop! But first things first, let’s take a closer look at the topic of this analysis.

A toucan

The top necklace is a lovely design involving a crowned toucan — believed to be a messenger of gods able to travel between the spiritual and the physical world, often associated with rain and rainbow (a Christian symbol of divine love, grace, and mercy, a reminder of the covenant between God and humanity to spare the latter from future trials like the Flood) — encircled by a gold band (a symbol of infinity, eternal love and promise) spun by a small butterfly (a symbol of transformation, hope, and rebirth). All three symbols combined seem to deliver a divine message of hope for rebirth, possibly resurrection, and the eternal life. Very fitting in the context of the Second Coming.

The fact that toucans were revered by the native South Americans as rainbringers strengthens the symbolic meaning of another type of bird we can spot on Maggie’s clothes in the very first episode, as her character introduction — a swallow. Swallows flying low are also believed to be harbingers of rain and bad weather. If you see one close to Earth or a building, it means that there’s a storm — or a certain biblical tempest — on the horizon.

In Ancient Greece and Rome swallows were representing Aphrodite, goddess of love. In Christianity they were considered to be of God and symbolized hope, awakening, and revival of life as messengers of spring and protectors from winter colds. Also helped Jesus on the Cross — according to a Christian legend, a group of swallows was supposed to take out the thorns from the Crown of Thorns and alleviate His Passion on the Cross. Humans banding together in the name of good have been a big theme in the series ever since The Them made an appearance, and from what we already know about the unpublished Good Omens sequel, we can assume that Jesus is going to take the spotlight in the upcoming season.

Maggie definitely attracts sudden inexplicable weather changes, like a thunderstorm with weirdly localized lightning strikes or a sudden downpour. And we’re still waiting for some vavooming (and the following happy ending) to happen in S3.

A heart with an eye

Now, the more nuanced clue hidden in the bottom necklace. I know that some of us were trying to tackle the concept of Maggie’s eye in a heart pendant suggesting her Masonic connotations, but this symbol (or the Eye of Providence in general) isn’t strictly Masonic, it isn’t even limited only to Judeo-Christian art. And while it is used a lot in Christian iconography, we should focus on a very specific example of it already referenced in the show.

Buckle up, we’re making a parachute dive into S1.

It seems like our old friend, Agnes Nutter, still has our backs.

Prophecy 4020:

Let the wheel of fate turne, let harts enjoin, there are othere fyres than mine; when the whirl wynd whirls, reach oute one to another.

If you look closely at the bottom right corner of this frame, you will see that as an illustration for the above prophecy the production team chose a 1611 engraving titled The Minde should have a fixed Eye On Objects, that are plac’d on High first found in Gabriel Rollenhagen’s Nucleus emblematum selectissimorum.

In 1635 it was published in A Collection of Emblemes, Ancient and Moderne Quickened With Metrical Illustrations, both Morall and Divine, Etc by George Wither with the accompanying hymn:

A Heart, which bore the figure of an Eye

Wide open to the Sunne; by some, was us'd,

When in an Emblem, they would signifie

A Minde, which on Celestiall Matters mus'd:

Implying, by the same, that there is nought

Which in this lower Orbe, our Eyes can see,

So fit an Object for a manly thought,

As those things, which in Heav'n above us be.

God, gave Mankinde (above all other Creatures)

A lovely Forme, and upward-looking Eye,

(Among the rest of his peculiar Features)

That he might lift his Countenance on high:

And (having view'd the Beauty, which appeares

Within the outward Sights circumference)

That he might elevate above the Sphæres,

The piercing Eye, of his Intelligence.

Then, higher, and still higher strive to raise

His Contemplations Eyes, till they ascend

To gaine a glimpse of those eternall Rayes,

To which all undepraved Spirits tend.

For, 'tis the proper nature of the Minde

(Till fleshly Thoughts corrupt it) to despise

Those Lusts whereto the Body stands inclin'd;

And labour alwayes, upward to arise.

Some, therefore, thought those Goblins which appeare

To haunt old Graves and Tombes, are Soules of such,

Who to these loathsome places doomed were,

Because, they doted on the Flesh too much.

But, sure we are, well-minded Men shall goe

To live above, when others bide below.

And hey, guess what 4020, i.e., the number of the prophecy, symbolizes in Strong’s Concordance? Periergazomai, a Greek word meaning “to waste one's labor about something” — to meddle, going beyond proper boundaries (where a person doesn't belong); to fixate on what others are doing, instead of doing what the person himself is supposed to do.

It appears only once in the Bible:

2 Thessalonians 3:11: We hear that some among you are idle and disruptive. They are not busy; they are busybodies. Such people we command and urge in the Lord Jesus Christ to settle down and earn the food they eat. And as for you, brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good.

To make things slightly more interesting, in the Hebrew version of Strong’s Concordance 4020 has another meaning — migbaloth, meaning “twisted things, i.e. cords”. Which doesn’t make much sense until we read the actual passage:

Exodus 28:24 and two chains of pure gold, twisted like cords; and you shall attach the corded chains to the settings.

And compare it to the most recent post on the topic published directly by Word of God:

What if all these clues didn’t apply to Maggie and Nina, but Aziraphale and Crowley instead? What if Maggie served as a messenger — consciously or not — just like the toucan, delivering the prophecy to those who need it most?

“When the tempest comes and darkness and great storms, and the dead will leave their graves and walk the Earth once more and there will be great lamentations for the end is near, don’t lose hope, hold hands and look up.”

Basically what Aziraphale and Crowley already did when they performed the 25 Lazarii miracle, only with no interference from Gabriel this time around.

And, if both Strong’s Concordance and Maggie’s personal addition to her second pendant are to be believed, with a wedding band somehow involved in the process.