#honestly thank you for being so thorough

[write-like-wright]

sorry if i'm answering your question in the wrong place, i'm still not entirely sure how actually talking to people on tumblr is supposed to work lol

i think a big reason why so many people like ace attorney even when they haven't played it is honestly, probably vibes. the ace attorney characters are all brilliantly designed, in that you can tell their personalities based simply on the way they look. combine this with weirdos who don't care about spoilers, and you get fans who haven't played any of the games. i can see someone becoming a huge blackquill fan from fanart or something, and then extending that to the other characters as well. or they really like the idea of gay lawyers, and like to see content of them being gay (honestly fair). there's also a lot of entertaining youtube videos out there (*cough* objection funk *cough*) that can be enjoyed even without knowledge of the series (even if they should probably play it before watching videos about it), which definitely adds to the whole 'vibes' thing. i've noticed that your blog posts a lot of screenshots of the characters saying silly things, or being sassy, or acting gay, etc. so i could see why even people without much attachment to the ace attorney series as a whole might interact with you specifically, it's just another silly thing to laugh about. you're pretty good at adding the right (wright) amount of context as well, and your tags provide a more personal insight into the screenshots, so if i had to imagine it from the perspective of someone who hasn't played any of the games, following your blog is sort of like a more structured version of listening to a friend in the other room yell at you excitedly about the series (i mean this in the best way). you said "what do people get out of out-of-context screenshots" or something to that effect, but although they're out-of-context of the rest of the trial, the jokes make perfect sense on their own.

sorry if that was a bit long and rambling, but those were all the reasons i could think of.

guys, someone with 500 iq actually explained it!!!!

honestly, thank you so much for sending me such an in-depth reaponse. this is one of those things that i simultaneously get and don't get based on how i personally function as a human and interact with media. to me, this is like being a fan of a movie series without ever having seen it and that's not something i could ever relate to, but i suppose different strokes for different folks.

[helluvapoison]

Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!

How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333

Lend A Helping Hand

Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening

warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not

[i]

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart

• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt

• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”

• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake

• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings

• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!

• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color

• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more

• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet

• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)

• “A thousand times better, thank you,”

• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily

• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.

You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk

“Go. Away.”

“Yikes, tense much?”

Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare

“Adam!”

• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided

• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation

• He blames you for turning him into a liar

• “If you make it weird—!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”

• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration

• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers

• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”

• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done

• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments

• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her

• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings

• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now

• Lute is diligent in all she does

• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you

• She won’t let you ruin her reputation

• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)

• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done

• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”

˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first

• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t

• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt

• You look so damn pitiful!

• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches

• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings

• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain

• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather

• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”

• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”

• Significantly less nervous when she’s done

•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner

˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone

• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about

• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore

• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding

• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”

• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”

• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings

• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar

• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?

• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble

• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly

• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe

[luveline]

i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again

for you gorgeous ♡ fem

cw adult themes

Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 

He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 

You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 

"Trouble?" he asks. 

"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 

You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 

"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 

You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 

"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 

He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 

"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 

"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."

Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 

It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 

Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 

Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 

"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 

"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 

"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 

You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 

"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 

"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 

"Stop calling him that." 

You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 

You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 

But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 

You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 

"Are you okay?" 

You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 

Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 

"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 

"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 

Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 

He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush. 

[b1rds3ye]

Mask On

How the boys react to their new ally who is more adamant on wearing their mask than Ghost himself.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except shorter than Ghost)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1 (~0.8 each)

Warning: Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Reader potentially having insecurities, Not Proof Read

A/N: You know what maybe I want to be the badass masked character 😤

Captain John Price

The captain is thorough, and he immediately knew something was up when he looked up your file only to be greeted with no photo. He’s honestly a little peeved that his rank doesn’t grant him this confidential information, he’s known Simon before he took up the mask so this is the first time he’s genuinely had a faceless ally

But ultimately, as long as he can trust that you’ll be following orders, he doesn’t care if you have a mask or not. But his concern is only that for a fellow soldier

It takes a little longer for him to warm up to you - facial expressions tell a lot about someone’s character. He’s a bit prickly around you, he learns about you indirectly with how you interact with the rest of the 141

But over time there’s a shift. He can’t pinpoint when exactly but the sight of your mask relaxes him. After days separated on a mission, high stakes and adrenaline has Price snapping his head at the faintest of foreign sounds. But upon the familiar sight of your signature mask, he feels at ease

Price is fiercely protective of you and your mask. He likens it to his hat, only far more important - that mask is part of your identity and he knows just how important a soldier’s psyche is. If the enemy manages to take off your mask, he’ll stop at nothing to get it back on your behalf, even if you reluctantly tell him to abandon it

If he can’t salvage your mask, Price has now made it a habit to carry a balaclava for you in one of his pockets. If that’s not available, he’ll even offer you his hat, tipping it down far enough to obscure your eyes

Off duty he finds himself staring at your visage more these days. Looking at how the mask curves over your features, or the small slivers of skin that reveal themselves. He catches himself before you notice but he’s still disappointed in himself, he feels like a Victorian-era prude hyperventilating at the sight of an ankle

“Looking fresh, sergeant.”

You let out an audible chortle at Price’s words. The last mission was a success but at great costs, one of them being your mask damaged beyond repair during melee combat. Your face still wasn’t revealed, but slashes against fabric embedded with dirt and ash have made your signature mask look unrecognisable. Immediately upon returning to base and after debriefing, you were out of commission until you could don a new mask.

Price would be lying if said he didn’t miss your presence for the last few days, hiding away from the rest of the soldiers in base. He has no doubt you’ve still maintained your training and visiting the infirmary for mandatory checkups, but he’s gotten far too used to you being at his beck and call. The famed sight of your mask is no longer in his periphery, giving a nod of approval (not that he ever needed your approval, but he does enjoy your attention).

And now here you are with a new mask, the highlights glowing under the overhead lights and the darks swallowing up the lightwaves like an animal starved. Your updated look had you noticeably confident, shoulders square and head tall.

“Thanks, Captain.”

He can hear your smile and he ends up sitting next to you. Did he need to sit so close? No, but he acts as though his thigh brushing against yours was pure coincidence.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, giving a light pat to a pocket in your cargo pants that your past mask currently resides in. “I know there’s a lot of memories in this… it’s my first mask… but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’ll keep it.”

You look at him. Price now has the uncanny ability to read your mood purely through your body language. From the speed at which you turn your head, the inclination of the neck, how your shoulders slant, he’s surprised that such a vicious soldier can act so endearingly in these moments.

“For what?”

“Safekeeping,” he says simply. “I’m proud of my soldiers, sergeant - want to remember their accomplishments.”

You shrug in agreement and fish your mask out of your pocket. You don’t need to know how much Price truly values you, how having your mask will be like having a part of you by his side to motivate him when he’s working alone.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You’ve got a mask? Cool, so does he. Simon really doesn’t care when he first met you. He offers a simple nod of acknowledgement to you and then it’s all mission talk. If anything, the mask makes him respect you more, like him it’s always the masked ones who’ve seen shit and can get shit done

Even before you two became friends, you two were often paired together for operations. Perhaps it was just assumed the two masked people were on the same wavelength and to be fair, they were right. It didn’t take long for Ghost to admire your prowess on the battlefield

However as the two of you start to get closer, Simon gets a bit of a eureka moment. So this is how all his allies feel when trying to get along with a masked figure, unable to see any of their expressions. Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not daunting for him, more just amusing

He knows the struggles of having a mask so he helps out where he can. He reminds you if it’s been some time since you last washed your mask (advice he does not follow himself) and he’ll offer you some of his obsidian powder he uses to obscure any uncovered patches of skin

Price often has the two of you accompany him for interrogations, he calls it “mask pressure”. There’s nothing more terrifying to a target than having two imposing faceless figures standing on either side of them, unreadable and unpredictable

It’s clear you don’t want to show your face to anyone and Simon doesn’t question it. His natural curiosity is not worth your discomfort and he makes that abundantly clear. If on the rare occasion you catch him without a mask, he’ll sometimes put it back on so that you don’t have to be the only one with their face covered

If your mask is ever compromised, Simon covers you with his hulking figure. No one dares get on the bad side of Ghost who shoots the most terrifying glares towards anyone looking in his - and consequently your - way. He stands in front of you, back rigid and shoulders square, his posture only slacking if he feels you hold onto his back, seeking comfort

A few weeks ago, when left in a briefing, you finally noticed Simon was staring at you from across the room. He had been staring for a good while now, but you - ever the diligent soldier - were distracted discussing tactics with a corporal. So there he was, standing and observing in the corner of the room - his “observing” being drinking the sight of you. And that was when he noticed, among all the glory that was you, that your mask was slightly off alignment. Cue his eyes being trained on your head for you to get the idea that something was wrong.

When your head stayed still - probably challenging his gaze - he tried to change tactics. He added the occasional upward jerk of the head - miming an attempt to shake the mask back in place - but your head only tilted in confusion. You still could not figure out what he was doing.

Eventually he gave up and walked up to you. He lifted a tentative hand, silently asking for permission and you nodded. He pinched at the fabric on the side of your face.

“Your mask’s slippin’,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t the end of the world, only a small adjustment that only someone as observant as him could notice. Still, he felt satisfied at your heavy exhale, you must’ve noticed it’s a little easier to breathe with everything in alignment now.

“Thanks.”

Today, Simon finds your gaze trained on him, head following whenever he moves across the room. You used to stare when you first met, you probably found him intimidating and he doesn’t blame you. He thought you’d be over that though, you two were closer than that. At least he hoped.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He eventually asks and that spurs you into action.

Standing in front of him, you reach up, your hand grabbing the top half of the skull that overlays his balaclava. Your thumb lightly hooks into the skull’s eye socket - a little close to Simon’s actual eye but he trusts you. He feels you tug upwards, and Simon now realises that the skull had been sinking down his face, the peripheral around his brow no longer obscured. He’ll need to reapply the glue for the mask later.

“We really need a hand sign for this,” you mutter.

And so you two make one. It’s discreet, a closed fist with a thumb poking out, dragged from the jawline up to the hairline. The rest of the 141 just look at the two of you in confusion whenever you use it though, your little secret.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny’s generally a good judge of character. Although it’s a little uncanny being unable to see your features, he’s used to it because of Simon. One conversation is all he needs to reach a conclusion as to what type of person you are and now he treats you as if you’re good friends

Yes, he is curious about what you look like under the mask. He used to make comments about it occasionally until he caught you on a bad day

“C’mon Sarge, just a peek.” “Not happening, Johnny.” “What, you ugly?” “… that’s not for you to speculate, MacTavish.” “Shit, sorry. I- I’d never think that of you, or care. I know you’re a looker.”

And Johnny stands by his statement. Even if he’s never seen your face he quickly developed a little crush on you. How you conduct yourself in battle has him watching you with stars in his eyes and he just knows you’ll take his breath away if you ever show your face

When Johnny’s bored, he likes doodling your mask and potential alternative designs in his journal which he’ll show you sometimes. He’s not an artist but he gets the idea across. He’s created a “happy” design, an “angry” one, and the “when I see Soap” design which is just your standard mask with a whole lot of shoddily drawn love hearts on it (you haven't seen that design yet)

He’s genuinely surprised at how determined you are at keeping your mask on in all circumstances - you’re worse than Simon at this point - but he’ll never ask because he doesn’t want to potentially open up old wounds. Despite his curiosity for what you could look like, Johnny will never invade your privacy and ensures no one else does either. If you’re in your room he’ll knock once, twice, thrice, until he’s absolutely sure you’re ready for him to enter

If something goes wrong and your mask falls off he’s looking away and shoving everyone else to look away as well. He’s like a guard dog, shouting and name-shaming anyone who dares look in your direction. No one except other members of the 141 will be able to approach you until you’re covered

Was it smart to have you and Soap - combined to be the most disruptive and obnoxious soldiers on the field - alone to handle a stealth mission that was off the books? No, but you sure as hell weren’t going to disappoint Price or Laswell. The objective was clear and the rules of engagement were even clearer; under no circumstance can the enemy know you’re from 141.

“We’re gonna need to cover our faces,” Johnny mutters absentmindedly beside you. You pull your binoculars down to send him an incredulous look and he chuckles. “I need to cover my face.”

“You got a mask?”

There’s a pause and Johnny’s looking at you, eyes glinting in that familiar mischief. That was never good news.

“You bet.”

You offer a tentative nod of encouragement before lifting your binoculars back up to observe the target site. You hear the repeated shuffles of fabric against fabric and clothes sliding against skin. It’s prolonged, you swear it’s enough time for Johnny to change his entire uniform. His breaths become muted, mouth now covered until it eventually falls to complete silence. It’s unnerving, the designated demolitions expert is not known for his silence, and you have to look back at him yet again.

Of course you expected Johnny to be wearing a mask, but it was the mask itself that took you by surprise.

“Is that… mine?”

“Was yours.”

You squint and somewhere in the depths of your mind, you vaguely recall Soap asking if he could have one of your spare masks back at the base. You humoured him, and said your wardrobe was his.

That was your first mistake.

You figured he was just going to take the piss, wear your mask to scare some privates around the base. You didn’t think he’d actually wear it on a mission. It was unexpected, but it felt like an honour. How he was so willing to identify with you in some of the most dangerous of situations.

But your silence has Johnny getting fidgety. He’s already reaching up to pull the mask off.

“I have a normal balaclava. If you don’t like this I can-”

“Wear it.”

You can’t see Johnny’s face but you see him pull his head back in surprise. Then he smiles, one so wide, expanding his cheeks you can see it stretch your mask. In that moment you’re glad your mask obscures your features as you feel yourself grin at his own joy.

“We’re a team, aye?”

“You bet.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle’s may be close to Simon but he's not entirely used to masked allies. When you first arrived he shot Captain Price a cautious look, a silent conversation between them finished by Price’s definitive nod. Eventually he relents and puts up with you

Subconsciously, without seeing your face he ends up reducing you to a weapon. He respects you like a soldier, a robot. His language is restrained, only issuing orders and you recite them back

It’s only when another soldier cracks a joke on the mission and you laugh does it flick a switch in Kyle’s mind. You weren’t all orders, you weren’t a machine, you were a human (with a damn nice voice might he add). He feels terrible for reducing you to a tool simply because he can’t see your face but he’ll make up for it now

He becomes a bit of a menace in the sparse quiet moments of a mission. He makes the occasional one liner about how you wear the mask so others aren’t distracted by your good looks, but then changes the topic so quickly you’re not even sure he said it

Yes, Kyle’s a little obsessed with your voice. He can’t see you and he doesn’t have the experience like Price or Simon to read body language accurately. Instead, he can read your mood near perfectly with the inflections in your voice (which is arguably more impressive). While he doesn’t want you to ever be upset or angry, sometimes how you taunt the enemy has a shiver running down his spine

Because your mouth is blocked by a mask, many allies don’t offer you food or drinks. Not Kyle though, if he’s grabbed refreshments, he always ensures he has extra for you. At first he just gives them to you and then leaves. But when you said it was okay for him to stay - trusting him enough to just look away when you lift you mask - Kyle’s heart soared

If anything happens to reveal your face, Kyle is immediately by your side. He pulls you close to provide comfort, while also guiding your head into his neck or shoulder to block anyone from seeing you. Another member of the 141 will find a solution to cover your face, you are Kyle’s first priority and he’ll gladly hold you all day

After a long mission, you and Kyle are finally safe upon reaching exfil. Sitting on a helicopter Kyle slumps against his seat, and you do the same beside him. Although he could finally relax, he feels absolutely filthy, swamped in his own sweat under multiple layers. Dirt and mud caked his boots and crept all the way up to his thighs. Some even sneaked up into under his tactical vest.

He spares a look and sometimes he thinks you can’t possibly be human. The heat is suffocating enough without a mask, Kyle has long forgone his signature cap to let his head breathe. If your body language was any indicator, you weren’t handling the sweltering heat of the helicopter engine or Al Mazrah’s temperament. Your chest notably heaving under the weight of your tactical gear, breaths so laboured it sent the fabric around your mouth pulling and billowing with each inhale and exhale.

There isn’t much Kyle can do for comfort, but he tries. He shifts a little closer to you. Your head shifts to look at him, the movement was far too slow, like your head was too heavy and his heart tugs a little.

With one hand, Kyle gently tilts your face up to him. With the other he lightly pinches the fabric of your mask at the junction between your jawline and ear. Teasing it between his fingers, when he pulls his hand away there’s gunk on his fingertips. Dust, dirt and as he squints at your mask he realises that some of the stains are likely the dried blood of an unidentified enemy.

The hand he’s resting on your chin is about to pull away until he notices how you’re resting your head on it. He can’t see your face but he has no doubt that your eyes are near shut, almost drifting off to dreamland. He occupies himself by gently brushing away loose debris off your mask which has you relaxing further into his touch.

“We gotta wash this,” he murmurs defeatedly.

“... yeah, we do,” you grumble, voice thick with fatigue. Kyle does not stop his ministrations - even pulling some fluff off of the cotton of your mask. It does little to actually clean your mask - at this rate it’s going to need pure bleach to clean it - but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you trust him this much, leaning into his touch, entrusting him to be the respite from your mission.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[yelenaslyubov]

A New Frontier: Part 1

𓃗𐚁🏜𖤓⋆｡° ✮ // a new frontier // part 1 // part 2

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

a/n: welcome to the first part of my first series! like i said in my announcement, i’m not sure how many parts this series will have, but as i see it now, definitely over 6 so get excited about that!! this first part is definitely a build up to everything will be contained going further, so there’s not much adventuring in this one. i hope you enjoy!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova x reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: language

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: you’re granted the opportunity to join the avengers on your first top secret mission together. not only are you navigating your newfound status as an avenger, but you’re also trying to hide your affection for another avenger, yelena. you travel to your location in stealth and soon find out what kind of mess you’ve really gotten into.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 3.2k

Your eyes jolted open when you realized you had fallen asleep accidentally.

“…and we need to act fast in order to make sure we do our part in this mess. And remember, none of you jackasses better make a peep about this, I mean it.”

Shit.

You had fallen asleep during the majority of Tony’s mission announcement. This was the first stakeout call that you had been invited on since you had been recruited. Most jobs were simple and thorough—fighting and taking down a villain and so on. Everything was usually the same, except this time and you missed it.

“Alright, that’s all I got. Be ready and down to the pad in an hour.” Tony dismissed everyone from the room when they all dispersed and you were left disoriented from the meeting.

“AH, I’m so excited!” you heard Kamala squeal. You assumed she had been asked out on the mission as well, making this her first too. “I’ve never seen a horse in person before!”

Now you were even more confused as to what was happening. You decided to be surprised rather than ask too many questions, especially since you were new. You couldn’t be caught slacking on the job already.

You went up to your room to pack whatever you could with the little information you had. You remembered something being said in between your slumber about it being dry and hot, so you kept that in mind.

You packed all the toiletries you had since you did not know when you would return. You didn’t have a permanent suit currently, as it was still being worked on and you didn’t know when it was going to be done. You hoped you could finally break into it on this trip so you wouldn’t have to use one of the hand-me-downs.

You jumped as you heard a knock at your door. “Can I come in?” Kate shouted through the door. Even before you could speak Kate had opened the door and was on a mission.

“Do you have deodorant or a hairbrush? I-I must have lost mine or run out because I don’t know where they went.”

Kate was the first friend you had made since you had been recruited. You both hit it off immediately and she made the transition from normal life to super life much easier.

“How does one not know when they run out of deodorant?” you chuckled.

“I honestly don’t know. I think I kinda just slap it on without looking while I’m halfway out the door,” she stammered.

“Well in that case, yes, I have both deodorant and a hairbrush so you lucked out today.”

“Ugh, thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” Kate sighed. “Oh, by the way! If you’re all good with it I think Kamala was going to bunk with me and it’s three to a room so you wanna join?”

“Uhm, that sounds good,” you responded. You were nervous to be in such close proximity to so many new people, but you were excited to be involved in something this secretive.

“Awesome! Well, I’ll see you down there then.” Kate smiled and then ran out of the room in the same manner she came. It was then you realized you missed your chance to ask her what exactly you all were doing and what you should bring. It added even more mystery.

You had filled your duffel bag to the brim with anything you could think of—a couple books, clothes for all weather conditions, a swimsuit, a coat, etc. You had said goodbye to your room for the time being when you ran into another Avenger in the hallway.

“Oh, uhm hey.” You were face to face with a green-eyed woman looking slightly up at you. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“It’s good,” the woman smiled and shrugged. She walked off without saying a word and you felt an uncomfortable aura blooming.

The butterflies in your stomach slowed their flutter the farther away the woman went. You had learned in your first few days as an Avenger that her name was Yelena. She had short blonde hair and the most captivating eyes you had ever seen. She was nothing short of intimidating so you had exchanged little words between the two of you. This was most inconvenient for you because you were tired of her staring at you as if you were a bit helpless.

You hoped this trip proved otherwise.

You were still awkwardly standing in the hallway after your encounter with Yelena when Kamala came out of her room with what looked like all her belongings balances in her arms. You could make out her eyes peeking between different objects that looked like a fan and a small table.

“I hope I packed enough,” she said through muffled words. “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any problem with that,” you laughed. You watched her carefully walk down the stairs with the rest of her things.

Based on everyone’s timely exit, you assumed that you should probably make your way down to load up. When you made your way down to the pad where everyone else was waiting. Everyone’s packs varied in size so you had no idea how your packing job compared to anyone else’s.

Wanda and Nat had a decent sized suitcase for the both of them to share and others had small duffel bags. You giggled a little to yourself when you saw Peter’s only bag which appeared to be his school bag.

“How did you manage to fit everything in there, Pete?” you asked him.

“Oh uhm all I really need is a few clothes, but the rest is homework.”

“You’re bringing homework on an Avenger’s top secret mission?”

“Uh… yes?”

“That sounds like a sad life, Peter Parker.” You looked to your right where Yelena was standing. “Do you do anything for your own pleasure… like ever?”

You, Yelena, and Peter all stood together staring at one another, waiting for someone to say anything.

“Alright!” Tony yelled. “It’s time to load up.”

Everyone made their way onto their biggest quinjet they had and found their seats. You sat towards the back of the jet as you filed in behind Yelena. Conveniently, you sat directly behind her so you had the perfect view for the duration of the flight. Kamala sat down next to you with her stuffed giraffe in hand.

You heard the echo of the seat buckles clanking together as everyone took their place. You then watched as Yelena twisted her hair up high and put it in a bun. You were mesmerized by the way her blonde highlights caught the glimmer of light shining through the small windows.

Kate looked back at you at the wrong moment because she caught you staring at Yelena. She smirked and winked, signaling that she planned on keeping your secret. Your face was flush with embarrassment. You had not planned to let anyone in on your little crush but there was no going back now. All you had to do was prevent Yelena from finding out.

Tony hopped on last and shut the large door behind him. “As much as I wish I was joining you on this part of the excursion, I’m going to be residing on a small base right outside of the airport we’ll be flying into. I’m working on tracking air transportation as well as focusing on the technical aspects of the issue. I will be checking in regularly.

“As much as I would love to fly everywhere, we have to be more careful.” You looked around at the others to see if they had any clue to what he was talking about. “Once we arrive at the airport, you’ll be assigned vehicles that you must transport in. Using jets gets too risky with the high volume of dust and dirt. You would be noticed too easily that way, so it’s much easier to fit in with the rest of the crowd. Another form of transformation will be provided… promptly.”

Tony sat down in the controller seat without another word, leaving only you at a loss of what could be coming.

You stared at the back of Yelena once again before falling asleep to the sound of her voice and buttons pushing from inside the jet

.

.

.

You jolted awake at the sound of the large compartment door opening. It was abnormally bright and dust seemed to be swarming into the jet. You looked to your right to see Kamala passed out as well.

You stood up to stretch and grab your things, but you were distracted by the look on Yelena’s face as she stared at Kamala. She then turned to you and you were not sure what to do. Yelena looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

“You’ve got something about there…” Yelena gestured around the side of your mouth where you found dried drool from your peaceful sleep.

You frantically wiped it off the best you could and tried to shake the feeling of embarrassment that washed over you. “Oh, I’m sorry, thank you,” you nervously responded.

You proceeded to wipe everything off your face shamefully. You gave Kamala a small tap on the side of her arms in hopes to wake her up. She jolted awake as if she had been screamed at.

“What happened?” she said, groggily.

“You fell asleep…and it looks like we’re here,” you responded. You gathered your things and joined everyone at the front of the quinjet.

“Listen up!” Tony yelled. “This is where I leave you. You’ll be self-escorted from here to the designated vehicles that are waiting outside. I have implemented state of the art trackers and GPS in each of the vehicles. Try to use these vehicles as much as possible. When the time comes, by all means, do whatever is necessary to complete said task, but please, for the love of God, stay hidden. We do not need to be compromised and if I hear about any of you messing around…I will personally handle the situation, and you don’t want that.”

You looked back and forth from Kate to Kamala. You could tell Tony was being serious, which meant this mission was a whole lot harder than you led on in your mind.

As you all unloaded off of the jet the sun pierced through the door making you cover your eyes. Once your eyes adjusted to the brightness, you were met with the vast ground of red clay and trees in the distance. There was not a house or town in sight meaning you were far away from civilization.

“This is my worst nightmare,” Yelena whispered to Natasha.

“No kidding. I can already feel my skin sweltering,” she responded.

Your face recoiled when you saw the rides that were provided to each of you. “They’re joking right?”

“I wish,” Bucky said as he walked by you.

“Ain’t she a beaut, Cap?” Sam said while rubbing his hand back and forth down the side of the truck.

Before you were four rusty, beat-up pickup trucks that were supposed to be your rides for the time being. You weren’t even sure how long they were going to last. They were most definitely older than you.

“Are we sure these are safe to drive…or ride in?” Yelena questioned.

“They’re top of the line, I assure you,” Steve said.

“Maybe when you were born,” she mumbled.

You laughed at her comment and Yelena turned around to look at you and she smirked. Your face couldn’t help but turn a deep shade of pink, but you hoped the heat would disguise your blushing.

“Alright, let’s hit the road. We’re burning daylight here and it’s a two hour drive,” Steve informed everyone which earned a groan from each of them.

Steve, Sam, Bucky, Clint, and Peter took one of the trucks and planned on leading the way to the house. The rest of you assumed you could fit in one truck but there were two left and needed to utilize them both. One truck could seat five and the other could seat three; there were six of you left and you each knew you couldn’t leave someone behind by themselves.

“Race ya!” Kamala yelled. Nat, Wanda, Kate, and Kamala began to run to the five seater truck, while you and Yelena stayed behind. I guess you both assumed that it wasn’t worth fighting over.

You were hesitant to say anything at first but you were curious. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

Yelena shrugged. “My sister and Wanda can get gross when they’re together so I would rather be 100 feet away. But I hope you know I’m driving.”

You nodded in agreement, not wanting to go against her wishes. How could you say no?

You and Yelena put your belongings in the trunk of the car and shut it nice and tight so there was no way it could fly out and escape. Yelena climbed in the driver's seat while you sat next to her in the passenger's seat. The truck started with a sputter and music started blasting through the radio. Tony Keith’s voice rang out, causing you to plug your eyes.

“If this is what the trip has in store,” you gestured to the nature outside and then to the radio, “it’s going to be a long trip.”

“I think my ears are bleeding,” Yelena groaned.

“How about I do this.” You made the executive decision to turn the music completely off. “Better?”

“Much.” Yelena was satisfied with your choice. She followed the kicked up dust trail that led to the truck in front of them. They were farther ahead but you both hoped you hadn’t lost them.

In the meantime, you decided to look around the truck to see what all treasures were held inside. Just by looking at it, it didn’t seem to be anything special. The dash was covered in dirt and dust and old, empty bullet shells rested on top. There were no cup holders for drinks, only a bench seat that could fit another person. You found yourself wondering what would happen if you scooted just a bit closer. You brushed off the thought and continued your scavenger hunt.

There was no backseat, only a small gap that could fit a slender bag. There was a tacklebox that slipped under your seat, so you decided to dig through it. You gasped as you opened it to reveal a pistol made out of vibranium. You could spot it from anywhere.

“Woah!” you admired it. You shifted the small pistol in your hand, observing the craftsmanship.

“Oh shit,” Yelena said. Her eyebrows were raised, telling you she was just as impressed.

“They really did the most.” You took another look at it before you put it back where it belonged and slid it back under the seat. “What we’re to happen if we were stopped somehow and we had that in the car? Wouldn’t they do the math?”

“Look at this thing,” Yelena said plainly.

You looked around at the crusted steering wheel, the patchy seats, and the dirty covered floor. “I suppose you’re right.”

Yelena sighed and continued driving.

You watched the world go by as the clay mesa crowded your vision. It was beautiful in its own way and it was nothing like you had ever seen. The plateau of rock and the arches that presented themselves high off the ground. You may even learn to love it.

You then turned your attention to the driver. Yelena did not go anywhere in public without dressing her best. She was wearing wide cut jeans, a cropped shirt, and high leather boots. The dedication impressed you, especially in this weather. Your eyes wandered from her clothes to her skin and how her olive tone was tanned from the sun. Her eyes twinkled with the reflection of the endless blue sky and you found yourself drowning. Of course until Yelena looked over at you because you had been in a daze for too long.

You turned your attention back out the window with the hope that she wasn’t paying attention to your admiration. The more you stared out the window, the heavier your eyelids were. Eventually, you found yourself drifting to sleep once again with dreams of twinkling green eyes.

.

.

.

You felt a push on your left shoulder but you didn’t move.

There was another push this time, but much harder, causing you to sit all the way up. To your surprise, it was night. You rubbed your eyes and looked to your left to find that Yelena was staring at you.

“Did you know that you snore?” she said outright. Yelena unbuckled and got out of the truck, leaving you stunned all alone.You decided that it would be better not to respond because you wish you could forget it ever happened.

As you slid out of the truck, you looked up at the stars. You had never seen the sky so clear in your life. It was like lightning bugs had hung themselves way up high for everyone to see. You were so distracted by the sky that you didn’t notice where you were.

When you snapped yourself out of your trance you looked around. You were now surrounded by some species of pine tree you couldn’t recall with scarce grass. You were most certainly still in the desert but had traveled farther in the new direction.

In addition, you seemed to be up on a cliff. You looked around once more and there was no sign of a house, let alone anyone else.

“Uh, Yelena,” you questioned. “Where are we?”

Yelena was crouched down ahead of you looking down from the earth when she shushed you. You tried not to take too much offense. You walked to where she was in hopes of figuring out what was going on.

“Yelena, I said, where are-” Yelena covered your mouth quickly. You wanted to resist but all you could do was yell silently into the palm of her hand.

“Be quiet,” Yelena whispered, then held up a finger to her lips as she uncovered her hand from your mouth.

You huffed. “I just want to know what we’re doing out here? Where is everyone?”

“I took a little detour,” she admitted. “I just wanted to scope out the competition and Tony had already wired the GPS with significant locations so I knew where to go.”

“He should’ve known better,” you shook your head. You were already in this mess with her so you might as well finish it.

You focused your eyes to where she was looking to find a small sized building. It was nothing like you pictured it would be in your head. There was a flagpole outside the fence gates with an American flag on it accompanied by another flag that you could not make out. You squinted harder to see what picture was made out on the fabric.

“Is that…” You could spot the unique design of a skull with its six arms recoiled under.

It was Hydra.

//

i hope you enjoyed!

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[storiesofsvu]

One ask wasn't enough! So, how about these prompts, with Cabot?

"I can't sleep, can I stay here?" and

"Don't... I'm ticklish!"

Thank youuuu 🥰🥰

Thank YOU so much!! Here ya go!

Insomnia Strikes

Alex Cabot x reader (more implied than anything else lol) Warnings: mentions of anxiety/insomnia, I think that's about it. Just a nice little comfort one shot.

Being the natural night owl that you were, you never had any problems swapping shifts around when someone on the squad got roped into an overnight shift. You honestly didn’t mind it, you basically chilled alone, ate snacks, scrolled through your phone and answered a handful of phone calls that the desk clerk downstairs didn’t catch. It was a very rare occasion where something actually made its way to you prior to six in the morning and by then you were usually only on intake, passing it off to the day team before heading home. It was a nice little break from the chaos that the squad room and a courtroom normally were.

You spent the first few hours catching up on paperwork, finishing all the nearly late files, scrawling your signature across them before popping them into Cragen’s inbox. The squad slowly disappearing as late evening hit until only Olivia remained and you tossed a crumpled up piece of paper onto her desk, telling her to get out of there. You knew she liked to stick around as late as she could, not wanting anyone to really be trapped all alone in the building and she was quick to ask if you’d eaten dinner yet. You laughed, saying you had your breakfast before you came in and that she better get home to get some sleep. If she complained of being tired when you finally did have to call her in, you’d hold it against her. That finally got her going, giving you a warm smile as she wished you goodnight and finally left the precinct.

Once office lights began to flick off and the downstairs desk attendant clocked in things fell into a state of stillness, quiet and calm seeping through the air. Your paperwork was actually done, the most recent case you’d been working on waiting on the jury and you appeared to be free from actual work. So you started on the more mundane tasks, things that didn’t get done until you were on night shift. You started out by cleaning your desk, tossing out old receipts, crumpled up pastry bags, pencils that were so slivered down they couldn’t be used. Grabbing the collection of coffee mugs from the bull pen you headed into the break room, loading up the sink with hot soapy water to take care of the dishes in there. The cleaning crew usually came through around midnight, so you tackled the fridge, throwing out anything and everything that wasn’t labelled, had been in there for too long or seemed to be growing its own ecosystem.

After a very thorough hand wash, you wandered back to your desk, phone in your hand as you ordered some food for dinner, though maybe it was technically your lunch. Having no messages, calls or emails waiting, you pulled out your I-pad, sitting it on your desk as you settled back into your chair, pulling up your most recent binge. You were starting to get a little antsy twenty minutes in, your foot tapping against the floor over and over again. If it were day shift you’d usually caught a case or had to trek over to the DA’s office by now, but you were still just sitting there wishing you had an easier way to get your steps in. Your prayers were partially answered when the desk sergeant called up saying your food was there and you got to jog down the stairs to pay the driver before wandering back up them to your desk.

You ate a couple of slices, snagged a soda from the machine and set the box off to the side as you turned your attention back to the screen in front of you. The cleaning crew came and went, efficiently working through the space in no time, waving a friendly hello and then goodbye to you once they were finished. It wasn’t much later after that when you heard the shuffling of feet coming from the hallway and you glanced up, half expecting the desk clerk to be coming to take advantage of the vending machines. Your head tilted when instead you spotted Alex, loose leggings and a fuzzy sweater wrapped around her frame, hair messily tied back.

“Lex?” You greeted and her head lifted up, a small smile on her cheeks when she saw you. “What’re you doing here? Please don’t tell me you’re gonna have to go wake up a judge.”

“No.” She replied with a small huff, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple before pulling over a spare chair and dropping into it. “Tried your apartment first, neighbour said they saw you leaving for work late so I figured you were stuck on night shift.”

“And you thought I needed a babysitter?” You asked with a tease and she shook her head at you.

“Long day. I just wanted to make sure I got to see you at some point.” She yawned, her hands sneaking under her glasses to rub furiously at her eyes.

“You could’ve just called.”

She glanced up at you, a nervous look in her eyes as she chewed on her lip for a minute before letting out a breath, “I can’t sleep. Can I just stay here?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, reaching out to squeeze at her knee, “course you can. Did you at least try to sleep? Or were you still up on the couch pouring over case files?”

“I did.” She revealed with a sigh, “stared at the ceiling tossing and turning for almost four hours before I gave up. My brain just won’t shut up.”

“Did you take your meds?” You asked and she glanced up at you with a sheepish look on her face, softly shaking her head.

“I ran out on Monday; didn’t realize I was so low and I couldn’t get an appointment for a refill until next Tuesday. I took the anxiety one at eight and doctor’s orders say I can’t take melatonin with it, so I’m just kinda out of luck.”

“Shit.” You frowned, squeezing at her leg again, “next time we’ll make sure you always have an immediate refill on hand.”

“Thanks.” Her hand caught yours, squeezing it softly as she smiled across at you.

“You eat?”

“Wasn’t really hungry.” She shrugged, “had a granola bar.”

“How about you dig into this,” you tugged the pizza box from the other side of the desk, flipping it open in front of her and when the smell wafted over to she felt her stomach begin to grumble. “I’ll see what they have for tea in the break room.”

Leaving a kiss on the top of her head you left her to it, commenting for her to change the Netflix to whatever she wanted while you were gone. Digging through the break room you were pleasantly surprised to find a box of chamomile tea, turning on the kettle and brewing a mug exactly the way Alex liked it. When you crossed back into the bull pen she was curled up in the spare chair, your NYPD hoodie you normally stashed in the lower drawer of your desk draped over her lap as her hands played with the fraying cuffs.

A warm smile overtook your features as you placed the mug down in front of her, kissing her cheek again before reminding her to eat. With a tired sigh she finally leant forward, taking a slice of pizza, a pleased groan leaving her when she found it still warm.

She’d chosen one of your mutual favourite comfort movies, a classic rom com with no drama or terribly corny jokes set in the city you’d made your home. She ate her slice and sipped at her tea while she watched, relaxing into your side as she did so. You had to answer a couple of texts over the course of the hour but otherwise you were pleasantly occupied and comfortable. There were about five minutes left in the movie when she was fully slumped on your shoulder, you could feel her steady breathing and were certain her eyes had finally closed even if she wasn’t asleep yet. Your fingers poked gently at her side and she grumbled, flinching away from your touch without moving her head off your shoulder.

“Don’t. I’m ticklish.”

“Sorry.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “lets get you to the crib, you can get some actual sleep.”

“Come with me?” She finally looked up at you with sapphire puppy dog eyes and a pout on her lips. You smiled softly, letting out a breath of a laugh.

“Okay, but only ‘til you fall asleep. I am on duty after all.”

“Fine.” She scowled, yawning, her eyes still drooping as she reluctantly stood from the chair, your hoodie still curled in her arms.

Alex shuffled away to the bunk room, letting herself in and leading you to the bunk burrowed in the corner. You grabbed a couple of extra pillows and blankets, making sure she was more than comfortable, tucked in and relaxed as she curled up on her side face you. Perched on the edge of the bed you smoothed back her hair, tucking it behind her ear as her eyes fell shut again, letting out a content sigh.

“Thank you.” She murmured; her voice muffled by the pillow.

“Anytime baby.” You whispered back, fingers trailing across her cheek before you kissed her forehead.

By the time you’d sat upright she was out like a light, soft snores echoing through the small room and a small smile crept onto your lips. Pulling out your phone you quickly set an alarm so she would have enough time to get home and get dressed properly for the day before having to return to the DA’s office and quietly made your way from the room. You knew it wasn’t much, but it really was the little things, knowing that whenever Alex was fighting a bout of insomnia she found solace and relief in you, that no matter where you were, she would eventually be lulled into comfort and thus sleep as long as you were around.

________________________

@mickey-gomez @cabotfan42 @detective-giggles @red1culous @beccabarba @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @svulife-rl rl @svushots @mspetey @wannabe-fic-reader @lawandorderimagines @gaylorrds @mysticfalls01 @littlegaybabe @bumblebear30 @wosoimagines @solemnnova @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @lawandorderuswnt @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @narvaldetierra @momlifebehard @poisonedcrowns @a-little-bit-of-this-and-that @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @7thavenger @disneyfan624 @msvenablesbitch @happenstnces @onmykneesformarvel @desperate-gay @riveramorylunar @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @noahrex @temp0rary-bliss @wittygutsy @chimnlex @maximoffcarter @sapphicqueenofdonuts @ralla-ralla @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts

[auspicioustidings]

141 fighting each other to be the one whose lap reader sits on during a meeting or smth

CONGRATS ON 1kkkk

Thanks <3 Please find silly nonsense below!

Tomfoolery Senses

Words: 1k

CWs: Slightly spicy but nothing explicit

Honestly you shouldn’t even be on base, not with your knee being how it was. It was annoying as hell that the recovery time meant you were out of the field for the foreseeable, but they still needed you. You may not be able to run around with a gun right now, but tactical was always your strong point anyway so for now you attended meetings and made plans.

You walked into one such meeting and your tomfoolery senses immediately went off. There were too many glinting eyes for them not to have pulled something, and when you went to sit down you nearly laughed out loud at the bloody audacity. No empty seats. Strange since there should be some, almost as if someone had relocated them beforehand specifically for some ridiculous purpose.

“Ye can sit here bonnie!”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up. Soap was very much patting his lap in excitement. The last time you had ended up in that man's lap his hand had wandered during the entire meeting. You recalled being a mess by the end of it and Soap being very much like the cat who got the cream about it because he knew it meant when he followed to your room like a puppy you would let him in.

“Move your arse MacTavish, I’m injured and I need the seat.”

“Wouldnae dream of it! As ye’ll recall, I also have a dodgy knee. Only right for us tae stick together.”

“Surely you’re not asking them to sit on your dodgy knee then Johnny? Come on sweetheart, right here.”

You gave Ghost a bemused look. Soap you expected this from, but him? Actually no, you had very much been overwatch for 141 missions, this is exactly the kind of nonsense you expected of this idiot.

“Now I would love to, but weren’t you just telling me about your bad back? I seem to remember something about needing me to massage it. It would be irresponsible of me to risk making it worse.”

“Your massage fixed it right up actually" he replied, large hand patting thick thigh in further invitation.

You rolled your eyes. Your “massage” had lasted about a minute with you sincerely giving it your best effort before he had pinned you down and given you a very thorough massaging of his own. Only that one had done the opposite of fixing your back, if anything you'd say he had in fact blown it out.

“That so? You were complaining about it right before they walked in” Gaz said, smug as anything even while Ghost glared over at him.

“He's a lying git luv, obviously just looking to get a gorgeous thing in his lap. My lap, however, is neutral.”

You knew for a fact his lap was not neutral, not one bit. His lap was very much the kind of lap that you found yourself bouncing on anytime he got you alone and charmed you right into it. You could be in the middle of a training exercise, fully in the zone, and next thing you knew you were stuffed full of Kyle bloody Garrick in the middle of a safehouse where anyone could wander in at any moment. It wasn't like you were a big risk taker, but he could make you think anything was a good idea.

“A veritable Switzerland I'm sure.”

“Safest place to be really.”

“Look me in the eye and say that with a straight face then.”

Soap and Ghost groaned in tandem as you made the mistake of looking at Gaz. That bloody sunshine smile could sell ice in the Arctic and as such everyone usually avoided eye contact when they knew he wanted something. Charisma score above 20 that boy. Honestly these fuckers were the worst, but oh Gaz's big brown eyes were just smiling so gently at you and surely he would never do anything untoward. How could you look at this man and think he would ever manipulate you?

“Corporal, come ‘ere, that's an order.”

Gaz's sunshine expression turned to one of wry disbelief. He had been so close, you had been about to take a step towards him. It was awfully unsportsmanlike for Price to pull rank, something Gaz would be holding against him.

“So much for honour.”

“Cheeky fucker.”

“Just taking the piss Captain.”

It wasn't completely unfounded for Price to use his rank to get what he wanted when it came to you, it was why usually the others would try to get you away from him. Ghost did it sometimes too if he wasn't there and the Sergeants were. Although he didn't use it quite as thoroughly as Price did once he got you alone. The Captain was always happy to give you orders if only so he could punish you when you bit back, which you did often. Not because you enjoyed the punishment, that certainly wasn't it. You could not supply another reason, but that was besides the point.

“Well I suppose I have to since you're the Captain, unless there was someone that technically had more authority to give me orders” you said with a grin.

“Come on now pet, don't be like that, just come sit and we can start the meeting hm?” he said, using that voice that was right in the middle of soothing dominance and rough command in a last ditch effort.

“Of course Captain, just want to clear it with command first.”

Price sighed, glancing over and seeing that he had lost the fight when he was met with Kate's sly little smile. She was often your saviour when it came to these men. It helped that her and her lovely wife were both sweet on you. They had invited you round for dinner once or twice, and suffice to say the very delicious home cooked meals were not the only thing getting eaten. If there was one thing the men in the 141 hated more than losing to one another, it was losing to Laswell. She was always so annoyingly smug about being your favourite.

As you settled right down in her lap and both the meeting and Kate's hands gently massaging at your waist started, the 141 collectively thought that next time they'd better bring you a damn chair.

[jawritter]

Dean’s Birthday Surprise

Summary: Y/N get’s Dean a kinky surprise for his 44th Birthday!

Warnings: 18 + Only!! HERE THERE BE SMUT!!!! NO ONE UNDER 18 SHOULD READ THIS FIC!!!  Crotchless panties, girl on top, fingering, language, nudity. P & V smut. 

Written For: @spnkinkevents

Prompt: Crotchless Panties

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2k 

A/N: A little something I through together for our best boy’s birthday! This fic is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Dean’s POV:

Dean felt old, and he hated every minute of it. 

Honestly, he never expected to live to see 44 years of age. He figured he was gonna die bloody as a young man. When he was 43 he came damn close to it.

Still, here he stands. Alive, well, and more than a little depressed. 

He couldn't understand it really, how he got old. One minute he was a young man, hunting, and had the ladies eating out of the palm of his hand. Next, he was being told her had "dad bod", whatever the fuck that was. 

Logically, Dean knew he wasn't old, he just didn't expect to live this long. He didn't know what to do with his life from here. Sure, he had Y\N, but how long could he expect that to last really? She was young, beautiful, smart, hell, he was surprised every day he woke up and she was still laying with her head on his chest. Fuck if he'd ever understand why she loved him, but she said she did.

"Happy birthday handsome," her voice sounded from behind him as her arms wrapped around his middle, and her head rested on his back. Good he didn't deserve her. She was far too perfect for him. Still, he was selfish, and he loved her, so he did everything he could to make her stay.

"Thanks," he managed to croak out after clearing his throat. He stopped the sponge in his hand into the soap filled bucket at his feet so that he could rest his hand on top of hers.

"You gonna take her for a spin now that you got her all clean?" She questioned, sliding herself around to stand in front of him moving her hands to rest on his shoulders. 

Dean hummed before pressing his lips to her own in a brief kiss. To brief for his liking, normally he was much more thorough. He was just so trapped in his head. Maybe a drive would do him some good. Being alone in Baby always helped clear his head. 

"Yeah, I think I will…"

"Good," she quipped quickly. "Cause when you get home I got a surprise for my favorite birthday boy." 

"Aw baby," Dean said with an exhausted sigh. " I told you that you didn't have to make a fuss over me."

"No argument Mr.! "She fussed, shoving his shoulders playfully and earning a genuine smirk from him. "Now, you go take a ride, clear your head so you can get out of whatever headspace you're trapped in there, and we're gonna have some time alone with the bunker all to ourselves."

Dean sighed heavily before leaning forward to peck her lips again. 

"Where's Sammy gonna be?" Dean questioned, turning to stare at his girl, who was leaning against her bright red, classic Mustang. Admiring him like he was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen. God he really, really didn't deserve her.  

"He and Eileen have a date tonight, and he said he's already planning to stay there at her house," Y/N answered. "Now GO! I got to get ready for your present."

"Fine, fine," Dean waved her off and opened the car door, shaking his head in disbelief at this woman and how she could possibly love him. 

Y/N POV:

Three hours later, Y/N found herself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup with nothing on but a short, black silk robe, and a pair of lace, crotchless panties. 

Normally, Dean wasn't much for theatrics. 'They're just gonna end up on the floor anyway', he says, but Y/N knew that he enjoyed these kinda things more than he wanted to admit. He just didn't want her to feel like she HAD to do this kinda thing for him. Like he didn't deserve the extra attention. Y/N disagree, honestly she wished he'd let her do more. She would just have to settle for birthdays and special occasions, today just happened to be Dean's birthday. 

Besides, when he saw her in this, she was pretty sure that he wasn’t gonna have enough blood left in his brain to argue about it with her anyway. 

She quickly brushed her hand through her hair to give herself some volume, and smiled victorious at the image of the woman she’d created staring back at her. She was quite proud of this look if she did say so herself. 

As if on cue, Y/N heard the distinct sound of the bunker garage door closing, and she knew she had just a few minutes before Dean came wandering into their shared room. He was very much a creature of habit, or else this surprise would have been a lot harder to pull off. 

Still, knowing Dean the way she did, she hurried to position herself on the bed, first trying laying in her side, but that didn’t really work for, then she tried laying her back, but that really didn’t do it, so she tried a fail safe, something she knew Dean enjoyed, even if he didn’t want to admit that he enjoyed it, and that was her on her knees, in the middle of the bed, waiting for him like the good girl he loved so much. 

She had no more loosened the ties on her kaminio, revealing the perfect swells of her supple breast, than the bedroom door cracked open, and Dean stepped in, still looking at his phone. 

“Hey baby, I’m hungry, I’m think about ordering a piz—”

Dean’s words died somewhere in his throat when he looked up to find Y/N kneeling in the center of the bed, legs spread just enough to not reveal too much, but enough to be inviting, and nothing but a thin, black slick gathering of fabric covering his prize. His phone slipped from his fingers, and landed on the floor along with his jaw, and she couldn’t help but smirk in victory. 

“Happy birthday De,” she voiced as he started to robotically kick off his shoes, as well as shed his jacket, attempting to shed all of the layers he had on as fast as he possibly could. “Why don’t you come on over here and open up your present?”

She didn’t have to tell him twice, as he ripped his shirt off his head, leaving a cute, hedgehog hairstyle behind. He was already working his belt and jeans loose before he started to move towards the bed, hungry green eyes taking in all that they could devour.

“Goddamit baby girl, you’re gonna give a man a heart attack,” Dean mumbled as he climbed onto the bed knees first. His hands already reached for her hips to pull her as flush to him as she could before their lips collided with one another in a deep, need filled kiss.

“So I take it that you like it then,” she questioned as she pulled away from him, leaving him chasing her kiss with the most adorable disgruntled face. Almost as if he was confused and offended at her for taking her lips away from his too soon. 

“Fuck yeah I do,” he said, his thick, capable fingers already pulling the thin black tigh loose, causing her covering to fall apart, and reveal his real resent underneath.

“Are those crotchless,” his graveled voice trimmed down from his perfect, pink, kiss swollen lips in almost a whisper. 

Y/N shrugged, smirking. “Well Dean, you said that these kinda things are pointless because they always ended up on the floor anyway, so I decided I’d save you the trouble and just get a pair of easy access ones that can stay on.”

As she spoke, Dean’s mouth attacked her throat, laying the pair of them back onto the bed behind her carefully. His cock already hard and straining against his black boxers, begging to be released, so she obliged, and slid them down his hips so that he could kick them off, leaving himself bare before her. 

“How did I get so damn lucky?” Dean questioned just as his perfect mouth sealed over her already erect nipple from the cool temperature of the room contrasting with the fire that Dean was already stoking inside of her. His fingers slipped between her folds, teasing her already sensitive clit as he worked her over, making it harder and harder for her to concentrate. “So fucking beautiful Y/N.”

“Pretty sure I’m the lucky one De,” she managed to say between desperate pants as Dean moved over to the other breast, determined to not leave anyone out, and slipped his thick fingers into her slick heat with ease, curing them in all the right places as he slowly pumped them in and out of her dripping cunt, causing the cord in her stomach to wind tighter and tighter until she was cumming undone underneath him, screaming his name like a prayer. 

“So fucking beautiful Y/N/N,” he repeated as he kissed his way back up to her face, leaving as many little wet, opened mouthed kisses as he could muster as he did while she slowly decended from the high he’d driven her too. 

“Your turn handsome, it is your birthday after all,” she tried to sit up, but he stopped her, his wide palm resting softly against her shoulder to hold her back down as he pumped his pink, fully erect, leaking cock in his hand. 

“No, no princess, it’s my present, and I”ll play with it however I want too, and baby I wanna watch,” he growled  as he carefully slid his swollen length through her slick, gathering as much of her juices as he could before sliding into welcoming center, moaning audibly as he watched her body close in around him, covered in black lace. 

He pumped slowly there, watching his body disappear into her own, mesmerized by sight that lay underneath him, and she shivered as each slow drag of his manhood through her quivering cunt drover her too damn near insanity, stretching her and filling her, but never quite giving her what she needed.

Without warning, Dean flipped the pair of them over, settling her on top of him so that he could watch her more easily, totally and completely captivated, like a man starved, or a blind man seeing for the first time. She would never understand why he always looked at her like that. Not when she felt like the lucky one. 

Dean was a man of few words, but he didn’t have to say anything as she slowly rose and lowered herself on his dick, causing him to toss his head back and his eyes to roll momentarily as his hips rose and feel to meet her pace until neither of them could take it anymore and she began to ride him in earnest. Leaving the room filled with sounds of heavy breath and skin against skin. 

Dean’s thick fingers sank deep into her thighs as he rolled his hips up to meet her, he was so close, she could see it in the way he strained to hold on as long as he could, drag it out as long as possible, until his body was shaking underneath her own, and his dick twitched heavily as he came deep inside of her, triggering her own release as well. 

“Sammy’s gone all night you said?” Dean panted as helped her off of his softening cock to lay down on his heaving chest, 

“Yep, all night,” she chuckled. 

“Good,” he replied, “cause in fifteen minutes we’re going again.”

Forever:

@wittysunflower

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

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[multifan2022]

Used to be yours #2

I just want to thank anyone who has stuck around to read this.. I posted PART 1 on January 18th!! So with my deepest apologize i give you part 2 164 days later .. I hope you all love it. 

That night after a few hours that honestly felt too short spent with Mav and Henley, you had been trying to get ready to go to the club Phoenix was insisting on going to. Key word was try, because you didn't make it further than your panties before your husband was palming your breasts and pushing them back down. Did you understand? Yes. Did you put up any type of argument? State how you would be late? No.. Absolutely not. Because if there was anything you knew, it was Bradley was just as thorough in the bedroom as he was in the sky. And it had been months since you had been in front of each other, and there was really no better way to celebrate your alone time. 

You're already thinking about how Nix is going to make comments about the beard burn on your neck and chest as Bradley continues to kiss his way down your stomach. His teeth sinking into the extra meat of your thigh as he looked up at you. When his tongue ran up your slit you both moaned together. Bradley was the only man you had ever met that would admit that he absolutely loved eating his woman out. Not that you had been with anyone besides him and Hangman. But you had overheard conversations he had with guys on random deployments while on facetime or calls. Or listened to him recount a story here or there. He was 100% down to tell people his second favorite place in the world was between your thighs. 

It was everything from the way you tasted and sounded, to the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your legs as he held them apart. Honestly it was the same for you, the feeling of said fingers digging into you was great. The way his beautiful hair felt fisted in your hand, wonderful. How his moans as you gasp, clench or pull his hair, would vibrate through you, perfect. You swore there was no one luckier on the planet than you. So now as he went to town feasting on you like a man dying of thirst, you scolded yourself for speaking. 

“The beard is new.. Not really Navy regulation.” 

Bradley chuckled and pulled his mouth away just a little, replacing his tongue with his finger as he looked up at you. He could see that you were questioning yourself as to why you said that. “Do you really wanna talk about Navy regulations right now Babe?” You shook your head, laughing lightly “Your right.” It caught both you and Bradley off guard when your hand wrapped into his hair and you all but shoved his face back into your pussy. The filthy moan he let out, the way his fingers dug into your thighs as you held his face where you needed him sent your confidence skyrocketing.  Riding his face until you were ready to let go, before riding his cock too. 

~~

That's how you ended up at the club a good hour after Nix and what was, unfortunately, shaping up to be the others of the dagger squad. Natasha and her girlfriend Steph can't stop raving over how good the lace body con tank top and black jeans you decided to wear look on you. For now you had a silky black shirt over it, but the club was warm and you were already starting to get hot.  Normally you would be gushing back about whatever they have on, or saying thank you an embarrassing amount of times. Because no amount of love from Rooster can make up for spending years being told you would never be good enough. Normally you also wouldn't be absolutely brain dead and drooling over your husband. Because honestly what gave this man the right to look so fucking hot?

His hair was still slightly wet from his shower, showing off exactly how curly it truly is as it hung just right. His beard really shouldn't have looked as good as you thought it did, and sure some would disagree but they are wrong. His shirt was unbuttoned just far enough to be obscenely hot, showing off his chest hair and two necklaces. Both plain chains but one was his fathers and one had been gifted to him by Henley. The offensive shirt was white, black and pink with gray designs in the white boxes. The shit litterally hung off him in a way that screams fuck me. He was completely oblivious to every woman that stared at him as he made his way back towards you from the bar. 

He noticed the way your eyes tracked over him as Nat shook her head smiling and said something about being on the dance floor. In his hands he had two shots each, one hand held his favorite shots. He handed you one of the kamikaze shots and sat the other two down. Shooting those back you stuck your tongue out at him. You preferred sweeter drinks but never complained for real, it was all in fun. “I know, I know.. I got us these to wash those down with. They are vodka jolly rancher shots, got you a blue raspberry.” He said as he smiled at you, taking those shots back to before he grabbed your hand and followed Nat and Steph. 

~~

An hour later when Jake and Javy were walking in you didn't notice. “Love tonight” The David Guetta party remix was blaring and you were jumping and dancing with the girls. Bradley hadn't even noticed until they settled at the bar next to him. Javy clapped him on the back in greeting as the bartender started their tabs and took more drink orders. “I didn't think you would be here! Figured you would be too busy with your lady.” Jake said, turning to look at Rooster who clenched his jaw and nodded. “I took care of things before and will do so again later I'm sure.. Not like she's going anywhere, we bought a house on base so her and our daughter are staying.” 

Again Jake and Javy shared a look, “Man you got a wife AND a daughter. How did none of us know?” Bradley shrugged apologetically at Javy as the bartender sat a beer and a frozen strawberry margarita in front of him. “It's gonna cause some tension.. So I kept it to myself, and wasn't expecting to stay, ya know.. But I better get this back to her so she can drink it while it's frozen..” Bradley was thankful to have an exit, he really didn't want to be away from you when you realized Jake was here. He didn't care that he left the two men confused and watching after him. “Why is it gonna cause problems?” Javy said almost not realizing it was out loud until Jake shrugged. But as Rooster made it back to his table, and the ladies made it back, it all clicked for Jake. 

“What the fuck..” He said as he watched a familiar y/h/c woman slide up next to Rooster, sitting down in his lap with an ease that screamed comfort. He watched the way your head tilted down just a little to listen as Bradley whispered in your ear. He could see the way you tensed from across the club. The way you went to move your head but Bradleys big hands grabbed your chin and shook his head while smiling. The way you leaned in and pressed your lips to his before keeping your back to Jake and sipping on your drink. Javy looked between his best friend who was about to shatter the glass his old fashioned was in, and the couple in question. Before he could ask, Jake answered “Thats Y/n..” 

Javys jaw almost hit the bartop, “Like Y/n, Y/N? Long lost love Y/n? The one who got away Y/n? Y/n..” Jake held his hand up quickly cutting off whatever long tangent Javy was about to go on. Nodding he watched as Roosters hand explored your body from your perch on his lap. He knew he shouldn't but he found his body walking towards the table you guys were sitting at. When he slid into the seat and put an arm behind Phoenix she scoffed and looked at Rooster with that look on her face that says she's shocked by his audacity. 

Jake's eyes were on your face as you watched Bradley, who watched Jake. “So Rooster.. Gonna introduce us to your… Wife..” The word felt like it stuck in his throat as his eyes trailed down your neck and over what he could see of your body. You could feel his eyes on you, and honestly it made you want to hit him. Turning you leaned slightly over the table to shake Javys hand and introduce yourself. That's when the questions started, Javy knew who you were to Jake, now he wanted to know how that rolled over to Bradley. “Where did you guys meet? How long have you been together? How old is your daughter? When can I meet her, can I be Uncle Yote?” 

Everyone chuckled slightly at his enthusiasm. As an only child to a single mother, he loved anytime his family expanded even a little. Your fingers twirled Bradleys hair a bit as you answered, you knew you were probably going to hurt someone's feelings. Unfortunately for that person, you didn't really care. “Bradley and I met at his tap out ceremony. I was there to see someone else, but instead met the love of my life.” Jake watched, a sick feeling in his stomach as Bradley smiled softly at you and kissed your jaw. “Our daughter, Henley is nine and sure? I kinda figure eventually MOST of you will be like an aunt or uncle to her. Tasha is already Auntie Nix so it wont be that big of a deal.” Jake did the math quickly, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink before speaking. “Damn Bradshaw, Ive always joked about you staying on your perch, guess you jumped off pretty quick for this one..” 

Your head snapped to the side to glare at him in a way that made him want to sink into his seat. “What the hell does that mean, Hangman.” The way you sneered at his call sign made his skin crawl, he didn't figure you would be happy to see him, but he was starting to get the feeling that maybe you hated him. His brain racked as he tried to recall when the last time you spoke was. And when he did, he opened his mouth and proceeded to continue digging his hole deeper. “Sweets, listen.. Had I known Bradshaw was your baby daddy, I wouldn't have said what I said.. It was immature, I'm sorry.” 

He missed the way Bradleys hand tightened around his beer at the pet name. His eyes only on yours, when you were younger all he had to ever do was apologize and bat his eyes at you and bam. Forgiven. 

Now though, you looked like you could skin him and use him as a rug. 

The chuckle that came from you was not filled with mirth, it was filled with disdain and hatred as you tried to calm yourself. Your hand in Bradley's hair, and his on your back were the only things keeping you grounded at the moment. When you looked back at Jake there was a coldness in your eyes that he had never seen before. Your tone was frosty as you spoke, “Bradley is her father, but unfortunately biologically she shares DNA with someone else.. And that person.. Well let's just say he isn't worth wasting my breath over.. He left me out to dry.. He is dead to me.” 

The others at the table were shocked, well besides Nat who was thrilled that you were finally getting to say your piece. She had spent many nights, mostly tipsy ones, encouraging this with the hopes that she would get to witness it one day. When the music changed and you stood she stood as well, pulling her girl with you both as you announced you were going to go dance. Bradley was smirking down at the table as he moved your empty glass to the side and pushed the condensation around on the table. Javy felt like he was missing huge pieces of information, Jake did too. 

Jake was doing everything he could to not demand more answers. He wanted to know everything that went wrong, every side step he should've taken. Every argument he should have walked away from, even the ones he should've pushed harder on. He wanted to ask which part of his behavior had pushed you so far away. Jake Hangman Seresin wanted to know everything he needed to not do again if there was ever a possible chance you would be with him again. 

Meanwhile Bradley was loving how torn down the blond looked. Not that he was happy someone else was hurting, just happy that he knew you were getting what you needed. This would help make you happier. This was part of what you needed to heal from Jake and be able to completely move on. But even with all that happiness stirring around in him, old habits die hard. With that in mind he couldn't help but make small jabs at the man. So he leaned back and spread his arms and legs while allowing his head to fall to his shoulder. 

Both Javy and Jake could tell he wanted to say something, but it seemed like he got lost for just a moment. And he did, the moment his eyes found you smiling and dancing with the girls, it was like everything slowed down. Everything in his universe was attached to you in some way. He would never be able to dig deep enough into himself to cut you out completely. The beautiful, thick woman dancing in front of him was his world. The moon, the stars and every galaxy out there. But he forced himself to look away and at one of the few people he actually had real, true negative feelings for. 

“I guess I should thank you Hangman.” He said with a side smirk and slight edge to his voice. He could see the anger and confusion boiling in Jakes eyes as he wondered where he would go with this. Chuckling lightly Bradley continues “Well, had you not been such a selfish prick and ditched her, after begging her to come, at our academy graduation I wouldve never met her… Hell she would probably be married to you. So thank you, for leaving her hangin.” Bradley chuckled once again while tipping his beer bottle towards Jake. 

Javy was shocked, he had never heard this part. Just that you and Jake had fallen out of touch. So to find out in reality, Jake had ditched you and then spent years complaining about how he loved and missed you? He turns to start asking his own questions but stops when he notices his best friends face. Jake has turned red from the neck up, his jaw is clenched to tightly Javy wouldnt be surprised if he cracked a tooth. The bottle in Jakes hand is held so tightly its liable to crack. 

Its taking every ounce of self control that Jake has to not throw himself over the table. He already wanted to rip Bradleys arms off and beat him with them. But now it was worse. Jake wanted to not only beat Bradley until he couldnt move anymore, but he wanted to show Bradley. Show Bradley that maybe.. Just maybe a piece of you had always been waiting for him to come back. That maybe Jake had a fighting chance in a race he didnt even know was happening. 

Just as he went to answer, a redhead came up and practically threw herself in Jakes lap. “Hey there.. If I wear that hat, can I ride you cowboy?”  Jake had never been so turned off in his life. It wasnt the woman in his lap, shes gorgeous and any night before this Jake wouldve spewed off something charming and taken her in the bathroom or maybe in his truck. But he was physically having a hard time not shoving her off his lap. It felt wrong to do in front of you in a way that didnt make sense to him. 

He had no problem parading girls in front of you when he was younger. Girls back home all threw high school, he always took someone different to each dance, both proms. It was never you. He had both you and Jade when he was in the Academy. Jade thought you were just the pathetic girl in town he took pity on.  That you had this silly little high school crush on him, and Jake only entertained it because he pitied you. While none of that came from his mouth, Jake never disagreed. It was an easy way to get away with having his cake and eating it too. 

Especially because you didn't even know Jade existed. 

“SO.. Anyways.. I'm gonna go dance with my wife.. Have a nice night guys.” Bradley practically ran from the table, he was half hard just from listening to you tell Hangman how you felt. There was never any doubt in his head that you would leave him for Jake, but the reassurance was alway nice. The other part was that you never really got worked up like that, so to see you angry was hot. Bradley was suddenly happy that Nix had wanted to come to this club. This club that had ladies dancing on private stages in the corners. This club that had expensive, but semi-private rooms in the back for… Activities. 

Earned it by The Weeknd came on just as he reached you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back into him. It was natural to wrap one arm back and around his neck as the other rested on his arm. “God, that was so hot baby.” His voice was deep and raspy as he ground against you, letting you feel just how hot he thought it was. You just wanted to focus on being back with him, Jake needed to go back to the furthest recesses of your mind where he belonged. So you turned around, wrapping both arms around his neck as the two of you danced with each other. He kept one hand on your hip or lower back at all times, ensuring that you couldn't pull away from him. 

He wanted to feel you as close as he could, until that wasn't enough and he brought his mouth down on yours. It was a filthy and debauched kind of kiss, the kind that others saw and thought “Wow save it for the bedroom” but here, in this kinda sketchy club nobody cared. Well besides the blond standing across the room, it didn't matter that Jake had that girl pressed up against him talking. He didn't even catch her begging him to get a room in the back. If he was honest he couldnt even remember if he asked for her name. He wanted to march over to you and  tell you that he had loved you for as long as he could remember. That he was stupid and young and let you walk away but thought you would always find your way back to each other. 

He wanted to tell you that he didn't care that you had a child, that he would love your daughter like his own. Jake wanted to tell you how he visited your fathers grave every time he went home, paid someone to make sure it stayed clean. That he looked for you, asked people if they knew where you were every single time he went home. He looked everywhere for you.. But now as he watched you bite your bottom lip and start pulling your husband back towards a hallway that he hadn't noticed, he knew it was too late. His mind processed that you were so far gone from him, that he probably wouldn't even be able to salvage a friendship. 

But his heart was unable to hear, “Where's that hallway go?” He asked cutting off the woman in front of him. He didn't even know what she had been talking about, part of him felt bad, but the more prevalent part couldn't care. The redhead turned and giggled, saying she would tell him after they had one more drink. Even though it only took ten minutes for that drink to happen, it was ten minutes too long when she finally answered him. Semi-private rooms she said.. Rooms people used to have sex in a kind of private but still open way. His mind was exploding, he couldn't imagine his best friend, the one who blushed when someone asked to kiss her, having sex where others could see her. But as the redhead whose name he couldn't be bothered to figure out now pulled him back towards the hall, he came to the realization that he probably doesn't know you anymore. 

He didn't pay any attention to the hostess charging his card. Didn't pay any attention to the rules she was reading out loud. He didn't care about the girl that was giggling and hanging on him as they started walking. All he could focus on was looking threw the sheer colored curtains as they passed rooms with couples or groups in varying positions. It wasn't until they walked into a room and the woman shoved him down onto the couch that he found you. 

In the ‘room’ directly across from his. 

~

~

~

~

@maverick-wingman @atarmychick007 @sexualparkour @halo-mystic @themusingofagothicsoul @lumpypoll @cornishkat @boringusername3 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @weasleywinchester @misslildong @jynxmirage @lilyevanswhore @azenpal @itsdesiree86 @wannabewolf   @ultimate-geek14  @iwishtoliveinafantasy @dracofxckingluciusmalfoy  @black-repunzel99 @itsdesiree86 @lilmonstrjedi @xomrsalliej4787xo @princessmiaelicia @child-of-thedevil @notjustsomeblonde @melllinaa @sopheeg @callsign-viper @rainy-day-lady @kingofsantafe01 @pariahsparadise @lillie-g98 @marland56 @i-wear-wet-socks313 @haideehaids @jstarr86 @happypopcornprincess @scenesofobx @roostersgirlfrxend @eighthwvnder @katied06811 @ariacraigggg @wildlyobserving @untoldshortsofthefandoms @maddy3984 @alldaysdreamers @janechihard @variety-fangirl @i-wanna-be-your-muse @lokikeepsstealingmystuff @thesewordsxlibrary @madsmax13 @vemonbby @jholiday @conan2904 @cycbaby @wintersoldierslover @tonkatesuramen @melody-death @marvelcriminalhoe2 @byebyebreezywrites @ajax-petropolus-wife @autumnleaves1991-reads @bookworm-in-disguise @lovesleclercs @weasleywinchester @misslildong @jynxmirage @idkwasistlos @mrsrossshorlynch @jpgliv @lt-spork @theliterarybeldam @fav-fanficssss @rosiahills22 @klford92 @a-girl-with-eternal-clocks @janechihard @suzuworld

[literatureloverx]

HIII>< Good day to you my dearest🤗🤗 Have you eaten? Drink? If not then please do! I know I said It might not be able to interact with you but like the weather is so bad in my country(there's like three storm rn), also some volcanic activities and some freaking illness going around rn😭😭 Whatever spiritual power there is hates my country cause what is this😭😭. Anywayyyy, I lost track again°>° well uh I just got suddenly curious on how, when, where fyodor and his darling got married. Like what was the process of it, the preparation, the people invited and such. I'm imagining it as somewhat very private event and very intimate (It's fyodor obv) Probably not a lot of people invited. It'll obviously be in a cathedral of sort with a priest and such. Ohh now I wonder how it'll work considering different cultures and religions (of darling). Like in my culture you can invite the whole village! Your distance cousin's friend might even be there😆 I'm kinda exaggerating but it does happen. Also the wedding clothes of darling and Fyodor! Ahhh I'm imagining Fyodor rn🥰🥰🥰

Also I'm really really sorry🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ for overwhelming you with my ask! Well that's the end of it! Ig??? I'm going to do my projects now... Thank you for listening to my yapping and being so kind! 🫵❤️❤️❤️Truly you are amazing. I hope you have/gotten a good day🙏

Sincerely —🧛🏻‍♀️🫀Anon

Good day, my love, 🧛🏻‍♀️🫀-anon! ♥️ I’m doing well and hope the same for you. Please take care—it sounds truly concerning. 🥺

Regarding your request, I must admit I never thought about it either, lmao. By the way, you can invite the whole village in my culture too—though I wouldn’t do that! 😭 Close family and friends are all I need. ♥️ I wrote some headcanons, I hope you enjoy reading them!♥️

Also, I’ve come up with pictures for my 🍷💝-anon who needs visualizations.

Fyodor x ideal type fem!darling, marriage, wedding, visualisation, religious themes etc.

Fyodor & his darling’s wedding

The process would be very thorough, with high security measures and many people involved in the preparations.

As Fyodor’s little princess and soon-to-be bride, you won’t experience any discomfort because of it.

There will be plenty of people handling the arrangements for you.

All you need to do is relax, choose your wedding gown, select your jewelry from the exquisite vintage pieces Fyodor orders from around the world, and provide your preferences for the cake flavors and the flowers.

You’ll only need to engage in the preparations that interest you—your fiancé ensures that you’re always comfortable with everything that’s happening.

I don’t see either of you inviting many people due to security measures, and honestly, Fyodor has no one to invite.

So, it will likely be just the two of you, your close family (such as your parents and siblings), and the priest along with the staff who will be serving you.

Since you’re marrying Fyodor, it will naturally be very intimate and private. We can’t expect much glamour or razzamatazz.

The vows would be exchanged in the cathedral, and later you’d move to a medieval-themed setting for the wedding celebration.

There, you’d enjoy a meal and your wedding cake. Perhaps you might even dance to your favorite waltz—who knows?

Considering different cultures and his ideal type, your darling, being introverted and easygoing, would likely embrace Fyodor’s vision of their wedding.

This means there might be no village invitations, which could seem a bit sad, but it’s all part of Fyodor’s unique way of doing things.

~

Those are elegantly feminine. Fyodor would certainly admire the lace, as it’s traditionally seen as a symbol of femininity—something he would appreciate for its delicate beauty and timeless charm.

Those gowns are fine, but they show the maximum amount of flesh permissible for a cathedral setting, especially when marrying a traditional, possessive man like Fyodor.

You’d definitely need a veil if you choose to wear such a wedding gown.

Fyodor could wear just about anything, but here are some classic groom outfits. I can definitely see him opting for the white one, as most of his clothing is white and he associates himself with the color.

However, the darker outfit could also suit him, especially considering the official picture of him in a fancy dark-colored tuxedo.

Cathedral of Christ the Saviour in Moscow

[cattonicdragon]

Could we have a tooth fairy Easter bunny Jack frost and platonic north and sandy with a reader that represents Halloween(reader looks like a mix between a crow and scarecrow) that's scared that there holiday is on the decline and has become a little depressed because of it. Thank and love your stuff ::::)

Guardians《seperate》 x Halloween guardian reader who's holiday is being forgotten

Guys in back,again(probally gonna disappear again lol)

In fr trying to catch up this time.

Anyways I ty for the request!:3

Angst,fluff,hurt with comfort,readers sad :(

has not been proofread, A/N at the end

Tooth fairy

Its early October,you know what that means, its Halloween time

The time where the vail between the spiritual world and the living is the thinnest

You and tooth usually celebrate together,she does get more work during hallowing because of all the candy but she spends the most of her time with you

She helps you hang up the decorations and spread the Halloween feels

However you havnt done that yet,not only that but you dont have that much time left you only have a month

Once tooth realizes that somethings wrong she'll immidatly do ask the other guardians if they had seen you or if they had heard something from you,the results all come back the same,you were seemingly no where

She decided to check the globe,that could have a clue right?

That's when she noticed there were many less lights then usual,and that when it started to line up..

People were forgetting about you.

The last time you had spoke before going radio silent you had mentioned that it wasnt even October and people were advertising Christmas things

She had realised that you had probally hid yourself away becuase of this

When she does eventually find you shes understandable very worried for you.

After she gets a thorough explanation she'll waste no time in helping you with preparations

However first off,she has to get you in the Halloween mood,as your current one is rather sour,and we cant have that!

She cheers you up by bringing you around and showing you places that are getting ready for Halloween

She brings you to see a small shop that has cobwebs,spiders,skeletons,ghosts the whole lot,she smiles as she sees a small one form on your lips

She then brings you to stores as parents and kids are choosing out pumpkins,baskets,sweets and costumes

When a smile finally Grace's your lips she hugs you tightly and tugs with her to get more decorations up and around

She understands what it feels like to be forgotten and she dosnt want that to happen to you

Bunnymund/Easter bunny

Hes used to people neglecting his holidays for others

But hes surprised when there seems to be lesser lights on the globe

Things line up really quickly in his head as the cogs start working

He dosnt waste a second,immediately searching for you in fear you've disappeared

Once he finds you he tries to calm you down reassuring you that aslong as hes there he wont let you disappear

He even decorates Easter island with some Halloween decorations

He gives you Halloween styled eggs as a way to cheer you up

He will decorate pumpkins with you aswell

since halloween takes place in fall he might take you to forests where the leaves have turned orange and are starting to fall

he will help you decorate places and even though hes not the biggest sweet tooth,with a big oof bribery im sure he'll try a sweet oor two

he'll constantly be there and comforting you

easter isnt all ways widley celebrated so hes probally had a fear of fading aswell

he wont ever say it but due to the fact that your holidays is overlooked in favour for christmas,he holds a small grudge

he knows its not norths fault but hes just salty

Jack frost

Honestly hes kind of tone deaf

hes very happy go lucky and isnt used or very good at adapting to change

id like to think that he was quite close to you even before becoming a guardian,because halloween is in the colder months of the year

it might take another guardian to point out your abscents or off behaviour

however just because hes abit tone deaf dosnt mean hes not smart

once its been pointed out to him hes going on a man hunt for you

altough he wasnt in an entirely similar situation,he still knows what its like to feel isolated,scared and alone,and as his S/o he dosnt want yuo feeling the same

once locating you the first thing he'll do is make sure your not fading away

if you are then he will moost likely panic

he will eventually calm himself down,realising that panicing wont help it at all

his first priorety is to make sure that your ok

mentally and physically

afterwards he takes you to do things to take it off your mind

some of his favorite things to do are skating and carving pumpkins,if your not good at either he'll help you

he loves decorating everywhere with fun decorations

his favorite halloween decore are those door bells that grab youor finger or smth(i hate those things with a passion,so i can imagine him loving them)

north/santa claus

if anyones going to find out the fastest,itts north

he has to keep a keen eye on the months and probally realise that its your holliday

his first reaction is to celebrate your holiday with you,he feels alot like a father figure to you and as such he feels he needs to celebrate your holiday with you

though the smile on his face dosnt stay long as he finds that many stores,instead of having halloween decoration.have christmas things

thats not right.

at first he thinks it might just be the store,and so he checks others

thats until he becomes aware that its most stores

why are they all decroated with christmas decore,they should be deced out with sceletons and pumpkins

not snowmen and gingerbreadmen

after coming to this realisation he checks the globe before visiting you#

he gets quite anxxious once checking the globe

hes quick to find and omfort you,hes quite furious people are neglecting your holiday for his.christmas is still months away!

after calming you down he will go ALL OUT on halloween decorations,the north pole dosnt even look like what it once was,white robes with dark circles are hanging around the celeing,skeletons have been placed everywhere in different positions,fake spiders and fake spider webs have been thrown enywhere they can.

all the elves and yeti's take a day off,to decorate pumpkins.

he'll probaly also reach out to the other guardians,inviting them all over so you can all celebrate together.<3

sandy/sandman

sandy is very intune with the going oon in the world,aswell as being extremly intuitive

hes probally seen this coming though he didnt think itd be to such an extent where it'd cause you distress

after feeling a particullary cold gust of autaum wind its clear something is wrong

after checking the globe it seems that his hypthesis had become reality

he wasnt very surprised since he had a nagging feeling it'd happen,apart of him thinks that he might have just been denieing that you had the possibility to fade,that he was in denial

either way he had to push his own thoughts away as he had more importtant things to do,such as comforting you and restoring your holiday to its former glory,or at least try to.

after locating you hes quick to alert you of his precents though he may not be the best at calming you down since,he cant really speak.

hes most likely to put you to sleep and give you good dreams whilst brainstorming ideas to help your current dilema

once your awake and calm,he'll try his best to relay his ideas and help you

cutting pumpkins is a must

he will try his best to make candy with you

if you ever need some comfort just say the word and hes hugging you and trying his best to comfort you

he makes sure you have good dreams for days

he promises that he'll try his best to help you

he'll be dammed if he ever didnt go through with that promise to you.

the other guardians will most likely notice both of your distress and end up helpping,either that or sandy asks them directly.

hope this is ok,i havnt writeen in a while,btw this was written with a keyboard and i cant be botherd to proof read it rn and just wanted to post it so here you go!,but in all seriosuness i will be working on my other requests,thank you all for being pateint with me<<33

[regulusrules]

Yo, I saw your post about orientalism in relation to the "hollywood middle-east" tiktok!

How can a rando and university dropout get into and learn more about? Any literature or other content to recommend?

Hi!! Wow, you have no idea how you just pressed a button. I'll unleash 5+ years on you. And I'll even add for you open-sourced works that you can access as much as I can!

1. Videos

I often find this is the best medium nowadays to learn anything! I'll share with you some of the best that deal with the topic in different frames

• This is a video of Edward Said talking about his book, Orientalism. Said is the Palestinian- American critic who first introduced the term Orientalism, and is the father of postcolonial studies as a critical literary theory. In this book, you’ll find an in-depth analysis of the concept and a deconstruction of western stereotypes. It’s very simple and he explains everything in a very easy manner.

• How Islam Saved Western Civilization. A more than brilliant lecture by Professor Roy Casagranda. This, in my opinion, is one of the best lectures that gives credit to this great civilization, and takes you on a journey to understand where did it all start from.

• What’s better than a well-researched, general overview Crash Course about Islam by John Green? This is not necessarily on orientalism but for people to know more about the fundamental basis of Islam and its pillars. I love the whole playlist that they have done about the religion, so definitely refer to it if you're looking to understand more about the historical background! Also, I can’t possibly mention this Crash Course series without mentioning ... ↓

• The Medieval Islamicate World. Arguably my favourite CC video of all times. Hank Green gives you a great thorough depiction of the Islamic civilization when it rose. He also discusses the scientific and literary advancements that happened in that age, which most people have no clue about! And honestly, just his excitement while explaining the astrolabe. These two truly enlightened so many people with the videos they've made. Thanks, @sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog

2. Documentaries

• This is an AMAZING documentary called Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Villifies A People by the genius American media critic Jack Shaheen. He literally analysed more than 1000 movies and handpicked some to showcase the terribly false stereotypes in western depiction of Arab/Muslim cultures. It's the best way to go into the subject, because you'll find him analysing works you're familiar with like Aladdin and all sorts.

• Spain’s Islamic Legacy. I cannot let this opportunity go to waste since one of my main scopes is studying feminist Andalusian history. There are literal gems to be known about this period of time, when religious coexistence is documented to have actually existed. This documentary offers a needed break from eurocentric perspectives, a great bird-view of the Islamic civilization in Europe and its remaining legacy (that western history tries so hard to erase).

• When the Moors Ruled in Europe. This is one of the richest documentaries that covers most of the veiled history of Al-Andalus (Muslim Spain). Bettany Hughes discusses some of the prominent rulers, the brilliance of architecture in the Arab Muslim world, their originality and contributions to poetry and music, their innovative inventions and scientific development, and lastly, La Reconquista; the eventual fall and erasure of this grand civilization by western rulers.

3. Books

• Rethinking Orientalism by Reina Lewis. Lewis brilliantly breaks the prevailing stereotype of the “Harem”, yk, this stupid thought westerns projected about arab women being shut inside one room, not allowed to go anywhere from it, enslaved and without liberty, just left there for the sexual desires of the male figures, subjugated and silenced. It's a great read because it also takes the account of five different women living in the middle east.

• Nocturnal Poetics by Ferial Ghazoul. A great comparative text to understand the influence and outreach of The Thousand and One Nights. She applies a modern critical methodology to explore this classic literary masterpiece.

• The Question of Palestine by Edward Said. Since it's absolutely relevant, this is a great book if you're looking to understand more about the Palestinian situation and a great way to actually see the perspective of Palestinians themselves, not what we think they think.

• Arab-American Women's Writing and Performance by S.S. Sabry. One of my favourite feminist dealings with the idea of the orient and how western depictions demeaned arab women by objectifying them and degrading them to objects of sexual desire, like Scheherazade's characterization: how she was made into a sensual seducer, but not the literate, brilliantly smart woman of wisdom she was in the eastern retellings. The book also discusses the idea of identity and people who live on the hyphen (between two cultures), which is a very crucial aspect to understand arabs who are born/living in western countries.

• The Story of the Moors in Spain by Stanley Lane-Poole. This is a great book if you're trying to understand the influence of Islamic culture on Europe. It debunks this idea that Muslims are senseless, barbaric people who needed "civilizing" and instead showcases their brilliant civilization that was much advanced than any of Europe in the time Europe was labelled by the Dark Ages. (btw, did you know that arabic was the language of knowledge at that time? Because anyone who was looking to study advanced sciences, maths, philosophy, astronomy etc, had to know arabic because arabic-speaking countries were the center of knowledge and scientific advancements. Insane, right!)

• Convivencia and Medieval Spain. This is a collection of essays that delve further into the idea of “Convivencia”, which is what we call for religious coexistence. There's one essay in particular that's great called Were Women Part of Convivencia? which debunks all false western stereotypical images of women being less in Islamic belief. It also highlights how arab women have always been extremely cultured and literate. (They practiced medicine, studied their desired subjects, were writers of poetry and prose when women in Europe couldn't even keep their surnames when they married.)

4. Novels / Epistolaries

• Granada by Radwa Ashour. This is one of my favourite novels of all time, because Ashour brilliantly showcases Andalusian history and documents the injustices and massacres that happened to Muslims then. It covers the cultural erasure of Granada, and is also a story of human connection and beautiful family dynamics that utterly touches your soul.

• Dreams of Trespass by Fatema Mernissi. This is wonderful short read written in autobiographical form. It deconstructs the idea of the Harem in a postcolonial feminist lens of the French colonization of Morocco.

• Scheherazade Goes West by Mernissi. Mernissi brilliantly showcases the sexualisation of female figures by western depictions. It's very telling, really, and a very important reference to understand how the west often depicts middle-eastern women by boxing them into either the erotic, sensual beings or the oppressed, black-veiled beings. It helps you understand the actual real image of arab women out there (who are not just muslims btw; christian, jew, atheist, etc women do exist, and they do count).

• Letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. This is a feminist travel epistolary of a British woman which covers the misconceptions that western people, (specifically male travelers) had recorded and transmitted about the religion, traditions and treatment of women in Constantinople, Turkey. It is also a very insightful sapphic text that explores her own engagement with women there, which debunks the idea that there are no queer people in the middle east.

---------------------

With all of these, you'll get an insight about the real arab / islamic world. Not the one of fanaticism and barbarity that is often mediated, but the actual one that is based on the fundamental essences of peace, love, and acceptance.

[abiiors]

under the cherry blossoms - george x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this isn't intentionally a george birthday fic but i'm honestly very happy with the coincidence. happy birthday to my sweetie pumpkin pie sugar plum fairy boy 🤭🤍 cw: brief mentions of being sick, like vomit etc. and a lot of sappy fluff, some smut but not very detailed and explicit. this is sooooooo cheesy ugh wc: 3.3k

it’s hits him first when he surprises her with the tickets as a christmas present—tickets to japan for the coming spring. tickets to see the cherry blossoms that she’s been dying to see ever since george showed her a few photos of him and the band in japan, laughing under the cherry blossoms, surrounded by pink petals. 

her eyes go round at the sight of the tickets, lingering on the destination again and again until her brain catches up with exactly what’s happening. then she grins so wide that she can’t quite keep her eyes open and tackles george into a hug until he’s on the floor and she’s on top of him, kissing his whole face and mumbling thank you over and over again. 

george hugs her tightly and laughs at her excitement. 

it hits him then—he should buy a ring. 

for weeks he pesters matty about it, then ross, then adam. adam, naturally, seems to have the most credibility on this matter, he’s the only one of them who’s ever made it to the marriage stage. george has a million and one questions about it, and a million and one anxious thoughts that just won’t seem to go away. 

“what if she hates the ring!” 

“she loves you, she’ll love the ring you get her.”

“yeah but what if i blow it and say all the wrong things?!”

“have you ever done that in the past?”

“uh… no.”

and this is where adam’s patience runs thin. 

ultimately, george is told to calm down, breathe, and pick a ring he thinks she’ll like. george knows her like the back of his own hand—knows her likes and dislikes and pet peeves, knows the weird ribena flavours she prefers. he even knows that she is a little superstitious about broken mirrors and spilt salt but gets huffy when it’s brought up (mostly by george in a fond, teasing way)

suffice it to say, george knows her. inside and out. 

and so decides to get his shit together, and get her the most perfect ring he’s ever seen.

ring tucked safely in george’s suitcase, they land in tokyo three days before his birthday. 

now that he’s over all his nervousness, george can’t contain the fucking excitement he’s felt for the past few weeks—it’s been an almost impossible task to keep the ring hidden from her at home. the sock drawer is out of question, along with every other tiny nook and cranny in the house because george knows how thorough she gets about spring cleaning. he has to resort to handing the ring to adam for safe-keeping. 

and sure it’s mostly so she won’t find it by accident, but also because he doesn’t want to give into the intimacy of the moment and propose on a whim. 

he wants it to be grand—champagne and candles and roses (or well… cherry blossoms). he wants it to be memorable. 

they get the hotel check-in sorted—well george does anyway while she bounces on the balls of her feet next to him, too excited to care about any tiredness or jet lag. 

it’s blissful, it’s perfect—that’s how he’d describe the first two days they spend there. so far it’s been exactly what he wanted—relaxing and exciting. the ring burns a hole in his suitcase though. every time he grabs something from it, he can’t resist swiping his fingers over the velvet box stashed in the corner, almost like his brain is trying to confirm over and over again that the ring is indeed there. 

at night when she goes to bed, george rehearses his speech in his head. 

you’re the love of my life… no! too fucking cheesy, and he’s stating the obvious.

i’ve thought of marrying you for… no! he can’t bring it up in the first fucking line, not before he actually pops the question. that’s meant to be for the after. 

i love you, i love everything about you… yes, okay, yes! now he’s going somewhere. that’s what he should do—keep it sweet and simple and real. keep it genuine. and so he repeats all of it in his head over and over again, smiling wide each time when he imagines her reaction. 

his mind’s come up with a thousand different scenarios—outcomes of all the little details. would she cry? (yes) would she squeal and jump? (also yes)

would she say yes? (he really fucking hopes so)

his actual birthday is out of the question. george knows she’s a firm believer in not proposing on other special occasions—so no christmas, no birthdays, and absolutely not someone else’s wedding. 

besides, he just wants to have a good birthday without being all nervous and jittery about it. 

on the day of, he wakes up to balloons. tonnes of them. he doesn’t even know when she’s had the time to blow them all up and arrange them in the room and order room service breakfast in bed with cherry blossoms in a small vase but george feels warmth spread through his whole body. 

how did he get so lucky? 

“happy birthday!” she squeals the moment she realises he’s awake. her excitement is palpable, her huge smile infectious. george pulls her tightly into his arms and kisses her softly. 

he mumbles a quiet thank you too, murmured against her lips so he won’t have to pull away a lot. 

she’s the one who deepens the kiss, dragging her tongue over his lip and nipping at it until his fingers dig into her hips out of sheer desperation. she fits so perfectly against him, like the last piece of a puzzle. made just for him. 

she groans into the kiss and his hand travels down, grabbing and squeezing her ass until she wraps her legs around his waist and gets on top. all traces of sleep leave him in an instant. 

george sits up as much as he can. his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone. 

“my sweet, sunshine girl,” he smiles along her skin, words spoken in a low whisper that make her shiver and squeeze her legs around him. 

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed to as much of her cleavage as her top offers. 

“george,” her fingers tighten on his shirt, “please, i need—fuck, need you.”

“anything for my girl,” he whispers.

everything about her amazes him—from the way she knows his body so well, to the way hers responds so perfectly to his touch. he can’t help but stare at her with adoration when he slides down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, face contorted in pleasure. he can’t stop staring at her when she falls apart, crying out his name. he only closes his eyes when his orgasm hits him, making his whole body tingle in pleasure. 

she falls on his chest after, body sweaty and slick and stays there until she manages to catch her breath. even when she climbs off him, she doesn’t venture too far, climbing back into bed and cuddling into his side once she gets some water for the both of them. 

“cancel plans for today? please?” he mumbles into her hair and she laughs. 

“we’re here, all the way on a different continent, and you want to spend the whole day in bed?” 

“please?” he tries his best at using puppy eyes on her, a trick that’s worked great for him multiple times before. and once again, she relents. 

“fineee birthday boy! only because it’s your day though.”

at the back of his head he kinda wishes it wasn’t, only so he could get the ring out right now and ask her. right here in this bed while she’s naked. 

he imagine what she’d look like with nothing but the ring on, the diamond glittering on her finger, messy hair, and a happy smile on her face. 

“can we at least have a birthday dinner for you? a proper one.”

“yes! i know just the right place,” he answers and kisses her deeply, teeth snagging on her lower lip until she’s wrapped around him again. 

tomorrow, he thinks. he’s going to do it tomorrow. 

and he’s going to make it perfect. 

the birthday dinner comes back to bite him in the ass. 

he spends the entirety of the morning after miserable on the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet, even after his stomach is emptier than it’s ever been. she sits behind him, stroking his back and getting him water whenever he needs it. she doesn’t move even when he repeatedly asks her to. 

“‘s disgusting,” followed by another gag to which makes her click her tongue. 

“it’s not. let me take care of you!”

it does bring him some relief to lay his head down on her lap in between rounds of throwing up so george doesn’t argue further about it. 

mostly though he’s upset about the whole day being ruined. he should be kneeling down in front of her! asking her the most important question of his life! and yet here he is, kneeling down in front of the toilet, face to face with disgusting, half-digested food. 

it’s like the universe has it out for him, ruining all his well thought out plans. 

fortunately, it passes an hour later, even though it leaves him feeling icky and disgusting. the only silver lining is that he gets to be pampered. she lets him sit in the bath, face squished into her stomach while she washes his hair for him. he groans every time a stomach cramp hits but she scratches his scalp as a consolation. 

it’s okay, he thinks, he still has a good few days to do it. tomorrow will be better.

and then they fight. 

well, it’s not a fight fight but it’s most certainly a little spat that leaves her all huffy and sour. and george knows it’d be a terrible idea to propose when she’s in a mood like this. it is, in part, his fault after all—he’s been distracted. 

and he can’t even admit to her why he’s been distracted, coordinating all the little details with the hotel staff and telling the old japanese florist exactly what flowers he wants where one party barely speaks english and the other speaks no japanese at all. 

it’s all stressful. it’s a slight mess. 

and he’s been on his phone a little more than he should. so when george looks up to see her, her hand on her hips, foot tapping in annoyance, he knows he’s messed up.

“is there something more important?” there’s a slight bite to her words which grates on him. 

george freezes, trying to think of an excuse on the spot. “just…matty.”

her eyes narrow. he knows that look, knows that she does not believe a word coming out of his mouth right now. but it’s not like he can spill everything. 

“there was a…holdup. sorted now.” he tries not to stutter but ends up sounding really curt. 

she gives him the side-eye, playing with the tassels of her top. george hears her exasperated sigh, her frustration palpable in the tension that hangs between them. “it’s always matty. how convenient.” 

george's jaw tightens, his own irritation flaring up. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, you’re clearly being shady and using matty as an excuse!”

george panics. this is going south and if he doesn’t salvage this now and come up with a better excuse he’s going to end up with an upset girlfriend and absolutely zero chances of a yes. 

he opens and closes his mouth, stuttering out gibberish. 

fuck. 

“it’s fine, george,” she sighs and turns around, walking away without even waiting to see if he’s following. it’s upsetting that he can’t figure out what she’s thinking right now. it’s not like her to be upset with him so quickly. it’s not like her to just stop communicating. 

all george can do is catch up to her and kiss her head in apology. eventually she melts but he can still sense a bit of hurt in her voice every time she speaks. 

“fine,” she huffs, “you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now. i’m not mad at you.”

“you sure about that?”

“i promise, baby. i’m not. just…want a bit more of your attention?”

for the rest of the day he vows not to touch his phone, only taking it out once to cancel all the half-formed planned when he’s in the bathroom of a restaurant. the ring stays in his pocket, burning against his thigh.

by their penultimate day george is fucking sure he’s jinxed. the ring comes with him everywhere they go but then how is it possible that every time he tries to propose something or the other goes wrong? 

they have a hectic day of travelling and she’s too tired to do anything but order room service and sleep or he can’t find the right moment to do it, can’t think of the right words to segue into it. by their penultimate day he’s frustrated, huffy, silently stewing. so much so that even she can tell something’s wrong with him despite his best attempts to hide it. 

“should we…go for a walk?” she suggests just around sunset, a little timid. “there’s this little street by our hotel i saw yesterday, cherry blossoms on both sides. i think it would be nice.”

halfheartedly, he says yes and intertwines his fingers with her as they walk out of their hotel and onto the cosy streets outside. on any other day, this would have been one of the prettiest things he’s ever experienced—strolling down a beautiful street with the love of his life while the world is doused in golden light. but his frustration trumps everything.

“is something wrong?” she asks suddenly. her voice quivers. 

for such a pretty street, it’s utterly empty, devoid of any cars or people or even any occasional stray cats that she loves to stop and pet. 

irritation burns in his chest—not at her, at everything else, this whole trip, one silly situation after the next. “no.”

“no because—”

“can we not talk about this right now?”

she goes quiet at the interruption, eyes wide and confused. george is about to even apologise for it when her whole face changes, goes from confused to determined. 

“no, actually. let’s talk about it.”

“baby—”

“no! you have been distracted the whole time we have been here, something’s clearly wrong and you won’t tell me what it is!”

george gapes at her, but she’s clearly not done yet. 

“i know you’ve been here many times before but it feels like you’ve had a shit time with me—”

“what?! no—”

“because i can tell the whole time, you’ve been preoccupied—”

“oh god, i’ve been trying to propose!” he yells out in the middle of the street. a cherry blossom petal flutters down and smacks him in the face and george looks at his girlfriend’s stunned face. a pit opens up in his stomach. 

he just said that… he just fucking said that. 

the conversation he had with adam months ago pops up in his head. for all the misplaced confidence his friend had in him, george has just gone and blown it all up. exactly what he was worried about. and now that he has started, he can't even stop.

“i’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for days now but something or the other keeps going wrong and i—” he chokes and the rest of the words die on his tongue. 

all the nights he’s spent rehearsing his speech, all the time he spent trying to make it happen, all of it down the drain because he stupidly blurted it out. george stuffs his hand in his pocket and takes out the velvet box. 

“fuck, i’ve carried this everywhere with me and—”

“yes.”

“what?”

there are tears shining in her eyes and for a second he is so sure that this is about to turn into a serious fight. he fucked up, he fucked up deeply. 

and then she breaks out into the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen, laughing through the tears. “yes. yes! are you kidding me? YES!”

“yes, you’ll…marry me?”

“if you’re still asking…”

he doesn’t even realise he’s crying until something wet hits his nose. there’s an entire storm of emotions in his chest—a whole mixture of nervousness and guilt and glee and oh god so much fucking happiness that he can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his face, can’t help the way a whole swarm of butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

more cherry blossoms flutter down and george laughs along with her. 

“this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. i had a whole thing planned, shit!”

“so do it. ask me!”

and that’s what he does. 

instead of the roses and lights and champagne, george kneels down in the middle of the cherry blossom-covered empty street in the dying light of the sun, and looks up at her. 

he opens the ring box. 

“i love you so much, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this—oi, stop laughing at me!” to which she just laughs harder and wipes away the tears in her eyes. 

“fuck it,” george curses under his breath, “fuck the speech, just…i’ve been so desperate to hear you say yes. marry me? please?”

somehow between crying and jumping up and down in excitement, she manages to nod and that’s all the confirmation he needs to get up to his feet and kiss her deeply, kiss her till the air gets knocked out of his lungs and he has to step away just a little bit to breathe. but nothing and no one can wipe the smile on his face. 

quickly, he takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. it fits her perfectly, like it was meant for her and her only. 

yes. she just said yes.

she just said yes after the shittiest proposal in the world. how did he get so lucky?

“that was…utterly shit. sorry i’ve been such a shit boyfriend.”

“fiance,” she corrects with a big, goofy grin on her face. “and are you joking?! that was the best proposal ever. certainly the most memorable.”

“it was?”

she nods again, distracted this time, eyes trained at her ring. the fading sunlight makes it look even more perfect.

“i’d really like to hear it though, the original plan.” 

george shakes his head and takes her hand in his. his thumb swipes over her ring, drawing lazy circles around it until he memorises the feel of it on her finger. the precise shape and size of it. it’s perfect, he thinks. the perfect ring for his perfect girl. 

“let’s go back then,” he kisses the top of her head, “and i’ll tell you all about it.”

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

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[turbulentscrawl]

I LOOVE your Luca he's soooo <3 may I please request some headcanons for him with an s/o from the future? (As in our time) like they time traveled back to the manor and are now stuck there. Sfw and if you can think of anything nsfw then go for it!

Thank you! And I love writing for Luca, he's definitely a favorite of mine <3

I may have missed the mark a tad here? I think Luca would largely treat an future-s/o the same as one who's not...but technology definately plays a factor in some aspects of the relationship.

Also the whole time I wrote this i kept thinking about what skills someone from the future would have. It would be hilarious to blare music to speed up ciphers, or maybe chug a preworkout and get a kiting boost hahah

-So first of all, everyone is completely mindblown by this development. It’s not like anyone really knew anything concrete about the manor’s time-space situation, but this just proves even the most popular theories hold no weight. Are you from a different era, or a different timeline all together? Why are you the only one—or are you just the first?? Has more time passed than they suspected, is anyone here even from the same universe???

-Basically, there’s a lot of chaos, spoken and unspoken. Everyone is varying degrees of scared, distrustful, and excited. It’s mostly the last one, in Luca’s case, which is why he’s one of the first people you get to know. Instead of avoiding you, he’s constantly around you. Question after question after question—it probably gets tiring after a while.

-But he’s just so earnest! His excitement is contagious, and despite running his mouth a lot he’s incredibly respectful and well-mannered. When he gets a moment with you alone, he concedes that this must all be more overwhelming for you than it was for everyone else, considering that you’ve lost about 100 years of development along with the regular shockers. So he asks you to come to him if anyone treats you too harshly. He promises to be a respite from that, if nothing else.

-And he is! Luca doesn’t often let people in his work spaces for several reasons…but he makes an exception for you. Just don’t touch anything, okay? You’re safe in his messy spaces. It’s during a visit there that he tells you about what happened to him, all the things he’s been told but doesn’t remember. He’s open about having been in prison, of course, but he doesn’t give the details to just anyone. This is his good-faith peace offering, strange as it might seem. And you can share your life with him when you’re ready.

-If any of your technology happened to come through with you, he’s going to want to look at them. I don’t…entirely suggest letting him? It’s up to you, but just know your phone may not survive the thorough disassembly-inspection he wants to give it. On the other hand! I think Luca could charge your phone just by holding it so no worries if you didn’t have a charger in your bag.

-Years down the line, you two will still have things to teach one another. Culture and technology both are very different in each of your homes, and the little details show themselves at the strangest times. Luca, in all his genius, does his best to replicate the things you miss most about home. It’s only fair that the manor be populated with creature comforts for everyone. It’s not that he’s trying to impress you or anything.

-At some point he starts to ask about dating modern culture. It has its perks, obviously, like being able to stay in immediate touch long-distance, but honestly he’s a bit disappointed to hear about the rush and informality of it. Luca returns the favor, explaining how courtship tended to work from his time…so you know what he’s doing when he starts courting you. He can speed things along if you really want him to, but Luca would enjoy a month or so of gentle flirting and pining. Anticipation is part of the enjoyment!

-After being together for so long, he starts to pick up some of your mannerisms and modern dialect. It’s funny for him to suddenly be throwing out pop culture references when he doesn’t fully understand them. It’s like teaching your grandparents slang; he doesn’t get it but he’s happy to be involved. I’m 100% sure there’s no wifi at the manor but if you have any funny videos saved to you phone they become Luca’s favorite thing. You are now designated manor documentarian! Make sure to catch all of everyone’s embarrassing and funny moments.

-On that note, it’s also incredibly helpful for Luca if you film the two of you a lot. Literally anything, him mumbling to himself while he works, silly jokes, him playing the piano. It’s so much easier to show him things when his memory fails, than to try and explain your relationship from the ground-up.

[50shadesofoctarine]

Why you should write that AO3 comment:

Hello! I am an AO3 author and professional fandom dipshit. This is an "essay" on why you should leave that comment on the fanfic you just read.

Table of Contents:

"Commenting is too much effort!"

"I don't know what to write!"

Do you want more fanfic?

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

"Commenting is too much effort!"

Yes, writing a comment takes energy. I'm an introvert, I get that. I have two counter arguments to this point.

AO3 comments are not the SAT:

This is a comment from my latest fic, Quantum Entangled.

Three words and a heart. It requires zero consideration, it isn't specific to the fic, it's something you could copy-paste, even. A comment like this is better than nothing. I'll let my reply from AO3 explain why:

"You know what, I appreciate this way more than you'd probably expect. The temptation to lurk is a strong one, both for social anxiety reasons and internet content-consumption culture reasons. But when people lurk, I can't tell that they've enjoyed the story. The more people that lurk instead of interacting, the more I assume that my work wasn't good enough, irrespective of the reader's actual feelings. So this was a very welcome comment to read. Thank you for indicating your enjoyment. I will endeavour to write more stuff for you to lurk on in the future. :)"

A comment like this, one that is as thoughtless and low effort as possible, is still a comment. Something that denotes a reader's interest. Because, and I can't be clear enough about this, I HAVE NO OTHER WAY OF KNOWING THAT YOU LIKED IT. Kudos and comments are my only window into the reader's experience.

Sure, I'd love more detailed and thorough comments on my work, but, if that expectation is the thing that's going to stop you from commenting at all, I'd prefer the bland copy-paste appreciation.

Onto my second argument.

Do you know what also takes effort? WRITING THE DAMN FIC:

You do not get to complain about being forced to type a congratulatory handful of words after reading that 200k slow-burn fantasy au. Do you know how many hours went into that thing? Do you? Because I can guarantee that it was A LOT. All that writers are asking for is a single emoji. A kudos, at the very least. Consider the effort that went into the creation that you've just experienced and give just a thimble full of it back.

Authors lay out a feast for you to devour. They're only requesting a "thank you".

"I don't know what to write!"

Like in the previous example, an AO3 comment can be as simple as three words saying that you appreciated it. Just an acknowledgement that you were there. It doesn't have to be fancy.

But if you want fancy...?

Here's one of my comments, from Tishae's Better Together.

Let me break it down for you.

"Stunning. This au is so well developed. I love how you managed to maintain tension after the point that they discover that their feelings are requited. This was brilliantly paced, and the action (esp the ending) was so engaging."

The comment opens with appreciation. (Think of it as a sandwich with love as the bread. It starts and ends with my enjoyment.)

There are specific details about what I liked.

"If I may ask, what was the crime that the Metatron committed? Maybe I'm bad at reading between the lines or maybe I missed something, but I'm really curious as to what dirt they have on him. Victimless? Bad enough for imprisonment, but not so morally reprehensible as to make Anathema reveal it? Did he embezzle? That's all I can really think of."

Continues with a specific question about the story and plot.

Shows that I was critically engaged and actively considering the story.

You don't have to have questions about every fic that you read, but don't be afraid to ask them if you do. I love it when people ask me about my work.

"Thank you for the delicious food. I honestly thought that you were going to have Crowley's final look be something in grey (black and white being the theme of the show, metaphorically representing separation/binary, so Aziraphale was uncomfortable with it due to the implications. Grey, symbolising unity/shades of grey as an idiom, would then be the biggest middle finger to the Metatron) but I do really like what you came up with."

Gratitude.

Thoughts about how I read the plot. (This is something I particularly love to read as an author. Please tell me what's going on in that funky lil' brain of yours!!)

"I'm hoping this comment provides plenty of dopamine. If the task activation and instant gratification parts of your brain light up, you might be more likely to write GO content again. Love your work, thanks for sharing it. I hope you gain 3 inches of metaphorical dick length. Please keep writing."

Encouragement to keep writing. (This is the best way to ensure that creators remain in the fandom)

A funny comment to sign off.

Now that you know what to comment, let's start on the real reasons why you should.

Do you want more fanfic?

Fun fact! Fanfictious Authoria are a species that sustain themselves entirely on a diet of brain worms, unfinished WIPs, and kudos. As one of the three fundamental food groups, removing kudos from the fandom ecosystem causes a complete collapse of the natural order. In times of unprecedented scarcity, entire populations of Fanfictious Authoria can die out completely. This means that the production of fanfiction, in that particular region of fandom, stops entirely, often causing major ecological damage, and the subsequent deaths of fan species in the same genus. (Like the Fanfictious Artia, or the Fanfictious Editour, both of which subsist on fanfiction based diets to survive.)

In conservation efforts, experts are imploring readers to donate kudos and comments toward any fandom region that they want to stay alive.

But I digress.

When I want more content, I tell the author. Ask and you shall receive; it's the best way to convince an author/artist to make more.

My comment on @mrghostrat's And They Were Streamers

You liked it? Then COMMENT! Not for the author's sake, but for your own. You want to see the ending of a WIP? Well, it'd be a terrible shame if the author gave up on it because they thought no one was reading... They don't know that you enjoy their work until you TELL THEM. They're not psychic, you have to help them hear you. Commenting on the things you like influences the creators of said things to attribute the act of making content (and, notably, making the type of content that specifically appeals to you) with the dopamine hit of reading your reaction. Treat them like Pavlov's dogs. Ring the kudos-bell.

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

They have real human feelings and real human egos. The contemporary attitude towards media engagement is skewed towards algorithmic, instant, and uncritical consumption. This is pumping straight gasoline into the beautiful lakes of our fandom ecosystem. Fandom cannot afford to treat its creators like mechanical text generators. We are not an unfeeling assembly line, only there to produce content. We are enthusiasts, engaging in our hobby. No fan creator has to show you anything. They are fully within their rights to keep their works hidden in their computer files, never to see the light of day. Every fanfic on AO3 is only there because someone had the grace to share it with you. You are not entitled to an author's work, just as they are not entitled to your kudos. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do not forget your part in this symbiosis.

It's a problem that extends beyond AO3. Tumblr is a less enthusiastic place than it used to be. Fandom as a whole is drifting towards a consumption mindset. I, for one, am sick of it. Reblog things, like them, share them. Make fanart of fanart. Who gives a shit? Do the cringy thing. You don't have to cultivate your blog aesthetic. Be who you are, like what you like, and have enthusiasm about all of it. Fandom should be an expression of radical self acceptance. Embrace it. Leave essays about fics that you liked. Reblog the essays of other's when you see them. Exist in the mutual joy of seeing and being seen. You are not just an external observer, absorbing content from a distance. You are here too. Wave back at us. Say 'hi.'

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

My final appeal is a moral one.

Commenting on AO3 is just a kind thing to do.

You are your actions. Are you the kind of person who does the kind thing when no one is watching? When no one will care?

Fanfiction is a hobby, and I'm not here to guilt you about how you spend your leisure time. I'm only here to say that there is a kindness you could be giving the world.

If you are one of the people that performs this kindness, I thank you.

[arcaneauthor]

I just read your tattoos tell a Story and I got a random idea (also i love your writing) but I can see reader being friends with soap and while ghost is out on a mission (maybe solo or something) the two get a classic best friend tattoo

if you wanna use this go ahead just thought i would share

also, you dropped this 👑

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader, John “Soap” Mactavish x reader(platonic only).

Warnings: Short intense make out session at the beginning, other than that?, fluff?, some swearing but it’s sensored.

A/n: Your comment honestly made my day🥰 thank you so much for this wonderful idea!

“Mm, I missed you.” You admit, pulling Ghost in for another kiss not caring that your breath hasn’t caught up from the last.

“Missed you too darlin’. So much.” He breathes in between pecks, grip firm on your waist. Pulling you in as if no bodily contact was enough for him. And that’s saying a lot considering how much bodily contact was occurring between you. Almost no part of your entire being was deprived of his touch at the moment. Thighs pressed against thighs, stomach against stomach, chest against chest. Not even a hair could fit in the space your bodies do not fill.

Your hands hold tightly to the short locks of his hair, black balaclava being removed in the privacy of his room in the 141’s base. Simon is starting to realize just how much he loves your hands there.

His kisses begin trailing downward, first your neck, somehow immediately hitting that pulse point that makes you squirm, before trailing lower, down your shoulder, bicep, inner elbow, forearm. He’s so thorough you’d think he was trying to memorize your whole anatomy, he probably is. Until abruptly, he stops.

You slowly blink away the haze your mind has been trapped in, confused by his mouths disappearance. “Si?”

He slowly lifts your arm by its wrist, straightening up from where he was bent slightly over.

“Whas’ this? Wasn’ here before.” And that’s when you realize what he’s looking at, the tattoo, placed towards the bottom of your forearm. You don’t know why, but for a quick second you’re worried that he might be mad about the change you made to your body without his permission. Past trauma you’d guess. But a quick look at his face and a survey of his tone tells you he’s not irritated at all, just curious. Of course he wouldn’t be, it’s Simon.

With the now known knowledge that he’s okay with it, you start to get giddy. A huge toothy smile overtaking your face. All heat from the rather intense make out session completely forgotten in the face of your excitement.

“I forgot we hadn’t told you about that!”

“We?” He questions with furrowed brows, though you ignore him.

You grab the balaclava from his bed, “Here put this on.” You shove it over his head, earning a huff from him as he had to adjust it from where it awkwardly covered his eyes, “It’d be easier if I just showed you.” All of 141 has already seen his face, though you know he’s more comfortable with it on.

You grab his hand, not allowing him time for any more questions before dragging him out the door and down the hall, until you reach the door you were looking for.

Simons head turns towards you,”Why are we at Mactavish’s room?” He asks in suspicion. What had you two idiots done?

You give him a mischievous smile and knock on the door, receiving a distinctly Irish “come in.”

You waste no time in busting through the door. Soap’s sitting on his bed watching some kind of cheesy cooking show, to which Ghost gives a slightly amused smirk under the mask. He’ll definitely be hearing about that later.

“Lt., y/n. To wha’ do I owe th-“ You don’t even let him finish the sentence

“You haven’t showed him?” You hold up your arm for emphasis.

He immediately knows what you mean,”Would’ve, if he wouldn’t of bloody left all of us for his “solo mission”.”

You both know he’s just poking fun, though it still earns him a glare from your boyfriend. Soap glares back, buts it’s all in good nature. At least you think it is.

You roll your eyes, “Alright boys, lets stop comparing sizes shall we?”

You’re not sure about Ghost, but Soap blushes and turns his head away sheepishly. Ghost does too.

“Now, back to the important stuff.” You turn towards Johnny,”Arm, now.” You demand, giving him a “come here” motion.

He leaps off the bed, rolling up his sleeve as he walks up to you with a slight childish skip to his step. He holds out his arm as if it’s show and tell. You do the same with yours. You look at each other, a sh*t-eating grin on both your faces as you try to contain your child-like giggles, before turning to gouge Simon’s reaction.

He stares at your conjoined arms with that same expressionless look to his eyes. He looks back up, flicking his gaze between you two.

There’s a tense silence.

Until

“What the f*ck is that?”

And that’s the drop of water that breaks the dam. You and Soap absolutely loose it, laughing so hard you can’t see through your tears. Forced to lean on each other for support when your knees become too weak.

“Come on Lt., ya know it’s f*ckin’ funny.” Johnny wheezes in between belted laughs, lightly patting your back.

“Yeah Si!”

He completely ignores your taunts, shaking his head as if scolding children,”Idiots, the lot of you.” He says it light enough to where you’re not worried he’s actually annoyed, before turning to leave, closing the door behind him, successfully cutting off Mactavish’s, “Ah come on Ghost, live a l-“

And if he lets out a little amused huff when he shuts the door, well, Johnny never has to know.

-+-

Later that night, in the dark safety of your own bedroom, in which Simon is staying the night, you hear a slight rumble from his side of the bed. Your eyes snap open, afraid he’s having a nightmare of some sort. Wouldn’t be the first time. Slowly, as to not startle him, you turn towards him with practiced ease, prepared to gently calm him from his panic as you always do. Until you see his expression in the dim moonlight coming from your window, eyes catching on the white of his teeth.

“You’re laughing.” You state incredulously.

“No I’m not.” He defends as if you can’t see him chuckling right in front of you

You can’t help but smile, his joy infectious,”Yes, you are. Why are you laughing?”

For a second he just continues on, not answering, until he calms himself down enough to get out-,”That d*mn tattoo.” Before desolving in deep chuckles again.

His explanation gets you tickled, so, you join him in his amusement, your laughter making his worse and vice versa. It goes on for several minutes. Just as one of you start to quiet down and you think it’s over, the other will start again, setting them both off once more

Finally, you both quiet your laughs into something softer, catching your breath.

“I knew you liked it.” You both bust into booming laughter again, even louder this time.

Heads thrown back against your pillows, your laughter descended on into the late of night.