#idk sorry if its annoying tagging them all

[maraskywalkers]

okay so I was on a bit of a "soap survives mw3" soapghost kick & then got on a nikprice kick so now I've been thinking a lot about a "soap lives but is taken by makarov" winter soldier esque au where nik learns soap is alive & in makarov's clutches & ultimately helps rescue him but he doesn't immediately tell Price & the 141 so there's some drama & tension about it

okay so like he doesn't say anything because at first it's only rumors right like very vague underground conspiracy theory type stuff so he's not gonna say anything because he doesn't want to get their hopes up or drag them into some dangerous obsession that could ultimately be fruitless

bc I also headcanon that price goes to nik after killing shepard and the two of them end up spending the night together like you know they have a very intense passionate night where price is actually the most vulnerable he'll allow himself to be & it's emotional & intense & heartbreaking & beautiful okay you know all those things

and anyway it's relevant bc nik has seen where price is at right like what makarov has done to his captain what losing soap has done to him & also the 141 bc price expressed his concerns for them with gaz trying to hold them together while ghost is slowly slipping further away from them

so ok he doesn't say anything but keeps his ears open to anything & ofc starts getting more & more pieces so eventually he actually investigates & then he contacts laswell like this could actually be something but we need actual proof & she's on board even tho the whole thing sounds impossible & they do get their proof that soap is alive & makarov has him

but soap is not soap anymore

he's been tortured & brainwashed a la winter soldier style, he doesn't know who he is or have any memories of the 141, he's just been turned into a weapon for makarov to use however he wants

so nik & laswell decide not tell price, maybe it's more laswell than nik (she's worried this might actually break them & they're barely holding it together as is?) but they ultimately agree & make a deal to find a way to bring soap back & bring soap home before they do

and I'm not totally sure what I want but I like the idea of them getting him back & he winds up staying with nik for a while in like a safehouse or some hidden location while they help him and want to reach out to price & the 141 like as soon as they him secured at the safehouse but they aren't able to right away like maybe the 141 got a lead on makarov so they're on the other side of the world & had to go dark or something like there's a disruption in their ability to communicate

but makarov can still finds out that soap has been not only discovered but rescued before nik or laswell can get the 141 bc like it's not something they can drop in a phone call they're trying to tell them in person & everything you know?

but anyway I kinda like them finding out thru makarov bc he thinks that it's them like he knows they're all a team or whatever & he knows who has soap so he makes some sort of comment about him and price is like wtf are you talking about & bc makarov is a sadistic bastard he laughs all like oh you don't know & idk it's a whole thing

but so then! ofc they get a hold of laswell & nik & it all comes out & it's terrible bc the 141 is hurt & angry but like price is esp hurt by nik not telling him bc he was there after & what they talked about & how price had opened himself to nik about losing soap & nik is like I wanted to tell you but I had to be sure I could bring him back to you first & also like "I didn't know then, I didn't know that night, I swear to you" and it's all emotional & tense but they end up making up (and eventually making love again ofc)

and oh actually I think I had the idea of it being soap eventually like calling price & gaz & ghost out on being mad but probably moreso ghost I think actually bc price works thru it with nik & laswell on a more personal level bc they have history there the three of them & gaz does too but it's different & ofc he is upset but I think he'd be able to understand a bit more whereas ghost who is already not great at feelings is like still reeling from soap being alive & being kept from him by a friend/ally (past trust issues popping up again) that he hasn't even begun to process soap being tortured & brainwashed yet so soap has to bring him around

like a soap who's been slowly coming back to himself with help but maybe he's not totally there but enough that he gets it you know he appreciates what nik & laswell have done for him & are still doing & he's able to offer perspective like "it was awful Lt I think if you'd seen me it've killed ya" (ghost would have some comment about like already being dead or how losing soap almost killed him, you know something dramatic & devastating & borderline romantic all at once) and eventually they mend all the rifts & everything

and I focused on nikprice here but it is equally in my head as a soapghost story like soap is never fully gone so the heartbreak of remembering but not remembering & recovering & dealing with the fallout of having been makarov's & all of the guilt & shame he'd feel (uncalled for obvs but he'd still grapple with it) and like knowing simon before he fully remembers him and just being heartbreaking

and ghost too like I have a line in my head when price is confronting nik that's along the lines of "we almost lost simon" bc ghost was not handling his grief well and like i can't decide if they were pre relationship or established relationship but I'm a sucker for the ghost hadn't ever said I love you out loud to soap yet thing so it's especially like gut punch

but ultimately a happy ending ofc for all of them!! like bucky barnes soap gets his mind, his memories, himself back and he heals & so does ghost & the rest of the 141 & soapghost probably get married bc I love that and nikprice actually acknowledge they're in love & committed to each other

so yeah if you read all of that wow thank you sorry if it wasn't totally coherent I've played mw1 & mw2 but haven't finished mw3 so sorry if things are inaccurate or just like weird & silly

I have no current plans to actually write this fic bc I don't have the confidence to do it justice or the motivation to try right now but like who knows??

but! if you're a fic writer & you wanna take it & run with it please do!!!! just let me know so I can read it!! same for fan artists!

[beeduoo]

i really like that one tiktok

[heartorbit]

something something sewing event

[sieglinde-freud]

i miss claude so badly im already planning my golden deer maddening run while still in the middle of black eagles. i just want my guy. my favorite guy. unfortunately i just love the black eagles as a group/cast but i am mourning my man (i never kill him btw)

[redgearsmovin]

man .

[queer-pagan-witch]

One day I will learn, that just because the bottle is low, does not mean I need to finish off the bottle.

[itsalwaysdark]

mad w power rn

[barnabybrainrot]

—-

[merethessc]

The amount of times i have to contact Tumblr support is crazy

[lesbianyosano]

sorry for being the party pooper but theres that art of fyodor as a sniper that ive seen going around and am i the only one who feels. a little weird about it

[applebees4prez]

excited to watch hsmtmts but also. SO DONE with the love triangles and from the one clip i’ve watched i already know we’re getting another one

[kurthummeldeservesbetter]

...

[kidza]

.

[not-souleaterpost]

When you deleted your reddit acount because the Soul Eater reddit doesnt like your posts

Nah but for real, say what you want about tumblr, but reddit is so much more anoying - but maybe thats most social media, tried uploading videos on tiktok only to get copyright stuck the same second or just have them deleted for vague comunity guidelines shit, maybe I was too hard on youtube.

I know crying about reddit is pathetic but I dunno, just let me vent lol, idunno gotta get my shit together, too many distractions and other bullshit.

[starlightsearches]

All Yours

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." / "I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken." / "I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do."

@somethingvicked tagging you because I accidentally deleted the original ask 😬 just wanted to say thanks for the request and a big, fat SORRY for taking so long. i was scrolling through my drafts the other day and saw this was like a year old and the shame managed to motivate me enough to finish this. Ooops again and I hope you enjoy!! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always cherished 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

AN: 18+ only!!!!!!, car sex, partially-clothed sex, piv, semi-public, titty worship, humping, dacryphilia, unwarranted jealousy, porn with a little plot, eddie's self-depricating at the beginning but he fucks like a god, very possesive! eddie, multiple orgasms, one (1) mention of pregnancy but it's off-hand and mostly unrelated to the sex, unprotected sex, I took the spirit of the prompts more than the literal wording, this is very different for me and maybe rushed? idk you tell me 🙃

Eddie always jokes that you're his second love.

His van—with its stained upholstery, rattling frame and the battery on its last leg—was here first, he says. And despite everything previously mentioned, he treats that car like his baby.

So when he slams his door hard enough to rattle the glass in the window, it wouldn’t take a genius to know something is up.

Eddie sits silently in the half-light, gripping at the steering wheel with both hands and gnawing at his bottom lip until the skin turns white.

"Everything okay?"

He won't even look at you when he shoves the key in the ignition.

"Sure," Eddie says, but there's a bite to his voice, quiet over the roaring grind of the starter, "why wouldn't it be?"

The car does start—despite his abuse to the engine—and you prop your feet up on the dash, raising your brows as he tears out onto the empty street.

"Ohhh-kay. Is this about—"

You don't even get a chance to take a guess.

"It's not about Steve."

Eddie spits Steve's name at the window and the passing trees, their leaves blurring into inky smudges. You watch his jaw tick, eyes flashing from the road to the rear-view mirror, but never to you.

His resolve falters with the press of your hand against his on the gearshift.

"Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if this was about Patrick Swayze?”

The speedometer ticks up for a quick beat, and then drops, and Eddie squirms in his seat.

He steers off to the right, and the van shakes as the tires bump off the smooth pavement to the gravel edge of the road, little twigs snapping off on the trees outside against the fading paint.

"Fuck," Eddie grumbles, quiet, like he's having a conversation with himself. His fingers catch in his curls when he takes the other hand from the steering wheel. It's dark out here, away from the street lights, but you still catch the shine glazing his lower lashes, the way he blinks to keep any tears from pooling there.

"I mean, it's no big deal," you tell him, petting over his knuckles with your thumb, "I just wish you would have said something."

You're not sure what lies were spread to make sure the goofy little pre-teens didn't show up for movie night and try to break down Steve's door. You just knew that—for once—everybody piled on the couch in the living room was of legal age.

It seemed like an exciting prospect when the night started, but everything was pretty much the same: just more beer, and fewer voices shouting about whatever movie you were gonna watch.

Nancy and Robin were a united front when they pulled out Dirty Dancing, and you joined them, mostly to annoy Steve when he pretended he wasn't interested.

Eddie grumbled about the choice, arm slung around your shoulder, but he came around, eventually. Nobody can resist the allure of Johnny Castle.

However many beers you had may have been one too many, though, because as soon as the credits started rolling, Steve had yanked you from Eddie's grasp and onto your feet as Nancy and Robin were cheering jump jump jump and you ran, stumbling into Steve's arms with a surprisingly powerful leap. Then you were floating, high above the living room with a bird's eye view of the crushed beer cans and Hostess wrappers littered over the carpet for one glorious second.

Until you landed in a giggling heap with Steve groaning beneath you, the room shaking with laughter to the point of tears, until Robin threatened to pee her pants.

Now that you've sobered up a little, you recognize that Eddie hadn't been laughing along.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest, eyes big as saucers, pathetic like a little dog who's about to get yelled at for pissing on the couch, and he twists the hand that's resting beneath yours until your fingers intertwine, gives you a squeeze—a move you recognize as an apology before he's got the words for what he's feeling.

"You know I'm not interested in Steve, right?" you ask, squeezing back.

Eddie nods, but his eyes tell a different story. He carries this thing with him—a kind of self-conscious bewilderment each time you reach for him in a crowd, press your lips to his, call him your boyfriend when there are people around to hear it.

It's kind of funny how much it doesn't make sense to you, how you assumed that, deep down, Eddie knew that you loved him, but also how badly you wanted him. That it wasn't some kind of fluke or coincidence or apathy that kept you here.

Eddie's breath catches in his chest, like he's trying not to cry, and you know you were wrong. You're not doing nearly good enough a job at making Eddie feel half as loved as he is.

You slip your hand from his, resting it just above his knee—an innocent start for your more illicit plans—scooting in your chair until you're almost nose to nose, lower your voice into a whisper.

"I'm serious, honey. You've got nothing to worry about."

Your plan is working already. Eddie swallows hard enough you can see his adam's apple jump in his throat, and his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes to the hand you've got on his thigh, climbing higher with each soothing stroke.

"Yeah, I-I know, baby, it's just—" his breath hitches, but he's fighting to get the words out, wet lips parting with a heavy breath as your fingers travel higher, thumb in the crease between his thigh and his crotch, "it's Steve Harrington."

His voice jumps an octave on Steve’s name, and your quiet laughter comes out in little breaths.

“I don't want to talk about Steve Harrington."

Your words hit his mouth in a puff of hot air, and Eddie gasps into the kiss that follows, moaning a little when your palm meets the zipper of his jeans and his swelling cock beneath. The tip of his nose digs into your cheek, one of his big hands finding your waist, trying to pull you closer, or as close as he can with the center console in the way.

"God, baby. Need you- need you so bad," he huffs, but you’re already breaking from the kiss, lifting your hips from the seat as you crawl into the space between Eddie’s warm chest and the steering wheel.

“Then you can have me,” you tell him, settling your weight in his lap, grasping around for the lever that’ll give you a little extra space. The seat rattles back until it stops with a heavy clunk, and Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet when your body lurches into his.

He won’t meet your eyes, looking out the blackened windows, checking the car like somebody’s gonna pop out from the back seat.

“What? Uh, I mean—like, here?”

You take Eddie’s face in both your hands, relishing the scratch of the sparse stubble peppering his jaw. Out of habit, his hands come to rest on your thighs, and you hum in approval.

“Whenever–“ you whisper, shifting your hips back just to bring them forward again, the crotch of your jeans meeting the bulge in his, rattling the chains hooked to his belt loops. Eddie’s neck goes taut, head pressed back against the seat.

“Wherever– “ you place your lips at the delicate skin he’s revealed, just brushing along the column of his throat. When you meet his eyes again, Eddie’s pupils are blown wide.

“And however you want me, Eddie. I’m all yours.”

���You’re all mine,” he repeats back to you, and his hands echo the sentiment, his confidence growing as he moves around to grip at your ass cheeks, pulling you more fully against him until he can grind up on you, his lips at your neck now, planting messy kisses at the edge of your throat that have you digging your fingers into his hair just to keep him there.

Your boyfriend's got a big dick—fucking hung like a horse, although he doesn't seem to know it, and he's already throbbing and heavy in his jeans, bucking his hips into you like he's trying to get you pregnant before he’s even inside you.

"Eddie," you sigh his name, just to admire the feeling of it, and he lets out a groan that has you dripping, the damp fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt and dragging over your clit with each shift of his hips.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, and you hardly notice his hands at the zipper on your jacket, trailing it down, down, down until he can slip it from your shoulders, gripping at your tits through your tank top.

"You feel so—fuck," he's cut you off mid-sentence, pulling the neckline of your top down until your breasts are free, nipples already pebbling in the cool air. Eddie pinches one of them in between two fingers, the metal of his rings biting at the other until you gasp.

"Yeah?" he repeats, harder this time, the word mumbled into your tits. Eddie's smothering himself, licking and kissing and teething his way as he moves to replace one of his hands with his mouth over the dark, stiff peak.

He sucks the bud between his lips, glides his tongue over the sensitive skin there. The sound of your moans fills the car, and suddenly the pressure of his cock isn't enough when there's so much fabric between you. You can't pull away, though, not with how his free arm has circled your waist, forcing the sway of your hips.

"Eddie," you call out again, but he just grunts, onto the other breast now, fucking devouring you in a way only he can.

He's not stopping, teeth scraping at your skin and his lips pursed, sucking the life out of you while his other hand pinches and flicks the other stiff bud, still damp with his spit.

It's almost frightening how close he's gotten you, and just from this—the movement of his hips and his worshiping mouth.

"Eddie."

There must be something different in the way you say it this time, because he listens, finally, snaking his hand down between your bodies, slipping the button on your jeans and shoving his fingers inside until they reach the apex of your aching cunt. Your vision goes foggy, on the verge of tears from the relief of something solid pressed right up against your clit.

And his mouth doesn't stray from your tits, single-minded in a way only somebody like Eddie could be, sucking at your nipples until they both shine.

His fingers curl, perfect, sitting right where you need them as you grind and grind and grind your hips, brain turning to jelly with the way he's making you feel.

You feel Eddie's teeth bite a perfect circle on the inside of your breast, and that's what pulls you under.

You're practically screaming, and Eddie still won't stop, letting you ride out the perfect feeling of him, maybe hoping you'll remember this moment the next time Steve sees you. Just the idea of meeting up with your friends again after this has you flushing so deep you think you might combust right here.

The sparks fade slowly, your pussy still shaking and empty, wet enough you're sure you've soaked Eddie's fingers and he finally relents, his plump, pink lips tracing your collar bones, stopping at the edge of your jaw. He takes the delicate skin their between his teeth and sucks, hard.

That jolts you from your stupor. You press his head back, one hand on his forehead so you can make him look you in the eyes.

"Hey—that's gonna bruise."

You're scolding has no effect; Eddie's on a different plane now, cocky from making you cum so easily and still a little peeved from earlier, pressing past your hold on him until he can reattach himself to your neck.

"Not sorry," he tells you, marking you up between staccato shifts of his hips, "wanna make sure everybody knows you're mine."

It's impenetrable logic—you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to, and you really, really don't want to when he makes his way to your mouth, kissing you, his tongue against yours and his hot, heavy breaths, one hand balled in the fabric of your tank top at the middle of your back.

"Turn around," he tells you, guiding you into compliance with his hands at your waist, and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you'd end up on the ceiling if Eddie didn't keep his grip on you, pulling you tight against him until your back meets his chest.

It’s like he's touching you everywhere, hands on your hips and your tits and pushing your hair up off your neck—looking for more skin that he hasn't painted yet—so you're not prepared when the chair falls back, left breathless and unmoored, staring at the stained upholstery on the roof of Eddie's van.

"You good?" Eddie asks in response to the gasp you let out, urging your hips into the air as he tugs your jeans and your underwear down around your thighs.

You just nod, too desperate for any explanation, to say anything at all. Eddie's turned you stupid, has you whining into his neck when you lean your head back on his shoulder, looking up at his jaw with wild, tear-filled eyes.

"Gonna ruin you for anybody else, sweetheart," he tells you over the sound of his jangling belt, his hot cock pressed against your back. "Gonna make sure you never leave me."

You nod, fucking rabid when he shifts and you can finally feel the fat tip of his dick at your entrance, smearing the first taste of his cum over your lips.

"Nobody else, Eddie," you promise him, "just you."

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, teasing it over your pussy, nudging it against your clit until you jump in his arms. He grips tighter at your waist, holding you just under your tits to keep you still.

"Promise?" he asks.

The tears that slip down your cheeks and onto his neck must be answer enough, because Eddie slides inside you, just the tip, and the relief at even this small feeling of fullness has you crying out.

Eddie's thrusts are methodical and relentless, slow at first, but they build quickly, his hips slamming into you, his grunts from exertion and from pleasure low in your ear. And you're moaning, too, like putty against him, totally enraptured as you watch the muscles in his jaw flex, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline.

He keeps hitting this spot inside you, has you full to the brim, and you're so wet you half-wonder if your pussy juice is soaking into the seat.

It feels like the van is rocking with the force of his thrusts, steam collecting around the edges of the windows from your shared breaths. It’s obscene how in to this you are, how loud it sounds, the wet squelch of your poor cunt echoing around the interior of his van.

"You're gonna cum for me, baby," he tells you, "wanna feel you squeezing my cock."

Four of his fingers meet at the top of your thighs, rubbing steady circles over your clit. You think you might be screaming.

Eddie has you cumming like you're being raptured, twitching in his lap, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, deeper than before until your vision blacks out and you can't see or feel or think of anything but perfect Eddie Munson and his perfect fucking cock.

It's dark when you come to. Maybe he fucked you blind.

Your vision returns, though, just in time. Eddie's chest heaves beneath you, and he pulls out with a grunt, his cum and yours dripping down your thighs in a sight so lurid it's got you flushing down to your neck.

That's definitely going to stain the upholstery.

Eddie doesn't seem to care, stroking his heavy hands over your thighs, pulling your clothes back into place—gentle where they had been rough, his mouth dotting soft kisses against the back of your spine.

Eddie shifts you around in his lap, let's his big eyes find yours. Your fingers twine with his, and he laughs a little when you kiss at his knuckles.

"You know," Eddie says, cheeks pink and a stupid smile on his face, "now that I think about it, Dirty Dancing might be my new favorite movie. I mean, who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze?"

[awriterinthenight]

"Is Anyone Else Joining?"-Five Hargreeves

requested: anonymous

words: 954 (sorry its short, might do a part 2 though)

warnings: bickering, siblings inviting themself, swearing, Klaus mentions something about hating gay people (its really funny in context and in character I swear), they also throw things at Five, idk but this was really funny like I laughed the whole time, its so funny and I might do a part two

summary: Five and reader plan a trip, but the Hargreeves siblings just have to crash it

Alone was a word you could not use to describe the Hargreeves siblings. Anywhere one went, another went, then another, then Klaus shows up, so then Ben shows up, and then its a family reunion at that point.

All you and Five wanted was for a day or two alone together, but his siblings had other plans. Your trip was just you two driving a few towns over to go see a museum you were dying to see. The drive there was half a day, so you would drive there, check into the hotel and sleep, then go to the museum the next morning, then drive home that night. It was very simple till the rest of the Hargreeves showed up.

"You got everything?" Five asked, leaning against the driver's side of the car, the car keys in his hand.

You threw your bag with all your clothes and everything you needed into the trunk, "That should be it, you ready to go?" You asked, opening the passenger door to get in the car.

Five followed after, "Do we really need all that? It's only two days," Five said, starting the car.

"You can never be over prepared," you stated, not seeing anything wrong with the two bags you packed for a two day trip.

"I would argue you can be overprepared, which you are," he argued back. This started a small banter between you two, not yet having left the house. You both continued to bicker until a voice startled you.

"As much as I love a little lovers quarrel, let's get this show on the road. Me and Benerino over here are excited to see where we're going."

Of course it was Klaus who was trying to ruin your trip. He managed to sneak his way into the car when you two weren't looking. And of course if he was going, so was Ben.

"Get out, Klaus," Five yelled at him, annoyed at him ruining everything.

You decided to take a nicer approach to getting Klaus to leave, "He's right Klaus, this just a two of us trip. Plus you don't even have a bag packed," you told him.

"That's where you're wrong, my psycho brother's lover. I do have a bag," he claimed, pulling out a child's backpack, "So let's go before I get hungry and have to pee again."

There seemed to be no way to get Klaus to leave, but the two of you kept trying. Unfortunately for you Diego entered the car for some god awful reason.

"Now what are you doing here?" Five complained, hitting the back of his head against the headrest in annoyance.

"Klaus said you guys were going on a trip, thought why not make it a double date, me and Lila haven't been out in awhile," he explained, but something wasn't quite right about his explanation.

You squinted your eyes at him, "Oh really, you haven't been out in so long, so you just decided to crash our trip?" you questioned.

Diego quickly broke though, "Fine," he said, admitting defeat, "I promised Lila I would take her forever ago, but I forgot, so I'm tagging along, and neither of you will tell her anything."

"Great, so our trip is now victim to my brother's dumbness," Five continued to complain, "Is anyone else joining, or can we go now."

As if the universe itself needed to annoy Five even more, Allison entered the van sitting in the third row, "Who's ready for a family vacation," she shouted, making Five groan as you held in your laughter, "What's wrong with him?"

Klaus spoked up first to explain, "Apparently this was supposed to be a "just the two of them trip", but it's going to be so much more fun with us."

"Wait, you told me this was a family trip?" Allison uttered, confused about what was happening.

Five had his head in his hands, already wanting this trip to be over, "Why me?"

As if this already ruined trip needed more people, Luther and Viktor entered the car after the trunk was slammed shut, "We're lucky we caught you, we thought you left without us," Luther said, entering the van.

"This museum seems pretty cool, you have good taste Y/N," Viktor complimented, making you let out a small chuckle.

Once Lila entered the van, sitting next to Diego, Five asked for the final time, "Is that everyone or is the Pope joining us too?"

"I would love it if he did. I have so many questions for him. First off, why do they hate gays-," Klaus started, but was cutoff by Five.

"I will kick you out of this car, if you don't stop talking," he said, now grouchy from the turn of events.

Klaus just put his hands up, acting all innocent, "Wow, someone's grouchy, this is supposed to be a fun family trip, don't be so negative," he said, acting super dramatic.

"Yeah, don't be a dick," Lila shouted at him, throwing some sort of snack she was eating at him. Which started a chorus of 'don't be an asshole' 'this is supposed to be fun' and the favorite 'my tummy is rumbly' from Klaus, who ate the snack thrown at Five that ended up on the floor.

Five let out a long sigh, "This is going to be a long trip," he whispered under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear, making you laugh. Five might've been annoyed that your trip got ruined, but seeing you laugh put a small smile on his face. Maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad. Minimum it would be a good laugh for you, and anything that made you happy, made Five happy.

Current Taglist for all fics (ask to be added)

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