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prettyoatmeal · 2 years ago

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MORE John Price Headcanons While You're Dating

Part 2 to this!

Since SO many people (like 4) were asking for me to do a part 2, here it is! Enjoy! A/N at the end!

Genre: Fluff! Smut after the buffer.

Summary: Just some more headcanons I've thought of. GN reader, no mentions of Y/N.

Content Warnings: NSFW After buffer.

Masterlist here!

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Big big big big boy.

He's quite muscular, got that meat on him (I mean, hell. Look at those shoulders). This means he needs to buy pretty large sized clothing for himself when he's out shopping.

This also means that they're a perfect size for you, able to very easily slide into a shirt of his and just wear that with how long it is on you.

They're just so comfy and baggy and cover you up so well, they're nice for when you don't feel like wearing something form fitting or if yours are in the wash.

John would definitely approve.

They'd smell like him, like home, how could you not wear them every now and again?

If you asked really nicely, John would get you a personal travel bottle of his cologne to keep on you at all times.

If you two are deployed, then he'd definitely pack a few extra shirts and sweaters of his because he knows you'll want some with you in the barracks. Maybe sleep in them or use them as a pillow case.

Seeing you in his clothes would definitely rile him up, seeing how the shirt gathers around your hips especially would leave a lasting effect on him. Expect his hands to be all over you.

You'd get the same reaction from him from wearing something more form fitting.

Wearing something that hugs your curves and shows off how great you look?

Oh boy.

It would drive him mad.

Would purposefully buy you shirts or those bike shorts in a half size too small and blame it on forgetting your size or being an 'accident' just to watch you try them on and gaze how the fabric squeezes around your chest and thighs.

Would definitely get heart eyes from that.

"John, are you sure this is my size?" as you finally pull the shirt over your chest, feeling how constricting the fabric is.

"Is or isn't, you look divine!"

If you wear a proper compression shirt, he'd probably die on the spot.

please please please please wear one.

No matter how thick or thin you are, he'd love every bit of how you look, and he'd definitely make that well known to you.

Definitely the kind to love playing with your hair, especially if it's long. He'd love braiding it, brushing it, running his fingers through it, literally anything,

Loves feeling how soft it is right after you wash it.

Will probably offer to help you dry it.

"Allow me," typa guy for sure.

He'd also be very big on communication.

He's had a lot of experience and has realised that bottling feelings up and keeping them locked away can only make the situations worse.

If you notice he's particularly upset, would always vent to you (If you're comfy w that of course) just to get how he's feeling out of the way, hoping it won't interfere with anything else.

Not one to pull the silent treatment, in fact, he hates it. If you're the kind to pull the silent treatment, he would egg it out of you one way or another.

"I'm too old for this, spit it out," in the kindest way possible.

He knows how draining it is physically and mentally to keep your emotions to yourself, so he'd always convince you to finally let it all loose.

Please tell him how you're feeling, especially if he's the person you're upset with. It breaks his heart seeing you upset and will 100% do everything in his power to make the situation right again.

The type to get grumpy or emotional when he's sleepy. Sometimes he just needs a soft chest or soft tummy to lay his head on and he'll be out like a light.

If you would let him sleep on top of you, that is. All that muscle would be pretty heavy so unless he knew you could take it, little spoon would do just fine for him.

Yeah, he'd love being little spoon. Loves feeling your arms pulling him deeper into your chest.

John is pretty dominant in a traditional sense, very masculine, a fierce leader, knows exactly what he wants and how he's going to get it, but he's also a massive softie and will do anything and everything to have your full attention when he's in the mood.

Yes, he wants to be little spoon, yes, he will also lead an army of men through a battlefield. They exist.

__________________

NSFW

He's an ass man, 100%.

Y'know how I said he'll 'accidentally' buy smaller sizes just to see how the material so perfectly forms itself to your curves?

Yeah, this is why.

Will grab and slap your ass at every chance he gets (with your consent, ofc) even in the most innocent of situations.

Whether you're bending down to pick up something you've dropped, over the kitchen counter while pulling something down from the top shelves, or just leaning over the dinner table to wipe it down, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Jolting you forward.

Loves to hear that high pitched, surprised shriek coming from your mouth at the sudden impact of his hand on your behind.

Backshots with him would be crazy, fingers intertwined with your hair, pushing your face into the mattress as he pounds into you from behind.

Doggy or reverse cowgirl would be his favourite positions because he just gets that full view of your ass jiggling with each bounce or each thrust from his hips.

Definitely wouldn't be gentle, but wouldn't be too rough either, that perfect balance.

Maybe a bit rougher when he's desperate or releasing some pent up stress, but all in all, he wouldn't dare to hurt you unless its the very occasionally slap on the ass or thighs.

I feel like it would be out of his comfort zone as well. Seeing how prominent his hand prints can be after spanking, seeing them on your face or anywhere else would probably make him upset during the process.

Spanking would be the furthest he'd go, making sure the skin is red and raw.

Would stop if he notices you're crying. Breaks his heart.

On the contrary, will gladly make you cry with his head between your legs. Feeling how you twitch against his mouth every time he makes you cum brings a smile to his lips.

VERY focused on making you cum first. Very focused on making sure you're comfortable ad satisfied all the way.

Definitely prefers to be dominant in bed, likes having that control.

Daddy kink probably.

He probably wouldn't make too much noise in bed, maybe a few groans and whines. But would for sure be a dirty talker.

"Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it?"

"Sucking daddy's cock- fuck, -so well, Gorgeous.."

"So fucking tight, aint ya. Mmh, fuck, keep squeezing around me like that, Dove."

Will only let out a classic moan for when he cums.

"That's it, gonna fill you up so good- ahh~!"

Surprising at first since he'd never made all that much sound before but the more you know.

Its totally hot though.

King of aftercare, tbh.

Would gladly carry you everywhere after you've become too sore to walk anywhere yourself.

Even if you can walk after a pounding, will still carry you. Gotta be treated like royalty after letting him slam into your holes like that.

Boy, did it feel good.

***************

I somehow accidentally deleted the first draft of this I made so this turned out a lot shorter than I first wanted it to :(

Also why it took so long lol. I swear, idk why my Tumblr is bugging so much but losing like 2k words after I've worked on it all day literally broke my heart.

Probably don't expect a part 3, but after having a few days to myself, my motivation has defo returned haha.

Goodnight!! <33

Tags: @mind-nine @tapioca-marzipan @underthestarwars @avalkyrieofparis

*************** DISCLAIMER Under no circumstances do I give permission to copy, repost, or manipulate my work in any way. I am not comfortable with this. If you wish to translate my work, message me privately. My inbox is always open.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #John Price x reader #Captain Price x Reader #John Price Imagines #Captain Price Imagines #John Price Fluff #Captain John Price Fluff #MW2 x reader

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macravishedbymactavish · 2 years ago

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Hugging Headcanons (TF141 + König x GN!Reader)

Turns out, I'm better at full paragraph writing then headcanons, but we do our best in this house.

TW: Light swearing (like 2-3 words at most), little bit of cheeky adult(ish. Major ISH) behaviour, and mentions of anxiety/overthinking

Soap:

If he had it his way, he'd be hugging you constantly. Loves (and I mean LOVES) physical contact and just being close to you in general.

He is also very vocal about this. From the beginning of your relationship he's made it known that he L I V E S for physical contact.

His favourite way to hug you is from behind, especially when you're not expecting it. The little jump then relaxing when you realize it's him brings him so much joy.

100% content with holding you from behind like this, chin resting on your shoulder as you do things.

Cooking? He'll be there, likely stealing some of the food before it's served (and laughing when he gets smacked with the spoon).

Paperwork? He'll try to hold you with one arm and write with the other, until Ghost or Price gives him shit because you're both now working at half your normal pace.

Anywhere, anytime. He's going to try to hug you.

If at any point you stop and think: "does Soap want a hug" the answer is yes. Always yes.

Soap always wants a hug, please hug him.

Ghost:

Would either be 100% hesitant and unsure of what he's doing, or 100% confident and assertive. No inbetween for this.

I feel he doesn't dislike physical contact (quite the opposite actually), but rather just hasn't had any physical or emotional connections in quite a while. So long in fact that he's grown fine without it. Until you came around.

Like context pre-hug aside, he probably did the cliche "tense right up then relax once he realizes he's safe" the first time you hugged him. Now he's hooked on the warmth of your body, the way you feel pressed into him, and how automatically relaxed he gets while being hugged.

Since he strikes me as someone who isn't huge on PDA (he's a rather private person) as much as he wants to hold you 24/7, he reserves this for moments when it's just the two of you.

The exception to the rule being stressful missions or any time when he was concerned for your wellbeing. He will gladly hold you close to remind himself that you're okay. No matter where you are, just a reminder that you're still here. You're still his. He pays no mind to anyone else in that moment outside of you and him.

He would NOT be open to questions or explanations the first time this happens, especially if it's in front of the guys. Yes, he's proud of you. Yes he's happy your his. No, they don't need to know every detail of your relationship.

Price:

I can see him being the "little bit obnoxious but a lot of love bear hug" type. Like you can't breathe but that's okay, he loves you a lot.

Much like Ghost - not huge on PDA. Partially because he likes to keep his personal life and work life seperate. But also a professional thing.

He leads a team, he has to keep up appearances. He also doesn't feel like dealing with his sergeants teasing the life out of him for being a softie.

He's also not a teenager anymore, his "I need to touch you at every minute of every hour" days are over. He's perfectly content holding you when appropriate/when he can.

He tries his best to balance work and home. Hugs and loving talks before bed are a MUST in this household. Of course you'll cuddle up in bed, but he makes a point to love up on you a bit more while you're both awake and can remember it.

Like everyone on this list: long hugs before he's deployed and when he first comes home. But I feel like his are more worth mentioning? He's been in the military either the entire time or majority of the time you've been with him. So because of that, you've sacrificed so much for this relationship so he could pursue his career/what feels right. The least he can do is set aside time for just you, to let you feel even a whisper of closure before he goes/when he returns.

I just imagine in the kitchen, tight hug. Ready to say goodbye, as he whispers stuff to you. Like whether it be bits of your vows, quotes he knows you live by, or just how much he adores you for everything. He would make an absolute point to give you another piece of his soul to treasure before he leaves (we can get into this more later if wanted)

Gaz

Another very playful soul. Not outward on PDA, but won't give up a chance to hug you quick or keep a hand on the small of your back.

You rank pretty high on the better things he has in life (if not on top), of course he's going to show you off. He landed a partner who is gorgeous inside and out.

As shown in game, he is a cheeky mf. So expect this to translate into the physical contact.

Mid-hug he may grab a handful of your ass, or start peppering kisses to your neck if hugging you from behind - then pretend like nothing happened (obviously in private. Time and place for everything folks).

I can see him being big on having his arm around your shoulders quite often. Like in resuraunts, resting his arm on the back of your chair, or doing the same while sitting on the couch with you. Just casual contact, a small flex of "they're mine, crazy right?"

Expect to be pulled into a tight hug, then dipped during your first kiss at your wedding. A little bit of flair and spice on your big day. Especially considering he got so flustered after your second or third date, that instead of going in for a goodbye/goodnight kiss he chickened out and opted to hug you close instead.

You melted when he told you that one night, when recounting the many stories and memories from your relationship.

So hugs, needless to say are pretty symbolic in your relationship

König

(Side note: I live and breathe the fact that his social anxiety is canon. I've never related to a character faster)

As anyone with social anxiety knows: it's not about whether you like physical contact or not -- it's normally the overthinking about "Do I initiate? Do I not? Do I pull away first? Am I hugging them for too long? Is this weird?"

He's very sweet overall, but quite awkward and overthinks hugging you initially. But wishes so much that you'd hug him over and over again.

He almost melts the first time you do, but is another "cliche freezes then relaxes" because he's so nervous. He really enjoys your company, he doesn't want to mess this up. He wants this to feel as nice and loving for you as it does for him.

Needless to say, it takes a little while and a lot of reassurance for him to get comfortable hugging you first. But when this day comes, oh boy watch out.

He will hug you at any opportunity. From behind hugs, side hugs, bear hugs, quick hugs, hugs where you do that little sway thing, hugs where you lightly rub the other persons back. He loves them all equally.

He especially loves hugs where you rest your face against his chest, and relax into him. Letting all the stress from your day fade for even a moment (because that's how he has always felt when you hugged him)

He found it both comical and endearing when you dragged a chair from across the room to in front of him to stand on so you could either (depending on your height and the chair)

1) Press your face into his neck without him having to bend right down

2). Let him rest his head against your chest and relax.

Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, but that's the memory he finds himself thinking back to when he can't sleep during a long deployment. Or when he needs a quick pick-me-up after a long day.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

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reaper-chan666 · 1 year ago

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Since the poll said longer posts with multiple types of Hybrid! Readers interacting with Taskforce 141, I'll start slow, and gain speed as I go. I'll start with Lioness! Reader, Bat! Reader, and go from there! I'm sorry if it seems short still!

Lioness Hybrid! Reader who doesn't like it when people assume they're weak, since they're smaller than the male Lion Hybrids, is automatically weaker. But they've never been allowed to go into the field to prove otherwise. Instead, they get placed on desk at every base, essentially becoming a glorified secretary, and it pisses them off. Over time they become irritable, then they start becoming increasingly agitated, until it gets to the point, that they're just flat out aggressive, and get traded around to different squads since people get tired of dealing with them.

Until John Price of Taskforce 141 sees their file, and decides to transfer them over to base. Immediately, all the personnel on base is put on edge. They've heard the stories of this hybrid, and they don't want to deal with that. Within a week of Lioness! Reader transferring, Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap notice that the hybrid seems agitated when they aren't put on missions or on regular training, so they have a small meeting, and decide to test out the abilities of Lioness! Reader. After Lioness! Reader is tested by doing the training regimen that Ghost follows, it's clear to the four men, that while the hybrid is smaller, they're faster and stronger than they seem, so Ghost makes it a point to read up on Lioness Hybrids, and comes up with a training regimen that will allow reader to train to their fullest potential. And it works, the hybrid quickly loses the aggressive behaviors once they start training with the four men, and soon they go on missions with the boys, getting results with brutal efficiency.

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

Bat Hybrid! Reader, who is forced into military sleep schedules, and gets sick easily because of the stress it puts on their bodies. Gaz is visiting the base that the hybrid is at, and immediately notices how bad it is, so he calls Price and explains what's going on, Price then calls Laswell, and there is an emergency transfer for the poor hybrid.

Bat! Reader is allowed to set their sleep schedule to follow their bodies needs, and it starts a discussion about meeting Hybrids needs in the military, and not always forcing them to conform to things, especially not things that will cause their bodies harm, like sleep, diet, and training.

Bat! Reader, who shows their strengths once they're recovered, being able to find things in absolute darkness, flying up to around 60 miles per hour on a regular mission, to 100 miles per hour in an emergency. Bat! Reader has an amazing sense of smell, and uses echolocation to help track targets and squad members alike, and being able to accurately differentiate who's who. But that sense of smell comes at a cost. Bat! Reader has issues with strong odors, causing the guys to get better ventilation installed in the barracks.

Bat! Reader, who likes to sleep upside down at times, so Price installs a pull up bar in their room, with a soft cushion on the ground underneath it, just in case they were to fall. They tend to get anxious alone when they're trying to fall asleep alone, so typically the guys will sit in there with them until they fall asleep, unintentionally starting a bunch of break times that forces the guys to slow down and breathe.

I ran out of ideas, it's almost 6 am and I have a migraine, I'll post more when my brain doesn't feel like mush.

Give me more Hybrid suggestions, or tell me if you want to see more Snake! Lioness! Or Bat! Readers again.

Bye!

#cod #task force 141 #reaper chan's writings #hybrid reader #FANON NOT CANON #tf 141 x reader

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lunamoonbby · 2 months ago

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Cult!141 x Fem!Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT MDNI

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Dark Content, Manipulation, allusions to past abuse very brief not in depth, female reader, swearing, pregnancy, birth, poly relationships, smut, Cult AU, the use of lord in terms to worship, Price being referred to as Father

If you or a loved one is experiencing abuse, know that there is help, and please help anyone that you know to help them escape from that abuse.

⭐️Author's Note: The religion that the villagers follow is not defined, but it is NOT associated with Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other type of religion there is⭐️

Chapter 5: The Butcher

After y/n left, John phoned the tavern "hello this is Kyle speaking. How may I help you?" Kyle answered the phone. "Did you deal with the person who yelled at our darling?" John looking trought the window. "Yes, we're holding him in our basement, waiting for your instructions, anyways how was morning prayers with y/n?" John smiles, "it went really well she brought four wild flowers as an offering today, I told her that love will find her, silly little girl didn't even ask who or what we follow and give praise too, she's just the perfect devoted follower. She told me that she want to use your taverns kitchen to make a brisket pot pie, please let her use that kitchen, and don't worry she'll meet Simon too, cause I plan on buying the nicest brisket he has in the market and that he's welcomed in for our little feast that birdy is doing for us." Kyle loving the sound of that idea, "I'll be sure to tell Johnny about tonight's supper. We'll supply the rest of the ingredients." "Perfect. I'll see you and Johnny tonight, bye." Price hangs up the phone.

Price lockes up the church and makes his way towards Simon's Butcher Shop. "Simon, good morning." Price enters the butcher shop. "Jonathan, I wasn't expecting to see you until later on tonight. Good morning." Simon puts down his meat cleaver and turns around, taking off his gloves, putting them in the sink, and washing his hands, "what can I do for you, my friend?" "I would like the best premium brisket you have to offer." Price said, looking at his display case. "Why would you need that you don't cook and you definitely don't to errands for Johnny and Kyle." Simon said while preparing the brisket to be packaged. John smiled, "you're right but there is this new little birdy in town she ran away from her abusive ex, and well she wants to make a brisket pot pie as a thank you and you're invited, I expect you to show up to Johnny and Kyle's tavern for this supper.

Simon hummed, "I'll be there." Simon handing John the brisket. John smiled, "Great, I'll see you tonight then." John left the butcher shop to go to the tavern to drop off the brisket. Simon going back to work, he hears his bells jingle and two people come in, one he's seen before, and the other a new face, a woman, must be the girl john talked about. The first customer got their order and they seemed to recognize who this new face is, "if you're expecting a hand-out from this shop then you better leave and don't come back until you have money." The customer said. "OI! don't tell me how to run my damn shop, the price is $100." A mask man spoke up. "But I dont have that kind of money, and you're charging $50 more than the actual price!" Exclaimed the customer. "If you can't buy it, then come back when you have the money for it." Simon said when he already packaged up the meat, "now what can I do for you, Lovie?" "I just needed directions to get to the Tavern Inn." Y/n said, looking down at her hands. "It's three buildings down from the Tavern Restaurant." "Ah, thank you, kind sir." Y/n leave the butcher shop to head back to the Inn, but before she does, she'll be making a quick visit to the tavern restaurant to ask Johnny and Kyle if she could use their kitchen.

"I'm just glad that she didn't ask for any freebies cause she got freebies at the tavern, and some guy spoke up about it, and he ended up paying for her drink." The customer said. Simon stalking towards the customer, "Is that so?" "Ye-" Simon knocks out the customer, ties them up, and draggs them to his basement. "Serves you right for yelling at my lovie and telling me how to run my shop." Simon looked at the unconscious customer and then left the basement to head back to the shop.

"Johnny, Kyle?" Y/n called out "bonnie!-" Johnny appeared. "AH, you scared me." Y/n clutching her chest looking at Johnny "ah sorry bonnie Lass didn't mean to. What can I do for ya?" Johnny said, wiping down the counters, "I would like to borrow your kitchen. I want to make you, Kyle, and Father Price a brisket pot pie as a thank you for helping me out." Y/n fiddling with her fingers. "Of course you can, finally something other than my own cooking or Kyle's." Johnny looked happy since he'll taste his bonnies cooking. "Great, thank you. I'll be back later on. I want to rest up before I start cooking." "Of course, see you later." Johnny waving goodbye.

Taglist is open comment if you would like to be added

@yourloverslost @tabbslouuformer @angelrissa @freefallingup13 @readingcatinacorner @sylvanasthebansheequeen @casualunknownrunaway @thatpersonnamedrook @rip-cod-brainrot @hoodiepandaninja16 @spacecrawllerr

#simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x y/n #john price x reader #price x reader #john price x you #kyle garrick x y/n #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz x reader #soap x y/n #soap x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny mactavish x reader #poly!141 #cult!141

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jamiebluewind · 7 months ago

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Eclipse the kitten update

(please don't glitch tumblr it's the tenth time I've tried!!!)

Welp! Winter's boy has a respiratory infection. It was causing him to wheeze so to the vet we went! Luckily it wasn't a diaphram issue (which had us worried because of his umbilical hernia). His hernia also came up normal on his x-rays.

(X-rays left out because might bother people, but I can send them on request)

He's on meds several times a day and taking them like a champ, but had to be put in a pen with limited free playtime (because nothing will stop Mr Indestructible from running around the house with all the grace of a car with no breaks). We DID get a reply after just a week from a really nice person who was going to give us one (shocked us let me tell ya because it was BIG dog sized). Unfortunately, they left it outside for us to pick up and someone else just... took it. Right out of their yard. And since all we had was a small cat carrier to keep him in (which was kinda cruel for more than a day or two tops), we ordered a cat playpen that we got for a decent price. We kept looking until it got here, but no luck. Still! It's a nice playpen and we have it set up so he doesn't have to jump if he doesn't want to (plus more vertical to enjoy later on). Sarah's mom also let us borrow her water fountain!

We went to a new vet as ours was booked up (and he had already been wheezing a day). Everyone basically fell in love with him instantly. He left with a little toy from the tech, they gave Winter a jar of honey (one of the people in the office has bees and they wanted to give her something for caring about a kitten that most wouldn't have despite him having a treatable condition), and they've been checking in on how he is recovering (very well since I first typed this actually). He's basically got an entire vet office wrapped around his little paw.

Also, the non-profit we're taking him to for his surgery had a cancelation and his got moved up to the 12th! Counting down the days yall.

Because I gotta kinda mention it, this hit us where it hurts. Between the vet visit and testing, the pen, and the estimated cost for the surgery and followup, it's gonna cost us more than $2k (as long as nothing ELSE goes wrong). We're lucky that we're all super careful with our money, but there's only so much we can save up with three people below the poverty line. Still worth it though. I mean, look at this doofus

He is so stubborn that we can't leave scratch posts upright because he keeps doing THIS! XD

I'm linking Winter's paypal, but I 1000% understand if you can't help out. Still, a reblog and a word or three mean a LOT to all of us so if you got a minute, I'd love some new post additions to show Winter.

(Truth be told, the only reason all the updates are posted on my tumblr is because I'm the longest winded out of the three of us and I take like 5 billion pictures. XD )

Speaking of, there WOULD be a bonus pic of him and his sister (Melanite, aka Miel) playing under my chair as my cat (Danny) looks on from a safe place, but tumblr kept glitching when I added it.

Edit: surgery update

#cats #kitten #eclipse the kitten #umbilical hernia #respiratory infection #sick pets #pet illness #pet surgery mention #vet bill #finances #pet expenses #vet #tumblr glitch

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thephant0menace · 1 year ago

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| Captain John Price head cannons

Being in a relationship with Price

Warnings: fem!reader x Price, strong language, mentions of sex, oral sex, dilf price😏

This man wakes up ridiculously early.

For no reason at all…just likes an early start.

Although the military does train you to do so.

He enjoys working out in the morning then making coffee and reading the newspaper, quite possibly also having a quick smoke…I mean it’s Price, what did you expect?

Old man core💖

Because of this you’ve developed a similar life style.

Wake up with him, work out and then enjoy an early breakfast, curled up with him while he flicks through the newspaper.

Price is a very affectionate man when it comes to you.

He enjoys cuddling with you and just laying in bed together.

He likes having you curled up on his chest.

The soft skin to skin contact is very soothing and therapeutic for him.

Especially after a long and intense mission.

It’s very relaxing to have you cuddled up to him while the adrenalines still pumping through his veins.

He’s the type to walk around with no shirt on for the good majority of the day.

No shirt, just sweatpants.

I don’t think anyone’s complaining though…

This man was destined to be a dad.

10/10 dilf material.

He does the little dad stance while watching the tv.

HE WILL NOT SIT DOWN.

Just stands there quietly and watches whatever’s on.

“John, darling, you know you can sit and watch with me…”

“Nah, nah, ‘bout to have a shower.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

“I know.”

If you have kids, when he’s working out the kids will sit on his back while he does push ups.

They find it absolutely hilarious.

He adores his kids.

100% has photos of them in his wallet and vest pockets to show off to 141.

He’s just as bad, if not worse, with the dad jokes as Simon.

John loves taking you on romantic dates whenever he can.

He’s a very romantic man when it comes to you.

Especially after he’s been away for so long.

Even if it’s just at home…he loves to spoil you.

He’s really good at planning nice dates for the two of you.

And he goes all out as well…

Fancy dinner, red wine, candles lit, lighting dimmed, and then good sex.

Price is a proud pussy eater.

He absolutely loves eating you out and will do it for hours and hours on end if you let him.

“Fuck, John. Please-“ you whine out, tugging at his hair.

You were so overstimulated, you had lost count of how many orgasms John had pulled from you at this point.

“Just one more, darlin’. You can do it.” He mumbles into your clit.

He also has a thing for leaving beard burns in between your thighs.

He thinks it makes you look impossibly more sexy, in addition to the pretty little love bites he leaves trailing up your thighs.

A/N: I’m very tempted to do a seperate list of headcannons of the cod boys with kids cause omggg. But let me know what you guys want.

ALSO!!!! A little notice because I’ve started a Post+ for anyone interested in some bonus content. I’m currently working on a special mini fic of Ghost which is very exciting. I’ll release a teaser soon for anyone interested.

Hope you guys are all doing super well, love you lots <3

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xo-cod · 1 year ago

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Hi my love! Hope you’re doing well 💕 no pressure, but if you were taking requests, would you be able to do a blurb of the 141 men learning how to braid their daughter’s hair? I’ve been reading your girl dad fics and it makes me so soft!!!! Imagining these burly guys trying to figure out little girl braids makes me laugh lol.

Again I love you blog, you’re incredible 💕 hope you have an amazing day 💕

hi lovely, you're so kind ily 🥹🩷 hope you're doing well! <3 this was so so cute omg, i loved this so bad 😭

i hope this was along the lines of what you wanted :")

price: "goddamn it, not again" lowkey getting very frustrated with himself because it's not turning out the way he wants it to be and he's a perfectionist. he's already run the brush through her hair gently for the umpteenth time, causing her to grumble and wanting to go play instead. but he holds her back carefully, determined to make her braids the prettiest anyone has ever seen. he holds her hair band between his lips as he frowns at the braid again.

"just a second, honey" it's loose and he doesn't know how to tighten it but he's determined. nobody is moving an inch until he perfects that braid. his back curved slightly uncomfortable and he's definitely going to get neck pain, bending a little down to get the best access to her head and he does finally manage to get it accurate. it only took an hour but he's very proud of himself :")

simon: "this bit.... goes underneath right? over the top, underneath the side, down back under.... piece of cake, honey" simon is a dedicated man, his tongue peeking out from his lips as he tried his very hardest to memorise what he had learnt from a youtube video. his daughter sat between his huge thighs, his big fingers working her hair very delicately in order not to pull on any strands. he has the hair grips secured between his lips, eyes narrowed very carefully as he braids her hair trying to get all of the hair. he is a man on a mission and he will carry out the task to the best of his ability.

"bloody hell, that took it out of me" he finally lets out a relieved sigh at his masterpiece, there might be a few strands sticking out and the braid might look a little lopsided but it's unique :") only to have his daughter shake her head once causing the braid to tumble down and his face in pure utter shock and disbelief

gaz: "keep your head straight okay, honey?" gaz should def open a hair place, he's already mastered the technique of braiding from his mom especially because his hair type is different and requires a certain amount of care. so he knows exactly how to braid, call it his secret talent ;) lowkey finds it therapeutic and will 100% decorates his girl's hair with different clips and grips, whatever her little heart desires. he loves brushing his fingers through her locks and he always manages to get the parting accurate on the first time. which saves a ton of tantrums on her end.

"my beautiful baby girl" best believe he's whipping out the camera to take pictures of her hair and send it to you, marvelling at how gorgeous she looks. he's all smug when she wants to come to him for her hair but it bites him back in the ass when he's half dressed needing to leave the house in five minutes to head to bade only to be tugged by his child by the wrist to have her hair braided in that specific way she loves.

soap: "christ sake, why would they add so many pieces?" soap definitely underestimated himself, he didn't mean to blow his own horn but now that he has, he doesn't not accept defeat easily at all. will memorise that youtube video back to front, his daughter seated in his lap both of the criss crossed as he works delicately. his face set intently, eyes slightly narrowed as he braids. he's confused by the movement but gets the hang of it after a while and then it's like second nature, he's so happy with himself.

"look at you, little lass. my sweet girl" his little girl perched in his lap as he tightens the braided pony tails, gushing at how cute she is and how perfect the braids he had done on her hair came out. will 100% parade her around so everyone can see how perfect his braids are but no touching his little girl or her hair at all, under any circumstances <3

#asks #kyle gaz garrick #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #dad!141 x reader #dad!simon riley #dad!price #dad!gaz #dad!soap

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centrally-unplanned · 2 months ago

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I have been taking my fit-and-starts second stab at playing Victoria 3 - I did a Japan run, and a Korea run, and this is a very frustrating game. It bothers me because its deep core is probably the best of Vicky so far. It understands that the appeal of these game is Factorio-esque; you want to build up this cool little supply chain that goes chug chug chug I make-a the widgets and numbers go up.

Vicky 1 was ofc just pure cheese; most goods could just be dumped on the global market with no buyer and do fine, certain goods were just hard-coded to be profitable, and insane things like 100% of import costs coming out of the government's budget pushed you towards a kind of samey, slapdash hyper-industrial mercantilism. Vicky 2 was the opposite - so opaque in its function that you as the player didn't really have agency over it, as the vaunted World Market just does its thing. Your strategies "worked" no matter what you really did though, so you just kind of followed basic "build factory in same territory as RGO" logic and let the system run itself. Both of these systems made for functional-but-not-exceptional gameplay loops.

Vicky 3 is more complicated than its predecessors, but in ways that makes how the economic system functions more concrete. You have local prices for goods, wider markets with clearly labelled high-and-low demand, and clearly defined "production methods" where buildings can commit to better tech at the cost of different inputs. As a player you can build factories, farms, and mines of a dozen different types anywhere, so you always have agency - and those new production lines gives you goals. Invent steel tools, so now your tooling workshops can make more tools but will need steel instead of iron as a input? You can switch over the lines...but make sure you have enough steel mills! And oh, that drives down the price of tools once you do it...so now your cattle ranches can justify switching their line to tool-assisted butchers! And now you make more meat, your local cost is low, but oh in the Russian market meat prices are high - as shown by that little gold coin icon it - so you can export it now!

Things are looped, contingent, and based on your decisions. It is simple, of course, you are making lots of little, easy calls that build you up over time - which is what makes it fun. It has to be simple, because otherwise it is a dizzyingly complex web of a million markets, it would never work. You feel like you are actually building the economy without being overwhelmed by it.

Which would be great if it wasn't stapled to one of the worst political & military systems I have ever seen, played with a UI God abandoned in shame.

So you can join the markets of other countries? Like you have your own market as a default, so you can click the "market" tab and it will show you how much wheat your country makes, how much iron it buys, etc. All good. But if you join another country's market, now that tab shows the collective market, everyone's wheat, iron, etc. Useful but like obiously I am not playing the market, I am playing the country; so how do I see how much wheat I make?

You can't.

You actually can't! Idk maybe they patched it in recently, but I couldn't find it and all the reddit threads I google from 2023 say you can't. Are you planning to declare independence and wanna see if you make enough food for your people? Too bad! Fuck around and find out I guess. I saw one thread where someone's advice was "save the game, declare independence, screenshot the new market, then reload". Quantum timeline level of experimental design going on in these guys' Bureau of Labor Statistics.

It isn't even the gameplay implications that bother me the most - this is a game about building an economy. You want to see what you built! And they stop you. It is baffling, and is just the tip of the iceberg - there are so many things like this. One of my favourites is that your "construction sector" is a hybrid of government and private projects, sometimes it is you spending the money, sometimes investors. Okay, cool, when it is you spending it comes out of your treasury, right? Well, yes, but the way they show that is when everyone spends it comes out of your treasury, but the private sector reimburses you for their share. Which you will not understand your first ~3 games, and instead just see huge red numbers on your budget screen and panic. And you are just left asking why? Why do that?

Beyond UI, the political system is just half-baked. It is "interest groups", each has baseline popularity, and verrrry slowly that changes as your economic structure changes (or revolutions). And to change laws you initiate campaigns to drum up support with roll dice to pass/fail. Which isn't a bad baseline, but it completely fails to capture how political change occurred in the era. Like the Meiji Restoration is "done" by you putting industrialists in power and kicking out the "landlords" lol. Japan didn't have industrialists then! Landlords are the ones who did the restoring of Meiji.

More importantly than inaccurate it isn't fun - to change a law you just arrange a coalition in power than kind of backs it, then pray you get good random events. In Vicky 2 they had a lot more railroad-style decisions and stuff you could do to capture history, "hit this military score benchmark and launch a civil war" kind of stuff. It wasn't complicated, and it was less organic, but it was pro player agency, you could take active steps to achieve it. In Vicky 3 it is mainly waiting or cheese - people often talk about getting the Meiji Restoration by deleting all your armies at game start and launching a civil war immediately that the AI will lose by default. A checkbox decision is better than that!

The military mechanics are the epitome of their "systems over gameplay" approach. What they wanted to do was two-fold; reduce micro in Vicky 2 where it is "click army to province" over and over, and "balance" the game by making combat not reward micro where players could cheese the AI. Very valid goals, I totally support it. What they did was built a system where armies auto-move to "fronts" and their AI can't handle it, but now as a player my agency over my units is gone so I can't fix it. The UI is awful, you can't even really tell armies to attack or defend, they just ~whim. You have to do a lot of clicking to fight the system - yes it is less clicking than Vicky 2, but in Vicky 2 that wasn't mentally taxing, it was fun enough to wage the war you wanted to wage. Everything was concrete and in your control.

Here...look, as Korea I declared war on China to gain independence. Then the UK - not my ally, just separately, declared war on China as well. So now we are kindaaaa on the same side? At which point half my army auto-reployed to Hong Kong because a "new front" had "appeared". One my one boat. Then the UK declared war on me as well and then 50% of my army was fighting the UK in the South China Sea alongside the Russians (???) while the other half of my army is sitting there at home facing the Qing troops along the Yalu River going "bro, wtf?". At one point a newly spawned army of mine tried to auto-redeploy to Senegal.

All of this is just so preventable - you wanna reduce micro? Make combat provinces really big. You just invade "Manchuria", no clicking from Jilin to Mukden, and have bordering armies support each other defensively or something like that so you don't have to dash back and forth. Don't try to make your AI "do it for you" because it clearly can't and you want to play your own game. I'm sure the above will get better as I learn the system but I can just see the hundreds of players who saw this system and insta-quit, because until you "understand" it, it stabs you in the back. Not what you want out of a game.

Anyway enough me whinging about the game for way too long - the fundamentals are strong in the end. I will test out mods, I could see an overhaul mod really fixing everything except maybe the combat (and then you just cope). I definitely want it to work, the potential is high.

#victoria 3 #paradox love-hate blog

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darkshelbyfiction · 8 months ago

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The Price to Pay (Cillian Murphy Blurb)

Warning: Dubious Consent

When you arrived in New York, at the tender age of eighteen, you never thought that life could be so cruel. You had just completed your freshman year, and an internship at a top-notch talent agency seemed like the perfect opportunity to gain some real-world experience.

You were keen to get your foot in the door of the acting world, having a fondness for drama throughout your adolescence. Who knew that this internship would plunge you into the depths of a depraved, immoral world in which you were nothing more than a plaything for the rich and famous?

"You know how women in this business get ahead, don't you?" your employer , a sleazy, overweight man named Harold, leered at you during your first week at the agency. "It's all about who you know and what you're willing to do for them," he said, suggestively licking his lips and letting his eyes roam freely over your petite figure.

"I am not going to do this kind of thing. I never even had a boyfriend before. This is disgusting!" you told Harold, thinking that this would shut him up but, much to your surprise, a week later, he made you a proposal.

"I have a client who is rather famous . I think he could help boost your career. I just need a small favor in return," he said with a sly smile.

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as your gut twisted in dread.

"What kind of small favor?" you cautiously asked and Harold became rather direct.

" Well, that client of mine has requested a meeting with you. Unfortunately, he cannot keep his hands off young, attractive girls like yourself and you are most certainly his type. And if you want to get anywhere in this industry, you need to play the game."

"So, you're offering me a choice between my integrity and my career aspirations? That's just great." You muttered, feeling a heavy weight settle in the pit of your stomach.

"Come on Y/N, all you need to do is spread your legs for two hours or so and let him stick his prick inside you and then you'll be on your way to stardom," Harold said with a drunken grin.

You were disgusted at the thought, but you were also aware of your own naivety. You only had $100 in your bank account, and you couldn't afford to pay your rent or tuition. You knew that if you didn't take this job, you'd be back at square one.

"Okay , I'll do it," you said reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper, causing Harold to grin triumphally before setting up the date.

"If you see Lisa, she will tell you what to expect. She slept with him a couple of times before to get parts in movies," Harold added and it was indeed what you did.

Lisa was just one year older than you and had acted in several movies and Cillian was one of them. She too had sex with influential men to get ahead in her career. She looked young, but her eyes held a thousand stories you could never compete with, and you were grateful to have her guidance.

"He was the first guy I ever slept with. I had just turned 18. It was on his 46th birthday and Harold organised it," Lisa began, her voice barely above a whisper.

"And you never had sex before?" you asked Lisa , your voice wavering slightly as you struggled to process this new information.

She chuckled lightly and shook her head. "No, I was as nervous as you are and I think that is what gets him off the most. He likes being the first ," Lisa shared, her voice monotonous and distant. "I slept with him a few times, but the first time was the hardest. I remember staring at the ceiling, feeling his body on top of me and knowing that I could never get that moment back. I was vulnerable, and he knew it. I don't think I even uttered a sound, except for a slight whimper when he pushed in to me."

"God, the pain was unbearable," she continued, her voice low and filled with a heavy dose of shame. "I remember he came inside me, so much so that it ran down my legs and I was so sore the next day that I could barely walk when I auditioned for a show. But I kept my mouth shut," Lisa said, her voice trailing off. "I knew what I had to do to make it in this industry, and I was determined to do whatever it took."

The following day it was your turn to do whatever it took.

The door clicked shut as Harold left you alone in Cillian's luxurious penthouse suite after delivering you there and making the necessary introduction.

The silence was crushing as you took in your surroundings. Your pulse raced, your palms slick with sweat, as you nervously glanced about the elegantly decorated space. A beautifully carved wooden headboard, perfectly positioned to overlook the sparkling skyline, drew your attention, your heart sinking as you realized this is where the violating act would take place.

"Would you like a drink to calm your nerves?" Cillian asked you as you stood there trembeling , staring at the plush carpet. His voice was smooth and silky, a complete contrast to the rough and raw pontential of what he was about to do to your young, innocent body.

"I-I don't know..." you stuttered, unsure of how to respond as he assessed you, his manhood already straining against the expensive fabric of his trousers.

The idea of a drink repulsed you, but the thought of being alone with him in such an exposed state made your stomach turn. Reluctantly, you nodded, and he waved a hand towards the ornate bar in the corner of the room.

As he poured out a glass of amber liquid, you tried to steady your shaking hands. Liquid courage, that's what you needed. You took a tentative sip and felt the burn of the alcohol course down your throat, warming your trembling body.

"Harold tells me that you just turned eighteen and looking to make a name for yourself in this industry," Cillian said smoothly, his eyes fixed on your slender frame.

You nodded slowly, wondering where this was heading. Your mind raced with questions, but your fear kept you silent.

"Well, if you are good girl for me , I can definitely help you with that," Cillian said, his voice dripping with lewd intentions as he guided you towards the bed .

Your mouth went dry as you tried to shake your head, to protest, but your voice was caught in your throat. You knew what was coming next, and you couldn't stomach it.

"I don't really want to do this ," you stammered, your voice trembling.

"I know, but think of all the opportunities this could bring you, " Cillian purred, inching closer to you before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Come on, I will be gentle and promise it won't be that bad, " he whispered, nuzzling your neck.

"It's just, I never had sex before, " you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Even better, " Cillian murmured, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, giving it a squeeze through your dress. "This means that I get to pop that cherry of yours," he told you and you gasped as his other hand slid down your body, making its way beneath your dress.

He slipped his fingers beneath your panties, groaning as he felt your bald , shaved pussy. "Fuck, your hole is tiny," he growled, his fingers now tracing your slit.

"P-please don't do this," you stuttered, feeling tears spill from your eyes as a fresh wave of fear and resistance flooded through you.

"Sshhh, it's alright," he murmured, his mouth suddenly on yours again, kissing you hungrily as his fingers played with your labia. "I know you are scared, but just relax and let it happen."

His words were muffled as he spoke them around your lips and tongue, his fingers now dipping between your folds, exploring you gently and curiously, like a man trying something for the first time.

"Now why don't you take your clothes off for me," he murmured, as he pulled away from your mouth, his oceanic eyes meeting yours.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest and your hands trembling with fear and anxiety, but the threat of his looming presence, towering over you, made your compliance instinctive.

You undid the buttons of your shirt slowly, his gaze devouring your young body with each piece of clothing you shed and, eventually, all you were wearing was some white cotton panties featuring a small stain of blood from when he had fingered you.

It was that innocence that excited him the most.

"Such a good girl," he praised you, sliding his hand over your collarbone and down your chest. You quivered under his touch, wishing you could disappear. Your fear mingled with disgust as his finger traced the outline of your breast, lingering on your nipple, hardening it. "Harold wasn't wrong. You are a stunning little thing."

Your skin crawled at his words, but you remained frozen, submissive under his touch, too paralyzed with fear to fight back.

He undressed himself quickly, revealing his toned physique, exaggerated by the soft glow of the dimmed lights. He was completely naked now, and you gasped at the size of his manhood.

"Lie down, sweetie," he commanded, and you obeyed and, with a shivering body, laid down on the large bed while he stroked his cock provocatively.

'Spread your legs for me,' he ordered and with a deep breath, you obeyed. You heard him gasp at the sight of your pure, perfect body before him. He noticed your blood-stained panties and his chest heaved at the prospect of claiming your innocence.

"Ah, sweetie, I see your panties are stained from when I fingered that virgin hole of yours. Let's have a look at it, shall we?" he drawled as he reached for the hem of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. He paused for a second, marveling at your bare pussy, the folds pink and tight. "Perfect," he murmured as he spread your legs wider, exposing your bleeding slit to the cool air of the room.

He then ran his fingers over your blood soaked slit , causing you to whimper at the intrusive sensation.

"Such a tight little thing you are," he growled as he slipped a finger into your channel, pushing against the barrier of your virginity before pulling it out and wiping it on the sheets.

"It's going to be a snug fit ," he mused, admiring the sight of you lying there, exposed and vulnerable under his gaze. Your skin was flushed, your pulse quickened at his words. He was sizing you up, like a predator would its prey, and you couldn't help but feel like a lamb led to the slaughter.

"Well, let's see if we can stretch that hole a bit, shall we?" he smirked, climbing on top of you. His legs pinned yours down, spreading them wider apart.

The head of his thick cock nudged against your slick entrance, causing you to be startled by its girth and you squirmed under his weight, his hands gripping your hips fiercely, preventing you from moving.

"Wait," you whimpered, your voice trembling with uncertainty and fear. He looked down upon you, his piercing gaze holding your own. "Aren't you going to wear a condom?" you asked, swallowing hard and looking up at him with wide, scared eyes.

"No, I want to feel you bare. It's so much better that way," he replied eagerly while running the head of his cock over your slit.

"But, I'm not on birth control," you stammered, realizing how foolish it was to say such a thing at this point.

He smiled and braced his arms on either side of your head. "That's okay. I will give you the morning after pill when we are done," he whispered, before he began pushing the tip of his swollen cockhead against your entrance. The pressure of the head pressing against your innocence made you squirm and protest underneath him, but he didn't heed your pleas.

"Oh god, it hurts ," you cried out as he pushed in another inch, stretching your cherry to the brink.

"I know. It's alright . Just relax, baby," Cillian whispered soothingly, despite knowing that the pain was inevitable. "You are such a good girl for me," he told you , as he began pushing deeper, slowly and deliberately, tearing through the thin barrier of your innocence.

You couldn't help but let out a yelp, a combination of surprise, pain, and discomfort, as you lay there beneath him, legs trembling, hands fisted at your sides, nails digging into the luxurious sheets of the elegant suite. Your whole body tensed, tears streaming down your face, as he kept pushing forward until his entire length was buried deep inside of you, groaning out in pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. I knew it was going to be good, but goddamn," Cillian muttered, starting to thrust in a slow, deliberate rhythm, savouring the feeling of your virginity tightly wrapped around his cock.

"Please...it hurts," you whimpered, trying to hold back the tears as you felt your body stretched and invaded beyond belief.

"Just relax and let me stretch you out," he grunted, slamming all the way inside of you, filling you up with his thick, swollen cock.

Your tight pussy burned with a throbbing sensation, your body still adjusting to the sheer size that was previously unknown to your innocent body.

Cillian smirked as he felt your virginity broken, your blood glazing the length of his shaft. You cried out in pain, your fingers digging into the plush fabric of the bedsheets beneath you. He reveled in your discomfort, savoring the feeling of your tight pussy clenching around him as he thrust deeper into your young, innocent body.

"God, you feel so fucking good," he grunted, his hips driving into yours with a ferocity that made your breath catch in your throat. "Look at me while I fuck you."

You yelped in pain, tears streaming down your cheeks as he mercilessly thrust himself into you, ripping through your innocence. Your young, untouched body screamed in protest, but Cillian showed no remorse.

"I am going to cum deep inside you," he growled, his hips slamming roughly against yours.

You felt disgusted, helpless as he ravaged your body, pushing himself to the hilt with each brutal thrust.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head as he buried himself deep inside of you. You whimpered softly, fighting the urge to cry as the pain intensified.

"Almost done , little one," Cillian grunted, breathing heavily as he slammed into you forcefully. With a final groan, he ejaculated, releasing himself deep inside your tight channel.

It felt like a burning hot poker stabbing you relentlessly, the sensation unbearable. The intimacy of his release within you made you shudder from its intensity. The aroma of his sweat hung heavy in the air, mingled with an undercurrent of blood - your blood, invading your innocence and leaving a trail of crimson on the creases of your thighs.

His grip on your wrists slackened, allowing you to wriggle free from his grasp and when he pulled out of you, you could feel his semen oozing out, coating your inner thighs in a slick, wet mess.

The pain radiated through your body with a vengeance, and you couldn't help but wince as you shifted on the bed, the sheets sticking to your damp skin.

"There are towels in the bathroom," Cillian said casually, gesturing towards the en-suite with a nod. "Clean yourself up."

A flush rose to your cheeks, as you looked away from him, the embarrassment lodging itself in your throat like a fist.

You had heard stories of young girls like yourself being taken advantage of in the entertainment industry, but you never thought it would happen to you.

When you stood up quietly, you felt his cum leak out of your pussy, a mix of pain, discomfort and shame pulsing through your veins. Your muscles protested as you walked on shaky legs towards the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, you locked the door behind you, and stared at your reflection in the mirror.

You cleaned up , using a warm washcloth to wipe the cum and bloodstains from your thighs, feeling the painful throb radiate from within and when you retreated from the bathroom, Cillian handed you a packet containing a single pill.

"Take this. It's the morning-after pill. Make sure to take it tonight. Filming starts tomorrow," Cillian said, his tone flat.

His words echoed in your ears as you took the pills from him, feeling numb with shock and disgust. You wanted to scream and shout, to tell him that he had no right to do this to you. But all you could manage was a weak "thank you" before turning away from him and gathering your things.

#cillian murphy #cilliean murphy smut

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erinscoolart · 25 days ago

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COMMISSIONS TIME!!!!!

I am now offering two new commission types! Pricing is static to take the guesswork out of commissions. I'll put commission info and more examples under the cut but to summarise, I'm offering what i'm dubbing Pokemon Showcase Sheets for $100 USD and Fakemon designs from $50 USD (+25 for each additional form/evolution relating to the first design) Please have a look at my examples below!! theyre quite cool!!!!!

Pokemon Showcase Sheets

come with a Stylised fullbody of your choice, along with 5-6 silly little doodles to accompany it. lil expressions, evolutions, alt forms, stuff that relates to the pokemon of choice. you can make requests, you can leave it up to me. i'll do memes if you want em. just simple little things to fill in the space.

Examples of the style below:

Fakemon Designs

Got a concept for a pokemon you want seen brought to life? wanna see your pet as a pokemon? your OCs? just want a cool design for a lil guy??? come check out my fakemon option! for $50 I'll design you a guy, and $25 for each additional guy relating to that first guy (alternate forms, evolutions, whatever you wanna call what guys like throh and sawk have goin on idk what that is but its queer for sure)

as much info as to what you want is obviously appreciated, but i'll keep you involved in the design process regardless of how specific you wanna be! you give me a concept or a vague idea or some references, i'll send you my initial thoughts and sketches. we'll settle on a design, you toss me some money, and i'll line colour and shade it! Some examples of my fakemon designs below (the first one was a commission I took to fakemon someone's pet dog!)

Feel free to message me if you have any questions!!!! i don't bite and i love to talk so even if you just want to have a think out loud i'm here!

#pokemon #commissions #pokemon commissions #fakemon #oc #art #pet #pets #design #art commissions #design commissions #pokemon fanart

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deep-space-lines · 9 months ago

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Hi Guess What I Do Commissions

I've been doing commissions on Flight Rising for probably around 10 years now, but I figured I might as well try my luck on Tumblr. I need money to do frivolous things like exist because we live in a society, and some of you out there might want cool art, so here we are. Please commission me

Commission info (including what I will/won't draw) can be found here.

A ton of other examples, including past commissions, can be found here.

Commission queue is here.

Currently, I mostly do PWYW (pay-what-you-want) commissions.

It's simple: you pay me however much you'd like (min. $30, current max $100, at a rate of ~$30/hr- I'm thinking of upping the price because I'm getting Too Fast but it'll stay there for now), provide a character ref and a prompt, then let me loose upon the canvas for 1-3 hours like releasing a feral hog into the woods. Commissions are usually finished within 1-7 days.

PAST PWYW COMMISSIONS (mostly 2hr/$60 pieces)

Composition, style, etc is up to me; could be a painted headshot, could be a sketchier fullbody, could be something experimental, however I feel like committing the vibe you give me to paper. Whatever the case, I will do my absolute best to draw something really cool for you. More info can be found HERE

This post is subject to change in the future if I decide I want to add more commission options, but for now I'll keep it simple. I might be willing to do other commission types on a case-by-case basis if it's something I think I'll enjoy drawing- more info in the form.

Indecisive about exactly what you want to commission apart from 'cool art of my blorbo'? Can't for the life of you find someone willing to draw your robot oc because nobody ever wants to draw mecha stuff? Want someone to actually design said robot oc for you because you ALSO don't want to draw mecha stuff? I'm your guy.

OTHER COOL STUFF I'VE DRAWN TO PROVE I CAN DRAW STUFF

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anyway. this is also gonna be my new pinned post so

if you wanna see all my cool art on this blog click here -> #MY ART

if you want to see only the dumb stuff click here -> #STRAKA'S SHITPOSTS

#my art #commissions open #commissions #commission art #commission info #artists on tumblr #reblogs appreciated <3 #cmon gay people. i'll draw your robots for you. let me draw robots for you

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blood-orange-juice · 1 year ago

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ok so ive never properly played genshin and don’t plan to but i know a bit about it’s lore and characters and i think it’s really neat. however i have thousands of hours on ffxiv. on that note please explain why graha and childe are similar. i only have very basic knowledge on childe and i gotta know

Fellow ffxiv enjoyer. <3

(anyone asking me about G'raha has a 100% chance of getting a wall of text and I'm not apologising for that. enjoy your wall of text)

I'm not entirely sure I'm not a case of a person with a hammer to whom everything resembles a nail, but I do think they are the same archetype.

Sweet characters who could have been perfect sidekicks (who still are perfect sidekicks) but listened to too many epic tales as kids and found themselves in a wrong place at a wrong time and now have to play a key role in some universe-changing story.

Both are defined mostly by their stubborness, they are not very suitable for the roles they've chosen and fail over and over again until they do it somewhat right (barely).

No matter how badass they look, their power is not their own, G'raha is a glorified technician of someone else's miracle and little else than a living key, Childe wields an art of old Khaenri'ah without fully understanding it. It's all borrowed from someone else who needed them to achieve a goal.

They do look badass, but mostly because they larp. I'm honestly not sure which one enjoys theatrics more.

Civilisations that created the magic they use specialised in perversion of the natural order of things. They try to use it in relatively noble ways and mostly hurt themselves but the flavour is there.

Both are unbelievably tragic and both somehow make their stories seem almost lighthearted. Complete absense of self-pity. I think that's what makes them both so charming, it's a rare trait.

Both have an incredible capacity for loyalty and love and an incredibly twisted view of what relationships look like. "I'll cross time and space for you, I'll die for you, I'll build a city for you, I'll live for you but please don't ask me to share my plans." "I'll sacrfice my own health and respect of my subordinates to keep my brother's happyness, probably my humanity too, but don't expect me to actually interact with him."

Both have something that looks like self-sacrificial tendencies bordering on suicidality while being, if we are honest, a self-serving trait (partially born out of low self-esteem but still self-serving). They want to live in an old myth and sacrificing oneself is a perfectly reasonable price for that.

Huge egos. And I mean Huge Egos. It's a bit less obvious in Graha's case but I know the type, you see guys like that in PhD programs a lot.

Huge dorks. Both of them.

Both are stuck somewhere between human and non-human and, hmm... their ability to remain human is the most astonishing quality of both. By all accounts, neither should have. They somehow did.

Both are incapable of lying to the point where a third of each fandom headcanons them as autistic. Both are somewhat all right with tricking people without technically lying (although Childe had more practice).

Both are secretive because no one would understand anyway.

FF XIV is a kinder story, so it's easy to overlook, but technically G'raha is a case of body horror, accepts the role of a villain for a while and hides from the player way too much. Hmmm... Where else have I seen it. Hmm. Oh right. That ginger guy from Genshin.

Minor things:

Both are little shits and enjoy annoying the hell out of people they dislike.

Abysmally bad fashion sense. There should be a name for this particular type and level of bad. I don't think I've seen this anywhere else.

And then there's the colour scheme. Red+black+white+blue and red+black+light grey+blue (it's an "anime magician" color profile, I think. black-red-white as alchemy colours + blue as pure magic/something elemental). Childe doesn't quite fit but still the combination is rare.

They way they talk. Dear gods. Who the hell talks like that.

Here's where the similarities end.

One is morally grey but ultimately a good guy (technically. I think the point of ShB was that Emet and G'raha are almost the same), another is a morally grey but still (kind of) a bad buy.

At every step of his story Graha is surrounded by people who love or at least appreciate him, Childe is pretty much on his own and surrounded by people who are either shitty or clueless.

G'raha is kind. Truly and astonishingly kind, in a doomed world he chooses to love everything he touches. Silly little priest of hope. Of all the things he has done this is the most wondrous, I think. Not the time travel, not the city he founded, just being able to remain kind after everything that happened to him.

Childe is... well, Childe. I think he is a deeply decent person (to the point of having a visceral distaste for any kind of unfairness) and he's idealistic but he's indifferent more than he is kind. Empathy usually develops only when someone has shown the person empathy first and, as far as we know, he didn't have much of that in his life.

Also G'raha builds things. Childe breaks things. Childe breaks pretty much everything he touches.

One is an archeologist and a mage and another is a warrior.

I think these differences are caused mostly by the settings they were put into. Childe raised in Sharlayan would have been a very different person. G'raha trained by a voidsent and shipped off to Garlean military would look very much like Childe.

G'raha also has a beautiful character development arc. I love his ShB role. He has this huge ego in the raids and is insufferable and then we see an older and wiser him with a bunch of actual achievements and a bad case of impostor syndrome (trying to do anything real always humbles a person, we all know that real world is held together by sticks and scotch tape. honestly, this change alone is beautiful). And he gets to be an actual hero when he abandons all hope to be Important and resigns to die as a nameless villain if it saves everyone and spares his loved ones from heartbreak.

Childe's character development is yet to happen and I'm not hoping for much but we'll see.

The only difference that definitely isn't created by setting is that G'raha is naturally manipulative. In a kind-hearted way and mostly for the sake of better larp but he isn't that straightforward. Childe is spectacularly blunt for all his mysteriousness.

As a bonus, they both compare main characters to stars, but in completely different ways.

"No doubt your heroism will be the star by which I chart my course," says G'raha to the WoL.

Childe mentions the morning star, which is, of course, pretty and a good companion to a lonely traveler, but also it's not a celestial body you can chart your course by.

It's a guy whose signature weapon is called "Polar Star" and his first artifact set was full of nautical themes, so I think he fully understands what he's saying. "You are my friend but I won't change anything in my life for you."

So I don't think his story will be anything like G'raha's, his life took a different turn very long ago. I do think they used to be similar as kids, bookish boys who dreamed of adventure and being special. So it's fun to compare.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. <3

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meowmeowriley · 5 months ago

Note

Don’t mind me while I scream incoherently about the latest chapter of WsDB because holy shit was it good!!!

Ghost is the biggest shit ever and I love that for him (he deserves those strawberry’s).

all the gifts from his family the skull jumper were really well thought out (Soaps gonna lose his shit when he finds out Ghost’s part Scottish) The Akubra!!!! and the Skull omfg the sweet and twisted fluffy feelings 😭 They’re both in love and neither of the dumb arses realise it yet (I bet everyone else does though)

Poor price though he’s so worried for is anti social son. Ghost: *going out of his way to show affection and share things about himself with the team* Price: *sweating* wondering if he needs to call an ambulance or a priest first

Were Prices photos an 09 reference? How old is that hat?! I forgot you mentioned that Gaz’s girlfriend would be a spider! She must cop so much shit all the time (good on Kyle for not letting anyone add to it) I have a couple questions about her but all ask them later. Soap is so excited about his big family and ghost is about to go “hold my beer”. THE SPIRAL holy shit, like yes Ghost you do need therapy but that’s besides the point, your fucked up feelings are both weirdly sweet and reciprocated. Soap would 100% honour and respect every part of Ghost dead or alive they match each others freak. So your telling me that at the family show and tell Roach brought a photo of him with the rest of the 141 acting like idiots because they’re his family (your paying my physic bills because my heart just broke)

I love how Gaz and Roach are initially shocked by Ghost being trans but after it wears off they don’t actually care (meanwhile soap is in the background trying to do math) it’s just a thing like the sky is blue, the earth is round and Ghost is trans. The bigger shock is the whole rabbit situation, I can’t wait till soap finds out exactly what type of rabbit Ghost is. (Especially after what he just said lol) and Ghost’s last words for the chapter amounting to “I wouldn’t betray your trust but I have and will continue to fuck with you.

Sorry it's taken me a while to get back to this, but I wanted to give people a change to read it since this is a bit spoilery for chapter 3. ❤ Hopefully its been enough time, let's dive in!

Ghost being a little shit is one of my favorite parts of this fic, he deserves to be a menace.

Soap and his Akubra have been rotting my brain since it was first mentioned, and it will come up again. The man looks damn good in that hat.

Soap giving Ghost a fucking rabbit skull of all things, he's trying so hard to get into Ghost's good graces, and had no clue at the time how fucked up that action was 😂 next chapter will have our first taste of Soap's POV and his realization of the implications of his actions.

Price watching Ghost come out of his shell like 😰 lol the poor guy, he's never seen Ghost act like this and he's worried the man is losing it.

So Price's photos were a bit of a personal headcanon of mine, because Modern Warfare's Price isn't the first, only Price in the Call of Duty games. There was a Captain Price in Call of Duty and Call of Duty 2, who looks similar but his accent is way thicker and the timeline is set in WW2. There's also mention of a Johnathan Price in COD Black Ops. It's never explicitly stated (to my knowledge) that that man is one and the same as our Captain from MW. Anyway, I like to believe that the Price family has been sending their boys off to be Captains for generations.

Please ask about Gaz's spider GF, I love her, and want to talk about her!

Roach's family photos was fun and sad to write. Basically, by joining the military he severed ties with his old gang, who were all he had. So the 141 means everything to him. This will be important later. 😈

Ghost: I'm trans

Everyone: huh, okay, didn't know that. Woulda never guessed.

Ghost: also I'm a rabbit

Everyone: minds blown, chaos, worldview shattered

And lastly, as much as Ghost is fucking with and going to continue fucking with Soap, trust that I have all kinds of mental and emotional fuckery planned for you lot, my lovely readers. 😘

#call of duty #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #modern warfare #cod mw2 #watership down bad au #fanfic #fanfic wip #ao3 #simon ghost riley #trans!ghost #rabbit shifter ghost #bunny!ghost #shifter au #john soap mactavish #ask #ask answered #ask hoard

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suzy-queued · 1 year ago

Text

A Gallavich tale, told 100 words at a time.

**This story is now complete!**

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

A man jumped into the back seat of Ian’s car.

“You a driver?” Dark hair, one small piece of luggage.

“Yeah, only if you’re registered on the app.”

“Screw the app. Take me to Nashville.”

Ian choked on his Gatorade. “That’s eight hours from here.”

“So?”

“You gotta plan these things out. Get matched with the right driver.”

“It’s not like I knew that my fucking boyfriend was gonna run off to fucking Yee-Haw Land to elope with my sworn enemy.”

Ian checked the rearview and saw pain behind those angry blue eyes. He switched his app status to OCCUPIED.

---

Ian took the entrance ramp onto I-90. They should arrive in Nashville around … oh, 3:37 AM.

“I have an emergency kit.” Ian nodded with his chin. “Under the seat. A few comforts in case you need ’em.”

The passenger shuffled through the insulated bag. “Boxed juice. Granola bars. Fucking gummy bears, man? This is childhood stuff. You got any Jack Daniels?”

Ian felt a spark of disobedience. “I’ve got a few joints in the glove box.” This was definitely off-book behavior, but it felt right. “They come with a price.”

“What’s that, Jeeves?”

“You’ve gotta tell me your whole story.”

---

The dark-haired passenger scoffed. “You don’t look like you’ve got the stomach to get caught up on my bullshit.”

“Try me.”

“Whatever. Fuckin’ sadist.” He settled into his seat. “You ain’t wearing a wire, right?”

“Not today.”

“All right, so, you ever heard of Berry Buds?”

“Those stuffed animals in the shape of fruit? Don’t people use those to smuggle coke?”

The guy raised an eyebrow. “You too delicate to hear about crime, pumpkin? There’s murder, too. Betrayal. And a pair of pink flamingos.”

“Wait, back up. You forgot the most important part. What’s your name?”

The passenger only smiled.

---

Man, this passenger could talk. Ian heard an hour’s worth of Milkovich family crimes.

Milkovich.

Ian didn’t know the guy’s first name. Only how passionate he was, the excitement in his voice.

“So Iggy launched the box of M-80s into the river, right, and this long-legged yahoo waltzes up.” Milkovich paused. “Wait, did you just yawn? If it’s such a chore to listen, I can fuckin’ stop.”

Ian made eye contact in the rearview mirror. “I was promised murder. A boyfriend.”

Milkovich slunk in his seat. “Keith.” All his passion faded to pain. “Yeah … guess I can talk about him.”

---

“Keith is …” Milkovich seeped with defeat and anger. “He’s the first person who saw me as more than a thug. We met at the liquor store. Been together seventeen months. I thought we were long-term, you know? Then he starts spending time at clubs. Digging into the scene. I don’t give a fuck if he does coke to let off steam. But he keeps getting it from the same guy. Real tall motherfucker. White-blond hair. Wears sweater vests.”

“Northside prick.”

“Oh, you know this guy?”

Ian had seen plenty of club action. He hardened in solidarity. “I know the type.”

---

“Anyways, that’s how I realized my piece-of-shit boyfriend is marrying fancy-pants Logan Covington, the motherfucker who snipes our business and has led the biggest anti-Milkovich smear campaign this side of Michigan.” The passenger let out a sigh. He slowed for the first time in an hour. “Shoulda known by that haircut. He came home looking like a walking Ken doll.”

“So, wait.” Ian sorted through the complicated story threads. “Are you going to kill your boyfriend?”

“No, man, keep up. I want to get him back.” He leaned forward, laying his hand on Ian’s shoulder. “And you’re gonna help me.”

---

Ian scoffed. “Don’t rope me into your drama.”

“Come on, man. We show up at the chapel, tell Keith I’m dating you now, let the jealousy unfold.”

Unbelievable. Ian shouldn’t even consider the offer. He had a ton to do this weekend. But Milkovich was obviously hurting.

Ian scratched his chin. “And I’d be on the clock the whole time?”

“What, you scared to do it? You a homophobe or something?”

“I’m gay.”

Milkovich stared, hard. He looked Ian up and down. “You never mentioned that.” He gave a coy smirk.

Ian felt a shot of electricity. “You never asked.”

---

The Silver Diner in Lafayette, Indiana bustled with activity.

Milkovich talked over the sizzling grill. “Still don’t know why we stopped here.”

“Can’t think on an empty stomach.” Ian flagged the waitress.

Jolene smiled, leaned into the booth. “Order’s coming right up, sugarpot.” She touched Ian’s arm as she left.

Milkovich frowned. “That shit happen to you a lot?”

“What?”

“Chicks waving their boobs in your face.”

“I don’t really notice.” But Milkovich noticed. Interesting.

“It’s good, actually. We can use it in our plan. People find you attractive.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He rolled his eyes. “Didn’t say me.”

---

Milkovich rolled a coin across the diner table. “You see that? Table's tilted by a degree-and-a-half. Cheap off-balance pedestal leg. I’d have used a trestle instead.”

Huh. This guy’s shoulders relaxed when he talked about normal stuff.

“The key with builds like this…” The guy was smart. Layered. Funny. And his eyes twinkled when he geeked out about construction, apparently.

Ian was finding new ways to be awed each minute.

“…at least shim the motherfucker because…”

Ian interrupted. “I’m in.”

“Huh?”

“Your plan? I guess can pretend to like you.”

Ian’s stomach swooped. Pretend might not be the right word.

---

“Seriously, you’ll do it?” Milkovich raised an eyebrow. “Okay, lay it on me. Tell me everything about you.”

Ian enjoyed sharing his details. “I’m one of six kids. Two sisters, three brothers. Wait, you’re not writing this down? You’re gonna memorize all this shit?”

The guy leaned forward, intense, piercing. He traced his finger around Ian’s wrist. “We’re chained now. I’ll remember everything about you.”

This was absurd, but the guy seemed dead serious.

Ian felt goosebumps. He took charge and matched the guy’s intensity. “Then tell me your first name.”

A quick tongue flick. The guy nodded. “It’s Mickey.”

---

Turns out, scheming and joking with Mickey was easier than breathing. Ian drummed on the table. “Okay, how’d we meet? I gave you a ride somewhere?”

“And then I rode you.” Mickey laughed. “Simple enough. How about second date?”

Ian’s inner romantic spun into action. “A rooftop picnic. You brought snacks and whiskey.”

“Hm. Doesn’t sound like me.”

“I brought a tire iron and gun because I didn’t trust you.”

Mickey smirked, like these lies were becoming reality in his head. “Wise man.”

Ian swelled. His weekend suddenly had purpose. He’d be the best fake boyfriend in the goddamn world.

---

They hit the john before they got back on the road. Pissed in outdated urinals, washed their hands.

Ian watched Mickey closely. Every turn, every strut, every smirk. That’s how he noticed that Mickey flinched when the hand dryer shot to life.

“Mickey Milkovich.” Ian laughed. “You can dump a mob boss in the Chicago River but you’re afraid of a little hot air?”

“It’s fucking startling.”

Mickey paused in the doorway. Tilted his head. Looked up at Ian. “Keith … he never noticed that about me.”

Ian elbowed him, defusing his sadness. “I’m going to learn all your secrets, boyfriend.”

---

Around midnight, the rhythm of repeating street lights on Interstate 65 lulled Ian toward sleep.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mickey looked damn relaxed, too. Seat leaned back. Legs stretched out. Talking in a low voice. “Let’s say I blew this.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Say I end up alone. Do I deserve that?”

Ian could certainly judge. He’d heard about Mickey’s crimes, his family, his dating history.

He wanted to hold Mickey’s hand. He wanted to find the right words to remedy this hurt.

“Mickey, you are the most –”

A bang. A crash. Ian’s face smashed into the airbag.

---

Ian took inventory. He was conscious. Neck pain. Bleeding nose.

He scrambled to unfasten his seatbelt. To wave away the airbag dust.

He pawed at Mickey’s leg, arm, chest. “Are you okay?”

“I’m scraped up.” Mickey coughed. “What happened?”

“Someone clipped our bumper. We spun out. Hit the guardrail. I was out of control.”

“Why are you pulling on my eye?”

Ian lowered his hand. “Checking for a concussion.” He tried to steady his breath, calm his panic. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”

Mickey set his injured hand on Ian’s, offering shaky reassurance. “Better than being worm food, man.”

---

The cops had come and gone. Reality settled in. Ian’s car was undriveable. They were stranded.

Mickey’s anxiety spiked. “How the hell am I getting to the wedding now?” He paced along the shoulder, pointing at Ian. “Who drives for a fucking living and doesn’t have roadside assistance?”

Ian spoke via speakerphone to a random tow company they’d Googled. “It’s a silver Camry. Near exit 130.”

Mickey yelled into the phone. “Just look for the goddamn ring of fire lighting up I-65.”

Ian prayed for strength. “Ignore him. There’s no fire.” Unless you counted the flames rising from Mickey’s nostrils.

---

Ian talked to Mickey in the crammed cab of the tow truck. “I told you I’d get you there. I’ll think of something.”

The mechanic pulled into a repair shop. “Car can stay here. Hank opens at 7:00 tomorrow.”

Mickey exploded. “It’s not open 24 hours?”

“This is Indianapolis, not L.A.”

“How are we supposed—"

Ian held up a hand to stop him. He could feel Mickey’s desperation, his impatience and heartbreak. “Is there a hotel nearby?”

The mechanic pointed across the street. To a run-down motel called King Richard’s Royal Inn.

Mickey glared. “Well, long live the fuckin’ king.”

---

Josie at the front desk didn’t even look at her computer. “I’m sorry. It’s race week. We don’t have room for more guests.”

Mickey glared at Ian. “Come on, Gingerbread. You’re taking me to the Motel 6.”

Josie snorted. “You’ll be lucky to find a campground in this town with a vacancy.”

“Guess I’m sleeping in your fucking lobby, then.”

As if Ian didn’t feel bad enough about this situation.

A chime sounded on the computer.

“Hey, now.” Josie smiled. “We’ve just had a cancellation.” She looked between them. “It’s a single. One full-sized bed.”

Mickey didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”

---

“Door’s flimsy enough to kick open.” Ian unlocked the motel room.

Mickey groaned. “No TV. No closet. They better have hot water.”

“Jesus, the bed’s small.” Ian’s neck ached. This was officially hell.

“You gonna be all right, Red? We’ve got to get used to touching each other.”

Ian grabbed him and pulled him close, roughly. “Think we’ll be able to fool Keith?”

And, damn, Mickey’s face was right fucking there, looking tired. Cranky. Kissable. “We should do it bareback in the middle of the chapel just to piss him off.”

Oof.

Ian was not going to survive this night.

---

Mickey cracked the bathroom door as he showered, fogging up the motel room.

Ian sat on the bed, still for the first time tonight. He felt warmth. Pain. Adrenaline let-down.

Mickey’s silhouette moved behind the curtain. A hint. A tease. An invitation.

What if … Ian pulled the curtain back?

He could feel those sturdy shoulders, that smooth skin. Trace his tongue along the water droplets. Grab that thick … hair.

What if Mickey dropped his guy and took Ian on? Then what?

Would Mickey get tired of him?

Desire. Curiosity. Potential. Ian’s thoughts swirled like water.

… then the shower clicked off.

---

“Jesus!” Mickey pulled the curtain back. “Damn water turned to ice.” He jumped from the shower, lunging for a towel.

And of course Ian had been staring and saw everything. Mickey’s dripping body. The toned muscles in his legs. His stomach. A quick flash of his anatomy.

Ian turned away.

“Fucking freezing, man.” Mickey’s wet feet slapped on the floor. “This is on you, Gallagher.”

Ian peeked. The towel did nothing to hide the curve of Mickey’s ass.

God, Ian had to tamp down his infatuation. Maybe cockiness would work instead. “I hear skin-to-skin contact gets you warm the fastest.”

---

Mickey huffed at Ian’s joke. “You tryin’ to see me naked?”

“It’s for science. Research.”

Mickey shrugged and reached for the knot of his towel. The world moved in slow motion now, a tattooed hand tugging white cotton.

The fabric fell away, sliding down his leg. Dark hairs matted against skin. Body with the right balance of definition and softness.

Ian’s heart beat fast. He felt it getting stronger and stronger and stronger.

He glanced up and fell into Mickey’s eyes.

One touch could overcome the silence. One touch could reveal Ian’s crush.

Mickey smiled, all confidence. “Your turn, Loverboy.”

---

In this game of chicken, Mickey was winning.

Ian gulped. It was only fair, right? Mickey needed to see his body for their boyfriend charade to work.

Ian peeled off his jeans. His t-shirt, going slow and begging all his parts to stay chill.

Mickey never broke eye contact.

Ian slid his boxers down, breathless.

“Patriot tattoo. Boobs tattoo.” Mickey nodded. “Carpet matches the drapes. Uh-huh.”

How could Mickey stay so calm when he was tearing Ian’s nerves to pieces?

Mickey stepped within touching distance. “Only one more question, hot shot.”

“What’s that?”

“How good of an actor are you?”

---

Ian held his ground. “I’m a great actor.”

“Could you kiss me right now?” Mickey’s gaze raked down Ian’s body. “Kiss me and not get hard?” Mickey spoke oh-so-slowly. “We’re together, right? So we supposedly kiss all the time. Can you control yourself?”

A song burst through the tension. A silly cartoon voice repeating, You are my cute-cumber. You are my cute-cumber.

Mickey’s eyes widened. “Fuck, my phone.”

He scrambled, but the sound went silent before he got there.

Ian laughed. “Seriously? That’s the cheesiest alert.”

“You don’t understand.” Mickey looked up with pain in his eyes. “That’s Keith’s ringtone.”

---

Keith’s call shifted Mickey's vibe from flirty to flustered.

Ian slid on his boxers and jeans. Being naked suddenly seemed wrong.

“Why the fuck was he calling?” Mickey threw the towel over his lap. “He didn’t leave a voicemail. Is he having second thoughts about the wedding? Should I call back?”

Ian had no clue how to help. “Just take a minute. Breathe.”

“My brain’s turning to mush here, Gallagher. I’m exhausted. I’m confused. We haven’t eaten in hours. And now this? Tell me what the fuck to do.”

Ian didn’t think. He yanked Mickey’s head back and kissed him.

---

The kiss was overwhelming. Tinged with panic. Wonderful. Scary. Exciting. Over too soon.

Mickey touched his own lips. “That’s good. I … needed that.”

“This trip’ll be stressful enough without you freaking out. When the anxiety ratchets up in that head of yours, I’ll take care of you, all right?”

Mickey nodded. Took a second. Smirked. “Knew you couldn’t do it.”

“What?”

“Knew you couldn’t kiss me without getting hard.”

“You’re an asshole.”

But the intensity on Mickey’s face told Ian not to push. The bright blue eyes. The absolute relief at being taken care of.

Ian let the moment simmer.

---

Ian needed to be supportive. A bodyguard. A wingman, offering safety pins and pep talks.

He pulled two joints from his pocket. “You weren’t meant to face this weekend sober.”

“Fuck, man, you always know what I need.”

“Snagged ’em from my glove box after the crash.” Ian lit up and offered one to Mickey. “I know everything seems fuckin’ hopeless, like your life is wrecked. You ain’t wrong.”

“This supposed to make me feel better?”

“The point is, it’s okay to be who you are.”

“What’s that, big guy?”

Ian threaded their fingers together. “A loser, just like me.”

---

The wee hours passed in a purple haze of weed and exhaustion.

They didn’t sleep. They lay beside each other in that tiny bed, clothes on, joking and mumbling.

They bumped elbows, knocked knees, held hands.

Ian ached for more touch. For a kiss that meant more than comfort.

Mickey’s icy blue eyes held him at bay. I can’t face that yet. Please let me hover outside of reality a little longer.

In the orange glow of sunrise, Ian gathered his nerve. He asked the question he’d been pondering all night. “You still want to go to this wedding, Milkovich?”

---

Mickey sat too far away on the motel bed. “Why wouldn’t I go? Keith is my boyfriend. We live together.”

“How’s that gonna work out once the newlyweds get home?”

“I still want to go.”

This wasn’t right, goddammit. In the movies, a kiss leads to a romantic finale, not this stubborn insistence to stay on course.

Ian grasped at one last hope. “To win Keith back?”

Mickey inched closer. He held Ian’s chin. Broke into a smile. “To show him what a big mistake he made.”

This time, the kiss was only about the two of them. Fuckin’ finally.

--- * --- * --- * --- * ---

Hey. Is this thing on?

Gallagher’s been doing an okay job telling this story, but now it’s my turn. And none of that past-tense, passive bullshit. I’ll tell you everything the moment it happens, okay?

You’re gonna witness every mile, every pit stop, every tacky decision my ex makes for this wedding. His abysmal choice in groom. Some godawful silver balloon arch. Those lime-flavored vodka Jell-o squares he loves so much.

Damn, I can’t wait to see the scowl on Keith’s face when Ian and I start playing tonsil hockey on the dance floor.

We’re gonna fuck some shit up.

---

It’s seven AM. I’m camped outside Hank’s Body Shop drinking coffee-colored swill.

Ian’s beside me, giving me bedroom eyes, running his fingers up my arm. He’s tempting as fuck.

Hank unlocks the door and lets us in. “Knew you’d be waitin’.”

I spot Ian’s car, nod toward it. “What’s the damage?”

“Her bones are good, but you’re looking at three grand in parts and labor. I have an opening on October first.”

“October? That’s six weeks from now.”

Hank shrugs. “You can tow her somewhere else. No skin off my teeth.”

Ian eyes darken, and not in a sexy way.

---

Look, I’ve learned a lot about Gallagher in the past day. If he says he’s gonna do something, he will.

We’re definitely getting to Nashville.

He’s got about eighty tabs up on his phone. “Ubering is ridiculously expensive. A rental car’ll surcharge me because I’m not twenty-five.”

“You’re not?”

“Not until next May.” Ian doesn’t even look up. “Greyhound leaves at 11:30. What time’s the wedding?”

“Six.”

“Guess we’re taking the bus.”

I fucking hate this idea. Ian can tell. He grabs me by the waist. “We can cuddle the whole way there.”

Okay, maybe I fucking love this idea.

---

We leave the car behind. Leave the body shop behind. Check out of the motel, leave it behind.

All I’ve been doing lately is letting things go. Releasing the goddamn trapeze wire and falling without a net.

My ex is the hardest fucking thing to let go.

Ian and I sit in the back seat of a cab, on our way to the bus station. He holds my hand, simply. “This is the first time I’ve seen your shoulders relax.”

He's a six-foot-high, freckly-armed godsend. It's easier to let go when a motherfucker like that is waiting to catch you.

---

The bus trip passes in a blur. I’m lost in a tangle of Gallagher limbs. He touches my forehead, cups my cheek, kisses me every minute on the minute.

After all the shit we’ve gone through, the ride feels too easy. Roadblocks are easy to rally against. But when the path is clear, doubt creeps in.

We pull into Nashville Station at four o’clock. It’s sunny. The air smells like Keith.

He’s probably putting on his tux and double-checking the flowers right now.

I’ve been obsessed. I haven’t taken a moment to breathe.

Fuck.

Am I doing the right thing?

---

I shove down my hesitation, because fuck Keith. If I want to crash his party, I’ll do it with a wrecking ball.

Ian and I step out of an Uber, bleary-eyed. The white chapel sits in a commercial strip, bathed in neon.

There’s two pink birds dressed in tuxedos mounted out front. I rip one from the grass. “Goddamn flamingos, man. That was supposed to be our thing.”

A man greets guests at the chapel steps. “Thank you for coming, thank you ah-very much.” Rhinestones. Bell bottoms. Sunglasses.

I can’t handle this shit. “He’s having fucking Elvis officiate his wedding?!”

---

I’m ready to find out what kinda froufrou shindig my ex is throwing. I’m gonna bust in his skull the second he vows himself to that prick Logan Covington.

Only … I haven’t moved yet.

Ian sets his hand on my neck. He touches a muscle that calms my whole goddamn body. “Hey, there’s a pizza place around the block. You up for it?”

I blink. “Bustin’ this up isn’t going to help anything, is it?”

He shakes his head.

Fuck. That voice of reason finally takes hold. “Pizza it is, then.”

The moment we turn, I hear a voice. “Mickey?”

---

Keith’s tux is perfect. His hair is perfect. “What’re you doing here? H-how are you?”

“Me? I don’t have a care in the goddamn world.”

He’s got candles in one hand and hideous flowers in the other. He pauses, like there’s no fucking sense hiding what’s going on. “I’m dying to know what you’re thinking.”

Well, fuck, I am, too. Because I didn’t plan this far. This whole trip’s been fueled by spitfire and rage. Now here we stand, face-to-face, and I’m torn between revenge and the strong freckled hands of my Uber driver.

I open my mouth to speak.

---

I can’t find the right words. My mouth works on autopilot. I turn my head and lay the biggest goddamn kiss on Ian. His body tenses, then he melts into it like we’ve been doing this shit for years.

I forget that Keith’s there. Elvis fades away. The chords of the practicing organist fade away.

I pull back slowly, staring at Ian.

“Um, hello?” Keith waves.

“Ian and I are gonna grab some grub. Maybe check out that haunted Nashville tour. Have fun with whatever bullshit you’re doing today.”

I don’t care how petty I sound.

I’m finally fuckin’ free.

---

I hear Keith stammering behind me. I don’t care what he has to say or what a clusterfuck this’ll be after the dust settles and we return home.

Ian and I shuffle down the sidewalk arm-in-arm.

The pizza ain’t Chicago style, but it tastes amazing. The hotel Ian picks for us ain’t fancy, but the sheets are clean.

We kiss against the wall. He peels off my clothes.

25 hours. 475 miles. One motherfucking Elvis. One round of drowsy sex.

I’m comfortable tangled in Ian’s gangly arms.

We do the thing I’ve been dying to do for an eternity … sleep.

---

Ian hands our key to the hotel clerk. “My friend and I enjoyed our stay.”

I nudge Ian as we walk outside. “Why’d you call me that?”

“Because you’re my friend.”

I pinch my eyes. I need more.

Ian slinks against me. “You’re my… lover.” Now he’s getting it. “Wanna bite you. Wanna nibble on you the whole way home.”

Better, but I still need more. “When we get back, will you be my—”

“Yes.” For Ian, it’s as simple as that.

We got no car. No plan. We only have each other.

And that’s all I fuckin’ need.

---*---*---*---*---

ONE YEAR LATER

Ian threw a receipt onto the kitchen table. “Finally paid the last toll. Got all the Camry repairs done.”

Mickey smirked. “We never got to show off our fake dating skills on that trip.”

“There’s one last souvenir I gotta deal with.” Ian got down on one knee, holding a small black box. “You’re in this house – this home – all the time. Might as well make it official.”

“You sayin’ you wanna get hitched?”

“You up for it? No flamingoes, I promise.”

Mickey pulled him into a kiss. “Pretty wise choice, hopping in your car that day.”

#galladrabbles #galladrabble #100 words #gallavich fan fiction #master post #no sleep til nashville

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