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#probably gonna change the price later
finnieforkys · 4 months
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Reimu plushie design + price list
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lvlyghost · 1 year
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Cold Nights
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Reader doesn't show up for morning training. Ghost doesn't know what to think.
Word Count: 794
Tw: fluff, angst, mentions of being sick, soldiers being scared of simon lol, ooc simon probably, he calls reader kid, i think that's it🤭
A/N: I'm sick and this came to my mind, I just want simon to take care of me okay???🥹🤧 this is super bad as usual. still hope you like it. pls remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome ✨💖
Masterlist✨
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Ghost doesn't see her at the cafeteria, nor the training room. He's disgruntled. His eyes keep drifting apart from the soldiers in front of him, waiting for the next round of endless push ups he's gonna make them go through.
Why isn't she here?
His body feels restless, pacing back and forth.
Soap doesn't say anything, just shifts his weight from one foot to another.
"Johnny," he calls him. "You're in charge."
"Lt.?" He quirks a brow, not understanding. That's so unlike him.
"Got things to do."
He storms out of the room, the walls rattle when he closes the doors.
It's a cold day. Just like the day before.
Days used to mean nothing to him.
Time.
Until she came along. Three years ago.
That woman... he sighs.
Was it something he said? Didn't they talk about it last night?
Everything was fine.
Or so he thought.
-
"We shouldn't be out here, kid." He mutters. It's freezing, he can see her trembling even beneath her hoodie. Well it was actually his. The hoodie completely swallowing her small form.
"I know, I know!" She laughs. Her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink. "I just... it was too loud inside." That he can agree on. "Is it true?" She asks a few seconds later.
Simon stills. Choosing his next words carefully.
"What?"
"What Soap said." A heartbeat. "About us."
There's a silence that falls between them.
"Those were the words of a drunk man."
"Were they?" her smile is contagious. Damn her and her beautiful soul. "Would you come with me if I asked you to?"
He stares directly at her, trying to find any sign of doubt. He's always mesmerized by her gentle nature. That's something he never knew. Perhaps that's why he was so drawn to her. Longed to be wherever she was. Breathe the same air.
"I'd say that's highly inappropriate." He states. "And that you've had too many shots of whatever poor excuse of a whiskey Johnny made you drink."
"Price called it piss water." She shooks her head. "You're changing the subject!"
Simon chuckles. He really does.
"You've got such power over me no one else could ever have, kid."
And he's doomed.
-
He's trying so hard, going through the events of the night, trying to remember. What happened? Nothing out of line was said. She seemed content when they parted ways, right after he had kissed her good night outside her room. Simon saw the way her eyes lit up with a spark he never saw before. The longing stare. Remembers vividly how she had stopped him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt pulling him down for another heated kiss.
He walks down the corridor with long strides. Hands balled into fists. He shouldn't be this mad. But that was the effect she had in him.
He tries to cool down. Ghost was scared too. What if she had changed her mind and didn't want anything to do with him? He was messing up his head at the mere thought.
He finally makes it to the room, knocking twice before her soft voice tells him he can come in.
Inside the room, all the curtains were closed, not a single ray of light made it inside apart from the lamp casting shadows around. Furrowing his brows he closes the door behind him with a low click.
"Kid?" He calls her. Immediately rolling on her side she welcomes him, red eyes, stuffy nose and looking disheveled.
"Sorry I missed training." She apologizes. Changing to a sitting position and waits for him to sit next to her.
"What's wrong?" He demands with a soft voice. She's still wearing his hoodie from last night. Rubbing her eyes she gives Simon a tired smile.
"I'm just really sick Simon." She answers, he can hear her hoarse voice now.
"Bloody hell, love." His hand goes straight to her face, caressing her cheek. "Did you go to the infirmary?" Closing her eyes, she rest her head against his hand.
"Mhm. Got some painkillers prescribed. Still feel horrible."
"Good, it'll take some time for you to feel better. You need to rest, okay?". The look he gave her leaves no room for discussion.
"Wasn't planning on leaving my bed you know?" He smiles ever so slightly. "Would you stay with me?" When he doesn't answer right away she adds: "never mind you'll catch whatever this bug is and i don't ..."
"Sweetheart," he interrupts her rambling. "Scoot over."
She looks at him wide-eyed.
"You... you don't," she stutters.
"No, I don't mind at all. If there's anything you need just tell me, copy?" She nods, staring at his blue eyes. "Told you we shouldn't have been outside last night."
"Even if it meant catching a cold, I'm glad we did, Simon."
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ranboolivesaysstuff · 7 months
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Merch comes out in ONE WEEK SO HERES SOME UPDATES
I saw people in my asks for prices so I’ll give you guys what we have right now (subject to change!)
Particle eyes Beanie 26-28 (it is a very complicated design LMAO)
Black shirt 26-28
Mineral wash purple shirt 30-32 (trust me it looks sick, but I wanted to add a cheaper option for a shirt as well!)
Sweatshirt+joggers ATM UNSURE but I’d say the range is like 60-70 probably closer to 60
R800 jacket will be a LITTLE on the more expensive side, but trust me when I say the quality is incredible and it’s super comfortable for a racing jacket. I don’t plan for it to be extremely expensive tho
Particle plushie ATM unsure I’ll update you guys on this when I can, but I don’t see it being too expensive!
AND IN TERMS OF TEXTURE
all of it is SUPER comfortable, no itchy labels or anything.
THE HOODIE AND THE PANTS are closer to the feeling of the OG Ranboo hoodie! Not EXACTLY but imo this new one feels so much nicer!!!
The beanie is going to be slightly bigger than the genloss one, because I heard complaints about it being too small
The plushies arms and legs are LOOSE but have magnets in the hands to hold silly things!!!
This is going to last for a BIT HOWEVER
the later you order the later it will arrive! (That’s just how stock works lmao) so sign up for the email if you want to potentially get an EARLY ACCESS CODE!!!
Let me know if you have any more questions! This is gonna be an awesome drop I hope you guys like it!
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 9 months
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Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader
Getting so worked up during a celebration for Price's birthday that Simon has to take you in the bathroom of the bar you are both at just so you'll calm down
"Just couldn't fuckin' wait till we got back, yeah baby?" Simon growls in your ear with his warm breath, lips close to the side of your head as you both stand cramped inside that tiny bathroom stall as he desperately works your cunt with his fingers. "My fuckin' needy little kitten, shit you're just grinding away on my thick fuckin' fingers, aren't ya? Needed it that bad?"
It wasn't your fault honestly, he knew what the liquor did to your libido and yet he let you have shot after shot to keep pace with the boys...I mean it was a celebration after all, but still.
If he didn't want to be knuckles deep between your petals he should have pulled the reigns long ago...and yet maybe this was what he wanted in the first place. It wasn't like he was dismissing your discrete advances all night, even taking you by the hand to the dingy bar bathroom himself.
Price's birthday wasn't always able to be celebrated, work did have to come first unfortunately, but it just so happened that everything fell into place this year and so the entire group gathered in the local bar to let go and have fun.
And here you were with Simon having you own extra bit of fun, though this one wasn't for sharing...
Using your bandana that you had worn in your hair tonight as makeshift cuffs, Simon had your hands tied behind your head so that you wouldn't be tempted to stop the work his fingers were currently doing down below to get you off.
It had to be quick and distractions wouldn't help.
"Sorry, baby," you whimpered, mouth agape as heavy breaths exited your lips. "Just fucking need you so bad sometimes I can't see straight. And you are just looking so good tonight...was having trouble not just riding you at the table."
Oh he was absolutely gonna give you hell for it, but there was no doubt that he loved every fucking second of just how needy you could get for him. Just hearing that lilting whine in your voice, begging and pleading with him to take you in any way, shape, or form he could sent him up the goddamn wall.
"They probably all know what we're doin' in here, ya know that sweetheart," he said, thick accent making your skin tingle and your clit throb. "They're probably chucklin' under their breaths about how we weren't slick at all, breakin' away from the group like that. I bet they're whisperin' about how you're fuckin' just takin' it all, whatever I give ya."
You shook your head, eyes closed as he slipped another large finger into your already soaked panties and up into your core. "Don't care," you breathed, "even if they call me a whore, they better put your name in front of it and I won't deny it."
The plan was just to get you off quick so that you could finish out the night with the gang and then take you back later to his to do you proper, but fuck the way his cock was straining against the fabric of his jeans that wasn't gonna be enough.
"F-fuck baby, why do you always feel so fucking good?" you again whimpered quietly, so far gone between the booze and your lovers fingers that sanity had left you completely.
You were just so fucking wet, looking so goddamn voluptuous with all those juicy curves, saying all the right things to make him fall apart. As much as he tried to stay sane, it wasn't working, so change of plans...otherwise he was gonna be a fucking mess and that just wouldn't do.
That's how it always went, didn't it? He should've known he could keep himself out of you; not even if he tried.
"Ya want me inside ya?" Simon asked hurriedly out of the blue, as if he didn't already know the answer, and instantly your eyes shot open as your heart nearly burst from your chest.
"God, yes," you answered without hesitation. "Please Simon, fill me to the brim..."
A quick scramble to undo his pants, buckle jingling and denim rubbing against itself as he shimmied the damned things down enough to release himself, his cock already hard and pulsating, needing to enter you now.
Using the toilet paper dispenser as a makeshift ledge, Simon picked you up and set you on it with a prayer that it would stay bolted to the stall wall long enough the he could get you both off before it broke. He hated that any part of you had to touch anything in here, who the fuck knew how clean it was, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Your thighs instantly locked around his hips as you waited for him to align the head of his cock with your entrance. "Gotta make this quick" he groaned, the head of his member slipping itself through your petals.
And there it was, the initial thrust that always split you open as you took every inch inside until he ran out of inches to give. Christ, how fucking amazing it was to be so full of him; that fucking girth was more than enough.
"G-god-d-damn," he choked out, his hands digging harshly into your hips as he clung on for dear life, trying to not cum so fast. "Your gonna be the fuckin' death of me sweetheart."
You were already soaked and he had no trouble slamming into you over and over again, his pace quick and intense as at any moment someone could come walking through the door and hear you two going at it like a couple of teenagers, screwing wherever the mood struck.
Over and over his cock thrust into your core, the wet sounds of skin slapping against one another music to his ears that only fueled his passions further. You were a dream, a fucking vision of lustful beauty, and the way you felt only matched.
What was he supposed to do, not be obsessed? Fuck that, you were the best goddamn thing to happen to the manky bastard and it made him absolutely crazy about you.
Shit the pressure felt divine as the angle of his penetration made certain to engage your sensitive clit as well. Mix that with the tingling in your limbs from the alcohol and you were already dancing dangerously close to the edge of your orgasm.
"Yes, y-yes," you repeated in increasing volume, breasts bouncing up and down against his chest as he pounded into you.
"That's it sweetheart," he praised, "come on. Let go for me baby."
The wall of the stall shaking, the creak of the paper dispenser beneath you, the relentless place of Simon's hips snapping against yours was all to much.
"Cum with me," you begged.
"I'm already there luv," he replied quickly, "just let go. Come on pretty girl, come on."
In and out, in and out of your tight cunt a few more times, his abs clenching as Simon's own orgasm popped off and you were gone, crying out as your body shook from the release of pressure like a least in the wind.
Shit you saw fucking stars with that one.
As you both rode out the end of your pleasure together, that's when you heard the door open and a pair of heavy booted footsteps cross the floor. Simon's large palm cupped over the entirety of your mouth to stifle the last of your orgasmic moans, his cock still buried within you as whoever it was went about their business, taking a piss as was evident by the sound.
The urinal flushed after a few moments, followed by footsteps to the sink. A quick wash and the both of you thought the coast would soon be clear and you'd be able to finish up and head out.
"Be sure and come back to join us when your done, yeah?" the voice of your captain sounded through the tiny room; you'd been caught red handed. "Would hate to see you two leave early...again."
Well fuck, guess the cat was out of the bag now. Simon chuckled as he leaned in and gave you a kiss as the door to the bathroom shut, leaving you two alone in silence again.
"Oops," Simon whispered against your lips before he planted another heavy, greedy kiss to them, "too bad I'm not sorry."
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callofdudes · 10 months
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Best idea
Y/n had to go MIA/KIA to keep the 141 safe, once Simon founds out angry cause he mourned for his best friend only to find out their alive and in hiding, demanded platonic cuddles as their “punishment”
Ok, I'm gonna get the brain juices running for this one. Another one based off a story my bestie @itsscromp and I did. But I changed it up. Hope you enjoy, it's longer than I anticipated it being.
Also, I should have fully expected the repercussions of letting you guys vote Egg as a callsign... but I'ma still use it.
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Where did you go??
Summary: They thought you were gone, dead. Turns out you were under their noses and a call away the whole time.
Cw: Angst. Nothing much else.
Your mission had gone... Well for lack of a better word it went to shit. Whole thing blew up. An ambush, a bomb, it would be a long road to explain what all in all happened but it did, and now you were paying for it. It had gotten so bad they couldn't pull you from the junction you were stuck in.
You were supposed to be infiltrating an old base which had become home to a drug ring. But no one happened to mention the mines you'd step on and fuck up your leg with. Or the live wire that alerted the whole base after said mine went off.
So now this entire base was up in arms, you have a broken leg and probably other damage. You were lucky your leg hadn't been blown off.
And to be quite frank, these men were extremely dangerous which meant your fuck up was astronomical. The second they found you you were probably going to die.
So you commed into Price, telling him your situation.
"Alright Egg, I'm going to go in on foot and bring you back to the helicopter just hang tight soldier."
"Yes sir." You lay down, catching your breath and willing yourself not to look at your leg because if it felt bad it probably looked bad too.
Not twenty minutes later Price was approaching your form, bending down to check on you. "You broken??"
"Yeah I'm pretty sure... I don't want to look though."
Price nodded, tucking his gun away and grabbed your arms. "Alright, up we go," he hauled you up into his arms, hefting you over his shoulder and going back the way he came. Just... A little quicker this time since things were looking good for the oppositions infantry.
Price brought you back to the helicopter where you were bandaged up. The mission could have been better planned so they didn't end up sending another team out.
Price had the team drop you off near some loading stations far off the location of the base.
"What... Are we doing here??"
Price got out of the helicopter and checked your leg before pulling you out with him. "I can't bring you back to base. It's a security risk if I do..."
You frowned. "What do you mean?? Where am I going then??"
"There's a secure underground safehouse that will keep you hidden. It's got the provisions you need and the people you need. They'll keep quiet and keep you safe. For now, for however long, I need you to lay low."
You opened your mouth to protest but then shut it again. "I understand. Will I get to see the others..?"
"No, you are not to contact them in any way at all. Until I contact you, you are to remain on the downlow."
Your head falls slightly, but you nod. "Alright, I can do that."
Price nodded and patted your shoulder. He picked you up and helped you into the truck waiting for you. "They'll take care of you. I'll contact you as soon as it's safe. If I do not contact you do not contact us. Got it?"
You nod once again, taking the instructions to heart. You wouldn't be able to contact Ghost, Soap or Gaz. You wouldn't be able to contact anyone. But you knew this was for the best.
So with a last goodbye Price closed the door to the truck and the soldier in the driver's seat drove down the empty road out of the landing space.
"How long will we be gone??"
"Until we get the word from Captain Price. Don't worry. It'll be kept under wraps..."
...
Price returned to the base, taking a deep breath and having had time to figure everything out. He immediately called the others into a meeting.
Considering you and Price weren't supposed to be back for the rest of the day, or even two days or more the meeting was seen as urgent.
Ghost was there first, the sergeants following his trail as they came into the office. "Price... What are you doing back?" Ghost asked sternly, hands clasped tightly as if ready for action at a moments notice.
"Relax... There won't be any fighting. I need you all to sit."
Soap threw Gaz a concerned look as they sat. "Where is y/n, are they still out there??"
Price straightened his posture. He didn't exactly want to lie to his own men, but he'd done worse and he knew this was completely for the best.
"The mission didn't go well as soon as we went in."
Ghost frowned. "Didn't go well?? These drug traders could be connected to Shepherd's on power, how did it wrong??"
"Ghost, relax." Price replied firmly. "I realize that we didn't think this over as well as we should have... Their base was much more protected than we originally thought so Egg went in blind."
"So what happened? Did you pull them??" Ghost was growing more agitated the longer they sat there.
"They commed in about an exploded mine and... We couldn't find them."
The room grew quiet. Soap and Gaz shared concerned looks as Gaz spoke up. "Did you do a full search? We're they hidden in the dirt or something and you missed??"
Price shook his head. "Too risky to go on foot and search. We didn't know how many more mines were out there." Only a small white lie, but a lie nonetheless.
Ghost squared in his chair. "Then we need to go find them. What are we sitting here for just waiting-!"
"Ghost, if they are safe they'll comm in. For now I can't risk sending men in there with the base on high alert and their supposed boss on speed dial. So for now we sit down and we wait to see if Egg comes back with anything."
Ghost was boiling up underneath. Feelings of rage that Price couldn't have waiting a little longer. Worry because they left you out there probably still alive... And fear. Because what if you weren't alive.
"I won't make any calls on it now, but this is where we are at so remain patient. I'm doing what I can to sort this out." Price had to rewire this plan to keep all of his men safe. All of his soldiers, including you.
"Dismissed."
The air was tense when everyone left. The idea you were out there alone, still alive and possibly if not injured and with no help. It scared them all.
Gaz was the first to try and get in contact with you. But any of his efforts were proving ineffective.
Soap just had to wait it out. To hope they could find you or you could find them in time.
Ghost... Ghost didn't know what to think. He knew you were capable. He knew if you were alive then you'd comm in. Once you were safe he knew you would make contact. You could protect yourself... He had to believe you would be ok.
That mentality lasted right up until a week later when Price called everyone back in to pronounce you MIA. Stamped on a card to your file and just like that, they truly had zero traces of you.
They were devastated. A week and no turn of anything from you. This is when Simon started to call your phone. Leaving you text messages.
He couldn't sleep because all his thoughts and dreams were of you. Hoping you were ok and alive. That hope was dying, waking up in cold sweats on nights he could close his eyes for even a moment.
Clutching his beating heart while his body rattled with panic, phone pressed to his ear only to hear your voice over the same simple voice mail as ever.
He couldn't be without you. You were a crucial part of his life. Of his mission. He couldn't just abandon that connection. You had to be alive.
Price cut communication with the safe house you were being taken care of. Unless it was an emergency Price knew not of your condition, only that you were safe. He too was worried, bouncing around through meetings and talking with Laswell and this and that and the other thing.
Trying to figure out what to do now that they needed a new plan and how long they could wait to re-infiltrate.
Simon had started leaving you voicemails, not knowing if he'd ever hear your voice again.
"Hey, this is Y/n, I'm currently busy but please try to leave a message so I can get back to you!"
Simon laid awake, staring up at the ceiling as he held the phone to his ear.
"Y/n.... If you can hear me you gotta respond. Please, I don't know if you'll ever hear these again but if you're somewhere out there I know you're alive. Anything, please, I..." He closed his eyes, thinking back to the last time he saw you. Taking off in that helicopter, a pat on the shoulder and a good luck...
"I miss you. And I'm not giving up on you. I'm not." He wouldn't cry... He wouldn't cry. He would not cry.
"I'm going to come find you. I know somewhere you're still alive. Even if their torturing you I promise I won't leave you out there to die you hear me."
Tears rolled down his cheeks and he covered his eyes, curling up on his bed. "I know you hear me...." He choked out. "I know you can hear me...." He stares at the phone. "Please Y/n.... Please, anything..."
He stared at the phone, waiting like you would magically pick up and reassure him even for a second that you were ok and alive and even if you weren't thriving you were still breathing.
But no...
The voicemail lasted for over an hour. Simon laid there, staring at him phone, unable to bring himself to hang up again.
His thumb hovered over the phone. He wanted to say one last thing... He opened his mouth, but he hesitated. His eyes downcast and one last tear rolled down his cheek as he ended the call once again. Only to face another restless night of no sleep.
By the eighth month mark you were pronounced KIA.
Simon had pretty much known by that point. He'd lost his best friend but he had been in denial until Price told them. They couldn't find a trace of you. No body, no tags, no clothes, no weapon. You had simply... Vanished.
Simon continues to mourn all while you were still being held up in that underground safehouse. Sitting on the small rickety bed, watching the higher ranked soldiers also staying watch at the safehouse talk in the other room.
It was beyond difficult. No contact with outside, you ate, slept, the others tended to your leg and occasionally sparred with you to help you back on your feet.
You missed your team. Your friends. Your family.
You listened to every single voicemail Simon sent. You couldn't reply. Couldn't text him back or even pick up the phone for a second to let him know you were ok.
You remained radio silent.
Even as you'd lay awake at night with your phone replaying the voicemail, listening to the recorded lapse of Simon's breathing while he stared at the phone with an empty, sorrowful expression from the other side.
You missed him so much. You wanted to see them again. But you couldn't. Not yet. Would you ever get to see them again?? They couldn't leave you down here forever.
There was a brief knock on your door as one of the sergeants nodded to you. "Food is ready, new supply just came in."
You nod, pausing the voicemail. "Thanks... I'll be out in a minute."
You sighed, turning off your phone and tucking it away, praying that you'd see them soon.
...
Simon had lost you. Didn't even get a chance to protect you. It had gotten to the point where his lack of sleep would lead to seeing figures of you disappear down hallways. In a spark of hope and joy he'd rush to find you only to find nothing...
On the off days he'd run into a recruit or a sergeant wandering the halls. As soon as they would turn around though... The illusion would shatter.
His own mind was killing him from the inside. Sending you hundred and hundreds of text messages. Every morning and night, rants about his day and what he was feeling. If he was going to pour everything out like you'd ever see it he did it now.
Knowing you'd never pick that phone up again, knowing you'd never look him in the eyes again. Knowing he'd never hear your voice or feel your touch or know your comfort ever again.
This drove him further and further into the spiral. Price had never seen Simon beat up the punching bag so much he bled all over it. He'd never seen Simon get snappy and angry I'm split decisions like he did.
He'd never seen Simon grow so desperate and over protective of Johnny and Kyle. Because Simon's new fear was he'd lose them just like he lost you...
This went on for the next three months after that. Nearly a year since you'd died and they were back out on that minefield. A proper plan, a new way in, a new goal.
Simon was desperate to tear that base apart and even find a trace of your body. Even just a piece of your clothing or your signature engraved gun hanging in their armory somewhere.
But in the end he was left with no more questions answered than when he first entered that meeting room eleven months ago.
Simon had followed the trail to the last thread. The main office of that base. Pulling open every drawer and every cabinet.
"Lt stop you're making a mess-!"
"There's got to be a file or something here! There fucking has to be!"
"Ghost stop we found the information we needed. We have the shipments contained the base is clear what could you be looking for??" Gaz asked, trying to understand what had gotten Ghost in such a frenzy.
"A kill list or an interrogation chart. Anything."
"For what Simon!?"
"For Y/n!!" Simon snapped at them both. Breathing heavy as he finishes emptying every drawer in that office.
Price stood silently in the doorway. Enough time had passed. He wouldn't put them through this anymore.
"Come on lads... I think it's time I show you something."
Their attention turned on to him. Simon was almost vibrating with rage and anxiety. He just wanted any knowledge of what happened. He knew you were dead but his soul was restless without knowing. He needed to know...
They left, Price piled them in the helicopter and the ride back was silent. Simon stared at his hands the whole time. Soap fidgeted, knee bouncing and chewing his lip anxiously.
Gaz picked at the loose strap of his gun, also attempting to distract himself from the elephant in the room.
When the helicopter landed they weren't on base. They landed on the small helipad you had been brought to some some before. Price got out, motioning the other three to follow.
"Where are we Price??" Soap looked around, not recognizing the place.
"You'll know soon enough." Price brought them to a truck, talking with the officer in charge of the station before climbing in the driver's seat.
The sergeants got comfy in the back and Simon slipped into the passenger seat. His eyes remained fixed on the passenger window, watching the open land pass by and the fields of undisturbed flowers and wildlife.
What if he had found you here? May you would have liked that better. Surrounded by the flowers and the soft blowing breeze instead of wherever your body lay, ashes or not.
He turned away, fixing his eyes to the dashboard to try and distract himself.
The ride was quiet once again. Lasting about an hour and a half before Price stopped, parking the vehicle outside a small outpost of sorts. It wasn't build very high off the ground and was concealed by trees and wildlife.
"A safehouse. Why cannae we jus' go home??" Soap asked as he jumped out of the vehicle with the others.
"I'd prefer we made a stop here." Price said, leading them to the entrance where surpisingly a soldier was there to bring them in.
"Occupied? Now there's something new." Gaz whispered to Soap.
Simon didn't understand why they were even making this stupid trip. He wanted to go back to base. He wanted to hide once again like he always did.
"Captain Price, welcome back." The soldier shook Price's hand and walked them further inside.
"Sergeant! Their here for you!" The soldier called out, walking to one of the small rooms where you were. Where you spent most of your time.
You looked up. Who was here for you?? Your eyes widened. Them, your team! It had to be them they were back!
You pushed off your bed, leaning into your good leg and moved faster than you had in almost a year. Turning the corner and there they were. Price, Simon, Johnny, Kyle. All of them.
But.... This wasn't the hopeful reunion you'd pictured in your head over and over again. No one moved. The thought of Simon rushing the hug you didn't come true as he didn't move.
Price walked over, embracing you. "Good to see you again sergeant." You hugged him tightly, so good to be held by him, embraced by Price again. You'd missed him so much.
Johnny was the second one to snap out of it, running over and wrapping his arms around you tightly. "What the hell is wrong with you doing this! You had us all sick and worried and heartbroken!!"
"It wasn't my plan... I'm sorry." You hugged Johnny back. "I'm so sorry Soap, I'm so sorry." Johnny couldn't stop his tears, not wanting to let go in fear you'd slip away again.
Gaz followed, hugging you tighter than you'd ever felt him do before. You'd never seen Gaz openly cry but he was balling, sobbing as he hugged you tightly.
"We thought you were dead, captain told us you were dead!"
"I had to do it to protect them... To protect all of us." Price knew this would probably take a bit for them all to come to terms and forgive him for, but it had to be done.
When the others were done cooing and coddling over you, there was just Simon left.
He felt alone. He felt cold and separated. He felt like he wasn't a part of the same bubble as the others... He watched them embrace and kiss and love on you... You. It was you.
You turned to him, but Simon didn't move. He didn't know if he could. He felt so consumed by his darkness and his grief it didn't allow him to step into the light.
He'd consumed himself so much if he touched you he felt he might burn. That you fall like sand from his fingertips and the illusion would shatter...
"Simon...." You whisper, stepping toward him, causing Simon to step back.
You could see the fear in his eyes. The lack of trust, the amount of hurt, the pain he must have went through to have one of his lifelines ripped away and then thrust back into his life suddenly like it was fine.
"I'm... I'm sorry Simon I didn't mean to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail you sent. I knew every text that went through. But I...."
"You could have told me you were fine! You could have told me you were ok!! Bullshit that you couldn't!! Bullshit!!" Simon thundered.
You remained silent. Simon glared at Price. This was his fault. You'd been taken away without warning. He could have kept it a secret he could have carried that knowledge and not been out through a years worth of fire from hell!
Simon threw his gun to the ground, not even carrying as he left again.
"Lieutenant! Simon!" Price called after him as Simon left the safehouse.
You placed your hand on Price's chest. "Don't... It's ok. Let me help him."
Price looked down. But he nodded.
You left the safehouse, finding Simon around the corner huddled up, shaky hands trying to light a cigarette to get his nerves to calm down and his mind to clear up.
"You hid from me." He cursed, acting like he was seconds from spitting your name into the dirt and squashing it. But you knew. You knew inside he was hurting more than anyone else on the team.
You knelt beside him, gently taking the lighter from his hands. "I never meant to hurt you. If I didn't have strict orders from Price I would have contact you right away."
"Why couldn't he have at least told us you were ok. That you were alive."
"I... I don't know Simon, you'll have to ask Price about that one. But I promise I never meant to hurt you. I listened to every voicemail, I didn't give up. I can see the pain it caused you."
You moved closer, slipping into his arms and hugging him tightly. The second you wrapped your arms around him. He felt your weight, your warmth, your heart pounding in your chest against his own.
Simon finally looked at you, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was shattered. So hurt from losing you.
"You fuckin' abandoned me!!"
"I didn't abandon you Simon. You know I would have picked up and came running back even if my leg was missing."
He knew it was true. But he was so... So angry and torn and upset. He wanted to scream and fight and he felt so small and helpless.
The real you.
Not some illusion passing corners or drifting through his peripherals. The you he could touch and hold and protect.
His arms wrapped around you tightly, never letting go of you even once. He didn't stop those tears as he pulled you impossibly closer.
"I'm here Simon. I'm not leaving again ok? I'm right here."
He remained silent, crying as he held onto you. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck. It felt like hours passed. It felt like time slowed. What felt like two hours was twenty minutes when he finally pulled away enough to look at your face.
To see the light in your glimmering eyes, to see every feature of your face that made you, you.
His sergeant. His teammate. His family.
You smiled softly, gently pulling up his mask off his head to cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb gently over the dimple in his cheek you've seen when he shows you his smile.
"Smudged your paint a little bit," You whisper. "Let's get that fixed." You gently brush your finger over his face, feeling him start to relax at that familiar and missed touch as you fix the paint around his eyes.
"There we go. How can I help Simon. What will help make this better?"
Simon tried to flick away the rest of his tears, huffing softly. "Cuddles. And you are not allowed to say no after what you put me through. This is your punishment for making me go through that shit!"
You chuckle. "Oh, cuddles with Simon, scary. I'll pay the fine, I'll do all the punishment time of cuddles you request. Sound good?"
Simon nods his head.
"Ok, well how about we go inside now? I could use some cuddles too."
You were about to get up when Simon hugged you again. "I'm glad you're ok..."
You smiled softly, kissing the top of his head. "I am too Simon." You help his mask back on and the two of you head inside.
Simon would let out his feelings to Price sometime later when his head felt less foggy. For now, he was content to crash on the rickety old safehouse bed and koala cling to you till kingdom come.
Nuzzling up and holding you tightly, not letting you go for even a itty bitty millisecond.
And you were fine with that. You were glad you could be back with your family. Simon was glad to welcome you back. You'd be serving a lot of cuddle prison time. A strenuous task, but one all too rewarding.
Running your hand down the back of his head, scratching his back to help him relax and set himself at ease.
All he needed was to koala crush your soul into his soul, and then he'd be ok. Slowly, his eyes started to close after the exhaustion of the mission, but he fought to keep them open.
"I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise, I won't be going anywhere." You whisper to him.
"You promise?"
"I double swear it. I won't leave. I'll be right here."
He snuggled you impossibly closer and let his eyes close. He let his mind rest. His heart soak in you and heal. Slowly you could help mend what has fallen apart.
And cuddles were never a bad place to start...
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papergirllife · 8 months
Text
Jeong Jaehyun
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CEO!Jaehyun x Secretary!reader
Synopsis:
You and Jaehyun take a trip to Florence and things get interesting on a boat with a surprise at the end :)))
warnings: public s*x (kinda), unprotected s*x, ch*king, br**ding kink, c*ck warming, strength kink, brief sub drop, tooth rotting fluff.
a/n: sorry i can't make it in time for a halloween fic, that would probably come out a bit later than expected :((, so here's a little treat instead to keep you guys sated :)))
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The summer breeze feels freeing against your skin, the salt air is something you don't want to forget, the sea is a sparkling teal, you could really get used to this.
"What's on your mind, love?" Jaehyun asks, his big arms wrapped around your waist, his chin perched on your shoulder, you can feel his breath tickling your ears.
"That I'm gonna miss this very much when we're back in Seoul," you say with a longing sigh at the beautiful view.
Jaehyun hums in agreement, watching you swirl your glass of white wine before taking a long sip, you're taking in the beautiful view of Florence's sea view while he takes in his view, you, your hair blowing by, his prada sunglasses perched on the beautiful slope of your nose, your lips shining from the latest lip oil he's splurged on you after he's seen you watching numerous tiktoks of it. 
"We can come here again, you know," Jaehyun proposes, his cheek brushing against yours, nuzzling into your warmth.
"One, you have a company to run. Two, it's too expensive to do this again," you chide, it's been days already and still you never miss to mention the fact that Jaehyun dropped a bomb to plan this trip and book a whole yacht for the two of you, including a league of staff at your beck and call, the chef himself is from some really popular restaurant, his fresh pasta is to die for, you're sure the price for his services is deadly as well.
"I told you this before, I'd give you the whole world if you want," Jaehyun reminds you with a playful nudge of his head at yours, getting a laugh out of you.
"And how many times do I have to remind you? You as your own person is the equivalent of my world, not Jeong Jaehyun the CEO of a huge company, and not the benefits that come with your financial position," you say with a huff, you just know this trip is at least a year's worth of your salary, that he keeps adding for no reason mind you, what's the use of money when this man doesn't let you spend a cent of your own coin when he's around?
"I know, sweetheart, I just like spoiling you, treat it as a kink of mine, that I have this obsession with giving you princess treatment," Jaehyun says, trying to explain himself into your good books again.
"Whatever, I'm still not letting you spend a cent on groceries though," you argue, that was the deal when you moved in with him and found out that he paid for everything, utilities, necessities, your wardrobe; it was almost impossible to get him to agree to let you spend on groceries, that and whatever you manage to pick up on your way back when he works later than you, like that robot vacuum and mop hybrid you splurged on, and spending more on better quality groceries, including wine, which got a huff out of your mostly patient boyfriend.
"Wine is wine," he argued, hands on his waist, his brows furrowed, but you see right through him, he could never get mad at you.
"I put wine in pasta, and it's sold in the grocer, so it's considered as groceries," you say with a smug tone, and at that moment, Jaehyun thinks you look borderline cunning.
"Fine…"
"When we're married, I'm going to have to reevaluate our terms," Jaehyun says with a chuckle, kissing your temple.
"That's not going to be soon anyways," you say with a huff before finishing your glass of pricey wine.
"That can be changed," Jaehyun says, snatching the empty glass out of your hands, passing it to the staff before he tells her to dismiss everyone below deck.
"Right, as if you want to be tied down this quickly," you say, turning from the railing to face Jaehyun, slapping his chest playfully.
"Why? You don't think I love you enough to be tied down to you?" Jaehyun asks, the mirth disappearing in his eyes, catching you off guard.
"You're still very young, men don't like settling down so quickly," you say, cupping his cheeks, patting his cheeks, you love his mochi cheeks. 
"I'm 26, not 16, I know what I want, and that's loving you, for eternity," Jaehyun mumbles, talking despite his cheeks being squished by you, which he's quick to change, grasping your hands in his, placing them on his sturdy shoulders, "I'll prove my love to you," Jaehyun says before he slams his lips to yours, catching you off guard.
After 3 years of being with him, you still get light headed from the way he kisses you, and he knows, manoeuvring you to the big L shaped sofa.
"I'm going to prove to you now, that my love for you is as endless as the skies and the seas," Jaehyun promises after his lips part from yours. 
You quickly peel your clothes off of you, savouring Jaehyun's lustful eyes on you.
"You're a sight to behold," Jaehyun mutters before he reconnects his lips with yours. 
He just can't get enough of you today, how sweet you taste, your lip oil, the taste of bitter grape on your tongue, he's a fiend and you're his drug.
He shudders when he feels your hands make a quick work of getting rid of his clothes, your soft hands trailing through the arms that he's trained very hard for, grasping onto his biceps, Jaehyun smiles at the action, you've always been a fan of his muscles, spending your free time reading while Jaehyun works out in his personal gym, not a page turned.
Jaehyun breaks the kiss, looking at you with love drunk eyes.
"Get on fours for me, facing the ocean, let the world see how I worship my baby," Jaehyun says with mirth, eyes shining like a boy on Christmas day.
"As you wish, boss," you say before breaking out laughing when you see your boyfriend's deadpan expression.
"Very funny," Jaehyun muses before he gets distracted by the sight of your ass, a hand outstretched to smack one of your cheeks lightly, his cock growing hard at the sight of your cheek jiggling in his hold.
Jaehyun gets comfortable on the sofa before he bends down to get a quick taste, adjusting your body to his height, or he'd get a neck cramp and an earful from you later. 
Jaehyun groans when he gets an actual taste, and with one taste, he's hooked, tongue going from kitten licks to sinking his tongue deep inside your cunt, a hand grasping your cheeks open while his other hand makes its way to your sweet bundle of nerves, rotating your clit in slow circles, sending shocks down where Jaehyun's situated, drenching his mouth with your sweet juices, dripping down his chin, and the sounds you make, calling out to his name with that airy high pitched tone that only he gets to hear, if there's one thing that Jaehyun would never try in bed with you is gagging, god forbid him cockblocking himself from an eargasm, not even his favourite artists could compare to this personal melody only he gets to listens to.
You’re not the type to be super loud or something, in fact, Jaehyun often needs to remind you to be as loud as you want to be, and now with the staff being dismissed, you still fear that you’d be heard by anyone lingering nearby, but Jaeyhyun’s skillful tongue has your inhibitions down, his tongue and fingers strumming your body like a guitar, and he can tell you’re close, with the way you’ve drenched his hand, hips unconsciously pushing back to meet his touch, when his hands meet your swollen bundle of nerves, gasps of his name reach Jaehyun’s ears before he feels your juices drip down his hand.
Jaehyun has that smirk that you always tease for looking like an evil character in the dramas you always watch, the one where his face makes unconsciously, usually when he manages to get you flustered or at times like these, when Jaehyun makes a mess out of you just from his sheer dedication and familiarity of your body that he had studied obsessively.
“You need a rest, sweetheart?” Jaehyun asks when he helps you turn to face him again.
“I’m ready, we need to hurry up, I don’t want the staff to think we’re having sex right now,” you say before swivelling your hips on his length, he’s already hard and it’s just from pleasuring you, the thought has flowers blooming in your heart.
“But we are fucking right now,” Jaehyun said before he bellows out a full on laugh, which led to you shushing him with the palm of your hand.
“Exactly, that’s why we need to hurry up,” you said before you give Jaehyun back his ability to talk, positioning yourself away from Jaehyun, and suddenly, Jaehyun’s second favourite sight comes into view, the only ‘human’ peach he desires.
“So romantic of you,” Jaehyun jokes, lightly smacking your butt, he could never get bored of doing that.
“I want to enjoy the view,” you say with a huff, finally settling into a spot where the cushion feels comfortable under your elbows and knees.
“See how the horizon looks endless? My love for you is as deep as the sea, and as limitless as the sky,” Jaehyun says by your ear before he crouches over you to kiss you, he always does that, sealing his affirmations for you with a kiss.
Just a quick one, then he traces your back with his lips, the soft kisses tracing your arched spine, way down till your tailbone before he rises up again, his warm palms spreading you open gently, the sea breeze hitting your most intimate parts of you, the cool feeling quickly fading when you feel Jaehyun’s length sinking inside you, the stretch so familiar, comforting even, as the pleasure that only Jaehyun could give you once again dance through your nerves, and the feeling of being so full, so complete, you don’t think you’d want to live a world without Jaehyun, not when you’re an addict for this man you call your lover, the power he holds over you is stronger than any temptation this world has to offer.
Your eyes go cross when Jaehyun finally deems you ready for him to pick up the pace, he locates your sweet spot with the blunt of his tip, and you lose some of your composure, Jaehyun’s name escaping your lips, his name broken in parts of two and three, depending on the rhythm of his hips, and soon the beautiful view in front of you is distorted from your lust altered vision, the horizon blurring into one, just like you and Jaehyun, bodies smudged into one being, fused together by the love the two of you share.
“Ready to fall apart again, my love?” Jaehyun asks, his voice laboured from his movements, at first you didn’t know what he was saying, that is, until you feel his fingertips grazing your clit again, your hips jerking at the touch, still sensitive from before, but Jaehyun, being the service dom he is, he never wants to push you into a quick succession without your permission, hence he waits for the quick nod of your head and the breathless yes you barely managed to utter before he draws figure eights onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, he reads your body like an open book, the way you’re slumped forward, arms supporting your body instead of your elbows now, he just knows he’s going to get complaints about how he tires your body out every time you guys have sex.
Jaehyun’s spare hand winds around the base of your neck, pulling you up with a gasp of your lips, his lips touching yours, his nose digging into your cheek, the feeling so domestic, so distracting that you didn’t even notice his hand leaving your neck before you feel one of your nipples pinched between his fingers, and that’s what pushes you over the edge, your body already high strung from just his cock inside you, but his pace stutters before you feel the warmth of his seed paint your walls, the feeling sending a shudder down your back.
Jaehyun rides out your high with slow and deep thrusts, and when he starts picking up the pace again, you indulge him, just as much as he indulges in you, he knows you love a little bit of pain, sending your body into another wave of pleasurable crescendo with a cry of his name and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, and then he stops, pulling out of you gently while he whispers of how good you were for him amongst other praises that ground you after a heavier session like that. 
“You with me baby?” Jaehyun asks while he manoeuvres you on your back, palms cradling your cheeks as if he’s trying to pull you back to the right headspace, and after a few blinks to clear your head, you remember who you are and most importantly, where you are.
“Oh my god, we need to hurry and get dressed,” you say, your eyes frantically scanning around to find your clothes.
“Hey, no rush, I’ll find your clothes and dress you, you just sit here and catch your breath, okay?” Jaehyun assures you before he quickly fetches your clothes and dresses you, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before he dresses himself and retrieves the pitcher of water to fill your glass for you, handing it to you, you didn’t realise how thirsty you were until you finished it.
“Feeling better now?” Jaehyun asks after draining his own glass.
“Yeah, would’ve liked having you stay inside me for a bit longer though, but this is definitely not the place to do so,” you say with a chuckle.
“Let’s retire back to our cabin then, I want cuddles anyways,” Jaehyun suggests before he sweeps you off the couch, carrying you bridal style down back to your room. 
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When the two of you wake, it’s evening and the chef is preparing your dinner on deck, the scent of pasta sauce making your stomach rumble after what Jaehyun put you through. 
“Are you excited to go to Milan tomorrow? It’s fashion week after all,” Jaehyun says, he used the excuse of his artists’ brand endorsement to travel all the way here, not that he needed one, but the board’s old men are sometimes very…demanding.
“Yeah, I’m excited to see the Galleria, it always looks so pretty in photos,” you say, when Jaehyun first announced the two of you would be going to Italy, you quickly looked up what's famous there, other than the leaning tower and the colosseum. 
“We can go there right after we rest up, and the fashion show doesn’t take all that long, business meetings are the day after the show, so we’ll have plenty of time together,” Jaehyun promises, he’s always been so accommodating to you, always trying his best to balance his work and you, and for that, you’ll always be grateful.
“You’re sure it’s not getting in the way of your work?” you ask, but Jaehyun is quick to shake his head no, before the chef announces that dinner is served.
Dinner was brief, both of you were starving from today’s strenuous activity, and now you and Jaehyun are once again seated on the sofa, planning to take a walk around town for dessert after your dinner digests.
“There’s something I need to do before we dock,” Jaehyun says before he sees the staff once again retreating down below deck, glad that they remember his request for them to do so.
“What is it?” you ask, quickly assuming that he needs to take a call from Seoul or something, he tries not to, but you know it’s a given with his job and you respect it.
Then, Jaehyun gets down on one knee, his hand reaching into his pant’s pocket to reach for something bulky, and when you see the velvet material, your heart drops.
“I remember what you said this afternoon, about men my age not willing to settle down so soon, but I’m here, down on one knee, to prove to you that I’m willing to settle down young, If you give me the chance, I’d love if you gave me the chance to be truly yours, I know I’m a busy man, and that I have moments where I don’t give you enough of my time and attention,” Jaehyun says with melancholy swimming in his eyes, and immediately you shake your head, but before you could open your mouth to protest, Jaehyun continues his speech, “I spent three years with you now, lived together for two, but I want to spend every life with you if given the chance, so in this life, would I be able to have the honour to officially call you mine? You can finally be Mrs Jeong,” Jaehyun says with utmost sincerity, even the little inside joke he tacked on is a goal of his.
“Jaehyun, I’d be a dumbass to not say no,” you say before squatting down to his level, tackling him against the sofa with a big fat kiss, your weight crashing down on him, the air getting pushed out of his lungs from your sheer force, but Jaehyun would let you do it over and over again if it means he gets to see you smile this wide, everyday of his life.
“Thank you, sweetheart, I love you, more than you’d ever imagine, Mrs Jeong.”
“I love you too, Mr Jeong.”
824 notes · View notes
alwaysshallow · 8 months
Note
I've had a epiphany. (a self-indulgent one.)
Well not really- but I can't stop thinking about it and I wanna call it that so just ignore this
Parent Trap Captain! John! Price! X Reader
can be GN, I don't mind
Subtle changes like- they didn't meet on a cruise ship but actually dated some time during and after military school and then got married.
and they were just in a really rough patch when Reader! got pregnant so they decided to part ways
(and split the kids too! :D) lol.
Meet again 9 years later when Reader sends her kid off to camp at the same time as John.
Both the kids see them together (acting like ex-lovers and shi 🤭) but they don't see eachother until later that day and they're like "Woah! we look just like eachother! :oo"
Anyway you get the gist..
urs truly
💎 anon
i LOVE parent!trap au with john price oh my god anon. I JUST HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING
John never stopped loving you.
You hear this nine years after your divorce, when life decides to pull the greatest prank on you and both of you, you and your ex-husband, sent your kids to the same camp.
Twins, to be exact. They have no idea of the other one because it was supposed to be easier, to not see each other, at least until they're a bit older.
You talk to John out of simple human decency, with no intention to continue it whatsoever, especially not when your ex-husband has a smile wide like a Cheshire cat, and he's a devil in disguise. He just screams trouble, and he is one, when he shamelessly follows you to your car.
"It just seems like fate, binding us again" he leans against your car (his, he bought it himself, but insisted on leaving it to you). You want to tell him something about this, but you tie your mouth. If you're gonna go into bickering, he's gonna have a time of his life. He's just waiting for it.
"It seems like fate tells us that's the time for our daughters to meet–"
"–old Lucy is a little bit rusty." he hums, looking at your car. "There's a little dent here. I think I could fix it."
"You don't–"
"–probably needs a change of oil too. You've never been into cars, I need my kid to be safe and sound, you too, missus."
Missus. You want to fight him for that title, but he's just not listening. He's just asking questions and answering them himself, like you're not even a part of this conversation. The only times he pays attention is when he looks at you, his ocean blue eyes glistening, wrinkles in his eyes evident.
He's so different, yet, so familiar. Your daughter would love to meet his dad, probably.
You quickly brush that thought off your mind. You can't think like that. It's a trap, he wants you to think this way. You divorced with him for a reason.
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ohmygraves · 4 months
Note
Hello, this is my first time jump into someone's ask box. May i have a request Gaz or any TF141 men you think would fit with reader who has big bruises on their body (they got it from mission or simply after training) but reader choose to hide it and tend the bruises by them selves. The man found this out by accident when they're changing clothes or whatever scenario you would put up. It's a bit angst but with a lot of comfort afterwards. You may ignore this if you feel uncomfortable with this trope..
Sincerely
Anon from Indonesia UTC+8
hello anon, thank you so much for requesting! i feel like they all would be concerned if the reader got hurt but refused to go get it checked with the medics (⁠ ⁠・ั⁠﹏⁠・ั⁠) so i will try to write some bits for all of them 💖 i hope you like it, sorry it took so long!
you got hurt on the last mission you went to with gaz.
you, captain price, and the sergeant were on the comms line together. you're in charge of backing up kyle when he infiltrates the building, and was talking with laswell and price. some dumb jokes, catching up with the station chief, stuff like that. the mission had been slow, and you're getting bored staying out there alone glued to the scope.
looking back, you probably shouldn't have joined in on the banter. you completely missed an enemy ambushing you from behind, and had lost communications for a few minutes as you got slammed against a huge boulder, tossed around by the man who attacked you. it was a miracle you got back in one piece, only bruised and some small cuts after the scuffle. you were lucky, so lucky that you're not sure if this were to happen again, you'd probably not going to be able to return at all.
you noticed how kyle, price and laswell was worried during your disappearance from the comms line, especially since kyle kept calling for you a few times and you wouldn't answer. after you shot the man down, you brushed off your clothes and returned to your post, apologizing to everyone and explaining what had happened. you assured everything is fine, and that you're okay and can still keep going. you didn't bleed out or anything.
oh, how wrong you were.
as you sat on the exfil vehicle together with price and gaz, you're starting to feel sore. the adrenaline coursing through your veins must've dulled the pain earlier, and now that it's gone down, you're feeling the pain.
honestly, pain might be an understatement, because you feel like you just got hit by a car.
god, your body hurts. every inch of your body feels like it's screaming for mercy. you're sure that bruises are forming somewhere under your clothes, but you honestly can't be bothered to even go to the medic for this. not when kyle is bleeding beside you and price is stressed because the target escaped.
it's fine, you can deal with it later. frozen peas and some painkillers will do the job.
you didn't realize that someone did notice how you're nearly limping around to go catch up with price for a debriefing...
john price
he'd noticed that you were hurt after you returned his calls on the comms, just after you finished shooting the guy who messed you up on the field. although, he was too occupied to even press you more about it, deciding to trust you that everything is fine on your end. thankfully, you did returned to the helo in one piece, which eases his mind.
still, he couldn't help but notice how off you're walking to his office, wincing slightly as you take each step. something must've happened back then when you were cut off from comms, and he needs to know. he quickly finished debriefing and dismissed everyone else, but told you to stay behind.
you feel your bones creak every time you move, even if that doesn't seem physically possible.
"are you sure you're okay?" price asked you, crossing his arms over his chest as he examined you top to bottom, "you're limping quite awfully, doll."
"'m fine, captain... gonna go check on kyle..." you replied curtly, not wanting him to make a big deal out of it. it's just a couple of bruises, nothing bad surely.
"get it checked with the medics. and i'll know if you don't." he sighed, "i know you think you can fix it yourself, but you should get it checked either way. you may be able to fix some scrapes, but you'll need to see if you broke any ribs or not."
"but—"
"it's an order, soldier," price snapped, "no ifs or buts."
you didn't say anything, simply nodding and turned back to leave his office. you might actually do it, given how sore your body feels right now. you didn't hear that price approached you, holding your hand over the doorknob. his eyes looked closer to examine you, his free hand moving to caress your cheek, his thumb wiping off the dirt on your face.
"take care of yourself, love. please."
"i'll try, captain..."
"good. that's all i asked."
simon "ghost" riley
you decided that you want to take a shower before going to see kyle at the infirmary.
he was bleeding a lot, it might take a while to see him anyway. and you were rolling around on mud that whole mission, you feel like you were covered in dirt from head to toe. gross.
the communal shower is just a few meters away anyway.
you took a small detour to your room to grab a change of clothes, thankful that you prepared it in advance. grabbing a cargo pants and a pair of clean t-shirt, you walked into the communal shower at the base, taking off your dirty clothes and setting it aside. it'll be cleaner if you wash them yourself.
changing was hard, your arms feel like it's so sore that it's about to fall off, and not to mention you can't even move freely. maybe price was right, you broke a rib because your chest is hurting slightly when you try to pull your dirty t-shirt over your head.
"what the hell happened t'ya?"
a rough voice called out to you as you heard someone stepped closer. you glanced to see who it was as you struggled to take off your clothes, seeing the familiar mask over the face and a bare, scarred chest. oh, it's just ghost.
"ya looked like a bruised apple."
you laughed, knowing how much your body hurts right now, you kind of feel like one too.
"got thrown around during the mission with gaz and the captain," you replied, trying to wrestle your t-shirt out over your head still as you wince slightly, "just... god, no big deal, really... gaz got shot..."
ghost hummed, nodding slightly as he sees you struggling to undress. "need help?" he asked, eyeing your bruises under the t-shirt peeking out while you try to peel off the fabric off of your body.
"please do, i'm losing my mind..."
"guess someone needs t'see medic after this..."
you rolled your eyes as ghost yanked the shirt off of your body in one swoop, making you groan and hiss at the sharp pain you felt. clearly he wasn't gentle enough.
"sorry," ghost apologized. you didn't really mind, brushing it off as you kicked off your boots and pants down, throwing it somewhere in the room.
"i'll live... thanks, ghost."
he nodded, giving your head a small pat as he turned around to his own locker, his fingers messing your hair up. "don't act tough, go see the medic after this."
you didn't want to tell him that you liked that he patted you on the head, so you grumbled up a response, pouting. "yeah, yeah... you're such a worrywart."
"i mean it. those bruises are messed up."
"i know, i know... geez."
ghost shook his head as he patted your head again, a little more roughly this time, messing your hair as he got dressed and left the communal shower.
john "soap" mactavish
the moment the water hits you, you couldn't help but groan out in pain. you weren't expecting hot water or anything, but at least not something that would literally freeze your arse up. you weren't sure if cold water is better since you're far too distracted from the pain by how cold your fingertips are.
you wondered if there's any way you could get some hot water, most of the time it's always broken.
your fingers started messing with the dial, fumbling as you tried to dodge the cold water hitting those sore spots on your body.
"jesus wit happened to ye, bonnie?"
you turned around seeing soap in his naked glory, somehow. having seen everyone naked at this point, you didn't care enough to mention it. it's the shower anyway.
"got smacked across the face by the enemy earlier on mission."
"yer like a bruised pear."
you shrugged it off, "lt said apple earlier, but same difference i suppose."
he chuckled, looking at what you were doing. he didn't say anything, simply moving to adjust the water for you. after fiddling for a while, he managed to find a good enough temperature that you could enjoy.
"need help, bonnie?"
"'m good, soap. you should go see gaz."
he didn't fight you, simply giving you some head pats, chuckling when he sees your pouting face. sometimes you feel like he's treating you like a kid or like a younger sibling... well, until he gave your butt a squeeze anyway.
"ow! soap!" you yelped in pain, knowing that a bruise has formed there too. soap laughed, giving it a small pat as he teased you again.
"careful, bonnie. can't get our star all bruised now~"
you rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue at him as he walked out of the communal shower.
kyle "gaz" garrick
after taking about an hour on your "quick shower", you get changed and decide to go see gaz in medbay. knowing that he got shot made you feel awful, so you just want to see if he's okay. you're sure he's fine, but he's going to keep bitching about it for weeks.
you made your way to the medbay, seeing if you could visit kyle. he was on the bed, pouting, so you decided to walk in and sit by his bedside.
"hey, you okay?" you asked him, seeing how he's wrapped in bandages.
"have a few extra holes on me, but i'd say i'm feeling better... you?" gaz let out a sigh as he looked at you, noticing the way you sit uncomfortably on the chair because of your bruises.
"i'll live."
"they got you too, huh?" gaz sighed, looking disappointed at you, "i'll call the medics."
you didn't want to bother him, so you tried to stop him.
"what? you're hurt. just because it's bruises doesn't mean that you can just brush it off." gaz shakes his head, taking your hand in his. "i don't like seeing you get hurt."
that made you blush, your heart thumping as kyle called for the medics to check on you too. you could feel his hand on yours, thumbs caressing the back of your hand as medics approached you.
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yuurei20 · 6 months
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Hiiii!!
Okay, so question - Does Crowley give the MC any allowance? We're trying to figure out if MC has any sort of budget/need for one. I'm not sure if the cafeteria is just Lunch only (and if that's free for the students) or if it's all meals free, but then If all the school's food is free I feel like no one would use Azul's lounge nearly as much. I know in EN Chapter 2 Crowley threatens grim and MC with the cost of their living expenses - But I'm not sure if that translates to him handing them money or just a general cost of living there without tuition. If. NRC has a tuition...?
Basically - Does Crowley give MC any money regularly?
Hello hello!! Thank you for this question! :> This topic has kind of been touched upon before in response to a question about the novel prefect's allowance and NRC's tuition, but this is a great opportunity to put it all together.
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In the prologue Crowley declares that Grim and the prefect are allowed to live in Ramshackle for free, but they will need to pay for their own food, clothing and incidentals. It seems the prefect has no money on them with which to do so, so Crowley hires them as janitorial staff.
(The scene above is almost identical in the novel, with the addition of, "Your wages, well, you will be compensated fairly according to the nature of your work.")
What the game is vague about is whether or not the prefect and Grim are monetarily compensated for their work, or if they are just working in exchange for meals and clothes.
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But they do seem to have money from somewhere, purchasing various souvenirs for themselves and others throughout events, so it might not be impossible?
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Trein has a line of, "You must be judicious with the funds the headmage gave you," but we do not technically know if they received money only for Glorious Masquerade or if he is referencing money that they receive from Crowley regularly.
The novels do answer this question, but the novels will sometimes change details from game (i.e. the retconning of Leona's introduction, the addition of multiple new scenes, etc), so while it might be ok to use them as a reference, we cannot emphatically say, "this is how it is in the novels, so the game must be the same."
The second novel begins with Yuuya, Ace and Deuce making repairs to Ramshackle, and Yuuya later compensates Ace and Deuce for their help, in cash, by buying them pastries on Bakery Day in the cafeteria:
"In response, Ace and Deuce smile as they place several white packages on the table. Here and there Yuuya can see thick slices of roast beef and vibrant green lettuce. There are round breads bursting with cream, baguettes topped with melted cheese, and more—it seems they were able to buy quite a considerable amount.
But they still have change leftover, which they pass to Yuuya, so the prices must be student friendly. It makes sense that bakery days are so popular.
Still smiling, Ace and Deuce sit across from Yuuya. 
‘Thanks for the food!’
‘Gonna dig right in!’
‘Of course. Thanks for helping with the repairs to Ramshackle.’” -Twisted Wonderland the Second Novel
So novel-prefect is being paid in cash, and seems to be budgeting accordingly. This is particularly significant because it happens in Book 2, after the prefect and Grim have transitioned from janitors to students. While their roles are different, it seems they are still being paid for repairs they make.
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And this might be also happening in the game, although I don't think it is ever acknowledged aloud, with Ramshackle Dorm getting cleaned up between the Prologue and Book 5 (presumably because of the prefect and Grim working to earn their food and clothes etc.)
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An argument against this theory might be Grim's line about not being a part of janitorial staff anymore in Book 2, but while novel-Grim is also no longer janitorial staff by Book 2, he is still helping with repairs, so this comment might not be applicable.
As you say, Mostro Lounge (and the school store) would probably not be as successful if they were competing with free cafeteria food, so it is possible that the other students at the school are also following the system that the prefect uses (free lodging only).
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This would explain why Ruggie does things like wear Leona's clothes and eat wild plants: it is possible that he showed up without any money at all and is making things work day to day, exactly like the prefect.
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Also as you point out, Crowley will occasionally threaten the prefect and Grim with how they're racking up expenses that he has never agreed to cover.
This might mean that game-prefect is living at least partially on credit, charging expenses to Crowley or the school? (Which is something we know the school store can do, at least, based on Azul charging costs for cleanup of a mess made by Jack to Leona.)
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On the subject of tuition, it has also never technically been officially confirmed or disproved that scholarships or tuition are things that exist! I have seen comments that NRC is likely a private school that operates on donations and does not charge tuition, and Crowley does mention receiving donations from parents, but I do not think this has ever been stated outright in the game (or novels) and may just be conjecture at this time.
To answer the initial question: Maybe! :>
We know Novel-MC has money that they are receiving from somewhere, presumably Crowley.
And we know Game-MC is also receiving money from Crowley, but whether the cash they are being given is only for field trips or is something they are earning through repairs to Ramshackle is unconfirmed.
It is possibly one of the many things that the game is intentionally keeping vague!
(Also, I have received your follow-up question and am still hunting for info! :> Hope to answer soon!)
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just-a-sewer-goblin · 1 month
Text
Part 6 of Butcher!Simon x gn!reader We get a glimpse of the boy's groupchat too, in this. Simon is still down bad. I feel like the quality of the chapters declined but I hope it'll get back to how it was soon Gonna toss this out there and hide < Part 5 | COD Masterlist | Part 7 >
So you don’t immediately agree to go to the concert with him. Which, you know, kinda sucks. It would have been so perfect but he gets it. You wouldn’t be allowed to bring your mutt with you and he’s basically still a stranger to you (insanity, because he feels about ready to ask for your hand in marriage) so it would have actually been a surprise if you said yes.
Somehow though, he has no idea how, he convinced you to go get a coffee with him some time.
“How about a deal then?”
You’d perked up, one brow raised skeptically (an expression which had him fight the urge to get on his knees) and asked: “What kind of deal?”
“We’ll go get coffee together. And if you decide ‘m trustworthy enough, you’ll reconsider going wi’ me.”
You’d tilted your head at that brows furrowed adorably and he’d desperately wanted to kiss the cute creases between your brows and smooth them away with his thumb.
He stood stock still as you seemed to appraise him, looking him up and down. Your gaze way more intense than he anticipated but he found that he didn’t mind being looked at as long as it was you looking at him (god, he hoped you never stopped looking at him, please don’t stop looking at him).
Then you’d nodded and he felt his shoulders drop, having held them tensely in expectation.
“I want to decide where”, you’d asserted and he’d immediately agreed with a: “Anything you want, sweetheart.”
He doesn’t know what he’d be doing if you hadn’t agreed. Probably mope around at Gaz’ bar because that would have meant his chances of getting to know you are pretty much zero.
You did agree though and Simon is about ready to slap himself when he catches himself in front of his mirror with two nearly identical black shirts. Since when did he turn into someone with “I don’t know what to wear!” problems?
Since you. Simple as that and he’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t alone at home. The thought of meeting you for coffee makes him smile. He catches the soft raise of the corners of his lips and curiously watches himself in the mirror.
It’s weird, seeing himself smile and suddenly he’s even more giddy. He can’t wait to see you and make you his (whoa, there, he's gotta convince you he's harmless first, harmless to you at least).
For a second he wonders if you're going crazy over what to wear too (probably not but he can hope) and then he decides that it doesn't matter. He gets to meet you, that's the only important thing.
Honestly you could show up naked and he’d be ecstatic (okay that’s a horrible example, because he would be indeed ecstatic). No, you could show up looking like you couldn't care less and he'd be thankful that you didn't forget about meeting him.
He looks at himself in the mirror, sighs over his thoughts and decides on one of the shirts.
It’s no use, no matter what he wears he can’t hide that he’s big and burly and he prays that you won’t be put off (you seemed fine at the shop but how will you feel in another setting?).
He’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything in his power to make the date enjoyable for you.
His phone vibrates and he looks at a text from Johnny in the 'Tea is for the weak' group chat (Johnny the little shit made it and refused to change the name).
🧼: Can we meet up today instead of the usual?
Normally Simon would immediately be on board and feel horrible if he missed their weekly night out, but this time a smirk plays on his lips when he answeres:
💀: No can do, got a date
He sets his phone aside and a second later the chat blows up.
🧼: DATE?
🧼: GHOST?
🧼: DETAILS???
Captain Price: Gonna need a debrief, Son
Gazelle: Tell me it’s the cutie you keep raving on about
🧼: No way
💀: Coffee date with the cutie
🧼: ABOUT DAMN TIME LT
🧼: Thought you’d lost your balls along with your uniform
💀: don’t project, Johnny boy
🧼: Uncalled for!
🧼: Just checked, still got both
💀: Yet I'm the one with the date
Gazelle: How about we make it at 2200 so you can come too?
Captain Price: Sound good, want the details
🧼: HELL YEAH
💀: you’re insufferable
Captain Price: You better show
💀: Affirmative, Sir
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roosterr · 2 days
Text
firewatch | day 04
series materlist
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john price x gn!reader wc; 4.6k summary; maybe you shouldn't complain about having nothing to do, or some idiot tourists will change that
haha yeah it's been three months, whoopsie. started hating writing for a while there, but i'm better now lol. pls enjoy, this series is a labour of love 💕
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you severely underestimated how fucking tedious this would be.
honestly, you thought you could handle it. all you have to do is look out the window, take note of the weather every now and then, fuck around for the rest of the day, then rinse and repeat for a few months – and you're getting paid, to top it all off.
sounds easy enough.
you look outside, no smoke. you check the weather, it's sunny. two hours later, no smoke and not a cloud in the sky. six hours later, still no smoke, and, would you believe it, it's still clear blue skies and suddenly three days have gone by and somehow you're going stir crazy in the middle of a beautiful state park where most people would go to cure their cabin fever.
it's one thing to be left completely alone with your thoughts for months and months on end, but when you're so adamant about avoiding said thoughts, it turns out there really isn't much else to do.
john was right then, you suppose. people only ever take this job if there's something wrong with them.
well, you weren't completely alone. you take a sip of your tea, lukewarm by now, and turn your eyes to the radio next to you. john isn't bad company, truthfully he's probably the only reason you haven't gone completely insane yet. it makes you wonder how he possibly does this every year, with no other–
"fuckin' hell, is that fireworks?"
john's sudden exclamation startles you mid-sip of your tea, a fit of coughs wracking your body when you accidentally inhale some. you're about to scold him for scaring the shit out of you, but his voice comes through the radio again before you can start.
"out your west window, have a look." he grumbles, low and irritated.
you twist your neck to look, wiping the remnants of your tea from your face with one hand as the other puts the mug down on your desk. your eyes narrow at the sight of the colourful sparks and smoke in the air. "shit, i see them. that's super illegal, right?"
"illegal, and just flat out stupid." john replies, the frustration in his voice rumbling even deeper than usual. "you're gonna need to get down there and stop 'em."
"is…" you blink as another firework explodes above the treeline, "...is that really my job?"
you hear him huff on the other end. "your job is whatever i say it is, rookie. no rangers nearby to call, it's just you'n me out 'ere."
"great." you mumble dryly, casting a mournful glance at the half empty mug of tea sitting on your desk. "so, what do i do? kick their asses?"
"if ya like," john replies in a chuckle, "just make sure they won't come back, and confiscate the fireworks."
"aye aye, captain." you raise your hand in a mock salute entirely for your own amusement, and though he doesn't respond, you hear the click of his radio and an intake of breath as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. you shake off his odd reaction and turn away to look over your fire finder at the various trails and paths. "so… how do i get down to the lake?"
"the trail north of your tower should take you." he says, prompting you to pull out your own map and quickly make a note of the trail he mentioned. it looked straightforward enough, a slightly meandering path through the forest leading to the clearing around the lake. "there's a shale slide along the way, so grab some rope. should be in one of your boxes."
your gaze finds said boxes exactly where you'd left them on the floor beside your desk, partially unpacked but still mostly untouched. you sigh and get on your knees, cursing your previous laziness as you rummage through them one by one. it's a mess of random supplies; a few boxes of matches, a candle or three, an old lamp that looks like something a coal miner would use, even a few rat traps that you keep a mental note of for future reference.
"got it." you announce, only a minute or two of searching later, standing again as you hook one of the clips onto your belt loop and let the rope coil hang there. "so you know this park pretty well, huh?"
john hums in agreement, and in the background you hear something that sounds like the door opening and closing, and then the buzz of the wind under his words. "this area, yeah. been doin' this quite a few years now. plus, i'm the one who drops off supplies at your tower."
"oh, so that's your handwriting on the boxes?" you grin, looking back at the boxes that still lay strewn across your floor as you grab your light bag and head out of your own tower. "maybe you should work on that. shit's barely legible."
"i'll make a note." he chuckles, and the conversation between you paired with the lovely scenery as you descend the stairs almost lets you forget about the reason you're going out in the first place.
unfortunately, your reprieve is interrupted by the echo of another firework in the distance, louder now that you're outside. the colourful sparks are still half visible over the treetops against the late afternoon sky, and you frown at the display.
you find the trail to the lake fairly easily, and cast a glance over at john's tower before it's blocked by the trees, just as yet another bang scares the birds.
you scoff as you watch them fly away, narrowing your eyes at the faint traces of smoke still visible in the sky. "can you hear those from over there?"
"just about." john answers, an amused kind of suspicion is his voice. "why?"
"oh, no reason. but if you happen to hear any screaming, do me a favour and ignore it." you try to disguise the grin in your voice, but you can't help the laugh that slips out when your heart john's rumbling chuckle through the radio.
"i'll tell the police it must've been the foxes."
another airy laugh escapes you at his words. john does seem to have a way of improving your mood, even when it had been decidedly soured by the morons threatening to set the forest alight. and, honestly, it’s difficult to stay annoyed when you’re surrounded by shafts of golden afternoon sun breaking through the canopy of leaves, and the soft rustling of the breeze through the branches. 
the forest feels almost dream-like in this light.
you’d mostly stuck to the southern trails on the handful of walks you’ve taken over the last couple days, taking to avoiding the lake since john told you it was somewhat of a tourist hotspot. it’ll be nice to see a new area of the park, you think, even if you’re only going there to yell at some people.
a twig snaps ahead, just off the path in the underbrush to your right, and you pause.
a dear trots into the patch of sunlight that falls through the trees to the centre of the worn trail, and it pauses too. you stare at it, and it’s deep black eye stares right back. it’s beautiful, you can just about think to yourself, your awe keeping you frozen in place.
and then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it’s gone.
"woah." you murmur, still gazing at where it disappeared into the trees. a smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you click the button on your radio again. "a huge deer just crossed the path in front of me."
a moment passes before john answers, a hint of a teasing laugh on his breath. "they do live out here, love."
you click your tongue, rolling your eyes to yourself as you step over a branch to begin walking again. "alright smartass, some of us don't spend ninety percent of our lives in the middle of the woods."
"i'd say it's more like sixty." he chuckles in response, wiping the faux annoyance from your face with ease. "what did it's antlers look like?"
you quirk an eyebrow and cast a look back over your shoulder at the trees where the deer had gone, but the point of his question still flies over your head. "uh, normal?"
another rumbling chuckle comes through the static before john adds, "which way did they point?"
"oh…" you hum, sidestepping a leafy shrub growing over the path as you think. "to the sides? like, outwards, I guess?"
"probably an elk then, not a deer."
you smile, somewhat impressed, but you're not exactly surprised. for whatever reason, john does seem like the type to know that kind of thing. "that's actually pretty cool. how’d you know that?"
"the informative poster provided by the park, which i understand is in both of our towers." he replies, a sense of smug amusement lifting his voice, which earns another eye roll from you that he'll never see.
"right, right. i definitely read that…" you mutter, which earns you a lighthearted scoff from john.
"did you at least read the one about the poisonous plants ‘round here?" he adds, and you grimace stepping over a ditch in the trail because, well, you know you should've, but there's only your own laziness to blame for ignoring it.
you clear your throat, stifling your grin as you answer in a decidedly unconvincing tone, "...yes–"
"christ alive…"
"–but, just to be safe, i'm not gonna touch any plants, so i don't have to worry." you continue – and as if on cue, a tall nettle waves in the breeze into your path, and you're only narrowly able to dodge it before it can brush your skin. you tut at the plant, like it can understand you, and it almost feels as if the park itself wanted to prove you wrong.
you'll keep that close call to yourself, you decide. what john doesn't know can't hurt him, right?
"i'm gettin' grey hairs talkin' to you." john mutters, and you can so clearly picture the disappointed shake of his head that no doubt accompanied his reply.
"you don't already have grey hairs?" you tease, unable to stop the laugh that comes through your words.
"oi, i'm not that old!"
"i know, i know," you chuckle, "but you do sound like a guy who's smoked a pack a day for twenty years."
"more of a cigar man, myself." he pauses, and you can hear the wind pick up in the background when he doesn't take his finger off the button. "not a habit you can keep up out here though, unfortunately."
"you could if you wanted, then we'd both have a fire to watch." you reply, your smile easy now, like you're talking to an old friend rather than someone you met three days ago.
"you're full of good ideas, aren't ya?"
the conversation dies down again after that, a comfortable atmosphere replacing it. the sun has gotten slightly lower in the sky since you'd started walking, and while it wasn't getting dark yet, it would be soon. wandering around the forest at night was possibly the last thing you wanted to be doing, so you'd better hurry this up.
thankfully you're not walking for much longer before you come to a break in the trees. the trodden path you'd been following gives way to the rocky ground, and just ahead you can see the sudden drop off that you assume must be what you're looking for.
you come to a stop at the edge, and gaze down at the steep descent in front of you.
"hey, i found the slope." you announce, clicking the talk-lock button on your radio so your hands are free to start unfurling the rope. your eyes drift to the slope despite how hard you try to keep them on what your hands are doing, and a spark of anxiety shoots through you as you look over it. "am i really going down this?"
"unless you wanna take the long way."
"i don't… but that's gotta be, like, a fifteen foot drop." you grimace at the sharp stones making up the ground below, your hands twirling the rope nervously between them. suddenly you weren't feeling so confident about this.
"that steep?" he sounds surprised when he asks, maybe even slightly concerned. "s'been a while since i've gone that way, must've had a landslide at some point…"
you seriously would've preferred he kept that thought to himself, because now there's an undeniable feeling, right at the forefront of your mind, that this was not going to end well for you.
"landslide. right." you murmur flatly. "that doesn't fill me with optimism."
if john's at all worried about this like you are, he does a fantastic job of hiding it. his voice is unshakably confident when he responds, "you'll be fine, just make sure your clips are tightened."
you sigh, hesitant to continue, but proceed to tie one end of the rope and loop it into the clip on the anchor point just before the drop off – a sturdy looking rock that you sincerely hope isn't going anywhere – and internally you debate over just cutting your losses and turning back, but considering how high the fire risk is right now, there's no way your conscience will let you delay getting to the lake.
you sigh, giving the rope an experimental tug to make sure it really is secure, which it does appear to be, before throwing the rest of it down the slope.
you really don't want to do this, but unfortunately, you really have to.
"alright, i'm going down. if i die it's your fault." you grumble, hearing a muffled chuckle from john as you take the rope firmly in both hands and tread backwards over the edge of the slope.
you only get two steps from the top before you hear the rope creak. the sound brings the taste of bile to the back of your throat, but you do your best to swallow it down. it's probably an old rope, a weird noise doesn't mean anything – it's the same as the noises your tower makes, right? old things creak, that's just what they do. no need to panic.
it's not like you have much of a choice. you're already suspended by it, and there's no turning back now. your palms start to sweat.
"don't do that." you scold the twine under your breath, willing the inanimate object to hear you. "don't make weird noises."
one more step and the rope creaks again, much louder this time and significantly more worrying. it sends a cold bolt of panic up your spine that you don't get to react to before you hear the unmistakable sound of fibres snapping. "wait– no no no no–!"
you vaguely hear john call your name, but it's muffled by your cut off shout as the rope snaps in half and sends you free-falling down the slope.
time seems to slow as you watch the rest of your rope get further away, your wide eyes meeting the vast blue of the sky above with only one thought on your mind.
this is gonna hurt.
a heavy thud reverberates through your skull when you hit the ground. hard. the impact knocks the air from your lungs and forces a strained whine from your lips. jagged stones dig into your skin through your clothes, only adding to the pain already radiating from your upper back.
john calls your name again, his voice a little more frantic this time, you note through the pain fogging your mind. "sitrep– uh, talk to me, what's happened?"
"ugh, shit…" another groan leaves your chest as you push yourself up onto your elbows, attempting to blink away the dark spots that float in your vision. "my fucking rope snapped. fell down the slope…"
"shit." he hisses. "you broken?"
"what? no," you mutter through a deep intake of breath, finally gathering the strength to sit up fully with a hand attempting to soothe the ache between your shoulders, but it doesn't do much to help. "my back just really fuckin' hurts…"
"right…" he murmurs, letting the silence hang between you for a moment too long before continuing. "the rope snapped?"
"yeah… made some fucked up noises and then broke clean in two." you send a withering glare to the other end of your rope, still hanging tauntingly from the top of the slope with a distinct air of mockery you didn't know an inanimate object could be capable of giving off.
standing requires a lot more energy than you currently have in you, but the distant sound of a firework reminds you again why you're even out here – so with a laboured grunt, you push yourself upright through the sharp ache in your back and brace yourself on your knees as your vision spins.
you hear john sigh absently over the wind on his end. "i'm sorry, this is my fault. i should'a checked the supplies 'fore i dropped 'em off at ya tower, i would'a noticed–"
"john, hey, it's fine, okay?" you interrupt his rambling before he can get too far into his own head, and frown to yourself. "but i'm not getting back to my tower that way…"
"there's– there's another path back, from the lake." his voice is quieter than usual, and he stumbles over his words – something so incredibly unlike him, it has you on edge from such a small change.
you hum, looking back up at the other end of your rope with a disdainful sigh as you brush the rest of the gravel from your pants. "as long as there's no more abseiling, i think that'll work."
john doesn't say anything more, which has you concerned, but you decide not to push it. he's clearly cut up about what happened, even if you don't completely get why, and you get the impression that moving on from the subject would be best for both of you.
the way the small valley is shaped leads you easily to the continuation of the trail, and before long the rocky ground gives way again to softer forest floor. you find yourself in another larger clearing, open enough that you can see ahead where the path disappears between more rocks and overgrown shrubbery. the lake must be nearby now, you think, because the distant sound of voices reaches your ears periodically on the wind.
the radio silence from john lingers in the air, heavy and stifling despite the great distance between you. the solitude leaves you with your thoughts, wondering why he was acting so responsible for something so beyond both of your control, and though you've resolved to leave the topic alone, you really can't seem to stop thinking about it.
another bang of a firework echoes around the clearing and you regret complaining about the tedium of the last few days. this was not what you wanted.
you drag your aching body across the rest of the clearing and brush a low-hanging branch out of your way as you make your way through the overgrowth between you and the lake. a clunking sound catches your attention, and you turn your gaze downwards to an empty beer can, followed by another further down path, then a few more, and a few more.
"holy shit, what is wrong with these people…" you mutter through gritted teeth, crouching down to gather as many as you can into your bag as you go – with only a short grumble at the pain it causes your back.
with a deeply exasperated sigh, you sling your bag back over your shoulder just as you come to the end of the trail and the bushes give way to the clearing of the lake. there's a small, raised island in the centre, where you can see the group lounging by the water with their music turned all the way up.
god, could these people get any more obnoxious?
you take a second to steel yourself, because this was not going to be easy, before cupping your hands around your mouth and shouting, "hey!"
they ignore you. of course they do.
"hey!" you yell louder this time, and thankfully they acknowledge you by finally turning off their music and glaring at you from their perch. you're probably supposed to handle situations like this with decorum, but as a result of the last hour or so your patience has worn incredibly thin, and you really can't find it in you to care. "fireworks? really? are you guys completely fucking stupid?"
they scoff and look incredulously between each other, before who you assume to be the ringleader yells back, "what the hell is your problem?"
"yeah, it's a free country!" one of the others adds.
"that's not how that works…" you sigh to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose and willing yourself to keep at least some modicum of composure. "you kids better get the fuck outta here! right now!"
they scoff again, and pointedly turn away from you. good god, the urge to throw rocks at them was getting harder and harder to fight.
"ignore them, it's just some random fucking loser creeping on teenagers…" the ringleaders comment is only just audible from where you're standing, but you do hear it, and it only serves to fuel your temper.
"what? no, i'm–" you falter for a split second, debating the consequences of the lie you're about to tell, but the side of you that just wants these idiots out of your life wins over fairly easily. "i'm a park ranger! and if you don't leave now, i can guarantee the cops are gonna be waiting for you when you do!"
a beat of silences passes, before they begin to mutter amongst themselves.
"oh shit… are they for real?"
"i don't care dude, i can't get arrested again, my parents would kill me!"
"let's just get outta here, this is freaking me out…"
you fold your arms tightly over your chest and watch them scuttle to gather their things with a scowl. they collectively send you one last withering look, which you readily mirror, before they wade back into the lake and swim across to the bank on your left.
"fucking finally…" your gaze follows them until they weave between the trees and you can no longer see them. with a tired sigh, you bring up your radio and move to check where they disappeared to as you update john. "hey, they're gone."
there's a moment before john replies, sounding not quite as downtrodden as he was earlier, which you take as a good sign. "yeah? how'd it go?"
"i hope they drown." you grumble in response.
he laughs, genuine and deep, and you feel your lingering annoyance melting away with the sound. "let's hope they won't come back."
"are you…" you clear your throat, weaving your way between trees and bushes. "are you okay? about earlier, i mean?"
"yeah, i'm– i'm fine." john answers quickly, and you get the strong feeling that he's deflecting when he continues, "let's just get you back to your tower, eh?".
"and far away from these fucking tourists…" you mutter, which earns you another light chuckle from him. just the memory of them has you cringing as you brush through a few bushes. "completely unrelated question, but would i get in trouble if i, hypothetically, lied about being a park ranger?"
"hypothetically, i reckon we could keep that between me and you."
a small grin finds its way onto your face, just as you reach where you assume those kids had been camping. there's more empty cans scattered by the worn dirt track, which you gather up with a string of curses under your breath.
following the trail of litter as you round the trees, the first thing that meets your eyes is the remains of their campfire, still smouldering and glowing orange in the evening shadows.
"idiots lit a campfire, too." you seethe, sharply kicking dirt over the embers until you're sure it's out. "the fire risk is colour-coded for assholes like them, and somehow it still went over their heads…"
john sighs. "don't think too much about it. knobheads like that wouldn't get it if it smacked 'em in the face."
"who knows? maybe one of these days i will." you're only half joking, but the smile must come across in your voice because john's rumbling chuckle follows again.
"right, and when they ask 'how on earth d'you get fired from a job where all you do is sit on your arse all day', what're you gonna tell 'em?"
"that i beat up some dumb kids and saved the park from being burnt to a crisp?" you grin, starting in the direction you vaguely remember another trail ending, but a glint of light catches your attention from the corner of your eye.
you crouch down, and forgotten behind the bush is a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey. nice.
you slip it into your bag and call it the service charge.
"i think the coppers'll be more concerned with the first bit." john quips. you laugh through the twinge of pain as you stand again, and hope he doesn't notice.
"that's their problem. i'll be the people's hero." you say, earning a other deep chuckle that grows a light feeling in your chest. you get a few more strides up the path before coming across a trail sign with a spoke for fire lookout seven, and tell john, "hey, i found the sign for my tower, so i'm heading that way."
"good. that way's a bit more of a hike, but it's shorter, so you should be home in time for dinner." 
"perfect. can't wait to get back to my room temperature tea." you reply, with a trace of sarcasm that you're sure is only just noticeable.
john breathes a short chuckle, before his voice turns slightly more serious. "how's your back, anyway?"
"fucking hurts, but i'll get over it." you answer, and the moment silence that follows has you wishing you'd just said fine. it had slipped your mind how odd john was being about your fall, and though you want to find out why, you get the impression that questioning him about it wouldn't get you anywhere.
he clears his throat uncomfortably. "...sorry, again. it was my fault you fell."
you frown in concern when he apologises, again, and do your best to ease his mind. "don't worry about it, alright? i didn't even fall that far, i was already, like, halfway down."
he doesn't have to know that was a lie.
"still, it shouldn't've happened in the first place." he replies, still sounding rather pitiful despite your efforts.
"i'm being dramatic. it's really fine, john." you try to keep your words light, to convey that you really don't blame him, and he shouldn't either, but he simply hums in response.
"if you say so."
"well, y'know how you can make it up to me?" you let another smile creep into your voice when another idea comes to you.
"how's that?" he takes the bait, some form of amusement present rather than the cynicism from before.
"you can tell me some of your war stories," you can sense his hesitation through the radio, but you press further with a more lighthearted tone, "the cool shit, like how mission impossible is based on your life or whatever."
"well, i'm no tom cruise, but i was at the piccadilly bombin', back in twenty-nineteen." john replies, a hint of smugness behind his words that you don't even register through the shock that stops you in your tracks.
"holy shit, what?"
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maddascanbe-blog · 6 months
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Well hello there... Alright, I'll admit it. She's my favorite, in cannon and for the redesigns. Love Nathalie, ever since Bubbler. My friend thought I would change my mind later? Nope, it has always and will always be her.
Keeping with the monstrous theme for the miraculous villains meant keeping the blue skin tone. It probably looks like scales but if you look closer the stuff around her eyes and going up to her hair is actually meant to be small feathers.
Civilian Nathalie sticks pretty close to her cannon design but with a grey undershirt instead of red to make the streak in her hair the only pop of color. Fun fact, in cannon when Nathalie gets sick only the streak in her hair turns gray, meaning her natural hair color is bright red and the black is the dye job. I like to believe the same is true here so I warmed up her hair instead of the cool tones I used for Marinette (and Kagami later)
Catalyst and The Collector have the same color pallet and very blatantly go together, like hell I was gonna change that. Instead she just looks more refined as opposed to Gabriel's wild hair.
As for the rewrite, Nathalie is still in love with Gabriel. Honestly honey, you can do better. But her primary motivation is actually to help Adrien. She's raised him just as much, if not more, than his actual parents. And she sees how much it hurts him to see Gabriel pull away even more, and with Emelie just gone. And she is under the impression that Gabriel has the same motivation. Not realizing until its too late that his intentions are far more selfish than hers.
Actually because of that her transformation is less monstrous than Gabe's. While his entire head splits open, hers are superficial. Still painful, but the magic recognizes her potential for change and doesn't force her to suffer the way it does Gabriel. But unfortunately, the peacock miraculous is still damaged. And Nathalie is paying the price for her hopes.
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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month
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i desperately need a tf141 beach day episode.
What comes next? A firework episode? A sick episode? The manly males of the masculine franchise Call of Duty becoming members of a 2006 Shojo Anime?
You got it.
CW// Bad attempts at humor, don’t take anything serious, the big boys deserve a break and so do you. Drink water, stay hydrated, eat your favorite snack and pat your pets like I do all the time. Plus, whatever happened in Canon universe, stays in Canon Universe, this is a happy family.
And I hope this was what you meant, just plain old TF141. Not TF141 + Reader. Now I’m having a crisis, not wanting to disappoint :(
Wordcount: 905 Words
A Day at the Beach means a Day away from Base
“That’s it, boys. You need a break.”
If anything Kate was as thick headed and stubborn as a mule, there wasn’t much that could move her from a position she took.
“No, Kate. What we need is finding Makarov and hanging this fucker from the ceiling. He almost killed Soap. I’m not letting this maniac walk around…” Price started, hands still firmly planted on the table where various files about Makarov and his associates were scattered around, before getting cut off by a sharp glance coming from Kate.
Sometimes he wanted to strangle the woman with bare hands.
“It’s a bit like Mom and Dad fighting.” Gaz whispered between Soap and Ghost. “Just missing the bloody popcorn.” He got elbowed by Ghost for that, Gaz knew he deserved it.
“Vacation. Now. MacTavish almost, almost died. This should be enough to give you a reason to start with fresh eyes, which you can’t if you’re as tense as you bunch are right now. Just a few days. A week at max, I’ll keep the operation going, we’ve got enough eyes and ears on the ground and the air… we’ll find Makarov but not if you can’t see the woods for the trees.“
A week later Price sat by the back porch of a small bungalow at the beachside of the Netherlands. It wasn’t like this American movie beaches but damn, it was nice to stretch out his legs, sip his, to be honest very sucky, tea and listen to the annoying screams of the seagulls over their heads.
“Kate was…” Ghost started but got cut off by Prices’ hand in his face.
“Don’t say it.”
“Kate was right.” Ghost snorted and stepped onto the fresh grass, it had rained the night prior and Ghost was barefoot.
A moment later Soap and Gaz sprint out of the bungalow, both dressed in swim shorts, Soap with a water gun in his hands and Gaz carrying a big floaty, both of them looking proud as peacocks. “You two stay where you are. I won’t let any of you madmen out of my sight after last time.” Price reminded them, making them stop in their tracks.
An hour they still sit by the bungalow, this time huddled under the tarp as heavy rain fell down, again. “We could have been swimming in the damn ocean for at least an hour by now!” Soap complained while gripping his mug of coffee. Not even a moment later there is lightning cutting through the sky.
“You would be grilled if you got hit by lightning while swimming in the ocean, Johnny.” Ghost reminded him while watching the rain fall.
For the next three days it was a constant battle between simple rain and heavy storms outside the bungalow.
“Wasn’t this vacation supposed to relax us?” Gaz asked from his spot on the couch, some stupid cartoon running as a background noise. “I am everything but relaxed!”
They had been scooped up for most of the vacation now. It wasn’t any different to when they were out of deployment, just that here they aren’t in the danger of getting shot at. One plus point.
“Blame Laswell.” Price called from the bathroom. “If she hadn’t make us go on a damn vacation we could be back at home, hunting down Makarov and…”
“Sun’s out, clouds are gone. Move your damn asses mates, we gonna drown in the open sea.” Ghost called and pushed the sliding doors open. Within seconds they all had changed.
This was probably the last chance they got to actually relax at the sea, and even if the window for that kind of good weather was a small one, they would use even the smallest chance.
So an hour later Ghost lays on a towel, Price sitting next to him, nursing a bottle of Heineken while keeping an eye on Gaz and Soap who have a water fight with a group of other tourists. And they were pathetically losing right now.
“Sometimes I wonder how they grew up and why they are still alive?” Price snorted between two sips of beer.
“Not everyone can be grumpy assholes like us two when they grow up.” Ghost joked and propped himself up on his elbows, watching Soap getting dunked by Gaz, who in return gets hit with a shot from a water gun.
They clank their bottles against each other while watching Soap and Gaz race through the water, diving under water for a moment or two until the sun started to settle slowly at the horizon and the two Sergeant crawled out of the water and hiding under their towels at the spot on the beach.
“It’s fucking peaceful.” Gaz said after a moment of drying himself and removing algae from his hair, throwing it away and leaned back on his hands.
The sky turned orange, pink and yellow as the sun set, slowly disappearing behind the line of water.
“That’s what Kate had been talking about when she threw us onto this vacation.” Price said as he handed out fresh bottles of beer.
This night they returned real late to their bungalow, enjoying the cloud free sky full of stars over their heads.
A few weeks later a single picture frame decorated Prices office, showing Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz, all grinning into the cheap camera they had brought for their vacation. A bunch of great memories were made in those few days.
Please don’t hesitate to send in more requests <:
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charliemwrites · 7 months
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more feral biting price please? bonus points if she gets so scared she cries and instantly regrets it. price just having to take a deep breath in and calm the hysterical feral down? i feel like theres a big difference between price the first time they met and later on, he's way more pushy and condescending at first. I kinda like him mean and condescending?
you're probs sick of receiving requests for these two so feel free to ignore.
I’m not sick of it lol, they have a super interesting dynamic that changes depending on the scenarios and storyline.
I think the worst time would be when she bites down for real. Not just a warning nip like the first time he babysits, but a fully-committed chomp of fear or anger. Maybe because he’s been grooming her and she finally reaches her limit in contact or he does something she doesn’t like. She’s been giving him a warning noises and snapping without making actual contact but he’s been just laughing it away, challenging “you’re not gonna bite little thing”. Until she does. And yeah, it hurts, it’s gonna bruise, he probably even curses because ow.
And that would be what makes her realize “oh shit I bit Price.”
She lets go and scrambles away before he can say a word, hunkering down in a tight ball in the corner. Price would shake out his hand, check the damage. Not as bad as he expected, even if it’s already discolored.
He’d wipe off the spit and gently speak from across the room. That it’s alright, she just got spooked and he should have known better. That he’s not mad, really. When she starts to uncurl, he’d start easing closer, extend the same hand she just bit as a peace offering.
And she’s a little teary, still feels a bit like biting. But he’s sitting still and patient, not getting closer even with his arm out. And finally she crawls closer to inspect the bite mark before placing her little hand on it in apology.
“No more touching.”
He snorts. “Yeah, I figured.”
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gabessquishytum · 3 months
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Thinking about warprize cat!dream having king cow!Hob's bigheaded baby.
Cats do tend to hide when it's their time is it not? So I imagined Dream slinking (waddling) through the corridors when he feels the first twinge, and suddenly he feels like he has to press close to the wall. Everything is just so vast and open, TOO vast and open, and it makes him extremely uncomfortable. Cow architecture is made to fit many people at once because they're extremely sociable, high ceilings, big rooms, big windows, big everything. Dream feels slightly nauseous, even if it didn't bother him before.
So he hurries through the castle, searching for something, not quite knowing himself for what exactly, when he gets closer to the servants areas and happens upon the first (huge, built-in) linen closet.
In the blink of an eye, Dream is inside and curled up. It's narrow, dark, soft, and smells good, and the best thing is that nobody's around.
This changes of course when, a few hours later, the contractions get worse and he can't keep quiet anymore. Also the whole castle is searching for him because he just kinda vanished.
The first poor servant who tries to open the closet gets their face full of claws. The light hurts Dream's eyes (and he's hurting enough already, thank you) and also he needs to be safe.
Through the haze and his own pained sounds Dream can hear more people arrive and then leave again, and then there's a soft, soothing voice, reassuring him that nobody's gonna disturb him, that that is gonna be okay.
It's Hob. Hob sits himself in front of the closet and keeps watch, and talks the whole time to keep Dream grounded (and has a hard time not opening the doors himself with all the sounds coming out).
He's rewarded when, after a particularly nasty hour of screaming, he's tugged into the closet by a weak paw, the doors shutting behind him.
His eyes have a hard time adjusting to the dark and the air is thick with the smell of amniotic fluid and sweat and blood, and then something squirming and slimy and warm is pressed into his arms. Hob's entire existence screeches to a halt the first time their child drinks from him.
He's kinda lost to the world, cradling them in one arm, Dream in the other, half asleep and drinking from his other teat.
That's probably why, when someone tentatively tries to open the closet again, he decidedly shoves it closed again with his foot.
(The linens are kinda ruined, tho. But that's a price Hob is absolutely willing to pay.)
(🦒 anon was kind enough to let me know that this one came from them!)
I absolutely adore this idea. And God do I feel bad for Dream. However many months of carrying Hob’s huge baby have truly done a number on him already, and he's so ready to not be pregnant!!!! He'd dearly love to be back in the cat kingdom now. They tend to set up special nooks and crannies like catperson sized cardboard boxes for their pregnant individuals to retreat to when the time comes. Cat midwifes are also very "hands off" - nobody interferes unless there's a serious problem. To be honest, Dream wouldn't mind a helping hand just to haul the baby out by it's adorable little horns. But he knows that it's best to let nature take its course.
The labour is worth it in the end, because the baby is perfect. Dream even finds himself thinking that another one wouldn't be so bad. The sight of their little one suckling enthusiastically from Hob is truly one that Dream will never forget (and he is very grateful that his husband is a portable source of milk, because he really needs it right now).
Hob finally emerges from the closet hours later with the baby latched on firmly to his teat, and a very exhausted Dream wrapped around him like a deflated serpent. At this point he's thinking that they'll just remodel the closet into a birthing suite... because the way Dream keeps looking at their newborn so adoringly, he gets the feeling that it won't be the last time it's needed!
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onekindredspirit · 7 months
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This photo is the last remaining evidence that I once stood before the mystic portal of the O.K. Corral. Everything else except memory has been taken with time, and so I deposit this remnant here in salt and light and code. The O.K. Corral was a crumbling, condemned 5 bedroom Victorian villa that featured in my life when I was young. I rented it with a friend for, initially, $40 per week. That price was later negotiated down to 'rent free'. Mr. Fox, our landlord, was seen only once more, and on that occasion he tried to sell the place to us for $10,000. The current market value is around $1.5 million ... but money isn't everything. The O.K. Corral was a 'Dude Ranch' and the definition of that is "... an all-inclusive immersive vacation that includes lodgings, meals, horseback riding, fishing and hiking and more." Okay, there was no horseback riding, fishing or hiking but there were other things going on ... and more. Interestingly, the word 'dude' has changed meaning over the last 140 years. Today 'dude' means something like 'bro' but back in the 1880's, when 'Dude Ranches' first began, it was slang for an urbanite. As I write, things continue to fall into place.
I had known my friend since I was 6 years old. I don't think I liked him much back then. He was an extrovert and pushy when getting the painting resources at school. I didn't sit with him anyway because I was a 'foreigner' and I had to sit next to the only other foreigner in the class, Elizabeth Federinko, a Ukrainian girl who couldn't speak English and drew horses all day. I think it was the horse drawing that eventually drove me crazy or maybe it was something else ... possibly bad blood. Anyway, I'll call my friend 'Bukowski'. By the time we were 20 years old I quite liked the guy. Sure there were other arenas of male competition but I found myself better equipped to deal with those. The cool thing about pushy people is that they make thing happen and 'Bukowski' was no exception. For example, he could cook. We had a litany of weirdos and 'freaks' pass through the O.K. Corral. A note to the sensitive - to be called a freak back then was the highest form of compliment in our subculture. It was all a little crazy and you would be disappointed in me if I told you about life at the O.K. Corral, so I won't. Let's talk about something else. One day 'Bukowski' decided to move to another region of New Zealand, some place warmer that would better suit a boho gentleman with alcohol thinned blood. I have rarely lived alone but for a week I did until one morning I was woken at 1am by someone sitting on the end of my bed and talking to me. I wasn't clear as to what she was saying but I wasn't at all concerned as this was probably 'normal' when you don't lock your doors. Realising I was now awake she turned on the light.
I didn't know her but I knew who she was. I'd seen her riding around the city on a Norton Commando motorcycle which had impressed me because of her small size and once she had smiled at me as we passed each other on a city street. I remember that smile, it was powerful enough to stop and turn me around. It was a beautiful smile. The following morning she returned with her possessions and we shared my bed. I feel I had been looking for this person most of my life but when you dream someone into your life there's a danger that the results may be "... reductive and diminutive and I think basically misogynistic ..." as the writer Zoe Kazan once said in an interview when discussing the 'Manic Pixie Dream Girl' trope. Clementine, in the movie 'The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' warns Joel - "Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours". One thing though, I was never quite sure if she was my projection or if I was, in fact, the projection of her own desires. But I'm comfortable with that. We lived together. She taught me a lot. I gave her love in return. 'Clementine' eventually moved to Australia, a place better suited to her large personality. Years later I was sitting having an espresso at Fidel's Cafe on Cuba Street when 'Clementine' walked past the large plate-glass window. I had only a glimpse of her face but from that brief moment I sensed that she was not happy and that her health was not good. I didn't get up and rush out to catch up with her. I didn't run after her seeking some meaningful reunion. I let her go ... and watched as she disappeared into the crowd. Sometime in the not too distant past I had discovered that the person I had been looking for all through my youth and into later life was myself. I let 'Clementine' go. But the night I wrote this I dreamed of 'Clementine' and it was a beautiful dream.
- One Kindred Spirit
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