#simon snow for anything really

[samalander01]

The stunning butter cake that @rimeswithpurple made for Simon Day has been stuck in my brain all day... I really think it would make him cry. Here is my artistic rendition.

[mashmouths]

so i started this show and it just gets worse and worseeeee not only did it lift the romance subplot directly from twilight (and not well) but they also are trying to play the forbidden love angle hard in the fantasy racism vein except it's a "cross-species" relationship between the two whitest people i've ever seen in my life and there are three people of color in the whole (first season of the) show who aren't villains and it seems that every other episode (and sometimes ebery episode and sometimes twice an episode!) there is a man physically or magically subjugating a woman and i keep waiting for the big reveal at the end to be stolen from fucking rainbow rowell

[tyrannuspitch]

some preliminary attempts at snowbaz

[ebbpettier]

He's your nemesis. It was kismet.

[valeffelees]

hey, g'morning ☀️ (he said, even though it's literally quarter-to one in the afternoon.) (LOL.)

thank you kindly @hushed-chorus, @blackberrysummerblog, @artsyunderstudy, and @larkral for tagging me today, i'm really (!!!) excited to see what y'all've been working on. 🤸‍♂️

i think editing is going well for Without Sun, but okay, fun fact: i pre-draft all my fanfics out like a stage play before writing them, right. and so as i was going through my fic yesterday i found a scene right in the middle that's still just, like 300 words of raw script? i don't write chronologically, so i guess i skipped over it and then just forgot about it? lmao, RIP 🪦

so n e way, i thought i'd share a few short Penny and Simon moments today, 'cause their friendship is very important to me.

(1/4)

He looks up at Penelope, standing there with [Simon's] bag hanging over her shoulder. “Ignore him,” she says. He doesn’t know how. Baz lives under Simon’s skin, and he’s been there for so long that Simon doesn’t know how to draw him back out anymore, wouldn’t even know where to start. But he takes Penelope’s hand. And she doesn’t let go, even once she’s pulled him to his feet. 

(2/4)

[...] Simon looks at Penny. Scratching something into her notes, too absorbed in being ambitious and clever and all swotty and shit to notice the turmoil happening over her head. Her hair is tangled up into a huge, fluffy ponytail and her mouth is moving, she’s talking. And she’s smiling.

(3/4)

Simon heads for Miss Possibelf’s Magic Words classroom instead. Because the only thing he wants right now more than a warm shower and a soft bed, and maybe a hot cup of tea, is Penelope Bunce.

(4/4)

“I need you to wake up,” he tells her now, whispering into a silence he can’t actually break. An analogue clock is ticking on the wall above the door. “I need you to help me, I don’t—what am I supposed to do, Pen? I don’t know how to fix this type of shit on my own.”

i love them very much. 😌

Tag, you're it! 🪄 @cutestkilla @raenestee @thewholelemon @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @facewithoutheart

[adamarks]

@rainbowrowell I’m so sorry but it’s been on my mind for two years now. Please ignore this honestly. But tailjob happened. Is fangjob ever gonna be on the table.

[yelloworangesoda]

i really should get over this hope of christmas being like it used to be. im not 6 anymore, that’s whats the problem. this is so obvious. simon.

[uglygirltrying]

wolf-hybrid!simon x bunny-hybrid!reader | PT2 | pt1 | pt3 |

he did show you. it was so much warmer, than in your burrow.

it was easy to feel safe and warm enough, in his big arms, to eventually fall asleep. even if he was the hunter, your natural predator, you were basking in a warm hole, filled with his musk. your head went mush and fuzzy, eyes fluttering shut.

the wolf grinned and chuckled above you. what a silly bunny. your legs twitched, as you slowly went under. so compliant, no arguing when he took you, and you so easily went limp in his arms.

oh, you were going to be so much fun when the spring comes. maybe you'd be even more submissive, or on the other hand, maybe you'd get snappy. that'd be fun, simon thought.

he can already imagine the little bunny in heat, constantly rubbing against him, begging for a litter. if he feels nice, he might even give you one. simon smirks at the thought. such a sweet thing you are.

simon felt reluctant to leave. what if you ran? well, he would surely find you, after breathing your scent in so much. but still, it would be a lot of trouble, to track you, and catch you again. he didn't want to go through all of that trouble. he didn't want you to run.

simon signed. he had to find food. some meat for himself, and maybe some bark for you. but he knew that you didn't have a strong enough reason to stay. a warm den? you surely could find another one around. a mate? not really, he basically just snatched you up, against your will. maybe if you fought more, he would feel guilty. but this, this felt like a love story. he found you, brought you home, and here you are, sleeping in his den.

he did have time to linger and think. he did hunt best in the dark after all. simon breathed out again. whatever, he thought. you could run. he'd catch you, and bring you back. whatever.

simon sat up, leaving the bunny girl to lay there. he crawled out of the den, and made his way to the surface. the sun is setting, the rays creating shadows of the surrounding birch trees. the snowfall has stopped. it's so quiet and calm. the snow is beautifully set and hard surfaced, glistening in the light.

the wolf stood up, and began his search for food.

you felt disoriented. where were you? this isn't your burrow. your eyes slowly opened, drowsy, and confused. with a croaky groan, it hit you. where you were. why, and how.

you sniffed the air. the smell is so much lighter now. with a confused expression, you looked around the den. you're alone. huh?

why? where is he? is he hiding behind the opening, waiting to spook you and punish you, when you try to leave?

he's gone. it's your chance now. you can go, leave, run back home, to your burrow. the den is colder without his body pressed against you. it's almost as cold as your burrow. oh. it's warmer here. even without him.

it almost feels shameful to even hesitate leaving. you should! but you can't. you can't get yourself to crawl out and run for your life. how would he feel, coming back, into a empty den? a nest. that feels like an bad word. it's not your nest, not even your den. you're just... there.

why can't you leave? it's his fault, of course, he must've done something to you... are you feverish, why won't you run? maybe you're sick... running would only make that worse. and there's a perfectly good bed just under you.

you sighed. how pitiful. you laid back down. how embarrassing. but it felt so good, to just lay. don't you have a backbone? it would feel better if... it would be warmer. maybe even safer. if he was there. but is he even your protector. is this den a trap, why isn't he here?

thinking felt overwhelming. or maybe it was just the topic. but it felt exhausting. you should just not think. just lay there, and hope for his return. pathetic.

simon's hands were full of bark. he already ate his meal. he didn't want to bring anything bloody into the den, it would surely disturb you. if you even were still there.

simon scoffed. it's useless to assume. he doesn't know anything about you. maybe you're waiting behind the opening, a rock in hand, waiting for him to stick his head in, so you can punish him, for taking you.

he sniffed the air. nobody else is around. at least not around the hole in the hill. the snow's surface was untouched, not counting his own footprints. maybe you were still there. hopefully you were asleep. sweet, and compliant. maybe you were awake, desperately waiting for him to come back and keep you warm.

he almost smirked at his own fantasies. how silly. you already have him dreaming. oh, he is hooked, simon chuckled.

with hands full of bark, just for you, simon stood above the entrance of his den. might as well barge in. and so he did. simon crawled into his den. and there you were. still asleep. in his nest. the wolf felt proud. he kept you around. here he was, bringing you food, while you just slept. that's how it's meant to be.

simon dropped the bark in a corner of the den. he almost rushed. he wanted to cuddle up next to you, hold you in his arms, keep you warm, and protect you. at light speed, he had crawled next to you.

even in your sleepy state, he had managed to startle you. you're eyes narrowed open.

"go back to sleep, bun..." he softly murmured to you. with a tired nod of your head, you closed your eyes, and fell back asleep.

it made simon chuckle. you will never have a reason to complain again. you're his now, after all. his.

either this is my magnum opus, or im delusional ;( heart banner by @roseschoices

taglist: @famouscattale @nappingmoon @distinguishedprincesstrash @tame-the-lion-writes @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

[inbarfink]

When talking about the distinction between Simon Petrikov and the Ice King,  it’s important to remember that originally, the Crown wasn’t trying to turn Simon into Ice King -

It was trying to turn him into this guy.

At the time, the Ice Crown - or rather the Wishing Crown - was programmed with Gunther’s wish to become Evergreen. So everything related to making the current wearer like Evergreen is a very direct result of the Crown’s Magic. The physical changes -

And the obsession with the name ‘Gunther’ -

And maybe some of the irritability and anger issues -

That is something the Crown is very directly forcing unto its current wielder. 

But everything else?

Ice King, personality-wise, was not much like Evergreen at all, or even like Gunther's view of him. And Ice Finn of the Farmworld Universe was also pretty different from the both of them.

At the time, I remember people assumed Ice Finn’s behavior is more indicative of what the Crown is actually trying to do with its wielders. That Ice King is so different because of Simon’s subconscious resistance against the Crown - while Finn’s much younger and dumber brain is a lot susceptible to the Curse’s influence to become some sort of mad world-conquering emperor of ice and snow. 

But, with the context of the Crown’s actual backstory. That doesn’t seem very likely anymore. I think what’s actually happening there is that the Crown is just trying to make its wielder an Ice Wizard on par with Evergreen (who was the Actual Goddam Ice Elemental) and that means pumping the wielder’s brain so full of Magic, Madness and Sadness to a level that is bound to overwhelm anyone.

And Simon’s and Farmworld Finn’s very different behaviors after putting on the crown is indicative, more than anything, of how their psyche reacts to Madness and Sadness in general. You know, Finn has a very proactive and kinda aggressive personality - and you add Crown-induced-Madness-and-Sadness and a compulsion to use Ice Magic as much as possible and you get all of…. this 

Meanwhile, for Simon, the compulsions of the Crown originally filtered exclusively via the language of protection 

As his madness always manifested as romantic obsession 

And using goofy humor to try and deny the pain he’s going through 

Because that’s how Simon’s mind specifically reacts to being flooded with so much Madness and Sadness.

That’s why there’s so many parallels between Ice King and the sort of mistakes and screwed-up stuff Simon does right now! He’s even kidnapping people again!

Because the Madness and Sadness of Ice King might’ve been induced by the Crown, but now Simon has plenty of personal home-grown Madness and Sadness inside him - and it’s no surprise that Curse-Induced or not, his mind reacts to it in a sorta-similar way. (Although obviously not as intensely, again, there was a LOT of MMS in the Ice Crown).

Now as for Ice Thing, and the fact that he seems to be actually rather well-adjusted under effects of his version of the Wishing Crown. I mean... not by the time of the 1000+ Era, but that’s literally eons in the future and also maybe more Gibbon’s fault. Even if the Crown will eventually take some sort of toll on him, for now he seems to be doing pretty well considering his wish. I mean, there's still some sort of Loss of Identity stuff going on

But everything we've seen of Ice Thing (in the present day, at least) shows him as a friendly and cheerful individual that gets along well with others. A far cry from how maladjusted every single wielder of the Ice Crown acted.

At the very least, if there's any notable amount of Sadness in him, we really haven't seen it yet.

There might be several factors here:

First things first, I should acknowledge the possibility that it’s just that Orgalorg’s eldritch brain is better at intaking all that MMS juice. That could play a part, but I think it’s probably more important, at least thematically, to look at the distinction between ‘I wish to be Evergreen’ and ‘I wish to be Ice King’. 

First in the sense that while Ice King was occasionally mean to Gunter at times - he was generally much kinder than Evergreen ever was for ‘his’ Gunther. So, like, pretty much the one Personality Flaw of Ice King that you can directly link to the Ice Crown’s attempt to mimic Evergreen is the occasional anger issues.

And how they relate to Gunther’s view of Evergreen, so grumpy and controlling and constantly saying ‘NO!’

(Both Finn and Simon’s demonstrable not-crown-induced trauma responses can make them pretty short-tempered as well. So I’m not going to say this is purely the effects of the Crown. It still probably plays some sort of factor at why the wielder of the Ice Crown is Like That).

And that is not a factor in how Gunter views Ice King. For him, Ice King was a doting and loving father figure - so if the Crown was ever trying to implement any sort of specific negative personality traits, this is absolutely no longer a factor. Because the original Ice Crown was a reflection of Evergreen’s abuse, and now Ice Thing is a reflection of Ice King’s fatherly love.

Which is, itself, probably an echo or remnant of Simon’s own strong parental instincts. 

Secondly, while the Crown was trying to make the Ice King just as powerful as Evergreen…. Ice King was obviously not as powerful as Evergreen. Because he was already a second-rate copy of the Ice Elemental’s power, and because Ice King was often just too doofy to use his powers correctly and probably because some remnant of Simon’s original sensible self is subconsciously holding his powers back.

Either way, being ‘like Ice King’ as Gunter sees him requires less Magic than being ‘like Evergreen’ as Gunther saw him - and therefore less Madness and Sadness. Leading to the wearer or, um, the eater being a lot more well-adjusted from the get-go.

And I think that the implication that Ice Thing has fused with the Crown, so there's never going to be another poor sap who puts on the Crown and gets Ice King'd. But if there is one somehow... at least the process is going to be less mentally detrimental that time around?

Maybe one day Simon could look back and appreciate how much he (or Ice King, or both of them, or however you want to look at the situation) is responsible for basically neutralizing the Crown that ruined his life in the first place.

[eleu22]

What Task Force 141’s Houses Would Look Like

John Price

- he lives in a cabin I cannot be convinced otherwise.

- very rustic, defo goes fishing or hunting for fun in his spare time

- likes to be away from the city

- its maximalist in kind of an organised chaos way he can find whatever he need’s immediately but to anyone else it looks kind of insane

- he’d be cleaner if he lived with someone - but yaknow #singledad

- very homey, warm vibes

- if the apocalypse ever hit you’d wanna be here, it’s decked out, secluded, he’s a bit of a doomsday prepper

- has once pissed outside to ‘mark his territory’ but you couldn’t torture that information out of him

- defo has that one room that is mysteriously locked and refuses to elaborate on when asked about it (Gaz secretly thinks it’s really cool) (it probably just has his fishing gear)

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- very chic, cool tones

- screams “I did economy as an A-Level but I use pinterest”

- probably has had some type of dinner party with the 141 just to subtly flex to them that “in another life I was an interior designer”

- also defo cooks something with wine just, again to subtly flex his culture capital (he just wants some approval guys bless him)

- plant father - cannot be convinced otherwise

- very organised, keeps it pretty clean unless he’s feeling lazy which isn’t very often

- definitely has a record player - do not mention it or he will go on about how it “just sounds better” (with Price in the background nodding in agreement - but in an old man way)

- somewhere has a box of stuff that doesn’t fit his aesthetic but it’s shit he needs to keep anyways

John “Soap Mactavish

- messy as fuck, no rhyme or reason to it he just puts stuff down, forgets its there and thats just where it lives now COUGH man-child COUGH

- puts some of his drawings up on his walls

- defo has a comic book collection and some action figures

- bunch of childhood shit he refuses to throw away - criminal hoarder

- he likes the messy kind of boyish charm it has, every time his mom comes over she scolds him for it

- a bunch of stuff he’s collected from different places he’s gone, he’ll usually grab some stuff while on deployment if he has any free time, like snow globes or whatever

- went to Greece once and got one of those wooden dicks and finds it so funny, he says it’s the living room’s ‘conversation piece’

- he’s pretty clean when on base aswell, it’s just without the millitary’s structure or someone literally forcing him to clean up he doesn’t really care - it’s his house anyways

Simon “Ghost” Riley

- um

- yikes

- yeah you can tell he doesn’t really like spending time at home on leave

- the singular chair infront of the tv is so sad

- king of minimalism - if that’s what you wanna call it ig

- doesn’t bother decorating or getting anything past the bare essentials because what’s the point?

- doesn’t care it’s a shithole, he can afford a better house, but it kind of reminds him of home back in Manchester (crying)

- definitely chain smokes in his bathroom

- he’s got a treadmill there somewhere

- has a box full of his family’s belongings under his bed (crying again)

- no mirrors, only a small one in the bathroom to shave

- only item of decoration is a snow globe Soap gave him once, it sits next to his bed

[mydarlingclaudia]

lalala I’m not immune to him… butcher Simon and fem!reader

wc : 882

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

sigh. Butcher!Simon Riley.

You're new in town, you need a job, you need to have something to do. Too bad that no one besides the small coffee shop a few minutes away was hiring, you got the job, but they could only offer you time to work in the mornings.

After the first week, one of your coworkers told you about the butcher shop down the street that could really use some help (even though the owner refused to put up a sign in the window or anything of the sort), it really wasn't an awful idea to give it a shot, yeah?

The first thing you notice when you walk into the small shop is that the man behind the counter is huge, like, stereotypical slasher kind of huge with a few scars on his face to really sell the look. He hardly pays you any mind, just a small glance and "What'cha gettin'?" while he wipes his hands on his apron.

You panic, mumble out that a few slices of pepperoni and salami is fine, then watch him work for a few odd moments before you ask him if there's any chance you could get a job there.

He once again just glances at you before handing the meat off to you and telling you to come back the next day at 4:30.

So– you get the job.

Simon–your boss's name, apparently–figured there was no harm in hiring you, you'd be working in the afternoon and cutting meat isn't too difficult. Plus, seeing your face light up when he told you the good news made him feel better.

The whole thing comes almost naturally, you don't mind the clean-up that needs to be done afterwards and you're good with the customers, it certainly makes everything easier for Simon. Another good thing is that he lives right above the shop, so if there's no customers that day, he'll just send you home, he can come downstairs if someone knocks on the door.

He's stopped by the coffee shop a few times, too, he normally makes a comment along the lines of "Busy girl, aye?" or "See you in an hour." but it’s easy to brush off.

It’s only after a couple of months when Simon really starts to talk to you, before it had just been him asking about your day or talking about shipments and customers, but now it’s asking about your favorite movies and if you’ve gone to that nice restaurant just outside of town yet, if you’ve got any plans for the weekend and “Wanna know somethin’ funny?”

Turns out he was in some kind of military, you only found out when he had leaned over the counter when someone was ordering and a pair of dog tags slid out from the front of his shirt. Simon tucked them back under his shirt when the customer left, so you thought it was better not to ask.

Anyway, he keeps getting friendlier with you. Telling you that you could take more of the tips from the tip jar was, going out to get lunch for the both of you and evening bringing you food he made from time to time, offering to walk you home, normal things. What you considered a bit odd was when he’d start helping you adjust your jacket whenever you’d put it on to leave or when he’d bring you actual gifts like earrings and sweaters that he said he didn’t need anymore.

Even though you thought it was strange, you liked it, Simon’s a lot sweeter than he looks.

Watching him work is great, too. You’re in no way complaining that you get to see the muscles underneath his shirt flexing nearly everyday, the doting and pet names he calls you are another added bonus.

Once you’ve been working there for nearly a year, he starts inviting you up to his apartment for dinner and insisting that you should just stay with him when the weather is bad. You just brush it off each time, saying you don’t want to intrude and that a little bit of snow wouldn’t hurt you, but the look in his eyes makes your gut twist and you almost say yes.

If that wasn’t enough for you to want to go home with him, then maybe the soft touches would be. Whenever Simon’s hands were clean, there’d always be a steadying hand on your back or a gentle squeeze to your hip when he passes behind you.

Besides, the time Simon decided the shop was closing early when it was almost time for you to go home for the night had been special, but that’s because he asked you, “Y’doin’ anythin’ tonight?” when you were putting on your jacket.

You never do much of anything at home, so you thought nothing of it when you shook your head and turned to the door, but once again, his big hands found their way to your waist and a kiss was planted to the corner of your eye before you could really process that Simon was ushering you out and walking beside you.

”Then we’re goin’ out tonight, ‘kay? Proper like.” You weren’t going to say no, and his hand that squeezed more made it feel like he was planning on keeping you.

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 9)

It was snowing.

Actually, 'snowing' was an understatement. It was a freaking blizzard. And it really came out of nowhere too, just a thin layer of snow covering the ground during the early hours and now, you couldn't see anything besides white throught the window.

Oh yeah, you were also sick.

To be fair, you knew you would get sick eventually thanks to this huge change in temperature. It wasn’t even because you were out with Johnny yesterday night; you would have gotten sick regardless. It just happened that everytime the seasons changed, a flu would strike you.

It happens, you were used to it, but still...

You certainly weren't used to the attention.

First of all, you woke up with someone already in your room. Two someones, actually. Johnny was anxiously pacing close to your bed, a frown on his face as he sniffled the air around you. Kyle was with him, head tilted in your direction as he also frowned in concern.

And in a second, Kyle's large hand was pressing against your forehead, then your warm, red cheeks, and then your small neck. His hand felt warm, as always, but even you could feel it that you were warmer, making him tsc in concern.

So, they decided to place you on the large living room couch, still in the sweater and sweatpants you were wearing as pajamas, propped carefully against the many pillows and cushions, with a blanket draped over your lap and legs.

The same blanket John had bought for you the day before.

"Temperature?" Price asks, voice gruff and arms crossed as he watches Kyle staring at the thermometer with a frown.

"37,7ºC. That's high for humans." He sighs, putting the thermometer aside.

Johnny frowns a bit at the information, sitting close to you so he could also check your temperature for himself.

"Almost as warm as a werewolf..." He mutters with his own frown on his face, leaning close enough to almost lay his head against your lap and torso. "How are ye feeling, wee pup?"

"F-Fine..." Your voice sounds a little rough, your throat a bit raspy. "I... I have... I usually get sick when the temperature changes... too quickly..."

He nods and croons at your quiet answer, now actually leaning to rub his head and fluffy ears against your chest.

"Here you go." Simon says quietly as he approaches with a light blue mug on hands, passing to you carefully as he kneels in front of the couch.

The mug was big and warm on your hold, but it was also enveloped in a small white cloth to make sure you wouldn't burn your hands, even tho the liquid inside wasn't even that hot. It was warm, just like it has to be.

"Lemon and honey tea, darlin'. Helps your throat nicely." He grunts out, heavy hand coming up to your forehead too, making you close your eyes slightly in satisfaction. His hands are much cooler thanks to his Wraith nature.

As he takes his hand away, you take a small sip of the tea. You weren't a fan of tea, but considering it's just lemon and honey... you can manage.

"With the way it's snowing outside, it's an indoor day for all of us." Price notes, looking out the window with his burly arms still crossed.

"Ah'll 'ave fun shoveling the snow later..." Johnny murmurs sarcastically as he sits up once again, glaring outside the window.

"Darlin', the tea." Simon reminds you gently after you took too long for a second sip.

You blush a little, nodding quietly as you take another sip. At least it felt soothing going down your throat; it didn’t hurt like it usually did when you forced yourself to drink water all the other times you were sick.

"Okay, I searched, and… it seems to be safe for humans to take Tylenol, but only in small doses." Kyle warns seriously, his wing twitching for a moment as if to reach for your small form sitting on the couch.

"I'll go get it." Simon gets up quickly, going to the bathroom closest to the living room.

You were sipping on your tea, distracted, staring at the direction Simon went off, enough to startle you as John kneels by your side on the couch, fixing the blanket on top of you to make sure it wouldn't slip off.

"Tell us if you feel worse or need anything, yes, hatchling?" he murmurs gruffly, leaning close enough to bump his forehead against yours. You were small enough to do it without his big horns getting in the way.

"O... Okay..." You mumble, a bit caught off guard, shyly looking away. "B-But... I'm fine..."

"Mhm, yeah, lassie, ye are. An' Ahm gonna know if ye aren't..." Johnny murmurs in the most omnious way possible, making you shiver a bit in place as you stare at him wide eyed, John just rolling his eyes with a smile on his lips. "Can smell ye, gonna knae right awa' if you worsen, yeah, wee pup?" He croons, scottish accent strong, leaning closer with a big, smug grin.

"Stop scaring the kid, mutt." Simon growls as he comes back, slapping the back of Johnny's head with a bit too much force in your opinion, but all the werewolf does is snap his teeth at the bigger man's direction with a huge smile still on his face.

"We only have in tablets?" Kyle murmurs, face scrunching in displeasure.

"Unfortunally. I'll buy drops later for next time." Simon rumbles back, gently running his hand over Kyle's ruffled feathers, making the harpy relax a little. "The tablets are good for now."

"These the 500mg?" Kyles asks, humming in consideration as Simon nods.

"Too strong." John rumbles lowly from his place kneeling by your side, hand firmly planted on your blanket.

The harpy nods, agreeing with the dragon as he stares at the tablet he popped out on his hand. In a quick movement, Kyle bites more than half of the tablet off, leaning over the back of the couch to give you the rest.

"Here you go, baby. Swallow it with your tea." He smiles lovingly, sharp nails gently putting the small piece against your small palm.

"Y-You swallowed...?" You mumble, slightly shocked with his actions.

"This medication is not enough to have any effect on me, chick." He smiles, a small and gentle laugh coming out of his mouth.

"Garrick has taken much stronger shit just to stay awake during missions." Ghost huffs humerously.

That comment certainly makes you curious, but your attention is called back to John as he gently pushes your small hand close to your mouth.

"Take it, doll, come on."

You nod quietly, quickly putting the tablet in your mouth and taking a sip of the almost-finished tea to swallow it under the watchful eyes of the four of them

"Good." John croons deeply, his eyes getting lighter for a second, startling you a little.

"Pup needs food." Johnny mumble, once again leaning close to your body.

"I'll make it," John huffs, climbing back to his feet. "Make a good bean soup with some bacon. Gonna liven up the pup right away."

"Add collard greens, great for the human flu." Ghost notes gravelly, leaning over the back of the couch where he and Kyle were standing to grab the empty mug from your hands.

They’re starting to give you a small headache. They truly didn’t stop, did they? They were always moving, always doing something. They worked so well together too, on top of their own game and each other’s.

"While they do that, it's time for a nap, don't ye think?" Johnny rumbles, pulling you to him in a quick motion that gets you almost dizzy.

"I-I just woke up..." You mumble, unsure, trying to look up at him from where you were laying against his body, but you were unsucceful as he simply pulled your blanket over you once again and made you lay sideways, putting a pillow over his stomach so you could lay your head on it confortably.

"And ye're sick, pup. Ye sleep." He rumbles gently, patting your small head of hair.

"That's good. We'll call you when the soup gets ready." Kyle nods with a loving smile on his face, his wings puffing out now for a different reason than his stress from moments ago.

Simon rounds the couch to reach the fireplace, adding more firewood with expertise, moving the still-not-burned logs with his bare hands to make sure the fire keeps going. Kyle takes the time to also draw the curtains close, immediately bringing darkness to the room now that all that expanse of white snow was covered.

You were still a bit in alert, but the darkness helped your mind to settle a bit, Johnny's warmth under you making you sleepier than you though you would feel as his giant hand kept caressing your short hair, sharp nails scratching oh so gentle against your scalp. Apparently, he's going to be with you all the time to make sure you're safe and sound, healthy and comfortable.

He cooed something very quietly, but you didn’t manage to understand it before your eyes fell closed, exhaustion brought on by the flu making you fall asleep quickly.

Your social worker was right... they are so nurturing... you have been with them for barely three days, and yet...

Your eyes go a little misty as you start to lose consciousness.

You don't want to leave.

Part 8 / Part 10

[dvchvnde]

EXCERPT: alpha Soap x omega Reader

The call comes at quarter to six.

This deep in the mountains, poor reception makes the air crackle with static when it blooms to life. He answers with fingers numbed from the cold outside, offering little more than a grunt of his acknowledgement.

Spotted somethin' on the edge a'town. Person.

"Person?" He echoes, tapping his finger against the worn, shiny leather of the steering wheel.

It jars him. The idea of a person being out there is strange. Tourist season is over. And now the sky glooms with an encroaching winterstorm—murky brush strokes peppering along the horizon, taken from a washed out easel of a once bountiful autumn palette now muddy and blurred with use, blanketing harsh, dense clouds over the granite skyline. He can't imagine anyone wanting to be out there right now.

"Why?"

Not sure... Local spotted 'em runnin' barefoot through the forest. Ain't dressed for the winter. Omega, too—

Johnny sucks in a sharp breath, fingers tightening around the receiver. Everything sifts through his head, catagorically organised—snow on the ground, barefoot; underdressed—but it skips, snagging over that single word:

Omega.

He scrapes his tongue over his sharpened canines. The pain is grounding for a handful of seconds. Enough time for him to weigh his options: let someone else take it over—Kyle (unmated), Simon (mated with a territorial omega but one he liked to rile up), Price (divorced, unmated)—or taking care of it himself.

A bad idea.

But they all are, really.

His rut is there. Equinoctial. On the edge, the precipice. He can feel it crawling up his spine, tarlike tentacles curling around each vertebrae, jowls gnashing at the sight of his vulnerable stem in sight. Eager to sink it's teeth in.

(him, too, eager to sink his teeth in—)

The wolf that unmakes him each axial precession—vernal, estival, autumnal, and hibernal—prowls in the prison it's kept inside, waiting. Winter is always the worst rut for him. For most alphas, really. The urge to fuck and eat and sleep is a near constant pull in their hindbrain. And without the ability to swallow down tablets to dull the ache in his teeth, and sweat out the fever by running around the forest until he could think beyond the throbbing swell at the base of his cock, it eats him alive every winter.

Drives him mad.

"ahm oan it," he slurs into the plastic voicebox, pawing urgently at the keys in the ignition. He feels hot under his collar. Sweat gathering along his hairline. Condensation blooms over the windows as his fever thrums through his veins, warring with the frigid temperatures outside. Minus ten degrees celsius, his gauge reads.

He clucks his tongue in agitation. No one, much less an omega, should be out in that sort of weather unprepared. Mated or not, whoever's looking out for your safety is going to get the brunt of apologetic, rut-fueled anger.

(Price'd be proud, he thinks, huffing through the heat in his throat—)

The dispatch officer hesitates. The line filling with static briefly as if they, too, are thinking the same thing—

An unmated alpha running after an omega. Potentially unmated as well if they're barefoot and barely dressed in this weather. It feels potentially cataclysmic. Watching the tide recede on the beach and knowing that danger is quickly approaching but being unable to do anything to prevent it.

Natural devastation.

Still. Who else is out here right now that can reach them in time?

The line crackles with their last known location as he puts the truck in drive, and navigates the winding gravel path. An address follows—the omega centre in town, he knows—and it snaps through the truck like a warning.

Be good.

And he will be.

He'll find you, bring you to the shelter before the storm hits, and then find a pretty little thing to fuck the fever out on for the next week. The centre has willing omegas he can pick from. A win-win situation.

He gets to be a hero for a few hours, and then sink his knot into something sweet.

Sit tight, little omega, he thinks, tongue pressed flat to his aching canines. Rescue is coming.

[girl-lostconnection]

Definitely not the last part, I like this au a little too much, I think. And you, guys, seemed to like the first part so here’s some more

Unsweetened Lemonade AU (part 2)

part 1 || part 3

Warnings: bullying, allegory to abuse, eating as coping mechanism, Punk!Ghost x Nerd!Reader, violence

Simon walks back home wrapped in soft scarf, still faintly smelling like you.

He’s warm for the first time in what feels like forever, his cheeks no longer burning from harsh English winter winds, nose no longer numb from cold, dull headaches he always gets in winter subsiding.

It’s unnerving and new and he’s not sure if he wants to snatch the scarf off or hold on.

Fucking bliss.

But scarf is warm and it’s soft and it’s enough to keep him from getting hypothermia on his way home.

It’s nice. It’s bloody lovely and he doesn’t know how to feel about that.

And maybe Simon should have tossed it away as soon as he got home but he doesn’t.

He can’t really afford to throw away the first nice thing he got (he’s got it, right? It’s his now, you won’t take it away, won’t you?) in a long time.

Simon folds it neatly and hides it under the mattress, fingers lingering on warm fabric of it, uncomfortable tightness in his chest making it harder to push air down his throat.

It’s nice. He’s not used to nice.

He can’t get used to nice. He can’t afford to get used to nice and hope and dream and- (hope is a silent but very sadistic killer. Hope takes away everything, pulling out every thread of your being until you are naked in the snow and your lips are blue and your cheeks freezing and you feel like begging and crying and pleading).

No, nice isn’t for Ghost. Just not in the cards, probably. Wasn’t meant to be for someone like him.

Still Simon isn’t sure if he can just leave the fluffy thing at home, not with the way dad is ravaging around the house, nitpicking at every bloody thing, going through their things and ruining-ruining-ruining.

Simon feels like everything that his dad touches gets stained.

Gets dirty and broke and useless.

Turns into rubbish.

Simon feels like rubbish a lot nowadays.

Simon packs the scarf in his worn out backpack, thrusting it deep at the bottom of it. He isn’t sure he’s ready to wear it out just like that, at least not this close to home. Or close to you.

It feels like weakness. Why does it feel like weakness?It’s just a scarf. It’s his scarf now, he can wear it, it doesn’t mean anything.

Simon allows himself a weakness when he smokes behind school, scarf wrapped around his neck, fabric clinging to harsh lines of his face. Smoke gets soaked up in fabric quickly, like it’s definitely his now. Smelling like him, clinging to him, keeping him nice and warm.

No one can take it away from him now. Not even you — he’ll fight if he needs to, but he’s keeping the bloody thing.

Ghost is greedy for any scrap of kindness that he can stomach, tender bloodying insides of his heart ready to absorb every crumb and every drop.

He’s so hungry for it, always so fucking hungry — it never goes away, no matter how much he eats. No matter if he can eat at all.

He makes himself go back inside before the bell rings, shoulders square and tense — almost an instinct now, sometimes he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

School is the same grey nothing — teenagers can be cruel but Ghost is one mean dog of a lad.

Disproportionate and angry, limbs too long, palms too big, punches never pulled and teeth always bared.

And it’s nothing, it’s just one of these days when people are bored and when you get the usual cruel thing thrown in your face, like you aren’t even there.

Like it’s okay to stain someone like that.

And Ghost isn’t your friend, you are no one to each other — opposite sides of the same “loser” spectrum, he just wears his better (or he thinks he does, not like anyone has enough guts to tell him otherwise).

Ghost is no one to you and he doesn’t do nice, he’s the furthest thing from knight in shining armour because frankly, maybe something is fucking wrong with you since you never fight.

But then your things are getting spilled on the floor and someone steps on the notebook — cover worn-out, well-loved and there’s sudden aching rage in your eyes that makes a hungry mutt part of him lean in.

Oh.

Oh.

So there’s someone inside that shell of a person. The lights can be turned on, eh?

Mutt inside him raises its big head, tugs air in, smelling your anger, smelling your tears, smelling the blood pumping in your ears so loudly it’s difficult to breathe.

Because it’s too early, it’s too much, it’s too hurtful and you can’t help it but you are madmadmad, angry sharp tears prickling in the corners of your eyes, palms curling in first (silly, you don’t know how to fight, you never fight, what’s use in your fists)

And there’s no actual way you could do something in your situation and your bully’s boot presses harder on the notebook, pages starting to tear under deliberate malicious pressure.

Simon doesn’t think twice before his fist connects to your bully’s face, sickening crunch of the bone visceral in suddenly quiet hallway.

Simon hits so they won’t even think twice. So they never get up and fight. So they stay down.

Where they fucking belong.

And no one stops him. Part of him scoffs at this in irritation, because of fucking course.

Just like no one stopped the asshole who has been making your life hell.

No one wants to get in his way because everybody knows that Simon “Ghost” Riley is aggressive cunt with chip on his shoulder and deep seated eyes of a feral mutt.

You don’t look at him when you scramble to get away, further, frantically pushing your things back in your bag — notebooks and stationary all over the less than clean floors. God, what their janitor even does on the clock, look at the state of the damn thing.

Simon doesn’t say anything but picks up your notebooks and pushes them in your hands before leaving without a single word.

It’s nothing, just favour returned.

Now you can’t ask for the scarf back — he’s paid it off.

Ghost can’t handle people being nice to him. Ghost isn’t sure he wants to handle people being mean to you either.

And it would be the end of it, but for some reason during lunch you plop down across from him, sinking feeling in your stomach when he sends you a glare.

But you aren’t moving anywhere — you want to eat in peace and no one in their right fucking mind would try to disturb perpetually brooding Simon Riley when he eats.

So you sit with him and don’t scurry off when he huffs out air in short annoyed pant, brows furrowing, eyes boring into you.

But you don’t talk to him and don’t look at him and don’t try to extend your hand.

You just want to eat in peace. You just want a moment’s quiet. A moment’s security.

So Simon doesn’t bite and deliberately doesn’t look your way either.

You two aren’t friends and he’s not a bloody knight in shining armour — you probably have nothing in common. Ghost is not planning on finding out for sure.

But for some reason you push towards him your apple, making it roll across the table with the same sound Simon hears in his head when he’s overwhelmed.

It practically falls in his lap and then on the floor before he manages to catch it.

Simon wants to ask what the fuck you do you think you are doing.

Simon wants to snarl and make you choke on your fucking pity, because he doesn’t need it.

But you aren’t looking at him, you are doing your best to stare down on your plate, shovelling food with the same raw desperate intensity he knows all too well.

You don’t look at him and you don’t extend your hand.

So Simon doesn’t bite. Simon takes the apple and hides it in his backpack, not saying anything.

Just another favour to repay later, that’s all, right?

Tags: @itsmadamehydra

[oceantornadoo]

you: an absolute teeth-aching bone deep want to be loved and to give love. that hollow feeling behind your chest is too familiar and you want it gone. you just want to be in love, to treat someone with gentleness and to be wanted.

your 141 bae who has been in love with you since the moment he met you: ...i'm right here

gn!reader headcanons below the cut:

childhood best friend simon: let's say you knew him before he lost his family. a scrawny-limbed blond, always willing to extend a trip to the park or a cigarette behind school - anything to not go home. you'd visit him when he started part-time as a butcher in high school, wrinkling your nose at the smell of bloody meat but staying anyways, doing your homework at the singular table in the shop. he was there when you moved away from town, for college or a new job or any life-altering decision that he was secondary to, something simon could only hope to grasp. once he leaves for the military, you mourn your relationship and move on. simon is a blur in your mind, a reminder of snow days and sweet tea summers and leaf piles and dandelion picking, on a nostalgic shelf in the untouched corners of your brain. ten years later, you've finally made a name for yourself and truly gotten out; grown roots. but you still have this soul-deep yearning, some unfamiliar-shaped hole in your chest that miraculously fills when you open your door to simon, a grown man who's tired of wanting you from afar. tired of stalking your social media and writing fantasies in his head. tired of picking people to fuck just because they look like you, then going soft halfway through because their voice isn't the right pitch. he's here, and he's ready to do whatever it takes.

best friend gaz: now this is different from a childhood best friend, so keep that in mind. gaz is always this guy-next-door type with a panty-dropping smile and impeccable manners. this notion does him some good, helps him avoid some deep-rooted british military prejudices, but it also turns you away. you check him off as nice and place him in the best friend box. you don't understand how he tracks your every move on a mission, almost always getting caught by johnny or price. you miss how he grips his pint ten times harder when he sees you on the pub floor, dancing with some stranger whose hands are a bit too low. he tells you he gets rejected for being "too nice", but really, he ignores his 27 unread DMs and flirty cafe eye contact in favor of movie nights, prank wars, your shitty reality shows. he's grasping onto straws, can't you see sweetheart? when you're drunk and turn into a cuddler, he can pretend just for a second that you truly mean it. gaz lets your hands wander under his shirt, lets you murmur your darkest fear of never being loved into the quietness of your room, leaving you to sleep on top of your covers with a kiss to the forehead. he doesn't know what's pushed him over: you almost dying on that last mission, you making out with a stranger in a bar, you you you in those pants and that shirt and that's it. he has to say something. has to put it all on the line because gaz can't live like this anymore.

best friend's brother price: it was some one-sided crush, your best friend's brother with his suave teenage ways as compared to your brutal tween phase, acne and braces on the way. it had dissipated quickly, john never the wiser, his presence substituted with trendy band obsessions and first kisses. instead, it happened at your best friend's wedding. you were both in the wedding party, some object of fate throwing you together as your best friend forced you two to dance. you were tipsy on champagne, on the happiness of marriage, that you giddily admitted your fleeting childhood crush and how much john had grown since then. and that was it. john was always going to settle down, always going to have a pretty thing waiting for him back home, he just didn't figure out until right now that it would be you. he tries to hide his affections under friendliness, not wanting to ruin your friendship with his sibling, but john has never been discrete. he's suddenly invading your life with offers of fixing your kitchen sink, painting that one spot you can't reach, moving your couch to fit your latest pinterest board. you're practically family, love - which kills all your hopes for something more, feeling like a familyzone. but john means it differently, means you're predestined to be his, already accepted and loved by his loved ones and how could he not see it before? you refuse to accept his kindness and it absolutely kills him, so he scares off potential dates and any chance of meet-cutes with an arm around your waist and why can't you see him the way he sees you?

friends with benefits johnny: it was just sex, right? you'd been the one to say it, the one to set that boundary with your fellow sergeant. you didn't think johnny was capable of more, mistaking his cheeky smirks and booming laugh for being unserious, when in reality, johnny is as serious as it gets. he tells himself he can fuck you because he'll marry you one day, that cross sitting heavy under his shirts. he doesn't wash his sheets for weeks after that first fuck, too busy inhaling the scent of you cumming around his mouth, his cock. that is, until, you tell him his sheets stink and refuse to fuck him and he pretends you're having an argument as a married couple, all intimate and bored. johnny sees a recruit getting too flirty and pulls you into a supply closet using his best distraction methods. he sways you from joining a month's long solo mission, some stupid excuse about missing your lips too much when really he knows it's a suicide mission. johnny forces you to stay over after a midnight fuck, some bullshit about simon being up at that time and seeing you in the hallway on base. in reality, he treasures cuddling you with his brawny arms, pretending you're his willingly. pretending he's made peace with you, this wild creature, never tamed but understood. he can't force himself to ask for more, too scared to lose the crumbs he's holding onto. johnny tries to hide it with a fiery personality and a thick accent, but inside? he's a complete goner.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Holiday w/ Friends pt. 2

Random posts on the TL of the lads girlies and their holiday trip ft. comments from the LIs, Jenna and Nero

liiisa_

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, simonesays, imjenna and 78k others

liiisa_: this bitch really crashed this hoe

tagged: misshuntermc

comments

misshuntermc: I would've made it if I didn’t get stuck on that snowdrift

↳ simonesays: you mean the tree? 🤨

imjenna: what is she pointing at?

↳ liiisa_: A TREE ↳ talkthat_tara: “can you shovel some of this snow?” BITCH THATS A TREE

misshuntermc: why are you bringing up old shit?

↳ liiisa_: this was 30 minutes ago ↳ misshuntermc: exactly

talkthat_tara: she almost ran the instructor over we should've known she’d crash 🙄

↳ misshuntermc: are y’all jumping me right now? ↳ simonesays: babes please stay a passenger princess 🙏🏼 ↳ liiisa_: PLEASE 🙏🏼

_thedrzayne: mistakes happen 🤷🏻‍♂️

lumiere.who: that tree shouldn't have been there

seagod_raf_: that tree is a hater 😤

skye.109: Do I need to buy the resort?

↳ seagod_raf_: Relax my guy you're not the only one with money ↳ skye.109: Huh? oh I thought somebody with the lowest bounty said something ↳ seagod_raf_: Alright now I gotta assassinate you ↳ _thedrzayne: Since when is having a bounty on your head a good thing?

talkthat_tara: well damn…. ^^

talkthat_tara

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, simonesays, liiisa_ and 82.3k others

talkthat_tara: Healing my inner child every time we’re together 🥰

tagged: misshuntermc, simonesays, liiisa_

comments

misshuntermc: Stop I will cry right now 🥺

liiisa_: “you know what yea life is good” - Me every time we hangout 🥹

simonesays: Now what if I cry like a baby?? what then??? HUH!? ☹️

nene.nero: MC is tagged but I don’t see her

↳ misshuntermc: simone knocked me to the floor ↳ simonesays: I made sure you were okay before I laughed ↳ misshuntermc: bitch 😑

imjenna: no invite?

↳ liiisa_: you woulda came? 😧 ↳ talkthat_tara: stop I will come pick you up right now ↳ imjenna: I'll pack my bag ↳ simonesays: AHHHHHH JENNA 🤭

nene.nero: no invite?

↳ simonesays: ….. so anyway im going to the store y’all want anything? ↳ liiisa_: sun chips and gushers please ↳ talkthat_tara: Cheez its ↳ misshuntermc: nerd clusters and wine ↳ nene.nero: 😐

misshuntermc [Private story]

↺ viewed by skye.109, seagod_raf_, thedrzayne and 7 others

misshuntermc: Seconds before disaster

mentioned: liiisa_

talkthat_tara replied to private story: IS THIS HOW YOU GUYS FELL INTO THE MIRROR??

_thedrzayne replied to private story: Please don’t tell me you hurt yourself 😒

seagod_raf_ replied to private story: lol dumbass ☠️

simonesays replied to private story: it sounded like a boulder fell into the house wtf 🥴

liiisa_ replied to private story: bitch im still laughing 🤣🤣

simonesays

♥️ liked by misshuntermc, imjenna, liiisa_ and 78.1k others

simonesays: My dumbass loves 😚

tagged: misshuntermc, talkthat_tara

comments

liiisa_: I wish you would’ve got the noodle smacking MC in the cheek

↳ misshuntermc: why are you praying on my downfall? 🧐

talkthat_tara: That pasta was hot as hell why did I let her talk me into a “noodle race”

↳ misshuntermc: because you love me 🥰 ↳ simonesays: because you two bet money

imjenna: You four are my top hunters what happens when you leave work?

↳ simonesays: we all start running off one braincell 🤷🏻‍♀️ ↳ liiisa_: I simply turn my brain off ↳ talkthat_tara: brain off just vibin’ 🙂‍↕️ ↳ misshuntermc: idk man I just work here

pt. 1