#so we gonna mash them all together!!!!

[cjlouwho]

part 2 to my lonely tommy fic. this time he's not so lonely anymore.

“What did you do this time?”

“Angela!” Tommy exclaimed, smiling brightly as she walked into the room. “Or Angie? Angel? We never clarified that.”

“You know, when I saw your name I thought dear God, that man's still alive? I was certain you would have sawed off a few more body parts by now.”

“I'm trying to keep my limbs, I promise.”

“So then tell me why you're here, back in recovery.”

“My appendix hates me.”

“Oh, that's a pesky little thing, isn't it?” she asked.

“It is. Are you my nurse today?”

“Not supposed to be, but I've got seniority on Gina, so she can deal with the jackass in 212.”

“I knew I was your favorite,” he replied, giving her a wink.

Angela rolled her eyes. “I haven't looked through your paperwork yet,” she said, waving the file in her hand. “Should I assume nothing's changed from last year?”

“You know what they say about assumptions, Angela.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you telling me there's gonna be a person to call in here?”

He nodded. “There is a name and a number. And it's a person I actually know. You won't have to call though.”

“I swear, if you tell me you brought yourself here again-”

“No, no, I didn't this time. I just-”

“I got some jello cups from the nurses station, and ice for- Marie?!”

Angela's eyes widened, a grin on her face. “Buck!” she exclaimed, opening her arms for a hug.

“Marie?” Tommy questioned, confused.

Ignoring him, Angela kept her focus on Buck. “What are you doing here? And in normal clothes! I only ever see you when you're in the bed!”

Buck laughed. “I'm a plus one this time. Tommy's appendix decided to burst in the middle of his shift.”

“You two work together?”

“Oh, no. He's at 217, I'm at 118.”

“He's my boyfriend,” Tommy clarified.

“Ohh, okay.” She turned toward Tommy, wiggling her eyebrows. “That's some new information for me.”

Buck took the ice and jello over to Tommy. He tore off the lid and scooped a little bit of the lime jello onto a spoon, then brought it up to Tommy's mouth. He took the bite without complaint.

“They only want him eating soft foods for the next few hours,” Buck said as Angela watched them both with nothing but fondness on her face. “But he gets hungry so fast I keep going for more jello cups.”

“How about I search around for something that will keep you fuller a bit longer?” Angela suggested. “Like some mashed potatoes?”

Tommy swallowed the next bite of jello. “That actually sounds really good.”

“I'll be right back.”

“Wait!” Tommy exclaimed before she could get too far. “Marie?”

She walked back over to his bed. “It's my middle name, and it's what everyone else calls me. You have to keep calling me Angela, because you pissed me off,” she said, gently smacking his leg with the file folder.

“Ohhh,” Buck teased, looking at Tommy with wide eyes, “someone's in trouble.”

“You had me worrying about you for a whole damn year while you were cozying up to one of my favorite patients? The nerve, Thomas.”

“Yikes,” Buck grimaced. “You got Thomas'd.”

“That's just Angela's way of telling me she loves me.”

“Mhm. You've aged me, Mr. Kinard.”

“This could have all been prevented if you'd let me use you as my emergency contact.”

She shook her head. “I'll be back with potatoes. Keep him in check, Buck!”

“Will do.”

Once she left the room, Buck eyes Tommy. "So you know Marie too?"

He nodded. "I do."

*****

After eating some potatoes, Tommy dozed in and out for the next couple of hours.

After that, he and Buck were in the middle of a very competitive episode of The Price is Right when there was a knock on the door.

One by one, people began to file in, much to Tommy's surprise.

Eddie, Hen, Bobby, Athena, Maddie, and Howie gathered into the room, hands filled with different items.

After all the hello's and how are you's, they took turns handing over what they brought.

“We brought flowers,” Athena said, setting them on a corner table. “To brighten the place up a bit.”

“Jee wanted to make you something special to look at while you're in here,” Maddie said, breaking through the crowd to hand Tommy a piece of paper. “She said it's her, her Uncle Buck, and her Uncle Tommy at the zoo.”

Tommy stared down at the picture. Three people, a step above stick figures, with their hands connected as they walked down a path. Some birds and other unidentifiable animals surrounding them.

“It's beautiful,” he said, speaking softly. “Tell her I said thank you. I love it.”

“Karen made cookies.” Hen dropped a bag down on Tommy's tray table. “Snickerdoodle and red velvet. They're your favorites, apparently?”

“They are!” Tommy replied in surprise. “I can't believe she remembered that. I just mentioned it in passing one day.”

“Karen remembers everything about the people she cares about,” Hen responded with a grin. “One of the many things I love about her.”

“We made a schedule,” Eddie said, pulling a piece of paper out of his back pocket.

“Buck made a schedule,” Chimney clarified.

“I've given Buck a couple days off,” Bobby said, “and after that we will be bugging you in shifts.”

“You guys don't have to-”

“Don't even try to fight it,” Hen interrupted. “We've already been made to memorize our individual schedules and tasks.”

“This is happening, Tommy,” Eddie said, giving him a pat on the shoulder, “whether you like it or not.”

Athena hummed. “And I can guarantee by the time you have fully recovered, you will not.”

“He's gonna love it,” Buck said, glaring over at Eddie. “Who brought the balloons?”

“That would be me,” Eddie replied. “Along with an airplane-shaped stuffed toy that actually used to be Christopher's, but he hasn't touched it in years.”

“And I found the cutest teddy bear in the gift shop,” Chimney said, coming up beside Tommy to tuck the bear into his side, “because I don't bring used toys to my friends.”

“Rude!” Eddie exclaimed. “At least he likes airplanes.”

“He likes bears too!” Chimney defended, then he looked down at Tommy. “You like bears too, right?”

“That could mean so many different things to me,” Tommy replied honestly. “But, yes, I love the teddy bear and the airplane. Thank you guys. All of you.”

“I know I didn't technically bring anything,” Bobby said, “but I will be making you guys some meals that you'll just have to heat up for the next couple weeks, at least.”

“You don't have to do that, Bobby.”

“Well, it's not just for you,” Bobby explained.

Athena rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”

“These are new meals I'm trying out,” Bobby continued, “So I need honest reviews before I start making them at work. Don't sugar coat it.”

Tommy lifted three fingers. “Scouts honor.”

As the conversations picked up around him, Tommy settled further into the bed. Buck smiled over at him, taking his hand. “Sorry,” he said, “I didn't know they'd all be coming at once.”

Tommy shook his head. “Don't be sorry,” he replied, giving Buck's hand a squeeze. “This is perfect.”

*****

It was dark outside when Angela came back into the room for her final check before getting off shift. The only light filtering through the room came from the bathroom. Tommy was sitting up, staring down at the drawing Jee had given him.

“Wow!” Angela exclaimed as she walked in. “Someone had a lot of visitors today.”

The room was littered with items that had been left behind.

Tommy smiled up at her. “Yes, Ma'am.”

“We could hear you all laughing from down the hall,” she said as she began to switch out his IV bag. “It was nice.”

“Yeah, it... It was.”

“Did you finally get your boy to go home?”

“Uh, no.” Tommy set the drawing back down on the table. “He's actually gone to get more blankets. I told him I was fine, but he said my feet always get cold at night so I'd need extra.”

“He takes good care of you.”

“Yeah, he does.”

She grinned down at him. “You take good care of him?”

“I try to,” he answered honestly.

They fell into a comfortable silence as she finished up her work.

She gave him a couple of sideways glances before asking. “You okay?”

He bit at his lip, suddenly overcome with emotion as he stared at his GET WELL SOON balloon. Everything had changed so much in the past year. His old life felt nearly unrecognizable.

“It's just a little overwhelming,” he admitted, clearing his throat. “Last time I went home from here I was alone. I took care of myself until I got better. This time I have a schedule to memorize of who is visiting when.”

“Sounds like a good problem to have to me.”

“It is,” he agreed, even as his voice broke. “I just never thought I'd have people.” His eyes burned, filling with tears. “Doesn't feel like I deserve it.”

“Oh, honey.” She leaned over the bed, cradling his head in her arms. She could feel the wetness from his tears on her sleeve. “You are so loved,” she told him as he let himself be held. “You deserve that.”

She leaned back enough to hold onto Tommy's face, wiping his tears with her thumbs as she spoke to him. “All these people who showed up for you today, they came because they love you. Because you show them the same love. And that man you've got, well, he looks at you like you're more precious than gold. Let yourself be happy, okay? You've got people now. You've got people forever.”

He took a shaky breath and nodded, Angela wiping away the last of the tears before letting him go.

He grabbed a tissue off his tray table and wiped his nose. “Do I get to call you Marie now?” he asked.

She laughed. “Oh, no. You're special, so you're stuck with Angela.”

“I got five blankets and two pillows,” Buck said as he entered the room, “which I know you won't need, but I'm trading chairs with the guy in 212- who's a bit of an ass, by the way- so I get the recliner.”

“You're staying the night?” Angela asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, um, yeah,” he answered sheepishly, his cheeks going pink. “I didn't ask, but I- I figured-”

“It's fine,” she assured him before heading for the door. “I didn't think you'd be leaving anyway. I'll see you two lovebirds in the morning, alright?”

“Goodnight, Marie!”

“Thank you, Angela.”

Buck took one of the blankets and spread it out over Tommy's legs. “I gotta go switch these chairs out. Are you good until I get back?”

Tommy reached out for Buck's hand, tugging on him until he was close enough to kiss. When he pulled away, he smiled. “I'm good.”

[sturn-saturn]

little one

pairing: teen!mom!reader x teen!dad!chris

warnings: cutesy stuff, reader and chris are 19 in this‼️

requested: yes

you and chris were best friends, did everything together, went everywhere together, and had the same friend group. it wasn’t until your sophomore year when you both noticed your feelings for each other. what’s better than being with your best friend?

it’s present day and you both have a 3 year old daughter, riley. riley definitely got her personality from her dad. she’s always laughing, making jokes, and snuggling everyone around. she loves making people happy to say the least.

“c’mon, honey.” chris says holding his daughters hand. “we’re gonna see uncle colby and uncle sam.”

you hurry and grab riley’s other hand and continue on, “and aunt tara and uncle jake and uncle johnnie andddd.”

“and uncle nick and uncle matt!” riley says enthusiastically.

“yes!” chris responds

“babe we can’t stay for too long cause she has to go to bed at a decent time.” you tell your boyfriend.

“yeah of course. they know we have to leave a bit early.”

you and chris were invited to tara’s house for a dinner with all your friends. one thing you and chris were grateful for is the amazing supportive friend group ever since you both found out you were having a baby.

you were both a bit nervous because this is riley’s first time meeting your friends since she was born. you and chris lived in boston up until last month. he moved to LA with his brothers to further their career.

you enter tara’s house and hear chattering coming from the kitchen.

“THERE THEY ARE!” tara yells running to you and chris. “guys they brought little one with them!”

“hey y/n, hey chris” nick hugs you both.

“well if it isn’t the sturniolos youngest member of the family.” matt says with his hands on his hips looking down at riley.

“UNCLE MATT!” riley exclaims hugging his leg.

“hey little one!” he says picking her up. “how’s it going princess.”

“good! daddy got me a new bow!”

“did he now. you look beautiful.” he smiles.

“alright, so, the chickens in the oven, the mashed potatoes are almost ready, green beans are in the pan, salads in the fridge, and i need everyone’s hands on deck to set the table up.” tara says clapping her hands together.

“aunt tara, can i help?” riley says as matt’s still holding her.

“i have the perfect task for you, little one. how about you do uncle matt’s makeup for dinner, yeah?”

“MAKEUP!” she yells.

“makeups on the counter of my sink.” tara says patting matt’s back as she finishes up in the kitchen.

“you’re trouble aren’t you riley.” matt giggles walking away with her.

“mama and daddy say the same thing about you uncle matt.”

“WHAT!?”

[descendant-of-truth]

That said, I do think that Shadow Generations being such a more carefully cultivated exploration of Shadow's past compared to what the original Generations was for Sonic is... not doing Sonic himself any favors

General audiences are already kind of under the impression that Sonic as a character is fundamentally not that deep or interesting, and Generations was written during a time that really, really wanted to prove that notion right. Sonic "being deep" was what, seemingly, caused so much critical backlash, so to counteract that, they gave us the blandest cutscenes Sonic has ever had the displeasure of being in.

But that's not really what Sega is trying to push for, now. Frontiers wanted to be more serious, with a mature, down-to-earth Sonic. The movies gave him an origin story that inherently makes him a lot more complicated than usual. Prime put the focus on his emotions and gave him a character arc that lasted the whole show. The IDW comics can get extremely serious, and we're treated to Sonic's inner monologue as he wrestles with difficult choices. They clearly want Sonic as a character to be interesting to people, not just a vehicle for action and quips.

But putting the old Sonic Generations in the same package as the new Shadow Generations is inherently portraying them as equivalent experiences. When Sonic explores his past, it's no big deal - just another day on the hero job! Absolutely nothing worth exploring on his end when it comes to meeting his past self and revisiting his memories! Nope! No need to use time travel as a way to explore his core values as a person who prefers to live in the moment and not be bound by his past, no siree!

Oh, but Shadow? Now that's the actually interesting character! Revisiting Shadow's past is such an exciting event that it requires the whole year to hype up, and Sonic's just so boring in comparison, isn't he? Who really cares about Sonic beyond his surface-level characteristics anyway, right? The Sonic Generations remaster is more of an accessory to what's essentially Shadow the Hedgehog 2 at this point, and that bothers me.

Sure, Sonic doesn't have "a backstory" like Shadow does. But the past that we explore in Sonic Generations isn't his literal origins, but all the adventures we went on with him. Imagine how much depth you could wring out of him if you just took those events as being legitimate parts of his life that he has feelings on! Feelings we could explore!

But because it's a remaster instead of a full-blown remake, all of this effort they're putting into Shadow's campaign is nowhere to be seen in Sonic's. Can you imagine how good of a package deal this would be if Sonic's character was given this much care and respect, too? Like, we have two Sonics, but Shadow is getting more than double the favoritism.

And the fact that this is only going to continue to push the idea that Sonic is just. incapable of being interesting, or even really affected by what happens around him is really frustrating. We already have the movies and Prime drastically changing his demeanor and core traits for the sake of making him "able" to have character development, and as much as I love those versions as characters, it's really doing a disservice to who Sonic is supposed to be.

The last thing we need is for Generations to come out again and make the Sonic from the games seem like the least interesting version of him. Bringing Shadow up should not involve dragging Sonic down - they're supposed to be equals. But this game doesn't seem to be showcasing that very well, on account of essentially being two games written by different people haphazardly mashed together.

People being introduced to the series through this game are going to have such a skewed perception of what Sonic is like as a person, as well as what he's like compared to Shadow, and that just. makes me kinda upset not gonna lie

[shera-dnd]

I have decided against my better judgement to be weird about the Dawntrail MSQ

and we can't talk about an expansion set in the fantasy americas without talking about

COLONIALISM

oh yeah, we're going there baby

So disclaimer that I may be brazilian, but my ass is white as hell, so take everything I say with a grain of salt. Also if any native americans have made posts on this please let me know so I can boost their analysis as well

Also also I'm more than happy to delete this post if I mess up. I'm genuinely trying to make a thoughtful analysis, so if I fuck up just say the word and this thing is gone from this website

Oh also also also, Dawntrail MSQ spoilers ahead!

So FFXIV has had a... messy relationship with colonialism over the years

The fact that the major antagonists for the first half of A Realm Reborn a literally called "beast man tribes" is absolutely not a good start to this story

Add to that the fact that The Twelve (Eorzea's gods) are shown to be kind all powerful deities, while the Primals (the tribal gods) are evil spirits summoned to bring destruction to the world

and yeah no ARR is not good with that shit. It's EXTREMELY not good. If I hadn't been told it got better later on I would have dropped this shit before I got to Titan

But they have been taking steps to unfuck things. First we're shown that even the "civilized societies" (in this case the catholic elves) can summon Primals, then that Primal summoning isn't an actual native custom but was introduced by foreigners with malicious intent, and that not all "beast man" practice that

Then they changed the names of the "Beast Man Tribe Quests" to "Tribal Quests" and then finally to "Allied Society Quest"

Which would have been an empty gesture had like half of the post-Shadowbringer patches, as well a lot of Endwalker, not been about forming alliances with those people and working together with them, recognizing that they have as much right to the land and to life as any Eorzean, this all culminating on the Primals being summoned with the express purpose of helping you protect the world you all share

I guess they realized that they couldn't have their big bad for most of the game be the evil expansionist empire, if they didn't like actually reflect in their own imperialist fantasies they were propagating

Then the teaser trailer for Dawntrail drops and everyone in the fandom is like "wait... are we gonna do a colonialism?"

And memes were abound of how all those lessons from before don't apply to the "New World" of Tural

THANKFULLY the actual questline leading to Dawntrail helped to settle some of those worries

We're not going to Tural to explore a new uncharted land, but are actually being invited over by the local royalty in order to aid them with their right of succession. We get introduced to the nation of Tuliyollal and how it's a thriving land with its own culture and not just a "terra nil" waiting to be colonized

Still there are some worries that this is gonna turn out poorly and that we're just gonna end up being white saviors

But I think they managed to avoid that pretty well

For starters neither the Scions nor the Warrior of Light are the protagonists of this story. You're all simply supporting character's in Wuk Lamat's story

A story that centers her people, her culture, and her family

And it's not even one culture. They don't portray Tuliyollal as this monolithic mish mash of every single native american culture

No, the lands of Tural are in fact comprised of multiple different people's and nations, each of them with their own customs and traditions which are informed by their history and the lands they live in

In fact learning about their cultures and partaking in their customs is the whole point of the Rite of Succession. It's all set up so that the next Dawnservant would be someone who understands and respects each of the peoples that comprise Tural

(I could, and probably will, write about what Dawntrail has to say about what makes a good ruler)

And our girl, Wuk Lamat, is shown to be the rightful heir because she really goes out of her way to understand each of the nations and show her appreciation for their customs

Putting her well above her Sharlyaboo brother Koana, The King of Unresolved Daddy Issues Zoral Ja, and whatever the fuck is going on with Bakool Ja Ja

(I joke, I love my two headed traumatized dumbass)

Tho I will admit that this does end up giving the tribes a somewhat "planet of the hats" vibe. Like their named NPCs are diverse and interesting, but you can just assume that most random NPCs of any given people are gonna act according to the stereotype

Which is unfortunate, but I have hopes that with the next few patches and the addition of Dawntrail's own Allied Society Quests, we'll get to see more to them

But that... is only up to lvl95 and the end of the Yok'Tural (southern Tural) segment

because then we get to Xak'Tural (northern Tural) and holy shit does it feel like they drop the ball there

Like they really COULDN'T keep themselves from making Shaaloani a fucking Wild West map

Instead of doing anything with the actual cultures and histories of Native North American people, they just do wild fucking west

Because there's ceruleum in them thar hills! And apparently Koana turned most of the region into Sharlyaboos too

So we get a bunch of Wild West frontier towns mixed with native american tribes and mud brick cities. We have trains and guns and a sheriff and a duel at high noon, but now everyone got native american names

At least there's one group off to the northern side of the map who seems to stick to tradition and live in harmony with nature, and that group is shown respect by the other people of the region

so we at the very least avoid the "cowboys vs indians" crap, but my god does that region just feel bad compared to everything else they had done so far

Then we get to the big twist: THE CYBERPUNK PORTION OF THE GAME

because yes, we go full fucking cyberpunk

so turns out that a whole segment of Xak'Tural got colonized by the kingdom of Alexandria, including the lands of the Shetona (Erenville's people)

And I feel like this is the most poignant section of the MSQ when it comes to colonialism

Because here we have Alexandria, an empire that has reached the limit of what it can do sustain itself on its own world, and so has decided to spread out and colonize others in order to gain resources

We see the Shetona and other natives of the region being separated from their families and kept in isolation from the rest of their people

And tho Queen Sphene is shown to be a kind and caring ruler who gives people a choice when it comes to joining the empire, WELL SHE'S STILL THE QUEEN OF A FUCKING EMPIRE

Like her form of kindness and just stagnant peace is put in stark contrast with Wuk Lamat's own love for her people and more proactive pursuit of happiness and harmony

(again with the "what makes a ruler theme")

Also the people that choose to be assimilated into the Alexandrian Empire? Yeah, they're doing so because Alexandria has advanced medical technology and you can only receive their aid if you're a citizen

Not only that, but you have to be a working citizen. We see later on a character being denied medical aid, because he lost his job, thanks to the King's decision and at no fault of his own

yeah this is cyberpunk, not just sci-fi

ALSO can we talk about how the technology used for that medical aid and the little gizmo they give you to signify you're now a citizen, will literally erase the memory of the people you lost

So the Turali who are assimilated into Alexandrian culture not only lose ties to their culture and their loved ones, but are not allowed to grieve their loss, because what they once had is slowly being erased

How their choices add up to survive on their own OR be assimilated

How this all takes place IN NORTH FUCKING AMERICA!

THE CYBERPUNK CITY IS LITERALLY SET IN THIS WORLD'S EQUIVALENT TO THE UNITED STATES

So yeah, I don't think is is accidental. I genuinely thing that they're making a point about the realities of imperialism and colonialism, as well as taking some shots at the US while they're at it

Of course this part is still centered around Wuk Lamat, and instead of having a moment of "the only ones who can stop the evil white europeans are the GOOD white europeans", we have Wuk Lamat be the one to save the day, defeat Sphene, and save her people from the colonizing empire

So I would like to argue that everything that happens from lvl97 onwards is them picking up the ball again and making a real point

buuuut that comes at the cost of us being unable to engage with the native peoples of Xak'Tural outside of the context of colonialism

Which genuinely fucking sucks, and I hope it will be remedied with the post-Dawntrail patches

As well as handling the whole shared land situation they ended up with and how this might end up in a Land Back sort of movement, and oh boy can they mess shit up royally there

So in conclusion FFXIV has had a messy relationship with colonialism and imperialist fantasies and tropes, but the devs seem to be making a concerted effort to undo their mistakes and show respect in their depictions of american natives

They still fuck up

boy do they

but they're at least trying, and I'd say Dawntrail so far has been quite well executed

so yeah, look forward to more insane rambles like this one I guess

[annebd]

have you ever written a thing and had no idea where it was gonna go because you didn’t actually have a plan and then you were somehow still surprised (but pleasantly) at where it ended up anyway? yeah, me too. this is super short, just a little slice-of-life domestic maxiel moment.

They’re at the farm in Perth, nowhere to be and nothing to do for ten full days before they have to head back to Milton Keynes for the start of testing. They spend the first night sitting on the back porch, sharing a frankly terrible delivery pizza and a bottle of Daniel’s shiraz- out of disposable paper cups because Daniel can’t be bothered to unearth his actual wine glasses and because Max always claims the taste is the same as in proper glass anyway. They go to bed early, too jet lagged to do anything more than share a kiss goodnight and cuddle together under the quilt that Daniel’s nonna had given him when he’d first moved to Italy- a small reminder of home. Nowadays, the quilt stays on the farm, a reminder that this, actually, is home.

In the morning, Daniel awakens to a streak of sunlight shining brightly across his face. The quilt is thrown haphazardly across the foot of the bed, kicked off during the night as the warmth of the Australian summer melted across them in sleep. He stretches big and yawns, scratching lightly at the peach fuzz on his lower belly that he’s finally allowing to grow back in. The giant antique clock on the wall across from the window (his mum had made him buy it- said he needed some kind of interior decoration in his place, and Buffalo Bills merch emblazoned with Josh Allen’s name didn’t count) tells him that it’s just after ten. He reaches out a hand: the other side of the bed feels cool- Max must have been up for a while already.

With a groan, and a refusal to acknowledge that hopping out of bed at 35 involves much more moaning and creaking knees than it did at 22, Daniel gets up and stumbles his way towards the living room. He follows the faint sound of Dutch cursing and an even fainter whiff of coffee. Max hates coffee- says it makes him gag- but whenever he’s up first, he makes Daniel a cup exactly the way he likes it, with the tiniest splash of creamer and an even tinier bit of sugar.

He rounds the corner to the living room and sees the source of the cursing. Max has set up his Playstation and is in the middle of a FIFA match.

“Honestly, Daniel, they’re terrible. Look at this,” Max says crossly, waving his hand at the TV in a gesture that Daniel takes to be an all encompassing indicator of terribleness. “How can they be so bad?”

He’s not even looking in Daniel’s direction; the sofa faces away from the passageway to the back of the house. It’s one of the things Daniel loves about him. Max doesn’t need any preamble to a conversation. He knows that if he starts, Daniel will simply catch up.

Daniel shrugs, climbs over the back of the sofa to plop comfortably next to Max. “Dunno, Maxy. Can’t all be rockstars like you.”

Max glances at him quickly, a small frown in his brow as he assesses in an instant whether he thinks Daniel is teasing him, warring with a smile at the inherent compliment anyway. “Yeah, well, of course it takes lots of practice. Maybe they are just not putting in the time.”

“Maybe so,” Daniel agrees. He leans over to grab the cup of coffee that Max had made for him and takes a sip- perfect as always. He sinks a bit lower into the couch, getting comfortable. “Any plans for the day? Other than kicking some randos' arses in FIFA?”

“I though that we could—” Max cuts himself off to interject a string of cursing in Dutch as his player onscreen clearly does something other than what he’d intended. He mashes at the controller furiously, and a moment later, Daniel sees the screen light up with a goal. Max nods, satisfied, and continues “maybe invite Isaac and Isabella to spend the day here. Always, you’re talking about wanting to take them out on the dirt bikes. We can do that together.”

Daniel nods. “Sounds good. I’ll give Michelle a call- maybe we can swing by and pick them up. Say hi to Mum and Dad on the way.”

Max is already absorbed back into his game, but when Daniel stands to go grab his phone (slightly less groaning as he stands from the couch, no less knee creaking), Max reaches out a quick hand to squeeze his thigh gently. “Good morning, by the way.”

Daniel smiles. “Good morning, baby,” he says, and leans over to peck Max lightly on the lips.

[milequaritchsslut]

Yandere Miguel

Summary: A peaceful dinner with your captor

Warnings: Kidnapping, fluff, hostage, yandere, Miguel being a sweetheart, chained up hands, slight Stockholm syndrome, malnutrition/malnourishment, forced starvation, talk of weight loss, mentions of blood, mentions of biting, mentions of bruising, mentions of marking, sadism (?),

‘What are you doing?’ You asked obviously annoyed with him, hands chained above you and to the wall as you glared up at him.

‘Don’t give me that attitude baby girl’ he cooed, his tone surprisingly warmer then usual. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek as he knelt down and began unlocking your chains.

You looked at him totally confused on the whole situation—he hadn’t come down in days. Let alone untying you and speaking in such a kind tone. It’s been 3 weeks since he had captured you and thrown you down here. You actually weren’t even sure how long—but that was your best guess.

‘We’re gonna have a nice dinner together mi amor’ he helped you to your feet, though your legs were wobbly and trembling from the lack of walking you did nowadays you maintained your posture. He looked at the marks and bruises you had on your legs and arms, all from him when he had to punish you.

‘Here baby’ he offered, as he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his torso—arms around his neck and began walking up the basement stairs.

You felt unusually calm, you still hated him—but you felt so protected and loved in his arms. You hadn’t eaten in awhile—and from that you’d lost a ton of weight, you were so small compared to him now. You felt like a child being held and coddled, but you liked it? You laid your head on his shoulder and sighed as he held you close to his chest.

‘I’m sorry I haven’t come down in a few days mami—I’ve been so busy. I missed you so much, I hope you know that. We can finally have a nice dinner together’ he says in a slightly sad tone, kissing your cheek as he walks to the kitchen.

As you listened to him, you felt slightly guilty from the attitude you gave him before. But you quickly brushed it aside as the realization that he literally kidnapped you came flooding back in. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his pity apology, did he seriously think that was an excuse??

‘Whatever’ you hissed, eyes narrowing as you looked at the interior of the kitchen. It was a nice home to say the least—he made a shit ton of money so you weren’t really surprised. The kitchen counter top was white and grey marble with brand new shiny appliances scattered nicely on it. The fridge was an electronic one—with a modern screen on the front. A shiny silver water machine indented on the right side of it, with over 5 different options for water.

He didn’t say much after that—he set you down on the kitchen table. There was a shiny white plate with golden lining around the edges. On top was a divine looking slab of steak—lush looking mashed potatoes and asparagus laid next to it. It looked absolutely delicious and you had to stop yourself from shoving it all down your throat. You were starving to say the least, it felt like your stomach was eating itself more and more by each passing day. You were completely malnourished and dehydrated. Your skin was ashy and dry, your knuckles were hard and scratchy. Your hair had become dry and gross—you had nothing to comb through it. Your clothes holes in them from the amount of times you’ve fought back and he’s put you right back into your place. Dried blood was running down your neck on both sides, coming from his bite marks—and a horrid smell emitting from your frail body.

The bones from your wrists were practically poking out from your skin—begging to be broken free from the flesh. Your weak hands laid on the table as your mouth drooled from the site in front of you. Hands trembling from your self restraint—cause you knew you’d get scolded if you ate before he told you to. He sat from across the table and watched your every move—grinning at your weak attempt to be a good girl from him. He found pleasure in making you wait for the one thing you really needed—so that’s just what he did, he locked onto your every movement for a few minutes until finally he spoke.

‘Go on and eat baby girl’

You snapped—shoving the food into your dry and deserted mouth. Hands rapidly picking up more and more until before you knew it—it was gone. You sat there confused—where had it all gone? Your eyes scanned the room for the rest of it, but came up empty handed. Confusion and desperation filled your mind and eyes, a feeling of helplessness igniting inside of you. Your gaze met your hands—food was covered in them. Mashed potatoes smeared along your knuckles and fingertips, pieces of asparagus shoved in between your finger nails. You finally caught on—it was you. You were the thief in this mystery, you must’ve blacked out while you ate. Now it was gone—your needy eyes slowly looked up from your plate and to your captor.

Miguel had a sly smirk plastered along his face—he had your right where he wanted you. You were helpless and needy—desperate for more. And he was the only one who could give that to you, and he knew you’d do just about anything for another plate. He gave you mock kind eyes as a fake concerned expression flew onto his face as he stared into your eyes.

‘Miguel…can I have more?’

Taglist: @jennieskimichi @addictiontowardstheinternet @rawegggohan @raaaaainn @horror-cassettes @adrunkskeletonsduck @nejirehh @222a1yssa @beiroviski @lana-4life @ladyfairenvale

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

I'm the kind of person that enjoys genderbends of characters and likes to change the names when I genderbend them (I'm a fake nby, I know 😔)

But! When changing the names, they have to fit the same general structure and vibe as the actual character's name or I get annoyed. If you got a Darron you can change it to Donna and if you change it to Delilah I'm gonna throw hands with you. (There are exceptions and this is on a case to case basis)

But. I can't with Stanford. I just can't. Read more to watch me have a breakdown.

Anyway so I was like "what would Stanford's genderbend name be? Here's some guidelines I have to follow: It has to start with s and have an f in it. It also has to be able to have a nickname starting with f. And preferably it has to be 2 syllables. And I was like "how hard could that be?"

First I came up with "Saffron" but there's not really a nickname for that. Next is "Sofia" which can have the nickname "Fia" or "Fifi" but it's 3 syllables. Then I was like okay "Saphire?" But that doesn't even have an f, and what's the nickname? Fire???

Okay so maybe Saffron with the nickname Fran. I can settle for that. Then. It hit me. I forgot one key rule. Whatever Stanfords name is has to be correlated with whatever Stanley's name is and preferably he can have a nickname with the front half so he can pretend to be Stanford for years without having to call himself Grunkle Ford.

So... the obvious choice for the name Stanley is Stacey with the nickname Stace... but now we've lost the similar names. Sally could work but I hate that and also what's the nickname? Sal? The kids are gonna call Saffron "Sal"?

Let's have Ford's name be Stefany and his nickname is Franny. Then we can have Stan's name be Stella and- nope no nickname there.

Okay. Fuck the f nickname rule. All we need is two s names that share the same first part and can have two separate nicknames. Maybe Samantha and Sammy except no because who's gonna call Ford "antha" that's not a nickname. Sabrina and Sabella. No. No nicknames

And now the names list I'm looking at ALREADY looks like it's giving me made up names that are just existing names mashed together like Shawnilyn and Shawnancy so you know what!? YOU KNOW WHAT???

Stanley's name is Stacey and I'm making up the name Stacefran. That's a name now. It works. I solved it.

Except, the fact that its "Stacefran's" name that is made up bothers me because I always assumed Ford came out first and Filbrick was like "We'll name this one Stanford!" All proud or psudo-proud. And then Stanley came out and he was like "oh uh. I don’t know. Stan...ley or something. Whatever." Because poor Stanley is cursed by the universe. No way in hell did Filbrick see a kid pop out and go "yes. I'll name you the very normal name, Stacefran. What a wonderful name"

So I still hate it. And nothing will ever fit 😭😭😭

[terresdebrume]

I've written a couple of scenes of Charles' having an emotional breakdown and Edwin comforting him, I felt is was time for the reverse. Set in the I'm down on my knees universe at like. Some point, IG.

Warning for mentions of racist behavior throughout and also implied ableism via the Paynes vs Edwin. Hurt comfort. Sorta.

Edwin's fists start mashing together the second his hands come off the steering wheel, which Charles knows very well is the the top one sign of a stress spiral. It's pretty much the default position for Edwin's hands whenever they go to a social thing he hasn't got the hang on yet, and the morning before all his business law exams. It feels wrong to see them like that now, sitting in front of a rustic looking restaurant where his parents are waiting for them.

"We can still leave you know," he tells Edwin. "Tell them I tested positive for COVID and you don't want to risk giving it to them or something."

Edwin doesn't quite laugh, but the corners of his mouth lift up, and the creak of his leather driving gloves subsides for a moment. He makes a face like when he's trying to figure out how to say something he's not sure how to handle. Charles, one hand on his still buckled seatbelt and the other on the door handle, waits him out. Eventually, Edwin speaks.

"I should have said earlier," he says, sounding for all the world like the words are taffy stuck in his teeth, "but my parents are sort of... Well. They have a certain idea of how the world should work and be divided—"

"Yeah, I figured," Charles says. He grins when Edwin blinks at him. "Everyone else, when we've got plans, you say shit like 'Oh, Charles is making curry tonight'—"

"I do not sound like that," Edwin protests, but Charles snorts.

"You sound exactly like that, you big toff," he says, grin widening despite himself.

Edwin rolls his eyes and calls him ridiculous, fists softening against one another. Grinning to the point his cheeks ache, Charles gives Edwin's knee a light knock with his knuckles. It makes Edwin click his tongue, but Charles doesn't lose his smile.

"My point is, with you're parents it's always like 'Charles is making dinner' and stuff. Like you're playing the pronouns game with food."

Charles suppresses a wince when. Edwin's eyes widen and his fists tighten together again, like tectonic plates gearing up for an earthquake. Of course Edwin was going to take it the wrong way. Charles should have bloody well known better.

"I'm sorry," Edwin says, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Charles shrugs. "I mean they know what I look like, right?"

"Yes!" Edwin promises, hands so tight together it looks like they're going to merge. "Of course. I made sure they couldn't pretend they'd misunderstood, too, I just—"

"Then I'm fine," Charles says, making sure his smile looks easier than it feels. "I was friends with racist gits for years, I can handle your parents for an hour."

Plus, they'll be in public. What are the Paynes gonna do, try to make him join the staff? Calling him the P slur over dessert? They might think it but Charles suspects they're too interested in seeming proper to be that crassly racist where they can be heard. Probably they'll just make some noise about certain types of people and NHS fraud and jobs being stolen away from the homeless people they have no intention to help. Maybe something about Islam—there people tend to assume Charles is a Muslim a lot. He chalks it up to two birds one stone mentality, and the appeal of unlocking two rants over a single guy.

"Alright," Edwin says, looking relieved but not guilt free yet. "But if you wish to leave early, please pretend you just remembered a favour you promised Jenny, will you? I will drive us back immediately."

"Sure, I'll do that," Charles promises. He genuinely doesn't think it'll be that bad, but if he's wrong he'll be glad have the out anyway.

Reassured, Edwin takes a deep breath, and nods, and in they go. Everything is very posh in that very 'bling is for lesser people' kind of way. The menu predictably shows no prices. Edwin's parents make the usual thinly veiled remarks about Charles and Indians and brown people in general, and it's not the most comfortable but Charles could deal with it if not for the Issue.

It starts when they approach the table, Edwin's parents standing next to it with spines so straight Charles half worries he's hunched down again. Edwin places his hands in his mother's to kiss the air around each of her cheek, but then when he goes to press his fists together again, she takes his wrists and pulls his hands apart. Charles's entire back goes rigid at the sight, but he manages to push it aside and smile as he extends a hand for Mrs. Payne to shake. He said he'd do his best to make the dinner a success, and he meant it.

They sit down, Edwin and Charles on one side of the rectangular table, Edwin's parents on the other. Edwin's hands are very flat on the white tablecloth, gloves pulled away and fingers carefully aligned together. They stay there while Edwin answers increasingly invasive questions about his studies and his life, but they drift together again when the Paynes' attention turns to Charles.

"Stop that," Mr. Payne says with a stern look, cutting himself off in the middle of a sanctimonious explanation of why Charles is not being ambitious enough in life.

It's such a complete contrast to the polite, vaguely affable air he took one when speaking to Charles, and he goes back to it so quickly, Charles barely has time to react. The only thing he can think of is to press his knee against Edwin's in comfort. He should have thought of a signal for Edwin, too. Or at least asked if he wanted one.

The entree's arrival provokes some surprised praise over how their brown waiter is surprisingly well trained and articulate, and Charles takes it in stride. They're not actually saying anything to the waiter, and when they do speak he's out of earshot. He's had worse, and Edwin doesn't quite seem to be ready to throw the towel in, so he'll stick it out a bit longer. Even if Edwin's going pinker and pinker with every minute that passes.

They're about halfway through their main dishes and another rant from Mr. Payne—augmented by his wife's approving noise and not much else, Edwin having fallen silent somewhere around the time his gaspacho touched the table. Charles hates to see him like this: Edwin has always had a big personality, a larger than average presence in any room. He should be leading the conversation, or at least insisting on being heard through it, not looking down at the tablecloth with his mouth shut.

Charles is halfway through opening his mouth to pretend Jenny just texted him about plumbing issues, when Edwin's dad speaks again. He has the kind of articulation they promote on the BBC, yet Charles doesn't register any of what he says, only the fact that Edwin's fists fly together without him even noticing, and then Mr. Payne's hand darts from the other side of the table to slap Edwin's closed hands.

Now, see, the thing about Charles, is he's got excellent reflexes. Between dodging his dad's many and varied projectiles over the years, a decade of cricket, and countless hours of playing shooting games, he's pretty much primed for it. Add to that the fact that he's been getting angrier and angrier on Edwin's behalf throughout the meal, and really Charles doesn't think he can be blamed for dropping his knife, reaching out, and slapping Mr. Payne's hands.

"How dare you?" The man hisses in the deadly silence that falls over the room after the exchange.

The whole restaurant seems to hold its breath, the way Charles and mum used to do whenever dad stopped and asked 'What did you just say?'. In the corner of Charles' vision, Edwin's mouth hangs partially open in shock even as Charles hisses:

"How dare you?"

"The way I discipline my son," Mr. Payne starts, and Charles snarls.

"Your son is twenty-five," he says raising his voice on purpose. "You don't get to treat him like a bloody toddler."

"You little—" Payne senior starts, but before Edwin even has the time to react to his dangerous tone, Charles stands up with a loud scrape of his chair against the floor.

"And another thing," he says, loudly speaking over the fast purpling man in front of him, "there's nothing wrong with Edwin. That thing with the hand? You're making a mountain out of a bloody molehill! And if you didn't spend so much time worrying about it, maybe you'd realize Edwin is really bloody mint, actually, and if you can't appreciate him, then I don't see why we should bother staying here at all." Charles pushes his chair back against the table with another loud scrape, and turns to Edwin. "Come on, let's go."

Edwin's parents protest, mildly at first and then more loudly, but Charles doesn't care. He's too furious at them, at the way they filled their son with a sort of guilty shame Charles had never seen until the, at the way they somehow managed to stop him from even wanting to answer.

He waits until Edwin stands up, and then he takes hold of Edwin's wrist and drags the both of them outside. Edwin has to tug hard on his arm to remind him they used a car to come in, actually, and they can't leave it there. He sounds—well he sounds strained, is what he does. The sort of voice that means there's an emotion somewhere he's not letting out, and this time Charles knows exactly where it's going.

"I'm so sorry," he says, "I ruined dinner!"

"Oh," Charles, Edwin sighs.

His eyes are wide and wet and his grin ks kind of wobbly, but he steps up and engulfs Charles in hug anyway, hands tightly clasped around Charles waist. Charles responds in kind, putting as much love as he can into the embrace, into the pressure of his arms around Edwin.

"Thank you," Edwin mumbles against Charles' neck. "No one ever stood up for me line that."

"They bloody well should have," Charles says, gentling his tone when he realizes something warm dripping down his neck.

Edwin, too busy controlling his crying the best he can, doesn't answer, but it doesn't matter. Charles holds him tight until he's done crying anyway.

[petitemistletoe]

The Concert

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst, dom! James x Regulus, some hate fucking sort of? enjoy this!

Word Count: 5K+

A/N: This is a part 2 to Hate, hope you all enjoy it :)

“I have such a good idea!” You said with a large grin on your face as you dropped yourself down at the table in between Marlene and Remus. 

“Where did you come from?” Sirius asked, turning fully around to look behind him. 

“Stayed to help Binns after history,” you grinned, helping yourself to a large piece of the meaty pie that was on the table for dinner.

“What’s your idea?” Lily asked, sensing the excitement radiating off you.

“I heard from Yaz who heard from Dorcus who heard from Daniel who heard from Michael who heard from his cousin who lives in Soho that Queen is doing a pub concert in London on Friday and we have to go!” You beamed. 

“I don’t care for Queen.” Remus shrugged.

“The Queen sings?” Marlene cocked an eyebrow. 

“No! The band Queen! Freddy Mercury, Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon. Come on! They’re the biggest band in the world right now! How can you guys not want to go?” You were severely displeased with your friends’s lack of enthusiasm. 

“Hey! I know I would love to hear the Queen perform. I’ve never been to a muggle concert before.” James said, getting up from his place across the table and squeezing himself between you and Sirius so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders. 

“It’s just Queen, Prongs, and your opinion doesn’t count you would do anything to keep your girlfriend happy.” Remus rolled his eyes as he looked at you and James comfortably seated together. 

“Uh, Remus? She’s not the only one who would be happy to see Queen.” Lily said with a grin, pointing her fork at Sirius. Remus turned to look at Sirius who was red faced with excitement and had somehow transfigured his sweater into a Queen t-shirt.

“Oh no,” Remus sighed, “don’t tell me you’re a Queen fan? Padfoot! What happened to taste?”

“I don’t know why you don’t like them, Moony. They’re amazing and you’re a snob. Also I’m excited for us to listen to a great band, get pissed, and snog uncontrollably.” Sirius crossed his arms and glowered at Remus. 

“I don’t want to go if all you’re gonna do is snog,” Lily sighed. 

“Yeah! I don’t want to watch the Potters and the Lupins snog all night. I’m out,” Marlene said, tossing her napkin on the table and crossing her arms across her chest in a pout. 

“I’ll come if I can bring Roman. We’re supposed to go on a date but I’ve been wanting a dastardly little rendez-vous in a pub bathroom.” Mary shrugged, standing from the table and making her way over to the Hufflepuff table.

“Hold on, what makes you think I would take James’s last name?” You asked. 

“Yeah! What if Moony and I wanted to hyphenate?” Sirius protested. Before Remus could rebut, Yasmine made her way over to the table and grinned at Marlene.

“Marls are you going to the Queen concert in London? I’d love to see you there.” She smiled at Marlene again who could only offer a goofy wave and a nod in return, her eyes trained on Yaz’s ass as she walked out of the great hall. 

“Okay so what is the official headcount for the concert then? Who’s coming?” James asked, surveilling the group.

“We’re going,” Sirius said quickly, sending Remus a look. Remus rolled his eyes and nodded. 

“I’ll come!” Peter said, his mouth still full of mashed potatoes.

“Roman and I will be there,” Mary said with a nod as she walked past the table, arm in arm with Roman. 

“Marlene, you coming?” You asked. Marlene still had a dumbstruck look on her face as her fingers ghosted over her shoulder where Yaz had rested her hand.

“What about you Evans?” James asked, looking at the final member of the group who had yet to respond

“No! I’ll be the,” Lily took a second to count the people in the group, “ninth wheel. I’d rather stay back and do almost anything else.”

“Peter will be alone. You can go with him,” Sirius offered but to everyone’s surprise Peter shook his head and squeaked, 

“I’ll be going with Dorcas.”

Lily looked like she wanted to die. You cleared your throat and sent a look Lily’s way.

“Lily, why don’t you bring Severus?” You offered her a gentle smile and you slapped one hand against James’ mouth and the other against Sirius’. You could feel both of their mouths moving against your hands but you weren’t letting go any time soon. You forgot, however, that there was another person in the group who despised Snape just as much as James and Sirius and you were out of hands. 

“Why the hell would we want Snape at a concert that I don’t even want to go to?” Remus said with a look of disgust. 

“Yeah!” Sirius said after biting your hand. You snatched your hand back and wiped it on Sirius’s shirt with a scowl, “That little snake will probably bring my brother too just to piss me off.”

“You think Regulus will be there?” James asked. You and James hadn’t really spoken about your incident with Regulus a few months ago where Regulus had watched you and James fuck. You tried to bring it up a few times but James shut it down, though you could’ve sworn you heard James murmur ‘Regulus’ under his breath a few times during sex. Regulus had been avoiding you and the Marauders like the plague since. 

“Regulus would never be caught somewhere with that many muggles.” Remus shook his head. 

“Lily is our friend so we have to baseline tolerate her friends. Lily why don’t you ask Severus if he’d like to come.” You said. Lily shook her head and sighed,

“I should stay home.”

“Lily you love Queen. Either come with us on your own or ask Severus.” You placed your hand over Lily’s and she made a face, 

“Your hand is wet.” 

“Sirius.” You rolled your eyes. Your other hand was still over James’s mouth and you finally looked at him and he smiled at you with his lust blown eyes. You moved your hand down so it was on James’ tie and pulled him up. 

“We’re going now,” you said, looking at the group, “I’ll get us twelve tickets. We’ll talk more at breakfast tomorrow.”

“Walk him like a dog!” Sirius called after you both. You led James to the prefects bathroom and started undressing. James fell back into the steamy, bubbling baths and you set yourself down on top of him. He was kissing up your neck as you seated yourself on James’s cock. 

James moaned into your open mouth as he helped move you, guide you up and down on his cock. 

“God, I love you so much baby,” James was babbling, the way he usually did when he was close. He was moving you faster and faster and he choked out a desperate “don’t stop!” His hand was fisted in your hair and he stumbled out a “Regulus,” before he came. He took several deep breaths, resting his forehead on yours and smiling. 

“I think we need to talk about something, James.” You said, getting off him and sitting next to him. 

“Alright? What’s up?”

“Have you realized that since the incident with Regulus-”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” 

“I know. But I think we need to. Every time we’ve had sex in the last two months you’ve moaned Regulus’s name. I think you want him James.” You said. You could practically see the gears turning in James’ brain.

“I…this is really confusing.” James shook his head. 

“You don’t need to do anything, James. Just think about what you want.”

“I want you!”

“I know you do. But you can want more than one thing.” You said with a small smile. You and James did not discuss it further.

Finally, Friday was upon you all and you were more than excited to see Queen. You had been ready for hours and you were sitting up in the marauder’s dorm watching the boys get ready. Remus was pouting as he sat on his bed wearing a normal pair of jeans, sweater, and tennis shoes. Sirius, on the other hand, was going all out. He was wearing a tight pair of trousers and a leather jacket with no shirt underneath. He was currently lining his eyes with a dark eyeliner and snapping at Remus, 

“Moony so help me god if you don’t change I’m going to hit you.”

“I don’t even want to go!” Remus protested. You sat down on the bed next to Remus and laid your head on his shoulder, 

“Remus. Just change so you can shut Sirius up.” 

“Fine!” Remus got up and started rifling through his trunk.

“Where’s my boyfriend?” You asked, looking around the dorm. Peter was looking between two graphic tees that his sister must have sent. One was for the Beatles and one was for Bowie.

“Which one do I wear?” Peter asked, obviously bewildered. 

“Bowie.” You nodded.

“I’m here!” James said, walking out of the bathroom. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a smart looking sweater, and a leather jacket. He was also walking uncomfortably, presumably finally breaking in the pair of doc Martens that you had bought him for Christmas a year back. 

“You look good,” you said with a smile. 

“So do you,” James winked at you. You were dressed how you assumed most girls at the concert would be, a Queen shirt that Mary had cut up for you, a leather skirt, and your own doc Martens. 

Remus had finally changed and was now in a stiff pair of jeans, a thin long sleeve t shirt and a leather jacket. You had never seen so many wizards in leather. There was a knock at the door and you knew it could only be the other girls, finally ready. You let them in and Mary ran immediately to Sirius, helping him finish his eyeliner. Mary was dressed like you, with a cut up t shirt and a pleated mini skirt. 

“Mary, is that your skirt from third year?” You asked. 

“Yes! I needed a skirt I could cut shorter and Marlene knew a spell to expand the waistline!” Mary beamed. Marlene and Lily were dressed a little more conservatively. Lily was wearing a v-neck sweater and a pair of jeans and was twisting her ring on her finger nervously. Marlene was wearing leather pants and a tight top that rode up at times to show off her toned stomach. Marlene reached up to grab a flask that was sitting on a high shelf and Peter gasped and said,

“Marlene! Is that belly button piercing?” 

Marlene blushed bright red and immediately tried to pull her shirt down. 

“Ah ah! Too late McKinnon!” James said and laughed. 

“How did I not notice that before? Did you guys see that?” Lily said, turning and looking at you and Mary, who both shook your heads. 

“Yaz did it over the break,” Marlene mumbled, her face staying that same unnatural shade of red. 

“So Lily,” you could sense that Marlene was getting uncomfortable so you changed the subject, “is Severus coming?”

“Ah, sort of,” Lily shrugged, “he’s going with a few other Slytherins. Said he’ll see me there.” 

“Who are the other Slytherins, Evans?” Sirius asked, his eyes even more piercing now against the thick black eyeliner. 

“I think Barty and Regulus.” Lily sighed. 

“Oh my god! My damn brother! Get over here Moony! You’re wearing eyeliner.” Sirius commanded. 

“What? No!” Remus protested. 

“If Regulus is going to be there I need to make him as angry as possible. Seeing my boyfriend at a concert with thick eyeliner will do it.” Sirius snapped. 

“Just let him do it, Remus. He’ll poke out your eye before he backs down.” James said with a head shake. So twenty minutes later, Remus’s eyes were thickly lined and you all were on your way to Hogsmeade to apparate into London. You and James apparated first, since Yaz had left the tickets at will call for you and as a half-blood you were one of the few in the group who were familiar with the muggle world. 

“Hiya,” you greeted the man at will call, “picking up tickets. They were left by Yasmine Patel.”

“What’s the name on them?” The man asked. You gave the man your first and last name and he shook his head, “Sorry. I don’t have them under that name.”

“What!” You looked at James a little panicked. 

“Is it under Potter?” James tried. 

“Yep. Enjoy the show.” The man handed you the tickets. 

“Why would Yaz leave them under your name? She told me about the tickets.” You said, taking your ticket from James as you waited for the others to arrive. 

“Look again at the name on them,” James chuckled. He handed you the sticky note that was stuck on the tickets. Written there was your first name but instead of your last name there was Potter.

“Oh she’s hilarious.” You said with an eyeroll, crumpling up the sticky note. The rest of the group made their way over and took their tickets. 

“What’s that in your hand?” Sirius asked you as you made your way into the pub. It was pretty crowded but your large group was able to spread itself over a few tables comfortably. Marlene ran off almost immediately to see Yasmine, Mary and Roman had disappeared, and you could see Peter and Dorcas chatting with a few Hufflepuffs. Seated at the table was just you and James, Remus and Sirius, and Lily. Lily offered to grab a round of drinks first, but you knew was looking around for Severus. It didn’t seem like any of the Slytherins had made their way to the pub yet. 

“Oh, nothing. Look what Yaz left the tickets under at will call.” You handed Sirius the crumpled paper against your better judgement. Sirius immediately started laughing and said,

“Mrs. Potter! Thank you so much for arranging this visit!”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Lupin.” You teased back. Lily returned with a tray of drinks for you all as you heard a man tap a few times on the microphone. 

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming to our pub. All shots of well liquor are half off for the rest of the night. Without further ado, Queen.” The man stood back to let the band run on stage. Sirius started screaming at the top of his lungs and grabbed Remus by the hand, running to the stage. 

It was only 11:30 when Queen left the stage and everyone had had a great time, even Remus who nodded his head a few times during Get Down, Make Love. You all agreed to stay and continue drinking as a smaller local band took the stage to play some background music for the pub. 

Remus and Sirius disappeared at one point in the evening and they returned to the table with Sirius's eye makeup smudged, Sirius was wiping his mouth crudely with the back of his hand, and Remus had a dumb little grin. Sirius took his seat back at the table as Remus disappeared off.

“Did Severus not come, Lily?” You asked. You were secretly a little upset that you hadn’t run into Regulus again. 

“No, I don’t think so.” Lily said, a little crestfallen. 

“Don’t worry,” Remus said, holding a tray of shots that he got from the bar for you all, “Snape, Reg, and Barty all have a table near the bar. Don’t worry, Lily, they’re as enchanting as ever.” 

“Oh!” Lily shot up and ran over to the table. 

“If they come over here, I swear.” Sirius said, grabbing his and Lily’s shots off the table. 

“You think Regulus will come over here?” James asked. You could detect the glimmer of hope in his voice. 

“Why?” Sirius teased, “Got a crush? Better watch out Mrs. Potter.” 

“So,” James said hastily, “are we going to take this shot or what?”

“Sooner is better than later,” Remus said, nodding his head over to the group of Slytherins that were following Lily back over to your table. You all clinked the glasses together and took the shot, chasing it with sips of your soda, or in Sirius’s case chasing it with Lily’s shot. 

“Look who’s here!” Lily said with a nervous smile. Snape was glowering at the group as was Barty. Regulus was only glaring at you. 

“Reg,” Sirius said coldly. 

“Sirius. You look like Bellatrix.” Regulus said, He hadn’t meant it to be funny but you all burst out laughing.

“You do!” Remus said between gasps for air. 

“I’m going to go buy,” Sirius took a minute to count, “eight shots for myself.” 

“Don’t be like that, Black!” Barty called after Sirius as he took a seat next to Remus at the table. The energy was a little uncomfortable at first but you quickly learned that the Slytherins had no experience in holding muggle liquor and they were very, very drunk. But, you all were very drunk to the point were words were being slurred. 

“I can get the next round,” you said, standing up and immediately stumbling. Regulus reached out to steady you. 

“Thanks Mrs. Potter!” Remus called. 

“I’ll help,” Regulus said, following you to the bar. 

“Thanks Reg. You know, you’re not so bad.” You said with a giggle, reaching up to ruffle Regulus’s hair. 

“I hate you,” Regulus said. He had been chuckling so you chuckled back but his face became stony as he looked at you again, “I hate you so much. So much. It eats away at me. It makes my stomach hurt. Every time I see you I think about how much I want you dead.” 

“Regulus,” you breathed in sharply and wrapped your fingers around the wand that was stuck in the waistband of your pants. You didn’t want to think about the consequences of using magic in front of a giant group of muggles but if Regulus really did mean you harm, the consequences of not using magic would be much worse. 

“Everything okay over here?” James asked, his hand on your lower back. 

“Fine,” you said, your heart still hammering inside your chest, “I’m going to get some air.” You walked out the back area of the bar where a few people were out there smoking cigarettes and talking on the payphone. There was a couple that were furiously making out and looked like they were near the point of stripping layers. You looked a little closer and saw it was Mary and Roman, unsurprisingly. You leaned back against the wall and fished a cigarette from your pocket and started patting up and down your pants for your lighter. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, looking around to see if anyone around looked kind enough to lend their lighter. The scarce few smokers didn’t seem very friendly and more and more people were leaving the creepy back area by the minute. 

“Need a light?” you heard a voice ask. You looked up gratefully but immediately drew your wand when you saw that it was Regulus. He was holding out a lighter but you refused, pointing your wand directly in his face.

“Get away from me, Regulus.”

“You didn’t let me explain,” Regulus took a step towards you but you snapped, 

“Don’t come closer.” 

“Okay,” Regulus said, his hands up. “I hate you because I’m so jealous. I’m so jealous of you and James.”

“Me and James?” You said, lowering your wand slightly. 

“I just,” Regulus pressed his fingers to his temples, “I haven’t been able to think since that night in the history classroom.”

“Oh,” your heart was thudding in your chest but for a different reason now. James made his way outside and said,

“What’s going on?” He looked between you and Regulus and saw your wand drawn and he stood in front of you, drawing his own wand, “What did you do, Regulus?”

“James.” You finally lowered your wand and put your hand on James’ arm. “He wants you.”

“What?” James looked at you like you were insane. 

“He wants you.” You repeated. James looked back and saw Regulus’s expression. It was odd, Regulus had a look of yearning and desire and a it was a little pathetic but you thought it was also kind of attractive. And it was certainly having a similar effect on James. His brown eyes were lust blown and he was breathing heavier than usual. He lowered his wand and looked at Regulus, 

“Is that true?”

“Yes,” Regulus nodded. Before you could discuss anything further, Sirius stumbled out, laughing drunkenly. 

“Hey, so I,” he paused as he took stock of the situation, “everything okay?”

“Fine.” You said quickly. 

“Anyway. Peter threw up everywhere so they’re kicking us out of the pub. You all ready to apparate back?” 

You all apparated back to Hogsmeade. There was an odd energy between you, James, and Regulus but everyone else seemed to be too drunk to notice. Sirius was practically hanging on you with his arm heavy over your shoulders. You had your arm around Sirius’ waist and you were using all your strength to keep him upright as he spouted his drunken nonsense. 

“Oh Mrs. Potter you’re so good to me.” Sirius giggled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“Oh Mr. Lupin I wish you would walk on your own.” You responded. You saw in your peripheral vision that Regulus made a face when Sirius called you ‘Mrs. Potter’. 

“I think I can get him upstairs,” Remus said, pulling Sirius’ arm over his own shoulders and heading upstairs towards the Gryffindor dorms, Peter trailing behind them. Barty and Snape made their back downstairs towards the Slytherin dorms and you, James, and Regulus were left alone in the corridor. 

“We should talk,” James said. 

“Let’s get out of the corridor before we get a detention.” You said. James nodded and pulled out the marauders map.

“Looks like the charms classroom is open.” James grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the charms classroom. You stretched your own hand out to Regulus but he shook his head and followed a few paces behind. 

“What did you look at?” Regulus asked, looking over at the map that James was pushing back into his pocket. 

“Just a map,” James said quickly. You made it to the charms classroom and you sat on top of one of the tables and just watched James and Regulus. 

Regulus was nervous, you could practically hear his heavy heartbeat. James, curiously, did not seem very nervous. He was looking at Regulus with a calm and even expression.

“What did you say to my girlfriend?” He asked. 

“What?” Regulus was gasping for breath. He looked uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of James’ dark eyes. 

“You must have said something to her to make her draw her wand at the bar,” James seemed completely calm but you could see that his knuckles were white as he tightly gripped the edge of a desk. 

“I, I…” Regulus was just gaping and struggling to form thoughts. 

“He told me he hated me.” You said. 

“That’s unacceptable,” James shook his head. “Take your shirt off.” He said it so suddenly and which such force that you had your fingers on the hem of your own shirt before you realized that James was talking to Regulus, not to you. Regulus tore his shirt off and you took a moment to appreciate his delicate, blemishless skin. His skin was so fair you could almost see every single blue vein underneath. Regulus looked back up at you before looking back at James, waiting for the next command. 

“Take your panties off,” James said to you this time. You obeyed, pulling the red panties off and holding them in your hand. James walked over to you and took them in his own hands. He held them up to his nose and sniffed before focusing his attention back to Regulus.

“She smells good, Regulus. So good.” 

“Can I,” Regulus wet his lips and cleared his throat, “Can I taste?”

“On your knees.” James nodded and Regulus dropped to his knees. James walked over to you and stuck two of his fingers deep inside you. You gasped and grasped James’ wrist in surprise. He didn’t keep his fingers inside you for long and he took them out almost as quickly as they were in. He walked over and held his outstretched fingers in front of Regulus’ lips. Regulus wrapped his lips around James’ fingers and sucked like his life depended on it. James grabbed Regulus’ jaw roughly and pushed his fingers down deeper into Regulus’ mouth. Regulus took them well at first but James pushed his fingers farther and Regulus began to gag and his eyes were starting to water but he showed no other signs on resistance. 

“Good,” James said, a little breathless, as he removed his fingers. Regulus had a little bit of spit rolling down his chin as he kept his eyes trained on James. You felt soaking wet at the whole display and you shut your legs and started rubbing them together, trying to find some friction. Regulus’ eyes shot over to you then back to James. James then looked over at you. 

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said, walking over to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve been neglecting you.” He sunk down his knees and carefully parted your legs. He sent a look back at Regulus before diving into your pussy. His tongue entered and exited you quickly as his nose bumped up against your clit. Your fingers reached for his hair and you locked eyes with Regulus. Regulus was studying you like a painting as you moaned and bucked against James’ face. James added his fingers and pushed his mouth up to your clit and you were done for, panting and moaning until you came. James came back up and kissed you, his hand in your hair this time. He broke away and rested his forehead on yours, just staring at you. He stretched his arm out behind him and snapped his fingers at Regulus. 

“Come here.” He said, without even looking over at him. Regulus scampered over and sat on his knees again, looking up at James. 

“What do you want?” James asked Regulus, finally turning away from you. 

“You,” Regulus responded, his eyes big and starry. 

“Just me?”

“Just you.”

“Well you can’t have just me,” James said, gesturing to you, “we’re sort of a package deal.”

“I don’t want her,” Regulus pouted. 

“Hey!” James slapped Regulus across the face, ”watch your mouth.” 

“If it means I can have you, I’ll have her too,” Regulus said, swallowing against the lump in his throat. You felt awkward, uncomfortable, like you were intruding on a very private moment between James and Regulus. 

“It’s not entirely dependent on your terms,” James exhaled through his nose.

“No, no! I can be good. So good I swear,” Regulus said, sticking two of his own fingers in his mouth to wet them before sticking them inside you. You gasped and looked rapidly between James and Regulus. “I’ll be so good!” Regulus repeated, using his free hand to pull James pants down and spitting in his free hand before stroking James. 

Regulus was very talented with his hands, as evidenced by yours and James’ simultaneous moans. Regulus made you cum quickly and he pulled his fingers out of you to focus his attention on James. You got up off the table and joined Regulus, taking the tip of James’ cock into your mouth and kitten licking it. James was looking at you both, beneath him, with lust blown eyes. You outstretched your hand and gently pushed Regulus’ mouth towards James’ cock. Regulus took James into his mouth and you could hear him control his breathing as he took James as much as could. James was rougher with Regulus then he was with you and you could tell Regulus was trying to control his gag reflex but James was borderline fucking Regulus’ face. 

“James,” you said softly, putting your hand on James’ stomach to slow him, “be gentle.” James slowed his movements and let Regulus pull off and take a gasping breath. 

“I’m sorry,” James panted, “your mouth just felt so fucking good oh my god.” James ran a hand through his hair. 

“Don’t be.” Regulus said, “It was hot.” 

You were overcome for a moment and you pulled Regulus in and kissed him. Regulus was shocked at first but he kissed you back. It was sweet and gentle, lots of lips and tongue and soft breathy moans. You broke away and you pulled James down to your level. You gently pushed Regulus and James closer together until James finally crossed the distance and kissed Regulus. This was rougher, harder. More teeth and light biting and desperate moans. Regulus and James pulled away and James said, 

“I want to try something.”

“Anything for you,” Regulus responded. James positioned Regulus so he was above you and Regulus pushed into you. Regulus’ body was a contrast of yours. His sharp contours against your soft ones. James watched as Regulus fucked you. Then, James pushed himself into Regulus. Regulus released a strangled moan and practically collapsed on top of you, his face in your neck so you could hear his moans. You locked eyes with James and James leaned over Regulus’ body to kiss you. 

Regulus came first, inside you, an action that you would think about later. You came shortly after still around Regulus’s cock and you were far overstimulated but Regulus couldn’t pull out of you as James was still chasing his own orgasm. James finally came, pulling out Regulus quickly and cumming all over Regulus’ back. Regulus pulled out of you and you all just laid in the charms classroom for a few minutes, breathing and savoring the silence. 

“Sirius is going to be so mad when he finds out about this,” you said, chuckling at the shocked expression of the two men in front of you. 

Taglist: @skyesayshi

[lethalchiralium]

Imagine It | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: i have an itch i need to scratch and that is simon being happy. thanks

warnings: mentions of babies, mentions of simon’s kids winnie and mellie, mentions of simon’s past a little

summary: It was just a nice afternoon, your husband’s brothers in arms trying to name your imaginary baby for you.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT

“Rhia?”

“Write it down.” You answered, wiping baby food off of your finger onto a paper towel. Mellie giggled in her high chair, watching you as you brought Simon the little glass jar of mashed bananas.

Soap scribbled the name down on the piece of paper, sitting next to Winnie at the dinner table. The little girl was drawing on Gaz’s arm with a Sharpie, you just didn’t have the heart to tell him that.

“I like Ava.” Gaz piped up, looking up from his crossword puzzle. Soap looked to his friend then to you, you shook your head.

“Had an Ava in middle school who stole my hair tie and cut it into pieces, and kept doing it until junior year of high school.” You moved back to the fridge, opening it and looking into it. “We don’t have that much food, boys.”

“Ye kept a grudge this long?”

You looked over the fridge door at Soap, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sort of. My brother handled it by getting her expelled.” You closed the fridge, walking back towards your dinner table and pulling a chair from it. You settled yourself beside Simon as he fed Mellie her mushed bananas, her little head trying to get a peak at Price at the head of the table. But, of course, he was completely disguised by the newspaper he held up, just like a grandfather. “More suggestions?”

Soap looked down at the list of names he had printed and brought, shoving the paper past Winnie and to Gaz, the man put down his pencil and took the packet in his hand while giving the Scot a side-eye.

“Just going to roll them off.”

You looked to Simon, the unmasked man glanced at you with a nervous glare. You looked to your left and spoke gently, “Make sure they’re not stupid ones. We’ll say yes or no.”

“Lila.”

“No.”

“Penelope.”

“No.”

“We’re talkin’ to yer wife, buddy.” Soap commented, Ghost had rejected the names while you just smiled at your husband. His eyes were still on his daughter, the little baby’s gaze now on her father.

“We’re not even having a baby anytime soon.” The Lieutenant commented, you nodded.

Soap shrugged, Gaz scoffed. “We get to name the next one - this is a meeting, for your information.” The Brit looked down at Winnie, she was still focused on whatever she was drawing on his arm.

“Oh, so you lot get to name my baby?” You laughed a little. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, Mellie’s my godbaby!” Soap whined. “Gaz’s gotta have one too!”

“He’s right, I’ve got to have a godchild too.” Gaz declared, Winnie switched markers from black to blue, beginning to color in some of her drawings. “This one’s Price’s.”

“I’m not popping out kids for each of you to have if we both die.” Your voice was loud and declarative, Soap and Gaz shut their mouths. “What if these are the only two we have? You gonna go to court and get joint custody?”

“Leave the lady alone, muppets.” Price’s voice echoed through the kitchen, he flipped the page in his newspaper.

Soap turned to Gaz, a mischievous smile on his face. “We shuid git married sae we have joint custody.”

You burst out laughing, hand flying to your mouth as Gaz squawked like a bird. Simon glanced at you before staring at Soap, who was cackling and saying , “Wh-What?! ’m right!”

“They’ll be adults before I die anyway.” Your husband commented, before turning back to Mellie - her little hand was reaching for the spoonful of banana he had in his hand. He moved the spoon towards her hand, her fingers curled around the plastic as her father commented, “Last time I checked, my girls’ godfather is Price.”

“They’ll all raise ‘em together anyway,” You then looked back to Gaz and Soap. “Won’t you, boys?”

“Yes ma’am.” Both soldiers nodded, now looking away and interested in Winnie’s art.

Soap began to chuckle as he grabbed her black marker. “Ye'r gonnae hae her art oan yer arm forever, buddy.” He held up the Sharpie in Gaz’s face, whose face paled. He looked down at the marker she was coloring her drawings on his arm in, seeing that it was washable before staring at you.

“You gave her the marker!”

You shrugged, nudging your foot on Simon’s calf. He glanced at you before he took the spoon away from your baby, she made a noise of annoyance and tried to reach for it again. The eight month old let out a whine, tears bubbling up in her eyes but he was quick to hand her the spoonful of banana again. Mellie giggled, taking the spoon from his hand as he said, “Thank you.”

“You gotta name for ‘em, Price?” Soap asked, yanking his list of names from Gaz and grabbing the Sharpie.

Price hummed from behind his newspaper. “Yeah, my mum’s name. Used to be a volunteer at the women’s shelter, used to help troubled kids.” He flipped the page. “Her name was Lyra.”

Your eyes shot to Simon, who looked like a fish out of water for just a moment. His eyes narrowed just a little as he went to wipe away some food from Mellie’s cheek with a wipe. The baby babbled a little, trying to grab his hand and chew on it.

You saw Price’s eyes over the newspaper, the little crinkle of eyebrows told you all you needed.

Simon knew Price’s mom from when he was a kid, at the woman’s shelter Simon’s mom went to several times. He must have been one of those ‘troubled teens’. Your hand went to Simon’s knee, giving it a squeeze before looking back at Price, who had disappeared behind his newspaper again.

“Mumma,” Winnie spoke from beside Gaz, looking over to you.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Can I color on Uncle Soap?” Her hazel eyes were big, she looked as if she was going to pop her lip out to beg. You smirked and pointed to Soap, who had a big smile on his face.

“You need to ask Uncle Soap. Did you ask Uncle Gaz if he liked your art?” You nodded towards Gaz, who stared at the Sharpie in Soap’s hand until Winnie looked up at him.

She quietly asked him if he liked his new art, he smiled and said, “Love it. I’ll keep ‘em forever.”

The girl squealed in delight before looking back at Soap, blue marker in her hand. “Uncle Soap, can I pretty please draw on your arm?”

Soap jutted out his arm, letting the little girl grab it with one hand and immediately began to scribble. Soap’s smile got even bigger as he watched the little artist, you looked back at Simon. He settled the small glass jar on the table beside Soap’s packet, moving to wipe off Mellie’s face as she chewed on her spoon.

Your arms went around Simon’s bicep, moving to rest your cheek into his shoulder to gaze at your baby. You do want another one, but it’s up to your husband - another little girl that smiles just as wide as her sisters, or a boy that loves to play firefighter with his sisters.

You pressed a kiss to your husband’s shoulder before looking at the rest of your family at the dinner table, holding your husband just a little closer. He pressed a kiss to your head before trying to take back the spoon from his daughter, who almost started screaming bloody murder.

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She is entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, mock outraged, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Annabeth’s eyes narrow. “Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid —”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes as her grip on the Mist loosens.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding suddenly dawns on her.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys, stopped before you’re even started,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a bright grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

[auroralwriting]

just like me ౨ৎ

ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: after you get bit, you knew you’d be alright. ellie, though, had no clue. after all, no one but tommy and maria knew..

the pain you felt was immense. even though you couldn’t get infected, that shit still hurt. the feeling of rotting teeth, half fanged and sharp, dig into your hip hurt like all hell. those damn clickers sure did have a nasty bite.

you tried your best to hold back a yell, truly, you didn’t want that attention on you. but you just couldn’t help it.

footsteps rushed upstairs, gunfire right next to your ear as the clicker on you fell limp to the floor.

“holy shit,” ellie commented, seeing the blood on your hip. “holy shit!”

the calmness on your face made her panic. why the fuck weren’t you freaking out? you were surely going to die!

“ellie, don’t freak out,” you say slowly. she walked up to you and pulled your pants’ waistline down to see the nasty bite.

“don’t freak out?!” she yells, “you just got fucking bit!”

“i’m okay, els,” you try to ease her.

she looks at you confused, but with tears in her eyes. “how the hell are you okay?!”

you take a deep breath, “i’m immune. this’ll be my second bite.”

“y-you- your, what?” ellie stands up, her face filled with too many emotions to name. “immune?”

“i can’t infect you, or hurt you,” you slowly explain. “all that’ll do is scar. i’m gonna be okay.”

ellie now grabs your face, your cheeks slightly smushed in her hands. “are you fucking joking?”

“no,” you reply, face still mashed.

“you’re immune. holy shit, you’re immune!” she looks happy, the realization setting in. “why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” she asks, a slight bit of anger taking over. “i’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me?”

you sigh, taking her hands into your own and letting them fall to your sides. “tommy found me when i was seven. i was a little thing with an old bite on the back of my neck. he instantly knew i was immune, but not safe. he knew people would want me. but i was just a kid, you know?” you explain. “so, he took me in. told me not to tell a soul. you’re the third person to know besides maria.”

“i guess i can’t blame you,” ellie sighed. “joel told me the same thing.”

“us and our father figures, hu-wait, what?” you joke fell flat as you heard her words in your mind. “ellie, what are you saying?”

ellie smiled a bit, laughing. “those fuckers have been putting us together for patrol knowing we’d be alright!” she cried out in laughter.

“are you-”

“yeah.”

woah. you were both immune. you and your best friend. “ellie, holy shit!” you started to laugh with her.

“fuck, you had me so worried,” she sighed after a while of laughing, pulling your forehead against her own.

“i was worried you were gonna fucking shoot me,” you laughed softly.

ellie pulled back, eyes staring into your own. “i’d never do anything bad to you.” she replied, but this felt a lot different from the tone she usually takes with you.

actually, you’d seen her look like this at kat way back when she got that tattoo.

“ellie..” you say softly, eyes flickering to her lips.

“i’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, lips hovering just over your own. you could feel them ever so softly.

slowly, you pressed your lips together. it felt magical. you didn’t even know you were waiting for this moment until it happened. maybe ellie felt the same.

after pulling away, ellie cleared her throat. “uh, well,”

you looked outside “should be getting back, yeah?” ellie nodded, only one hand leaving yours. the other still was firmly holding yours.

“what a damn story this would be if we could tell it,” ellie chuckled.

“damn right.”

[meruz]

sorry if this has been asked before, but i wanted to ask about your lineart! the weight and line economy are just so nice, i get stars in my eyes looking at your lineart and doodles. could i ask what your approach to lineart is and what tips you might offer?

Wow I love these questions - Line is so interesting!!! It's a really big topic so I feel like any tips I give will be just barely scratching the surface. It's like deceptively simple...any given line drawing is essentially taking all the information we glean from seeing something irl ie light, shadow, dimension, texture, perspective, etc and boiling it down to the simplest possible visual information.

I think most commonly my line is informed by light source so like. thicker more continuous lines face away from the light and thinner more broken lines towards. and a lot of my spot blacks r simply cast shadows.

here's a more extreme example

BUT like everything to do with art there's no hard and fast rules. I use blacks when I think it'll be effective or interesting and I leave them out when I don't need em. umm couple things I find myself doing a lot... using spot blacks to make the separation between characters clearer. I like casting shadow in between characters so its easy to separate and read their silhouettes even when they're mashed together.

u can go even further to purposely create a silhouette like

to draw attention to a finger or tongue LOL. There's some comic book artists who are absolute masters at this type of stylization. Alex toth and his spiritual successor Chris samnee come to mind for me right away.

(toth)

(samnee)

I feel like I'm also often using line weight to separate planes receding in space

im naturally a really heavy handed and scribbly drawer(...?) draftsman. and im nearsighted so when i see things i percieve and break it down into big shapes over thin contours. so stuff like spot blacks and shadows came easy to me, the tricky part was making the rest of the lines lighter when they needed to be so the blacks could actually have impact LOLL. a lot of effective visual communication is about balancing contrasts. like I had to really train myself to press less hard on the pen. I think this is actually really evident if u go back in my archive to older sketches LOL

I actually feel like a lot of how I trained my hand to tackle line weights was thru stuff like hand lettering where you rly have to focus on being sensitive to that kind of thing.. contrasting strokes etc.

also exercises like figure drawing will have you flexing those muscles constantly

I'm starting to just regurgitate lessons from freshman year of art school so I'll stop here with the demos but yeah...I hope this was helpful!? I love line!!! I want to get even better at line work so I can feel confident posting work that's only line no color or value... I'll leave you with a bunch of artists who I think have particularly expressive and beautiful linework (not including toth and samnee who I already mentioned and who's work I love so much). You can probably learn much more from them than you can from me...!

Charles dana gibson LOL

Matias bergara

tonci zonjic

naoki urasawa

Daniel warren johnson

shiyoon kim

michel breton

also yoji shinkawa, tomer hanuka, leo romero, I feel like I'm gonna post this and think of so many more. there's so many good artists...!

[99hook]

Thanksgiving

Synopsis: Your family gets a little wild on Thanksgiving and Tyler sneaks you away from the chaos

A/N: this turned out to be funnier than i intended lmaooo and i also couldn’t figure out a good name for this fic so thanksgiving is what we’re going with

Pulling into the driveway, you felt your stomach knot up. You looked at the time being four-thirty and hoped you’d be able to leave by at least six.

Tyler turned the car off and looked over at you. “You’ve been silent the whole ride. You okay?” He asks, and you feel the knots in your stomach get even tighter.

“Yeah, I’m just nervous.” You admitted, clutching the dish you brought sitting in your lap.

“Why?” He asks. “It’s your family. I should be the one that’s nervous.” He chuckles, trying to lighten your mood.

“They just don’t get along when they all get together like this.” You tell him, sighing as you reluctantly unbuckled your seatbelt. “Last Thanksgiving ended in my uncle taking the whole turkey and chucking it across the yard because my cousin said it was dry. All hell broke loose after that.”

“What?” He gaped, clearly trying to stifle his laugh. “That’s crazy.”

“My mom and my aunt ended up throwing their drinks on each other and getting in a whole screaming match about some shit that they’re still mad about from high school too. They’re all crazy. Welcome to my family.” You forced a smile.

You were mainly nervous that Tyler wouldn’t be able to deal with the chaos. It was your first big holiday together and as much as you should’ve been anticipating it, you were dreading it.

His family was nothing like yours. They were crazy, but not in a way that they ended up in fights at the end of every get together. You realized that when he invited you to a summer barbecue at his parents house. They all welcomed you with open arms and joked around with each other all night long.

You’d been terrified for him to come to any holiday with your family ever since.

“Hey” he grabs your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay. Okay? If things get crazy tonight, we can just leave.” He shrugs. “But try to enjoy this. I know you love your family and you don’t get to see them much anymore. You should enjoy this time with them.”

You nodded with a smile that was a little less forced and leaned over to place a kiss to his cheek before you both got out the car.

Walking up to the door, you could already hear the chatter coming from inside the house. You opened the door and saw your mom and your aunt first, preparing some dishes in the kitchen. They turned around when they heard the door open.

“Hello!” Your aunt singed, grabbing the dish from your hand and passing it to your mom. She gave you a hug and moved on to Tyler.

“So nice to see you got to come today!” She beamed, giving him a hug next. “We’ve only got to meet one other time.”

“Yes ma’am, i’m glad i was able to make it.” He smiles. You could tell he was a little nervous himself.

You gave your mom a hug next and she handed you a spoon right after. “Stir the mashed potatoes for us please.” She says before she gives Tyler a hug next.

“You look nice today, Tyler. We were just wondering if you were gonna wear that hoodie we always see you in.” She teases.

There was a slight blush that crept up on his cheeks but he tried to hide it.

Just then, you heard some loud footsteps coming from the stairs and your uncle rounded the corner right after.

“I thought I heard y/n” He grinned, about to give you a hug before he saw Tyler standing next to the counter.

“You must be the boyfriend.” He says, walking over to the fridge and pulling out two beers, passing one to him.

“We’ve heard a lot about you.” He adds, twisting the cap.

Your aunt shot him a look that he picked up on. “Be nice” she said.

“I’m always nice” He grinned. “Come on, man, let’s let the girls finish up in here. You like UFC? Got it on upstairs in the game room if you wanna watch with us.”

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Tyler said, looking back at you one more time before he headed upstairs.

“And Uncle Bryce just stole my boyfriend.” You chuckle. “You told him not to interrogate him, right?”

“Of course.” Your aunt said. “He’s not gonna do anything like that. He’s just curious who this new guy is that his niece is dating.”

“I like him” Your mom chimed in. “He seems like he’s good to you, and you look happy.”

“I am.” You beam.

“Oh no.” Your aunt says when she opens the oven. “You know who’s not gonna be happy? Bryce. This ham is burnt.”

“I told you the oven was too high, Emily.” Your mom scolded, rushing to pull the ham out the oven.

“I always make it on this temperature, it was not too high.”

“Then why the hell is it burnt?” your mom snapped. “You always do this every single year. Maybe you should be in charge of something else, cause ham isn’t your specialty.”

You rolled your eyes as you stirred the mashed potatoes, feeling like the chaos was already about to start.

“Look at this!” Your mom exclaimed as she cut into the ham. “It’s gonna be so dry”

“It’s fine.” Your aunt snapped back, swatting your mom’s hand away so she could doctor the ham herself. “Just go check on the green bean casserole or something. I got this.”

Your mom sighed as she opened the second oven, pulling the pan out and lifting the foil.

“I made this, so I know it’s fine.” She made a smart comment, and you felt the tensions arising quick.

Just then, your cousin came through the door.

“I’m here, and I brought alcohol!” She cheered, picking up on the tensions in the kitchen as soon as she stepped in.

“Fuck. Another thanksgiving fight? Why did I expect anything less?”

“No, we’re not fighting this year.” You said as you shot a look between both your mom and your aunt. You grabbed two of the bottles from your cousins bag and handed her one. You were thankful she showed up cause if anyone could understand, it was her.

“Where’s your man? I thought you were bringing him?”

“Upstairs with the guys.” You say before clicking your glasses together and taking a sip.

“Oh God, poor guy.” She joked before she put the drinks in the fridge.

“Emily, just throw that shit out. We’ll stick with turkey.” Your mom snapped again.

“It’s fine! If you don’t want it, don’t eat it. I’m not throwing the whole ham out.”

“Nobody’s gonna want that shit.” Your mom raised her voice. You rolled your eyes again and looked over at your cousin who was tipping back her drink.

“It’s fine!” Your aunt shouted back. “Who’s ready to eat? Girls, go set the table.” She directed you, passing you plates and silverware.

You both headed into the dining room. You could still hear them bickering in the kitchen.

“Every year. Never fails.” You sigh.

“That’s our family.” Your cousin shrugs. “Why do you think I get drunk when I’m here?”

“Tyler has never seen a holiday with us though. I don’t want him to think we’re insane.”

“But we are.” Your cousin chuckled. “Didn’t you warn him? Our mom’s are control freaks, my dad is a certified asshole, grandma loves to instigate and nobody knows how to communicate. Happy holidays, right?”

“His family is nothing like ours.” You tell her as you place the silverware down. “They’re so laid back and we’re so…”

“Not laid back. Yeah. But don’t worry so much about it. He was gonna end up seeing the crazy anyway. Better he sees it now than ten years down the road.”

You heard your mom calling for the guys to come downstairs and fix their plates. You took a deep breath and internally prepared yourself for whatever the hell was about to happen.

Tyler surprisingly came down with a smile on his face. He gave you a quick kiss before he grabbed the plate you were passing to him.

“Have fun up there?” You quirked a brow, and he nodded.

“Yeah, your uncle and brother are pretty cool.”

“Everyone just ignore the burnt ham! We still have turkey!” Your mom announced, smiling even though you knew she was throwing a shot at your aunt.

Your aunt was gritting her teeth as she cut into the ham. You were just thankful she didn’t say anything to fuel your mom’s petty fire.

Once you all got seated and started eating, the interrogation from your uncle started.

“So, since we don’t know much about you, Tyler, care to tell us about yourself?”

“You didn’t find out enough by googling him?” Your cousin piped up. “Pretty sure you know this guy’s whole life story by now.”

Your uncle cut his eyes but bit his tongue. You felt Tyler give your hand a squeeze under the table.

“Um, well I’m from long island. I’ve been an athlete my whole life, and I’m a pro wrestler for AEW right now.”

“You don’t have to listen to him.” Your cousin tells Tyler, glaring at your uncle. “He’s just trying to be aggravating.”

“No I’m not. I’m just curious about this kid. What’s it like being a wrestler?”

“It’s pretty cool. I mean, it’s not easy. A lot of physical strain on the body. It’s pretty demanding but I love it at the same time.”

“I have a question.” Your aunt chimes in. “How did you two meet? Long Island is a long ways away from here.”

“I went to a show and we ran into each other afterwards.” You tell her.

“So you were a fan?” Your uncle asks. “Is she the only fan you’ve dated?”

You peered your eyes at him from across the table, picking up on his tone immediately.

“She is.” Tyler says.

“Well that’s cute.” Your grandma adds from a little ways down the table.

“I imagine a lot of girls probably throw themselves at you.” Your uncle added.

“Not really, no.” Tyler denied, squeezing your hand under the table again.

“I don’t believe that.” He chuckled. “You’re a good looking kid and you probably meet a lot of girls whenever you’re traveling, right?”

“Well, yeah but-“

“I’m just making sure my niece is in good hands. You can understand that. We don’t know that much about you so-“

“Honey, can you leave Tyler alone and just eat your food. We’re all having a nice time. Let’s not ruin it with all these questions.” Your aunt chipped in, and for a second you were thankful for that, but you should’ve known your uncle wasn’t gonna bite his tongue that much.

“Oh, you mean this dry ass ham?” He stabbed his fork into a piece. “Emily, I told you to leave me in charge of the ham and turkey for a reason.”

“Fuck you, Bryce!” She spat, throwing her fork down on the plate.

The energy in the room shifted immediately. You felt your stomach twisting up in those tight knots all over again. The pure embarrassment was what was really overwhelming you.

“Here we go.” Your cousin rolled her eyes before she chugged her drink.

You glanced at Tyler who dropped his head down, clearly uncomfortable with the tensions that were quickly brewing in that dining room.

“Don’t start your shit.” Your uncle snapped back.

“Maybe just be thankful you have a wife who puts all of this together for the family then!�� Your aunt retaliates.

“Guys, stop.” Your brother piped up. “Just eat so we can get this over with.”

“Get this over with? Is that all thanksgiving is to you all? Just something you have to drag your asses to my house for?!” Your aunt started up, and once she starts you already know there’s no stopping.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Your brother tries to alleviate the tensions.

“Yes he did.” Your uncle adds. “You don’t have to lie to her.”

“Stop while you’re ahead, Bryce.” Your aunt snapped.

“It’s the truth, Emily. Half of us at this table don’t even like each other!”

“Hey, that’s fucked up.” Your cousin piped up again.

“Am I lying?” Your uncle shrugged.

“I love all of y’all.” Your grandma added from the end of the table.

“You were just talking trash about everyone in this room.” Your mom put in her two cents, calling out your grandma.

You looked at Tyler again, and he looked over at you. He could read your mind in that moment in seemed like, cause as soon as everyone started going after each other, he took you by the hand and snuck you out the dining room.

Everyone was too caught up in the arguments to notice the two empty chairs left at that table, and you were just thankful to be out of that house.

You walked to the car and he opened your door for you before he got in the drivers seat.

“Please tell me we’re leaving.” You sighed. He stayed silent for a moment before he spoke, probably trying to figure out what the hell he just witnessed.

“You should still say goodbye to your family. I don’t think it would be right if we just left without telling anyone.”

“They won’t notice.” You tried to persuade him. “And I’m so sorry that you had to see all this tonight. This is what I was scared of.”

“It’s not your fault.” He says. “Don’t be sorry for anything, baby.”

“I was so worried you weren’t gonna be able to deal with all this. I mean, your family is nothing like mine. They’re so nice to each other and I just didn’t want you to think differently of me because mines kinda crazy.”

“First, nothing can make me think any different about you. I love you and that’s not gonna change. Second, you think my family isn’t crazy, but all families are. My parents argue sometimes. Sometimes it gets bad enough that my mom throws food at my dad and he has to sleep on the couch. You didn’t see that cause they were on their best behavior when you were there.” He chuckles.

“But they’re a little crazy too. You’ll see that eventually, unfortunately. Maybe Christmas.” He shrugs. “Christmas is usually the craziest holiday at my parents house.”

“You want me there for Christmas?” You couldn’t help the smile breaking out.

“Of course I do.” He nods. “You’re my girl, I want to spend every holiday with you.”

You felt your heart melt, leaning over to place a gentle kiss to his lips that lingered for a few sweet seconds.

“Plus, my mom said if I didn’t bring you she was gonna be mad at me. She wants to bake stuff with you, and I think you have more presents under the tree than I do.” He grins.

“Tell her I can’t wait.” You beam, placing another kiss to his lips.

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[NEXT PART]

Okay I'm trying to be brave and post this before I chicken out, first time writing a fic, and I'm not sure if this is any good.

So, since I don't have time to draw out all of the revenant au story, but I still want to share it, I'm writing it instead.

Will continue this if people are interested!

[this isn't requiered but reading the comic might help you understand this better]

[also there's a Soap pov version of this by Badolmen, it doesn't line up 100% because we didn't work together but it's very very good and you should read it regardless]

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking, Ghost.”

He shifted in his place. Can never get used to Price’s voice in his head.

“You know I work best alone. All he’s gonna do is get in the way.” 

Price’s mustache twitched, as if he’s fighting a smile. Bastard is about to drop something to win the entire argument, Ghost already knows.

“He’s a revenant. Strong one too.” 

Fucking figures. Still, he could argue he doesn’t need any support-

“Intel is rigged with explosives. And the Sergeant just so happens to be explosion-proof.”

…Fuck.

Ghost sighs heavily like he was presented with an unreasonable amount of shit to deal with. He watches as Price sits there, shit eating grin spitting at him. He looks back to the folder, at the details of this already annoying mission, “you said there are 2 buildings?”

Price snaps from his self boasting to confirm “one suspected barracks and the other an abandoned warehouse. Warehouse contains the majority of explosives.” 

Finally finding something to work with, Ghost straightens his back to his usual self-assured posture, “the Sergeant can deal with the warehouse, I’ll clear the barracks. No need to work together.”

Price seems less happy about that. Serves him right. He sighs and drags a hand over his face, and Ghost almost feels bad for ruining his plan to get him to play with a team. Almost.

“Will it kill you to try and work with the lad?” Price asks offhandedly, while organising the folder back to the never-ending pile of documents on his desk.

“You mean again?” Ghost would wear his own shit eating grin if his face wasn’t permanently covered.

Price still seems equally pissed. Probably saw it in his literal mind’s eye. “Get out of my office Lieutenant, wheels up at 0500.” He gets up and walks around his desk to face Ghost, “don’t scare the kid off alright? I have a feeling you two could mash well together.”

Ghost tilts his head and projects the most doubt he could muster at Price. “Yes sir.”

This is going to be a bloody long day.

It’s not that Ghost hates people per se, it’s just that most of them seem hell-bent on being annoying, disruptive, or boring. Useless on the field for someone of his caliber, and even more useless off-field.

He knows he’s not exactly easy to relate to, but he couldn’t care less about trying to be. He’s here for one purpose. And it’s not “making friends” or whatever Price and Gaz has been trying to push him towards.

He wonders which category the Sergeant currently standing in front of him will fall into. By his fidgeting nature and easy smile, Ghost would put his money on “annoying”.

The Sergeant, “Soap” apparently (Ghost wonders if that callsign was given to him before or after he died a probably painful death), now directs that smile at him, seemingly undeterred by the giant man wearing a skull like a stereotypical grim reaper. He has to give it to the lad, at least he hides his discomfort well.

“You must be Ghost, eh? Let’s get ourselves a win LT” The Sergeant says with an obvious Scottish accent, fist-bumps his shoulder and walks off towards transport.

Oh, annoying is definitely winning.

Despite that, Ghost can’t feel like Soap really fits it. He’s unlike the other muppets in the category, He’s not poking him like the rookies do, trying to make him reveal his powers.

No, the Sergeant is annoying like an overly friendly dog is to someone that doesn’t want to be licked. He’s acting like they’re just two normal soldiers on their way to a normal mission, not the unnatural, unexplainable phenomena they actually are.

Ghost will have to keep watching. Certainly on field he will be able to find out his true colors.

On the helo, Ghost picks his usual spot near the ramp, where the lights don’t reach as much and most prefer not to sit, and observes Soap. His fidgety nature stayed the same, but the carefree expression he wore on ground morphed into a determined one, face stern and serious. He seemed lost in thought, eyebrows twitching here and there. He sees how his fingertips flicker, watching flames dance between them before the rapid movements put them out.

Well, at the very least Soap doesn’t fall into “boring”.

Clearing the barracks is a laughably easy job, even without using his powers. Although, it would’ve been so much faster with them… too bad he doesn’t hate the Sergeant enough to send him to Limbo.

They practically run through both buildings, untouchable storms. Ghost has to admit, Soap is clearly competent, disarming bombs and taking down hostiles at an impressive rate.

God, he hates when Price is right.

“Ground floor clear, heading to the basement” Soap relays on comms. 

“Copy, clearing third floor, keep an eye out for Intel.” 

“I have to say LT, you’re not quite like I expected.”

Feeling’s mutual, Ghost thinks to himself. “That so?”

“Aye, you’re not a major cunt for starters.”

That startled a small huff out of him. What the hell do the rumors say about him? He would have to ask Gaz about that, “Could still change that Sergeant.” he mock-lectures him.

A small laugh is what he gets in return, “I doubt that. I’ve worked with some bastards before, you barely make top 50.”

“Only 50? I hoped for at least 20”

“Got work cut out for you then, sir”

“That I do.”

Ghost continues clearing the floor methodically before faltering for a moment. Why was he entertaining the Sergeant like that? Since when does he joke with people? 

Though, he would’ve done it more if he had someone so ready to joke back…

Useless thoughts. 

Cursing Price, Soap, and all other stupid distracting things swirling in his head, Ghost takes down another hostile.

The mission is going without a hitch. Which is usually when something “hitches”.

A couple of minutes after Soap’s last words, Ghost sees a bright light flash from the warehouse, before a soundwave shakes the windows of the now barren barracks.

One of the explosives went off… “Soap, what the hell happened there?”

No answer.

Ghost knows he’s fine. Price wouldn’t brag about how “explosion-proof” he is otherwise. But he’s not answering…

“Sergeant, give me sitrep, now.”

Ghost stands still for another minute, listening to static. He checked the last room right before the explosion went off, so he just has to go to exfil and wait for the Sergeant at this point. His part of the work is done.

He should just go to exfil.

Ghost climbs down the stairs and heads for the warehouse, a foreboding plume of dark smoke billowing from its roof.

If asked why he didn’t ignore his gut feeling and use his brain like always, he wouldn’t have an answer.

Maybe he just wanted to exchange one more joke with the Sergeant before they finish the mission and never see each other again.

Arriving at the doors, he sees how the ground floor caved in, creating a ramp down to the basement. He starts making his way down, when he sees bodies littering the debris. Was Soap ambushed?

“Soap? Where the fuck are you Sergeant!” Ghost shouts. He has half a mind to be quiet, not wanting to attract enemies to their location, before realizing no one would’ve survived this. No one but-

“LT…?”

“Soap, why weren’t you answering comms- what…”

He stumbles upon Soap. Soap, who's laying on the grey concrete floor, wheezing and shaking, a metal rebar in his hands. Ghost walks closer and realizes the rebar is going through his stomach and pinning him to the floor. 

The Sergeant’s eyes blearily look at the metal “I need, I n-need to get this out…”

He lifts himself half an inch and Ghost sees how the blood rushes out of the wound, how Soap pales. 

Ghost rushes to his side. “Stop fucking moving”, he slides his hands under his torso, feels his gloves getting soaked in blood, “let me help you”.

Soap’s breathing becomes less harsh, and he looks up at him, “you… you don’t have to-”

He slowly lifts Soap before he can say another useless remark. The muscles under his fingertips clench and the Sergeant chokes out a scream.

“Fuck” Soap mutters between pants. 

“We’re halfway there, you’re doing good.” Ghost lets him rest before continuing to lift his body up. The blood keeps rushing out of the wound, enough that he doesn’t understand how Soap is still conscious. The sergeant let go of the rebar, and is now gripping Ghost’s forearms like he’s about to fall to his death.

After a few seconds, which Ghost is sure felt like hours for Soap, he eases him off the metal and onto the ground. Soap immediately collapses, shuddering and holding his hands around the wound.

Ghost then realizes he’s not sure how the Sergeant’s powers work. Is this supposed to even happen? Is he actually dying?

Soap looks up at that moment, giving him a small smile that looks more like a grimace, “I just… give me a minute to heal, I’ll be ready to go soon.” he uncurls and drags himself to sit against a piece of wall.

Ghost frowns and slowly steps towards Soap and slides to sit next to him, “take however long you need.”

He doesn’t look, but from his peripheral, he sees Soap’s head whipping around and staring at Ghost like he told him he’s giving him a million pounds.

He seemed to find something in his expression (however much he could even see of it), and looked down at his bloodied hands, “thank ye…”

Ghost blinks down, “I hope this doesn’t lower my cunt rank.”

Soap lets out a small laugh that turns into a fit of coughs. More blood rushes out of his wounds, and Ghost internally winces.

“Ha… I think it takes ye off the list, mate.”

Ghost heaves an over-the-top sigh, “shame”.

Soap smiles at him, and Ghost notices it’s different from the one he gave him before the helo. This one is… warmer. Or at least it makes him feel so.

Soap lifts his shirt to inspect the wound, and Ghost can’t help by take a look. The wound stopped bleeding, and when Soap wipes some of it away, he can see how it’s already closing.

So he does get hurt… it just heals. Ghost still wonders how it all works, but he knows their powers work with bizarre rules, weird exceptions and what not. He can almost hear his Reaper laughing. Or whatever you would call that chilling noise it lets out when it finds something funny.

It doesn’t matter either way. Not like he’ll get to work with Soap again. 

The Sergeant exhales and lets his shirt drop, “a’right, let’s fuckin’ finish this.” he slowly starts lifting himself up before Ghost wordlessly grabs his arms and helps him.

Soap mumbles a thanks, “did you find any intel?” 

Ghost looks ahead. The climb out of the basement won’t be easy on his wound… “Negative. We’ll keep looking.”

Eventually they reach a door labelled “storage”, that is blocked by several tonnes of concrete and metal. Ghost internally curses.

Soap, who’s been trailing behind Ghost, reaches the door and looks around. Ghost is about to ask him if he’s got a few C4’s hidden somewhere when the Sergeant asks him, “permission to use my powers, sir?”

Ghost raises an eyebrow, “what are you planning?”

“Gonna blow it up sir” Soap says like it was obvious.

“...go ahead.” Ghost replies, half baffled Price forgot to mention the Sergeant, besides being unkillable by explosions, can also create them. 

Was probably in the folder he didn’t bother reading.

He takes a step back to let Soap Have a go. The Sergeant rests his palms on the debris, inhales, and…

A loud boom makes Ghost’s ears ring. He’s momentarily blinded by the bright explosion before he regains his vision, and sees Soap stepping around the remains of the door into the small room.

Ghost shakes away his slight shock and joins him. Soap’s powers intrigue him… he wonders what else he could do.

Somehow, the intel survived the explosions. Ghost could barely care. At least they won’t have Price on their case later on. 

As they walk towards the exfil point, a heavy feeling sinks within Ghost. He’s not sure what to call it, but if he had to it would be “regret”.

Regretting what, he’s not sure. Maybe he should’ve prolonged their walk.

And from a glance at his face, Soap might understand this feeling as well.

“You did well Sergeant.” He has the sudden urge to say. Maybe it will make him regret less.

Soap casts a smile at him. It doesn’t warm him in the slightest.

The chopper blades slashing through air never made him feel worse.

“I guess this is it then.” Soap says when they land.

Ghost turned to face him. That heavy feeling in him just kept getting heavier throughout the flight. Why?

“So it seems.”

Soap stares for a moment longer before sighing. Ghost wants to do something about the annoyingly heavy air of despair around them.

“Soap” the Sergeant hums, “Why did the Scotsman’s prank fail?”.

Confusion takes over his features, “what?”

Ghost inhales, “because no one let him get away scot-free.”

Soap stares at him like he brought shame to his entire bloodline. Ghost grins like he did.

“Steamin’ Jesus LT, that was horrendous.”

“Ah Sergeant, just admit my jokes are better, no need to be a sore loser.” 

“My gran got better jokes than this, fuckin’ hell” Soap laughs.

“I’d like to meet her.”

“So you two could battle? I rather not see you die of embarrassment sir.”

Soap’s transport decides to arrive at this moment, chasing away the small joy they both found.

Soap looks back at it and turns to Ghost.

“It’s been great working with you sir.” if Ghost was feeling bold, he would say Soap almost looks sad, “I hope we’ll get to go another round later.”

Ghost hates the hopeful tone in his voice. Hope is uncertain, leaves everything up to chance.

Useless.

“Likewise, Sergeant.”

He stays standing there for a few minutes, staring at the truck vanishing towards the horizon. As if it will lighten the boulder in his chest.

“So, Simon, what’s your verdict?” Price finishes after debrief.

Ghost thinks about the entire endeavour. Not annoying, not disruptive, or boring.

Soap is…

“He’s something else…”

Critiques are welcome! Nobody beta'd this so I'm sure there are mistakes lol (that and this isn't my first language...)

[emilybeemartin]

Ok ok ok ok listen. Because I have anxiety I feel it's my duty to say that this show won't be for everyone. I came to it over quarantine because my husband suggested we read Bernard Cornwell's series together, and I agreed because I liked Hornblower and knew this was the army equivalent and, let's face it, I wanted to see scruffy mid-thirties Sean Bean in uniform.

THE PREMISE:

Richard Sharpe is a lowborn rank-and-file soldier in the 95th Rifles during the Napoleonic Wars who is raised to an officer after saving Sir Arthur Wellesley's life (this all happens differently in the books, but the basic event is the same). Throughout the series, he rises in the ranks thanks to his bravery and heroism/recklessness, but he's always caught between two worlds--trying to be a leader of common men while never being accepted by the rest of the highborn officers.

Let's start with the bad:

CONS:

Look, this is a 90s drama glorifying the British army. So like, there are gonna be issues. Women are mostly romantic side pieces to be wooed and rescued, and there are plenty of subplots, verbiage, and stereotypes that didn't age well. Production values are low for the first few and so you've got battle scenes with like fifteen guys and a horse, which honestly I find endearing. But no episode is more cringey than Sharpe's Gold. Due to legal issues, the script had to be rewritten with none of the original material, and it turned into this bizarro semi-supernatural horror involving Aztec gold (in Spain, yes). It's completely different from all the other episodes, and even Sean Bean didn't like it (he called it a "mish mash," which is true). It's such a weird piece of work that we almost stopped watching the show, but we continued, and we were relieved to find that the rest of the series is markedly better. History Hack podcast does a great dive into why this episode was so whack.

PROS:

I MEAN COME ON

Sean really understood this character--absolute chaos on the battlefield and shy and awkward pretty much everywhere else. He's amazing in battle scenes and he's EPIC at acting wounded. But the scenes I replay over and over are when he's socially out of his depth and gets flustered and sputtery and so Sheffield the captions can't handle it.

Supporting cast:

You'll find a lot of your classic British TV favorites making appearances throughout this series, and the camaraderie among the riflemen is always fun. Obviously this is a dude fest, as stated above, but some of the women are also written and acted really, really well--- Assumpta Serna as Teresa is that winning combination of a love interest/action heroine who doesn't devolve into a damsel in distress, and even passes the Bechdel test on a few occasions. And Diana Perez as Ramona is so badass and enjoyable.

Locations: Aside from a few interior sets, these films are mostly shot outside on location, with practical effects and stunts. There's some gorgeous scenery of the Crimean peninsula standing in for Spain and Portugal, and it's just really fun watching these guys run around rocky escarpments and fields with flares and stage explosives going off around them.

Music: I saw someone tag the opening theme as "electric guitar jumpscare" and they're not wrong. It's wonderfully anachronistic and totally 90s and you'll never get used to it. But far better are the soldiers' songs John Tams threads throughout, as well as his and Muldowney's thematic scores, and you will always, always finish an episode with him singing "Over the Hills and Far Away" stuck in your head.

Filming Lore: There was a LOT that happened during filming. Everything from Paul McGann having to drop out as the lead to misadventures in filming in Crimea just after the collapse of the Soviet Union. History Hack podcast has an awesome series of "filming of" episodes with input from cast, crew, and historians, and Jason Salkey (Rifleman Harris) has a book called "From Crimea With Love" that details the batshit filming adventures. I haven't read it but he references it every six minutes throughout the podcasts.

So: you've been warned, you've been primed. Start with Sharpe's Rifles; it's on Youtube. Watch it and Eagle, maybe jump to Battle or Siege if you're not sure, and then make up your mind.

If this all sounds enjoyable to you, but you wish there were more tall ships, more Paul McGann, more heroic brooding, and even MORE true love cosplaying as masculine camaraderie, you're in luck! Because you should also watch Hornblower!

And then draw fan art of it all! Please,,, I am so lon el y