#spry older fella

[fictophilianworld]

Steve Rogers headcanons (part 2)

Probably astonished at not having segregation

Nearly dies when he sees women wearing revealing clothes. Especially when Nat/Wanda’s walking around showing cleavage, he’s standing there like “Nuh uh. Zip it up. Put a jacket on.”

When they complain or protest, he automatically goes “Back in my days—“

But immediately stops/ hates himself for it because he feels so old or out of place. It’s jsut yet another reminder of all the things he’ve missed and the time he spent under ice. He tries, he really does. But there are some things that he doesn’t get or makes him uncomfortable.

Loves volunteering at orphanages or similar institutes because they remind him of himself a little

He just wants to spread love 💕

Will interfere 100% if he sees bullying or mugging on the streets

Frequently listens to modern history lectures at unis/ podcasts/ history channels to catch up + look back on the 40s in a different light

Fascinated by social media

Will accidentally post stuff online (ahem, Chris Evans—)

Has very conflicted views about the atomic bomb + Vietman War.

This man straigh up admitted he didn’t want to kill Nazis and that he hates bullies. Imagine what the bomb must’ve looked like to him. yes, it did end the war, but… Probably disgusted by the sheer number of civilians it killed. It’d just end up in him losing faith in international organizations or the government even more LMAO

Similar with Vietnam War. Stopping the Commies from turning the country into a dictatorship/totalitarian society? Sure. But Tet Offensive/ similar civilian massacres? HELL NO

[beeruler]

i have a whole ice skating au concocting in my head and i!! and going to write down some points this is very long and very stoopid but hear me out

ok so im thinking

1. Jaskier has been skating his whole life, and has a dream to make it to the Olympics and take the gold

2. when jaskier is 19 he falls during a super risky jump sequence and nearly shatters his ankle and knee, benching him permanently

3. Jaskier being stubborn as he is begins skating again after 9 years of moping, more than 10 years older than most of his competitors he is practicing every night in order to catch up for lost time, 

4.Yennefer is his very supportive but secretly worried friend because she knows if he gets hurt again he might not be able to even walk again

5. enter geralt and ciri, who catch him practicing a routine late at night. Ciri is a young prodigy and geralt is her coach, having been one of the more decorated skaters in his time 

6. Naturally geralt and ciri are curious about this 30 year old man skating like a professional and sit in and watch, jaskiers ears are burning so he stops and sees the prettiest man he has ever seen in his LIFE

7. Geralt sees past a lot of jaskiers plays on confidence and knows he is insecure about being a has been, and older fella with a past injury, he isn’t as spry but the love for the sport is still there, geralt decides then and there he wants to coach him

8. insert incredible montage of geralt coach jask set to maniac

9. jaskiers first competition after years begins and he is able to complete fall back into his old persona and while making minor mistakes comes through with a solid piece, he doesn’t win, barely manages to hold on to 3rd place but he is so excited that he was able to do it

10. pointing excited at his ribbon geralt smirks and gives him a thumbs up

11. uhhh celebratory dinner jask kisses geralt idk man i didnt think this far ahead   

[simonxriley]

For the "send me a fandom" thinh 01 - Call of Duty 02 - I dunno if you have any pairings with Makarov or Soap? If you do i guess you can choose the one you prefer Dx 03 - Soap

Thank you! I did the Modern Warfare Series for the first one because this would have taken me forever to answer xD.

Favorite character:

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Least Favorite character:

Shepherd. I actually hate him lol. 

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Ghost x Liz (oc), Soap x Price, Ghost x Roach, Dunn x Ramirez and Ghost x ME ;)

Character I find most attractive:

Soap, Ghost, Dunn and Price. 

Character I would marry:

Ghost and Dunn.

Character I would be best friends with:

Ghost, Soap, Roach, Dunn, Ramirez. 

A random thought:

I hope the bring back the Ranger’s, I miss Dunn and Ramirez. 

An unpopular opinion:

Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who thinks Ghost is completely different than how everyone portrays him as. Which I actually loathe. 

My Canon OTP:

Ghost x Roach, I just love them and wish they survived.

My Non-canon OTP:

Ghost x Liz. I could go on a long tangent on why I love these two. 

Most Badass Character:

I’m gonna have to say Price. For an older fella he’s very spry for his age. 

Most Epic Villain:

Makarov.

Pairing I am not a fan of:

Soap x Ghost 

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

Canon wise I think everyone was fine, fanfiction wise I would say Ghost and Roach. A lot of people make Ghost out to be a complete asshole and sometimes abusive which I am so not a fan off. Roach they make him out to be some really young twink and not a professionally trained soldier that he is. And sometimes he’s just plain..ack. 

Favorite Friendship:

Soap and Price, Soap and Ghost, Ghost and Roach and Dunn and Ramirez. 

Character I most identify with:

The closest would be Dunn. 

Character I wish I could be:

Truthfully no one. Actually can I be Price’s boonie hat? At least I won’t die and I can just sit upon his head. 

The rest will be under the cut because this is gonna get long. 

Soap x Price

When I started shipping them:

I can’t really pinpoint when I started but it was during my first play through of MW3 (i played the games out of order). 

My thoughts:

I love these two characters so much. I love how much they care about each other and they’re bickering and how much Price is willing to go above and beyond for Soap. 

What makes me happy about them:

What I said above lol.

What makes me sad about them:

Soap’s death and Price’s reaction. To see Price like that was heartbreaking. 

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Uhh I don’t know, it’s been a while since I’ve read any Soap x Price fics. 

Things I look for in fanfic:

I don’t look for a specific thing, if the summary catches my eye than I’ll read it. But fluff and smut are always a plus. 

My wishlist:

Don’t have one. 

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

I don’t ship them with anyone else really. Actually I’m completely okay with Soap ending up with @cameoninja OC Dakota because I love them too, even if they haven’t met in her fic yet. 

My happily ever after for them:

They move in together and just live a happy life. 

Soap:

How I feel about this character:

I love Soap, he was the reason I got into CoD to begin with. I love his selfless nature, the way he truly cares about his team and he’s hot. 

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character:

Price and Dakota. 

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

Ghost and Roach. 

My unpopular opinion about this character:

I wish he didn’t toss Yuri out the church first. Soap save yourself. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

That he survived and got to kill Makarov with Price and Yuri. 

Favorite friendship for this character:

Hands down Price. They’ve been through so much together and they definitely have a bond. 

My crossover ship:

Don’t have one. 

[biff-adventurer]

FFxivWrite2019 - Prompt #25: Trust

previous pieces here and here

also why am i like this someone pls explain

Banksy poked his fork into the salted steak, only half listening to the rambunctious banter of his older brothers. No, it was not a night when all ten of them had assembled—that was rare—but it was more of the usual get together dinners, for the ones who had stayed close to home.

Brette, of course, lived on the farm with Da and Ma, so it was always the destination. Bentley, too, who had stayed behind, always smiled smug in welcome on these nights. Then there was Bowen, Bentley’s twin, who readily bragged about the sum of money that brought him there from Ul’dah, with unprecedented haste each time. Bobby, who came from his bakery in Limsa proper, brought more and more elaborate pastries with every visit. Barden lived on too meager means to come from Gridania, though he claimed it was his leatherworking that kept him busy; Beasley rightfully asserted that it was too much trouble to come down from Ishgard for more than a few times a year; and Bevan, who had settled down far off in Hingashi, saw them on still fewer occasions.

Graciously, the gods had seen fit to make Banksy the eighth in line, and so he had only seven brothers. This made him invisible to the judgments of his elders, who had long settled down with trades and wives and children. He himself was a rogue, though he had managed to make them believe him a junkmnoger (and wasn’t he, after a fashion?). Naturally, they might have redirected their judgments to his younger brother, Brad; but even thirty years had not granted Brad much wisdom of the heart, as he remained hopelessly oblivious to the people around him, glued to his books and theories all day. For that, and more, he had everyone’s pity, but books were a livelihood, and so their worries were quelled.

And then there was the youngest brother, the one who had gone on his adventures.

“I wonder what the lad’s up to these days. Didn’t even come home fer his nameday, the little man.” This came from the far end of the table, where sat Bentley at his father’s right. As he poured the wizened, old man’s drink, he carried on with a sneer. “He thinks he’s a big man now. Heard he were makin’ merry with the rest o’ the realm.”

“It ain’t news though,” said Bowen, the ritzy twin. The lantern lights, dim though they were, set each of the golden notches in his necklace aglitter. “He’ll be back, sooner or later.”

“Sooner, I hope,” said Brad softly, mostly to himself. He stared into his plate. The others continued in their ridicule, unhearing.

“You were at that party, weren’t you?” said Banksy, tone equally hushed. “How did he look? Is he well in health? He weren’t faint or nothin’?”

Brad shook his head. “No, I didn’t see anything like that. He was so happy. He didn’t throw it himself, you know. His friends surprised him with it. He’s not like they say—”

“I know, I know,” said Banksy, patting his back. “You’ve got somethin’ else on your mind though, don’t you?”

Brad shrank into himself. Looking into his lap, he shook his head. “No… I— I don’t think… I wasn’t thinking anything!”

A hush fell over the table. Bobby extended his hand to Brad from across his seat.

“Ye must miss the wee lad,” he said, gently. When Brad did not take the hand, he pulled it away. “He’ll be back before ye know it.”

“T’ collect his allowance, aye,” laughed Bowen, who clinked glasses with his equally laughing twin.

Bobby and Banksy exchanged looks of annoyance. Why they had continued to give a man in his late twenties an ‘allowance’ was anyone’s guess. Next year, the young upstart would be a spry thirty. Banksy guessed that it had to do with ego; whatever pennies they sent had been accepted by a brother who knew to keep his head down.

“He won’t be!” Brad shot up from his chair, pale, fists clenched. He glowered at the others, studying each of their faces with an ineffable intensity. “You don’t understand! It’s happening again, all over again! But this time, he won’t be here, and it’s why he hasn’t been here, and you’re all too stupid to see it!”

Bansky watched his father curiously. Indy Jo Guy did not look up from his plate. He did not seem to see the look of concern Brette gave him, nor the questions swirling in the eyes of his sons.

“What d’ye mean?” Bentley dared to ask, finding his sneer again. “Ye don’t think he can escape Ma’s grasp, do ye?”

Brad slammed a fist on the table. “Ma couldn’t make him forget Ana! And what now? Ever since he’s gotten together with Mikazuki, even his bloody friends have seen him less! And guess what? They’re betrothed now! And the whole time, the whole damn time, he only had eyes for his pretty, little noble!” His eyes began to water. Banksy sprung to his feet and reached for Brad’s arm, but it was swept away in a vigorous, haphazard motion. “I’m telling you, he’s not coming back! He’ll disappear on us this time, and you’ll all be sorry!”

“But Mikazuki is a decent sort,” said Brette, shaking his head. “Did you—Did you say they were betrothed?”

Brad nodded emphatically. “They didn’t even come home to announce it. I don’t think they will. If he just leaves and marries Mikazuki, he won’t ever need to come back. He’ll have everything he ever wants! This is all your fault, anyway!”

Bentley stood slowly, a shadow crossing his face. “And what exactly did you do t’ make him stay?”

A low blow. This was enough to dampen Brad’s anger, returning him to a long-enduring state of cowardice. He shivered, drawing his arms around himself, meeting no one’s gaze.

“Fancy that, brother,” chuckled Bowen. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve watched a grown man cry.”

“That’s what ye get,” agreed a pleased Bentley, finding his seat again.

Bobby looked helplessly between the twins, then to Brette, who merely looked on with an aloof disapproval. The twins continued to laugh in the hanging silence.

“Enough.” A voice deep, low and raspy. This could only belong to their father, who looked up at them with his sharp, grey eyes. “Bradley. Over here.”

A meek Brad shuffled to his father’s side, uncertain. Rare was the occurrence that the old man uttered a word. When he did, it was one of those throw-away, cotton-brained sorts of sayings that one didn’t really commit to memory.

“I won’t have any of ye draggin’ poor Biff’s name through the mud,” said Indy, slowly. “So long as yer Ma’s on holiday, yer all t’ shut yer traps about it. I don’t care how ye feel, what ye feel. That’s yer little brother yer talkin’ about. Yer littlest brother. You sorry sods are supposed t’ be protectin’ him. Every one o’ ye.”

Banksy, seating himself, wished he could look away from his father. An ugly, self-conscious feeling crawled under his skin. No one was the exception.

“That poor lad’s out protectin’ the realm instead,” growled Indy. “How could ye let that happen to that sweet boy? And about this business with his fella—” He found Brad’s gaze a time more. “—the same goes. Maybe ye don’t trust yer brother’s judgment, but that man did no wrong. Anyone with eyes could see his loyalty, and that’s what counts. Now, go, eat, and get yer bloody head together. I said what I said. I’ll hear no more of this.”

Banksy opened his mouth—

“I’m fed up,” said Indy, reaching for his cane. “You lot don’t know what it means t’ be a Guy.”

With that, Indy hobbled away, and Banksy… closed his mouth.