#the price thing makes it an intense no tho

[beloveds-embrace]

(firefighters!141 x chubby reader… 👁️👁️ )

A friend of yours is a fire chief for your town’s local fire station. They ask you to help the fire station do some training drills for rescue operations. Your friend says it’s because you have acting skills, but you both silently acknowledge it probably has to do with the fact that you are chubby. Not fit, not thin, not easy to carry as evident by all the partners you’ve dated before- whatever you wanna call it.

It’s alright, you are pretty used to it. If they weren’t your friend, you would have honestly refused and saved yourself the inevitable humiliation, but alas. You are used to it, you really are.

You are introduced to Captain John Price, who holds your hand so warm and snug you have to will your blush away, but there’s nothing that can help you as he lays a big hand over your lower back and leads you to the waiting firemen. Three men, though you expected far more but John- Call me John, sweetheart. Captain is just for thos muppets- explains that they’ll be doing it in groups.

You are introduced to the three firemen (a Scot, and two Brits. Johnny, Kyle and Simon respectively. Unlike the other two, though, Simon is wearing a balaclava) and by god, you almost want to say that just for today, there is a different source of water they can use-

“Lay down here, sweetheart.” John’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and with a blush, you scramble to obey. The good girl you receive in return might as well be the best thing you’ve even been told in your entire life and the heat between your legs agrees as well.

Though you are quickly reminded that this will probably not go so well, considering your size and everything and maybe you should just apologize and leave already-

Before you can think about leaving, Johnny steps forward with that smirk he’s had since the beginning and a glint of mischief in his eyes. He crouches down next to you, stretching his arms out. “Alright, lass,” he says with a wink, “don’t be shy now. Let’s see if I’m up for the challenge.”

Before you can even process it, he slides his arms under you and lifts you up effortlessly- still mindful of your “injury”. Your face goes bright red as he shifts you in his grip, making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He gives a low whistle as he run around with you in his arms, a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Not too bad, eh? Thought I’d be struggling, but you’re light as a feather.” His grin widens, smug, as he watches your flustered reaction. “Didn’t expect me to be so strong, did ya, lass?”

You mumble something incoherent, trying to avoid his eyes, and he laughs, his deep chuckle vibrating through his chest. When he finally sets you down, you’re left feeling a little dazed, and before you can catch your breath, Kyle steps in and helps you lay back down.

“Alright, my turn,” he says with a gentle smile, his hands warm and careful as he reaches down to lift you. His grip is steady and secure, and he holds you with a tenderness that has your heart pounding in your chest. Unlike Johnny, Kyle doesn’t say much, but he gives you soft, reassuring smiles that somehow fluster you even more to the point where you really, really just want to bury your face in his shoulder. His arms feel solid around you, and there’s an easy confidence in the way he carries you that leaves you a little breathless.

“You doing okay, doll?” he asks, his voice low and soothing, and you nod, struggling to keep from blushing harder. He catches the faintest smile on your lips and chuckles softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he gently sets you back down.

Simon is next. He’s quiet as he approaches, his intense gaze flickering over you. Without a word, he slides his arms under you and lifts you in one smooth motion that leaves you drooling (in more ways than one). His hold is firm, and you can feel the strength in every part of his frame. If you weren’t playing the role of an injured, barely-conscious woman, you would honestly be begging to feel under his clothes.

He doesn’t say much as he carries you, but his steady breathing and the quiet intensity in his eyes speak volumes. You can barely hold his gaze; there’s something about his silent, stoic demeanor that sends your heart racing.

Finally, John steps up, and you realize you’re already blushing before he even touches you. Honestly? You doubt your face will return to normal anytime soon. “Alright, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet authoritative. He wraps his arms around you, lifting you with an ease that leaves you a little lightheaded. The warmth of his embrace and the strength in his arms make you feel small and delicate in a way that you’ve never felt before. It leaves you breathless, but in a good way. John holds you close, his breath tickling your ear as he chuckles. “Not so bad, is it?”

By the end of it, your cheeks are burning, and the four of them are all sharing knowing smirks- you can even see the slightest crinkles of Simon’s eyes.

“Well, I’d say you’ve helped these muppets passthe test alright, sweetheart.” John huffs, his voice warm and full of amusement, and the others chuckle in agreement, each of them clearly enjoying your reactions far more than you anticipated. You can barely meet any of their eyes, your heart still pounding from the attention- and the teasing glances they keep exchanging make it clear that they noticed every flustered look and blushing smile.

As you’re still catching your breath, John tilts his head, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, and continues. “Well, we’ll have to call you back soon for another round, sweetheart. Can’t let the boys get rusty.” he teases, giving you a wink.

Johnny chimes in with a grin, taking your hand and kissing your palm. “Aye, can’t let you off that easy, bonnie. We’ll need plenty more practice to make sure we’ve got it down, yeah?”

Kyle nods as well, his gaze fixed on you. Never before have you had so much attention on you, and you never realized how much you quite love it. “Wouldn’t be proper training without our favorite helper.”

Simon, ever the quiet one, just gives you a small nod, but there’s a glint of promise in his eyes that makes your stomach flip.

You can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth you didn’t expect filling your chest. “I’ll… I’ll look forward to it. I’m glad to be of help.” You manage, your cheeks still tingling from the attention.

As you turn to leave, maybe go and ask your friend what else they could need you for since you are such a gracious friend, John’s voice calls after you, low and steady. “Soon, sweetheart.” The words linger, making you wonder just how soon “soon” might really be.

You hope it’ll be soon enough. Very soon enough.

[rafesproperty]

Rafe Cameron x Reader GF <3

Rafe with a girlfriend that loves to read. He doesn’t get it. Really. But he’d do anything to make his girl happy. ❤️‍🩹

Just Rafe being disgustingly sweet and spoiling reader…

I wanna make a part 2 where he finds out about annotating cuz that scenario is just hillarious to me 😭 lmk if you want it!

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Hey, baby,” Rafe mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, it was early in the morning and his voice was still rough, his hair messy and his eyes barely open as he reached for your coffee and took a sip. You were staying at Tannyhill for a while because his dad was on some family trip with Sarah and Rose.

You chuckled and reached for your coffee, snatching it from his hand. “Morning.”

He started to make coffee for himself as well, you’d normally admire his back in the white shirt he was wearing, but you were almost finished with your book so you kept reading, eyes glued to the page. Rafe noticed and looked over his shoulder at you. “Wheezie’s still sleeping?” His eyes trailed down to the table, one singular book laying there but a bunch of mini colorful papers and pens laying around it. He raised an eyebrow when he noticed there was no notebook tho. Weird.

“Mhm,” you gave a quick nod, clearly more focused on the text in your book than on him. “Made you some waffles.” You added and kept reading the page quickly. Suddenly you let out a gasp.

“What?” Rafe quickly turned around, his flight fight or fight mode on immediately. Then he let out a frustrated groan when he realised why you gasped and he leaned against the table, flexing his arms (not happy that you didn’t even look), and sneaking a glance at the page.

“Oh, my fucking God. I need to know the rest.” You let out a tortured moan and looked up at him, suddenly realising you were not alone and that your very much judgy boyfriend was staring at you. You felt your cheeks flush. “Sorry, um… it just… was intense is all.” You closed the book shut, avoiding eye contact with him.

Rafe grinned. “You’re so weird.” He mumbled and ran a hand through your hair. “So, so weird it actually makes you cute as fuck.” He whispered as he leaned down to you, you closed your eyes and purred softly at his touch. He smirked, satisfied that he finally got your attention.

You chuckled at his comment, looking up at him. You knew Rafe didn’t get it. He was very much reality-oriented and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to force him to read a book if his life depended on it. Yours maybe… but you’d probably die anyway. Plus there was no way he’d ever find the time in his schedule to read something. He was either taking care of business or spent all his free time with you and you only, and intended to keep it that way.

He went back to making coffee and you pulled out your phone, looking up the next book in the series you were currently reading. The thing is it was still a fresh release and everyone loved this series so it was sold out everywhere, hard to get and if a store had it they put an insane price on it, knowing some people would buy it anyway.

“30 fucking dollars for a paperback? Fucking assholes.” You slammed your phone down and Rafe turned around, giving you a look of genuine confusion.

“What’s wrong?” He had no idea what a paperback means, or how much books even cost. Thirty dollars sounded normal to him… cheap even.

“What’s wrong? Baby 30 bucks would be insane even for a hardcover.”

“A what?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking ridiculous. They put a big price on it because they know people want it and some people will buy it but I-“

“I’ll get it for you.” Rafe stopped your rant and sat down next to you with his coffee and the waffles you made earlier.

“What? No, Rafey, no. It’s so fucking expensive.”

He genuinely grinned at your statement. “Baby, it’s 30 bucks.” He rested his hand on your knee, drawing little circles with his thumb, trying to ease your mood. He was still sleepy, normally you’d admire how pretty he looked with his hair all messy and eyes puffy.

“No. That’s not the point. It’s too much for a book. Baby a paperback is usually around 10 dollars.”

“So?”

You groaned. Oh how you wanted to rant to someone about how stupid it was, but of course Rafe didn’t understand. Where was Wheezie when you needed her?

Rafe grabbed your phone and checked the location of the bookstore. You both ate your waffles and chatted about some other things for a while. He eventually got up. “Get dressed, we’ll go get it.”

“Rafey it’s really okay-“

“Shut upppp,” it was his turn to groan in annoyance now and you chuckled at his expression. “Wanna make you happy baby, I don’t give a fuck if it costs a thousand. Get dressed.”

There was no arguing with Rafe once he made up his mind. You were on his bike within a few minutes, holding on to him as he parked in front of the bookstore. He grabbed your waist as he led you inside, holding you close to him — it was a thing he did whenever you went to public together.

You immediately knew where to look for the book you wanted, but your eyes lingered on some new releases on your way over to the fantasy isle anyway, remembering you wanted some of them.

Rafe followed closely behind, texting Barry back on his phone about something.

There were two girls standing next to the fantasy isle and you heard them rant about how overpriced this specific book is and how unfair it is. You really couldn’t agree more. You reached for it and sighed. “Oh God,” you mumbled to yourself when you saw the price. Not thirty, but thirty fucking two.

“Right?!” One of the girls looked at you, obviously also pissed off. “I mean, how greedy can they get.” She ranted.

“Yeah I threw a tantrum when I saw how much it is this morning.” You laughed and she laughed as well, the other girl adding in her own complaining and you were chatting about it for a while, talking about the events of the first book in the series. Rafe was behind you for a while but he got annoyed with Barrys shit over the phone so he found a chair to sit on and let you talk to the girls.

“Right, um, I’ll get going.” You eventually said to the girls when you noticed Rafe was now just scrolling on his phone. You didn’t really wanna keep him waiting.

“Wait you’re actually buying it?!”

“Um,” you let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, well, no… my um, boyfriend’s getting it for me.” You admitted, you didn’t want to brag but you also didn’t want to say you’re getting it and take the credit for something he’s paying for.

“Oh wow, lucky.” One of the girls smiled, sneaking a glance at him. You could tell just from the look in her eyes that she found Rafe scary. Most people did.

“I’m jealous,” the other whispered, whether about your boyfriend or the book was not clear. You smiled and said your goodbye, and went over to Rafe who was now on his feet, leaning against the wall.

He furrowed his eyebrows when he saw you only came back with that one book. “Did you fucking read the whole thing already?”

“What do you mean?” You grinned, ignoring his grumpiness.

“I thought you were picking shit. What were you doing?”

“Oh no, I was chatting with some girls. Sorry. They also had a lot to say about the pricing.” You smiled at him apologetically.

“Well yeah, but go pick more books.” He said annoyed. He didn’t really mind waiting for you but he didn’t understand why you only grabbed one.

“No, baby, this one’s already overpriced as fuck I don’t wanna-“

“For Gods sake Y/N, we’re already here. Get more. Wanna spoil you baby.” He brushed his finger against your cheek and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at him and tried to hide your blush.

“Okay, alright. Can you—“

“Mhm,” he knew what you were asking immediately and grabbed the one you already had so you can go look at some more.

You were walking around the isles, checking out a bunch of books. You’d lie if you said you didn’t want almost every single one. As you were reading the back of some modern romance Rafe appeared behind you, he came closer to you and put one hand next to your head, leaning against you. You could feel his breath at the back of your neck and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Isn’t that just about sex?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, not noticing that the girls you were chatting to earlier were standing next to you and Rafe.

He seemed genuinely confused. “Why’d you read about it when we can do it?”

“Rafe,” you laughed again and turned around to face him, giving him a look, blushing when you noticed there were other people too.

“What? I’m serious. Bet I can make you feel better than some words on paper.” He brushed his hand against your back and you felt your whole body tense up… that is until you heard the girls next to you giggle.

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled, embarassment evident in your face. But Rafe just smirked, always eager to make you flustered.

“Besides,” you added, putting the book back, “you’d be surprised what a few words on paper can do to you.”

He gave you a susprised look, “Seriously?”

“Yeah where do you think I learned all my tricks?” You said jokingly and he grinned as well.

“Dunno, you were pretty innocent before I corrupted your pretty mind.” He mumbled next to your ear and nibbled at the skin of your exposed neck, softly kissing a mark. His mark.

Rafe smirked when he noticed the way your body reacted by leaning closer to him, and reached over you to grab the book you placed back. “So we’re buying it?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow. You were obviously intrigued by it, he thought.

“It doesn’t sound that interesting,” obvious lie, “’m gonna look for something else.”

“Get something else and this as well?”

“No, Rafey, books can get-“ but he just rolled his eyes and held it next to the first book you picked. Already made up his mind.

You knew he’d just get it no matter what you said. “Wait, it’s a sequel, can you—“ You looked up, not only was this store overpriced as fuck but they obviously also had zero respect for small people.

“Hm, here,” he leaned even closer, brushing his lips against your ear, trapping you a little, your back pressed against the bookshelf. “Which one?” He teased you with a smirk, his fingers brushing your hair aside to make the marks he left there the other day visible, his breath brushing over them.

Then he got the book you pointed at, leaving you shivering just a bit more. “Needing me so bad for everything…” he murmured happily.

Rafe figured quickly that you’d act all humble the whole time. You always picked up a book, read the back, smiled at it… and put it back. Every. Damn. Time. And after an hour of him waiting you had the audacity to come to him with only two books. He didn’t say anything, just got up, grabbed them from your hands and made his way to the cashier.

“Hey, princess, hold this for me.” He handed you the four books as he wanted to reach into his pocket for his wallet on the way. You took the books without questioning him, and he quickly grabbed most of the books he noticed you were checking earlier. He also grabbed the better ones, the ones that were more expensive… hardbacks? That’s what you called it, right? So quickly you didn’t even really get the chance to protest.

“Rafe-“

“Shut it,” he growled and this was the first time today he didn’t say that in a joking manner.

So you did.

“Everything alright, sir?” The cashier asked. Rafe gave her a quick nod and noticed they had some snacks — mostly chocolates — there. So he grabbed a few and added that to the pile of books.

He waited for the cashier to finish her job when you suddenly realised something.

“Rafe, wait.” You mumbled and ran off. He didn’t really understand but you came back with one more book a second later. He didn’t mind at all. Tho it didn’t really seem like your style, compared to all the other books… this one was colorful and seemed like some rom-com high school bullshit, but he didn’t question you.

“Your total’s $273, sir…”

You felt your body freeze. “Rafe you don’t-“

But he already pulled out his card without blinking an eye. “Told you to shut it.” He whispered and grabbed the bags with your books and threw his free arm around you, leading you out of the store.

He let out a sigh when you both exited the store and you were afraid for a second that it was because it really was too expensive.

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

Fuck.

“The worst sugar baby ever.” He added and gave you a relaxed smile.

Oh… that’s what he meant. You felt relief as you smiled at him as well, laughing at his nickname for you.

“Thank you, baby.” You mumbled and wrapped your arms around his waist as you both made your way to his bike.

“Mhm, anything for you. Anytime.” He kissed the top of your head and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Wheezie was already up when you both returned to Tannyhill. She was excited to see all the books you got so you sat down on a couch with her and showed her everything, telling her about each one. Rafe didn’t really care… plus all the fantasy terms started to give him a headache so he minded his own business, dealing with something on his phone again, occasionally resting his hand on your thigh.

“Oh yeah, this one’s for you. I knew you wanted it.”

That caught his attention. He looked up from his phone and saw Wheezies eyes sparkle as she flipped through the book you picked for her. He felt his heart warm up. You really were thinking of his little sister too… He’s so going you wife you up one day. Probably soon.

He sneaked his arm around your waist and squeezed you gently, thanking you.

[swordsandholly]

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

[st4rr-girrl]

Saviors

summary; When you have nowhere to stay- and you're falling tired- you turn to the Crescent Hotel to sleep. You roomed next to four people, and they help you when something traumatic happens in your hotel room.

warnings: Cussing, hella paranormal activity, major? injuries, anxiety attack. (i changed a few things from the video tho)

(a/n this post is kind of ass and yall keep liking it so ilysm but this is so shitty lmaoo i promise my writing had a glow-up)

pairing: colby brock x fem reader

Now playing; see how I circle / labyrinth

Up next; oblivion -grimes

Genesis-grimes

The sky started to darken, mirroring my negative mood. I sighed, feeling fatigue slowly start to take over my body.

Turning my black car's driving wheel, I drove into the 'Crescent Hotel" parking lot. I sighed, stepping out of the car and opening the trunk.

I grabbed an outfit, and shoved it into a bag before grabbing my purse and locking the car up.

I glanced up at the balcony of a room, seeing a dark figure stare at me intensely. My eyes widened and I felt goosebumps form on my skin.

The night was dark and cold, forcing a shiver make its way up my spine. I crossed my arms over my chest, as I shivered in my white dress. I approached the hotel doors, and quickly made my way inside, protecting myself from the cold misty air that surrounded me.

I walked in, feeling a heavy amount of energy fall onto my shoulders. I frowned deeply, before spotting an adorable black cat seated on the couch. I walked up to it and pet its soft fur, feeling my heart become warm. A smile grew on my face as I temporarily forgot about the dark, sad and longing feeling that lingered in the air, before walking up to the front desk.

"Hi, can I get a room for one night, please?" I offered a kind smile to the lady seated behind the counter. She returned the smile, and handed me a room key. 'Room 201'

"You'll be staying at room 201. That'll be 130$." My eyes widened at the price, but I was desperate for sleep. I opened my purse and grabbed my wallet, pulling out 150$.

"Keep the change." I smiled, collecting my stuff before heading up the spiraled stairs.

I was walking down a hallway, when I heard a faint "Damn baby! Back it up on over here, if ya will." In an accent. I turned around, fear gripping onto my chest. There was nobody there. I was completely alone. I frowned deeply, before rushing back to the stairs.

It took me a while, but I finally made it to my hotel room. I sighed happily, despite the feeling of sadness surrounding me.

I noticed a brunette boy leaving hotel room 202 and I smiled kindly at him. He returned the smile, as my eyes wandered to the camera located in his left hand. I tilted my head and raised a brow a little bit.

"Oh. I'm sorry." He laughed. "I'm a youtuber. Me and my friends are recording a video."

I was still confused. "What's so special about this place?" I looked around. I acknowledged the negative and sad energy around me, but shrugged it off.

"You don't know?" He asked me curiously.

"Know what?" I was a lot more confused now.

"This hotel is haunted." My eyes widened. it makes sense now. The figure on the balcony and the sad energy around here. No wonder.

"That makes sense." I shrugged, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

"Why? Did you see something?" He asked me, concern swirling behind his blue eyes.

"Yeah I saw a figure on a balcony, but i just thought it was a person. Though it was creepy enough to give me goosebumps. It also feels sad. And angry here. Like there some sort of longing feeling. I also got catcalled by something that wasn't there. " I explained, giggling a bit at the end.

"Do you mind if i record you explaining that? If not that's alright. But it would be great to let the fans know."

"Sure, Mr. Popular." I smirked teasingly. He rolled his eyes playfully and turned on the camera and angled it at me.

"Okay so tell us what happened again...?" He trailed, searching for something.

"Y/n." I smiled.

"Okay so tell us what happened, Y/n."

"Soo, when I arrived here, I had no clue it was haunted until this handsome stranger told me." I smiled and winked jokingly. "But before I came in here, I saw a figure standing on a balcony and it was just.... staring at me. It gave me goosebumps. And after that, the second I stepped foot into the hotel the energy surrounding me felt, sad. Like previous people here were longing for something. And a bit of anger was hidden beneath the longing and sadness. I also got catcalled, but when I turned around I was alone. Whatever happened here must've been pretty bad." I explained for a second time but in more detail. "I still don't know what happened here, I just know that it's haunted."

I smiled at the boy behind the camera. "I'm colby, by the way." He mirrored my smile.

"Thanks for letting me know what I was getting myself into, Colby." I giggled as he put the camera down.

"Yeah, Sure." He laughed, his deep voice sending butterflies to my stomach. Heat rises to my cheek before he continued. "If you need anything me and my friend, Sam, will be in here. And maybe our other two friends. You're also welcome to join us, we're gonna be ghost hunting."

"Yeah, I'll consider it." I smiled kindly once more. "Thanks, Colby."

"No problem." he waved, returning the smile before walking down the hall. I opened my hotel room, rushing in and throwing my bag on my bed.

I sighed happily, finally being able to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and I shivered a bit before trying to push the thought to the back of my mind.

I changed out of my white dress, and replaced it for pajama bottoms and a long sleeve shirt with holes for my thumbs.

I put fresh socks on before turning out the light and quickly hopping into the big bed.

I saw something in the corner, just before fatigue took over my body.

--

'Wake up' A females voice whispered in my ear.

I shot out of bed quickly, my eyes wide. Sweat dripped down the side of my head as I looked around my room. "Hello??" I said out loud. No response.

I shrugged it off as my imagination, and tried to fall back asleep.

—

I rubbed my eyes, tiredly sitting up.

“Why do I keep waking up.” I whispered to myself, picking up a clock that rested on a nightstand to the left of me.

“3:33.” I read out loud. “Isn’t that an Angel number?”

I shrugged it off, before I heard a mumbling. My head shot up and stared into the darkness that lie before me.

I squinted, trying to see into the black fog. I saw a figure. Staring at me. Menacingly. My eyes widened as I froze in fear.

A faint “What do you want?” Tore from my parted lips.

It didn’t respond, to nobody’s surprise, yet still stood there.

I sat in the king sized bed, slowly building up to courage to make a run for it.

When the courage was built, I leapt out of bed and ran for the door, only to be flung away from it.

I hit the wall, with a loud ‘thud,’ before landing on the floor.

Tears welled up in my eyes after I groaned in pain. My back was definitely gonna be bruised.

I crawled for the door as fast as I could, but got violently dragged by an invisible force. I dragged my nails against the carpet.

Once it let me go I quickly rushed to stand up but got aggressively pushed against the wall. The side of my face slammed into the wall, as an unbearable pain shot through my cheek at the violent contact. A Bible flew through the air and hit me in the face. Blood dripped down my nose as I cried in pain. I heard loud knocking on my door and my eyes widened.

“Y/n!? Are you okay?!” A familiar voice shouted.

I tried to get to the door but cried out when a sharp, stinging pain shot through my back.

I sobbed, feeling myself get dragged once more before the entity let go. I jumped up and ran to the door, flinging it open. I was met with four concerned faces, three of them being un-familiar.

I sobbed into my hands, as the traumatic event played over and over in my head.

“What the fuck happened?!” Colby asked.

“Are you okay?!” The blonde boy next to him asked.

“Th-there was something in there!!” I cried out as a blonde girl rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Come to our room for a second. We’ll help you and you can tell us everything.” A black haired girl said, her brows furrowed in worry.

I nodded, following the two girls as the two boys checked my hotel room for anyone.

We entered their hotel room and I sat down on the red sofa.

The blonde girl brought back a tissue and a cold water bottle.

I used the tissue for my nose, after giving a small thanks. I placed the water bottle on the huge bruise on my cheek.

“I’m kris.”

“Celina. And the other boys are Sam and Colby.” Celina said.

“Th-thank you guys.. so much.” You smiled gratefully.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“I-I don’t know… there was this thing and it-it threw me around like I was a fucking rag doll.” I joked a bit, before wincing from the pain radiating on my back.

“I-I think it scratched my back.” I added. Colby came over to me and asked if he could raise my shirt. I nodded and turned around while he lifted it up.

Though I couldn’t see, they all had wide eyes and opened mouths.

“Holy shit!” Sam exclaimed. “Y/n do you mind if I record this?” He asked kindly, okay with either answer.

“You can, I don’t mind, it just hurts really bad.” I said in a pained voice. “Colby can you take a picture of it and show me?” I asked softly.

He said yes before snapping a picture of it. I stared at the picture in shock, a giant bruise on my side and three, long, bloody scratch marks starting from my upper back and ending right before the waistband of my shorts.

“Holy shit” i mimicked sam just as he started recording my injuries. I turned around and showed the rest.

“Do you wanna stay in our room for the rest of the night?” Colby offered.

“Yes please.” I said, a pleading look lingered in my eyes. “I don’t wanna go back into that room.” Tears welled up in my eyes as Celina and Kris both side-hugged me.

“It’s ok, Y/n you don’t have to.” Kris said, her brows furrowed.

“You’re safe with us. Especially the boys cause they’re a lot stronger than us.” Celina joked, attempting to lighten the mood. I laughed a long, wiping my tears.

“Thanks guys.” I said gratefully.

“Anytime.” The group postponed further exploration of the building so they could make sure I was alright.

Celina and Kris called it a night, heading to their own room to sleep or try to contact anything.

I started to get sleepy while Colby was treating my wounds. “I’m tired.” I admitted.

“I’m almost done, just try to stay up for one more minute.” He applied ointment to the scratches and ice to the bruises.

I was definitely gonna tell the hotel about this in the morning. Even though some people wouldn’t believe me, it was worth a shot.

Once Colby was done in informed me of it and I crawled under the sheets and lied in the middle of the bed.

Sam and Colby lied on either side of me, and yet I still unconsciously cuddled closer to Colby.

“Goodnight.” I sighed, feeling safe with the two boys I had only just met.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

—

The end.

[maraskywalkers]

okay so I was on a bit of a "soap survives mw3" soapghost kick & then got on a nikprice kick so now I've been thinking a lot about a "soap lives but is taken by makarov" winter soldier esque au where nik learns soap is alive & in makarov's clutches & ultimately helps rescue him but he doesn't immediately tell Price & the 141 so there's some drama & tension about it

okay so like he doesn't say anything because at first it's only rumors right like very vague underground conspiracy theory type stuff so he's not gonna say anything because he doesn't want to get their hopes up or drag them into some dangerous obsession that could ultimately be fruitless

bc I also headcanon that price goes to nik after killing shepard and the two of them end up spending the night together like you know they have a very intense passionate night where price is actually the most vulnerable he'll allow himself to be & it's emotional & intense & heartbreaking & beautiful okay you know all those things

and anyway it's relevant bc nik has seen where price is at right like what makarov has done to his captain what losing soap has done to him & also the 141 bc price expressed his concerns for them with gaz trying to hold them together while ghost is slowly slipping further away from them

so ok he doesn't say anything but keeps his ears open to anything & ofc starts getting more & more pieces so eventually he actually investigates & then he contacts laswell like this could actually be something but we need actual proof & she's on board even tho the whole thing sounds impossible & they do get their proof that soap is alive & makarov has him

but soap is not soap anymore

he's been tortured & brainwashed a la winter soldier style, he doesn't know who he is or have any memories of the 141, he's just been turned into a weapon for makarov to use however he wants

so nik & laswell decide not tell price, maybe it's more laswell than nik (she's worried this might actually break them & they're barely holding it together as is?) but they ultimately agree & make a deal to find a way to bring soap back & bring soap home before they do

and I'm not totally sure what I want but I like the idea of them getting him back & he winds up staying with nik for a while in like a safehouse or some hidden location while they help him and want to reach out to price & the 141 like as soon as they him secured at the safehouse but they aren't able to right away like maybe the 141 got a lead on makarov so they're on the other side of the world & had to go dark or something like there's a disruption in their ability to communicate

but makarov can still finds out that soap has been not only discovered but rescued before nik or laswell can get the 141 bc like it's not something they can drop in a phone call they're trying to tell them in person & everything you know?

but anyway I kinda like them finding out thru makarov bc he thinks that it's them like he knows they're all a team or whatever & he knows who has soap so he makes some sort of comment about him and price is like wtf are you talking about & bc makarov is a sadistic bastard he laughs all like oh you don't know & idk it's a whole thing

but so then! ofc they get a hold of laswell & nik & it all comes out & it's terrible bc the 141 is hurt & angry but like price is esp hurt by nik not telling him bc he was there after & what they talked about & how price had opened himself to nik about losing soap & nik is like I wanted to tell you but I had to be sure I could bring him back to you first & also like "I didn't know then, I didn't know that night, I swear to you" and it's all emotional & tense but they end up making up (and eventually making love again ofc)

and oh actually I think I had the idea of it being soap eventually like calling price & gaz & ghost out on being mad but probably moreso ghost I think actually bc price works thru it with nik & laswell on a more personal level bc they have history there the three of them & gaz does too but it's different & ofc he is upset but I think he'd be able to understand a bit more whereas ghost who is already not great at feelings is like still reeling from soap being alive & being kept from him by a friend/ally (past trust issues popping up again) that he hasn't even begun to process soap being tortured & brainwashed yet so soap has to bring him around

like a soap who's been slowly coming back to himself with help but maybe he's not totally there but enough that he gets it you know he appreciates what nik & laswell have done for him & are still doing & he's able to offer perspective like "it was awful Lt I think if you'd seen me it've killed ya" (ghost would have some comment about like already being dead or how losing soap almost killed him, you know something dramatic & devastating & borderline romantic all at once) and eventually they mend all the rifts & everything

and I focused on nikprice here but it is equally in my head as a soapghost story like soap is never fully gone so the heartbreak of remembering but not remembering & recovering & dealing with the fallout of having been makarov's & all of the guilt & shame he'd feel (uncalled for obvs but he'd still grapple with it) and like knowing simon before he fully remembers him and just being heartbreaking

and ghost too like I have a line in my head when price is confronting nik that's along the lines of "we almost lost simon" bc ghost was not handling his grief well and like i can't decide if they were pre relationship or established relationship but I'm a sucker for the ghost hadn't ever said I love you out loud to soap yet thing so it's especially like gut punch

but ultimately a happy ending ofc for all of them!! like bucky barnes soap gets his mind, his memories, himself back and he heals & so does ghost & the rest of the 141 & soapghost probably get married bc I love that and nikprice actually acknowledge they're in love & committed to each other

so yeah if you read all of that wow thank you sorry if it wasn't totally coherent I've played mw1 & mw2 but haven't finished mw3 so sorry if things are inaccurate or just like weird & silly

I have no current plans to actually write this fic bc I don't have the confidence to do it justice or the motivation to try right now but like who knows??

but! if you're a fic writer & you wanna take it & run with it please do!!!! just let me know so I can read it!! same for fan artists!

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Yooo this is not a request but it’s an idea and it came to me in a dream so I must share 🤭

(It’s kinda dark tho)

Okay so after Ultron, Wanda’s lost everything. Her brother, her home. So when someone *cough cough* dark Natasha comes along one day, suddenly claiming that Wanda was hers and hers alone, Wanda thought nothing of it. She needs to be loved, and Natasha was offering that. So fast forward a bit right, they’re dating. And Nat never lets Wanda see her dark or sadistic tendencies, not outright. She treats the witch with love and affection, but she’s just firm enough to make sure she follows the rules, like always listen to her, don’t leave the house without permission, and ect. And Wanda was happy to do so. After all, she had Nat. Why would she want to leave? So R, a new avenger, stumbles upon their relationship and upon seeing it’s not healthy, tries to convince Wanda of that. As expected, Natasha doesn’t take too kindly to these attempts. Wanda is hers after all. So she kidnaps R, with the full intent of torturing and killing her, but she’s like mmmm R’s kinda cute and Wanda gets kinda lonely when I have to leave for missions so what the hell. But before she can let R have any type of contact with Wanda, or anyone for that matter, she needs to be re-trained. And if Nat can corrupt a powerful witch into being dependent, submissive, and docile, she’ll have no problem doing the same to R.

Lmao sorry this was long but I had to get it out. Again, not a request, just an idea I had! 💕

Becoming Yours

Dark!Natasha x Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Natasha is possessive over Wanda in an unhealthy way. When you try to come between them things take a turn.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Dark themes (kidnapping, torture)

A/N: I've never written something like this so I hope it's okay!

After the fall of Ultron, Wanda Maximoff was adrift in a sea of grief. She had lost everything: her brother, her home, her sense of purpose. Her heart ached with the weight of it all, a hollow space where her twin once stood. Days bled into nights, and the world seemed to blur around the edges.

Then one evening, as the shadows grew long, Natasha Romanoff appeared in her life. There was a darkness in her eyes, a fierce, possessive edge that sent shivers down Wanda’s spine. Natasha’s presence was commanding, intoxicating in its intensity.

“You’re mine, Wanda,” Natasha whispered, her voice a soft, seductive promise. Natasha’s hand caressed Wanda’s cheek to which Wanda melted against. The touch of another for the first time in months. “And I’ll never let you go.”

Wanda, desperate for an anchor, for anything to fill the void inside her, found herself unable to resist. She craved love, needed it like a drowning person needs air, and Natasha was offering her just that. The lines between right and wrong blurred as Wanda allowed herself to be enveloped by Natasha’s embrace, surrendering to the fierce passion and the promise of belonging.

In the depths of her soul, Wanda knew she was making a dangerous choice, but in her brokenness, she clung to Natasha’s love like a lifeline, allowing herself to be consumed by the darkness.

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

Natasha treated Wanda with a kind of reverence, showering her with affection and care. She was the steady presence Wanda had craved in her life, always there to hold her, to whisper soothing words when nightmares of Sokovia or Ultron haunted her sleep. But Natasha was also firm, ensuring Wanda followed certain rules, ones that she insisted were for Wanda’s own good.

"Remember, always listen to me, Wanda," Natasha would say, her voice gentle but unyielding. "It's for your safety."

Wanda nodded, feeling the warmth of Natasha's hand against her cheek. "I understand, Nat. I trust you."

"Good girl," Natasha murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Wanda was happy to comply. After all, she had Natasha. Why would she ever want to leave? Natasha's rules felt like a small price to pay for the love and security she provided. Wanda never left the house without Natasha's permission, and she always made sure to check in, just as Natasha had asked. It became second nature, a routine she didn’t question.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, Natasha's arm wrapped protectively around Wanda's shoulders, Wanda looked up and smiled. "I love this, Nat. Being here with you. It feels...right."

Natasha's eyes softened, and she stroked Wanda's hair. "It is right, Wanda. We're meant to be together."

Wanda nestled closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment. She didn't see the flicker of possessiveness in Natasha's eyes, nor did she notice the way Natasha's grip tightened ever so slightly. All she felt was the warmth of Natasha's love, and that was enough.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Wanda’s world shrank to the confines of their home, but she didn’t mind. Natasha was her world now. She didn’t need anything or anyone else. The occasional moments when Natasha’s firmness bordered on something darker, Wanda brushed aside. Natasha was only looking out for her, protecting her.

"Wanda," Natasha said one day, her tone serious. "I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," Wanda replied without hesitation.

"Never question my decisions. They're always for your benefit. Can you do that?"

Wanda nodded, her eyes filled with trust. "I promise, Nat."

"Good," Natasha said, her expression softening into a smile. "You make me so happy, Wanda."

"And you make me happy," Wanda whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

As Wanda rested her head on Natasha's shoulder, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was loved, she was safe, and in Natasha's arms, she had found her home. Little did she realize the delicate web she was entangled in, one spun with threads of love, control, and unspoken darkness.

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

You had joined the Avengers not long after the fall of Ultron, eager to make a difference and help where you could. It didn't take long to notice the peculiar dynamic between Natasha and Wanda. At first glance, they seemed like a perfect couple, but as you observed more closely, something felt off. Natasha's control over Wanda was unnerving, and the way Wanda seemed to shrink into herself whenever Natasha was around set off alarm bells in your mind.

One day, you found Wanda alone in the common room, her eyes distant and filled with a sadness that tugged at your heart. You took a deep breath and approached her.

"Wanda, can we talk?" you asked gently, sitting down next to her.

She looked at you with a small, forced smile. "Sure, Y/N. What's up?"

"I've been noticing some things...about you and Natasha," you began cautiously. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Are you happy with how things are?"

Wanda's smile faltered, and she glanced away. "Natasha takes care of me. She's...protective. It's just her way."

"But Wanda," you pressed, "it seems like she's more than just protective. You deserve to have your own freedom, to make your own choices without fear."

Before Wanda could respond, Natasha walked into the room, her expression darkening as she saw the two of you together. "Y/N," she said in a dangerously calm voice, "I need to speak with you. Now."

You felt a chill run down your spine but nodded. "Sure, Natasha."

She led you to a secluded part of the base, her grip on your arm like a vise. Once out of earshot, she turned to you, her eyes blazing with anger. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"I'm just trying to help," you replied, keeping your voice steady. "Wanda deserves to be happy and free."

Natasha's lips curled into a cold smile. "Wanda is mine. She doesn't need your help, Y/N. But it seems you need a lesson in minding your own business."

Before you could react, Natasha struck, and darkness enveloped you.

When you awoke, you were in a dimly lit room, bound to a chair. Natasha stood before you, her arms crossed and a predatory gleam in her eyes.

"You've been a thorn in my side, Y/N," she said, circling you slowly. "But I've been thinking. Wanda does get lonely when I'm away. Maybe you can be of use after all."

You glared at her. "I'll never be a part of this. Wanda deserves better than to be controlled by you."

Natasha chuckled darkly. "Oh, you'll come around. If I can make a powerful witch like Wanda dependent, submissive, and docile, you'll be no trouble at all."

She moved closer, her face inches from yours. "First, though, I need to re-train you. Can't have you trying to contact anyone or running off, now can I?"

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

Days turned into weeks, and Natasha subjected you to a relentless regime of psychological and physical conditioning. She alternated between harsh punishments and twisted rewards, breaking down your resistance bit by bit. The isolation and constant manipulation were almost unbearable, but you clung to the thought of Wanda, the determination to free her from Natasha's grip fueling your will to resist.

Natasha watched your struggle with a cold, calculating gaze. "You're strong, Y/N," she admitted one day, a hint of grudging respect in her voice. "But everyone has a breaking point."

She leaned in, her voice a whisper of menace. "And I will find yours."

Despite the darkness, you held on to a glimmer of hope. You had to believe that somewhere within Wanda, the strong, independent woman you admired still existed. If you could find a way to reach her, to show her the truth, perhaps together you could break free from Natasha's control. For now, you had to survive, endure, and wait for the right moment to turn the tables on Natasha Romanoff.

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

Despite your initial resolve, Natasha's relentless conditioning eventually found your breaking point. She was a master manipulator, using a combination of psychological and physical tactics to wear you down. Isolation, sleep deprivation, and the constant pressure of her presence slowly eroded your resistance. Her voice, once a source of anger, became a guide, a comfort in the dark. She played on your fears, your loneliness, and your need for connection until you began to depend on her.

The day you broke was marked by a quiet acceptance. Natasha knew the exact moment your spirit gave in, your eyes losing that last spark of defiance. She smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes, as she gently caressed your cheek.

"There, there," she murmured. "It's all right, Y/N. You don't have to fight anymore. You're safe now."

You nodded numbly, your world narrowing to the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand. The idea of rebellion seemed distant, almost impossible. Natasha had become your anchor, and you found a strange comfort in the structure she provided.

Natasha brought you into her fold with Wanda, and the two of you became bound by your shared dependence on her. Wanda, ever the empathetic soul, welcomed you with open arms, relieved to have someone who understood her situation. You and Wanda grew close, finding solace in each other’s company, both tethered to Natasha in your own ways.

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

Life with Natasha was a blend of affection and control. She treated both of you with a kind of twisted love, ensuring your needs were met while reinforcing her dominance. She showered you with affection, making you feel valued and cherished, but there were always rules to follow.

"Remember, my loves," Natasha would say, her voice soft but firm, "I do this to protect you. You need me, and I need you."

You and Wanda nodded obediently, grateful for her attention and care. The rules became second nature: always listen to Natasha, never leave without permission, and always show her your loyalty. The outside world faded into the background, your lives revolving around Natasha and the home she had created for you.

One evening, as you and Wanda sat together on the couch, Natasha watching with a satisfied smile, you felt a pang of contentment. Wanda leaned against you, her hand in yours, and you felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known before.

"I love you both," Natasha said, her voice filled with possessive pride. "We're a family, and I'll never let anyone come between us."

You and Wanda echoed her sentiments, your voices blending in a quiet affirmation of your bond. The outside world seemed distant, almost irrelevant. You had Natasha, and in her control, you found a strange kind of peace.

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

As time passed, the dynamics solidified. Natasha’s control was absolute, her presence a constant reminder of your dependence on her. She was careful never to show her darker tendencies outright, but the underlying threat was always there. You and Wanda followed her rules without question, your lives intertwined in a delicate balance of love and submission.

In those rare moments of clarity, you wondered what might have been if you had resisted longer, if you had found a way to free Wanda and yourself. But those thoughts were fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the reality of your situation. Natasha had molded you both into the perfect companions, reliant on her for everything, bound by a mixture of fear and affection.

And so, you stayed, locked in a dance of submission and control, your world defined by Natasha's rules and the strange, twisted love she provided.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[shyravenns]

Talking with my friend @injestedsoap about what it would be like to date the 141 guys~

Ghost: Hesitant, and would be extremely reluctant to date a civilian. I feel like he's a short term relationship kinda guy, but he's a gentleman when he's with you and he tries his best to make the experience at least somewhat memorable. Charming in his own quiet way and is a sucker for someone who not only gets his lame jokes, but laughs at them. Is more than a bit guarded esp if he's with you during a mission, but he can skate around an unwelcome conversation just fine. Not a perfect boyfriend, but he tries even if you have to pry him out of his shell little by little.

Gaz: Almost tries too hard to be perfect and normal. He knows how busy he can be and the time you spend together seems to get less and less. He has a bad habit of overcompensating. Big romantic dinners, long days spent in bed, and him trying so very hard to be attentive to your issues (even if he can't relate to them). Has more anxiety than he let's on esp when he's not in the field. Patient and understanding, but I feel like he needs someone who makes him stop and calm down. Chill in a very quard dog way, but friendly overall.

Price: Same with Gaz, but he can be distant. That doesn't mean he doesn't love you, but it's been ingrained within him to keep his private life separate from his personal. workaholic and an ex alcoholic, he tries his best to be as mentally present with you as possible.He feels guilty 90% of the time when he sees a house that looks lived in, but lonely. Would def be insecure about how much he doesn't think he deserves you, and tries to buy your forgiveness (even if there's nothing to forgive) with gifts. Bit of a hopeless romantic, but you'll never hear it from him. Would come home with a puppy for you tho

Soap: Falls in love fast and quick, and burns out twice as fast. Can be a bit intense at first, but he's loyal. Weirdly observant, and is the type to bring you a present from some forgotten conversation betweenn the two of you. Much more comfortable being FWB with someone as relationships aren't his go to. Compared to the others, he's more well adjusted to being in a relationship and he's a good boyfriend all things considering. Struggles to relate to civillians at times, and is used to being around soldiers. Can be distant and a bit dismissive, but he doesn't always mean it THAT way. Def a lust at first sight to oh I wanna keep you forever type guy

[shotmrmiller]

So I was reading your Price color soulmate au and...

What if...

His wife is ALSO your soulmate?

Or what if it's a True Triangle thing with your soulmate being Price but Price's soulmate being Price's wife but her soulmate is YOU?!

Or what if neither of them are soulmates but both just gave up on finding their soulmate either because they both haven't found it or Price haven't found his and his wife's soulmate died?

nah too easy. i like a real gut wrenching angsty story esp when things just don't go your way cuz now we gotta continue trucking on. feels satisfying in a way like his wife not being an unbearable bitch either? just a woman who married your fated but it's not like anyone can see the red string that ties you and your her husband together.

makes it ache real nice and bittersweet endings are so good for my soul but i'm just extremely biased to hurt/no comfort

i have an ending in mind that just kinda shows how it all wraps up and yknow as they say: misery loves company.

(tknow what would be sick tho? having that splash of color soulmate au but with that 141 betrayal thing and one of they guys admits that you're their responsibility (to get info out of cuz soulmates) and at the first crack of bone, the color goes out anyway. ooooo a heartbreak so intense the connection is cut off forcibly. HOW TO REGAIN THAT BACK once the truth comes to light, i wonder?)

[caffstrink]

Have you ever thought about what kindof musical themes would be associated with your OCs? Like, what their theme tune or leitmotif might be played on, that kind of thing?

First off im so sorry for not replying earlier ive kept this in my drafts for like a year

Rubs my hand evily like a little hungry fly YEEEESSS YESSSS YESSSSSSSSSS

Honestly tho i dont rly have much (if any) musical knowledge to be able to use precise or specific terms for musical theory stuff or the right name for certain instruments, so overall i can only try describe the ~vibe~ for what each character/setting would be, also since i was given the opportunity to talk about the topic ill just go ham and talk way more than what was asked bc honestly what are the chances of being asked about this in the future? Hashtag yolo 2012

This is gonna get long so i apologize in advance to those who dont care. ill try to clump characters together by emojis, first emoji for setting/universe and second for character

👼💖For cupid/arisu i imagine music box notes, happy pop and "sparkly" over-the-top cheery music like magical girl anime openings, one of the main musical inspirations for her and a song i like to listen to when i draw her is pururin and dokuro-chan's op

👼💚Levia-tan/himari would also have the music box motif but in lower notes, a song much more subtle than cupid's but slowly building up energy over time until it's ready to snap.

🍄🐐 Juandice would be folk music, but often getting off-key as to give an unsettling tone. A song i think that enclapsulates his vibe perfectly is AJJ's A Song Dedicated To The Memory Of Stormy The Rabbit (ive been meaning to do a juan animatic to this song for a while now but i never get around to it)

🍄⛪ father rot id like it to be very unsettling off-key strings. Maybe a little bit of carnival sounding music but very very faintly. Kinda giving you a vibe the guy isnt good news but at the same time there's something unnatural about him it just makes you curious

🪐🛸 ak-47 happy cheery chiptune music, voice synthesizers (aka vocaloids etc) and breakcore, something like Anamanaguchi, METAROOM, pinocchio-p's older music (hello there earthling, nina, loney ufo)

🪐🍀 clovers is a tough one, i can imagine it being a song structured in three parts where the first is the normal theme, something more old school sounding like DS soundfont. Think pokemon BW's soundtrack. The second part is a more raw, loud, incomprehensible type of music like Shinsei Kamattechan, specifically Ikareta NEET. Third part would be a much quieter, sadder version of the first part melody. Think of how Snowy during genocide route in Undertale.

😈🗡 Alma would be metal instruments, specifically guitar riffs

😈🍥 carol would be trash metal/grunge, bass

😈🏥 cirrus would be either drums or piano. I like Unreasonable Behavior from offgame and Alone In Town from silent hill as examples

😈🦇 fontini would be music box and intense sounding music. At the price of oblivion from homestuck is a good example

😈🦟 dominic would be spanish guitar.

😈⚡paloma indie rock/acid rock guitar

😈⚔ rouxinol.. im not sure. Something very intense and intimidating sounding, but i dont know instruments that much. For now i can just say in my mind it sounds like something out of carpenter bruts music

😈💎 lyre would be a specific genre of pop that idk the name. Venus by lady gaga, heavun by hemlock springs, glorious by muse.

👿🐦 corbin would be among "instruments that arent instruments" like industrial noise music. Music that sounds like it was composed entirely out of regular warehouse tools. Dentist drills included

This isnt all of my ocs but if theyre not included then its bc i dont have much in mind musically for them

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Empty Chairs At Empty Tables (Les Miserables)

Phantom faces at the window/Phantom shadows on the floor/Empty chairs at empty tables/Where my friends will meet no more/Oh my friends, my friends/Don't ask me what your sacrifice was for/Empty chairs at empty tables/Where my friends will sing no more

There's a grief that can't be spoken/There's a pain goes on and on/Empty chairs at empty tables/Now my friends are dead and gone

"In a musical about sad thing after sad thing, this one hits the hardest. I once saw a production of it in Budapest where the stage of the song before it had women in big white dresses literally turning around and around and then disappearing to leave the actor playing Marius alone on the stage and it was just so jarring and heartbreaking"

"This musical never fails to make me cry. Les Mis was the first musical that made me so passionate about the medium, and it still is my favorite. The story is heartbreaking, and it really fucks you up (especially if you're attached to the characters). About the song, at this moment (spoiler alert, I guess?) the revolution just failed (the people didn't come to support the movement, they were fighting alone), and everyone that participated pretty much died. Marius only survived because Jean Valjean saved him, and he finds out afterwards that ALL of his friends were murdered by the french police and that he's the only one left alive. He's drowning in survivor's guilt and on the memories of his dead friends, and is singing in the room they used to have their meetings when they were planning the rebellion. It fucks you up because you spent part of the musical getting attached to all of the Les Mis and you want them to succeed with the barricade, so this really rubs their deaths in your face (and you see Marius getting really fucked up over it)."

"Dude is singing about how his friends all died. If someone says they watched a production of Les Mis and didn't cry at this song they are lying"

Poll runner: I saw Les Mis live a while or so ago and holy fuck... it is the ultimate fuck-you-up musical. This song is especially devastating. It's all about survivor's guilt and the price we pay for a chance at revolution. The way they staged it fucking RUINED me, they had Marius surrounded by all the dead characters, all holding candles, and they slowly raised their candles like glasses, before blowing them out until only Marius was left onstage, candle raised to the sky. It was, as my director friend said, a picture perfect moment. Anyway, this song is absolutely devastating.

Hurt (Johnny Cash)

What have I become/My sweetest friend/Everyone I know goes away/In the end/And you could have it all/My empire of dirt/I will let you down/I will make you hurt

"I think this is the classic fuck-you-up song. It's a cover, sure, but all of the pain and regrets from cash's long life, his long career just come pouring out through his voice. There is so much genuine emotion and intensity that could only come from Cash. I started tearing up just thinking about it. I don't even know that much about Johnny Cash, but you don't need to, to feel this song. Its true art"

“When the guitar picks up and the song gets faster it just stirs something in you. Coupled with heartbreak of those lyrics... It's a classic for a reason."

"Sad. very edgy tho."

[pinkcannibal]

so i’m thinking that marilyn must be like… super rich, right? i mean from the looks of the Gates Mansion in the show, and the formal clothes the family were wearing in old family portrait, it’s safe to assume that the Gates were pretty loaded people. And the normal conclusion is that all of their money got inherited by Marilyn after they died. i guess im asking if you could share any personal headcanons/thoughts you have on rich!Mari? Like I just imagine her taking Reader out to this super fancy restaurant for their one year anniversary and Reader nearly passes out when she sees the prices. But Marilyn picks up the tab like "oh no don’t worry honey it’s no big deal" 😭 Idk Idk I just think it’s a fun lil headcanon to ponder about

oh im literallyyyy going to touch on this in my fic! she 100% inherited the gates fortune and mansion, they were canonically loaded and its real to me marilyn grew up as a rich girl <3 kdkkdfk like marilyn buying/paying for everything when it comes to reader in the fic is definitely coming up.

like marilyn to me has so much money to spare, and now that she finally has someone in her life she adores that she can spend it on??? yeah shes a menace

marilyn will buy reader high quality lingerie just to rip it off. will not care if she tears the lace bra in her need to bite and nip to her girls tits. and reader, her whole life used to not having pretty expensive things, will always blush and whine bc she feels soooo bad when they do get ruined. marilyn does not care, she buys her more the next day <33

if reader starts to get shy/protest on how much marilyn spends on her, this woman will distract her by going down on her and eating her out until she knows her sugar mommy tendencies are incurable <33

plus, shes giving reader everything she missed out on as a child. an adult in her life that will get them things without question and not ever call her selfish for it, and it heals both of them! marilyn gets to provide. reader gets to want things and not feel guilty

if reader is staring at something on her phone intensely while scrolling? yeah marilyns peaking over her shoulder and already putting an order in for it. not without teasing tho. "wow, sweet girl. thats so pretty. want mommy to buy it for you?" she doesnt have to ask, she definitely is, but its so worth it to see reader squirm in her hold and blush and force reader to ask for it.

like you said, treats her to theeee most nicest restaurants. lets reader get whatever she wants. it takes a few tries and dates together for reader to feel comfy ordering expensive things. she gets sooo dumbed down and needy tho when marilyn feeds her bites and runs her hand up her girls thigh <33

reader is well aware of how this looks. if you told her a year ago she'd have a sugar mommy milf hot teacher gf she'd think ur insane. so when marilyn starts to gift things if reader gets a good grade/achieves an accolade or something similar? it makes her soo submissive. just: "good job honey, you did so well on this exam. which do you want, those earrings or the ring you were eyeing yesterday?" and reader just stares w puppy eyes, blushing, like. "oh. um. both? <33" (she obvs gets both)

[just-a-carrot]

I think you mentioned once that all the themes for our wonderland kinda came to you as the story progressed and it’s like??? DUDE??? THAT IS SO IMPRESSIVE considering this game had not only me but my FRIEND in tears by the end of it because of how important the things told in this story were to us and how closely to home they hit for us. I was a wet BABY after orlam’s chapter because he reminds me so much of myself and we have a very similar past and trauma, like I felt so fucking SEEN in that chapter and every time it would touch on his backstory and his anger and resentment towards being abused by the people who he was /stuck with/ who were /supposed to be his friends/.

like bro called me out in ways I didn’t know were POSSIBLE and you’re just gonna sit here and tell me that you were like “haha maybe I’ll add this in :)” CARROT DO YOU REALIZE THAT YOU ARE AN ACTUAL FUCKING WIZARD AND NEED TO BE STUDIED.

YOU MAKE ONE OF THE BEST GAMES I HAVE EVER PLAYED WITH CHARACTERS THAT FEEL LIKE HUMAN BEINGS AND GIVE ME THE IMMEDIATE URGE TO GIVE YOU THE ENTIRE CONTENTS OF MY BANK ACCOUNT AS SOON AS I FINISHED THE GAME AND YOU HAVE THE GALL TO SLAP A “FREE GAME” PRICE ON IT AND SAY “haha I just like making games I don’t need to make money off of it :)” CARROT I AM SHAKING YOU SO HARD RN. CARROT MY MIND IS SPINNING HOW CAN YOU BE THIS NICE AND GENEROUS?????????? /lh

I actually seethe about once a day knowing that I can’t give you any of my hard-earned cash for like merch or the game, period. Carrot playing this game for free is like receiving a free winning lottery ticket on the STREET like I didn’t even DO ANYTHING and you’re just gonna give me something that CHANGED MY LIFE DRASTICALLY and PERMANENTLY ALTERED MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY???????????????????? carrot I’m frothing at the mouth rn. carrot I’m insane. I fucking love this game so much bro you are a gift bro

yes....I would say many key parts of the overall story didn't really form until I was actively working on it. many of the arcs were just kinda skeletons where I knew essentially what I wanted to happen but with not much filled in, and then everything would just start flooding my brain once I reached it to start figuring out all the pieces and come up with new ideas and scenes along the way

I could not tell you how I was able to bring some of it together so well I honestly surprised myself at times lol...

I guess maybe because I had the core characters down so even when they'd show me new things about themselves in the new directions the story threads were taking it was always just like "oh ofc that makes sense" lol who knows... I have lived with these characters a long time now and they still surprise me but always in ways that feel like they're not new 😂

"haha maybe I'll just add this in :)" -> yeah that sounds about right 🤣🤣

oh gosh hahaha so intense jghghg I'm really touched??? that my game could have such an impact makes me feel very honored but also very sheepish lol. I am sorry you can't give me money(????). honestly ppl playing my games and engaging with my characters is my greatest joy. I don't need any money from it... And I'm lucky that I can do most of game dev myself so it doesn't cost me much (besides my own time and sanity) to make games, so it's not like I need money to keep devving either. I just want as many ppl as possible to be able to experience my stories (if they want to ofc 🤣 I also realize my stuff isn't for everyone)

I just want to thank honestly everyone that plays my stuff and interacts with me and shows their love for my chars. that's really the currency that keeps me going tbh (that and my mind plague)

this is such an intense ask I'm not sure what else to say 🤣 thank you so much tho 💕 the sheer energy of this made my heart go brrrrr

[apprenticestanheight]

pls a Mark hoffman x male reader where him and the reader get cozy in a bookstore while it's snowing

Snow- Mark Hoffman x male! reader

ALLL right!! In the spirit of the fact that I am determined to get my requests under control coupled with the fact that a snowstorm blew through my province sunday night through midday yesterday, this request is a little holiday-happy-feely. It's also what I hope to be the beginning of a prosperous week--I have energy drinks, coffee and finally finished editing something I actually finished working on last week, so the goal is that I can focus on other things now and get stuff done lol.

Thank you for sending this in--I truly don't write for hoffman enough and I just knew, from the minute I read the request, that it was gonna come out really sweet. I love me some tooth rotting fluff and writing this was an absolute joy!

Fic type- fluff!!

Warnings- this is unedited (I was trying to finish it before the motivation went away and editing it hardly occurred to me bc editing is never motivating ever--but I did read through as I went to make sure the grammar and stuff wasn't TOO funky. Apologies if it still is tho)

You were standing in the bookstore a close friend owned, watching the weather forecast from a TV in their backroom while they finished up with customers when you first got the news of a very intense oncoming storm.

Jersey, as a whole, was looking at a median half a foot of snow over the weekend. Locally, though, two feet were the expectation. You had the thought to get home and make sure to turn the heat on so the pipes didn't freeze, but your phone was dead and you'd agreed to meet Mark at the bookstore and then grab a cab home together, so it wasn't really worth it. Plus--the snowfall in the first four hours wasn't expected to be too terrible. Driving conditions would be fine until midnight, at the very latest, which gave you plenty of time.

Your friend decides to close the bookstore early, and when Mark comes in fifteen minutes after they've decided to close, he's a sight for sorer eyes.

Your friend, having watched the snowfall to see just how inaccurate the newscaster had been, was setting up their backroom in case you all needed to spend the night there while you brewed up some coffee from the machine left somewhere to the right of the counter, right next to an advertisement stating that coffee, hot chocolate and tea all costed the hefty price of two quarters.

Mark is somewhat covered in snow--he shakes it from his hair and shoots you a happy, loving smile as he idly dusts it off his coat. Your friend greets him and Mark says his hello, running a hand through his hair as Quin--your friend--goes back to the backroom to finish setting it up.

"They said it wasn't supposed to be that bad," Mark notes as he approaches you in the dimly lit bookstore. "Strahm was a dick about it, though--sounded like he was sixty, complainin' about how storms in Jersey always seem a bit random. Perez had the graces to wish me luck, where Strahm just said to enjoy my walk. Don't think he likes me all that much, if I'm honest."

You shrug, passing him the mug of coffee you'd just made. "He's the new guy, Mark. Take it a little easy--not everyone sees the charm in Jersey, babe. Especially not with some serial killer on the loose. Maybe he's worried he's next for smoking cigarettes or something."

Mark laughs. Your heart swells.

"Think we'll get snowed in here?"

You laugh, starting another cup of coffee by placing a new K-pod into the Keurig. "I love Quin, but I really do hope not. As someone who studied for their college degree in that staff room, sleeping on that couch is not for the weak. I'm pretty sure it's old enough to drink, actually. I helped him move it in when he bought the place."

"Well, we'll figure something out."

You nod, grinning as Marks lips press a kiss against your cheek. "We always do, Mark. How was work?"

"It was work," Mark shrugs. "Shitty roads, more investigating, all of the fun stuff that comes with workin' at the precinct. How was work for you?"

"It was a day in the life of marketing," you shrug, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Numbers, people, crappy coworkers and slow computers. I can't wait for my week off on Monday--I will sleep in and for an entire seven days, I won't have to hear about Carol and her bunions or David and his grandmother. I hate the office I work in but the coworkers make it so much worse. Their incessant gossiping makes it hard to focus."

Mark laughs, and you laugh a little too while the coffee finishes pouring. You make it to your specifications and burn the roof of your mouth drinking it, but it's worth it because it tastes damn good.

Quin shows up with a defeated smile from the back room. "Hey, lovebirds," he greets. "You've got four hours before the roads start sucking ass to drive on, but from what it looks like, cab companies aren't going to let their drivers drive anyone home after ten. You're welcome to stay here and browse for a bit, drink coffee and Mark, I'm sure you'll have an excellent time while Y/N looks at the classics section that he loves so dearly, but I'll be leaving round ten thirty so I'd say it's best to be leavin' at nine thirty. That is, of course, if you have any hopes of getting a cab before companies start threatening to cut the wages of anyone still out and driving after the cut off."

You nod at Quin. "Thanks for the tip, Quinnie," you say. "We'll be out of your hair by nine thirty, we promise."

Quin shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. "No worries, Y/N. Have fun with Detective Lip Filler."

Mark quirks an eyebrow while you laugh, shaking your head as if to say "don't ask, mark," and interlacing your fingers with his own.

Mark lets you lead him off, down one of many winding corridors in the bookstore. While you browse the shelves you and Mark talk--Christmas plans very quickly become a point of discussion, seeing that it's two weeks away and neither of you really know what the plan is just yet.

You know that Mark doesn't much talk to his parents--they're in their seventies as it were and subscribe to more...conservative points of politics and worldviews. Aside from them, he's not really got anybody and hasn't since his sisters death.

You figured he'd spend it with you, unless work got in the way as it had last year. Your tradition was simple--spend Christmas Eve at home, order Chinese takeaway, watch whatever crappy Christmas movies happened to be playing on the channel that was devoted to them during December and laugh at the bad acting.

Wake up Christmas morning, make cinnamon buns and bake a tray of brownies to take to your parents as you were always in charge of dessert. Make sure the gifts you'd bought for relatives were in your car and then drive the half an hour to your parents place. Spend the day there, leave with a quick hug to your parents and a promise to come around again around the new year, and then go home and smoke a bit of weed to relax and hit the hay early.

"You don't have to," you murmur, grabbing the penguin edition of Shakespeares 'Hamlet' and glancing the cover over. "It's just a suggestion--it's Christmas, Mark. Might be because I was raised with neighbors popping by for Christmas dinner, but Christmas is a shitty holiday to spend alone."

Mark nods. "I was hoping I'd get to spend Christmas with you anyway," he says, taking a sip of his coffee. "Will we have to act like we're just best friends, though? Or are your parents unopposed?"

"They know I have a boyfriend at present," you answer. Your relationship isn't new--it's been three years with him, but Mark has been busy with work and trying to keep a level head as things with Jigsaw have continued, so you've never really had the chance to introduce him to anyone in your family. "They also know what your name is--first, not last. And that you're a detective, and that you're really handsome. I promise, I haven't told them anything that would make them hate you. My mothers been eager to meet you since I brought you up, though. My exes were horrendous, according to her."

Mark laughs, and you let yourself grin. "I'll do my best to impress, then," he says. "We'll have to get them gifts, though."

"I've been meaning to do some Christmas shopping anyway--we'll go once the storm has cleared," you say. "And at this point, I think my parent's won't care about gifts, really. They just really wanna meet you."

You put Hamlet back onto the shelf and grin as Marks arms wrap around your waist after he's set the coffee mug on an empty shelf. You do the same and let your arms wrap around his shoulders, and silence settles.

You close your eyes for a second, listening.

"Can you hear it?" You ask after a minute, maybe two.

"Hear what?" Mark asks. "It's completely silent in here, Y/N--there's nothing to hear."

"The snow, Mark," you answer. "It might just be because my ears are good, but I can hear it hitting the windowsills."

"How?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Just been able to since I was a kid. I knew it was snowing right when I woke up some days."

"I will add that to the catalogue of random things that've come to light at random times," Mark grins as your eyes open again. "Among the fact that your favorite color was green until you were twenty four, and the fact that you once got bitten by a stray cat so bad that you had to be put on antibiotics during your college days, and the fact that you've never liked daisies."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You love me and my randomness, Hoffman."

Mark nods. "That I do," he says.

The two of you end up sitting at one of the desks by the windows, drinking coffee and chatting until nine, when you leave to grab a cab home just to sit by your windowsill and watch the snow until you grow bored of it.

All in all, for a night in the middle of December, while the beginnings of a snowstorm rages on outside, it's a pretty good night.

[wjehfshs]

Follow up to this post of mine @smol-opal-2001 for the idea of making this a fanfic

Price being a dad kinda, I literally love cats sm, Ghost showing a softer side if you squint with huge ass nerd glasses, reader, Gaz, and Soap fawning over the kitten

“For Christ’s sake we are not getting a cat! Who’s gonna take care of it? It’s gonna end up being me!” Price argued with the three of you

You, Gaz, and Soap where trying to convince Price to get a cat for the team

Ghost wasn’t saying anything as he knew better but he wasn’t opposed to the idea

You tried everything, offering to take care of it, paying for it, even puppy dog eyes. None of it worked

You all eventually gave up trying to ask him, but you knew you all still wanted a cat

Eventually one day you saw Ghost walking back inside the Barracks, cupping something small in his hands

You asked what he had in his hands before he looked around to see if anyone was around and leaned down

He showed you his hands and what he had made you want to explode

It was a kitten, small, teary eyed (fun fact kittens are usually always just teary eyed not because they’re crying or sad, I can’t remember why tho) and shaky

You wanted to cry it was so cute

Immediately you told Ghost to follow you

You knew Gaz and Soap played poker sometimes in Gaz’s room so you rushed there

Thankfully from the sounds of the deep Scottish male accent and deep but higher pitched British male accent, they where both in there

You flung the door open, startling them, and pushed Ghost inside as he was carful to keep the kitten safe

“GHOST GHOST SHOW THEM SHOW THEM NOW” from the looks of it you where almost about to burst, tears in your eyes

Ghost sighed and lowered his cupped hands in front of Gaz and Soap

They looked at the kitten, ghost, you, and then back at the kitten wide eyed

“There’s no way, how did you get a kitten?!” Gaz asked

“I didn’t get it, I found it outside in the dirt with some trash and old clothes, poor thing” Ghost answered back

“Little thing looks like she’s starving, we need to get her something to eat” Soap added

The question was, how would you get kitten milk formula without alerting price?

“We need some formula for her, but Price will probably catch on…” you said sadly

Everyone thought for a moment before Ghost spoke up

“Look I think we’ll just have to tell him, I mean he wouldn’t let a starving dirty kitten go hungry would he?”

You all looked at each other before silently agreeing

You had to tell price

You decided it was best Ghost told him

Ghost knocked on Prices door with his foot and waited

“Come in” you heard the older man reply from behind the door

Ghost went in and the three of you waited with baited breath

After a few minutes Ghost walked out with Price

Price sighed, “I just put in an order for kitten formula from Laswell… should be here in about an hour. In the mean time we need somewhere warm to keep her” he said crossing his arms and looking down at the ground and back up at you three with that look of a father who just gave in to his kids.

You all sprung into action, you tried to find a pillow for it to sleep on and maybe a heater as it was winter at the time

Soap ran to get some bedding as Gaz found a spot to set up a bed for it

After you had set everything up you, Soap, and Gaz where circled around it, leaned down like kids who where too short for the front counter at a toy store

You all watched it intensely

Occasionally you would give it a little pat on the head or it’s back

Maybe readjusting the bedding sometimes

You couldn’t take your eyes off it

Price and Ghost stayed back, leaned against the wall on opposite sides, watched you three watch this poor little kitten like it was some mesmerising video

You hadn’t even realised that an hour passed until you heard the landing of a helicopter

Soap got up quicker than you could blink and ran faster than you’ve ever seen for the door

He ran back with the formula and wasted no time making her a bottle

After he finished you all took turns feeding her, even Ghost looked happy to be feeding such a tiny thing

Eventually he passed her to price carefully as he looked down on her as if she was his newborn child

He couldn’t help but let his heart melt as he watched her suck on the bottle he held for her, her tummy full and round, her eyes closed

He originally wanted to get someone to take her to a shelter but seeing her like this made him feel like she was his actual baby daughter

“Alright I’ve made a decision, we’re keeping her and her name is Mittens, no arguing, I’ll take care of her” price said firmly

You all looked at each other before you, Gaz and Soap and cheered and hugged each-other like a bunch of middle school girls

After that moment Price set up a bed for her in his office on his desk, a bed in his room, and a special spot for her at the dinner table, like a mini high chair for her with the name mittens plastered on the back in gold paint

You caught him multiple times talking to her in baby talk, and every time she yawned, fell asleep, or basically did anything you swore you saw him shed some tears

Price loved this new cat and would literally take a train covered in lava and acid spikes for her

[analoceits]

mushroom rings & faery things chapter 1: loyalty

A03 link

note:

thanks to ChaosIsMyName on A03 for reading this over!! theyre the fucking best and yall should read their shit.

also uhh. felt fair to warn that i do NOT pull any punches on my body horror. its brief and skippable but i do get pretty intense when i do go with it soo, yeah. as well this is probably one of the darkest and messiest chapters in this whole fic, and the full promise of older brother remus wont come in till later [like chapter 3] so yeah 3 it will happen eventually but right now everyones too messy to be sweet. you can see the seeds of it start to grow tho!!

tags:

Disabled Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Fae, Body Horror, (for like 1 or 2 paragraphs but yknow), Fae Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Light Sides As Family (Sanders Sides), Found Family, Things look Worse Than They are, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, implied/referenced suicidal ideation, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders has a Cane, Remus Typical Gore Discussion, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Discussions of Death/Grief, no one dies tho,

-

I’m so sorry,

I know you don’t want me to do this, but I know I need too. I can’t go another day not sure if Roman will live or die, and I doubt you guys can either. No matter what you say, I’m indebted to you. It’s time I pay that back. Go to the edge of the woods, my gift will wait there.

With endless loyalty, Virgil.

Virgil pocketed the note in silence. It was the last of many ugly, emotional, gut-wrenching drafts and the only one he could imagine having them read. The only one he had managed to write without crying. With it completed, he had nothing left to do here.

He took one last look at his room from the bed. It didn’t look familiar; he had cleaned up most of his things so they wouldn’t have too while grieving. Still, there were some marks of himself that he couldn’t hide under the bed. 

A scuff in the tile from his boots, old purple sheets torn where he pulled on them too hard, a single blind tied to the rest with green string where he broke it. Family carved into a bed post. Despite his best efforts, there was proof he had lived.

With that bittersweet thought, he pulled himself up off the bed and steadied himself with his cane. He smiled just barely, slowly making his way down the stairs and around the hall. As soon as he was off the stairs, his eyes locked on the front door, but he silently shook his head.

There was one stop before he had to leave.

It took care to ease the bedroom door open silently, but as soon as he did he was at Roman’s bedside. He couldn’t help the way his stomach twisted with guilt at the sight - white bandages wrapping around his stomach where a red sash should be. The only red left was that pouring out of his guts, now.

Between bouts of crying and frantically checking his bandages, Logan had called it a godly miracle he survived. That was, of course, right before Patton physically dragged him to bed for his own sake, but it still held some weight. Their luck couldn’t last them forever, though. 

His eyes darted down to his cane when the thought hit him. The cane was a gift from Roman, one he had carved for hours on hours with painstaking care after Virgil started to complain of his pain. The one with from your family carved under the handle in gentle letters. Virgil had to hold back tears of joy when he first used it.

It was the last gift Roman was able to give him, a gift to make sure he wasn’t in pain. Even with the cane, he couldn't help Patton forage, or Logan shop, or Roman hunt. The thought sent a strange spiraling guilt through Virgil, but it didn’t matter.

It didn’t, because he knew he could fix it anyway. No matter how high the price may be.

He slipped the note out of his pocket. It was so small in his hand, but it must’ve weighed ten thousand pounds with how hard it was to hold. He tucked it in between Roman’s fingers with painstaking care. It was the only spot he could think to leave it.

Sparing one last glance to Roman’s limp form, he turned his back on the bed. The satchel felt practically weightless when he pulled it over his shoulder - if you could even call it that. It was tiny, only enough to fill a small cup of milk and a tiny jar of honey. That was all he needed.

Right as he went to stand up, a sharp whimper sounded from behind him. He glanced back to Roman, twisting and turning fitfully in his bed between little cries. Right, nightmares. They had only gotten worse since his accident, Logan had mentioned.

He hesitated before turning around, but he knew he didn’t have the guts to leave him like that. He was loyal to him. His hands were practically shaking as he nervously brushed the hair out of Roman’s face and shushed him, “shh, it’s ok.. there you go, there you go bud. You ain’t got anything to fear, Ro.”

Slowly, Roman stopped his twisting and turning, quieting down. Still, there was the slightest furrow to his brow and Virgil couldn’t help the fond way he sighed. He leaned down over him, brushing a finger over his brow as he kissed his forehead.

As soon as he drew back up, there was a hand softly grasping at his wrist, and it took all his willpower to pull out of the grip. “I know,” he said as he fit the sheets back over Roman, “I don’t want me to leave either.”

It wasn’t hard to open the house door silently and it wasn’t hard to pace down the stone path without his boots or cane making a noise. No, that wasn’t hard, he had practiced. It was hard to not look back. It was so hard, to swallow his guilt and grief and not look at those unlit windows. 

He kept walking anyway.

Their house was near the edge of the woods, so he knew it wasn’t going to be a very long walk. Still, his entire body ached and he stumbled down the path as it turned from stone to gravel, then to dirt, then to overgrown grass. Brambles thickened on either side of the trail.

Finally, he reached the edge of the woods, and it was just as great and imposing as he remembered. Dark, thick leaves hung overhead and any trace of moonlight would be gone as soon as he passed under those trees. He knew he wouldn’t need the light, the path painstakingly memorized but the darkness felt endless nonetheless. 

With one deep breath he pushed between the leaves and made his way onto a deer path carved in the grass. There was just the barest shine from moonlight that managed to worm its way between leaves, and he thanked the heavens for that.

Every passing step through, though, had the moon’s light fading until pure black clawed at the edges of his vision and he could barely see his own boots. The old growth of the forest thickened around him as he went on.

He kicked through undergrowth and slapped at brambles with the edge of his cane. Thick brambles and thorns caught on the edges of his pants, as if the forest itself was pleading with him to head back, but he simply kicked through and continued. No matter what anyone said, he had a duty.

The walk was an hour at most, but it felt like ages. Every step he took he wanted nothing more to turn around and bolt home, but he was not a coward. He was loyal to a default; he would not give up when he was needed. Even if he couldn’t think to call himself a good person, he payed his debts.

Even with the misery, he had a slight bit of company. The sounds of nature churred around him; a breaking stick and then the delighted chirp of grasshoppers, a shrill whistle cry of a bird and then a distant splash from a pond out of his view. The closer he got to his destination, the louder and more frequent the noises became; an accompanying orchestra. He didn’t know if it was a hopeful heroic swell or a tragic one.

Finally, the woods started to clear around him; giving up on fighting him. Slowly, at first, brambles let up and the barest glint of moonlight shone through the trees, and then all at once as the last bit of undergrowth caught on his boots and he stumbled into the clearing.

It was uncomfortably beautiful. The full moon was bright, shining and hearty (he was sure it had been a half-moon when he had entered, but he didn’t think that mattered where he was.) The stars glittered above head along with it and it felt like they were winking down at him for some inside joke he was now in on.

The main thing that caught his eye, however, was the ring of mushrooms. They were stark, bright red and it briefly reminded his of Roman’s garish sash - then it reminded him of his blood, and his heart sank. It was fine, he told himself, he was making it up now.

He took a few paces ahead and then dropped to his knees right in front of the faery ring, carefully and slowly removing the pack from his shoulder and unloading the contents. Milk, honey, and a bowl. Perfect.

A strange sense of calm came over him as he placed the bowl in the farthest point of the ring. It was a painful, aching calm; like he was planning his own funeral. A singular mourner holding vigil for his own life, a living corpse. It was grim, but more than fitting.

The milk and honey smelled disgustingly sweet as he poured them both into the bowl, even if his hands were shaking. The moon and the stars glowed overhead like lanterns - no, eyes, eyes burning into the back of his skull. They waited to see what he would do next; lions waiting to pounce on him.

As soon as the contents were poured out, he lifted himself up with cane and took a step into the circle. His body rocked with invisible force until he dropped and was kneeling, hands desperately wrapped around the still up-right cane like in prayer. It wasn’t really that funny to him, but he didn’t try to move.

Instead, he bowed his head, terror suddenly pounding through his ribs and lungs like a horribly off tune song. Grief ran through jaw and throat, wrapping around it like a snake and making it hard to breath. Grief for himself and grief for growing old with them. Even if he knew he needed to do this, he missed home.

Still, through the aching pain, a deep, indescribable burning set ablaze in his finger tips and deep in his chest, and every spot where Roman’s nimble fingers would cart through his hair when he needed it. He thought that warmth might be called loyalty.

“I have an offering,” his voice was more hoarse than he had expected, but it was good enough. For a brief, but completely nauseating moment, nothing happened. The stars continued to blink above and moonlight danced in his vision.

Then blood welled through the grass, and the earth became an open wound. Dirt pushed itself apart and away, grass seeming to sway to avoid what was crawling out of the earth. Blood and sap, wood and flesh arose all at once in a spiraling tower of something, something that should not exist. Skin knit over pulsating, ugly flesh and a pair of eyes stared at him for something that was supposed to be a face.

Finally, something human like was formed. Human-like, because those few seconds taught Virgil that whatever fae were, they were not human. It stared down at him, a strange blank curiosity on its features. 

As he stared back at it, something suddenly clicked in his brain and he was sure he was going to be sick. He wanted to be wrong, but the only question left was a simple one. Why the hell was Roman here?

No; it wasn’t exactly Roman, but at the same time.. it could only be him. It was a strange, gross sight. The same dorky smile that showed just one too many teeth, but the teeth were as sharp as blades. The same striking green eyes, but an odd cold rested behind them.

The figure - person - fae, fae, had scars littering up and down his skin and ungodly green eyes and a wide smile. Passion and adventure and want burned behind his eyes but it was wrong, scarily feral, scarily.. animal. 

At a closer look, he was far too old as well. A decade older than Roman, at least. Age weighed on his face in the form of crows feet and a thick mustache, the same color as his hair. It was as dark as Romans, to be sure, but colder - without the red tinting it warm.

Was this.. some fucked up joke? Was this a near death hallucination? Or maybe, maybe this was the first form of torture planned for him, a reminder of why he was here. Either way, the sight made it hard to breath.

The fae spoke first, “I’m Remus, your local fae prince.” With the word Remus sickness and the cold scent of pinewood rushed through Virgil so hard he leered. The prince of the fae, the actual fucking fae, just gave him his name. Freely, just as that.

Virgil realized what it was a second later - a show of power. A quiet, but impactful way to remind Virgil that no matter what information he had, no matter how hard he fought, he was powerless here. It made his heart sink.

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered and in the same breath he cringed from his own words. Right, no thanking them. How had he forgotten? “I’m here to offer myself to you, on one condition.” It felt incomprehensibly stupid to speak of conditions when he was on his knees.

“I love conditions!” The too-shrill voice practically squawked out, leaning one elbow on Virgil’s cane nonchalantly. “What do you want, little stormcloud?” He grinned down at Virgil, clearly awaiting his response with delight.

“.. I have a friend,” Virgil carefully avoided his name, “he is gravely injured and, though stable, will not survive winter like this. I have another friend - he is trying to make a remedy. Theres one last ingredient he needs, a flower - oleander.”

Remus gave him a look, a single eyebrow raised at him. “Stormy - can I call you stormy? - Cool, thanks. Oleanders a poison, at least to you little.. flesh beasts. I don’t think your thinking of the right flower. It’d be cool to poison him and all, but y'know - doublechecking.”

Virgil thought over the words for a second, because he knew it couldn’t be a lie - even though that was exactly what his knee-jerk reaction wanted to say. After a second, he forced, “no offense, but I trust his medical knowledge more than yours.”

“Well, if you insist,” Remus shrugged then grinned, “still, that’s all you ask for your life!? Most ask for more than that. Money, power, fame, love - and lust~, of course,” the creature wiggled his eyebrows and Virgil bit back the urge to gag. “You can ask for more, you know. A lifes worth more than a flower.”

Virgil looked up, mildly stunned by what he heard. Was Remus.. trying to help him? The thought sent a feeling of vertigo through him, but he hesitantly spoke, hand picking each word that slipped out of his mouth, “there won’t be any extra.. stipulations because of this, will there?”

“Nah! I’m just bored, you see, and I love doing those little tasks for you mortals. They always go through the same cycles. First their filled with delight and shock at their new gifts, then grief and disgust as they ask why their daughter, or lover, or brother has went.” Remus turned his head back and practically cackled through out.

“.. Alright,” Virgil knew the fae couldn’t lie, and he couldn’t find much of a loophole in the words, no matter how.. depressing. “Some money to be comfortable for the following years, good fertile land to plant on, and a hunters blessing. For my family, please.” Virgil stared down for a reason he himself didn’t quiet understand.

Remus looked down at him with a strange expression. It took Virgil a moment to process it as curiosity, but before he could comprehend that, the fae spoke. “Man, you’re weirdly humble. Don’t even want any good shit! Or just, well, shit. Do you know how many farmers have asked for good manure?” He turned his head back and laughed, before looking back down, “well, they don’t usually offer their life for it.”

Virgil turned his gaze to the side. The words weirdly burnt at his chest. It was the reminder, he realized. He wanted to go home so fucking bad. The rough dirt made his knees ache and his hands blistered against the wood he held so tight and he wanted nothing more than to step out of the mushrooms, come home, and hug his family so close he didn’t have words for it.

“Will you stop mocking me?” Virgil hissed through his teeth, fear burning in his heart at every word that slipped out of his mouth without his permission, “I just want to get sacrificied in fucking peace before I spend the rest of eternity dancing as my skin burns off and muscles rot away, and- and-” suddenly, it was hard to breath. His lungs felt tiny and air was too large to choke down.

The fae thing gave him a strange look from where he hovered over Virgil, watching him have a panic attack like he was a mildly interesting rock. After a weird long moment of that, he spoke with delight, “wow are you killing yourself by self-suffocation!? That’s so cool!” 

That startled a laugh out of Virgil’s chest, then a few awkward coughs as his body readjusted to breathing again. He stared up at Remus awkwardly. “Nobody’s had a panic attack while sacrificing themselves to you before me?” He choked out.

Remus propped his hands up on his hips. “Not until you, stormy! You’re the first,” he said without a single sense of the weight of the words. For a fae, creature known for their odd but strict manners, he was wildly impolite.

Virgil couldn’t help but cringe with it, then awkwardly bark out a few laughs. “I can’t even kill myself right, can I?” He didn’t realize what he was saying until the words came out of his mouth, and then he closed said mouth tight.

The fae was giving him another one of those peculiar looks again before continuing to speak. “Man, is this meant to be your suicide? You’re like, really bad at that then because I have no plans to kill you!” The grin was strangely warm, now.

“Look, I- I’m gonna be basically dead by the end of this anyway. No old life to get back to,” he sighed quietly, before asking, like a slight plea, “can we get this over with, now? I don’t wanna spend longer here.”

The smile dripped off Remus’s face and Virgil felt oddly guilty. “Well, if you’re so impatient, then lets get this over with, stormcloud. You know what to do to stop it. Just give me your name.” The weight of the phrase was more than ever.

Suddenly, hearing the words - Virgil realized how badly he didn’t want to get it over with. Like a desperate idiot avoiding the death he handed himself, he stalled. “What, you don’t want this to end? You having fun chit-chatting here?” He said easy as you please, tilting his head to the side. The false confidence was familiar.

That startled a laugh out of Remus, who cackled so loud and shrill that Virgil could hear the birds flee. “Wow, seems like our little stormy has himself a sharp tongue. Wonder how long that will last you.”

“Long as it takes for you to get tired of me and cut it off,” Virgil hissed through his teeth, a sly grin on his face. It felt as natural as breathing, and just as fulfilling as it. Something that he knew from memory.

He realized the memory was of Roman.

Remus didn’t notice his realization of course and continued without a single hitch, “I wonder if it will be like a lizard tail, still wriggling and writhing after I cut it out of your wordy little mouth! I mean, I’m sure I can make that happen.”

Virgil faked a gag and turned his gaze up to Remus again, “you’re real disgusting y’know, for being a fae, a creature of manners and politeness, you’re real gross. How do you even get away with your wordy little mouth?” Virgil asked, half teasing and half genuine.

“Well, manners are oh so subjective,” Remus grinned, seemingly preening with delight at this fact, “and so, with just a little bit of squirming around through loopholes and the like - you really can get away with most things.” His satisfied grin seemed to light up the clearing.

Or maybe that was the sunrise, peaking over the horizon like an unwelcome guest. Remus turned his head back to stare at it. “Oops! Looks like your time is up, my dearest storm. No more stalling~.” He turned back to Virgil. “May I have your name?”

The words carried the weight of ten thousand stones.

Virgil knew what to do though, and he spoke his name, tearing it out of his throat and soul as the sun rose along with bile in his throat and as the moon fell along with his bloody heart. He whispered the first two words that would be in his obituary, “Virgilius Sentinel.”

A coldness wrapped around him, tight and binding. It was like a promise; a cruel, sickening promise, the type that edged on threat. His body shook, lungs wheezing through breaths that couldn’t make it all the way into him. 

Even though he could still see Remus above him, staring down at him with that cruel grin and hands on his hips, he could feel his hands on his face, holding him still. They were as cold as he imagined, but not as painful.

Despite the terror, breaths slowly became easier as his body became more used to the feeling, the control, the vulnerability of it all. He adjusted to it, the world spinning around him as he learned to breath with smaller lungs. Maybe, this wouldn’t be as painful as he worried.

Right as he adjusted, though, there was a sudden burning in his chest and around his lungs. It was the kindest fire and the sweetest pain, and his lungs were aching as if he had managed to breath too much. It felt familiar; it felt like being held by warm and gentle hands. The fire chased off the cold.

As suddenly as the flame overtook him, it drew back. The feeling of being held turned to the feeling of being dropped, and the cold leapt back in as soon as the warmth left him. He shook just a little with the nauseating feelings. No matter the attempt at a fight, it was too weak.

Still, it left a small thought: something else had its own claim on him, separate from Remus’s. He silently reeled from that, but before he could think too hard he heard that barking shrilling laugh again and the world fell from under his feet.

[gomzwrites]

✧✿✧˖° Chocolate °˖✧✿✧

Hello heLLOO! *waves excitedly over a round table* come come I have tea and dessert for everyone *pulls out a few chairs*

Alright, so. Some of my thoughts first regarding the Academic AU

I wrote this fic longer than intended because I was going heavy with the details and plot

Though I am wondering if this kind of smut is welcome here, because I've let a few of my friends to read it and gotten mix responses, some said it was lengthy while some said they liked it

Personally, I was trying to walk readers through the entire process, and since its the first encounter/$ex scene, I wanted to show the small details to indicate some stuff

Initially I was going to write like virgin reader for the innocent sake. but that will make my fic longer WHEEZE-

I ended up hinting the "innocent" part with the floral pattern on the brief, well I say hint but idk if that was obvious lmfao anyways-

not to say I dont like longer fics, but the longer I write, the more mistakes im gonna encounter (if you can't tell already, i struggle a lot with grammar lol)

In the end after much consideration, ive cut down heavily on the smut and condensed to what we have now and Im okay with it, tho I would like to hear your thoughts (send me anonymously if you're shy, or just comment, I dont bite I promise :D)

Okay, *pours everyone a cup of tea*, some headcannons and notes

So, as you all can tell, there was a hint of mlm there of Price x Simon, not sure how everyone think about it but I for one eat that shit up

Now, I did gave some thoughts about the subjects Price and Simon teach, in the end though I decided to leave it blank because I couldn't be sure

See im from Asia so the education system here is extremely different from the UK/US, and I got kinda confused and overwhelmed with the choices XD so I just left it blank

I was going to write them with STEM majors, but eeerrr Idk, cant really picture Price or Simon as engineer or medicine lecturers(iykyk)(rise up my STEM sisters and brothers-)

Perhaps you can give me some thoughts about it, I was thinking something about History for Price, then something about Linguistic/Statistic/Psychology for Simon

Okay, Gaz also made an appearance on the fic((of course he did, my precious bb)), now for him I have a solid idea to make him Pharmacology based or at least somewhere along the healthcare sector, hence the Dr

I might, also bring Soap in the future, but I dont know how or what his role will be yet (gym tutor? physical therapist?)

Will I make this into a poly thing? Im not sure, probably not XD but I might do a special moment with Gaz bcuz im that bias

oh yeah, forgot add on, but yes there's a reason for the name changes(Mr Riley to Simon) and name that stayed (Prof Price), its just to further show that Price has the power and all the sayings (you know cuz he is the Captain originally so I wanted to bring that over)

You wanna call him John? mmmm that's gonna take some convincing and time >:)

Lastly, some future plans (no promises) - nsfw here

many h0rny, many ideas, many tired

anyways, Im thinking of xreader individually fic(like Price x you then Simon x you separately), then eventually building it up to both of them destroying you in threesome manner (lovingly)

I want. I want to write Price being mEAN YALL-

Like him bullying you and putting a vibrat0r inside you and force you to come out to write something on the board in front of everyone, dialing up the intensity as you try your hardest not to cum right there

or or or or or

thinking about c0ckwarming under his desk- raaasdajdgajdh

then Simon...oh sweet sweet Simon

Im thinking maybe dom!reader, just a maybe.

Riding him until he's a whimpering sobbing mess

Idk if anyone remembered, but u know this part?

:)

yeah, maaaaaybe Simon has that exhibitionism kink

so lets abuse that shall we

thinking of doing it in the car park/in his car, you giving him head under the steering wheel as he pulls down the car window slightly to talk to a student who just wanted to chat

Poor him trying to be calm and steady his tone as his knuckles turned white, hands clammy as you suck harder, not giving a damn if you're going to draw attention

or or or or or or or

going back to the riding part, tying him up with his tie, not letting him touch you as you ride that dick like your life depends on it, you hear him begging and whimpering, bucking his hips up desperately

im very unwell

ANYWAYS, ye so far, these are the only ideas I have atm, but don't expect me to write it so soon haha

If im gonna be honest, this blog was created when I had a massive art block, and then somehow (even until today!!) my soft fics blew up and ye it escalated from there

not really but also- If you see me write a fic, its usually bcuz im struggling with art, likewise if you followed me on @gomzdraws or twitter, you would notice im more active cause I think for me, drawing is easier than writing

im grateful to be able to express in two mediums tho, even tho I suck at it haha

but I do sincerely want to make this into a series, so I thank everyone for being patience with me, I appreciate it

Ogeh, *brings out a briefcase* recommendation time

if you like Prof AUs, then boi do I have some fics for you here in tumblr

Guyfierii has a long Prof series and they're wonderful

mehh141's amAZING PROF PRICE ART IM CRYING-

Shroomie (one of the first few blog I was exposed to when I started reading cod fics :D) made 2 Prof fics as well - sadly I dont think they're active since April because of uni :(

ajhdkadh sleepyconfusedpotato, the god of both being a great artist and oc!fic writer made a post a while ago about tf141 possible Professor headcannons - give it a look if ya interested

that is all from me, and btw don't feel obligated to comment or send me a text or anything!! The fact that you made it till the end is already making me happy :D thanks for reading my babbling and points LMAO

Have a nice day/night friends :)