#when i get around drawing him and hopefully made good drawings of him....which...hopefully can happen sooner

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 15: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 6)

Summary: You finally catch a fish. Afterwards, you have a nice dinner with Soap and then do a little stargazing after, which turns into anything but stargazing.

Word Count: 14,875

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, animal death, smut, p in v, fluff, slightly rough smut, unprotected sex, sexual language, slight male masturbation, developing feels

A/N: Look at that word count… this is a long one. Lots of good stuff though! Also the drawing in this chapter is one that I did! Anyone, sorry for the wait, and please enjoy!!

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 15

Your options for clothing is beginning to really run thin. With Soap having destroyed one pair, and the bear shitting on the other, you only had two left. One was hanging out on the porch to dry, and the other wasn't the best for wading into the water. They didn't roll up very well, so you opt to wear the shorts you sleep in instead.

The sleep shorts weren't ideal either, but at least the shortened length would keep them out of the water, and they were dry. And now that you're back into some dry clothing, you can continue your fishing.

While you're back out in the water, watching carefully for what will hopefully be the last fish you try to catch, Soap is back on short making a fire. Every now and then, your gaze drifts from watching the water to check on the progress he's made. At least that's what you tell yourself you're checking on. You're not looking at him just because you want to look at him.

Though you have to admit, your moment from early was still fresh in your mind. As was the dream, your kiss from last night, and your little hookup a few nights back.

Thinking about each encounter made you angry with yourself but also made your heart leap in your chest. You liked it far more than you should, and with this last moment of weakness between you, you found that you didn't want to stop. Even now, after clearing your head, you almost regret listening to him. Part of you wishes you ignored him and kept going. Consequences be damned. It was almost like you were starting to fall for...

No! Absolutely not!

You physically recoil at that thought. You could not be falling for Soap MacTavish. You could not be starting to have feelings for this man. This guy who's caused you nothing but anguish during your entire time with the 141. That could not be what was happening.

But then what else could explain it? Soap seemed to think the whole reason that you slept with each other in the first place was because of stress. Stress couldn't be causing the continued make out sessions though. You didn't really feel stressed anymore. At least not because of Soap. Things had been great within the past twenty four hours.

So then were you really starting to fall for the Scot?

Sighing softly to yourself, you try to force those thoughts out of your head. Just tonight and then two more days. Maybe once you got out of the woods those feelings were go away.

"Oi! Lass! Catch anything yet?!"

You jolt a bit as Soap's voice reaches your ears, heart hammering in your chest now. You take a deep breath to settle your poor heart and then turn to look back at him, trying to act like he hadn't just startled you.

"No! And I won't with all your shouting!" You yell back.

There was no fish around anyway. Not big ones worth catching at least. You turn back to look at the water, debating if you should move and try somewhere else or keeping trying where you were.

"You want some help?" Soap asks, and when you look back at him, he's walked closer to the shoreline.

Huffing softly, you drop your stance and putting a hand on your hip. "I think I'm alright for now."

Soap shrugs a bit, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll be right back then. Gonna run inside and get something."

You watch as he retreats back towards the cabin, only looking away once he's up the steps. Sighing softly, you turn back to the water, continuing to play the waiting game.

Not a minute later, you hear the cabin door open back up and can make out the sounds of him getting close once again. You don't think too much of it when you can no longer hear him, but after about ten seconds, you begin to feel as though you're being watched.

Frowning, you turn back around to try and figure out why you're feeling that way, only to find Soap seated at a tree close to where you were. He was still a good few feet away, but he's close enough for you to notice the black journal in his lap and a pencil in his hand.

"What are you doing?" You ask curiously, brows furrowing.

"Drawing." He says simply, not taking his eyes off the page.

It makes you shift nervously. You try to ignore him, turning your attention back to the water. After only a few seconds though, you quickly figure out you can't just ignore him, and you turn back to look at him.

"Why?" You venture further, catching him at a moment where he's looking up and out towards whatever it is he's drawing. It seems to just be the lake, but you can't really tell.

"Why not?" Soap shrugs, his eyes staying up a second longer before going back to his sketch. "I'm done making the fire. Just trying to pass the time while I wait on your ass to catch a fish so we can start cooking."

You glare a little at him for that.

"Shouldn't you be watching the fire?" You glance towards where the little blaze is going. "You know so we don't set the woods and our housing on fire?"

Soap waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, still not looking up at you. "It's not gonna escape that pit. Besides it's like five meters away. I can keep an eye on it and draw." He argues.

You keep watching him, lips pursed together nervously. It crossed your mind he might be drawing you, but you didn't want to ask him if he was. He probably wasn't anyway. Why on earth would he draw you? It wasn't like he...

"You gonna just stand there staring at me or are you gonna catch a fish?" Soap asks, making you snap out of your daze instantly.

Your face flushes hot, heart skipping a beat as your eyes meet his. Oh god. You'd just been standing there... staring at him.

"I—I wasn't staring." You stammer, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away. The corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and your fluster only deepens. "I wasn't!" You insist a bit too quickly, your voice pitching higher in embarrassment. "I just... got lost in thought, that's all."

"Thinking about what?" He asks, raising a brow, which makes your face burn hotter if that was even possible. You quickly turn to try and hide your blush, but you're sure he's already noticed.

"Nothing." You answer shortly. Why did you care if he was drawing you? It was keeping him quiet and away from you, so it didn't really matter.

Soap laughs softly from his spot. He doesn't add anything else, and after a moment of silence, you assume he's gone back to his sketching, though you stubbornly refuse to glance back and confirm. Your attention returns fully to the water, focusing on the little ripples on the surface as you steady yourself.

Now that you're standing still, the fish begin to reappear, swimming cautiously around your legs. You keep your breathing shallow, body unmoving as you wait. After what feels like an eternity, one of a decent size glides lazily toward you. Your heart skips in excitement, but you keep your composure, not daring to move just yet and risk scaring it off.

The fish swims closer, and the closer it gets, the more your heart hammers in your chest. You hold your breath, raising your spear ever so slightly. Remembering Soap's advice, you adjust your aim—just a little lower than your instinct tells you.

Then, in a swift motion, you snap the spear down, piercing the water's calm surface. At first, you can't tell if you've gotten anything, but then your spear starts to jerk, making you hold it tighter. The fish wriggles and thrashes against the spear, but you've got it.

"Oh my God! Soap! I got one! I did it!" You shout, your voice breaking with excitement. "Quick! Come here! I got one!"

You press down harder on the spear, driving it deeper into the mud beneath the water to ensure the fish won't escape. From behind, you hear a splash as Soap jumps in and charges through the water, closing the distance between you in seconds. His hand instinctively finds its place at the small of your back as he comes up beside you.

"You finally got one?" He asks, a little breathless from the sprint over.

You nod eagerly, feeling the fish tug and jerk at the end of your spear. "Yes! I got one! Hurry, grab it before it gets away!"

Soap chuckles, and you feel a playful pinch at your hip. You're so focused on not losing the fish though you hardly even notice it. "I don't think it's going anywhere, hen." He reassures you as he bends down to reach into the water to get it. His hand wraps around the flailing fish, the other grasping your spear shaft.

"Let up on the spear. I got 'em. He's not going anywhere." He tells you. As he holds onto the fish with one hand, his other hand helps guide the spear up, lifting it just enough to pull it out of the water.

"Are you sure you got it?" You ask, resisting just a little bit at first. You wanted to be absolutely sure he had your fish.

Soap glances up at you from his crouched down position, and instead of answering you with words, he stands, hauling the fish up out of the water with him. You gasp a little in surprise, watching it thrashing around a little before settling. It was a pretty impressive fish, or at least you thought so. To a fisherman it probably wasn't anything too excited or even that big. But for your first time catching a fish, you were thrilled.

"Oh my God! I caught that?!" You were grinning so wide your cheeks hurt just slightly.

Soap's grinning too, chuckling softly as he glances between the fish and your beaming face. "Yeah, you did. Not too bad for a first timer." He praises, turning the fish a little to inspect it. The movement makes the fish squirm, its scales flashing under the sunlight as it struggles.

"It's huge! It looked smaller in the water." You say, looking it over as Soap turns it. You can't help but admire how the scales shimmer with iridescent greens and silvers, the white underbelly glistening in contrast. It looks similar to the others you'd been catching earlier.

Soap scoffs playfully. "Huge? Let's not get too carried away now." He chuckles, and you shoot him a glare, which only widens his grin. "But hey, for a first timer, I'd say it's a pretty decent catch." He adds, forearm flexing as the fish gives a sudden, powerful thrash. It's almost as if the fish is protesting his words and proving you were right.

You smirk, folding your arms across your chest as Soap regains control of the fish. "Don't ruin this for me, MacTavish. I'm allowed to be excited—I've been out here for hours."

Soap chuckles lightly and gives you a half smirk. "Alright, I'll shut up." He concedes, still chuckling softly as he turns and starts making his way back towards the shoreline.

You follow after him with a smile, still silently celebrating to yourself. It was going to be so much more satisfying to eat all the fish later knowing you were going to be eating one you caught yourself. You couldn't wait to get them over the fire.

"Hey States." Soap calls back to you after a few seconds, pulling you out of your thoughts and making you glance up at him. He still walking, only glancing over his shoulder slightly. "You did good. This is a really nice catch."

You pause for just a second, his praise taking a moment to process. When it does though, a warm feeling settles over you. "Thanks." You say softly, surprised that him saying something like that meant so much to you. Maybe it was because Soap never gave you compliments.

"So do you wanna kill it?" Soap asks as you walk onto the slightly sandy shore, pulling you rather abruptly from the high you'd been on.

"What?" You ask, looking back at him in surprise. "Do.. do I have to?" You frown. You'd been hoping, since he'd killed all the other fish, he'd just finish off this one off too. For whatever reason, it made you squeamish to think about killing it.

"Well, no." Soap says, immediately easing your anxiety about that. "I'll kill it if you don't want to. Just thought since you'd caught it and everything, you'd want to finish the job." He shrugs, looking back over at you again, almost like he waiting to see if you'd to change your mind.

You shake your head though. "No. I can't. I'm gonna feel so bad." Sure, you were responsible for catching it, and you were going to eat it, but for whatever reason, it was hard for you to kill innocent animals.

Soap gives you a look, but he quickly gets to work on getting his knife out to end the fish. "So you can kill people for a living but not a fish?" He questions, poking the knife through the gills and making a quick and clean cut. You have to look away when he does it. It still makes you uneasy.

"It's different when it's animals." You frown, risking a glance back to see if he was done. He was, and he was just tucking his knife back into his pocket. The fish was now still, blood dripping out of it where Soap made the cut.

"Don't go on missions with Ghost then." He mutters, tipping the fish upside down to let the fish bleed out better. It wouldn't take that long or at least the others didn't.

Soap's words pique your interest. You're well aware of how Ghost is. He's a very "do whatever it takes to get the job done" kind of guy. The way Soap says it though makes you think he's got a story.

"Why not?" You venture, tilting your head slightly. It's a gesture that makes Soap want to spare you, and you can see the slight hesitation in his eyes.

"Let's just say... he has no problem with shooting anything that might compromise him."

As vague as he's being, you understand pretty well. You know Price has given you the advice to shoot a dog if it was going to bark and alert others to your presence. Ghost most definitely stood by that principle. Honestly he was probably the one who told Price that in the first place.

You can't help but make a face at the thought of having to shoot an animal. "That... that sounds like him." You nod, leaving the conversation at that. You were just going to be sad if you kept talking about it.

"So... When can we get cooking?" You change the topic to something more appealing.

The second your mind goes back to food, you instantly get hungry. Your stomach makes this a well known fact too as it lets out a low and long rumble. It's been at least two hours since you decided to go fishing, and you're starving at this point.

Soap laughs as your stomach growls, his eyes flicking down as if he expected to see if rolling like it did in the cartoons. "We can start right now. Sounds like you won't make it much longer if we don't." He teases, an almost playful smirk tugging at his lips as he pinches your side lightly.

You swat his hand away as he pinches you and glare at him, which only makes him chuckle. "You gotta learn how to keep your hands to yourself." You huff as you follow behind him.

"Says the woman who can't seem to keep her hands off me." He laughs, glancing over his shoulder at you and raising a brow.

Your eyes widen at his words, and your cheeks start to burn a little. "Oh shut the fuck up. You act like you aren't equally as bad. If not worse!"

Soap huffs softly at your accusation as he places now the now fully bled out fish one of the logs in the stack of wood he's collected. "So you're not denying it?"

You freeze for just a moment, realizing in horror that you aren't. Has your whole dynamic with Soap really changed that much? Your mind struggles to come up with something to say back. You can't just deny it now that he's pointed it out.

So you deflect. You let out a groan and roll your eyes. "You're impossible, you know that?" You grumble, trying to sound indifferent, though the heat in your cheeks gives you away.

Soap just keeps smirking at you. "Aye, but I'm starting to think you like it." He answers cheekily as he wipes his hands off on his pants.

"Absolutely not." You shoot that down fast. "I'm only trying to be nice to you so you don't burn my fish."

"What makes you think I'm cooking your fish for you?" Soap huffs. "I caught most of them. Hell I even prepped all them while you were out there splashing around in the water. You can at least cook your own damn fish."

He picks up his fishing spear from the ground as he talks and works one of the fish onto the stick. It was the biggest fish too, but you weren't going to argue. He did technically catch it, and he ate a lot more than you did anyway.

"Fine. I can probably cook a fish better than you anyway." You shrug, walking over to grab one of the pre-prepped fish from the little pan Soap has placed them in.

"You wanna cook them all then?" He asks, offering the stick with his fish on it over to you.

You roll your eyes and push his hand away before taking your own fish and working it gently onto the your stick. "Just cook your own damn fish, Soap." You sigh, moving to the opposite side of the fire to cook your own fish.

You don't look back up at him, your eyes focused on making sure your fish doesn't burn to a crisp, but Soap smiles over at you through the fire.

***

You watch as the flames gently lick up over the fish, cooking the outsides to a slightly browned colored. It shouldn't take too long for the fish to cook, maybe only about ten minutes. It's already dripping juice down onto the burning logs though and the smell is incredible. It's the best thing you've smelled in years, and it's making your mouth water.

Time is passing by so slowly though. The longer you watch the fish cook, the more your stomach seems to feel like it's cramping up. You're about ready to just take it off the fire and risk eating it raw, but the last thing you want to do is give yourself food poisoning and have to wait it out for the rest of the few days you're here.

You watch as another drop leaves the fish and sizzles on some of the coals. In response, stomach lets off a particularly loud and long growl, one that makes Soap peak up over the fire at you.

"You hanging in there, States?" He asks, a slight chuckle in his voice.

You let out a low grunt in response, eyes fixed hungrily on the fish that's still not ready. "Barely," you mutter, frustration lacing your voice. Soap chuckles again, only adding to your annoyance. "It's taking forever." You grumble, and with a sigh, you flip the fish over, to cook the other side a little more.

"Mine's done."

Your head snaps up at that, disbelief etched across your face. Across the fire, Soap's wearing a smug grin as he pulls his fish off the flames and inspects it. You squint, trying to get a better look, but from where you're sitting, you can't tell if it's actually cooked or if he's just messing with you.

"How the hell is yours done already? We started at the same time!" You pout, unable to hide the hint of envy in your voice.

Soap huffs, that irritatingly self-satisfied grin never leaving his face. "Because I know what I'm doing." He replies matter-of-factly.

He glances down at his fish with a contented sigh. "Oh, this is gonna taste so good." He mumbles, and you watch as he begins blowing on it to cool it off.

You roll your eyes and slump back down, watching as your stubborn fish continues to sizzle over the flames. "Shut up, Soap." You mumble, the words almost drowned out by the grumbling of your empty stomach.

"Need some help?" He offers, that same infuriatingly amused tone coloring his voice. It only makes you bristle further.

"No." You snap, sharper than you intended. "Stop being an ass."

Soap's brows lift slightly, taken aback by your sudden outburst. A few minutes ago, you'd been lighthearted and playful, but now— He sighs softly, shoulders relaxing. "Alright, alright." The teasing drops from his voice, replaced by something gentler. "I was just messin'. No need to get all hangry on me."

You shoot him a half-hearted glare before dropping your gaze back to the fish, your irritation simmering low. "I'm not hangry."

"Uh-huh. Sure sounds like it." He murmurs, but his tone has shifted—more genuine, less needling. "C'mere, States. I've got hot coals over here. They'll cook your fish faster."

You hesitate, glancing over at him. You're still not happy with him, but you're also so hungry. You'd do almost anything to get your damn fish to cook faster so you can eat. Reluctantly, you sigh and stand up, walking over to where he's sitting.

When you settle beside him, Soap shifts slightly, carefully laying his own stick with the cooked fish against a log. Once it's balanced, he scoots closer to you, his thigh brushing against yours. The feeling makes your heart jump despite the previous frustration you were feeling towards him just a moment prior.

"Here, put the fish right above these coals." Soap instructs, his voice low. He points with one hand and gently adjusts your stick with the other. His fingers curl over yours as he guides it into place. Instead of focusing on where your fish is being placed by the coals, your eyes stay glued to where his hand lays over yours.

"There. It'll be done in no time." He says softly, his hand dropping away and resting back in his lap.

You shift your gaze back to your fish, noticing how much more intense the fire feels over here. The heat that radiates off the coals feels hotter and almost makes your cheeks burn.

While you're focused on your fish, you feel Soap shift back away from you for a second. When you look, you can see he's reached back over to get his fish. The sight of it, browned, charred, ready to eat, instantly makes your stomach growl again, and you catch Soap glance over at you, a little frown creasing his forehead.

Then, without a word, he nudges you gently. "Here." He says, holding out his perfectly cooked fish to you. "Eat this."

You blink, surprised. "What? But... you already—"

"I'll eat yours when it's done." He interrupts, his voice unusually gentle. "Go on, take it. You're starving, and I don't want you passing out on me or anything."

You look between him and the fish, a small frown forming on your lips. It was such a sweet gesture, and so uncharacteristic of him. You glance up to meet his eyes, finding they were already looking back at you, his gaze tender and warm.

When you still don't make a move to take the fish from him, his features soften even more. "States, either take the damn fish, or I'm gonna make you take it." He warns lightly, and you can tell he's not mad, but he's being serious.

His threat puts you at ease, and you smile. That was more like the Soap you knew. "Thanks." You murmur quietly, accepting the stick as he reaches over to grab yours in exchange.

The second the fish is in your hands, saliva starts to pool in your mouth. You don't waste any time, bringing it to your lips and taking a big, eager bite. The moment the warm, flaky fish hits your tongue, it's as if every sense lights up at once. It's not perfectly seasoned or delicately prepared—it's slightly charred on the edges and a little tough to bite off and chew. But after a week of bland MREs and tasteless food, this is the best thing you've eaten in your entire life.

A slight smoky flavor from the fire lingers on your tongue, and the little bit of salt you added before is just barely noticeable. You take a second bit and hum quietly in appreciation, barely able to suppress the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

Soap watches you for a moment, a soft and pleasant expression on his face. "Better?" He asks quietly.

You nod, still in the middle of chewing, eyes closed as you savor your current bite. "Yeah... thanks, Soap." You say mutter after a bit, feeling your earlier anger melt instantly. Maybe you were just hangry.

"No problem, hen." He murmurs sweetly, his gaze returning to the fish cooking on the coals and turning it over.

You glance back over at him, watching the side of his face. The flames cast an orangish glow to his cheeks and shadows to his jawline. It's strange how different he looks in this moment—maybe it's the firelight, or maybe it's just how at ease he seems, sitting beside you.

An unfamiliar warmth settles deeper in your chest, wrapping around your heart, filling you with a lightness you haven't felt in... you don't even know how long. It radiates through you, down to your fingertips and the tips of your toes, making you feel almost weightless.

You blink, suddenly aware of how much you enjoy being around Soap—how much you've come to look forward to these moments. The banter, the teasing, the soft simple moments like this one. The way he looks at you sometimes with something unspoken that you can't quite put your finger on.

You take a shaky breath to try and steady yourself, to shake off the warmth spreading through you, but it's no use. Being around Soap just... feels good. Better than you expected. Better than you'd let yourself admit until now.

He glances over, catching your gaze for a second, and a small smile tugs at his lips. "You alright, hen?" He asks, his tone light but laced with a quiet concern.

You nod quickly, looking away as your heart skips a beat. "Yeah, I'm good." You manage to say, though your voice sounds breathy.

Soap watches you a moment longer before going back to tending to the fish, seemingly unaware of the shift happening inside you. But you're aware. So painfully aware of how close he's sitting, of the warmth of his leg brushing against yours, of the subtle comfort that his presence brings. You can't shake the feeling that something's changed between you—you know something has. Something you can't quite name, but it's there, and it's only growing.

"There!" Soap's voice pulls your attention back to him. "All done. Told ya they'd cook faster over here." He smiles, blowing gently on the fish. He glances back to you as he does, noticing the barely touched fish, only sporting two bites, on the stick in your lap.

"How's the fish, lass? It looks like you've hardly touched it." He frowns. Knowing how hungry you were a moment before, he's a little surprised the entire thing wasn't completely gone by now.

You look back down at your fish, smiling a little. "It's really good. I'm just trying to make it last." You lift it back up to your lips to take another bite then, which makes Soap relax a bit.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells." He says softly, turning his over to look for a good place to dig in. He tries to take a small bite but immediately withdrawals, making a face. "Ah, way too fucking hot yet. Just burnt my tongue."

Without thinking, you hold out the fish you'd been eating to him. "Wanna take a bite?" You ask, it taking you a moment to realize what you were doing. By the time you do, it's far too late to take it back.

Soap looks at you with an amused sparkle in his eye and he laughs. "Nah, I don't wanna get your cooties." He teases lightly, making you roll your eyes at him despite the smile making your cheeks burn.

"Soap we've had sex and you've kissed me how many times now? You definitely have my cooties already. More aren't gonna hurt you." You tease right back. It makes him laugh harder, and he even throws his head back a little as he does.

"I guess I can't argue with that." He says as he comes down from his laughter. "Alright, give it here then."

He motions for you to hand the fish over, so you hold it out for him to take. Instead of just taking it from you though, he grabs around your hand and brings the fish up to his lips.

As he takes a bite, his eyes flick up to meet yours, locking as his teeth slowly sink in. Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him, eyes widened just the slightest. And Soap knows what it's doing to you. You see the corner of his lips twitch up into a smirk as he leans back, chewing slowly.

Your mind is scrambling for something to say to break this new tension that's formed. A tension that's not helping you sort through your newly discovered feelings.

"You.. you like it?" You find yourself saying, watching as he swipes his thumb across his bottom lip and sucks the juices off.

"Not a five star meal, but the best bloody thing I've had in a while." He chuckles. "We should have done this day one."

That makes you giggle a bit, and you relax slightly as you go back to eating peacefully. "I think I probably would have drown you in the lake if we went near it day one." You point out, remembering how absolutely angry he'd made you during the flight over and the walk to the cabin.

Soap laughs softly, attempting once more to eat his own fish and taking a tentative bite out of it. "I could see you trying." He says as he takes a small bite, making you narrow your eyes at him.

"Try? I totally could." You huff. You've never been allowed to spar each other before, Price wouldn't let you since he was worried you two would end up seriously hurting each other, but you feel like you can take him.

Soap huffs back and shakes his head. "States, you weigh nothing to me. I'm practically double your weight. Plus I'm taller than you. In water, I'm gonna win." He shrugs, taking another bite of his fish.

You scoff at him, wanting to argue, but he made a decent point. He'd have the advantage in water. "So you're saying on land I'd kick your ass then?" You raise your brow at him.

Soap gives you a side glance, then huffs through his nose and shakes his head, dismissing you easily. "Hell no. I'd beat you on land too. Without a doubt."

You roll your eyes. "You underestimate me. I could so pin you if we sparred." You say, with maybe a little too much confidence.

Soap pauses a moment, as if thinking, and then shrugs. "Alright. Let's spar then." He says, quickly catching your attention.

"What? Like right now?" You frown.

"Yeah, right now. Let's settle it."

"Oh..." You purse your lips together. Sure you were confident that you could take Soap in a sparring match, but maybe not in the middle of the woods. Or without mats. And definitely not with all the sexual tension between you lately.

"Maybe not right now." You say slowly. "We're eating, and I'm hungry. And tired." You shift a little where you're sitting, giving a half-hearted shrug. "It just wouldn't be a fair match."

You notice Soap beginning to grin as soon as the excuse leaves your lips. "Yeah, sure. Alright." He chuckles softly, leaving it at that as he settles back down to finish his fish.

***

The rest of the evening is spent cooking and eating the fish you caught. It was the most satisfying meal you've had since arriving to the cabin. It was going to be hard to go back to eating the MREs for the remaining few days, but there was also the potential to go out fishing again tomorrow. And hopefully you'd be quicker at catching them then.

By the time you're both done eating, the sun has almost set completely over the horizon. It's getting dark out, the only light coming from the moon and the fire that was still burning bright but slowly turning into only embers.

You sigh softly, your stomach feeling like it was ready to burst. "I ate way too much." You chuckle, resting a hand on your now protruding belly. "That was the best meal ever though."

Soap laughs softly as he finishes piling up all your scraps and utensils off to the side to be cleaned up later. "You ready to turn in for the night then, lass?" He asks, standing by the fire and looking down at you.

You hum softly in thought but then shake your head. "No. I think I want to stay out here a little longer. Disgust a bit before bed."

You really hadn't gotten the chance to enjoy the night air since you arrived. There was always something that kept you inside almost as soon as the sun began to set. It was such a peaceful night tonight too. You want to enjoy it and the bonfire a while longer.

Soap nods a little, and you watch as he goes back to the wood pile. "I'll put another log on for you then." He says, looking over the few pieces of wood that remained.

"Thanks." You smile, watching as he picks out a log and carries it over to the fire. He tries to place it gently as not to make the entire log pile collapse, but it's a vein effort since the second he sets it down, everything falls over, causing a bunch of sparks to flare up into the air.

You follow the trail of sparks up a little ways, far enough that your attention gets pulled to the sky. Above you, the stars are just starting to come out, and they're already so much brighter than what you'd ever see on base.

"Wow..." You breathe softly. "I never noticed all the stars you can see out here."

Soap looks up towards the sky as well, humming pleasantly. "It's pretty." He mumbles, and there's a brief of moment of silence that falls between you as you both admire the twinkling lights.

You almost forget where you are for a moment until Soap breaks the silence. "I can go grab a blanket and lay it out. That way you can lay down and not have to crane your neck to see." He offers.

You look back at him, warmth filling your chest at the sweet offer. You're starting to get used to this side of Soap.

"Yeah." You smile. "That'd be nice."

"Alright. I'll be back in a second." With that, he's off, walking back towards the cabin.

You watch his figure retreat until he disappears inside. Once he's out of sight, your gaze drops to watching the fire, a soft sigh leaving your lips. You find yourself hoping that he'll want to stay and star gaze with you for bit.

Before you can overthink too much about that thought, you hear the cabin door open and slam shut as Soap makes his way back over to you. In his arms, he carries the blanket from his sleeping roll. It was really the only blanket you had, but the fact he was willing to use it just so you could stargaze was a sweet concept.

"Where do you want it?" He asks once he's within ear shot from you. You're a little unprepared for his question and quickly start to glance around for an open spot to lay the blanket out.

"Oh.. uh.. maybe just right over here by the fire?" You motion to a somewhat cleared off area that's just a little ways away from the fire. You know the second you move away from the flames that you're gonna start getting cold, but hopefully you'll still be close enough to stay warm. 

Soap gets right to work on laying out the blanket where you've requested it to go, unfolding it and making sure it lays flat. When he's done, he stands up and motions down at it.

"There you go." He says simply as you get up and move to blanket. Kicking your shoes off, you step onto it and sit down.

"Thanks." You hum softly, moving around a bit to get comfortable.

Soap watches you a moment, still standing off to the side of the blanket. "It's not a problem, lass." He shrugs dismissively. "Just bring the blanket in when you're done. And put the fire out." He adds, making you instantly look back up at him.

"You're not staying?" You frown, disappointment settling heavily in your chest.

Soap pauses, almost like he was surprised you'd ask that. "Uh.. yeah. I was just gonna go in..." He says slowly. "Did... did you want me to stay?" He asks hesitantly, uncertain.

"Well... yeah." You answer him softly. Your voice sounds so much more vulnerable than you expected it to be. "I want you to stay. Or I wouldn't mind the company at least. You know in case the bear comes back or something."

You're rambling a little, which just makes Soap smile. He looks down towards his feet as he does and then starts kick his shoes off too.

"Alright. I guess I can watch the sky with you for a little while." He agrees, instantly making any nerves you had die off.

"Great." You sigh softly, smiling as he settles onto the blanket beside you, leaving a modest space as he lays back.

You lay back on the blanket too, already able to feel the cool ground quickly seeping through the blanket and into your backside. If you had the thermal liner, it'd be much better, but you don't feel like getting up to get it.

A silence settles between you as both your gazes fixate on the stars above you. Even though the stars were the whole reason you were out here still in the first place, you find your attention is more focused on the man next to you.

"Did you ever stargaze back in Scotland?" You find yourself asking, keeping your eyes on the sky.

"Maybe a bit?" Soap replies, and you can hear the rustle of his shoulders moving against the blanket as he shrugs. "I mean the stars in Scotland are beautiful. But I don't think I ever did something like this." He explains. "What about you?"

"Not really." You chuckle. "It's impossible to really get stars like this in the city. Even out in the country they aren't too bright. But I dated a guy once who took me stargazing before. Really it was just to make out though. I don't think he really intended on looking for constellations."

Soap hums softly. "I can't believe you had a guy who wanted to date you." He mutters.

You shoot him a glare and wack his chest, which makes Soap laugh. "Ass." You grumble, though you're smiling too. "I'll have you know I had a lot of suitors back in America."

"What was wrong with them?" He adds, making you wind up to hit his chest again. He flinches and holds his hands up defensively. "I'm only kidding!" He says through his laughter. "I don't doubt you had a lot of guys lined up to date you."

"I can't tell if you're being serious or not." You huff despite the smile on your face. You settle back down into your spot, listening as Soap does the same. It seems like he's closer now.

"I'm being serious." He confirms. "You're an attractive woman, States. Lots of guys like you. Hell, there's a lot of idiots back on base who have crushes on you."

You raise your brows in surprise. "Really?" You've never paid much attention to things like that before, or at least no one's ever made it obvious.

"Yeah, really. Gets annoying, honestly. You know how many guys outside our task force have asked me if you're single or if I can set them up with you?" He scoffs at the end, almost like just thinking about it was as annoying as the real thing.

"Do I even want to know what you've told them?" No guy had ever asked you out, so you're sure the things he said weren't very nice. There was no way Soap had played the knight in shining armor trying to protect you.

"Told 'em you were a bitch. That you were psychotic, smelled bad, snored in your sleep. Lots of stuff." He shrugs, as if saying those things wasn't a big deal. You have to admit though that it hurt to hear him admit that.

"No wonder I had no idea anyone was interested." You mutter, the hurt coming through in your tone a little despite you trying to hide it. You hear Soap's head shift as he looks over at you, but you keep your gaze on the sky.

"You wouldn't have wanted to date those men anyway, States. All of them just wanted in your pants. I wasn't gonna just let them use you like that."

You pause, taking in what he said. "Why would you do that? I thought you didn't like me."

Soap scoffs softly. "I didn't. But I'm not a total asshole. You're still part of my team, and I'm not about to let some horny pricks hurt you. That's my job." He tries to say it jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a little.

You roll your eyes, but there was something sweet about the whole thing. You couldn't really be upset with him for scaring off men like that, but still. It still hurt he said those things.

"Lucky me." You sigh, trying to push past it. It makes Soap chuckle softly, but he can still tell you're unhappy.

Soap looks back up at the sky, a brief silence settling before you. After a few seconds, he breaks it.

"You know, now I'm gonna have to start telling them other things to ward them off." He says, making you glance over at him.

"Why's that?" You venture curiously.

Soap seems to hesitant a second before he answers. "Well... cause you're really not that half bad. I mean you're still kinda annoying, but you're not too bad either."

As back handed as it sounded, it was one of the nicest things Soap has ever said to you. You find yourself smiling and almost swooning over those words.

"You're not so bad either, Soap." You mumble back, watching as a smile settles on his face too. Your gaze returns to the stars then, and you feel a sense of peace and contentment settle over you.

You lay there in silence for maybe a minute longer before you turn to look at Soap once more. "Did you finish your drawing from earlier?" You ask.

"Ehh, mostly. I didn't have time to finish the scenery." He says, his gaze staying fixed on the sky.

You hum softly, trying to work up the courage to ask to see it. You're not sure why, but it feels so personal to ask about seeing his artwork.

"Can I see it?" You finally ask in a soft voice, glancing back over to Soap. He looks back at you, almost seeming hesitant.

"You really want to?" He asks slowly, and you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously. "Ok. Yeah, sure." He nods.

Sitting up, he leans over towards where he last placed the book last, balanced on the wooden log he'd been sitting at earlier. "I'm not sure how well you'll be able to see it." He adds as he grabs it.

He makes a good point, it's now almost completely dark aside from the fire and a little light from the moon. You're hoping though that you're close enough to the fire to see most of the picture.

"That's alright. I still wanna see it." You tell him, sitting up and watching as he flips through a few pages to look for it. You wonder what else he's drawn since being here.

As soon as he finds it, he starts to scoot closer to you. "Here. This is what I was able to get done."

He hands the book over to you, and you take it from him. You have to angle the book a certain way towards the fire to see it, but the image slowly becomes illuminated.

It was a drawing of you. Out in the middle of the lake, spear in hand. The background isn't finished at all or even sketched out. The main focus of the drawing was you. And given the amount of time Soap had, which you assume hadn't been long, there was an impressive amount of detail.

Your heart skips in your chest as you study the image. Your cheeks are burning a little, but you can't help but smile. So he had been drawing you after all.

"You drew me?" You ask softly, eyes not leaving the page.

Next to you, Soap smiles a little. If you'd looked, you would have seen that his own cheeks were slightly pink. Though it could have just been the orange glow from the fire.

"Yeah. You were such a good model cause you were standing out there for so long." He jokes.

You huff softly and glare over at him. "I had a feeling you were drawing me." You grumble, turning your attention back to the drawing and studying more of the image. "It's really nice though. You must have sketched this in like five minutes."

Soap shrugs a little. "This took me longer than five minutes. I was working on it earlier. It's a little sloppy compared to some of my other drawings."

You glance back over at him. "Can I see the others?" You ask, and he chuckles a little before shrugging.

"Go ahead." He nods, and you start to slowly flip through his sketch book, looking over all the sketches he's done in the past five days.

A lot of them are sketches of the cabin and the lake. Some are half finished, others are very detailed. He's also drawn a few animals  and a few things from inside of the cabin, like the wood stove and a half finished sketch of what looks like your dining area.

As you look them over, a little breeze picks up, making you shiver. It was starting to get very cold out, and despite the fire being close by still, you were getting a little chilly.

Soap hears you shiver and looks up from watching you flip through the book. "Cold?" He asks, and you nod.

"Just a little." You admit, trying to shrug it off.

His eyes drift down to your practically bare legs, hardly covered by the pajama shorts you were wearing. "You know, pants would help." He teases, making you shake your head.

"You mean the pants that are damp still because you tackled me in the water earlier?" You raise an eyebrow at him, which makes him laugh.

"Ah. Right. Well, come here then." He says softly, his voice dipping lower as he shifts closer to you.

Before you can even react, his arm slides around your back, guiding you firmly into his side. You feel the warmth of his body almost immediately, seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and you stiffen for just a second as he adjusts his hold. His hand settles at the curve of your waist, fingers pressing gently into your side, not pulling you in too tight, but enough that your back is now pressed to his chest and side a bit.

You can feel his every breath and every flex of his muscles with every subtle movement he makes. You glance up at him, wide-eyed, but Soap's already looking back down at you.

"Better?" He murmurs, his voice a soft rumble that seems to vibrate right through you. His leg shifts then, brushing lightly against yours, and you're hyper-aware of how solid and strong his body feels beside you. Every point of contact—his arm around you, the slight pressure of his thigh against your knee, the way his breath is practically on you neck—sends a subtle shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold air.

"Uh..." You can't seem to form a coherent thought, let alone a response. All you can focus on is how close he is. The heat radiating off him, his scent— it's all making your head spin just a little.

Your heart hammers harder in your chest, the steady thump-thump-thump of it so loud you're sure he can hear it. You swallow, trying to clear the sudden dryness in your throat. "Yeah. Better." You finally manage to say, the words coming out quieter than you intend.

He gives you a small, almost satisfied smile, the corners of his mouth curving up just slightly. "Good."

You try to focus your attention back on the book, but it's pointless. You can't concentrate on the thing to save your life. You're doing everything you can to calm your heart down before it beats out of your chest. Just to play along, you absentmindedly turn to the next page of the sketch book, but you have no idea what's actually on the page.

Then his thumb starts to brush against your hip, and the simple motion sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your breath catch. Your heart pounds so loudly in your ears, and you're struggling to keep your breathing from increasing.

Soap shifts again, his thigh now fully against yours. He's so warm, like a living heater, though at this point it's hard to tell if you're warm from his body heat or something else.

Then you notice it. The fast thumps against your back. His heart hammering away in his own chest at the same rate that yours is. He's having the same reaction as you are. If you listen, you can hear him trying to control his breathing too. The sound is too choppy to be natural.

Knowing he's feeling the same way calms your own nerves immensely. Slowly, your body relaxes against his, and you begin to cuddle in closer to him. You tilt your head towards his just the slightest bit, and Soap presses his cheek down onto the top of your head.

You hear Soap exhale softly, like he's releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, and his arm tightens around you just a fraction more, the motion sending a fresh wave of warmth through your entire body. His fingers splay out across your side, the tips brushing lightly against your ribs, making your pulse flutter wildly.

Your eyes slowly close, the sketch book forgotten in your lap. You let yourself fully relax into Soap and soak up this feeling. You know it's attraction, or at least part of it is. You've felt this before with other men, but there's still something more there. Your body feels electric when he holds you like this. You've never felt that way before.

"States.."

Your name leaves Soap's lips, making your heart flutter up into your throat. You carefully tilt your head up, eyes meeting Soap's slowly. Once they do, it feels like you can't breathe. His eyes are so heavy with emotion you can't even think.

His hand, cold but gentle, touches your cheek. It's such a shocking contrast that it reminds you to breathe. He cups your jaw, keeping your head tilted up towards him, though you weren't planning on looking away.

"Oh, fuck it..."

He mumbles it so softly you're sure you wouldn't have heard him if you'd been a fraction of an inch further from him. Even if you hadn't, his actions spoke for him.

He closes whatever distance was between you fast. The first brush of his lips against yours is tentative, almost testing. They're soft, warmer than his hands, and the touch is light enough that you barely feel it at first.

Your lips make a soft, almost inaudible popping sound as they part. You're left with just a ghostly feeling of where his lips were and his  warm breath against them from his labored breathing as he gages your reaction.

You feel numb almost. Definitely like you're floating. Then a rush of emotion surges through you—excitement, confusion, desire, everything all at once. You feel a flush spread across your cheeks, a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire crackling nearby. You don't know what to say, don't know how to put into words what's racing through your head. So instead, you take a deep breath, steady yourself, and lean in.

This time, you're the one to close the distance. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, and your lips press against his, firmer than his first kiss, your eyes sliding shut as the world tilts on its axis. Soap stiffens for a heartbeat, a small, almost inaudible gasp escaping him. But then you feel him relax, his whole body seeming to melt against yours as he returns the kiss, his mouth moving slowly, carefully, against yours. There's still a hint of that same hesitation, but it's fading with every second.

You pull back an inch, just enough to catch your breath, and when you open your eyes, you find Soap staring down at you. His pupils are blown wide, dark with an intensity that takes your breath away. His lips are slightly parted, his breathing ragged, and the way he's looking at you sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

"This ok?" He asks breathily, his hand still gripping your jaw. He's nervous, you realize.

You give him a smile and gently move your fingers to the base of his hairline. His eyes struggle to not roll back as you play with the short hairs there.

"More than ok." You assure him, putting a light pressure on the back of his head and pulling his lips back down to yours. When they meet this time, Soap is smiling, and he almost seems to sigh against your lips.

You exchange a few more tender kisses but then something shifts. His hand on your waist starts to tighten, pulling you closer, and his lips press more firmly against yours, drawing in a quiet gasp from you.

The sound seems to spur him on. Soap's hand leaves your cheek to slip back into your hair, his fingers threading through it as he tilts your head just enough to deepen the kiss. Your own hands move to his shoulders, going between gripping them and cupping the sides of his neck. It's like every nerve ending in your body lights up the moment your lips touch, the sensation so intense it's almost dizzying.

You can feel the roughness of his stubble scrape lightly against your skin as his lips part against yours, coaxing your mouth open. The first slide of his tongue is a shock—a gentle, seeking motion that sends a thrill racing down your spine. You make a small sound, something between a whimper and a sigh, and Soap responds instantly. His tongue slips into your mouth, the taste of him invading your senses, and you find yourself pressing closer, desperate to feel more of him.

There's a soft, wet sound as his tongue tangles with yours, a quiet pop as he pulls back only to kiss you again, harder this time. His fingers tighten in your hair, his other hand moving from your waist to grip your hip, pulling you up into his lap. The motion sends a wave of heat crashing through you, your body arching slightly into his, and you gasp again, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he kisses you deeper.

Your hands move without thinking, sliding down to feel the hard muscle of his chest. From there, one hand slides up to the back of his neck again, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension in his muscles. Your other hand fists his shirt, knuckles brushing against the hard plane of his chest as you try to anchor yourself. It's overwhelming, the way he's kissing you—so intense, so utterly consuming. Every time you think you've caught your breath, he shifts, tilts his head, and the kiss changes, becomes something even deeper, more insistent.

You shift your hips slightly, wiggling down more into his lap. You slide right down onto a hard lump, and the feeling of it against your thigh and pelvis is unmistakable.

Soap makes a low sound deep in his throat, almost a growl, and the vibration of it against your lips sends another shudder through you. His hands move again, one sliding down your back, pressing you even closer against him, the other cupping the back of your head, holding you in place as if he can't bear the thought of you pulling away. You're not sure if you even could if you tried.

You feel his teeth graze your lower lip, a light nip that has you gasping into his mouth. He pulls back just enough to murmur something, the words lost, and then he's kissing you again, harder, fiercer, like he's trying to pour every unsaid word, every hidden feeling into the press of his lips.

It's not just a kiss. It's like a release of something that's been building for so long, something you've both been holding back without even realizing it. And now that the dam's broken, there's no stopping it. Soap's kisses are relentless, almost desperate, and you can feel your heart pounding so hard it's a wonder it hasn't burst right out of your chest.

You can't help it—you let out a small, breathless moan, and Soap freezes for just a second. His lips hover over yours, his breath mingling with yours as he stares up at you, eyes dark and filled with something that makes your stomach flip.

"States..." He whispers, voice rough and thick. He swallows, his gaze flicking down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. "You—"

Whatever he was going to say is lost as you lean up, capturing his mouth again. This time, you're the one pushing, deepening the kiss, your tongue sliding against his, tasting and teasing, drawing out another one of those low, rumbling sounds from deep in his chest. Soap's hand tightens in your hair, his arm wrapping fully around your waist, holding you so close you can feel the steady thud of his heart against your chest.

And then he's kissing you back with renewed intensity, the hand on your waist sliding down to your hip, fingers digging into your ass and making you gasp. He uses the leverage to pull you down harder against his bulge, and you're not sure if it's him or you, but your hips start rocking against him, bring a delicious friction to both of you.

It's dizzying, overwhelming, and yet you can't get enough. Your fingers slip up into his hair, tugging gently, and Soap groans softly against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coil and flex, the restraint in the way his hands hold you, as if he's struggling to keep himself in check.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and ragged against your lips. He's staring at you, eyes wide and almost wild, his chest heaving with every breath.

"Fuck, States..." He whispers, voice hoarse and raw, and the sound of it sends another shiver through you and a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your belly.

The way he's looking at you—like he's on the verge of losing control—makes your pulse skip, the intensity of it stealing your breath. His chest rises and falls rapidly, every breath a visible struggle to calm himself. But you can tell he's not calm. Not even close.

You can feel the tremor in his hands where they still hold you, the way his fingers dig in a little too tightly, like he's trying to ground himself.

"Soap..." You murmur his name softly, almost in a daze, watching as his eyes trail your body. He's barely holding back. You want him. Desperately. Every nerve in your body is singing for him to touch you, to keep going.

Soap's gaze flickers back up to yours. "I want this," he breathes, his voice low, strained. "I want you. So damn bad, States." He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion.

You carefully bring your hand up to cup his cheek and brush your thumb against his rough stubble. His eyes flutter shut at the tough, and he leans into your hand. 

"I want you too..." You breathe.

Soap's eyes open slowly, and when he looks at you, there's something vulnerable in his gaze. He swallows thickly, opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but hesitates. Whatever it is, he decides against it, his brow furrowing slightly before he just leans forward and captures your lips in a fierce kiss. It's almost like he's pouring all his unspoken words into it, the intensity of his grip on you saying everything he can't.

You mirror his sudden urgency for a moment, but then your hand comes up to gently cup his face, thumb brushing his cheek to slow him down. "Soap... wait..."

He pauses immediately, pulling back just enough to look up at you, confusion and concern flickering in his eyes. His chest is still heaving, breaths mingling with yours, but he stays still, waiting for you to continue.

"If we keep going, I want to do it slow. Not like the first time." You say gently, making his concern gaze soften quickly.

He leans in again, placing a few delicate kisses along your jaw, making his way to your ear. "Then let me take my time, aye?" He whispers, deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You nod weakly, eyes fluttering shut as he dips his head, mouth hovering just over the sensitive skin beneath your ear. His lips brush softly against your pulse, his wet tongue darting out and licking a small strip. "I want to feel every inch of you." He whispers, his voice deep and husky, making you whimper.

He starts to kiss at your pulse point, teeth dragging against the sensitive skin. "Wanna hear every sound you make... every little gasp and moan..." He trails off, his tone almost ragged now, as if he's struggling to keep himself in check. "Want to know exactly what makes you lose your mind, hen."

A breathless whine escapes you at his words, and you moan out his name. Not his callsign, his name.

"John..." You breathe, and his mouth stills, his lips hovering just over your skin. You feel his gaze on you, intense and searing, and when you force your eyes open, you find his face so close.

"S-sorry... just sli-"

"Say it again." He cuts you off.

"What?" You ask slowly, brows furrowed just a little.

"Say my name again." He elaborates, eyes growing heavy as he stares at you.

Hesitantly, you do as he asks. "John." You whisper.

His breath stutters, and for a moment, he just looks at you, something intense and almost awed flickering in his gaze. Then, with a soft groan, he dips his head, capturing your lips again in a slow, languid kiss that's completely different from the ones before. This isn't rushed or frantic; it's deliberate, controlled, as if he's savoring every second, every slide of his mouth against yours.

You sigh into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close. The kiss deepens, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips once more, and you part for him instantly, welcoming him in. He explores your mouth with a tenderness that has your heart skipping, each caress of his tongue sending pleasure zipping through you.

Your hips start to find a natural rhythm by themselves, rubbing against the warm hard lump that's been pressing up into you this entire time. Every gentle grind draws a soft but heavy, muffled sound from him, a deep, throaty hum from deep in his chest.

"God, States..." He breathes, pulling back just enough to press his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with desire, and the sight sends another wave of heat crashing through you. "I want to take my time, but fuck... you're making it so hard."

"I thought that was the whole point." You joke, a little grin forming on your lips. Soap looks confused for a moment but then a look of understanding crosses his face.

"You know what I'm talking about." He chuckles, shaking his head. His lips return to your neck, placing wet open mouthed kisses along your pulse point.

Your eyes flutter shut and you giggle softly, hands moving down to grip his shoulders. As amazing as his lips felt on your neck, you push him away. Soap looks up at you with heavy eyes, and you slide your hands down to his chest and gently start pushing him back to lay down. He stiffens up a little as you try, unsure of what you were doing.

"Let me, okay? Just... let me." You tell him softly, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate slightly. His muscles starts to relax under your fingertips, and he lets you push him back against the blanket. His eyes are fixated on yours the whole way down, hands sliding down your sides to settle on your hips and thighs.

Your heart is pounding as you stare down at him. He looks so good under you. You never believed in a million years that Soap would ever be nice to you let along let you be on top of him like this. You always imagined the only time he'd ever be under you was if you beat him in sparring. And he wouldn't be looking at you the way he is now.

There's something intoxicating about the way he watches you—like you're the only thing that exists for him right now. You shift your hips a little, adjusting your position just slightly so that you're more centered on his bulge. That movement alone makes his grip on your hips tighten significantly, and once you start grinding, he's a goner. The contact draws a low, rough sound from him, something between a growl and a groan, his head tipping back against the blanket.

"Fuck..." He breathes, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. His grip flexes, a barely restrained tremor running through his fingers. When his eyes open again, they're trained on where your hips meet. "Christ, States. You're killing me here." He growls out, his accent much thicker now.

You giggle softly, relishing in this power you have over him. "You're very impatient."

Soap rolls his eyes, his hands roaming your thighs a little as he continues to watch. "You would be too if a bonnie lass was grindin' on your dick." His hands drift to the hem of your shorts, giving them a gentle tug. "Now, how about we get these off you, hen."

You swallow hard, heart pounding in your chest, but you nod and rise up on your knees, letting him peel them down. His knuckles brushing against you as he goes, the sensation making heat pool between your legs.

He only manages to get them down to your mid thigh before he stops abruptly. "Oh hell's fucking bells..." He groans, his voice is little more than a husky rasp. "You just had to wear those, huh?"

You glance down at yourself, forgetting what you were even wearing. When your eyes settle on the delicate red lace of your underwear, heat rushes to your cheeks. It's the same pair Soap had grabbed when you'd been forced to repack your things. This wasn't something you picked out for him—hadn't even thought for a second you'd be here with him right now.

"I-I didn't plan this." You stutter, embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I just grabbed whatever was clean."

Soap hums softly, almost like he wasn't even fully listening to you. His gaze was on the red lacy pattern, thumbs tracing the hemline. "Doesn't matter." He mumbles. "These are staying on though. Gonna ruin 'em."

You can't help but scoff at him for that. "What's up with you and wanting to ruin my clothes?" You huff, stumbling forward just a little as Soap reaches around you to start undoing his pants. You hear the sound of the button and zipper coming undone and then feel Soap shuffling under you to pull them down.

"Less clothes you have, the better." He replies cheekily, his hands moving to your hips now that his pants are down. You know he's taken his underwear down too because you can feel his member's tip on your butt cheek, painting it with precum. "Hop off a second and get those shorts off. Leave the underwear on."

He gives your hip a little pat, and you do as he asks, swinging your leg off him and working them down your legs. "I like these, so play nice with them." You tell him, meaning to look at his face, but the some movement draws your focus.

You gasp softly, eyes focusing on where his hand is slowly stroking himself. He's completely hard, his shaft glistening from where his hand has smeared the precum. You feel dizzy from the sudden rush of arousal that hits you.

Soap grins as he watches your face, his stokes getting a little quicker and making a lewd wet sound with each stroke. "If I ruin them I'll buy you more." He promises, a smirk in his tone as he releases his member. "Now come here." He motions with his head for you to straddle him once more.

"You better." You grumble half heartedly, feeling dazed still from the image of him stroking himself. It only makes Soap chuckle.

Moving back over to him, you place your hands on his chest to help yourself balance as you swing your leg back over him. Soap takes your hips, guiding you back to hover over his member. You move your underwear aside for him, and he does the rest, his own hand guiding his member to your entrance.

He rubs it against you a little bit, trying to find your opening. Once it catches, he pushes up, and you wince a little as his bulbous tip starts to penetrate you. You hum a little when he suddenly pops inside, and Soap pauses, his thumb rubbing against your hip to try and sooth you.

"You alright?" He asks, his eyes struggling to look up at you instead of where his member is disappearing into you.

"Yeah." You nod. "I'm good. Just gotta go slow."

Soap hums softly, relaxing his hips to let you take over. "Take your time, hen. We've got all the time in the world right now." Even despite his sweet words, his gaze is heavy.

You sit up a little bit more to get a better angle to help him slide in. The new angle works wonders, and as you lift and lower yourself onto him, you take him a little deeper each time.

Every time you sink lower, Soap's breathing starts to pick up. His eyes are focused on where you're connected, his jaw tense and his hands beginning to grip your hips. By the time you're fully seated on him, he looks like he's barely hanging on.

"Fuck..." He groans, his head falling back as you pause to adjust to him. "You're squeezin' me so tight, States. Gonna make me blow before we even get started." He chuckles breathily.

You smile down at him. "Want me to climb off for a moment so you can gather yourself?" You ask, teasing attempting to lift your hips.

You don't make it an inch up before Soap slams you back down. "Do you fucking dare." He all but growls, making you giggle again. "Start moving. Otherwise I'm flipping us." He threatens.

You roll your eyes, but his threat gets you moving. You start grinding your hips, setting a slow and smooth rhythm. It feels nice, and Soap seems to be enjoying it too. His eyes fall shut after the first few rocks, and he a soft groan leaves his lips.

After a little while, you switch up the angle, leaning forward a bit and placing your hands on Soap's chest once more. This angle makes him brush against a whole different spot inside you, pulling a moan from your lips.

Soap's eyes snap open instantly as the sound leaves your lips, and your eyes lock together. You keep rocking gently, his hands pushing and pulling at your hips to help with the motion. His gaze is so intense, and the feeling of his member and rough pubic hairs against your clit are pushing you towards the edge already.

Your body starts to shake and you squeeze your eyes shut as the burning in your clit intensifies. "Fuck... Soap..." You whisper, panting softly as your gentle rocks turn a little more desperate.

"You gonna come for me?" He asks, his voice deep and accent thick. "Almost there States, just keep rocking those pretty hips."

He coaxes you, his hips now moving under yours, thrusting along with each movement you make.

You moan again, arms growing weak, which forces you to lean down onto your elbows, closer to Soap. His lips on your throat the second you're within reach, kissing and nipping at the tender skin, hands still digging into the flesh of your hips.

"Come on, lass. You can do it. Give me one. I'm right behind ya." He groans against your throat, his hips starting to snap up.

That's all it takes. You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the coil of pleasure tightens almost painfully low in your belly. Your entire body tenses, each thrust from Soap pushing you closer and closer until you can't hold it anymore. Your entire body tenses and then relaxes as a wave of pleasure washes over you.

A choked cry tears from your throat as you shatter around him, your body arching against his as an orgasm rips through you.

"Ahhh! John—! I'm.. I'm-" His name spills from your lips in a broken sob as your whole body pulses with pleasure. At the same time, Soap starts to snap up into you a little hard, drawing even more cries out of your lips.

It's overwhelming, mind-numbing, and all you can do is gasp and writhe atop him, every nerve ending alight as his hips continue to ram up into you.

You can hear Soap panting under you, his breath hitching every time your walls convulse around him. "Fucking hell. That's it States... that's it..." Soap pants, his eyes squeezing shut as your walls clench and flutter around him.

"Fuck! I'm gonna come!" His voice is strangled, almost hoarse. His thrusts turn into stuttering jerks as he nears his own release. "Don't stop, States! Fuck I'm so close..."

You take over, hips grinding almost wildly against him. You're starting to get overstimulated, but you don't care. You want to get him off.

"Come on, Johnny... come for me." You say through gasps, gripping his shoulders tightly as you watch his face twist into pleasure.

Soap groans loudly, his hips jerking up suddenly. He buries himself as deep as he can go, your name leaving your lips in a strangled groan. "Fuck! (Y/n)! I-I gonna.. I-"

His whole body tenses beneath you, a low, guttural groan rumbling in his chest as he spills inside you. You can feel each thick of rope shoot up into you, his length twitching and throbbing as he empties himself.

Then his hips fall back down against the blanket, and you collapse on top of him, burying your face into the side of his neck. He throws an arm around you, and for a moment, neither of you move, both caught in the aftershocks, riding out the last shivers of pleasure together.

"God, States..." He murmurs breathlessly, his fingers lazily tracing soothing patterns on your lower back. His chest heaves beneath yours, both of you still panting, bodies slick with sweat and utterly spent. He presses a lingering kiss to your temple, his lips soft and tender against your flushed skin. "Y'alright, hen?" He asks gently, voice hoarse with exhaustion.

You manage a weak nod, smiling against his neck. "Yeah... I'm good." You whisper, voice still trembling a little. "Really good."

He huffs a small, breathless laugh, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Glad you enjoyed yourself." He sighs, sounding content.

You hum gently in response, a small smile on your lips. The two of you stay like that for a while, legs tangled and wrapped up in each other's arms. His thumb continues its lazy circles along your spine, and you let out a contented sigh, relishing in the warmth and feeling of his heart beat becoming steady under your fingers.

Then he shifts slightly, and you hear him huff a breathy chuckle. "So much for stargazin', huh?" He teases softly, his voice laced with a playful warmth.

You snort. "Yeah, you're just as bad as the last guy who wanted to go stargazing with me." You can't help but grin, remembering your story from earlier. "Guess I'll never to be able to stargaze."

"Eh, we'll just have to make sure you're on the bottom next time." He replies cheekily, a grin spreading across his face.

You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but pause. "Next time?" You echo, face turning a little more serious.

Soap gazes up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. "Well let's be honest, there's been a lot of sexual tension between us lately. And with the history we have of having tension with each other, I'm sure there will be more."

You huff softly. "Almost sounds like you're hoping there will be more tension."

Soap grins at you. "I wouldn't mind it if it meant a pretty lass like you will bounce on my lap." He teases, reaching down to pinch your butt.

You blush a little at his words and then jolt in surprise as he pinches you, a little squeak leaving your lips. The movement makes both  of you moan in discomfort, bodies still very sensitive. Once the overstimulation settles, you look back down at him.

"So... you would want to do this again?" You ask slowly, curiously.

Soap's grin softens, and he shrugs one shoulder. "Aye... I, uh, wouldn't mind it," he mutters, gaze dropping. "This. Us." He swallows, hesitating. "It's... nice. I wouldn't mind spending more time with you."

His voice is quiet, almost tentative, and you find yourself staring at him, caught off guard by the sudden vulnerability in his words. It's rare to see him like this, so unsure and a little shy.

"Yeah... I wouldn't mind that either." You smile down at him, your words seeming to make him relax.

Soap smiles back at up you, his mouth opening to say something, but a shiver from you makes him pause. Now that you've come down from the high of having sex, the cool night air is beginning to bite at your sweat slicked skin. His brows furrow a bit, and he takes in the feeling of the goose pimpled skin of your thighs.

"Getting cold, lass?" He murmurs.

"Yeah... just a little." You admit, your shaky voice betraying you.

He hums thoughtfully and gives your hip a gentle squeeze. "Let's head inside then, yeah? Don't want you freezin' out here." He chuckles, rubbing your legs softly to try and warm you up a little.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." You chuckle, only now realizing that it's pitch black out. The fire has died down significantly, leaving only the moonlight. 

You place your hands on Soap's chest and sit up, entire body feeling heavy. Your legs especially feel weak as you move them under you to lift yourself off him.

Your slow movements make Soap chuckle softly, his hands moving to your hips to help you up. "Legs feeling a little weak there?" He grins, helping to lift you off his cock.

There's a soft pop as his cock slips out of you, and you wince at the odd sensation. Your entire space between your legs was sticky and sore.

"Maybe." You huff softly, even as you rely on Soap to help move you off him. He just rolls his eyes and hands you your shorts.

Once you're seated beside him, you try to clean yourself up best you can before moving your underwear back into place. Meanwhile, Soap is fixing himself up too. He's tucked himself back into his underwear, pulled his pants back up, and stood up.

He looks down at you, watching as you put your shorts back on. "Head on in, lass." He tells you softly once they're on. "I'll clean up out here, put the fire out. You head inside and clean up."

"I can help." You offer, making him smile as he holds out a hand to help you up. You take it gratefully, letting him pull you to your feet. "I can get the water to put out the fire."

Soap watches you take two wobbly steps and then laughs softly. "No, it's alright, hen." He insists, grabbing your wrist to stop you. "Besides, by the time I'm done here you might have just made it to the steps." He teases, noticing your slowed pace.

He's greatly exaggerating your speed. You're not that slow, but you get the feeling he's not gonna let you help. You're afraid his next move was gonna be carrying you inside, so you cave.

"Alright." You sigh. "I'll head in. See you in a bit." You chuckle, making your way back to the cabin.

Soap watching you leave, a grin on his face as he takes a moment to admire your little post sex waddle. "Be in in a minute!" He calls after you before getting to work.

It doesn't take you nearly as long to get to the cabin as Soap seemed to imply. Once inside, the first thing you do is change out of your soiled red panties and try to freshen up a little better. Then you get a fire going in the wood stove and peak out the window to see how Soap was doing. By the time you look, the fire is out, and he's on his way back.

Moving to your bed, which is still right next to his, you wait for him come in. A second or so later, the door opens and slams shut, and his heavy footfalls come to the bedroom.

He steps into the room and shuts the door, glancing over at you and smiling a bit. The blanket you were laying on earlier is rolled up and under his arm.

"Surprised to see you made it into bed." He jokes, dropping the roll onto your cot before moving back to the door to kick his shoes off.

You huff softly, taking the roll from him as he drops it off. "We're gonna have to go a lot more rounds if the goal is to paralyze me." You mumble, unfolding the blanket and trying to spreading it out over the cots.

Soap hums deeply from the door way, glancing back at you. "Don't tempt me, States. I'll take you again right now."

Your heart jumps in your chest. His words excite you way too much. "I just put on fresh underwear. You can wait till morning." You joke, which makes him laugh.

"First thing it is then." He chuckles, starting to get himself ready for bed. Which really just involved him stripping down to nothing but his underwear. You watch as he pulls his shirt off over his head.

"You waiting on me?" He asks, glancing back over as you once it was off. He noticed that you hadn't laid down yet.

You shrug a little. "Yeah, pretty much. I've gotten used to hearing you snore at night. Can't sleep without it now."

That makes Soap scoff as he tosses his shirt on the floor. "I don't snore." He claims, undoing his pants, stepping out of them, and kicking them aside. "You're the one who snores."

You roll your eyes, watching as he walks over to you. "I'll ask Ghost when we get back. He'll agree with me that you snore." You shoot back, shrinking away just a touch as he hovers over you a bit.

There's an amused grin on his face as he takes your chin gently. "Brat." He mutters, surprising you by placing a quick peck to your lips. You hadn't been expecting that at all.

Feeling flustered, your gaze drops as you try to collect yourself, though you quickly become distracted. You've never noticed it before, but Soap's chest is littered with scars. It makes sense given his profession, but the red firelight from the stove seems to accent them more.

"Wow..." You breathe, absentmindedly reaching out to trace one. "You've got so many." You whisper, making Soap drop his hand from your chin and look down at where your fingertips traced along a long white scar on his ribs.

"Yeah." He mutters. "My job is... pretty dangerous I guess." He shrugs, continuing to watch your fingers roam without stopping them.

"Are they all from your time in the service?" You ask, looking back up at him. You've only collected a few from your time in the army. Your only non-service related scar was one on your knee from falling off your bike as a kid.

Soap shrugs a little. "Most of them. Not all of them though." He answers you, stepping away from your touch to crawl over you and onto his cod. Your bed squeaks its horrid melody as he does, and you wince at the grading sound.

Once he's settled on his cot, and once it's silent, you look back at him. The firelight illuminates just one section of his face, showing off the long jagged scar on his chin. Gently, you reach out and touch it, making Soap quickly meet your gaze.

"How'd you get this one?" You ask softly, thumb tracing the faded silver-white line.

Soap seems to tense the second you touch it, his gaze locked onto your face. When the question leaves your lips, he sighs and takes your hand, moving it away from his face.

"It's a long story, hen." He sighs, his hand holding yours in his lap. He stares down at it instead of looking at you.

"We've got all night." You reason, which makes his lips twitch the slightest bit into a smile.

"It's also a sad one." He adds, his deep voice just above a whisper. It makes you pause, and you quickly notice the slumped posture he has suddenly.

"I'm a very empathetic person." You add softly, which makes him laugh softly. "But we also don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." You add.

Soap is silent for a moment, almost as if he's debating if he wants to talk or not. After a few minute long seconds, he finally sighs. "My... my childhood wasn't the best, States..."

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll @thepowers-kat-be

[solarmorrigan]

For the angst prompt if you’re still doing it:

“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.”

Please

Hello! I'm afraid this one might not have come out quite as seriously as the others (might be channeling all my Serious Angst Energy into my ongoing fic at the moment), but hopefully it's enjoyable, anyway??

[No warnings except maybe some unkind self-directed internal dialogue from Steve]

-

“Y’know,” Eddie drawls, looking Steve up and down where he’s standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the light of the front hall, “correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look especially busy.”

Steve, caught out in a lie, clearly having been sitting around at home in his sweats when he’d specifically told Eddie that he couldn’t come over tonight because he was busy, does the only thing he can think of: he keeps lying.

“I am,” he says.

“Uh huh.” The way Eddie draws the hum of his agreement out says that he doesn’t believe Steve in the slightest. “And what, if I may ask, are you busy with, dressed in loungewear and sitting at home?”

Scrambling, Steve reaches for the first excuse that comes to mind, something he’d heard his mother say to someone over the phone years ago, when he was still a kid and she’d still made excuses to get out of social engagements and stay home with him.

“I’m washing my hair.”

Eddie bites down on a laugh so quickly and so visibly, Steve is surprised his teeth don’t go right through his lip.

“Are you?” Eddie asks, voice gone high and tight with mirth.

“Yep,” Steve answers.

“Well, damn, I don’t know why you didn’t invite me along to help,” Eddie says, grinning at Steve. “I feel like I’ve proven my skill in that arena before.”

Steve stares at Eddie, mouth working, feeling slow and useless and out of ideas. “Uh…”

With a sigh, Eddie lets his smile drop. “Look, can I come inside?”

The jig is up, so Steve just nods and steps aside to let Eddie in.

“What are you even doing here?” Steve asks as he leads the way back to the living room, where he’d been sitting on the couch and moping.

“Steve, I knew you weren’t busy tonight. You’re kind of a terrible liar,” Eddie says.

And that isn’t strictly true; Steve is a great liar – as long as he doesn’t feel guilty about it. He’s never been good at lying to people he loves.

They sit down; Steve shoves the magazines he’d been pretending he would actually be able to focus on out of the way (more proof of his pathetic attempt at a lie), and Eddie—ever blunt, ever direct—jumps right in.

“So I kind of feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

Steve winces. “Not avoiding you, I’ve just been… limiting my time with you.”

Eddie looks stricken, and Steve would like to die, actually. Why did he phrase it that way?

“Did… I do something, or say something, or, like–”

“No!” Steve rushes to reassure him. “No, no, not at all, it’s nothing you did, you’re amazing, it’s not you, it’s…”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him. “It’s not me, it’s you?”

“I mean…” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Kind of, yeah.”

For a long moment, Eddie sits, brows furrowed, staring at Steve. Steve fights the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“I’m trying super hard to figure out what’s going on right now, but I’m kind of coming up blank,” Eddie finally admits. “Are we… Are we breaking up?”

“No!” Steve blurts again, reaching this time for Eddie’s hands, as if he can keep Eddie from realizing what a goddamn idiot he is and leaving if he just holds on tightly enough. “Shit, no, that’s – I’m completely fucking this up, that’s the opposite of what I want to happen, that’s why I’ve been limiting my time with you.”

Though Eddie’s hands have turned in Steve’s grip, automatically holding onto him, he stares at Steve as though he’s lost his mind, which is fair. “Okay,” Eddie says slowly, “I admit you have a little more experience with relationships than I do, but isn’t the point to spend as much time as possible with the person you’re dating? Because you like them?”

“It’s… Usually, I guess, yeah.” Steve shrugs, suddenly wishing maybe that he hadn’t taken Eddie’s hands, because now he can’t get away, can’t duck out from under those dark, searching eyes. He settles for staring down at their joined hands as he speaks. “It’s just – I can be… kind of a lot? I like someone and I just kind of slam my foot on the gas and don’t look back and that’s too much, I know, so I’ve been trying not to, like, overwhelm you, because I really, really don’t want you to get sick of me, and–”

“Who the hell told you that?” Eddie cuts in sharply.

Steve’s eyes snap back up, finding Eddie looking so thoroughly offended that he’s not sure what to make of it. “Told me what?”

“That you’re too much,” Eddie presses, his hands going tighter around Steve’s.

“Uh,” Steve says, uncertain of what kind of answer Eddie’s looking for. The fact that Steve goes all-in too quickly is just common knowledge; the fact that it overwhelms and annoys people is kind of a general consensus.

Eddie shakes his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t even matter. Don’t listen to them. Don’t you ever listen to them,” he says, low and intense. “You’re not going to overwhelm me, Steve. I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you, but the only way I’m gonna know for sure is if I get to have you around as often as possible for as long as you can stand me.”

The words, for a moment, don’t make any sense. No one has ever wanted Steve around that much; no one’s ever met him where he is in terms of hunger for companionship.

“You… want me around that often?” he asks, eyes flicking from Eddie’s face to their hands and back again.

“I want you around all the goddamn time. I want you when I wake up and when I go to sleep and when I’m having breakfast and when I’m doing shit around the house and when I’m playing a show and when I’m watching TV,” Eddie rattles off. “I’m not even exaggerating, it’s honestly kind of a problem.”

“A problem?” Steve asks, brows coming together in concern.

“It’s a problem because you’ve been limiting your time, thinking that I’m going to get tired of you.” Eddie disentangles their hands and reaches up to cup Steve’s jaw, palms soft and a little sweaty from their combined grip, but gentle—almost reverent—against his skin. “Sweetheart, I am never going to get tired of you.”

From anyone else, that would be hard to believe, but the way Eddie looks at him, dead-on and so fucking sincere, Steve can’t help but take the promise in with a hopeful flutter in his chest. He leans forward, pressing his mouth to Eddie’s, keeping the kiss chaste and slow before he pulls back to murmur, “Promise?”

“Promise,” Eddie answers immediately. “I promise, I promise, I promise.”

He tugs Steve forward after that, pushing and pulling him until he’s managed to lay out across the length of the couch and has situated Steve over him, lying on his chest like a weighted blanket. He sighs and wraps his arms around Steve, like he still wants to pull him closer.

“Perfect,” he says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, balancing his chin Eddie’s sternum so he can smile up at him.

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Now I just have to figure out how to keep you this close all the time.”

“Might be kinda tough,” Steve says, fighting to keep his smile from growing to ridiculous proportions.

“Eh.” Eddie shrugs, ducking down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m willing to take the time to figure it out.”

And somehow, Steve thinks that might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Trust — 2k words

Two for one deal au

-

"Do you really trust them?" Your brother asked you quietly, both of you sitting together on the hidden corner that lately had come to be your new "room". It was not yours by any means, and the both of you only spent three nights in it as of yet, but it had improvised beds for you and was were you were told to rest.

You did not need to ask who he was referring to. You knew he meant Sun and Moon, the two (one?) animatronics this room actually belonged to.

You can guess how that doubt rose up on his mind, with how friendly you had been acting with the two caretakers the last few days and nights you spent stuck on this damned mall. They even gave you your own little whiteboard for you to communicate with them, which you eye from where it lays on the ground near the far wall.

As friendly as you acted, you did not trust them.

Sure, the attention and care was nice, but there was no saying how long it'd last. You'd rather die than trust them — which was probably what would happen if you let your guard down, anyway. As aloof as you played, you were just as observant as your brother. Your lives depended on it.

There was no saying how long they would bother to keep up their show, or if they would turn around and start acting like just the same as the animatronics that hunted you down for sport as soon as you stepped a foot into this place. Of metal or not, as far as you know, they could be just as good as the adults you and your brother are always running from. They were bigger, faster — the best you could do was to get on their good side to give the two of you even the slightest chance.

You blink slowly, and finally shake your head at your brother's question.

He regards you quietly, and sighs with a scowl. You watch as he slowly lifts a finger to his mouth and chews on the tip of his nails — it doesn't look tasty at all, but you don't question him.

"We need to get out," he says in vain. The original plan had been to escape during the day, but the daycare attendants did not give you the chance. You don't know how they managed to keep you hidden for so long (your brother guessed they somehow messed with the cameras, and you don't understand enough to question it), but they take the two of you to the daycare when it's day, and back to this room when it's night. At least you think so, since there's no windows in this place. Regardless, they keep an eye on the two of you at all times. You hate it.

You do not answer your brother. There's nothing for you to say. Not like you said anything since coming here, anyway. Although you were never of much words, you used to at least talk to Star — however, now, the idea of talking to even him made your throat close up. You blamed it on the strange environment.

You pondered for a moment, and leaned forward, much to your brother's confusion. You refused to get up, but wiggled your way through the floor until you were able to reach your whiteboard. It was so incredibly dark you could barely see it, but your eyes were used to it enough to write. Hopefully Star would be able to read.

"And Freddy?" you write and show him. He takes a good moment to read it.

"... he is our safest bet right now," he answers sheepishly, avoiding your gaze. You knew Star trusted him more than you did, but you weren't sure how much you actually believed in what he said. You don't do much but shake your head. Your brother stares incredulously.

"If you've got any other plans I'm all ears," he says frustratedly, voice rising for a moment before he caught himself. You wipe the board and write again.

Or rather, draw.

A simple but understandable drawing: a bunny with a X on top of it.

The bunny lady needs to go.

"And how exactly do you think we should do that?" He asks you sarcastically. You know he already thought of every single option he could in the past two days. You've talked about this before. Plans with exploring at night with Freddy by your side — of maybe following Moon into his patrols, whatever that is. You both are yet to ask either of them to let you. You despise the need to ask, you know your brother does too. The plans were not fail proof, which is why you hadn't done it yet.

You do, however, remember Star's fazwatch getting messages every now and then when you walked around the first night, employees notes and costumers complaints. If you walk around, If you find more, then maybe you two can come up with something.

You just need to be careful with the rabbit lady that goes around at night.

You clean up your board, and write in it again.

"Let's go play in fazerblast tomorrow!! :D" you write cheerfully, expression not even close to match the tone as you turn it for him to read. He squints his eyes for a long moment to try and figure out what you had written. He then stares at you, confused beyond all hell as to where you are going with this.

"...sure, okay," he relents, waving his hand. "If those metal scraps even let us," sighing, he pats you in the head.

For good measure, you write again at the bottom of the board, this time not cleaning what you had written before, instead letting it sit along with the new text. "YAAY! YOUR THE BEST,"  you write big and excitedly, drawing happy faces and hearts along with it. You tried to make it look as if you were the happiest you could've been when writing this.

You don't know how adults work. Or animatronic adults, for what matter. Your bet is on the behavior you watched from far away — maybe if you look excited enough for something, they'll let you? Maybe if you ask really really nicely with the prettiest please and promise to behave your best?

Regardless, you put the board aside. You don't need a clock to tell it's late, and that your brother is tired. Moon should be coming back soon, too, and is for the best if neither of you are awake when that happens.

You push your brother with little to no strength, a way to tell him to lay back down on the improvised mattress. He resists it a first, grumbling and sighing loudly as a way to show his displeasure in having to do, but eventually lays back down. You pull the blanket up to his chest and pat it twice, shooting him a smile. You lay down on his side, hand pressed to his chest for as long as it took for him to fall asleep.

When he did, you sat up, ignoring how offended your brother would have been if he knew. You crawl your way to the tube entrance of the room and sit down in front of it, staring outside. It was pitch black, and you could not see a single thing — still, you felt safer keeping your eyes on it for a while longer.

You doodled stars on the edges of your whiteboard to escape the boredom, the only thing keeping you company being your brother's light snores. There was not even a clock to tick.

Putting your board down to your side eventually, you lay your upper half on the tube entrance, crossing your arms over each other and laying your head on them. You just had to wait for the moon to come back.

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

You're not sure when you fell asleep, you hadn't meant to. Still, you slowly blink awake as you feel soft red light engulf you. Hazedly you open your eyes, only to find artificial ones staring back at you from the other end of the tube.

You startle badly, practically throwing yourself backwards at the somewhat familiar yet unexpected sight. The air catches in your throat as panic builds up steadily at the bottom of your ribcage.

Moon's face plate tilts slowly to the side, and he hold his hands up where you can see them. He glances apologetically at you, even if all your half-awake mind can focus is how there's a red eyed creature staring at you in the pitch blackness of a room you're locked into.

You let out a deep breath, though, once you hear the cling of the bells. You allow your gaze to fall to the small golden-ish circles sew to the ribbons on his wrist, attention caught by the way it reflects the led lights that emanates from his eyes. You don't know when it started or why so quick, but that was a sound you associated with him. With them. And for now, they meant safety, as dubious as it was.

You stared at his optics again, taking another deep breath, shoulders relaxing and letting go of the building up tension in it. You did not flinch away when he carefully, slowly placed one hand at the end of the entrance, looking at you for a moment as if asking permission to enter. When you did not protest, he pushed forward at a turtle's pace, finally stepping into the room after what felt like forever, but you appreciated nonetheless.

After the shock passed, you felt the tiredness pounding on your head all over again. You thought you would've been fine, but seems like taking a short nap got your body craving more rest. You rubbed your heavy eyes, much more reluctant on keeping them open at all now that there was another person with you. You were too tired to think about how bad that fact was to your whole not-trust-them plan.

Moon shushed you gently, metallic fingers running through your braids with care. He tells you that's no place to sleep, and that you should get back to bed — that it's alright now, he's here. As you simply nod at his words, you fail to notice him eyeing the little with board he almost crushed when stepping in. He pays attention to it for only a moment before carefully putting it to the side, out of the way.

You crawl your way back to the improvised mattress, next to where your brother still laid sound asleep, snoring quietly. He twitches slightly as you sit down, eyes opening for a mere second to see who it was — when he confirms it's only you, he's fast under again.

You lay down, stretching your arm to grab a plushie you had been keeping close these past couple of days — it was a Sun plushie, given to you during naptime and that you now claimed as your own. You bring the toy close to your chest as you hug it, and you feel the covers being pulled over you as Moon tucks you in.

Looking at his face, you see nothing but softness reflecting back at you through now white eyes. For that, you give him a smile. You can't tell him goodnight as you would've liked to, so you just pat his hand before yawning and turning to your side.

It takes only a minute for you to fall under into deep sleep. You did not need a music box this time around.

Already asleep, you are unable to see how the animatronic carefully sits itself at opposite end of the room, leaning against the wall. His head clicks curiously as he glanced at your board, which was empty when he left.

Such a silly thing, but the entire board was happily filled into the prospect of it.

Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to let you walk around for a little while.

[mymainwastoocluttered]

Birthday Cake (Ortho Shroud)

There's actually a tradition about birthday cakes back where the Prefect comes from.

Original idea by @strawberry-pie-thoughts

NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!

Ortho knows all of his brother’s fidgets. And the one Idia is doing right now is the one that means “I’m trying to hide something but I’m too emotional over it to hide properly”, which makes the younger Shroud’s curiosity flare each passing second.

“Brother, what’s the matter?”

“Nuthin’.”

Yet that’s the answer he gets every time. That and a nervous shrug that means “please don’t pressure me into telling you because I will and then I’ll feel bad about it.” At least, Ortho consoles himself, that means whatever his brother is hiding isn’t anything bad or dangerous, just possibly mildly inconvenient. Ortho can deal with “mildly inconvenient”, specially for the sake of his introverted brother who agreed on throwing a party tomorrow at Ignihyde for Ortho’s birthday despite dreading any sort of social event.

Ortho hasn’t had his emotional capacity for very long, but considering what his friends and the internet said, Idia’s efforts are the greatest show of love—not that Ortho ever doubted his brother’s love for him, but it feels good to be reminded. Plus, and this is something he’ll guard in his heart for himself, it feels like Idia is actually seeing him and not him. He truly sees Ortho for who he is, and loves him for him.

“Ortho, it’s past midnight,” Idia’s voice gets Ortho out of his thoughts—getting lost inside his own thoughts, quite the novelty—, prompting the boy to look at the time.

“It is! That means I’m not one year older!”

“Yep, you’re now officially seventeen. Happy birthday, Ortho.”

He can’t help but hug his brother tightly, too happy for words—and too overwhelmed by emotions to even try, even though he has up to 20 languages fully saved in his database. Words also can’t describe the feeling he gets when his brother hugs him back, whispering well wishes under his breath—too shy to say them out loud but too loving to not say them at all.

“We know you’ll have a party later, but we wanted to do something special first…”

“We?”

Just as Idia lets go of him, the door of Idia’s room open to show his girlfriend—and Ortho’s hopefully soon to be sister-in-law—, Prefect (Y/N) (L/N), holding what seems to be… a cake? It’s difficult to tell, because the decorations on it—stars and trees and three figures that look suspiciously like Ortho, Idia and (Y/N) sitting around a bonfire—are moving and if he concentrates, he can hear a soft whirring sound from it.

“Happy Birthday, Ortho!” the girl squeals, handing the cake(?) to Idia so she can squeeze the younger boy into a hug and place very enthusiastic kisses all over his face. “You’re growing up so fast!”

“Technically, I’m still the same size-”

“Mentally and emotionally, dear.”

“Oh. Thank you!”

Though he will admit to already drawing up some designs for future bodies. He can’t look like a child forever, now can he?

“We know you can’t actually eat—yet, anyways. Who knows what will happen in the world of tech?” she winks at his brother, who tries to hide his blushing face behind the cake(?), forgetting that his hair gives his emotions away. “But I remember you really liked the first slice tradition from my country when I told you about it, so we made that sculpture. There’s a part that’s removable, so you can give it to whoever you want~”

Human memory is way more fickle than an android’s, and yet these two did their best to remember something so small and seemingly insignificant. Just to make Ortho happy.

“... I may not have tears, but I feel like I’m crying…”

The couple is quick to hug him, and Ortho has never been happier to be able to feel.

“... can the first slice go to two people?”

“I told you we should separate it in two, tech genius.”

“But then it wouldn’t be the first slice, but the first and second.”

“It’s fine, I can just laser it in half!”

“Ortho, no!”

[doublesunsets]

Wild Nights

Crosshair x female!reader PWP - NSFW Word Count: 2k

Request from @freesia-writes

(...) either Crosshair or Hunter taking their time absolutely tantalising a fem reader until she’s nearly feral… You can “finish” or not.

Note: Hopefully it gets close to what you had in mind, Free! I'm not so sure about the tantalising part, but there's definitely some teasing 😁.

I have no idea what happened here, Crosshair wanted that, don't ask me. It went a little bit out of hand, so I turned it into a proper one-shot. First time writing Crosshair, please be kind, he is hard (no pun intended). Extremely indulgent. Training room fantasies, am I right? Timeline is before Order 66, in case anyone wants to know.

This was so much fun, thank you again for the request! 💜 -Sunset

✩Ao3 Link

The drops of sweat fell down your neck as you tried to stabilise your heart. You knew what to do, deep breath, one, two, let it out, and your heart slowly went back to its normal rhythm. The rain threw itself to the floor to ceiling window of the training room, while the waves crashed as well, making it impossible to distinguish which way was the water coming from. You hated being stationed in Kamino, it was like being trapped inside a gigantic washing cycle. Only storms and sleepless nights spent alone in a training room.

“Odd hours for a training session.”

The deep voice startled you, and you turned around quickly. Its owner was watching you, lounging at the door like a wave just brought him there. He was… strange for a clone, was he even a clone? Maybe he was a bounty hunter like you, but then why would he be wearing the black glove of the Republic? He had to be. Those muscles were too perfect to not be engineered, and those legs looked good enough to—

“Are you done?”

You spluttered, embarrassed at being caught ogling him, and put your hands on your hips in an attempt to command some respect. “Identify yourself, trooper.”

“Crosshair.” He squared his shoulders and entered the room, letting the door slide close after him. “I know who you are, I’ve seen you training regs.”

“Is that what you want? Some training?”

“There’s nothing you could teach me.” He took a studiously slow step towards you and you repressed the urge to take one back. Something about the way he moved made him look dangerous, even if he was unarmed. “But there is something that I want. You.”

“Is that so?”

“Let’s say, I have you in my scope.” The mirth in his eyes told you there was a joke there that you were not getting, but the tone of his voice didn’t let any doubt about what he was actually saying.

“Please, you wouldn’t even know what to do with me,” your tone of voice matched his sassy one to your surprise. Why were you enabling him? Oh, Maker, were you flirting? Were overconfident clones your type tonight?

He stopped in front of you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, a high contrast with the cold room. “We could make it a game. We could see how long it takes until I turn you into a whimpering mess.”

While he spoke, he started circling around you, a brief touch to your arm, his fingers drawing the curve of your hip. When he reached your other side, you looked over your shoulder to his warm eyes. By the suns, he was smoking hot. His white hair fell down on his forehead, and it was blinding under the neon lights of the facility. Blast it, if he wanted to play, you could play. What he was offering was definitely better than training by yourself, there was nothing wrong in taking it. You raised your chin and turned to face him, and he took it as the permission it was. He half-smiled, the corner of his lip barely pulling up, and circled your wrist with his fingers.

“Good choice.”

“You sure think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

He didn’t respond, just let his fingers travel up, through the back of your arm, with enough pressure that the contact felt oddly grounding. From your shoulder, he followed then the angle of your collarbone to the hollow of your neck and rested his palm flat there, on top of your breastbone, his fingertips just grazing your neck.

It made you feel conscious about your heart, which was thundering against his palm. Deep breath, one, two, let it out. He made a non-committal noise, and his hand slid up your neck until his nails grazed the hair of your nape, his thumb resting under your jawbone. He put some pressure into it and you allowed him to lift your head.

Meticulously, he bowed his head to you and his breath fanned over your neck. You waited for lips that never came.

“Are you not going to do anything?” You told him, tone annoyed despite yourself. He was getting under your skin too fast for your liking.

“I am.” His lips were still not touching you, but for a second you felt the tip of his nose trace the skin under your ear.

“A conversationalist.”

Crosshair huffed and before you could make another sarcastic comment about it, he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, making your back collide with his chest. His hand was grabbing now the front of your neck, still forcing your head up, which rested on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and felt his strong body at your back, a solid wall that burned like the scorching sand of Tatooine. His chest was still, almost like he wasn’t breathing, barely moving, and while he was not choking you, the strength and precision of those fingers was clear to you. A thrill went down your spine at the thought.

“You are a sniper.”

He actually chuckled at that, and got closer to your ear, brushing his lips softly against its shell, lowering his sibilant voice. “Clever girl.”

You reached back and clawed at his thighs, but he clearly wasn’t planning on rushing. He started tracing down your figure with his free hand, the curve of your breast, down your stomach, and over your hipbone. One finger sneaked itself under the waistband of your leggings, and stayed there. As a promise.

He barely had touched you but you felt your knees weak already, and refused to let him know that. Trying to break your resolution, his lips dropped to your pulse point, delicately, and a whimper struggled to escape your throat. You swallowed it down in a harsh breath, but your nails sank down harder into the firm muscle. He didn’t flinch, though, Crosshair carried on down your neck, turning them into wet kisses and leaving a trail that quickly cooled down on your skin. The goosebumps were because of that, you lied to yourself.

“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” he hissed, almost like he was talking to himself. “Seeing those regs poor attempts at flirting with you was painful to watch. Someone as extraordinary as yourself deserves only extraordinary things.”

“And are you?” You breathed, wetting your lips. “Extraordinary?”

“You have no idea.”

A thunder reverberated in the room and you gasped, pushing yourself harder against him. His hand took advantage of it and abandoned your neck, travelling down to your breast, and started kneading it over your clothes.

The solid presence of his body behind you exuded power and confidence, he had you in his hands, quite literally, and he hadn’t needed to do anything. The most intoxicating feeling was the delicacy of his movement and what hid behind it. Because you could feel the restraint, the tension in his body. You realised, then. This man could wreck you, take you with the same violence as the storm outside, but instead he was waiting, like a snake coiled, ready to strike.

He knew what he was doing, he was waiting, looking through his scope. Waiting until you put yourself in front of his crosshair so he had a clean shot.

The bastard wanted you to beg.

You tried to breathe. One, two. Your legs were trembling. One, two. He bit your earlobe. One, two. He pinched your nipple. One, two. Dank Farrik.

“Crosshair, I need yo—“

You didn’t have to finish your sentence.

In a smooth movement, his hand sneaked inside your clothes and grabbed firmly your whole cunt. A whine left your throat and you heard him snickering behind you.

“Still not moaning,” you told him, breathless, but steady.

“You speak with too much dignity for someone this wet for me.”

You felt his fingers slid between your labia, through that wetness that sure enough was there, probably since the moment those eyes pierced into yours. Finally, unhurriedly, he penetrated you with two fingers, finding no resistance, only a warm and drenched welcome. You wanted to scream at him to move faster, but refused to give him the satisfaction and grabbed his thighs, enveloping them completely this time, and squeezed hard.

“You are missing the show,” he rasped, while he started kissing your neck again.

It took you a moment to realise what he meant, his fingers were only barely intruding and his kisses were more a dragging of lips, but your mind was drunk with his presence. You opened your eyes and there, in front of you, you saw yourself. Reflected in the window, with the storm as a background, and Crosshair right behind you. One hand between your legs, while the other grabbed your breast desperately, he returned your gaze.

And he looked devastated.

The visual crumbled your resolve, without looking away you opened your mouth and the lewd sounds he wanted came out of it. He closed his eyes and buried his face in your hair, and you felt a sigh break loose. Crosshair dragged his fingers out of you, and dead on target went directly to your clit and circled it in tight motions almost violently. Your body jerked in his arms, after all the pent-up sensations the intensity hit you perfectly, and soon a fire began to concentrate in you, begging to spread out.

You were dimly aware of Crosshair humping your behind, panting heavily still with his face hidden in your hair, while the frantic pace of his fingers started to match the rhythm of his hips. Your moans were not the only sound in the room now and hearing him whimper against your skin was almost enough to take you over the edge. Almost.

Emboldened and a little bit desperate for your release, you lifted your arm and reached behind you, grabbing his hair and yanking until his face was next to yours. He hissed but it was silenced quickly by your bruising kiss, that he accepted enthusiastically. The moment your lips parted, his tongue invaded your mouth and you yanked at his hair again while a white heat spread like wildfire inside you. Crosshair swallowed your scream, and kept massaging you until you rode it out completely.

By the time you came back, he had stopped humping against you and was simply slumped over your shoulder, hugging you from behind, one hand still inside your clothes. You were still pulling at his hair, so you untangled your fingers gently and stroked the side of his head.

“I don’t know how this game of yours worked, but I feel like I won,” you whispered.

You heard a dry chuckle as his body vibrated slightly against yours.

Outside, the storm had subsided a little bit.

*

Your new assignment was supposed to meet you at Hangar-19 ten minutes ago. If you were lucky enough, they had left already and you could go back to bed, you thought to yourself, strolling leisurely through the halls of Tipoca City. You were not in the mood to start a several rotations mission with a new team.

The bastard, as you had started calling him, left shortly after your encounter with flimsy excuses about early calls. You had wanted to search for him in the database, only to realise that he never told you his number, so you had no way of finding him.

When you arrived at the hangar, an Omicron-class attack shuttle threw your hopes out into the ocean. Their owners, clad in black armour, were waiting for you at the ramp and one of them approached you while you tried to remember the rank and name they had given you. Maybe you should have read further than the two first lines.

“I’ve been told to meet with my new assignment here, Sergeant…”

“Hunter. We were expecting you, yes.” He turned and your eyes followed the direction of his hand to the rest of the team. “This is Clone Forc-“

“Crosshair!” You gasped as his white hair came into view when he removed his helmet. Crosshair smirked and puffed out his chest at your reaction.

“Ah! You know her? Nice!”

“This explains where you were last night.”

Your new assignment looked pretty interesting out of the sudden.

Tag list (reminder to let me know if you are not interested in being tagged or if you want to be included!)

@motte-the-goblin @fenharel-enaste @nahoney22

[jamiesfootball]

Whumptober Easy Mode Edition

Day 2: Trust Issues

Going into Whumptober, I knew I wouldn't be able to fill every day's prompt. However, my discord group is doing daily discussions on each day's prompts, so my goal for the month is to at least play with the ideas and then share a little ditty about them on tumblr. If they get written in the future, great! If not, we can at least all have fun playing in the sandbox together

And then today's idea snowballed and it's actually longer than some of the fics I've posted - it's just gonna be like that sometimes. I talk a lot on discord.

So for today I have in mind an AU of the story I posted for day 1:

What if Ted had tried to reach out to Jamie after he was sent back to Manchester? What if he succeeded?

The general idea is that once Jamie leaves, Ted does keep attempting to reach out to him – at first with well-meant voicemails that Jamie reads the worst into, but then via annoyingly chipper text messages.

The problem is that the nicer Ted is, the more Jamie thinks he’s rubbing his face in it.

“Caught your game last night! I know you weren’t on the field much, but boy you made an impression on those spurs. Way to go, bud!”

To which Jamie hears Ted delighting in his severely reduced minutes, sarcastically mocking him for drawing a foul in the last ten minutes. Disguising mind games behind a facade of kindness.

He already got suckered in by that once. Look where letting people in got him. 

He has no way of knowing that Ted actually cares (except Ted insisting he does, of course). More than that, he has no idea that Ted feels guilty for him getting sent off like that without warning (Jamie doesn’t know what’s going on behind the scenes at Richmond, and Ted is taking full responsibility for the fact that Rebecca ‘misunderstood’ whether Ted wanted to keep Jamie.)

But if Ted thinks that his insistent ‘Good luck out there today!’s are going to somehow get into Jamie’s head, or even trick Jamie into giving up details about City, then he’s sorely mistaken.

In fact, Jamie’s going to take this opportunity to tell Ted exactly what he thinks of him.

So they fall into a pattern:

Ted watches all of Jamie’s matches, even the ones where he doesn’t play. He sends encouragement and cute gifs that make Jamie’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

In return, Jamie watches all of Ted’s matches and interviews. He unleashes insults. He mocks Ted’s ability as a coach and the team’s inability to score a fucking goal without him, and he never misses a chance to point out that Roy Kent is a hairy old twat past his prime.

To his horror this only makes Ted start bringing up Jamie in his interviews, talking about how impressed he is with Jamie’s performance and how he does know one thing that Pep doesn’t seem to know: that that kid’s gonna be a star one day.

(Ted doesn’t think for a second how the fuck that’s going to land for Jamie when he goes back into the dressing room. Fucking hell, Ted)

But then the thing about Manchester is that Jamie really didn’t know how good he had it at Richmond until suddenly he had to deal with his dad being around all the fucking time. And it’s absolutely eroding him, like roadkill getting dragged under the wheels of a car.

So one day he has a match where he gets to play the full ninety. Should be a good thing, right? He can finally show off, and hopefully it’ll help him shake off the weird funk he’s been in lately (trouble sleeping, trouble eating, jumpy as hell, and he can’t seem to focus on anything. Normal, but fuck it hasn't been this bad in a long time)

Instead what happens is he goes out and plays the worst 90 minutes of football he’s had all season. Possibly in his entire life.

He never stood a chance. With other players out on injury, it was a guarantee he’d play, and the opposing team came prepared for blood. 

Honestly, with the exception of one very bad moment, he wasn’t awful. Maybe 60-70% of what he’s been putting up all season. Not great, but he hasn’t had a full game with this team literally all season and his head is in a funky place and he’s stressed out.

But the match is a train wreck, and his dad lets him know it. He rips into Jamie like he’s nothing more than a wet newspaper left out overnight.

The cherry on the situation is when he gets home and checks his phone, he finds that Lasso didn’t even bother to send one of his condescending messages about how ‘great’ he played. That’s how bad he played – even lasso feels guilty taking the piss out of him.

Later that night when he’s licking his wounds and rewatching match coverage on Sky sports for the upteenth time, Jamie decides that no, actually, that’s not fucking fair. If Ted’s going to jerk him around then he needs to commit, he’s not allowed to go radio silent just because he feels bad for Jamie or he pities him or something.

He sends an absolutely scathing text message in this respect.

Meanwhile back in London, Ted also had a Bad Day. His marriage is officially dissolved, custody agreements inked and everything. He’s been antsy all day, and to make matters worse him and Beard had a– well, not a fight, exactly, but a cautioning. Beard knows that he’s been texting Jamie, trying to keep in touch with him, and he questions Ted as to whether he thinks that’s wise. He knows what sort of responses Ted gets out of Jamie, and while Ted brushes them off-

“He’s a bit feisty, but if you look past the bark, he’s not so bad. Hell if you edit out some of the profanity, he’s got some pretty good ideas for Richmond mixed in. Well, between taking pot shots at Roy, that is.”

– Beard thinks Ted is maybe letting himself be a bit of a punching bag out of misplaced guilt surrounding the circumstances of his leaving.

“Wow, you’re not mincing words today, huh?”

But between one thing and another, it all gets jumbled up Ted’s head. Later that night he has a conversation with Henry and it goes- fine. Forced. Feels like they’re just stuck in the same old pattern of Ted asking about school and then a few question about Michelle. Then it’s time for Henry’s day to start just as Ted’s is ending, and maybe he’ll pour himself a drink. Maybe he’s been drinking a bit more than he should be lately.

Mostly he feels like a scooped out person today. It’s not until he gets the text from Jamie that Ted realizes oh shoot, that’s right. Jamie had a match. He better get on that really quick.

Double-time, if the amount of acid of that text is any indication. The fact that Jamie reached out first at all is a concern in itself.

Despite what Beard accused him of (which does have some truth to it, if he’s being honest), Ted does, genuinely, enjoy talking to Jamie. He’s a sharp kid with his own point of view and a unique way of putting things together. Ted wouldn’t want to hurt Beard’s feelings by saying it, but Ted’s always learned better with a visual aid, and between watching Jamie’s matches and hearing Jamie talk unfiltered about Richmond’s performance, Ted thinks something’s finally starting to click for him when it comes to this silly little game they call football.

Or at least it’s clicked enough that when he watches the replay of Jamie’s match, his response is a very emphatic, “Oof.”

“Hey, bud. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. It’s just been a long day. I just watched your match, and wooh-boy, I am sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t exactly how you were hoping your first full game back would go. You know, it’s still crazy to me that y'all actually give the credit of own goals to the player from the opposing team that did it? In hockey, we just give it to the teammate who’s the closest to the goal. Which now that I think of it, probably doesn’t make any sense either, but at least it feels more whimsical. A goal by association, you know, like just the power of somebody else’s presence being nearby was enough to turn the tide and make a difference.

“Look, I know you probably already heard all this tonight – that everyone has a bad day and one match isn’t the end of the world, even if it does feel like it at the time. But you know what, it doesn’t mean you aren’t talented. Sometimes a bad day is just a bad day; nothing for it but to sleep it off and try again next time. So chin up, alright? It’s not easy, trying to find your feet in a place where everyone else already knows what's going on, but anyone who knows you at all should know by now what you’re capable of. This was just a hiccup, nothing worth beating yourself up over. I believe in you, and I know you’ll get ‘em next time.

“Oh, and uh- sorry for the long, rambly voicemail. I know you don’t like those. I just…. I really want you to know that I hope you’re doing alright. And you can call me, too, if you ever need anything, anything at all. I’m just a phone call away.

“You have a good night now.”

Ted hangs up with a long sigh. Not his best work. Nothing he hasn’t said before, really, but he can admit to himself that his heart’s a little sore and that was probably more for himself than for Jamie.

Tomorrow, he promises, tomorrow when he's more clearheaded but no less tenderhearted, he’ll try again. Send Jamie all the usual encouragement and let the kid swat back at him.

Ted doesn’t know that approximately four hours north that Jamie’s listening to his message on repeat. That he’s biting his lower lip so hard that it’s reopened the split. That he’s trying to choke down a sob and losing. That if he presses his face any harder into the cushions, he’ll disappear.

No one told Jamie any of that. Ted’s the only one.

It was easier to brush off Ted when he couldn’t hear the sincerity in his voice. But he listens to the voicemail over and over again, until it’s burned into his brain, until it feels like a living thing in his chest scrambling to get out.

That’s when a niggling feeling of doubt starts to creep in and he starts to scroll back through their text history.

He rereads all the messages Ted has sent him the past few weeks. Caught between Jamie’s own barbwire responses are the “Good job, Jamie!”s and the, “Well done, champ!”s and the, “Well, I don’t know if that sort of feedback is necessarily gonna motivate Roy, but I´ll let him know you were thinking about him. We all really miss you, bud.”

Jamie starts to wonder what they would sound like if they were true. If they were sincere. If Ted really did mean them.

For some reason it’s that thought that finally makes the dam break.

The next two weeks pass in a blur. Ted’s not sure what changed, but after his voicemail something’s different. Usually Jamie thrills in letting Ted have the full force of his opinion, but lately the kid’s so clammed up it’s like digging for pearls. 

(From the way Beard gives him a so-so gesture when he shares his metaphor, Ted figures they’re still in not-agreement on the Jamie situation)

It’s disconcerting, this level of restraint. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the kid had gone shy. Not too shy, though. He’s still more than willing to tell Ted exactly where Richmond’s strategy is going wrong, although with less colorful language. No, it's mostly his responses to Ted that have taken a muted turn. The last few congratulations Ted has sent, they haven’t gotten back more than a thumbs up in response – which is the opposite of Roy’s usual thumbs down approach. Now Ted has two players that are stubbornly sticking to pictographic communication methods.

(He may not be Jamie’s coach anymore, but in every way that matters Jamie is still his player in his heart)

Ted’s still turning around the puzzle that is Jamie Tartt when the universe decides to throw him a curveball in the form of a phone call from the Mancunian devil himself.

Ted’s halfway through a greeting when Jamie cuts him off with a panicked, “You said I could call you if I ever needed something. Did you mean it?”

There’s a sense of urgency in his voice that makes the hair on the back of Ted’s neck stand up. 

“I meant it from the bottom of my heart. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

In the long pause that follows, ambient noise filters in, a severe and orderly racket that starts filling in some blanks.

Jamie inhales sharply. He sounds wrecked. “I’m in hospital. I’ve, uh. I’ve got a concussion, and they won’t let me leave without…”

He trails off. A small sniff brushes down the line, but it could just as easily be a shirtsleeve sliding across the speaker.

Ted is four hours away down in Richmond. He was on his way to practice. Later this evening, he has one of those press conferences that’s a little too shaped like a firing squad for his comfort. At lunch, he has a meeting scheduled with the scouting department. He’s spent the better part of a week trying to figure out a way to say, “I get what you’re all suggestion, but what I really want is sitting up in Manchester, warming the bench on somebody else’s roster.”

He doesn’t know when he decided he’d fight to get Jamie back, but it wouldn’t change his answer even if he did.

“I‘ll be right there.”

[richeeduvie]

how would princesa celebrate Father’s Day with Lalo??

In a way that's going to make him have her celebrate father's day with more kids.

"What's the cake for?"

"It's father's day."

She's trying to draw hearts with icing. She drew Lalo. And his mustache. Bebito is a very stereotypical cartoon of a baby, singular hair curl and all.

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot."

Princesa almost asks if Ignacio didn't call his dad. But she knows better, so she just writes Lalo's name in red.

Bebito babbles in their high chair, munching on a cereal loop in their chubby fist.

"It's just the cake, really. And a card. And dinner. I didn't know what else to do."

"That sounds like enough...and you did the whole giving him a child thing, so I think that's enough too."

Princesa smiles. "If you think of it that way, but it's just he's such a good papa." She turns to the dining room. "You have such a good papa, hm? And you are such a good baby."

Bebito coos, smiling when their brought into their mama's arms. Princesa bounces them, Nacho watches from across the kitchen.

"I was thinking maybe I should get him a present. I meant to ask you if we can go somewhere earlier."

"If you want."

Even though everything else is enough. Princesa smiles and soon enough, all three of them are in his car. Nacho's car has a car seat for Bebito. They're off to men's store and lunch.

Bebito lies on those waiting chairs they have in fancy clothing stores, which they're in. Princesa holds a colorful, patterned button up to Ignacio's chest. He looks at her hands.

"I think he'd like this."

"...Yeah."

"Would Papa like this, baby?"

The baby stares up at the ceiling, waving their arms.

"What a cute family. Happy father's day."

They look up to find a lady smiling at them. This happens more often than whatever sits in Nacho can handle.

"Thank you."

And Princesa never denies it. Nacho takes the shirt from her when she picks up Bebito.

"He'll like the new shirts, hopefully. And the cigars."

"It's not a question on if he'll like them. He'll like them."

Bebito makes a small, gurgled noise.

"They agree."

They go home, but Nacho's breath slows when he sees that Lalo's gotten home earlier.

"I hope he didn't see the cake. It was meant to be a surprise."

Her voice is coated with a soft worry. She takes her baby out of the car seat, a quick-skip dash as Nacho tries to hold onto his lungs. He shuts the car's backdoor after he's taken cigars next to Bebito's seat.

"Lalo?"

She's caught him in the doorway, back turned to her. Princesa tilts her head. Bebito plays with her sleeve.

"You expecting me to be home this early?"

"...No, but did you see it?"

Lalo sighs, wipes his mouth. "See what, Princesa? You said there was nowhere to go today-"

"Oh, good!"

Princesa puts Bebito down in the living room. On the floor, which confuses Lalo always, but when his girl explained to him that it was so they don't have to worry about them falling off the bed or couch, he thinks it's just funny. It's just Bebito flat on the back, wiggling in the middle of the room.

She can't help but smile when pulling out the cake. It's giddy, giggly.

"Happy father's day. Papa's day."

Lalo doesn't blink, his eyes come down to the sight of a chocolate, decorated cake. He breathes evenly.

"We just needed to get some presents for you." She sniffles, she's hoping so badly that things are good. "...Do you like it?"

And suddenly, Lalo's smiling so brightly - so wide with his lips and teeth.

"Oh, Lalo - the cake!"

He almost smashed it between them, Lalo puts in on the counter.

"What a good Mama I have, huh? You love Papa so much, you're so sweet, sweet girl. Mwah!"

Lalo swings her around before running off to the living room, picking up a squealing Bebito.

"What do you have to say to Papa, Bebito?"

"...Brr."

"You are welcome. I am such a good father, you're right. No wonder why your mama made a cake for me."

He puts them back to the floor before picking Princesa up, throwing her around in his arms. Lalo kisses her all over. It's a warm father's day.

"Can't having me think you left me alone on father's day, Princesa."

"Can I smoke one of your cigars?"

Lalo stops in his steps to take her up to their room.

"Huh?"

"I got you a father's day present. Just-Ignacio."

Ignacio's at the bottom of the stairwell.

"We got something for you."

Lalo's staring at Ignacio, only thrown off with red in his muscles when Princesa pecks at his neck and cheek.

"Watch the kid for me, Nacho."

And they're up the stairwell, Princesa's feet never touching the ground. Nacho picks Bebito up from the floor, staring at the cigar box on the table.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Hello!! I hope you are having a good time. Could you please write some comfort with fred weasley x reader having mental breakdown because she lost something important to her (I've recently lost my mp3 player which was with me for 7 years and was a support during depressive episodes; I will never find it, because I lost it outside and when I realized, it was too late? If it's too much, Could you please write just comfort about reader having a bad day? Thank you for paying attention for my request 🌟

Hi hi! I’m sorry about your mp3 player sweetie. Hopefully you like this, and it can cheer you up 😊 I did something a little different because I started fixating on the fact that ‘couldn’t wizards just summon a lost item with accio?’ lmao enjoy!

summary: Fred tries to cheer up y/n when he finds her upset in common room

warnings: none :)

—————————————————————————

It was your last class of the day and you were bored out of your mind already. History of Magic was always boring, so today you planned ahead. You head been working tirelessly on a portrait of your mother for her birthday, so you brought your drawing quill to class. As Professor Bins floated in the front of the room, you sat promptly in the back, inking the final touches of your masterpiece. It was almost the end of the class when you finished and asked to go to the bathroom. You left the sketchbook open and headed down the hallway. You were finally feeling happier as spring came around, and your mom was finally getting better. She’d been sick all winter with her illness and wasn’t doing well. You smiled as did your business and strolled back to class. When you got back, you saw Avery and Cassius snicker in your direction. As you approached your desk, you saw that your portrait had been vandalized with scratches and curse words, and a mustache drawn on your mother’s lips. Hot tears threatened to pour from your eyes as the class was dismissed, and you hurried back to the dorms. This wasn’t the first time you’d been victim to the Slytherins bullying. As you ran up to the seventh floor, you tried to hide your face as you entered the portrait hole. By now, you were hyperventilating, the ruined sketch crumpled in your hand. You had worked so hard, and now it was ruined forever. You just wanted to make your mom happy.

“Y/N?” Fred sat up on the couch when he saw your state. His eyes flashed with worry which only made you feel worse because your pain shouldn’t be passed on to Fred. He was always so sweet to you and you didn’t want to burden him with something as stupid as a painting. He began to stand, leaving behind his project on the couch.

“Are you okay, Y/N? What happened?”

Your response came out as a choked sob as Fred crossed the room to meet you. He instantly embraced you, something he had done many times before. He never minded being your shoulder to cry on, and you never minded the affection. He shushed you as he swayed you back and forth. After a moment, you sniffled and rubbed your eyes, Fred ducking down and wiping a tear off your chin. You uncrumpled the sketch and passed it to him.

“I was making this for my mom. Slytherins got to it,” you frowned, looking once again at the ruined drawing. Fred smoothed it out.

“Who did this.”

You looked up and locked eyes with Fred. There was not a hint of a smile on his face.

“Freddie…” you said, cautiously. You didn’t want anymore trouble. The drawing was already ruined.

“Who did this,” he asked again, stepping towards you and motioning to the portrait. You swallowed. His height seemed to grow as he got closer to you.

“I- uhm,” you stuttered. You didn’t want to tell him, you knew he was going to confront them. Or at least get back at them.

“Y/N, I’m not going to cause any trouble,” he started sweetly, giving you a small smile, “but they ruined your portrait. Please, just tell me who did this.” He breathed out and pleaded with his eyes. You could never say no to him.

“Avery and Cassius,” you sighed. He pulled you into another hug.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I know how much this would’ve meant to your mom,” he said softly into your hair, “but she’s going to love anything you send her, darling.” He kissed the top of your head before pulling back and giving your shoulders a squeeze. You couldn’t help but smile a bit as he bid you off to your dorm for some rest. Your cheeks blushed as you thought about his smile and his hugs. He definitely knew how to cheer you up, and he would never let you go up to your dorm crying alone.

So you shouldn’t have been surprised when you went down to dinner to find Avery and Cassius with permanent inked mustaches and crosses over their eyes, but it felt just as satisfying.

[chaosduckies]

Rising Tides (Chapter 2)

A lot of you guys liked the first one, so I quickly wrote this one just to clear up the cliffhanger on the first part hah~ (Sorry not sorry) But, hope you guys enjoy because I really like these characters and plan on actually doing more drawings of them!

Word Count: 4.3k

CW: Mentions of death, Description of Death (Doesn’t actually happen), I think that’s it but if not you guys tell me!

2- Nico 

I didn’t know where I was going. The last thing I remember seeing were a pair of blue eyes and then nothing. Now, I was being taken somewhere in the fist of this giant freaking mer that’s taken me as a snack. How do I know? Oh well, what else feels soft and sort of squishy when you were just in a cave? A hand. So no here I was, in the midst of a panic attack while also trembling so much I was so sure that this mer kidnapping me could feel it. I mean, it wouldn’t be surprising. 

The water around me was moving, which was the only indication that I wasn’t going to die just yet. Were they saving me for later? There has to be some way out of this. I couldn’t stop the panicking thoughts in my mind. I didn’t want to die. At least not yet. I didn’t even know how long we’ve been moving. Hours? Days? Something like that. 

My tail fin was still torn, but I’d bet if I really tried I could swim. Just not as fast. Would it be enough to escape this mer? Probably not but it was worth a shot. I didn’t really get a good look at how bad the tears were in the dark cave, but I’m sure it’ll heal on it’s own in just a couple days. Hopefully. That’s if I can get out of here. 

I felt us stop moving, making me press my back into the flesh behind me and try to make myself seem smaller. Where were we? I couldn’t see anything but the purple scales that came from my own tail. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while-“ The voice stopped abruptly, “Want to explain?” 

“A shark was chasing a mer, I couldn’t be there in time before the shark got ahold of the little guy, and here we are now.” It sounded like a tired voice. It was louder too. I held my breath when the hand opened up, leaving me entirely out in the open. My eyes darted all over the place. There was a tiny little reef in an underwater ravine looking thing, along with some things that looked like another mer was living there. Just some feet in front of me was a mer just a little taller than a human, with a dark green tail, eyes, and dirty blonde hair that somewhat covered his eyes. Who was this? 

My eyes looked around, trying to find the face that connected to the mer that was still holding me (Oh my gosh please let me go I don’t feel so good right now-) But I’ve never seen a mer as big as he was. And that just made me all the more terrified. I was maybe the size of his fingernail, if I was lucky. 

Dark blue eyes were trained on me, instantly making me bite back the scream I wanted oh so badly to let out. I stuffed my tail closer to my side, tryin got hide that I was hurt, but I’m sure he already knows. But does he know how badly? Maybe I can somehow trick him? It was a long shot, but I’m pretty sure I could. 

The mer holding me looked away and turned towards the other mer that was studying me. I couldn’t help but catch the white tuff of hair in his brown hair. That was weird. Not the thing I should be worried about though. The green-tailed mer swam up to me, catching sight of my torn tail fin and sighed, shaking his head. 

“You’re not going to be able to swim for a long while, little mer.” He gestured for him to see more and I couldn’t help but listen. Why was this one helping? Did he have the big mer under control? Was he somehow controlling him into not hurting either of us? What was going on! Seriously! 

I stared down at my torn fin, seeing really just how much damage there was. Nearly all the thin pieces of skin were torn off, and the webbing was almost all torn up. Only a few small pieces remained intact. That explains why it hurts to barely even move it. But I won’t be able to swim for a while? How was I going to get back home? I doubt that either of these mers would help me out. It looks to me like the green-tailed one was just going to help me out a little, but he wasn’t going to entirely. I was still frail that the big mer would try to eat me. 

“Yup. This will take a while to heal. What were you doing all the way out here anyways?” The stranger asked. What do I even say? I don't’ even know why I was there. Because I saw something mysterious in the distance? Do I say that I was just exploring? Both were true. What do I say? 

My mouth quivered before whispering a quiet answer, “I-I just s-saw a sh-ship…” I couldn’t finish the rest of my sentence when  the big mer had his full attention on me like he could hear me. I doubt he would be able to. I was such a coward. No wonder everyone in the town wanted me gone. They would be all dead if I stayed and a mer his size came around. Though, I’m pretty sure this mer was huge even by other instances. 

“Hmm. Well, I can’t really help you heal up a wound like this. It’s just going to take some time. I would say for you to go home, but I’m sure that’s pretty far from here, right?” The green-tailed mer smirked, crossing his arms. I couldn’t move, but he already guessed the answer. I didn’t even know where I was. For all I know I could be an entire days travel back to home instead of the one hour swim it had taken for me to get to that reef. Not to mention I’m sure this big mer was going to end up eating me as a not-so filling snack. I shuddered at the thought. 

“Sorry, kid. You can’t stay here either.” Why couldn’t I just stay with him until I was healed and ready to head back home? I would prefer that over staying with the big mer that hasn’t said a word since he let me out. It kind of creeped me out. Plus it looked to me like he didn’t even want to here here right now. Yeah? Well neither do I. Actually, I wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t taken me. 

“So… what do I do with him?” The big mer asked, looking kind of annoyed now. I was still trembling, but now would be a good time to escape. Now that the green-tailed mer was up close to the big mers face. Otherwise no one’s attention was on me. 

I forced myself up, noting that the skin below me didn’t seem to notice. I took my chance, pushing myself up and trying to swim off, but nothing. Only a burning pain every time I moved my tail, and I was back on the fleshy surface below, not even able to slightly move at all. I groaned to myself, realizing that even if I did manage to swim off, even if I stopped for a second I would slowly start flowing down to the sandy ocean floor. Great. Just great. 

The two were arguing behind me while I stared out into the deep blue ahead of me. There was nothing out there except for a few large rocks and large pieces of seaweed that covered most of the floor. I wasn’t going home. Not anytime soon at least. I was going to die. These people weren’t going to help me, and when I do end up getting better, I would just be eaten, right? The big mer probably thought that if I was hurt I wouldn’t taste as good. I trembled slightly, looking back at my torn up tail. If I hadn’t came all the way out here maybe today could have ended differently? Then again, they were right about my tail being the death of me. They all were. Wow. I really am unlucky. 

“Fine, he’ll stay with me until he gets better, but after that, he’s gone.” The bigger mer growled at the much smaller one, then I was wrapped in a tight fist once again. I’m dead. I’m so so so dead. 

———Callum——— 

Did I care that a small mer was literally going to die if I didn’t help them? Yes, of course I did. Did I expect to have to take care of them until they healed up? No, no I did not. Who knows how long that would be! I couldn’t see the damn wound myself, but from watching the little mer try to escape earlier it looked like he couldn’t even swim a foot away without his tail stinging him. Of course I felt bad, but why did I have to take care of them? They got themselves into this mess in the first place. 

I groaned, swimming back to the cave I’ve called home for a good while. It was surprise to wake up to someone screaming. I had thought it was just my imagination, but when I saw the shark- I thought something was up. Why was the mer even there anyways? Did he even stop to think that something else could be living in there? Or even if there wasn’t what if he was just cornered by the shark that looked about three times his size. Then he’d really be dead. He’s lucky I’m not some sick psycho who’ll eat him. 

To be honest, I really did feel bad for the little guy. I mean, if I were that small and something like that happened to me, I would be terrified. I can literally feel the slightest little tremble in my hand coming from him right now. I’m not a heartless monster like most mers my size. It’s just… I don’t really want to be around someone so afraid of me. Which was why I wanted Archer to take care of him and not me, but of course he can’t. 

After swimming back home for about an hour, I looked for a place the tiny mer could stay at comfortably. I decided on a small little platform with a little seaweed growing. There was some sand too and a few coral bits. I’m pretty sure there were some small little caves he could fit himself into as well. Not too bad honestly. 

I opened my hand, revealing a shaking little mer. I bit the inside of my cheek, tilting my hand slightly to let him down on the rocky platform that seemed all too big for him. I wonder what I looked like to him… Probably huge, intimidating. Exactly what I was expecting. Oh this is going to be a long couple of weeks. I would take him home, but I’m sure that would only bring him more problems if I just came to wherever small little community he was a part of and just left him there. Especially when I’m about 80 percent sure that tail of his doesn’t make it easy to talk to many people already. 

“If you need anything, yell. Don’t try swimming off, you’ll only make my job a million times harder. Otherwise, you’re stuck with me until you can swim on your own again.” I crossed my arms, looking for a reaction, but only seeing shock on the littler mers face. Should I get to know his name? No. There was no point when I’d only remember it as just another person who was afraid of me. 

I swam off, leaving the mer by himself. I doubt he’d try to swim off. If he did he’d just sink right to the bottom of the floor anyways. Plus, it wouldn’t be hard to track him. It’s not like I’m trying to keep him captive here, it’s just I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know who this mer is. I don’t plan on finding out either since this will all just be over soon anyways, right? 

I wrapped in on myself, going back to sleep since I was abruptly woken up. I can just go get food later… and eat away from the little mer. 

——————

A couple hours later I woke up, the water felt just the slightest bit warmer, which meant it was a little after midday. I should probably check up on the little mer. I wasn’t all too worried about him escaping, much less him getting himself into another situation, but still. Checking wouldn’t hurt. 

I swam, rubbing my eyes and yawning when I get to the spot I left him at, not seeing any sign of him there. I searched for a while, gently moving away some of the small stalks of seaweed and still not seeing the little mer. Wow. Did he actually try to swim off? I chuckled a little, but I was still the slightest bit worried. I brought my face closer, spying something purple hidden under a tiny rock. How the heck does he even fit under there? Oh well. I wasn’t about to rip off the rock he’s somehow found a little home under. If it makes him feel safe, then I won’t bother. But I still have to ask him something.

“Are you… hungry? Just come out of your little hiding spot if you are.” I watched for any kind of movement, but nothing. When was the last time he ate even? I guess I’ll leave him be for now. If he doesn’t eat anything tomorrow then I’ll just get him something. I’d hate for him to starve to death just because I didn’t get him anything. I feel like that would be the worst way to die in my personal opinion. 

“Alright. Don’t leave.” I ordered, swimming off to go get myself some food from my usual grounds. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten myself really. I kind of wished that he came out though. Just so I could get a better look at him. The only thing I’ve really noticed was his tail and just how small he was and that was pretty much it. Though, that was kind of my fault for just leaving the second I was able to. 

When I came back, no longer hungry, I saw something small sitting down in the open sand area of the little area. Oh. He was out? I was gone for a good while though. I swam silently, not trying to scare him. What was he doing? It kind of looked like he was just messing with something in his hands. A shell? 

He turned his head slightly, letting out a yelp of surprise when he saw me and rushed to go back into his hiding spot. My heart fell, but I knew this was going to happen. It’ll be over in about two weeks. Then he’ll swim off and forget about you, maybe tell this story to his future kids or something. I didn’t know what other mers did when this happens to them. Though, I doubt this specific thing happens. 

I didn’t say anything at all when I swam back in. I didn’t plan on talking a whole bunch. I’m pretty sure the little mer didn’t either. I’m only here to make sure he has everything he needs to survive, that nothing won’t try to eat him either.  

———Nico———

This was the same cave I was in not so long ago. Just a different part. It seemed more like an open cage where I was at right now. A platform that held a few tiny fish that somehow survived here, some snails, there were some small anemones, rocks, a seaweed patch. I also found some small caves I could fit into hidden behind some of the seaweed, but I didn’t really want to stay there. It really felt like a prison if I were being honest. Like he’s had other mers there before. The worst part was that he already knows about all the hiding spots, so if he were mad at me he knows exactly where to look for me. That’s always great to know. So, there was no possible way for me to get out. It would take me too long just to swim out of the cave, and even if I did, he could just track me down. 

I’ve already accepted my fate. I was going die here. Whether I liked it or not. My best bet was to just avoid him as much as possible, which I think I’ve done pretty well so far for it only being a couple hours. What can I say? I was terrified of dying, and that guy is pure death to me. I feel like he’ll just rip me up into pieces at any point, and that’s what really gets me. 

So here I was, hiding underneath a rock where he could very easily take it off. I’m surprised he hasn’t already. I’ve found that the place I was in wasn’t all that bad. It was comfortable, easy for me to move around. Not too bad, but I would really like to go home. I miss it already. I just want to go back to my little home inside the coral and sleep peacefully on the soft sand. What would my parents do when they realize anyways? No one would want to look for me. It was sad actually. What was I even supposed to here? Just wait to be eaten? I’m pretty sure that’s what was going to happen anyways. 

I recently found out that the big mers tail was a pretty dark blue color, which explains why he was so big in the first place. Most mers with a blue tail grow to be pretty big, but I’ve never seen one his height before. I think I’ve only really seen one where I was a little bigger than their fist, but this is an entire different thing. I mean, who wouldn’t be when someone fifty times your size was supposed to “take care of you?” How was that even possible? 

I crawled out of my little hiding spot, picking up the colored rock I had found earlier and continued to fidget with it. Everything would be fine… right? He’d let me go eventually. I wound’t be eaten, and then I can forget all of this ever happened. Oh who am I kidding? I was unlucky, nothing would ever work out for me. It always takes a turn for the worst. I sighed, too tired to even bother with going back into my hiding spot, and made myself comfortable in the sand. I just have to hope it’ll all work out in the end. 

—————— 

When I woke up, the giant mer was laying on his stomach, head resting on his arms as he stared out into the deep ocean. I tried not making a single sound as I pushed myself up, glancing over at my tail and seeing that it was still torn up. So it really wasn’t a dream. Or nightmare I should say. 

I held a hand over my mouth as I made my way to underneath that rock, but something caught his attention to make him look over where I was. He glared at me, watching me go still and hold my breath. He rolled his eyes before swimming closer to me, the fast and effortless movement making me dizzy as his face took up most of my vision. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t- 

“Are you hungry yet?” I shook my head, not wanting to make him do extra work just to keep me alive. There’s also the fact that he might just want to to eat more so I taste better. Well, no thank you. I’d rather die of hunger than die while inside his mouth. The thought made me slightly gag, earning a confused look from the mer. 

He let out a sigh before swimming off, fast water hitting me in the face from his careless movement. Yeah… I did not feel good. Neither did that fact that I didn’t even know his name yet. I feel like I should know the name of my future killer. Wait- don’t think like that. 

The mer came back with something in his hands, dropping a few small fish in a pile in front of me. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. I can’t tell him that I don’t eat fish. Then that’d start a new problem, which I can’t really afford considering the situation I was in. Then, he did something I completely unexpected. He propped his head up with his hand, elbow on the platform he had me on, and watched me with an annoyed look on his face, “I’m staying here until you eat. And I know you’d probably prefer me as far away from you as possible, little mer.” He smirked. 

He wasn’t wrong. 

What do I do? I was hungry, and I suddenly regret not eating that plate my mom made me the day before. I don’t even remember the last time I ate. Great. I don’t want to eat fish I though! But I have to unless I’m really about to just stay this close to someone who could swallow me whole without even trying- STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT! 

I pushed myself towards the little place under the rock where I currently call home, only to be stopped by a fleshy surface in front of me. I backed away so fast I’m surprised I didn’t trip over my hands. I heard a quiet chuckle above me, like he was having a good time. 

“Just eat. It’s not poisoned or anything.” I couldn’t help but catch the slight tone change. Like he actually sort of cared about me? I don’t know how to describe it, but it didn’t stop my heart from beating rapidly and my body start malfunctioning (Like literally I couldn’t move even if I wanted to it was too busy trembling so much) 

I scooted closer to the fish, a shaky hand holding one that was about the size of my entire arm. If it’s the only way to get him to leave me alone… I took a small bite, hating how the fish didn’t even taste bad, it’s just I don’t like seeing dead fish. I dropped the fish back into the pile, forcing myself the crane my neck up at the mer, who, for a split second, had a sympathetic look on his face before he just fixed his position. I did what he asked me to… could he please just leave me alone? 

Instead, he waited. I don’t know how much time had passed, but this guy is extremely patient. Doesn’t he have better things to do? Like… well I have no idea what he does but it’s obviously not waiting on some insignificant mer to eat something. I didn’t eat another bite, and I guess that’s when it clicked in his head. 

“You… don’t eat fish, do you.” He sighed, closing his eyes. At least I didn’t have to tell him. I didn’t do anything but hide my torn-up tail and fidget with my hands while staring at the sand. 

“What do you eat then?” I couldn’t answer his question. And I guess he realized that too because he just started listing off things he could find until I finally nodded my head. I was scared if I didn’t at least answer him like that he’d do something to me. So then he left, ordered me not to leave (Which I couldn’t do anyways but I still listened because I was scared of what he’d do if did end up leaving) I quickly glided over to my little makeshift home under the rock and stayed there, shaking. What would I have done if he didn’t realize that? What would happen if he wasn’t willing to wait? Would he just have eaten me there and then? I curled in on myself, mindful of the many loose pieces of thin fin on my tail. 

He came back a couple minutes later, dropping some kelp and taking his same position again, making sure I actually ate. It was uncomfortable, but I knew if I didn’t he’d just force me to one way or another. Threaten me. Yeah, I’m okay. No thank you. Instead, I ate what I could in case I wouldn’t get a chance like this again and watched as he just grabbed the rest and placed it somewhere. I hate everything about this. 

———Callum———

I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t eat fish. He’s practically on himself if he were just a tiny bit smaller… It’s sad to think about really. It wasn’t even that hard to gather any of the kelp, so I don’t know why he forced himself the first time. He could have at least told me. I didn’t mind going out. Then again, I didn’t exactly make that clear to him either. 

I left him alone like I had promised, watching him hide in the seaweed, but it was easy to spot him in the green with that bright purple tail of his. I found it to be nice really. It wasn’t really a hazard to me like other mers probably find it to be, but it’s really a nice color. I don’t think he thinks that though. 

Meanwhile, I tried to figure out just what I could do in the meantime. Usually I just go out and explore, but I don’t think I can just leave the little mer all alone for so long. Something might actually come, then I’d have to deal with that guilt. I don’t think taking him with me is an option, because I’m pretty sure he’s terrified of me and the last thing he would want to do is be around me. I sighed, looking back out in the ocean, feeling my eyes become heavy. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe I should actually learn his name. 

————————

Wowwww. Y’know, rereading this chapter, I don’t think I like it, but oh well. Yes, I know Callum is just sarcastic and hard to get used to, but he’ll warm up to Nico. And yes, he’s just taking care of Nico because he feels bad for not being able to help out in time.

Hope you guys liked it (I kind of didn’t) and I hope I can get you some drawings of these two soon! (I love them sm aghhhh) Thanks for reading!

[mysteryanimator]

Animatic Breakdown/storyboard rambles

You can watch it here :D

I know it is super silly but I really like geeking out about media analysis and it's a good wind-down for me since this did somewhat take some creative juice. Also, it acts to look over and kinda reflect over on how to improve stuff!

The breakdown will be slightly of order so I can be more concise with drawing toward specific parallels because there's a bit!

Right off the bat, I had initially planned about 20 seconds for this animatic. It did jump to 2 minutes due to an additional story I thought would strengthen it- but this meant what I wanted to show all had to count. So with that in mind:

This framing was really important for me to hammer into your face. To point out, every time this framing occurs, Mizrak is boxed and trapped in by some external force- until that last frame with his boots, to which his body has control of the frame. I might've gone overboard though I'm not entirely sure HAHAHA.

Even the cameos I wanted to make sure had some intentionality because these people were nice enough to give in ref pics and were interested in it!

You might be wondering "what on earth wdym intentionality with cameos?" Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, aka frequency bias/frequency illusion was something I really really wanted to play around with super briefly. Which funnily enough, the people who happened to ask, were able to fall into the concept I wanted to play with.

Mizrak's hair is curly. Mizrak's hair is also cropped- by this point I had to bring in an oc to vaguely resemble Olrox to continue that subliminal messaging that Mizrak is genuinely plagued by the thoughts of him and Olrox. While verbally or even mentally, he never acknowledges it- his thoughts are omnipresent. No one is a replica of Mizrak and Olrox, they just make your head turn, and make you think.

Which also, you could argue then that MONK BLUE falls into the frequency illusion because he does end up accidentally adopting the features of Olrox when simplified. I noticed that from the very start and I almost took him out because of the similarities before deciding to just keep him LOL. I still think it's really funny this ONE BACKGROUND CHARACTER has screen time just because he stood next to him and I decided he was going to be the one most suspicious of Mizrak.

(Briefly, I'll mention, MONK RED, is an old OC, he is the head guard in some fantasy world I made up and that's the only reason he's here HAHAH)

This is where I introduce the held shot, and it happens in other shots so bear with me here and it'll make sense, hopefully! So these shots hold for an awkwardly long time. While music does mask how long it is, Mizrak is just standing there. Thinking. Even when he's the main focus he's still. We know he's thinking but he's choosing not to verbalise a single thought- and when he does, we know there's so much more to it than what he says.

This shot was very intentional because this is the last time you will see Mizrak's face unobscured for this animatic. This is one of the reasons why this animatic jumped from 20 seconds to 2 minutes. I wanted the lack of his face (especially his eyes) to leave an impact.

Also, its a hint to "we as an audience will be blocked from seeing Mizrak's personal thoughts, and if we ever do get a glimpse we will be forcibly be shut out as soon as possible"

SO, eyes are an important thing I decided to run with here! Close-ups of Mizrak's eyes are only shown twice. Once near the beginning and secondly near the end. Even then it's a side profile under different lighting condition and different expressions.

Which you might be asking "why is the only frame of Olrox below Mizrak???" In a close up of Mizrak's face, the most detailed thing in it is his eyes, therefore naturally we draw our focus towards it. He's already looking down, which means our eyes will follow to where Mizrak is looking at. This meant putting Olrox where our eyes would naturally land. Olrox looking back up would allow for the eye to go back to the original spot so when I abruptly cut to Mizrak's mouth, it's not too much of a headache.

... I hope that made sense, if not, here's it in gif format!

Like that :D

Also since it is just an extreme close-up, it allows for an open interpretation of this glimpse of Olrox. What is happening here ??? I don't know you tell me :)))) Why is Olrox looking up like that :))))) Sometimes if you leave it to the imagination, the audience is just forced to wonder what happened. I'm not letting you into their most vulnerable deepest moment lol, that's all I'm giving you. Though also I wanted the audience to feel like they were shunted out because it gives the sense of "WE WERE GOING TO GET MORE BUT THESE MONKS DECIDED WALK IN"

SO Mizrak's mouth is important because he barely says a thing.

Also I like to find different ways to portray interactions, specifically reactions to dialogue- so for here I wanted Mizrak's restraint to be a huge focus. Silence and stillness in video and audio formats are very powerful in storytelling. Also also if I were to animate this, I won't though, I am absolutely finding a way to avoid animating little sections so more important sections get prioritized, say if I were to animate a action fight scene LOL. Therefore I personally lean heavily into composition and framing to do my storytelling rather than the choreography of moves. (However that is not to say framing and choreography cannot be mixed, they are an ungodly combo when mixed, I'm not very strong in mixing those yet)

This top down shottttt. I do this a lot in my boards LMAO, it personally conveys a lot for me and it feels like we're an audience perched up in a corner just watching something unfold. Like unseen observers. It also in turn just ends up making the characters in a weaker vulnerable situation. Especially here. I wanted Mizrak to feel absolutely corned, backed into a wall. Not only by characters but by the building too.

Though I'm like 100% sure there are different ways I can iterate on this top-down view I need to find a new dynamic angle to latch onto HAHAHA.

Which to note MONK RED always has his arms crossed, he's not prepared to attack, while MONK BLUE is always resting his hand on the sword from the get-go. Hopefully, this establishes what their dynamic is towards Mizrak from the start without knowing who they are beforehand.

Also yes the shadows are fangs and very subtly a tongue that was super intentional to make fun of the line MONK RED says. It made me lean heavily more into having shadows matter more. So yes, characters are backlit very intentionally. Faces being half shrouded in shadow? Also very intentional.

Yes, it was intentional that a shot of Mizrak's mouth goes to a shot where the shadow makes a mouth shape.

I knew I had to have this shot here, just to make Mizrak's silence so much more obvious to the point it's borderline violent. I think this framing is really cool and it does have the sword show up to continue giving the sense of being prepared to stab someone in the back. Also, this is a slightly high angle. If there was a camera here, it would be slightly tilted up, making the threat more imposing.

So this is the second reason to why my original storyboard jumped from 20 seconds to 2 minutes- I wanted to subvert the original the border frame I was going for because by this point I think subconsciously you can feel it already. I wanted Mizrak's answer to be really odd and let that weight carry on far longer than it should to make the audience go "...huh what was that answer???" and start questioning Mizrak too (hopefully). I wanted him to go around the question, both in a verbal manner and physically having him walk around the characters instead of through them.

The rest of the boards that follow after have all the characters off to the side because something is off. Therefore I wanted the balance of the scenes that follow to be off-center. Even if visually they are balanced for a second, it doesn't last long at all. I wanted people to hopefully feel the shift from the pre-inquiry about why Mizrak was late and post-inquiry.

I think I could've been a lot stronger with the 'off' sense, but also I didn't want to push it too far because I didn't want alarm bells- I just wanted to plant seeds of doubt to fester.

Originally this board was going to be super comedic- but I went with a different route, but it still kinda smuggled itself into a few places!

I wanted the swords to be fully shown, it was really important to me it was in the shot. Yes, that includes Mizrak's dagger. I wanted to just hang over the sense of danger, the ability to just start attacking each other once again, but instead, they're stalking each other like prey.

SIDE TANGENT- all the monks have their swords on the left while Mizrak has his kilij (specific sword he has) on the right. He stands out massively design-wise from all the other monks so I wanted to hopefully have that be really prominent here too, since right now, he's the odd one out in this interaction.

So here, the camera is dragging off the characters, which I hoped to allude that MONK BLUE is not listening at all despite looking at him. We as the audience are the camera, so by forcibly dragging the camera off MONK RED, I am trying to drag the attention off him so we get into the mindset of MONK BLUE.

Also this line, I wanted to jab at Mizrak and I wanted from the get-go to make everyone uneasy. Also also just from ten billion watches of Nocturne, I noticed that Mizrak has a lot of 'guard dog' allusions, so I wanted to throw that here. Especially since the rest of the panels have just been of Mizrak's jaw.

I wanted to experiment with something slightly comedic and I also wanted the feeling of being unwilling dragged back into a conversation we shouldn't be having. I played around with it being a shoe shot, a sword shot because I wasn't to particularly fond of doing ANOTHER face shot- but I wanted to save those other shots for later, also I think it kind of played into it having cut to MONK RED and just having MONK BLUE not following at ALL.

Despite being chewed out by his fellow monk, he still holds a massive presence on the screen in a literal sense, unwavering. Mizrak is just STANDING there until he inveitentivately cracks and says something. He's holding himself back, which I was trying to hark on his behaviors from episode 04 with Olrox.

Ok yipee this frame- so every single time this pole pillar frame thing occurs- its always outside of Mizrak's control. He is now in control of it, to a point where even the camera follows his walk. Also audio-wise it connects back to the beginning with the bell :D because this frame motif was there from the very start.

Also not at me finding myself drawing shoes so much more often now, free me HAHAHA

Oh my god, it's the sword again. Except this time I make it really obvious to pair it with the dialogue. Like I wanted to whack you with that pairing and be very explicit in the message I wanted to portray. Also in the back of my mind, this was a "this foreshadows episode 08" HAHAHAH

Fun fact, this was timed to Granite from Sleep Token originally, then I played around with Playing with God, which my opinion made it more intensive. I ended up with Classical Dragon from Marcin and Tim Henson but I'm not too fond of that either BUT i do not want to have this infest my mind because there's something else I want to go board for fun.

Ok now done HAHAH, hope you enjoyed this longgggg breakdown- this was honestly me trying to get more comfortable with Storyboard pro and also the idea of the monks being suspicious of Mizrak kept lingering in my mind. I look back on these boards and i know i could improve on these a lotttttttttttt BUT hey I'm now a lot more intentional with my choices than say a few months ago AND I have a lot more variety in shots and angles yipee :D

[kinmokusei-stars]

💚 Sweet Second Love 🌱

(Aka I wanted to draw InuKou alongside their past girlfriends shhh LMAO)

I've started feeling a little bit better, even if not by much, and figured I may as well draw out a concept I've wanted to do for ages to cheer myself up! I've wanted to do something with Inuyasha and Kouko with their past lovers for months, and finally came up with a nice composition for it! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ This description might be written a bit oddly, since I still have a pretty bad headache and am honestly exhausted, but hopefully it gets my point across! Please excuse any messiness in my wording! 💚

I think second loves are really underutilized in media with just how impactful they can be, all while not devaluing the love that had come before it. Kouko and Inuyasha are a bit unique from a lot of pairings in the fact that they're mutually not each others first loves.

Inuyasha had been in love with and dated Kikyo in the past, while Kouko had fallen in love with and been with Toshii, an old friend of hers from her training days.

Neither relationship ended well, and both left a big impact on all parties involved, that impact definitely not being positive. Inuyasha and Kikyo fell into a tragedy that was no fault of their own which we all know of, and Kouko and Toshii explosively fell out after Kouko learned of her being a demon and had her trust shattered.

Both relationship's ends left them alone and hurting and with hardly anyone who understood. Kouko had had time alone to come into her own and heal even slightly from what had happened between her and Toshii, but for Inuyasha it had been essentially a fresh wound since he was awoken. Even after he woke up, he didn't receive even half of the support he needed.

Their shared hurt was their first bonding point. Kouko understood what it was like to love someone and have her heart broken, after seeing him and Kikyo, it gave her a new perspective on him. She still had such a distain for demons, but the loss of love was something she had known well. She had gone through similar feelings, even if not with the same pain and degree of loss as him, and she realized that he needed more support than what he had been getting from the others, which was something she was completely willing to give. That built up a lot of trust between the two, and over time, after learning more about each other and finding out they mesh miraculously well, Kouko and Inuyasha's closeness led to the close knit and comfortable love they have today!

Though they had lovers before each other, that doesn't make what Kouko and Inuyasha have with each other any less sincere and genuine. It takes a lot of bravery to take the risk of falling in love again after such a bad ending in the past, and it was worth it for both of them to learn how to love again. To learn how to trust and give someone else your heart after having it shattered before. It's a leap of faith, but it's one you do together, and it's beyond refreshing when things truly do turn out to be good and secure in the end. They're so happy together, and really, that's what they deserve.

Anyways, my gushing about these two aside ( = ⩊ = ) I love how this turned out! I'm super happy with how soft the kiss turned out looking, though I had to mess with the lighting for around an hour until it started to look nice LMAO I'm so happy with the outcome, though! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ Toshii and Kikyo are always gorgeous too, I always love when I get the chances to draw them. ( ´ ꒳ ` )

(Doing this drawing also made me realize that both Inuyasha and Kouko have surprisingly well defined types that they fall for, and that wasn't at all intentional, but it's funny how things line up LMAO)

[ask-underzom]

why was papyrus killed off? will there be a scene describing his death, what happened to him? and can we see how it effects the characters afterwards? (sans, undyne, alphys, MTT specifically since they were the closest)

Papyrus was killed off mostly for character building purposes with Sans. and also bcz i cant and refuse to draw him. 😭

I promise you its for good reason. He’s naive and eager to help people. Personally, id dont think hed last long without toughening up a little. I love papyrus, but a zombie apocalypse is not where he belongs. Its not where a lot of these characters belong, which is why they all depend on each other.

In the comic. or. book. or whatever im gonna do with this au, there is gonna be a scene about his death, and theres gonna be reactions to it.

For how it impacts the characters, id prefer to. write it rather than show it with images, because its a LOT to draw out.

For one;

Sans was devastated. He tried to save Papyrus in the moment, but in an attempt he had used more magic than hes used to. Since monsters have gone years without use of immense amounts of magic (Modern commodities made it easier to live), summoning a powerful magic attack blinded him temporarily and left him visually impaired. After it settled in, he stopped doing a lot of things. He stopped getting up for militia work, quit working in the lab, and refused to leave his bed. He was useless for months until Alphys proposed an elaborate plan to, hopefully, find a cure.

Undyne was upset as well, but took a different approach to it. Prior to the incident, she was full of energy and determined to get through it. She tried to remain positive and keep people looking up, but that all .. fell apart once Papyrus died. She continued her work, but she got meaner. Straight to the point, no time for chit chat. She got impatient and demanding. Whatever the militia had been doing before, they were doing tenfold now. It lost a few members. Unlike Sans, she became more cautious and careful. Any sign of danger? She’d go in first ti make sure the others didn’t get hurt. She wasnt reckless; she wasnt cowardly. Undyne saw that without Papyrus, things got more serious, dangerous. She acted accordingly to such.

Mettaton didnt get a chance to know Papyrus until after the apocalypse started and he was called to come spend time with family instead of travelling. When the commune started and everyone had to go into groups, Papyrus was originally ordered to stay at base and help ration. Occasionally, he’d dabble in medical work while helping others under the supervision of his father, Gaster, or he’d help in entertaining other and keep them distracted. Thats where he met Mettaton. They talked, they bantered, and they hit off. They made good friends, and it stayed that way. A couple months after the apocalypse started, Muffet had joined the group and took over Papyrus’s position, which pushed him to join the militia. Mettaton, among others, urged him not to. When he did join, Mettaton was pretty upset. They saw eachother less and less, but when they did, he acted in support. After papyrus died, Mettaton’s life didnt change much. His routines seemed more… lackluster. He didnt seem as happy and distracting as he thought, and his attempts to cheer everyone up went pretty sour. He didnt put as much effort into his job as he should have been. Luckily, he made good recovery after some time of grief. He confided in Sans and Alphys, where Alphys was more of a help than Sans was.

Considering they werent… the best of friends, he got over it quicker than the others, but he was still down,

Other notable characters;

Alphys, who was upset for Sans and because Papyrus was usually great to be around. She seemed more unwilling to work for a week or two.

Dentin and Sid, who liked having Papyrus around. Dentin smiled less and Sid became more irritable, but they got through it.

Grillby was upset and tried to get Sans to talk about it with him, but to no prevail.

The commune itself seemed a little down after that, but most of them made good recovery after a 1-2 weeks of grief.

[dogboyklug]

part 1 - [you are here!] - part 3

yepyep . making true on my promise to make this a three parter i guess! hopefully the final part will be out soon

disclaimer: i am not blaming trans women as a whole for my trauma, nor am i saying that the patriarchy doesnt exist. lol. ok bye

text transcript / partial id once again under the cut!

UH-OH! part 2: no lol

i was a

uh

xenogender kid? double-rainbow freak?

[a drawing of very slightly younger me, awkwardly smiling and going "yaaaay".]

we don't have any slurs i think which is good but you get the idea

i tried a

[caps] LOT [end caps]

of other terms before i really settled with this one

[a drawing of a man with a shadow over his eyes. he has two sharp horns protruding out of his head. the drawing is captioned "genderfaun".]

[a drawing of little me singing "lemon boy" by cavetown, captioned "soft boi".]

[and, finally, a drawing of a slightly abstract creature with a long dress and tall horns, drawn in grey, and with vines crawling around it, captioned "voidpunk [hi fomes]']

it wasn't an instant click.

it took a lot of hearing the word, seeing the community in the corner of my eye, and finding 15 subreddits before i started thinking

[a drawing of younger me, looking at a subreddit, and going "oh, shit,"]

[followed by a decently well-drawn frontal sketch of me, genuinely smiling, sparkles around him, going "it me!!!"]

okay, so, like,

[caps] THIS. [end caps]

this has to be it.

i'm happy

i know who i am

i know [caps] WHAT [end caps] i am

i found an amazing community with amazing people working together to create something beautiful

[caps] THIS [end caps] is the end [caps] RIGHT?????

[a drawing of me, sobbing cartoonishly, my glasses foggy due to the tears.]

[followed, in the next page, by a half-view of my face, my glasses clouded due to light shining on them harshly.]

turns out knowing yourself and who you are and where you belong

isn't always quite enough.

[a drawing of me, face down, cushioned by my arms, my glasses next to me. below the drawing, black spikes rise, covering the bottom half of the comic.]

a lot of things happened very very quickly.

at least it sure felt that way

[a drawing of me, white against black, staring in horror at my phone.]

turns out my brother wasn't the only person who didn't believe my identity made sense.

there was - and probably still IS - a group of trans people dedicated to making sure trans men know their place.

we are the oppressors, we cannot be oppressed, no men can be oppressed.

no men can be [as in, feel] harmed. no men can be kind. no men can be loving. no men should be allowed to exist

testosterone is poison. it makes you violent, and it makes you cruel. it makes you ugly, and unlovable.

you are encroaching on trans territory by simply existing as a trans man.

anything you do or say or think or feel or know is at the expense of the oppressed. of trans women

your existence harms them and must be stopped.

[a crude, nearly featureless drawing of me, holding my glasses, staring in shock.]

i was fourteen ish when someone i knew on a discord server asked,

"if all men were to be killed and you were included would you feel gender euphoria?"

[a drawing of younger me, looking at his phone, one eye obscured, going "huh?"]

she was a trans girl and i think her name was lily.

but, uh, obviously,

men are oppressors

[a drawing of me, looking to the ground.]

men can't be oppressed

men can't be hurt! so

it's fine.

so if you really ARE hurt or oppressed,

[caps] YOU'RE A WOMAN [end caps]

and that means you feel dysphoric

[a drawing of me, gripping at my own shirt, staring at the camera, smiling in fear.]

and you wouldn't want to feel dysphoric, right?

that's

[caps] REALLY

THE WORST

PART OF

THIS

SITUATION

RIGHT?

[an incredibly messy, quickly-scribbled drawing of me, quite literally falling apart, now grinning slightly wildly, massive bags under his eyes.]

[caps] THE WORST POSSIBLE OUTCOME [end caps]

[in large font] ...uh oh.

[a small drawing of me, a single tear coming out of one of my eyes, a hand raised up as if to brush it away, obviously scared.]

[lilith-little-world]

Character ai is a mess. I went back to it and lost myself in it again, but I'm back now but idk for how long. So I'm gonna like speedrun all of my writing and editing for this and the 2nd chapter. Cause holy shit, I'm gonna be hella busy in a few months. Also found out I have a small and harmless heart condition...yeah so this month been crazy.

Also made a little drawing since I was gone for a while. Hopefully I’ll be back with weekly updates now I’m off of character ai and started to take meds for my heart.

I Saw You Once In a Dream, Maybe Pt 9

Is it too late to kick him out? He stares up at you and smirks. You can feel your face get ready as the embarrassment hits. You can't be seriously asking for him to tag along.

You might as well beg for him to come.

“Can you please, come with me? I would appreciate it, if you can. I'll even buy something for you.”

It took everything in you to stare back at him. The urge to smack him increased when his smirk widened.

How the fuck did you two got married in the future?

“Oh, of course, I will come along. Especially when you asked so nicely.” He stands up and heads to the front door, giving you one last glance.

You sigh and try to calm down. Ever since running into him, your day has been…well you can't even describe it. Was it bad? Good? Meh?

You lock the door and catch up to Monkey King, who was waiting for you on the sidewalk. He gives you a soft smile.

“So which way are we going?”

“There's a small market nearby. It's just a short walk, 5 minutes tops.”

You walk off and try to block out any thoughts of how you prefer that smile on his face.

Monkey King nods and follows you.

“So what are you planning for dinner? I'm not much of a cook but I can help!” He stares at you with that same soft expression.

What the hell happened?! Why is he acting all calm and sweet all of a sudden?

You continue to ignore your thoughts and how your heart was fluttering.

“I don't know, I guess we'll find out when I buy the groceries. I'm not much of a cook either. I just fall asleep and skip dinner for most nights.”

“I don't think that's healthy for a human.” He mutters. You can see he wanted to say something more.

“Maybe, but I never had a reason to make dinner. A snack or takeout was enough.”

“So why not tonight?”

“Well…” You felt nervous and embarrassed. “It's been a while since I had someone over at my house so I just thought…that maybe I should do something different- something special.” You didn't need to see your face to know you were blushing. You wanted to scold yourself for getting all flustered for no reason yet all your thoughts stopped when you glanced at Monkey King.

He stares at you with wide eyes.

“You're cooking dinner because of me?” His eyes seem to shine like stars. Beaming with fondness and affection. “Looks like someone is falling for me.”

“What?! I just met you!” You nudge his shoulder. You wanted to get mad or at least annoyed but you just laughed. Monkey King laughs with you as he bumps his shoulder with yours. “Sneakily” holding your hand. Intertwining his fingers with yours, his grasp firm.

You smiled at him and held his hand back. Leaning on his shoulder as you both walk to the grocery store.

Even though you two spent an hour there. You enjoyed his company. Monkey King, helping by grabbing items or just joking around and having fun. What had always been a chore for you, felt fun when he joined along.

Okay, maybe you're starting to understand why you married this idiot.

Also, you managed to buy a little more than usual since he could carry a lot of things. That was a huge plus for you, since you refuse to use your car for anything. Does that thing even work? Oh, wait, pretty sure you lost the key to it and are too lazy to get a new one.

“Thank you again for helping to carry the bags back. You can place it on the counter.”

“You bought a lot of things, how empty is your fridge?”

“Shhhh, we don't talk about that. I bet you don't even have a fridge, so don't judge.”

“There's literally nothing in here.” He said placing a few items in the fridge.

You blow a raspberry at him and put the refrigerated items in the fridge.

“I told you I usually eat a snack or takeout. I hardly cook.”

“Is it because you don't know how to cook? How worried should I be, when you serve me my plate?”

You roll your eyes.

“If you're so worried, then I won't serve you anything.”

“Hey now, I said, I would be worried but that won't stop me from eating it. Edible or not, you're serving me food you made! No way I'm passing that opportunity. Maybe I can pretend, my darling spouse made me the best dinner after a long day of work.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. Are we really going to roleplay being an old married couple or what? We barely met, Monkey King.”

“Wukong, you can call me Wukong.”

You raise a brow at him.

“Alright, Wukong. So we are on a first-name basis now huh?”

“I mean-” He glances away, but you can see his cheeks turning red. “I really want to have a relationship with you and it'll be weird having you calling me by my title.”

It was weird to see him so…embarrassed and flustered. Throughout this whole day, he has been teasing you. Maybe there were a few moments when you saw him more softly. You just laughed and ruffled his fur in his head.

“I guess you're right about that, so Wukong it is then. Now put on a show we can watch while I cook. Nothing fancy or crazy, just some regular easy and fast food.”

Wukong chuckles as he heads to the living room.

“Alright, fine, but no complaints about what I pick.”

You put away the groceries and left the ingredients out. Once in a while, glancing at the tv to see what Wukong was searching for. You head to the trash can to throw something away when you spot the stuffed toy.

A part of you felt bad for throwing it away but another part of you felt embarrassed that you even bought the toy. What would Wukong think? Would he tease you about it or be hurt that you threw it away? That's if he found out. I wonder what will be the consequences for this?

[serosluv2]

hi love! idk how long ago you posted that you wanted sero requests but here i am.

tattoo artist!sero and it’s like your first time getting tattooed and he talks you through everything that’s going to happen and everything that he’s doing and just making sure that you feel safe. i acc love it so much honestly it could be his partner or a complete stranger but honestly OBSESSED with this idea rn it’s doing my head in i just NEED it on paper

thank u sum for the request & i love tattoo artist!sero !!

You've been thinking about this for quite some time. Ever since you saw your eldest cousin with their first tattoo when you were much younger, you’ve been dreaming about getting your own.

On an impromptu girls' trip into the bright city of Tokyo, your closest friends, Momo and Ochako, convince you this is the time! “but I need to do so much more research about what place I want to go to! what sized needle I should get, and… SO MUCH MORE!” you say in the dimly lit bar, tipsy enough to even be thinking about this idea but not so much that you’re stumbling. “Oh, com’on Y/n !! my girlfriend knows this guy who owns a tattoo place, I think it’s near here, and he’s like, so legit ! she only goes to him and his people.” Momo chimes in. This made you even more unsure. You love Momo’s girlfriend! She is cool and funny but the crowd she runs with is… a wilder than you’re used to. “Is this the same guy that almost got us arrested at that house party?” you say back, reminding her of that night year or two ago. “oh my lord no !!! That’s Denki. this guy is Sero, he is super chill, an amazing artist, and can do anything. even those super small, dainty ones you like.” After about 3 more drinks, the three of you guys are outside by the bar, and Momo is calling this Sero guy, asking if his place is still open. and it is.

After about a 10 minute walk, you arrive at the place. “Tokyo’s Ink” looks cool enough. Rustic and dark enough to draw in the right crowd but oddly clean and tidy enough so no one thinks it’s some sketchy dump. you stumble in with the help of Momo and are greeted with a tall male at the front desk. “uh.. Momo, are you sure she’s ok to like do this?” aww sweet. you think. he clearly cares about his clients which makes you more open to trusting him like this. “yeah yeahh she’s fine. not as bad as ochako though.” momo replies, laughing before she notices- oh shit. where’s ochako? after mumbling you can’t understand between the two tall dark haired people, she dashed out, assuming to look for her. “so, y/n right? i think we met a couple times when you went out with momo and jirou.” oh yeah. You remember seeing him in the crowds with Jirou’s ragtag friends group. “oh yeahhh. you used to have a lip piercing, where’d that go?” you ask, peering up at his face. “oh i uh, got into a fight and it got ripped out.” he says so nonchalantly, leaving you stunned, wide eyed. “holy shit!” “yeah, so you’re thinking of getting a tattoo?” he says and sits back on the desk in the entry way. You can see him a little more clearly now and he’s gorgeous. His hair looks clean and soft, a little outgrown mullet but it looks good. His hands show the ends of some complex artwork going up his arms. even though his lip ring is gone, he still has a lot of other jewelry hanging from him. Earrings and bulky silver rings and a thin chain around his neck. “um yeah i’m definitely getting ones,” you say a little louder than you intended. “but i need to know you are like, legit.” you say and he laughs. It’s a nice, deep laugh that makes your heart do flips. He says he can take you to the chair where he’ll go over the procedure and you can ask any questions you want. “so hopefully you’ll come back when you’re in a better, state and we willl start by sketching out some designs of the tattoo you want. we’ll work on that untr it’s perfect for your pretty self,” your ears perk up and blush at his comment. He notices and smiles back at you, “then i’ll print it out as an outline and trace it with a marker on the spot you want, once that placent is where you want it to be then we will start inking.” he says.

Sero starts talking again. About needle sizes, ink color, if you wanted shading and color or just an outline, blah blah blah. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t focus on his words when he looked like that. he sat directly in front of you, legs slightly spread, you could see the tension his muscular thighs were putting those tight black jeans through. Sero, with his pericings almost glistening in the overhead light, a light that contorted the muscles of his arms, was slouching and leaning forward ever so slightly so that you could see down his thin and baggy white t-shirt to his chest. He stopped talking but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his torso. god he looks so good.

He said something. Your name maybe? Then he was standing. It only took half a step until he was towering over you. His hand reached up to caress your jawline and lift your chin up to him. You could smell him now. Not the sandalwood that aired in the shop but him. He didn’t smell like a cologne, more like fresh sheets, warm vanilla with a hint of that manly musk. “you got it, princess?” he said. you could feel his warm and calloused hand against your hot, soft skin. god he definitely works out. you don’t get calloused hands from tattooing. you thought. “um yes. i-i- i’m sorry what do i got?” you replied. Suddenly the buzz you felt in the bar was back but this wasn’t from alcohol, you were high off something else. He laughed softly before saying “i asked if you understood everything i just told you. we you want i can schedule you for an appointment tonight.” his hand dropped from you face and planted on the table behind you. He was leaning down, closer to you. You could practically feel his breath, his lips on you. Sero’s eyes darted down to your lips, then slowly back up to you. His eyes were determined. Searching for any discomfort in yours as he slowly, and i mean slowly, attempted to close the distance between you two until,

ba dingg !

the bell above the door jingled, causing the both of you to retreat quickly. “Found her !!” Momo exclaimed as she was dragging a very sad Ochako, face covered in ice cream, by her side. “O-Oh great !” you said standing up. Sero stood and backed up, giving you room to walk to your friends. He went behind the front counter and grabbed his scheduling book out from under it. Opening it he look at back at you, “so are you free next friday?” he asked clicking his pen, looking at you. “um, oh yes. yes i am after 4pm!” you replied. he scribbled something down and looked back up at you. “great then. i’ll see you at 5:00pm next friday.” he said with his million dollar smile. Momo then proceeded to tell you how late it was and how your group should probably turn in for the night. “I’ll walk you guys out!” Sero jumped into the conversation following Momo and Ochako already half way out the door. Then he put his hand on your lower back, guiding you out of his shop. You turn your head to thank him for letting you come in way past business hours. “don’t worry about it princess, it was my pleasure.” he whispered back to you. his lips softly kissing your neck for the first and last time that night before leading you out.

god you can’t wait until friday. now you just have less than two weeks to figure out what kind of tattoo you want.

[chameleontea]

Disenchanted MCs

Hey guys, I’m back with another installment of ‘I Have Way Too Many OCs’! And what I mean by that is that today I will be sharing my MCs from @disenchantedif‘s game! It’s super good and has a really interesting concept, so be sure to check it out!

Now, if you know me then you’ll know that I like to make different MCs for different routes. So for Disenchanted I have 7 MCs for each species available and to romance the different ROs. 

I can’t draw sadly, so I’ve used @elena-illustration‘s picrew! Anyways, I apologize for the rambling that’s bound to happen. And maybe I’ll share more OCs in the future if I can get over my crippling social anxiety :).

Sabina “Bibi” Fotiou

Gender/Pronouns: Nonbinary, They/Them

Species: Siren (They can transform in water with a deep purple tail, and they only have gills when in the water)

Personality: Bibi has always enjoyed being around people and used to be quite outgoing, but after being unchosen and cast aside by Luci, they've become much more closed off. They still deeply crave people's love and acceptance, but they've grown into an anxious mess that can barely hold a conversation without things turning awkward. They hate how much they've changed and wish that they could get themself back to where they were before, but instead they continue to stick their head in the sand in an attempt to avoid even more rejection.

ROs: Vik/Luci Poly (Viktor has been their greatest source of comfort and support after everything that happened, and they love him dearly. However, they’ve also never been able to fully let go of Lucien...)

Catalina “Lina” Montes-Romero

Gender/Pronouns: Transwoman, She/Her

Species: Banshee

Personality: Lina most likely isn't what people would expect a Banshee to be like. She's super outgoing and perpetually cheerful, always acting kind to people even though she knows that they talk badly about her behind her back. She always tries to stay positive, which isn't something that's easy to do when you can foretell death. But the truth is, the positive attitude is something that she uses to try to help her get through the day. Because she buries all of the negative emotions that come with her premonitions and with her unchosen status deep down inside. She can always feel it lurking inside of her, but she refuses to let it show. Lina is scared of that darkness inside of her taking over one day, so she keeps using her sunny smile to try to keep it at bay. Let's hope that it lasts.

RO: Harlow (Some of these ROs may be switched around, but for now I feel like the two banshees would be a good match since they can understand each other. They’ll probably make me cry though)

Ash Mulligan

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Woman, She/Her

Species: Sorcerer 

Personality: Ash has always been strong. She tries not to take things too personally, so maybe that's why she prefers to try to just move on with her life and forge a new path rather than hold grudges and dwell on what could have been. She's always been more laid-back and go with the flow, so she's going to do what's best for her and not let other people's opinions get in her way. She's never afraid to stand up for herself, but she also has a kind heart for those who make attempts to get to know her without judgment. And if you do end up becoming close to her, be prepared for her affectionate teasing and sarcasm.

ROs: Theo/Cam Poly (I could have made things easier on myself and just gone with the Theo/Vik poly, but I guess that I just like the rivals to lovers drama too much. At least Ash can hopefully stop Theodora from breaking Cameron’s kneecaps too many times...)

Lkhagvasuren “Suren” Munkbat

Gender/Pronouns: Transman, He/Him

Species: Nephilim (His wings are actually blue like a raven’s)

Personality: Suren was always shy and introverted, but he became even more reclusive after the events of his past. Even after the years that have passed, he can't help but feel heavy and weak with grief. Even when he does make a rare public appearance, it's unusual to see him actually speak to anyone other than Viktor and Theo, and the lost expression on his face really speaks for itself.

RO: ??? (Why on earth would I give the most depressed character the Wraith as an RO? I have no clue... but here we are) 

*I wanted to give Suren a Mongolian heritage, so I tried to reflect that in his name. I don’t know too much about Mongolian names though, so if I messed up please let me know and I will correct it! :)*

Levi Dorokhov

Gender/Pronouns: Cis Man, He/Him

Species: Basilisk

Personality: Levi has been stoic ever since he was a child, so it's hard to tell if he's always been so emotionless or if the trauma of his past caused him to lock away his emotions even tighter. There just seems to be numbness inside of him most of the time. Sure, he loves his friends and he enjoys things like reading and napping in the sun, but verbally and physically expressing his emotions is something that he just doesn't know how to do currently. If he tries to think about his emotions and their meaning for too long his brain just begins to short circuit. So it's easier to just float through life and not question the strange emptiness inside of him.

ROs: Charlie/Avery Poly (I have no clue how this will work out seeing as both Levi and Avery are emotionally constipated. At least Charles is good with expressing emotions, but it seems like he’s also not the best at recognizing romantic feelings, so really it’s just going to be a mess. But a fun mess hopefully)  

Aziz Khan

Gender/Pronouns: Agender, Xe/Xem

Species: Draca (Xyr scales are supposed to be a deep green color)

Personality: Aziz could be described as materialistic and self-absorbed, which is definitely a stereotype that xyr species knows well. But really, at this point, xe doesn't care anymore. People have been talking bad about xem and tarnishing xyr name for so long that xe can't even be bothered to try to prove them wrong. In xyr mind people will never see them in a positive light anyways, so why spend any energy trying to convince them? No, instead Aziz does whatever xe wants whenever xe wants. It may not be the best tactic to make friends with, but xe was never much of a people person anyways. Xe doesn't have the energy to care anymore.

RO: Penelope (She seems like a ride or die, and Aziz definitely could use more of that in xyr life. Also, I think that xe would get heart eyes if xe saw her get into a fight with someone or chew them out)

Mika Eskelinen

Gender/Pronouns: Genderfluid, Any Pronouns

Species: Cambion (They do not have wings)

Personality: Mika may have some anger issues... but after everything that they've been through can you really blame them? All of Mika's emotions are explosive, whether they're throwing a punch or shrieking in delight. And the one thing they do better than anything else is hold a grudge. They've always been rebellious and mischievous, and that certainly hasn't stopped now. You better always keep an eye out for their next scheme, or else their next victim may just be you.

RO: Ami (Someone please stop them, they are out of control. Imagine the chaos these two could get into together. Also, imagining the absolute breakdown that Amrita’s parents would have after finding out that their daughter is dating a cambion makes me smile) 

------

So that’s all for now! Maybe if I have more to say about them in the future then I’ll make another post. For now I’ll just sit here and feel bad about all the different ways I made their trauma affect them. Hopefully you guys like them though. I love my children, and I’m excited to see where the story takes them. 

Also, I did not proof-read this. So apologies if there are any mistakes lol.