#which might be cut down a bit once i'm editing...
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Photo
Aaaand just when I’m finally getting to the part I’ve been dying to write, my brain goes “That’s enough for who-knows-how-long”
But have a little snippet of things heating up, from Part 1
#writing things#fic stuff#kinda want this scene to be a sword fight where you don't know who's going to draw first blood#and make it so they're obviously evenly matched but are separated by circumstances#[insert more eloquent things here]#happy to say part 1 is just short of 5k words#which is halfway to the word goal of 10k#which might be cut down a bit once i'm editing...#rhaenyra x alicent#rhaenicent
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
but i'm a cheerleader
pairing : paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader
warnings : smut. semi–public sex.
notes : this is highkey unrealistic af so don't think too hard abt it! also i got kinda lazy while proofreading and editing, so there may be some errors/might feel a bit clunky at times, sorry in advance 🫠
words : 2148
xl center erupts with screams and applause as the final buzzer rings out— the university of connecticut’s women’s basketball team, for the tenth game in a row, has come out victorious, winning with a whopping forty–seven points over their competitors.
you jump up from where you’ve been sitting cross–legged at the baseline of the court and shake your bright red pom–poms, yelling out one of your cheers. the rest of the girls follow suit after you, their captain, perfectly in sync as the pep band begins to play the uconn husky fight song.
you’re never not tired as hell at the end of a game— the exhaustion from your halftime performance starting to set in and your head dully aching from your tight half–up–half–down hairstyle— but none of that ever deters you. you’re captain for a reason, bringing sharp precision, clean lines, and high energy to every performance, whether its on a court, field, or stage.
but of course, even the best of best have their weaknesses.
yours has actually landed you in trouble before, just once— you missed a whole count because you were distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes watching you intently from uconn’s bench, her intrigued expression being replaced by a smirk once she realized she’d caused your mishap. coach really chewed you out next practice, but you got got the blue–eyed girl’s number after that game, so it was honestly kind of worth it.
your post–game cheer earns its own round of applause from the remaining fans in the stands, and you bow, shaking your poms the whole way back to the baseline, where your coach awaits you. she offers a few nice jobs and back pats, as well as a fair share of critiques, before finally telling you all you’re free to go.
while the rest of your team head for the cheer locker room, you start toward the opposite direction. “y/n?!” one of your teammates calls out after you, confused.
“go on, i’ll meet you guys later!” you reply, before running to meet paige at the other side of the court, by the stands.
there’s still a large crowd of fans waiting to take pictures and have their jerseys signed by your girlfriend, but once she notices you approaching, she yells out, “alright, y’all, that’s it for tonight! thanks for coming!”
her voice softens when she turns to you and smiles, “hey.”
“hey, you,” you say gingerly, hyper–aware of the cameras fixed on paige, and so also you, by extension.
she nods her head in the direction of the arena’s large exit doors, silently instructing you to follow her.
you keep a safe distance while you’re still in the presence of the fans and cameras and the media, but as soon as you’re both in the tunnel, so dark that no one can see you, paige is all over you. her hands fly to your waist if they’re under the control of a magnetic pull as her lips press to yours, gasping into your mouth. you shudder as you melt into the kiss, into her, throwing your arms around her neck. you part your lips, allowing her to lick into your mouth— you want her to eat you alive.
“you were so good out there,” you tell her once you part, voice breathy.
paige grins cockily, already knowing that she played well, and you can see that your red lipstick has transferred onto her mouth, making you laugh. “what? what’s funny?” she questions, confused but chuckling a bit herself.
you shake your head. “nothing, just—” you point at your own lips, which you’re sure have also gotten smudged. “you’ve got something.”
“ah,” she rolls her eyes, genuinely sounding irked, which only makes you laugh harder. “well, you’ve got something—”
she cuts herself off by simply kissing you again, a light peck, taking your hand into hers soon after she separates your bodies.
high on the rush of the win and each other, you two walk hand–in–hand to the women’s locker room— only to be met with aubrey, crouched at her locker as she finishes packing up her things. if not your lipstick literally being smeared all over paige’s lips, then the flush on both of your faces and the way you freeze and suddenly drop each other’s hands, even though both of your teams are aware of your relationship and you have nothing to hide, certainly tells the older girl everything she needs to know.
she simply stuffs a few more of her things into her bag before heading out, lightly punching paige on the shoulder and laughing as she passes by, “see y’all!”
one you hear the door close, you and paige just look at each other before bursting into giggles at the interaction. “she’s never gonna let me live that down.” the blonde groans, wrapping her arms around your waist again.
you just laugh, falling quiet as you find yourself lost in her eyes for the nth time since you first met her. those eyes will be the death of you, you’re sure of it. she gets kind of sheepish whenever you look at her for too long, avoiding your gaze and blushing— you’re not sure why, she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. “i love you.” you say, very seriously.
“i love you, too, y/n,” she responds, just as earnest, and leans in to kiss you, only to be stopped.
“wait,” you say, reaching up and finally taking that godforsaken ponytail down, feeling all the tension in your head release as soon as you do. you drop the hair tie and bow to the ground, haphazardly brushing your hair out of your face with your fingers as it falls out of the style.
“god, you’re so fucking pretty,” the blonde marvels aloud, before finally kissing you again.
your lips move together languidly as her hands move down until they’re cupping your ass, kneading the soft flesh in her palms. “paige,” you whine into her mouth, allowing your head to roll back as her lips trail wet, open–mouthed kisses from your jawline all the way down your exposed collarbones.
“yeah, baby?” she replies and then sucks harshly at a particularly sensitive spot, making you whimper.
“want you,”
“here?” she pulls back slightly to scan the locker room— everyone else’s belongings are gone, it’s just her bag and shoes left in front of her storage space. still, someone may have forgotten something and could easily walk in on you while trying to find it. “someone could see—”
you don’t care. you pull paige back in, connecting your lips again, pushing your tongue into her mouth and kissing her with the kind of fervor that makes it impossible for her to deny you. she guides you backwards until your back is pressed to the one navy blue wall that isn’t lined with lockers, her hands feeling you all over.
her fingertips find their way to the hem of your tiny skirt, pulling up until the fabric is bunched up high on your hips, revealing the even smaller red safety shorts you’re required to wear under your uniform. she steps back briefly to give you some space so you can push them and your panties down your legs, kicking them aside, before she slots her thigh between your legs. already knowing exactly what to do from experience, you grind down against her thigh, and it feels so good when you clit drags against her bare skin, you whimper and repeat the motion again and again.
paige uses one hand to hold you steady with a strong grip on your waist, while the other works at pushing up the top piece to your uniform and bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the locker room. she immediately leans down to suck and lick at one of your firm nipples while rolling over the other with her free thumb. the sounds are obscene— your moans, paige’s slurping, and the squelch of your wet pussy rubbing against her thigh all coming together to fill the room.
“fuck, p,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut. “so good.”
paige releases your nipple from her mouth with low groan, briefly licks at the other, before standing upright. she leans in, dangerously close and she whispers into your ear, “i can feel it, y’know. you really want my fingers that bad?”
you blush, flustered by her referring to the way your pussy keeps clenching against her thigh, showing how needy you are, but still nod. “need it, paige, please,” you whimper, hoping she’ll give in quicker if you beg for it.
you’re proven correct, because your girlfriend plants a quick kiss on your cheek, murmuring, “anything for my girl,” before removing her thigh from between your legs, dropping down to her knees and crouching in front of you. ever the tease, she starts by kissing at your thighs, whispering sweet nothings into your skin— beautiful, so pretty, good girl, all mine.
and then two of of her long, slender fingers are prodding at your entrance, easing in nice and slowly. your pussy clenches around the digits, welcoming her inside like an old friend, your walls slick and velvety.
you allow your head to tip back against the wall, eyes closing again, “oh my god.” paige knows your body so well, knows just how to angle her fingers and jab at that sweet spot inside you, the one that makes you cry every time. she adds her mouth to the mix, kitten–licking at your clit before sucking it into her mouth, sending shivers up your spine.
“i’m close,” you cry out, and paige hums against you encouragingly, sending vibrations all throughout your core.
what really has you tipping over the edge is the look in her eyes when you finally will yours open, staring up at you with such adoration as she gets you off. you always said those eyes would be the death of you; your kryptonite. you nearly fold over as your orgasm hits you, legs shaking as the pleasure ebbs throughout your whole body, sobbing out your girlfriend’s name.
“you good?” paige chuckles, amused by your struggling. her lips, covered in your cum and arousal, plus your lipstick from earlier, are glistening in the fluorescent lighting of the locker room— the sight is so hot, you almost feel ready to orgasm again. almost.
“y–yeah, i just—” you swallow thickly, heaving. “need a minute.”
paige’s hands grip your hips, holding you steady until she feels you’re able to stand on your own. only when she’s certain you won’t topple over does she let go of you, sweetly kissing you on your forehead when she stands up. “i’ll be right back, wait here,” she tells you, disappearing momentarily.
“dude! i look fucking insane!” you hear her yell out, making you laugh weakly. you figure she’s found a mirror.
she returns with a wet hand towel, having washed off her mouth, hands, and thigh. she’s gentle as she cleans you up, knowing you’re still sensitive. then, she grabs your panties and shorts from off the carpeted floor, bending over and holding them at your ankles to help you re–dress.
“wait, but i wanted to do you, too,” you whine, a genuine pout setting in on your face as you step back into the panties.
paige shakes her head. “when we get home,” she offers. “i don’t wanna… defile this place any more than we already have.”
you laugh, again, at her choice of words. paige helps you get back into your shorts, as well, and you pull your skirt, bra, and top back down to their regular positions, smoothing over your uniform with the palms of your hands, trying to look at least a little bit presentable for when you walk out of here. paige wanders off toward her locker, changing out of her uniform.
finally feeling stable enough to walk, you find your hair tie and bow on the ground, rolling the former onto your wrist. “wait, c’mere,” you wave paige over, just as she’s pulling a fresh t–shirt over her head.
“hm?” she hums as she approaches, but you just motion for her to lean down a bit. she complies, and you place your bright red bow in her hair, right at the top of her ponytail.
“awww,” you gush at the sight. paige just looks at you, trying her best to appear unimpressed, but you can see the smile playing at her lips. “so pretty! cheer captain!”
she spends all of thirty seconds pretending like she’s not enjoying this, before breaking out into a dance, very poorly imitating your cheer routine from earlier. you encourage her, nonetheless, clapping and cheering, “go paige! go paige!”
she finishes with a ridiculously complex move that you’re pretty sure belongs to some tiktok dance learned recently with kk, grinning, “how was that?”
“10/10, hands down!”
880 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! I have a request if that's okay? Could you maybe do a James Potter x male!reader (with the reader being Ravenclaw) where they end up being partnered together in potions and afterwards James is like 'shit. I think I might be gay.'
Basically where the reader is his gay awakening haha
A Revelation in Potions (Not Through Amortentia, That's too Generic)
pairing: james potter x male!ravenclaw!reader
summary: in which James never knew men could be so attractive until he gets paired up with you in a Potions activity.
genre: fluff, gay awakening, crushing
wc: 2.1k
warning/s: cursing, reader is a little taller than james, he/him pronouns, gay panic, james is a lil shy here, potion nonsense that i made up on the spot, reader is good in potions, mention of boobs lmao
note: oooh, interesting request anon. i like it. i hope you enjoy!!
oneshot under the cut :: not edited :: part 1 | part 2
James Potter was dying.
No, not literally. But he did feel like he was literally dying.
This is what a painful death felt like, didn't it? The inability to properly take in air, the painful pounding of his racing heart, the stumble of his tongue as he tried and failed to properly speak.
On the contrary, James Potter was not just dying. He was dying of embarrassment.
Let's rewind a little bit for some context.
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were stuck in the dungeons of a double Potions class together. As usual, James sat beside his friend Sirius Black, and as usual, they were noisy with sniggers and poorly muted whispers.
"Black, Potter, do you have something that you'd like to share?" Professor Slughorn called to the two boys sitting in the back after a wheeze from Sirius was too loud for the professor to ignore.
"No sir, we're — we're fine," James said, sounding slightly out if breath from containing his laughter at a joke Sirius had made. "Just a little hot in here, isn't it?"
Slughorn sighed. "It's less hot here in the front, Potter, so why don't you switch with Shelby here?"
The girl sitting beside you perked up at the mention of her name, looking back and blushing when she realized that she was going to be sitting beside Sirius Black.
"On the contrary sir, I think I feel slightly colder already," James grinned. "I'm fine with staying at the back."
"I insist, Potter," Slughorn held a strained smile, displaying the fact that James had no choice but to follow.
The boy sighed, giving Sirius an exaggerated mournful look before picking up his things and walking over to the now vacant seat in the front, messing up his hair along the way out of habit.
He set his things down beside his chair and slumped into it, sparing a glance at his new seatmate. "Hello. I guess you're stuck with me for today," James said quietly, not wanting to disrupt Slughorn's lesson again.
You turned to face him, giving him a small smile. "I guess so. Nice to meet you."
James nodded, and you looked away to jot down some notes as Slughorn wrote on the board.
James did a double take, his brain just processing the face he saw.
Woah, he's handsome.
He couldn't stop himself from looking at you again, taking in your features from the side; your focused eyes, your cheeks, your jawline, your lips.
James had to make himself blink twice to snap himself out of his trance. I'm straight. So what if he's handsome? I'm handsome too.
"Now that we're done with our lesson, you will use the rest of the period to brew a simple Sleeping Draught with your seatmate," Slughorn announced. "Go through your books for the procedure, and don't hesitate to ask me any questions you may have."
With a wave of his wand, a cauldron appeared on the side of each pair's table. "The ingredients are in the cupboard behind me," he continued, waving his wand once more to open the cupboard doors. "You may begin."
James went to stand up, but you put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He looked at you and saw that you got to your feet. "I'll go get the ingredients. Can you partially fill the cauldron with water and heat it up please?" You asked.
"Uh — sure," James responded, making you smile and pat his shoulder twice before leaving with you Potions book in hand.
James stared after you, shook his head to focus. You gave him a task, and he had the weird goal to not let you down. He muttered “aguamenti” under his breath and water spilled out of the tip of his wand, filling the the cauldron. He flicked his wand upward to stop the flow once the water was halfway.
He ignited a fire under the cauldron and stayed standing over it, watching bubbles appear in the water.
“I’m back,” you greeted, gently putting down the ingredients on the empty part of their table.
James turned his head to look at you, his breath hitching when he noticed that you had a few inches over him, the top of his head reaching a little bit above your eyebrows.
He watched you pull the sleeves of your uniform upwards to your elbows, revealing your forearms. He swallowed with difficulty.
Get your head in the game, Potter, James thought, mentally slapping himself. He’s just a random boy from Ravenclaw whose taller than you and has really nice arms. Big deal.
“I’ll cut the ingredients up, you put them in the cauldron and follow the stirring. Is that okay?” You asked, giving him a glance before you put the ingredients on the cutting board in front of you.
“You’re doing an awful lot of work, huh?” James said, chuckling breathily, making you laugh slightly in response.
“Stirring properly and putting the ingredients in is also important, is it not?” You smiled teasingly, cutting the plant root with as much accuracy as possible.
He watched your fingers glide over the root and how the veins on the back of your palm popped to life when you gripped the knife.
Holy shit, James, control yourself, the messy-haired boy scolded himself. Think boobs. Boobs!
“Are you ready for the Quidditch match tomorrow?” You asked, attempting to break the semi-awkward silence between you two.
“Ah,” James remembered that Gryffindor had a match against Hufflepuff. In truth, he wasn't all that worried about it, since he's seen their Seeker and he isn't much (NO HATE ON HUFFLEPUFF, I LOVE HUFFLEPUFF <33).
"I think I'm ready," James said after a moment of silence. "I don't feel all that worried about it," he grinned, sending the boy a wink. Why he did that when he normally only did it to girls (with the exception of his own friend group) he had no idea why. I guess being with you made him full of even more surprises.
You rolled your eyes playfully at him. "Sure." You handed him the chopping board with your evenly cut plant roots on it. "Time for you to shine, Mister Potter. Pour it and stir it properly."
James took the board with an exaggerated bow. "It's my pleasure, good sir." He tossed the roots in the boiling cauldron almost carelessly, some of the water splashing onto the back of his hand.
You, who was supposed to be grinding some mineral to powder, immediately set down your mortar and pestle to check on the boy who winced in pain as the hot water made contact with his skin.
"Be careful!" You scolded, gently grabbing his hand and examining it. "It's not that bad of a burn, but we're gonna have to rinse it with warm water."
James nodded dumbly, the pain numbing slightly as soon as his hand made contact with yours.
Soft hands, he noted.
You dragged him over to the sink on the other side of the room and let the faucet run for a little while before guiding his hand under the running water, your focus blinding you from James's stare.
I'm straight. I'm straight. Straight as a wand.
"Does it hurt, Potter?"
"James," He answered absentmindedly.
"What?"
"Call me James. Not Potter."
You looked up, his big brown eyes staring at you behind round, silver-rimmed glasses. "Okay, James," he totally did not shiver at the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue, "does it hurt?"
James shook his head. "It feels way better now."
"Are you sure?" You questioned, brows creasing in concern.
"Yeah — yep, I'm fine," he answered, his eyes unblinking as he maintained eye contact with you despite his small stumble over his own words. "We can just continue brewing the potion, yeah?"
Which brings us to the present moment, where he felt like he was dying.
"Okay, as long as you're sure..." You said, not entirely convinced but letting it slide for now.
You pulled down your sleeve on one arm to use it to wipe the extra water that lingered on his hand before letting it go entirely. James was already missing the warmth.
"Let's head back," you said, checking your watch as you turned around to return to your table and to resume your tasks of preparing the ingredients.
Your work commenced in silence. Your potion was a little messed up from the lack of stirring and addition of the other ingredients, but it wasn't unsalvageable. You just added some bark and leaves to balance it out a little.
You hesitantly handed the ingredients to James, worried that he was going to hurt himself again, but this time he was gentle, smiling at you victoriously as if not getting burned again was an accomplishment — which it was, you guess.
"You're stirring too quickly, James," you said, laughing slightly at his somewhat aggressive stirring.
"It didn't say that speed mattered," he replied cheekily, continuing his ministrations.
You sighed, shaking your head slightly with a smile on your face as you took a step towards him and grabbed his stirring hand, the one that wasn't burned. James eyes widened a fraction at the contact, but said nothing.
"Slow down," you murmured, guiding his hand to a much slower pace compared to the one he had set moments before. "No need to rush."
James didn't reply, too busy trying to tame the redness of his cheeks. In order to guide him, you had to stand close behind him, your chest grazing his back and your breath fanning his ear and part of his neck. Goosebumps trailed over the skin that your hot breath caressed.
"'Stir clockwise until potion turns a light shade of blue,'" you read from the instructions in your book. "What do you think, James? Is our potion ready yet?" You hummed the question almost directly in his ear.
This damn man. No way is he not doing this on purpose.
"It — No, not yet," He said, mentally whacking himself in the back of his head for his stammering.
"Alright, we keep stirring then."
You could have let go of his hand already and let him stir on his own, but you didn't. You kept your hand over his, clutching it in a gentle grip, until your potion turned from purple into a light blue.
You smiled. James, for some reason, could feel that smile despite not seeing it. It tingled in the back of his brain.
"Okay, we're done."
You let go of his hand, moving to the side to grab a dropper and a vial. James pulled the stirrer out of the cauldron and set it aside, watching you collect some of your potion and putting it in the vial.
"The Sleeping Draught can be deadly in large amounts," you said, collecting more of the potion as a bit of your Ravenclaw brain slipped out. "If you take too much of it, your calming sleep will also turn into an endless one."
You put down the dropped and took a stopper to seal the vial. You looked up at James with a smile that James could only interpret as mischievous. "Everything can kill you if you have too much of it, don't you agree?"
You don't wait for him to reply before going to the front and placing your vial in the empty rack on Slughorn's table, holding a small conversation with Slughorn before returning to get your things.
"We can leave early," you informed James, grinning. You shouldered your bag and adjusted your blue tie to not choke you as much, the hot atmosphere of the Potions room getting to you a little. "See you around, James."
You left him staring at your back, mouth slightly open and eyes wide.
Sirius passed him to get some ingredients his partner forgot to retrieve earlier and noticed his dumbfounded expression. "You good, Prongs? What happened to your hand?" He asked, looking at James's hand as he raised it to ruffle his own hair.
"Pads," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "Pads, I think I'm in love."
"Huh?" He followed his best mate's gaze, catching a glimpse of your uniform before you disappeared completely. Sirius looked back at the bespectacled boy with a cheeky grin on his face.
"Nah mate, I think you just got your gay awakening. Welcome to the club, Prongs."
"Yeah..." James's eyes were still fixed on the doorway where you once were, before his eyes snapped to Sirius's when his words fully processed in his brain. "Wait, you're gay??"
Sirius shrugged. "I'd be disappointed in myself if I wasn't," he joked, clapping James on the back. "You got good taste for your first boy crush," Sirius said before leaving James to his unpacked things and his own thoughts.
Can't argue with Padfoot about that: I definitely got good taste in men for my first guy crush...
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x male reader#marauders#marauders x reader#marauders x male reader#marauders era#sirius black#male reader#harry potter
505 notes
·
View notes
Text
Carving Commotion
summary: You go over to Jenna's for some halloween fun
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader
tw: none really? light mention of knives for pumpkin carving but thats it (if i'm missing something let me know so i can fix/add)
words: 1.09k
a/n: Happy Halloween guys! i did this at the last minute if i'm honest. only did light editing and proofing so there might be some mistakes lol.
You pushed the doorbell in with your elbow, hearing the familiar sound echoing from within the house. You barely even had to wait thirty seconds before the door shot open, your girlfriend standing on the other side with a blinding smile.
You noticed her eyes excitedly jump down to the two pumpkins in your arms, her smile growing wider if that was even possible.
"What're you staring at, Ortega? My eyes are up here," You joked, smirking at your girlfriend's exasperated expression.
"You're late," if she rolled her eyes any harder, they would've rolled right out of her head, "just, get in here already."
Despite the jokes, both of you truly did love Halloween, it was one of the best times of the year. The two of you planned to spend the whole night together carving pumpkins and watching scary movies.
As you walked through the house you noticed all the decorations set up. Fake cobwebs adorned with plastic spiders hung in the hallway, fake bats hung from the living room fan, caution tape littered doorways, and The Monster Mash played quietly in the background. She really does go all out for Halloween, you thought to yourself.
Jenna helped you put the pumpkins down on the kitchen counter. She grabbed out the soap and a scrubby brush and told you to clean off the pumpkins in the sink, which you happily obliged.
You got lost in thought while cleaning off the pumpkins. You were excited, you couldn't stop thinking about what to carve. Should it be something elaborate and scary? Or maybe something simple and cute? Maybe a mix of both? It was your first Halloween with Jenna after all, and you didn't want to scare her off with your excitement.
By the time both pumpkins were done and washed, you turned back around to find the kitchen table covered in trash bags and Jenna setting the table with a handful of carving knives.
"Carving pumpkins isn't just some elaborate excuse to murder me, right?" You joked. Once again you saw her eyes roll, but the smile on her face told you she was far from annoyed.
"I could never kill you, you're too cute for that," She looked over at you and winked. The gesture alone made your knees wobbly and your stomach twist into knots.
Jenna refused to show you what she was carving into her pumpkin. You could see her eagerly getting into her drawing, her eyebrows furrowing in the cutest way while her Sharpie moved wildly in front of her. It’s a surprise, she insisted.
You decided that if Jenna could get so excited and into her pumpkin carving, so could you. You drew up the best pumpkin face you could think of, sharp gnarly teeth, and slanted eyes. The design wasn’t as good as you normally drew, but you chalked it up to the cute brunette across the table distracting you.
Once you had decided the design was good enough, you picked out a knife and started cutting away. You started with some of the bigger details, watching as the big knife cut through the pumpkin like butter.
It felt like forever, carving out little bits at a time, and you were covered in pumpkin guts up to your elbows. But finally, you were finished!
“Done!” You shouted, setting the knife down and jumping up from your seat. You looked over at Jenna to see her giggling at you, but you didn’t mind, you liked the sound of her laugh.
“Can I see yours now?” You asked, excited to finally see what the surprise was.
“Sure, love,” She smiled, getting up from her chair to turn her pumpkin around so you could see it, “I finished a few minutes ago anyway.”
She spun the pumpkin around to show a more traditional-looking jack o’ lantern. It had big triangle eyes and a toothy grin. Even though it wasn’t scary it still seemed much better than yours. Somehow hers looked perfect, and yours looked terrible.
“Wow…” you hadn’t even realized you said it till Jenna's face lit up, her smile growing brighter than the full moon on a cloudless night. You’d say it a million more times too if it got her to smile like that again.
“Come on baby, let me see yours,”
You spun your pumpkin around, albeit a bit reluctantly. Hers was so much better than yours, she was going to laugh at you for sure. Yours was a bit more on the scary side, pointy teeth with sharp fangs and hooded eyes, though it wasn’t very good.
You waited for the laughing, but it never came. Instead, she looked impressed… like really impressed. “Baby, that’s amazing, I love it,”
You were shocked. She had to be lying, right?
“Really?”
“Yeah baby, it's perfect.”
You rolled your eyes, attempting to hide the smile that crept up on your, “I mean, it’s alright, but it’s nowhere near as good as yours.”
She could tell you were joking around, but she decided to play along. She gasped, feigning shock, “What? Yours is like twice as good as mine,”
“Oh, well now I know you’re lying to me,” You joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm.
“What? I would never!”
“Liar!” You all but shouted it, faking an upset look. You crossed your arms and looked over your shoulder pretending to pout.
It was silent for a second. Then something slammed into your chest, smacking back down on the table.
You looked at your chest, then the table… She had thrown a handful of pumpkin guts at you.
“Why you little-” You grabbed the lump she had thrown at you and tossed it back with a smirk. She ducked at the last second and the pile landed with a wet splat against the wall.
You saw her laugh, then she started reaching for the bowl of guts in the middle of the table.
“Oh no you don’t,” You reached as fast as you could, both you and Jenna grabbed the bowl at the same time.
Fifteen minutes later, you were both covered head to toe in pumpkin guts. It covered the walls, the floor, and the table. Some made it as far as the living room, but most of it clung to you and Jenna. It was agreed that you’d both have to shower and clean up before any movies could be watched. But despite the mess, and the feeling of pumpkin strings down the back of your shirt, you already knew this was your favorite Halloween yet.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x gn!reader#void-wolfie
401 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩
summary: the night before anthony and simon's duel from benedict's perspective.
warnings: angst, anxiety
a/n: wc: 546. this is a cut scene from ch. ii. of perfect all-american bitch, my benedict bridgerton x reader series where benedict becomes the viscount, but can be read as a standalone since this is a flashback sequence! despite how long the chapters already are, that's after i've spent a full day editing them lol, so i'm thinking of posting scenes that i've cut/would've liked to include in the main story but wasn't super relevant to the plot (like this one)
Benedict and Colin exited the study feeling about a decade older than when they walked in. Anthony had provided them grimly detailed instructions on what to do in both of the worst case scenarios. The two younger brothers congregated in Benedict’s bedchamber to go over the logistics one last time.
Colin was to remain on guard at the home. He would arrange for a hired hack to be at the house to transport Anthony to either the docks or the hospital. He needed to keep Daphne from interfering, their other siblings away from any violent sights, and their mother calm.
Benedict needed to contact the solicitor to secure their financials. They would need to give notice of either death or disappearance to the people of Aubrey village and to Parliament. They might have the Bow Street Runners called on them in a few days time. Benedict might have to arrange for the funeral and a casket and—
Oh dear, the room was spinning.
Benedict had been running through the list in his head for the past few hours, his cursed version of counting sheep. Colin was snoring on the bench at the foot of the bed, occasionally bumping against the frame.
Colin seemed a great deal calmer than Benedict. He seemed quite sure that the duke would yield, or that they would both fire their pistols wide. Perhaps, he was truly that optimistic, if a bit naive. But perhaps, he was only putting up a front. Because when Benedict suggested Colin go back to his own bedchamber once they were through, his younger brother had insisted he was too comfortable to move.
It was a bald-faced lie if he ever saw one. Colin was taller than Benedict, which meant his legs were scrunched up when he was horizontal on the bench. But he managed to fall asleep anyway, and Benedict draped a spare blanket over him before retiring to bed himself.
And truthfully, Benedict did not want to be alone either. If this was their last night of normality, he would rather spend it together than apart. He laid staring at the ceiling until the first streams of sunlight threatened to breach the inky sky.
It was time.
They made their way down to Anthony’s study. This would be Colin’s post; close enough to the main entrance to execute his tasks, but hidden away from the staff, and more importantly, their mother.
Benedict clasped a hand on Colin’s shoulder; he hoped the gesture came across strong and reassuring, but Benedict felt more like he was grasping onto a life-jacket.
Colin was still boyish, the baby fat not quite melted off his face, and looked entirely too young to be dealing with this. He mirrored his brother, also grabbing Benedict’s shoulder. “This whole affair will all be over in a few short hours,” Colin said with a small smile.
Benedict couldn’t bring himself to agree as it would be disingenuous. There was something peculiar in the air this morning, as hokey as that sounded. Something just wasn’t sitting right with him, but he couldn’t put doubts in Colin’s head.
He was the older one, so act like it. “The only way out is through,” he said with the solemn resolve to bring this business to an end.
why was this cut? as much as i liked exploring the relationship between colin and benedict (tbh i love getting the chance to explore any bridgerton sibling relationship hence why beneloise got a whole prologue), but 1. i was approaching a ridiculous word count and 2. it didn't entirely make sense for benedict to start the story from the night before.
taglist: @daddy-obrien @noirrose21-blog @loviyysev1045 @giuseppeverd1 @chauchirem @camilalexa93 @books-with-se @alexlovesfiction @dreamssfyre @czarinera @chris9683 @g4ns3y @kindbearqueen @mattelbaby @witchyvoman @ayidipinursue @fairyellieee @78-bratz-doll @simbaaas-stuff @starcollector13 @bonitoflakes071 @dallamdoll @2005priness @mythixlly @sickmarriedandying @takemeoutrose @boojaynaqueen @amaliarosewood @everybodys-favorite516 @abrose11 @bluelittleblackgirl @guppypuppy84 @mayalopes @how2besalty @reginageorje @aprilthearcher @5hundreddaysofsummer @niniackerman @bonjour28 @thebazil3 @answrr @quadrisl @livingvicariously1 @bitchyally @renintheszn @napollya @bitchfuckdotcom @imagandom @bugg06 @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @cassiejpg @mrspotterlupinblack @jinx53 @naclara98421 @themeanestlittlewitch @dpaccione @rainybabe25 @mysticenvy @crazymar15 @scooper-trooper @universal-s1ut @fairyfelicitysmoak @tittiemama @rr1tualz @giulssmediobolud4 @pastelpunkpercy @ladybird-666 @sparky2020sworld @radstrangerdinosaur @lillyrosenight
if you weren’t tagged, check your privacy settings!
#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fic#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton netflix#bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton#colin bridgerton fic#benedict bridgerton fic
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
Domestic yandere Todoroki family part two
So, last post you may have been thinking 'only one of them shows any yandere tendencies, where is the spice?' The 𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓮 isn't here either, you get to spend time with Rei and you are going to like it 😠🫵.
Small notes:
I am a character ai goon that cheated or skipped all creative writing assignments in school, so if this is dog shit, it is what it is. This might actually be the first post I actually post that features my writing in detail.
I accidentally wrote with she/her and didn't even realize it, but I'm just going to leave it because it's smoother to read than y/n every other word, so if you want me to edit this for he/him or they/them, comment and I will with a separate tag
♡
You wake up in the morning to a cold feeling on your forehead. As you slowly wake up, you are a bit uncomfortable by the cold feeling and open your eyes to see a blurry pale arm and whiffs of citrus, vanilla and amber, Mom's perfume, impossible for you not to recognize. You get a little scared by the change since she hasn't woken you up in ages, you got used to Fuyumi's gentle voice, or Shoto pulling you out of bed with zero struggle like you are made of stuffing. You wonder if you did something wrong yesterday.
"Sh, sh, darling." Mom shushes gently, her hands trail down to your plump cheeks and rest there, her thumbs gently caressing your face, trying to calm you and your worries.
You try to blink away the sleep and fuzziness in your sight. You go to rub your eyes but Mom gently but swiftly takes hold of your little hands and brings them back down by your tummy.
"Sweetheart, Shoto caught a pretty nasty cold, so he won't be able to go to school..." Mom says with her gentle voice as she holds your hands.
Mom smiles as she watches the gears turn in your sleepy little head as you wonder how Shoto got sick, she lets go of your hands, her hands dip out of your view. "It looks like you haven't been bit by the sickie bug yet... Oh no baby... I think I see a bug in your bed." Mom says, her soft voice laced with concern.
You feel a tingling tickling sensation scurrying up your leg, which causes you to shoot out of your bed, kicking away blankets. Mom scoops you right up into her lap. "Don't worry darling," She holds up her hand that's curled into a loose fist "Mama caught the sickie bug, now it can't bite you," Mom says softly.
A small burst of frost comes from Mom's hand, your eyes widen with amazement as Mom kills the totally real bug, saving you from a bad cold and getting revenge on the evil bug that bit Shoto, like she always does when a sibling is sick.
Mom opens her hand, all that is left of the bug is a pile of snow. "Now that there is nothing left of the bug, help Mama blow all the snow away and wish for Shoto to get better," Mom says softly.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath and blow, wishing for Shoto's cold to go away. Once you open your eyes, you see snow flurries and sparkles flying away, you watch with amazement, seeing the flurries Dad never lets you go out and see.
You see red out of the corner of your eye, you look over to your doorway seeing Dad approaching your door. You wonder why Shoto being sick has gotten either of your parents' attention, you would think it would get you less like usual. You fiddle your thumbs together as turquoise eyes look over you.
"Rei, get her ready for school," Dad says, his voice deep, almost unrecognizable to you from how little you hear it. But you smell the same cologne as always, the one that wafts around every morning.
"But-" Mom begins, quickly cut off by Dad speaking again.
"You made a good point about Shoto and y/n needing to be away from each other more. He has been asking about her all morning and is refusing to eat without her, and if her teachers aren't exaggerating about her refusal to speak, then something must be done." Dad says in a serious tone, his eyes narrowed, but not at you or Mom. He doesn't wait any longer and just walks away from your door.
Dad's words leave you wondering what they had been talking about. But hearing Dad acknowledge how overbearing Shoto is makes you feel a lot of things, glad it's not just in your head, upset at Dad for not understanding you, but also worried about how Dad will 'fix' the problem with Shoto's behavior.
Mom stands up and carries you over to your chair and plops you down, facing you away from the mirror. You can tell she doesn't seem to trust Dad that much, but you don't understand why, he said she was right and all, that usually makes people happy or at least calm. But Mom makes the same face Shoto does around the time Dad comes home and she is gripping the hairbrush unnecessarily tight.
Mom, despite her tight grip, gently brushes your long white hair from the ends to your roots to straighten out what sleeping had done to your soft curls. Every time you try to move your head to look at her, she gently rests her other hand on your hand until you stop moving.
"Have you been brushing your hair every day, honey?" Mom asks in a soft tone, looking down into your grey eyes.
You nod confidently. You smile at how Fuyumi always helps brush through and style your hair in the morning. And internally you roll your eyes at how Shoto always winds up touching your hair at bedtime when you and him brush teeth, so you always wind up brushing your hair at night to make sure his icky boy cooties don't knot up your hair.
Mom gives a small smile when she sees your nod and smile, but you can tell she seems a little sad or something. You look up at her with a serious look.
Mom's smile gets wider seeing your baby face get serious. She leans down and kisses your head. "Don't worry, darling. I just want to make sure you're being a good girl. Now go brush your teeth." Mom says in a sweet tone, smiling softly.
You stand up from your chair and walk out of your room, as you walk to the bathroom across the hall, you brush some hair off your nightgown, trying not to wonder too much into Mom's behavior
Part three
#my hero academia#yandere todoroki family#mha#enji todoroki#endeavor#rei todoroki#shoto todoroki#barberry and celandine thot-farm#yandere Todoroki family & fem reader
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Where the heck is Satan in Good Omens S2?
And could we perhaps find evidence of him in the places where the furniture used to be?
For reference:
Hastur & Ligur, 1.1: "All Hail Satan." "All Hail Satan."
Crowley, 1.5: "I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then… oh, lookie here, it's Lucifer and the guys."
Adam Young 1.6: "You're not my dad and you never were."
Satan, 1.6: "No, no, no!" (He promptly dissolves into black ash and vanishes. Immediately after, Aziraphale and Crowley look at their no-longer-flaming sword and tire iron as if not entirely sure why they're there.)
Crowley, 2.1: "Do you ever think, what's the point? ... Heaven, Hell, Demons, Angels?"
Crowley 2.2 (circa ~2000 BCE): "Satan and his diabolical ministers..."
Gabriel 2.3: "I remember when the morning stars sang together and all the angels of god shouted for joy.” (emphasis mine. Lucifer/Satan was the Morning Star. Why the heck is morning stars plural??)
Edit: Shax 2.6: “I demand that you hand over both Gabriel and Beelzebub as gifts for Satan, our master.” (Could debunk the whole theory, might not only because she seems pretty low-ranked and could be going through the motions even though he's gone, but we'll see. Including to get all the evidence down.)
... And I think there's some other S2 references to higher ups and "Our Lord" by Shax supposedly, but I'm too sleep-deprived to go combing through for them (I'd be much obliged if anyone else could grab any other exact quotes that mention Satan by name or seem to refer to him in Season 2.)
Let's first get the Doylist explanation for why Satan might not be around out of the way: Satan was the Big Bad of Season 1. He's been dispatched. Furthermore, he's played by the most likely very expensive Benedict Cumberbatch, so he's not likely to be back in a hurry if it at all can be avoided, and alluding to him at all might just create confusion with viewers who will then expect to see Satan.
(Below the cut: but what if there's more to it than that?)
But as others may have seen with the, "Metatron is actively editing the Book of Life in S2 and that's why things are weird," meta, there's quite a bit of speculation going around that something fucky is going on in S2.
However, while I agree that some points in S2 are certainly fucky I'm not convinced on all or even most of the supporting evidence. Most of the explanations have a Doylist counterpoint like "It's just bad writing," or "They just wanted to bring back some actors they enjoyed working with," or, "The film crew just made a mistake," or "They just forgot that bit of continuity." After all, half of the original writing duo is tragically no longer with us, so there's going to be some level of story drift regardless.
While in general I find the, "It's not that deep," explanation more plausible in most instances, I'd be a very poor disgruntled English Major indeed if I made sweeping claims that the wallpaper being blue is always a coincidence. It's muddier with TV because there's so many proverbial cooks in the kitchen and plenty of human error to go around, but I'd equally never claim that I think Good Omens S2 wasn't a labor of love by those who worked on it, and certainly there's evidence that care was taken in its production, so everything that's off being a mistake is also not a sweeping generalization I'd want to make either.
Which is my way of saying that I'm not convinced by the Metatron meta but I think some of the ideas there are on to something. I don't think it's plausible that a writer would in S3 reveal that in S2, the heretofore largely off-screen character of the Metatron was actively editing the story as we went with the heretofore only mentioned once, never seen, and immediately denounced as a joke Book of Life. BUT, there is some fucky stuff happening that I won't say was the result of some Genius Mastermind Writer deciding it was a good idea to actively write badly and provide stories with no payoff, but I will consider that some of the apparent continuity errors might not be so accidental as they seem, because this was a labor of love and at least on this count, I don't think that Neil was necessarily that careless. Or at least, I'm more inclined to look for clues in places where I can see logistical choices being made, rather than in more subjective claims like "This bad writing is meant to be Bad Writing and therefore a Clue." Because writing is hard even under the best of circumstances, especially in TV and having lost the aforementioned half of a beloved writing duo.
Moving on! Thing is, if we're to believe that there's some sort of mystery hidden in plain sight that was introduced in Season 2, then it did not pay off yet. This makes me a little suspicious of the overall claims that there was a hidden Season 2 mystery, because a good mystery really should pay off within the text, and expecting the reader to keep their unsatisfied suspicions in their heads for 3-4 years for a later satisfying conclusion is... optimistic at best and downright sloppy at worst.
Unless, the mystery spans the entire show. If the clues we're seeing are meant to pay off in S3, and we assume some level of competence, then more likely these are series spanning mysteries that will be satisfying when one is able to watch all three installments. And that means, if there is a mystery in S2, we should be checking back with Season 1 to look for the roots of it.
Which is what brings me to Satan.
What on Earth happened to Satan?
Is Satan still around?
Now, my theory would be much more satisfying to me, personally, if Satan's name was never spoken in S2 but alas, there is the Book of Job episode and I believe some other mentions by name, mostly by Shax? I'd love some backup on that. But I very deliberately don't count demons just saying things like, "Our lord" or making vague referrals to the powers that be to be references to Satan because if he's vanished, someone could have easily filled the power vacuum or there could be an empty throne room somewhere and everyone is just going through the motions (or he's become the Sandman Lucifer who fucked off to lie on a beach, which would be delightful. Anyway).
When Hastur and Ligure showed up in 1.1 they specifically said, "All Hail Satan," and Crowley was shown to be an outsider that he did not return this familiar call-and-response. Yet no one in Hell in S2 uses the All Hail Satan greeting. The references to Satan are few, even in Hell. There doesn't seem to be a lot of fear of Satan either, but more around other higher-ups like Beelzebub, Duke of Hell, who appears to be the highest ranking person we see in Hell?
And also interestingly, Crowley and Beelzebub are both lamenting how pointless all of this seems. Kind of interesting for two individuals who still despise Heaven too and, presumably, took Satan's side once long ago when they all Fell. The political fire has definitely gone out of them, which can be plausibly attributed to the Apocalypse failing and/or the two of them falling in love with their Angelic counterparts, but it's also just kind of weird that suddenly they both really don't see the point in any of these conflicts that once defined their existence.
Perhaps, and this is where I go out on a limb or ten, because Satan isn't around anymore?
Is there no longer a hand at the wheel in Hell, reminding everyone of their loathing of Heaven?
Is there no longer someone actively above Beelzebub, telling them what to do, such that they have the freedom to sneak away and pursue a romance with an archangel and not have their boss show up to stop them the way Gabriel's did?
Did Adam, when he made Satan not his father but more importantly that Satan never was his father, undo more than we realize?
Because that's the kind of Gaiman mystery that I can wholly believe is lurking in plain sight, because Satan was a big deal in S1, he was the Big Bad! It's in the text! The damned book series is built on the idea of a satirical Antichrist take on The Omen. All Hail Satan is one of the first spoken lines of dialogue in the book. Satan is kind of central to any story that's going to revolve around a battle between Heaven and Hell!
And yet... he's barely mentioned this season. And demons suddenly don't remember what they're fighting for. How odd.
Maggie and Nina's actresses also played nuns of the Satanic Chattering Order of St. Beryl. If there was no Antichrist, isn't it possible that neither of those women would have become Satanic nuns and might, instead, own a coffee shop and a record store somewhere?
If there was no Antichrist, isn't it possible that through some convoluted series of events, Madame Tracy, a witch, fell afoul of a demon or managed to become one herself?
Isn't it possible that once you open the door to the ripple effects of a Satan who either never existed (though the Fall still happened) or who only existed up until at least Job, but who was never Adam's father, that some other fucky things could happen too, like Aziraphale suddenly not being fond of alcohol? This continuity detail is much more of a stretch but it is such a plot point in the book that Aziraphale loves to drink and S1 that I do find that particular continuity break particularly vexing and it's one I side-eye the most in terms of "not sure if sloppiness or a Clue".
Anyway, point is:
Satan is curiously absent this season and technically, he was unmade or at least unmade as Adam's father last season. If something is fucking with the timeline, I think that on-screen, very visible event deserves some scrutiny over and beyond vaguely alluded to, off-screen fuckery by the Metatron with no in-text confirmation at all.
There's a lot of weird and bad writing in S2, sure, but some of the continuity breaks do, admittedly, feel too big to be simple oversights and I don't think it's entirely conspiratorial to think something more might be going on and if such a mystery is going to span multiple seasons, we should look back to S1 for the seeds.
It is possible that the unmaking of Satan has had ripple effects that explain some of these continuity changes and some of the cheeky casting of S1 actors in new roles as perhaps not entirely without in-story justification.
So in my mind, the question I have no answer to, but that might deserve some scrutiny going into Season 3 is:
How much did Satan never being Adam's father alter the timeline?
Edit: And here's one last spooky quote to consider: “I remember when the morning stars sang together and all the angels of god shouted for joy." - Gabriel's weird prophecy / quoting of God
Why single out the reference to morning stars plural? Lucifer is very famously the Morning Star, you can't accidentally allude to morning stars in this context without referring to him, you just can't. So what the fuck is going on with this Biblically sourced quote that sort of alludes to Satan, but not by name, and makes the reference to the Morning Star plural?? And even though it is the original text, apparently, it's still a choice by the writers to really highlight the line about morning stars and give that line to Gabriel to say in the present too. Something is sus.
#good omens#good omens spoilers#good omens meta#spoilers#IMO THIS is a hidden in plain sight mystery#because Satan is a MAJOR figure in the world of this story and he's just suddenly GONE#there's TOTALLY reasonable Doylist explanations#but at least if we're looking for where the furniture used to be then Where the Heck is Satan is a reasonable question
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
Are you feeling this too?
pairing: txt taehyun x f!reader
genre: os, au, fluff, smut
summary: when your attraction to him becomes unbearable and you fail to hide it, he has a surprise in store for you...
warnings under the cut!
warnings: beomgyu makes an appearance (but he's not part of the smut), friends-to-lovers, irony, tae is a bit of a know-it-all, they both have a thing for hands (quirofilia), they are veeeeery much down bad for eachother, cursing, mutual masturbation, handjob, thigh-riding, fingering, praising.
word count: 3,3k
notes: in case you haven't already noticed, I'm a big fan of friends-to-lovers 😋 this has been in my drafts for wayyy too long, I can't believe it's finally seeing the light! I kept editing it so many times because I was never satisfied enough (damn perfectionism), so I hope the final result is decent 😭 enjoy <;3
You two knew eachother for some years now and were the most comfortable with one another. You shared almost anything with no worries or embarrassment, as well as feeling a special kind of excitement everytime you had something you needed to talk about and knew the other was going to be there to listen without judgement.
Taehyun was a bit of a know-it-all sometimes and he loved to use that side of his personality especially to tease you, but that didn't stop him from validating your thoughts and feelings, however unrational they might be. And he found relief in you, who helped him to not think too rationally like he did most of the time. You balanced each other quite well, that's why you worked like a match made in heaven.
Same could have been said about your clingyness: you both needed your own space and individuality, but, when you felt like it, you were ready to cuddle the other until satisfied.
Neither of you could have predicted that this level of comfort would have extended even to sleeping together in the same bed though.
Lately, whenever you two hang out at night with your shared group of friends and you were too tired or drunk to go back to your apartment, as he was to accompany you, he started offering you to stay at his place, which was closer to the centre of the city. Not giving it much thought, you simply turned collapsing onto his mattress into an habit.
Last night was one of those nights: you checked out a new bar with your friends, the dishes were delicious, as well as the drinks, reason why it was easy to drink a bit more than usual.
"Looks like you'll come with me tonight as well" Taehyun stated, holding your waist to help you stand up. It was so unfair that he held his liquor so well and better than you.
As usual, Beomgyu teased you both about the situation: "At this point, I'm so sure they've been doing a lot more than just sleeping... when are you guys going to confess the truth to us, uh?"
"Shut up, Gyu" you mumbled annoyed.
"Let's go, he's just envious" Tae retorted, nodding to the group to greet them.
"I'm not envious! I'm not!" Beomgyu's shouted at your back, accompanied by the laughs of the others.
The last thing you remembered was slipping into the warm covers of Taehyun's bed, all clean up and ready to collapse and sleep for hours.
"Are you comfortable?" he made sure, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.
You groaned in affirmation, deeply inhaling his perfume that permeated the sheets, something that never failed to relax you.
"Goodnight then" he wished you.
"You too Tae" you grumbled before falling asleep, too tired to give any importance to the feeling of being stared at.
When you open your eyes on the half light of the bedroom the morning after, you rise your head to look at his soft sleeping face, following his features as if you were tracing them with your fingers. Honestly, it was also very much unfair how pretty he was and that you only got to look at him like that when he wasn't aware of it. You sigh softly and your gaze lands on his slightly parted lips.
The faint memory of the dream you had falls upon you all at once, making your cheeks flush. Did you really dreamed about fucking him? Again? And this time while you were sleeping in his bed, with him in it ? This was getting out of hand. How were you supposed to keep a straight face while looking at him now?
At first you kept telling yourself that having these type of thoughts about him was just caused by the curiosity that your friends' comments sparkled... but when you started to linger your gaze on him, feeling attracted to his body and the way he moved, until you fantasized of kissing and touching him, you understood that, no, it definitely wasn't just that at all.
You were terrified by the idea of ruining your precious friendship, of losing your best friend, just because of lust. Just the thought itself felt like losing oxygen. And yet you couldn't help your feelings that only kept on growing. What a cliché.
You try to get up without waking him up, moving slowly outside the covers, but the mattress betrays you, squeaking as you shift your weight. He stretches and blinks to adjust to the light, serene and unaware, while you freeze on the spot, still sitting on the mattress, blushing even more if possible.
When he looks at you he immediately notices: "Hey, are you okay? Do you have a fever?" He gets up quickly, worried. His raspy morning voice definitely wasn't of help.
"N-no, no, i'm fine" you manage to say.
To make sure he reaches out to touch your forehead anyway, causing a rush of chills running down your back. "Okay, you don't" he sights in relief.
"That's what I told you!"
"Why are you blushing this hard then?"
"It's nothing, it's just hot, I need a shower..." you want to get up and find refuge in the bathroom, but you can’t bring yourself to move. You feel your panties getting wet and instinctively push your legs closer together.
Shit.
He glances down at your sudden movement, understanding what was going on: "Oh, I see... you're horny" he smiles amused, "so, your plan was to get off in my shower?"
"I was just gonna take a cold shower!" Your heartbeat quickes at the thought of him imagining you touching yourself. You wonder if he has ever done it, but you immediately chase the thought away.
"Yeah, sure..." he mocks you, a playful smirk on his lips. "I am too right now, so... nothing to be embarrassed about"
"Wait- right now? Are you...?"
"Uhm, yeah, I'm hard right now" he frowns, confused by your surprise, "I was going to, you know, take care of it... while you're in the shower."
"W-well, now we can't do that."
"Why is that?"
Your eyes widened. Was he for real? Was he trying to act bold, pushing your buttons to see how you'd react?
"Do you seriously want to get off at the same time, in different rooms, while being aware of it?" You point out the obvious.
"Would you rather get off here? Together ?"
Was he joking or was he provoking you? And if the latter was true, why? Was he attracted to you as well? And if so, was he trying to find out how you felt about it? No, that couldn't be... those were just your delusional fantasies... right? You look away and blush even more if possible.
He registers your reaction and this time he fully blushes as well, thinking it's an affermative answer to his question: "Wait- seriously? Would you like that?"
This wasn't what you meant, but it wasn't wrong either: you do want that, him, with every fiber of your body.
You don't understand how he feels about it, what's behind his embarrassment and surprise, so maybe this is the time to address the elephant in the room once and for all and find out. You feel the panic growing quickly inside your chest as you say, "What if... what if I did?"
He looks you dead in the eyes and swallows.
Surely he's searching for the right words to reject you, to tell you that he wouldn't, that you are just a friend for him and that the way he's been staring at you is because of the affection he-
"I'd like that too" he admits. The cool and chill facade is crumbling before your eyes, piece by piece. "I... I fantasised about it. About you."
You can't believe what your ears have just heard. Is this happening for real or it's just a very vivid dream?
"You did?"
"Yeah... of course" he shakes his head, "I mean, I don't know, these days I feel very attracted to you so it just came naturally to imagine how it would feel... to do it with you" he looks down, the fiery red tips of his ears sticking out. Now that he's letting his vulnerability take over he's so cute. It's a pity that you don't get to see this side of him as often as you'd want to. You want to kiss him so bad.
"Has this happened to you?" He finally asks.
"Yeah..." you bite your lip out of anxiety "I am very attracted to you Tae... I've been for a while now and... recently it's been difficult to not mind it at all. Like, very difficult..."
"Fuck..." he lets out inadvertently.
"Yeah, exactly" you let out a nervous giggle and his eyes widens.
"Should we...?"
"Would you like that?"
"Damn if I'd like that. You? Would you?"
"Definitely, yes" you confirm.
Still a little uncertain and awkwardly, you both move closer to eachother, looking forward to the touch you've been craving all this time.
Your first kiss begins sweet and tender: your fingers run through his soft hair that you have always loved very much, while he's smiling on your lips and caressing your cheek.
When you give his tongue access to your mouth things get heated. He instinctively moves his hands to your waist to bring you closer, his fingers starts lingering over the bare skin of your back, just above the elastic of the sweatpants. When you release a soft moan and tug his hair, that drives him completely nuts: he's been dying to know what kind of sounds you make.
"Fuck, that was pretty. Do it again please."
"I need you closer... can I?" He nods eagerly while getting rid of the covers, you waste no time and sit on his lap. Feeling his hardening pushing against your core despite the fabric is heavenly, the string of moans escaping your lips prove it.
"You're music for the ears... whatever I've listened to until now can't even compare"
Your heart beats even faster at the compliment, threatening to burst out of your ribcage. How are you going to survive this? You're just getting started and you're both a mess already.
Your fingers run to the hem of his shirt, removing it to reveal his beautiful toned body for you to explore like you've been craving to do. You trace the muscles of his shoulders and arms he's so proud of have been enhancing, and leave sloppy kisses all over his chest.
"Are we really doing this?" His breathing is hard and irregular.
"Do you want to stop? Cause we can, anytime" you raise up to look into his eyes in search of any proof of doubt.
"No, I just can't believe it's happening" His soft smile contrasts with his lust-filled gaze. "Do you?"
"Not at all."
You start moving your hips slowly against his, making him let out a groan of pleasure. When you fasten your movements he throws his head back. "God, y/n..."
"Tell me what you imagined me doing to you"
"No, but-"
"What? Did I do something wrong?" You stop in your tracks.
"No, fuck no, this is great" he reassures you, "it's just that- I should take care of you first, you're the one that-"
"But you are going to, silly. Now answer my question."
"I..." he looks down where your bodies are closer, then reaches for your hand and kisses each knuckle tenderly. You hold your breath as butterflies invade your stomach. "I thought about your pretty hands around me"
You move to stroke the bulge covered by his underwear a couple times and watch him struggle to hold back his own moans, before getting rid of it. You stop for a moment to take in what your eyes are seeing: he has a nice shape and length, you can't wait to discover how he feels.
Meanwhile, he begins to worry about you being disappointed or regretting your decision: "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I just never saw you like this and wanted to take a proper look at you... you're pretty, you know?"
Surprised and pleased, he lets out an "oh" that turns into a loud moan when you start palming him.
"Does it feel good?" Your chest is filling with pride.
He's already humming approvingly and instinctively bucks his hips into your hand. "You're so good..."
"As good as you imagined?" You tease him.
"Not even close... so much better"
You really need some contact as well and you squirm over him.
"Use my thigh" he proposes, gripping your hips. Loving the idea, you shift to have his left thigh between your legs and start rubbing your pelvis. His muscles flexe beneath you and the fabric creates an amazing friction.
You stroke his skin faster, circling the tip with your thumb, resulting in him bringing an hand over his face: "Shit, I'm close already..." he mumbles.
"It's okay, come for me" your voice sweet like honey, "I want to see your lovely face though..." and you gently take his hand away, locking eyes with him just in time before thick, white ropes start covering his stomach. His face contorts in pleasure and only groans leave his lips, that are eager and desperate when they take yours in a rough kiss.
"That was... way too good" he sighs, "I'm sorry I didn't last long..."
"Don't say that", you reach for the tissue box on his nightstand, "you were so excited of having my hands all over you, it was so hot." You lick your lips, passing him the tissues to clean himself up.
"It's your turn now" he moves closer to your ear and starts leaving a trail of pecks down your jaw. "What did you imagine?"
"I- uhm... well... I'm actually in this state because I- I did have a wet dream tonight..." You look away, your cheeks are burning again.
"Oh, you did?" You recognise from his tone that a smug smile is certainly tracing his lips, "Was I involved?"
You nod, finally revealing where this all thing started. "You were playing with my boobs..."
"Was I?" He starts rubbing your nipples through the thin fabric of the shirt, making you whimper.
"God, I love the sounds you make too much." He frees you from it and admires your body like you did before with him. "You... your shapes..." he starts kissing and massaging your breasts, "...are so gorgeous..."
You look at him working your skin and intertwine your fingers with his locks once again, pulling a little everytime he licks the right place the right way.
"And then you went down..." you continue to guide him.
"Of course" he starts kissing your stomach, slowly descending.
It was taking too long and you couldn't take it anymore. "I seriously need you between my legs. Right now." You rush him.
"How exactly do you need me?" He looks up at you and that's so hot of him, you swear you could pass out.
"Your fingers..."
"Seems like we both have a thing for hands, uh?" He lets out a giggle detaching his lips from your skin. He guides you to lay down before removing your thin sweatpants. The darkened spot in your panties is so wide now, his fingers linger over the damp cotton.
"Stop teasing..." you complain.
"You're right, you had to wait this long to take care of me..." he finally gets rid of the only piece of clothing left and takes a look at you, mesmerised. His fingers runs through your folds, his digits circle your opening. "How are you so pretty?"
The first finger enters you easily, shortly followed by the second one. You gasp for air when he curls them, the sensation of finally having him inside of you burning in your chest, waves of pleasure crossing your body. As soon as he starts pounding, you buck your hips to get him as deep as possible.
"Look at you... this is so much better than anything I could ever imagine." Feeling how warm and tight you were around him was simply delicious.
"Faster, please..." you ask gripping the sheets and he immediately begins to thrust with more vigour, his other hand on your knee to keep your legs open.
You start clenching around him and feel your clit pumping looking for some attention as well, thus you reach for it, rubbing your digits in a circular motion.
"God, you're so hot like this" he grunts while your juices drip into his palm, "I can't believe I'm watching you touching yourself for real."
You slightly lean forward to get a better view of his veiny hand and your mouth goes agape. You've always been enamored with his hands, seizing the opportunity everytime you two felt cuddly to caress and play with them, but this... this was a whole another level.
"Tae, fuck, I'm almost there, keep going"
"Whenever you want baby, let yourself go" he breathes out, making a last effort to keep his pace steady.
You feel your orgasm exploding in your chest and spreading all over your body, leaving behind a prolonged moan to delight him.
He's out of breath, his fingers slowly slip out of you and he waits for you to look at him again.
You're panting but you get up and smile at him: "Okay, now explain how are you so great? You definitely rank number one for fingering."
"Thanks for confirming the suspicions I had about my abilities." He says gaining a roll of eyes from you.
His digits still shine with your juices so you lean close enough to lick them clean, surprising him.
"I'm going to grow a boner again at this rate"
"I wouldn't mind it" you run your fingers on his chest and bring him closer to you.
He tucks some tufts of hair behind your ears and scans your face, focusing on every little detail. In this moment you are both asking yourself the same question: is it just lust or there's something else you're both feeling for eachother?
When you indulged in imagining the two of you confessing, you definitely didn't picture this situation as one of the possible scenarios. Yet, here you are. "What do we do now?" you break the silence.
"I think the most logical thing to do is to not panic and see where this takes us."
"That's such a 'you' response" you wrinkle your nose, and the word 'cute' invades his mind.
"Am I wrong though?"
"Ah, you're so annoying" you snort, not wanting to give him the pleasure of agreeing with him, and lay down.
"I know you know I am" he lays on top of you, crossing his arms over your stomach and resting his chin there. "What do you suggest?"
"We've been friends for years now, right?" you start playing with his hair, "many of our friends have been teasing us about how similar to a couple we look, considering how comfortable we are with eachother..."
"The affection was already there"
"Exactly" you nod, "and now attraction joined..."
"In conclusion, you think we are in love already, even if we don't think so yet"
You're taken aback by his response, especially because of the use of the words "in love", but yes, that was what you were aiming for. "Maybe? We should find out."
He giggles, "you just explained what I meant earlier."
"God, I hate you" You let out frustrated, covering your face with your hands to hide the big smile that's actually painting it.
"No, you don't" he gets closer and removes them.
"I truly don't" you admit, moving your eyes to his lips and viceversa.
"Good, because me neither." He's still holding your hands when he kisses you slowly and softly, in a way too romantic manner for you to still be "just friends".
"When he will find out, Beomgyu is never going to let this down."
"Shhh don't make me think about it yet!" You frown, before joining his laugh.
#txt smut#taehyun smut#tomorrow x together smut#txt fanfic#taehyun x reader#txt fluff#taehyun fluff#tomorrow x together fluff#kang taehyun smut#kang taehyun fluff#txt x reader#one shot#bunnywrites!!
992 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here's a writeup about the process of making this 12x18" poster that's in the booksamillion special edition of TAZ: the Eleventh Hour GN! It looks like there are still some available for preorder!
Long post about how I got from the initial options I sent to my editor to the final below the cut (or unlocked on my patreon here).
We found out pretty late in the life cycle of making the actual book artwork that we were going to get to do a special edition that included a poster, which was nice because it meant I had a good sense of what cool moments in the book we might want to highlight... and what existing art I might be able to use as scaffolding, because these books are on extremely tight deadlines and there was not a separate timeline for painting a whole poster. So when we can avoid doing that, it saves me a lot of time and heart/wristache... but it's not always possible! spoilers: it was not possible this time around.
I started out by sending my editor two options for poster designs: one that would save some work by letting me reuse cover & interior elements that happened to be drawn at a large size, and one that was loosely based on a page with a fun splash panel, but would require total redraw and repaint. As I said in an email,
...Unfortunately, we both agreed that the one that was going to be more work (A) was the cooler choice & would make for a better poster. Also, by this point I was thinking about doing a version of the cover for a lenticular, and I didn't want to double-dip with fun promo materials. So it goes!
The composition was off, since this was based on a comics page with, y'know, dialog and other panels on it. We talked about whether adding some kind of a text treatment might help balance it out, but ultimately,
[narrator: she would later regret this.]
ANYWAY, once I was all-in, it was time to get goin! First, I made a small color thumbnail, then scaled it WAY up for print and took it back to pencils to space out the trio & give everyone a little more room.
Next I inked and flatted it! Flatting is the only time I can really zone out & watch something while I work, it was a nice break.
Then I blocked in big hue shifts for the ground and sky; painted big shadow shapes, and drew in the text; and finally added some details like bounce light and atmospheric perspective blue shifts.
One final touch-up pass with some additional cool tones-- If I were to do this again, I might tone it down a LITTLE bit on the reflections on Magnus's gear… but then again, it looks cool, so I might not.
And there it is!
Next time I do this, I want to try to keep the initial color thumbnail much looser- I got frustrated at the rendering stage because I'd done most of the fun work of thinking about color already, and ended up feeling like I was treading the same ground twice. It's tough to find a balance between enough planning to be ready and not so much that I lose something in the work!
I'm always happy to get process questions over on patreon, it's fun to talk more about this sort of thing!
317 notes
·
View notes
Text
Writing advice(hopefully)
I TAKE EVERYTHING BACK I SAID I DO HAVE A METHOD TO WRITING. I JUST DIDN'T REALIZE IT WAS A METHOD BECAUSE I'VE DONE IT FOR SO LONG.
advice under cut
Before you write something, flesh the ENTIRE thing out. I don't mean like kinda do a couple word summary, I mean write the basics before you write how the basics go together. You want to write about a picnic? Flesh out things they might say during it, what their bringing, who's making the food, etc etc.
Examples from my own writing doc for my most recent posted fic->
As you can see, it's long, and tells me most of what I need. It's also not organized, and many things are misspelled or grammatically incorrect. This is because my main goal was to get a basic plan out, not to make it look pretty. I also had three slightly different ideas I could go with before deciding on which I wanted. The more you have down, the easier it will be. I also color code mine, but that's not necessary, it's just ease of use. I can explain my color coding if needed, but I won't until asked.
2. Write in chunks. Do you have that really specific scenario already planned out? Write it first. You can make the rest around it, but once you get at least that small bit out, the rest can come naturally.
3. Keep yourself occupied. I get bored easily if I'm just writing, so I have to be doing other things at the same time. Just make sure it's something simple so you don't get distracted. I personally use my cat as to keep my stimulated(?) enough to continue. You could mimic something like this by putting on music/shows in the background, or writing multiple fics at once.
4. Don't force yourself if you can. I know I said I do earlier, but that was mostly a joke. I write to deal with stress, so writing in itself calms me down. It's difficult to do something if I'm not perfectly in tune with it. If a request is proving to be difficult, or an idea isn't doin what you want, change it up a bit until it fits into the puzzle better. You'd rather have a changed fic than no fic.
5. Use prompt generators for ideas if you're stuck. I personally have a big tin of cookie fortunes and verbs/nouns so I pick two up and create a story around that. It helps get your brain going. And you can keep doing this until something sparks.
6. Stay as focused as you can. Close other tabs, keep your eyes on your writing, stuff like that. I know this may seem to conflict with the 'keeping yourself occupied' one, but you really have to find the right balance for you. For example, I can't have music playing, but I CAN talk to other people while I write. Play around until you find your zone.
7. Try not to edit as you go. It's okay to fix a word or two as needed, but once something takes over 5 minutes to fix, you should skip it and move on. Your main goal should be able to get it all down so you have something to edit eventually.
8. If you forget a word, don't dwell on it too much. Just put something as a safeholder(ie: Elephant, Jumanji, etc), highlight it, and move on. You can shoot a friend a text to help find the word, but don't stress if nothing matches what you're thinking of. You can figure it out after, or find a new word.
9. If you get stuck while writing, go back about three to five sentences and read it over. See if you can continue going, or find what you need to change. It doesn't have to be a huge change, it just has to be enough to get you going again. And if you can't figure it out? Skip it and write the rest and figure out the transition later.
10. Use references throughout you're writing. Whether it's on the world, injuries, dialogue, emotion portrayal, or anything in between, do research and find references. It can help make connections in your brain as well as make it easier to write. For many fanfics, if you look up the fandom's wiki, their personalities will be included in their character's article.
I think that's it for now, I might add more later. I really hope this make an inkling of sense, I got frustrated after Tumblr deleted half of what I wrote the first time around. Apologies for the rambles, I am neither good with words, neither with explaining myself in a coherent manner. If anyone needs/wants extra clarification, don't be shy to ask. And my sincerest apologies for not saying this in a reblog @itsyagurlchip, but it was starting to get long and I hate how you can't collapse reblogs so I put it here. If you need me to, I can copypaste and put it as a reblog.
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tweels hc doodles + notes!
Goodness me, I've not been working on these for very long but here's all of what I've thought of within 2 days of thinking about them!! I basically started writing about them the moment I finished drawing "the fuck you brothers" post (9/24) (and today, 9/26) I totally have been thinking about them more after I wrote all this, so I will be continuing on with my hcs right here, under the cut :3 (keep in mind I have not yet played twst! If I get anything gravely wrong correct me!) (9/28, edit: I downloaded twst y'all...)
Both of the twins are autistic, just being on very different ends of er... intensity? Idk how to word that. I just mean that Floyd is someone who has trouble regulating his emotions and stims a lot. Jade doesn't stim as often, he probably would if he were infodumping about mushrooms/his terrariums or whatever else. I think I mean. That Jade suppressed his autistic tendencies by a lot to seem more like a gentleman, while Floyd doesn't really give much of a shit and probably doesn't even know he's autistic.
on that note they both have ADHD. AuDHD brothers.
Anyways as I way saying abt Floyd stimmies; He stims a LOT. Just, all the damn time. It gets so annoying for a lot of people and everyone knows he can't control it. His clingyness is also stimming, he's very touchy. A lot of stim toys don't actually help him but he does calm down significantly more when he's wearing headphones and listening to loud music. That's what stimulates him the most.
Jade only stims when excited, yeah I mentioned that. But did I mention he also stims a lot when stressed. In front of costumers, if he was stressed he might only fiddle with his fingers behind his back. But as soon as he gets away it's full body stimming time baby. Mans is not okay but he cannot let that mask slip!! (I forgot the word before, but I meant to say in my first dotpoint that jade is better at masking than Floyd!!)
Floyd mcr liker >_< (songs about depression and drugs to think about violence to!) Floyd also likes shit like "41 mins of roblox music" or any spongebob music. skull emoji.
Jade Laufey liker :33 (calm songs to think about violence to!)
Floyd likes dancing around in his room to music. Like really getting into it. Putting one song on loop and doing the same dance moves over and over again. (stimming) (oh my god I'm PROJECTING AGAIN stop....)
Jade likes drawing mushrooms. He's really good at drawing nature and when I say "good" I mean if you looked at it, you'd think it was a picture. Like abnormally good for someone who used to not even have paper available...
I saw this from a moot once on twitter I think, but they both (+ Azul) probably had a hard time adjusting to walking around everywhere instead of swimming when they first came onto land. And I think there was something about holding on to bars on stairs WAYY too tight because they feel so wobbly going up them. Same with like, escalators? and elevators? didn't fucking trust them. And they still don't sometimes... Adding onto this I think that they'd both get really frustrated at first with it. Like genuinely really upset; Floyd dramatically falling to the floor and flailing around on the verge of tears while Jade punches the ground over and over... They obviously got better at land things after a long while but for a bit they were just so. not okay LOL
I think for casual/home clothes they'd both be really into big fluffy jumpers. massive fucking huge fluffy shits. They'd be all over the texture and it would be so so texture /pos drooling emoji
I had a little thing that I thought of where I would give Floyd Heart shaped eye shines PLUS an extra smaller not heart eye shine. And giving Jade a square shaped shine with no extra shines. It just makes so much sense to me. Like I can't explain it very well but if you get it, you get me. Do you get me...
WHICH leads me to say then that when Floyd gets MAD he would have NO eye shines. Do you get me. I totally make sense right/. And Jade getting happy about anything even if it doesn't show on his face it would totally show in his eyes... Which also brings me back to something I wrote in my doodle notes with the pupils being like cats... OUGH I'M GOING INSANE DO I MAKE SENSE
another thing my twt moot said !! Floyd would hate necklaces/rings/other accessories and jewelry! It relates back to my point about Floyd hating the feeling of tight clothes, and things touching his skin too much. I feel like if he had say, a necklace on for like 0.1s he would rip it the fuck off, destroying the necklace in the process
Floyd: :3 (aggressive)
Floyd loving to squeeze people but hurting them is 90% of the time on purpose hurting and 10% accidental hurting and when it IS accidental he gets so upset about it. I like to think Floyd is the more emotional out of the two... just so many emotions in that boy. like he just !! wants to give you love !!! but he's so strong he breaks ur ribs !!!! many of ur ribs!! ur honestly surprised you haven't punctured a lung yet!!!
On that note they BOTH are extremely touch starved. Floyd would fucking LOVE it if someone were to lay down on top of him for hours he would feel so squished!! and warm and nice!! and comfy!
Jade on the other hand, LOVES holding hands. holding ONTO something holding onto someONE.
Jade is a gift giver (love language) I bet you can't guess what Floyd is
His love language is Physical touch. Yeah
Jade getting people way too many gifts when it's a special occasion for them because he thinks they might think it's weird if he gets them a gift on any other day.
Floyd hyperpop liker (just overall really likes loud thrashy music or whatever)
Floyd also really got into those games where you have to beat the shit out of a dummy. He doesn't like ones where you have to TIME a hit to make it work (makes him annoyed bc he can't do it) Games like Pou I think....
While Jade enjoys colour by number or those hue games? just doing it in his free time.
#Please be autistic about them with me#Share your own hcs with me in comments/reblogs and if I like them I might add them#sorry guys I really like spreading the autism illness to all my faves#that's why I keep talking about how tismy they are to me#hope you don't mind#teehee#digital art#art#disney twst#twst fanart#twst hcs#twst#jade leech#floyd leech#leech twins#tweels#hcs#neurodivergent#disney twisted wonderland
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alright! Tonight, I read chapters 14-16 of Trigun! I think I'm a little bit behind the bookclub schedule by this point, but my Trimax Deluxe edition hasn't come yet, so I'm gonna continue to work my way through it!
Thoughts are long with time, so I'm placing them under a cut! Warnings for mentions of gore/violence and implied/alluded abuse (though we haven't quite gotten there in canon yet).
I got lots of thoughts on this one! We see the first of the Gung-ho Guns, Monev! His story is kind of interesting, but he and E.G. the Mine might be a little cooler/more interesting in Tristamp rekngjrkeng I do love! The Diablo moment, though, which we do not get in Tristamp! It really highlights how much Vash cares, how easily he's angered--of course he's going to be angry, seeing a bunch of innocent people hurt or killed because someone was coming after him. Gouging out Monev's eye... Man. And then that moment where he's so angry he's really, really thinking about killing Monev, and he just remembers Rem, and. Ho boy, I can definitely relate to that moment where all that anger turns to guilt and sorrow, when you feel like you don't have the right to be angry over something. All that emotion's gotta go somewhere! And man, watching Vash just break down hugging his gun to his chest really, really hit home ;~; (I also loved the detail that even walking away from Monev, Vash's finger never left the trigger--just in case.)
E.G. the Mine kind of went down laughably quick lol. I wonder if Legato just nabbed him because he wanted a round number. I do love the moment at the end where Vash shoots at Legato and says he's taking over the game, and that Legato needs to play by his rules now, namely not killing the Gung-ho Guns after they've failed/run away like they did with Monev. Very cool move, very Vash!
Also!!! Back to the Monev parts, I loved. The little Merylmilly moments, of Meryl trying to step into the fight and help Vash, of getting knocked out and then Milly running to her to cradle her in her arms. Very cute moment ;~; Their concern for Vash was already so palpable, and I really loved the scene where they meet Vash in his room after the fight and get the first look at his scars. It really highlights the price of his ideals, that saving people isn't easy and sparing his opponents isn't something he does lightly. He's aware of the cost, and he's accepted it. I also thought Meryl's reassurance that his appearance wouldn't run ladies off was really cute ;~;
And! I think this our first Knives appearance, as well? Man, what a menacing introduction. We still haven't so much as seen his face, he's just a looming figure in Vash's memories, and so far, he's only been associated with bad ones--even that soft moment with Rem, Vash states, "It's just you and me." Knives is noticeably absent and not brought up during Vash's happy memories, but we do know they were close once. I do think it highlights how much Vash doesn't want to remember or think about Knives, all the bad memories and trauma wrapped up in him--the fact he was responsible for Rem's death, for attempting to wipe humanity out, and for all the horrible things Knives is about to do to Vash we haven't seen yet.
I did also like the moment where Knives admits Rem got him, correcting the course of the ships so they wouldn't wipe out all the sleeping humans when they crashed/landed. That was a neat moment!
Really having fun with the re-read!! Might be a bit before my next post, though, since I'll be busy next week.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
En Del Av Dig thoughts! (spoiler notes will be below the cut)
4/5 stars from me. I enjoyed it quite a bit, but some of the pacing could have been better.
- holy fucking shit Felicia is amazing. I’ve been a fan of her for a long time, I watched Heartbeats, I watched Avgrunden, I’ve obviously watched Royals, but this is next level. Her acting is incredible. It’s the kind of acting that makes you have a visceral reaction. The emotional moments made me take pause and her little micro expressions through the whole movie were so amazing. I don’t know how to describe how difficult it is to act like you’re acting, but she did it seamlessly.
- ZARA LARSSON CAN ACT. I’m gonna be honest, when I saw they cast her, especially for such a vital role, I didn’t know how it was gonna work out. It worked out amazing. She is a triple threat, my friends. Another performance that gave me a visceral reaction. THE LAYERS OF HER CHARACTER YALL
- Zara and Felicia together was otherworldly. They played so well off each other and the way they were able to act together and look alike in their mannerisms made me have to pause and second guess which one of them was about to be on screen more than once.
- the real main character was blue eyeshadow
- every song i've heard in the last 24 hours can be an En del av dig edit song if I try hard enough.
Spoilers:
- The fight between Agnes and Noel was insane. Incredible and visceral and I won't stop thinking about it for a long long time. "What, you can't sleep with me if I remind you of her?" and "Do you want me to say she's coming back? She's not. She's dead, Agnes. She's fucking dead." HOLY SHIT.
- Julia was surprisingly deep. Her struggles coming out in the last half hour was wild, but I wish they would have spent more time on it instead of just "oh she might have killed herself on purpose maybe"
- I simply could not take the green contacts seriously. I love Edvin but he looked like a cullen wannabe in that one scene.
- If there's one thing I'll fall for every single time, it's the gay pining best friend trope.
- Actually started screaming "BREATHE. YOU NEED TO COME UP FOR AIR, KIDS" and I choose not to elaborate. iykyk
- I'm really glad that they established that Agnes was into Noel before Julia died. It makes you root for them a little more, knowing there was something there before they lost Julia. They were already playful with each other, Anges was already down bad, and Noel already felt protective over her.
- That however does not excuse the next point which is: I need a full psychological study on Noel because what the hell? Sir? Not one of those decisions was correct. We cannot sister hop after one dies, we cannot leave after sex because of our own poor decisions coming back to haunt us, we cannot undo all the poor decisions by showing up with a single flower. SIR-
- Felicia's acting in the scenes between Agnes and her mother was incredible and, once again, something I will be thinking about for a long time.
- The play and Agnes' monologue tying in throughout the story was really beautiful and even though you could see it coming, it was a really impactful ending.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Queen Fanclub Convention 2023 Part 2: Sue Johnstone
I have returned! Following my first post on the Queen Fanclub Convention 2023 I will be posting a series of transcripts and insights from the guest panels and other experiences!
The first guest is Sue Johnstone who was Roger's friend from back in Cornwall and also started the Fanclub in its days of infancy. I know a lot of you will be skipping the Long Transcript so I'll put up some bits of interesting stories that should be highlighted up here! Many of these were also told in Queen in Cornwall in some form or another.
Highlights:
The Queen fanclub in the early days was run from the Kensington Market stall. Brian was the most enthusiastic about it and insisted that all letter responses for the fans are handwritten and personalized.
Back in Cornwall when Sue in a singing group for the church, Roger and the church school boys used to sit and wave from the balcony and sent down paper planes, making them laugh while they were singing.
Freddie once stayed overnight at Sue's house after a party. The next morning, Sue's father went upstairs and was baffled to find him curling his hair. At some point he also saw him doing his yoga up against the wall upside down.
Once after a Smile performance in Cornwall, Sue and the band (with Freddie) walked along the headland overlooking the sea where Brian could name all the stars. They also went into a cave where they sang echoing harmonies of the song Earth.
Sue still keeps in touch with Brian and Roger. Her conversation with Brian includes knee replacements and congratulating him on becoming Sir. Roger likes to steal cigarettes even when she sees him now these days.
The last time she saw Freddie was at Queen's 20th anniversary party. She brought us a picture (on top of page) of her, Freddie, and her sister Pat from that day - a really touching moment. (📸 shared by David Taylor)
One of my favourite things about the con was that the panel guests were so kind and down to earth. After their talk on the stage they sat on the table among the audience to drink and chat, which was so lovely. When it was all wrapped I wanted to say hi to Sue and she was so nice about it! (It took me a long time to brave up and come up to her after she finished chatting with everyone, and it was my friend Rob who convinced me to actually do it, so thank you Rob!) I got a selfie with her and she signed my programme! (click to enlarge).
Transcript is under the cut below. I used the help of an auto transcription service and edited it manually afterwards, which took so much more time than expected as I had to check my references. Pictures are sourced from the Fanclub and Rupert White / Queen in Cornwall.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so there are parts that I marked as "indistinct" and the accuracy may not be 100%. This wouldn't be their fault for not pronouncing it clearly, it would be mine for not catching it properly. There were words that I tried to guess based on context, marked with (?) at the end. I also tried my best to cross-check with other sources to ensure accuracy (in this case mostly Queen in Cornwall).
Enjoy!
Jim Jenkins (J): So, our first guest today is somebody that started all this off. 50 years ago, two friends of Roger’s, from Truro, Pat and Sue Johnstone, were asked by the band, or that's what we heard, to form a fanclub. It is my great pleasure to say we have one of those two sisters with us today.
It's really great to welcome, Sue Johnstone! So Sue’s come up and gonna talk to us, we're going to try and open a memory bubble. This is an event from 50 years ago. So I'll let Sue say hello to you all.
Sue Johnstone (S): Hello everyone, thank you so much for coming. This is the best time. It's so good to be here.
J: I'm going to start off with the first question for Sue. You started the Queen Fanclub nearly 50 years ago, in 1974.
S: Yup.
J: Did you ever think it would still be in existence in 2023?
S: I did not. I thought the band might be huge, but I was convinced they would be, but I don't, I didn’t think the fanclub would be. Although having said that, we had a lot of fans very quickly. As soon as the band had gone to Japan and so on, it really opened up. So we knew we were onto something special, and we had to set it up properly. Because we were doing it in the stall in Kensington Market, just handwriting everything, you know. And Brian insisted on that. It was Brian, really, that started the fanclub, he wanted it more than the others, really. And he used to come by and check all the letters, make sure we were actually handwriting them, you know. And doing as he wanted to do, keeping it as personal as possible. Which I think has paid off, you know, it's just brilliant. So, yeah. But longevity, no. I don't think we thought about next day, let alone 50 years.
J: It is really good. Okay, I want to take you back to the ‘60s. Back to Cornwall. You were a member of the Jayfolk band?
S: Yeah, absolutely.
J: Did you always want to be in music?
S: Well, I met Jill Johnson and her twin sisters at church, actually. I mean, I was one of four. I've got an elder brother, who's the oldest in the family, another sister, and then there was Pat and there was me. But by the time I came along, they just want to be out on a Sunday, so I had to go to church, you know, a lot. But we also joined the youth club, and it was just actually quite a good place to go. And the church school boys all came there because they were a Methodist school, and this was a Methodist church.
So they all sit in the balcony, and Jillian and I, and the twins, we do four-part harmony, (indistinct), every Sunday, you know. So that's how it started. I started singing with Jillian, and we were all Johnsons – I'm Johnstone, but they were Jillian, Janet, and Jennifer Johnson. So we called ourselves the Jayfolk. But Roger would always be in the balcony, and he used to send paper planes down to us (laughter) and be waving and making us laugh while we were singing, you know. I loved it, and I loved singing, and I loved harmonies, which is why I loved Queen. Their harmonies were superb.
J: So was Roger going out with Jill Johnson?
S: Not at that time, no, that came, it was about ‘65 I think? We went to a folk club, which was actually a guy called Dave Dowding, who was Roger's friend, his parents owned a farm, it was beautiful. In Kenwyn, in Truro, and you had to walk to get there, you know, all the way, and there was a large farm, and the folk scene was just starting up. My sister was into it, because she was five years older, I was the youngest, I'm the youngest out with Roger and everybody in fact, so I was about 13 or 14 at this time. And we went to the folk club, and Roger and Mike (Dudley) actually, who played the guitar on The Reaction, they were on bales of hay, everybody sat on bales of hay.
And yeah, we just got along, we started chatting, and then Jill and I had to get up to sing with her sisters, we did our set and that was it, Roger gave us a lift home – or someone did, I think it was him. And then Roger and Jill got together, they went to a fair in Truro, and they were together four years, but they always said there was three of them, it was always Roger, Jill and me. (laughter) Bit embarrassing, but yeah, Jill remembers it as being the three of us, you know.
J: Did you go to see The Reaction?
S: Oh yeah. They were great, yeah. And Roger was becoming, you know, he knew he was going to be a musician anyway, a good one. He just knew it. He was so into everything, he was into music, we all were actually. But I've had a bit of a mixed thing because pap was into jazz and then into folk, but mostly jazz. And my brother was in a skiffle group. My sister just had boyfriends, really, my eldest sister, but she wasn't that musical. But the rest of us were.
And my father was a piano player. He played piano accordion in a band when he was younger. And then we always had a piano in the house, we all wrote. And Dad did a little fumbling, you know, sort of... (imitates thrums on a piano) to the point where once when Freddie and Brian stayed, we all had a party at our house. And yeah, Roger and... not Roger – Freddie and Dad came together in the piano. It was brilliant. Brian on guitar. I was in another band then called Wizard, and there was a (indistinct) guitarist, he was there. And I remember we were all eating oysters, which he bought. And then we all sang, it was great.
But my father saw that, and he loved them, actually. He really liked the guys, you know. But he did come down one morning afterwards, and I think I've told you this before, and he said, “I've seen everything now!” And I said, “What's the matter, Dad?” He said, “He's up there curling his hair!” (laughter) “Is that so?” “I thought he was straightening it! I’ve seen it all now!” he said. And then Pat said Dad had gone upstairs as well, and Freddie was up, you know, doing his yoga up against the wall upside down. I mean, it was a bit much for my father, really.
But later on, when it was my 21st in London, they all came. We were living with a couple of Buddhists, actually, down in six couple of all places, they're working in Kensington Market. And we used to get a train from the market after the Greyhound pub, you know, and we'd fall asleep and end up wherever, you know. But we had a party there for my 21st, and the band all came on the train, and it was hilarious. Freddie and his, you know, cat and everything, (indistinct) it was so good. And they all stayed on this floor overnight with my Dad in the middle. (laughter) And he was like, “I don't think I'll be coming up again, my love.” (laughter) But no, we had some fun. They were lovely, though. They were all such nice people, you know. That made all the difference. They were so sweet, you know.
J: So Roger left Truro and went to London, and then you and Pat decided to move up to London.
S: Yeah, well...
J: No, Pat went first?
S: Pat moved to London already beforehand as a nanny, through a family in Ealing, and she lived up there a couple of years. We also had family in Paddington, my dad's brother, my cousins. So we used to go to London a lot. My father was a big fan of people like Tommy Cooper, and we used to go out and see shows. So I was familiar with London, but I didn't live there, but Pat had lived there, but came home when my mum got ill and stayed. So she gave up her job then. But after mum passed away, then Pat stayed a bit longer, but, you know, she was five years older, she needed to get up to – I just couldn't leave. Jillian had already left, but Jayfolk had broken up. Jill had joined The Famous Jug Band. She wanted me to go up to London with her, but I'd said no. And because of that, actually, we fell out. We didn't speak for 20 years. But she joined the band, and then she went to live in California.
But it was Roger that got us back together. He got her number and gave it to me. And it was Roger that kept in touch with me. He used to come back from London, always came to see me straight away. We'd go out for a drink or something. And he said, “Oh you've got to come up. You must come up. And we'll look after you. Don't worry about a thing. You'll be fine.” And so I did eventually. And it was Pete Bawden who ran PJ’s, the club, and my dad that drove me up.
And within 24 hours, Roger took me into Kensington Market, introduced me to everybody. And then upstairs, there was an employment agency. I got the employment. So I went up. He came with me. We went up and they asked me if I could type or what qualifications I had. And I said, “Oh, no problem, you know, anything you like.” I was thinking, (grumbles) “I don't just type at all.” And unfortunately for me, they gave me a test there and then, which was sort of (indistinct), and I was like this, (mimics funny typing) you know, not knowing what I was doing. And they said, “That was the funniest thing we've ever seen.” (laughter) “And the bravest.” They said to me, “We need a receptionist. Would you like to do it?” (laughter) So I ended up working as receptionist upstairs from the market. And eventually I got to know Hazel and Gaby, and worked for them in their store for years, actually. Just where the fanclub started in their store.
J: What were your impressions of the band when you first met, Brian, Roger – well not Roger because you know like, well Brian and Freddie?
S: They were kind, they were lovely, Brian was just so kind, and so caring, and lovely, lovely guy, and Freddie was Freddie, he just bowled you over, but he was also one of the sweetest kindest people I think I've ever met, he was wonderful, but later on when they became Queen I could understand why, because they literally acted like the Queen, because they had no money, ever, in their pockets. So they loved going out with Pat and I because we were working, you know, getting a bit of money together, and they go, (pats empty pockets) “Sorry darling, sorry…” When they were with me, you know, they never ever have any money, ever. And Roger kept stealing cigarettes even if I see him today. (laughter) So I’m just, “Hmm. Okay. Whatever.”
J: So when Roger went down to Truro with Smile, he was with Brian and Tim, what difference did you see in Roger with Smile compared to The Reaction?
S: Ooh, um, actually, they were very good, but I have to say, and I don't know if you're here today, Tim, but your voice was so good. Um, it blew a lovely way, Tim was an amazing singer, and so Smile was just, it was so good, Brian, great sound, lovely guitar, you know, Roger, amazing, everybody knew him anyway, and they were just really really good. So, what can you say, I mean, Reaction was great for their time, but Smile, and I mean, some of the earlier stuff that Tim wrote, you know, um, were just superb songs, lovely songs, so it was really good, they were very very good, and they played loads, and we went to every single gig for them.
We did, you know, we were very lucky, in Cornwall, unless you were into, you know, music or art, there was a lot of art going on, and there was a lot of hippie stuff, well, uh, beatnik(?) stuff going on, which Pat was more into than me, um, but there was nothing to do. There were no youth clubs, very rarely, you know, we had one at the church, but that was it. Um, so, there was nothing for kids to do, so we were so fortunate, and we were a unit, you know, we were a gang, we just went everywhere together, you know, and it was a really good, I mean, we, I have, you know, things go wrong in the family, obviously, but, you know, even the day that I'm done, you know, Roger was there, we went out, we went to, took me out, had coffee, you know, stayed with me all day, and, um, so, you know, they were kind, all of them, and we were a great unit. Loved it. We were so fortunate.
J: So Freddie used to come down to…
S: Yeah. We used to just hang around, yeah.
J: And you were in the audience with Freddie, watching Smile. What was Freddie like, was he itching to get up there or…?
S: You could tell he was, yeah. And he used to tell them things afterwards, “Well perhaps you should do it this way, darling.” He was very sort of like that, at the time. You know, he never changed really. But he was, as I say, he was really kind, so he wasn't sort of nasty to anyone or anything like that. He just wanted to be in it, you could tell. And I think at the time Tim was also getting into his graphics and art and maybe things were, I don't know why it sort of happened as it did, but Freddie was just, he used to just come down all the time and be around, so it was really good.
J: Did you ever see him in Ibex or Wreckage?
S: No, I don't think I did. I don't remember it. I mean, I started to get to know Pete Edmonds through Smile and everything, but when he would have been, you know, I've seen loads of photographs, so I sort of recognised him a bit, but don't think I have... Pretty sure I didn't, anyway. I don't remember it.
J: So when Freddie, and I don't know if this is true, I think I was told by someone but I'm going to get confirmation from you, that you were actually a part of the first people to know that he wanted to change the band name from Smile to Queen.
S: He did tell us early on, yeah. He told us – another crazy thing. We used to hitchhike up to London, which you could do in those days. Not safely, but my mum and dad didn't know it that way. We told him we'd been on the train and he'd give us the train money. And then we (mimics going off). Because it was the two of us, and it was always Pat and I, we sort of felt safe. We didn't really know about lorry drivers in those days. We weren't aware of the dangers. So we used to hitchhike up and they gave us a lift all the way, you know. And all the way to Hammersmith, which was brilliant. So we'd walk across the bridge and there we were in Barnes, in Ferry Road, where everybody was. And we'd just dive onto mattresses everywhere and think, right, that's where I am for the next week, or whatever.
But it was Freddie taking us to say goodbye. He walked us to the bus stop and he said, “I just must tell you this, dear. I've got a name for the band. I want to change it.” I said, “All right, what do you want to call it?” He said, “I'd like to call it Queen.” I went, “Oh, okay…” Now, those days, it was a long time ago. It was a little bit risqué, you know, but to say the least, really. So we just laughed and said, well, if he must, you know, I was thinking “The guys won't have that”. There's not many people who would call it Queen, you know. And anyway, it was fantastic. But by then, he also showed us that he'd done the whole Queen emblem thing, you know, which he designed. And so he was serious. There was no way it’d not been called Queen. And that was it. I mean, a few days later, there was Queen, you know, that happened straight away.
J: Did you ever go to any of the rehearsals of Queen?
S: I don't remember. I did go to Imperial College quite a lot.
J: Jimi Hendrix?
S: Yeah, some T-Rex, and all sorts of bands, they were all really great. But I don’t know if I saw them rehearsing. I don’t think I did actually.
J: When did you first see Queen?
S: Um, Truro
J: Truro, ah, the very first gig.
S: The very first gig.
J: (indistinct, speaking to audience) This would’ve been 27th of June, 1970.
S: It wasn't that one, though, it wasn't that one.
J: It wasn’t that one?
S: No, it wasn't. (Note: As you read, it was indeed that one.) It was in Truro City Hall, and the sound wasn't good, and it was Roger's mum's, I don't know, billed it or something, and they didn't like it, you know, you could tell they weren't happy about Queen at all. They billed it as Smile, and then they changed it to Queen. But it was good, you know, but it was their first ever gig. But I had seen Freddie before, now this is disputed by a number of people, but Pat and I remember, and I'm sure Pete Edmonds will as well, that Freddie took over one night in PJ's and just cleared the floor, he was fantastic.
And he played as Smile basically, and just took over, and he was strutting his stuff, you know, and he was absolutely brilliant. And I remember Pete Edmonds just dancing like a wild… in the centre of PJ's, which wasn't big at this time, and Pat and I just were in awe of it, we were just like, wow, that is incredible, you know. But other people say, didn't happen, but it did, didn’t it? That is one thing I'll never forget.
J: So you could see the potential in front of you.
S: Oh yeah, I don't think his voice was as good, it wasn't as good as Tim’s, it has to be said, and he was off key on a few occasions, but you know, the actual performance was what it was all about, it was really good.
J: Did you get to see Queen with all the bass players?
S: Well, I think I met one yesterday (Doug Bogie), (laughter) I mean I don't know, I probably did to be honest, I saw Queen before John joined, you know, so I did, but I don't really remember an awful lot about it to be perfectly honest, and I wasn't drunk or anything, it was just a long time ago, you know.
J: You’re very lucky you saw them with all the people...
S: I probably did, but I don't know. J: So I want to take you back to the Fanclub again. Is it true that Queen didn't want a fanclub? You said before Brian insisted… but why wouldn't he want a fan club if...?
S: Well… I don't know where that came from, to be perfectly honest, because all I know is that, from day one, Brian was the main instigator. He used to come into the store, sit there, read the letters. We were suddenly getting, like, they were being delivered all over London, even to our address in Greycoat Gardens(?), where we were living in Victoria, bag loads of stuff were coming in. And it was all from Japan, you know, they were massive in Japan, even in those days, you know. And then, a lot in Germany as well, and I got to know a few of the editors, so they would ring me and ask what the band were doing. So it kind of just built slowly.
But it was Brian, really, that wanted it. Yeah, and somebody had to do something, because these letters, you couldn't not answer them. And the Japanese fans always sent presents, so there was always little dolls, or, you know, all sorts of little gifts that they'd send. So we were like, I mean, my store was ridiculous, it would pile high, innit?
J: How did you get to start the Fanclub? Was it Trident or…?
S: The first place we moved to was Trident, yeah. So it was Trident Audio Productions in Wardour Street, next door to The Ship. And then there was a little alleyway and then Trident Studios was there. Yeah, so we moved in and we were on the ground floor and then there was a drum shop at the time. So we had all the drums in the front and then right at the back would be Queen Fanclub. And then we moved to another office later, upstairs. And then, you know, obviously they changed management, but at the time it was Jack Nelson. And yeah, it was brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Lovely day. I wanted still to do some singing, so I enrolled to, it's called City Knit(?), and it's for, but unfortunately it was an operatic club, so it's really not what I was looking to do.
But I did do some sessions at Trident, just to keep my hand in, but the only problem with it is you've got to pay your rent. And it wasn't paying rent, so I just kept working in the market, really. I made lifelong friends, you know, I really did. Hazel and Gaby, both have passed away now, but they were my longest friends, yeah, apart from Jill.
J: So when you left working for Queen, did you follow their career?
S: Yeah, to some extent, yeah, I worked at EMI, and EMI, they were signed to EMI. And one particular occasion when I was there, they sent me off to Amsterdam with the band. And I think we did some promotion or something over there. And Freddie asked me up to his room, and he had the top of the hotel, big, big room up there. And I sort of went up, and I thought, well, I wonder what this is about, you know. And it was about their contract coming up at EMI. So he was quizzing me about EMI records, you know. And at the time, EMI was just a happening company. It was absolutely brilliant. And we'd sign Kate Bush, and, you know, I was working on the Sex Pistols one week, and Kate the next, and, you know, it was just utterly brilliant. And I couldn't, you know, praise it enough.
So they did re-sign. So I think I had a hand in that, to be honest. I don't expect it was that big. I'm sure the accountants and what have you had a bigger hand than me. But Freddie was interested to know what I thought of the actual people and the running of the company and that sort of thing. I was seven years there, and I absolutely loved it. Yeah, I was in the press office to start with. And then, because of Queen, they asked me to join International. Because I knew all the editors. Because the band, you know, I got to know the editor of, like, German rock magazines, and all around the world, I knew all the editors. So that's why I went to International. And I carried on for 40 years in the music business.
J: Wow. And then you got invited to the 20th anniversary party, the Grand Show Hall.
S: Yeah.
J: You remember that?
S: Yeah, Tim was there, and he sat at a table with Roger, with Rod Stewart, running around like a mad thing. I remember Mary sitting on a sort of platform, and I was just staying there all evening, but not for me, the highlight, well apart from what you were going to show them in a minute, but one highlight for me was that Brian introduced me to Anita, and she was like, oh, I've heard all about you, and I thought, “Oh.” Really? “Yeah, you're from Cornwall, aren't you?” She gave big cuddles and everything, but then Brian said, oh, have you met Liza, and I said, no. Liza Minnelli. It was utterly brilliant. I was like, no, oh, hi. But again, she was all cuddles, and she was such – oh, you were there, it was brilliant, wasn’t it?
J: Very much so. I'll remember it forever.
S: I don't know, she came up and said, “I think they’re great,” and I said, “Oh, you know, I think you're pretty good too, you know.” (laughter) Well, you say to her, you know, Brian's just, you know, a gentleman like that. I'm still in touch with Brian. We talk about knee replacements. (laughter) Yeah, it's kind of not the same sort of conversations as we used to have, but yeah, he's still, we do keep in touch, you know. Yeah, and I congratulate him on becoming a Sir, (indistinct). Things like that, yeah exactly.
J: So you brought us along a photo to show everybody that is special to you. Yeah. So if you’d like to explain it…
S: Oh yeah, that's Pat, Freddie, and me – I don't know if anyone can see it, this was at The Groucho the night that we were both there, Freddie obviously knew he was very ill and he was in a back room, sort of separated from the main group and Richard Young was a photographer, very big, sort of well-known rock photographer. He came up to us and said, “Do you want to come and see him, Freddie wants to see you.” “Where is he?” You know, and I did know he was ill, but it was still a shock.
J: That is Sue, our Fred, and that is Pat, the lovely Pat Johnson. So these two ladies, they're Pat and Sue, kicked all this off, what we're doing today. And I think that deserves a round of applause. (applause) So, thank you for the great stories today, even I first heard them a few years ago, which I always loved. (indistinct) I don't collect anything, but I collect stories.
S: (refers to Jim) The first member, amazing.
J: Oh, I was a pest, I was knocking on the door at Trident and saying, “I've come from Liverpool, can I come in and see you?” And Sue went, “Yeah! Why not?” And then, I was never away.
S: Did you come to John Reid’s office?
J: Yeah!
S: It was very flash. It was a big, big place, compared to Trident. It was, yeah. I mean Trident’s next to a pub. Tommy Cooper used to drink in that pub in Trident, you know, next to Trident all the time. You could hear him laugh, you know. It was so funny. When we first moved to John Reid’s office, the first day we walked in, Elton had pushed John down the stairs, and there were four flights of stairs, you know. And John came sort of tumbling down, you know. And we went, oh! And he went, “Who are you?” And I said, “I’m from the Queen Fanclub”. And he went, “What?” you know. Stuffed us in the basement. And that's where we stayed, yeah. But all the Rocket Records was down there, and it was just a hoot. It was brilliant. We had great times. And Elton's driver used to take us up to Queen gigs in his Rolls Royce and the movies. It was fun. Yeah, it was really good fun.
But, you know, Queen were getting bigger and bigger and bigger. And when we left, I mean, John Reid wrote in his letter that we knew too much about the band. That was a problem. So we were out, you know. He needed to control it everywhere. But for me, you know, I don't know how long we would have carried on as fan club secretaries, really. I don't know. We enjoyed it. But, you know, it wasn't such a great career for us. And EMI was fantastic. So I was kind of grateful in a way.
J: What's your most memorable memory of your time working with them?
S: We used to go to gigs all together, and David Bowie's gig was particularly good, well I got some pictures. I left them back, I didn't want to break them, I wasn't sure if I should, but I can show you another time through the usual. Cause Doug (Puddifoot) fully focused doing all the photos at that time. And he was Jillian’s cousin, so I knew him quite well. There's a camera from the BBC, and he did all the early Queen stuff.
And we used to all go together to see people like David Bowie. And I know (indistinct) will tell you there's the most beautiful photo of Bowie on stage. We used to get front row, you know. But yeah, the Finsbury Park gig I think was one of the most memorable things I've ever seen. It was absolutely stunning. It was one of the best gigs I've ever seen. And I went on to work for a long time in the business. I saw a lot of gigs, not just theirs, but it was definitely one of the best things ever. My 21st was a real pain, and I had to sleep with my dad on the floor. The parties in Cornwall that we had.
There’s one, actually, Tim might remember this, when we all went to St. Agnes - and I think they might have played there that night…
J: Driftwood Pub.
S: Yeah, and we all went walking along the headland that night, overlooking the sea, and it was pitch dark and the sky was clear and full of stars, and Brian could name them all. Just, “oh yeah, this constellation, this and that,” you know. Wow. And then it was covered in glow worms and - it was just spectacular. So we all wandered back down to the beach and went into this big cave that they had - I don’t know if it’s still there or if you’re still allowed to get into it, but we did. And, it was Planet Earth, Tim’s song, that we sang, in this cave, and the harmonies - I don’t know how many of us there were, but it was Roger, Brian, I think Freddie was there that night, there was me singing, Tim obviously, he was there, it was a Smile gig obviously at the time. And um, it was something I’ll never forget, it gives me goose-pimples now - beautiful sound, of all these harmonies and echoing in this cave. Wonderful. And one of my favourite songs, too.
J: Well that was funny, that was amazing, I don’t know about you guys, that was some great stories there. We really liked it. Thank you, Sue Johnstone!
#queen band#freddie mercury#roger taylor#brian may#john deacon#sue johnstone#interview#Ri goes to UK
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Large 1 am thought dump about the ghovie under the cut (contains spoilers) (it really is large and pretty disorganized and a bit random)
(I rewrote this at 8 am ☝️)
The theater was PACKED!! The session I went to was almost fully sold out. There were cosplayers where I went too, it was great. No merch available unfortunately, but hey I didn't even expect it to show in my country so I'm very pleased.
(downside: no popcorn because if we tried to get popcorn we would have been late. The popcorn line basically took over the cinema's entry hall. The ghovie coincided with a bunch of parents taking their kids to see inside out which made for a funny mix at the waiting line).
I basically didn't know anything about what to expect but it was so cool. I'M JUST SAD I COULDN'T GET THE LAST QR CODE IN TIME SIGH BUT IT'S OKAY!!
I went with my dad and he loved it. This is the first movie we watched in a theater that he somehow didn't fall asleep in the middle of LOL.
The downside: as usual, sexual innuendos were a bit awkward to witness when your father is sitting right next to you. That didn't stop me from enjoying anything though dkkskfkdk
I kind of wish the people in my session had been more... Idk I mean it was basically a concert right!! I was expecting more singing and stuff. I normally hate loudness but in these contexts I really like it, but judging by the wait line we were all nerds so it makes sense why no one was extroverted enough for that.
(We did all laugh sometimes and also everyone groaned at the cliffhanger which was funny) (twice, once when the screen turned black and then when the lights of the theater turned back on) (everyone waited)
I did unfortunately also conclude that there's like a 90% chance that I could not ever actually go to a Ghost concert (or most big concerts) because of the lights* 🥹 (autism). I just looked away whenever it got too much but I was also kind of transfixed but regardless I had fun.
*well, really thinking about it I would probably already be overwhelmed just by being in that big of a crowd. Then having to listen to it scream the whole time would have probably kill me so there's that
I got so scared that Copia was going to die at the end. My heart was beating so fast nearing the end and when the balloon thing start I was like It's Over. Then it wasn't!
(In my heart I kind of knew Tobias wasn't going to do that because we are all very attached to him at this point and I would imagine he is too)
THE SKELETONS WERE SO SILLY I LOVED THEM
The Mary On a Cross animation made me very happy
The costume changes were so cool to witness and I really liked Papa's (or Fráter's now, I guess hehe) little boxer outfit.
Someone brought their baby AND THE BABY DIDN'T CRY OR SCREAM ONCE! Idk how their mom did it since I'm sure they couldn't have been sleeping but maybe they were raised with Ghost so they were just as hooked into the movie as the rest of us.
Oughhh ouch now I'm craving cinema popcorn so bad I wish I could have seen the movie while eating popcorn.
It was nice to get the confirmation that Copia really is Nihil and Sister's son (even though we all knew).
When they were in that box thing I thought that Nihil was going to possess him. I was expecting for him to possess him when he did the pose too for some reason.
I was like wow I will be completely normal about this I'm not even autistic about Ghost anymore. Then I sat down on the chair and immediately was fighting back tears. Apparently I can never be Normal About Things (specifically Things That I Like a Lot).
IF YOU HAVE GHOSTS!!
The new song is great
I was sad that Sister died but she's a ghost so really it's okay.
Immediate edit: THE TWIN THING ALSO YEAH THAT WAS UNEXPECTED
I might edit this later with more thoughts but I'm too sleepy to think right now. If you somehow read everything then hiiii thank you for reading my messy thoughts
Edit #2: The ghovie had no ads before it. Like at all. I was pleasantly surprised but also feel bad for the people that went into it a bit late thinking they wouldn't miss anything because the ads usually take minutes.
Edit #3: Another reason that makes me think that I'd die at a real Ghost concert is that the music is probably very loud as well, and while my brain dislikes loud music that I like less than the other loud things, it's still not immune to it. Thinking about it, it's crazy that somehow I didn't feel overwhelmed by the sounds in the ghovie once, considering that usually that happens at least once in every movie I see on the theater. Idk if it's just me or they just made it like that, but I'm VERY pleased about that too.
If you want more specific spoilers then dm me I love rambling about things I like
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Admissions - Chapter 1
This chapter is SFW. Fluff and filler, lots of laying the necessary groundwork, and introducing our sweet boy to original FMC from another story of mine. Also in this story Soap was shot in the head but through the magic of fanfiction he's alive and Simon didn't lose him.
Word count: 4533
Before you read: This story is written a little out of order. I'm working to fill in the holes and catch up to the chapters I've already published. Between working fulltime, running a nonprofit, and CPTSD making my life a little extra entertaining from time to time, writing and editing can be a little slow. So I beg your patience.
“Laswell’s sending new coordinates. Hope you packed something warm,” Price’s voice crackled over the radio.
“For the fucking desert?!” Ghost snapped while tossing aside blood-soaked gauze, pressing more to the side of Soap’s head.
Gaz coughed from where he sat on Ghost’s other side, keeping pressure on his own injury – a round he’d taken to the back of his shoulder. “S-sure did Cap… along with my wool knickers and Santa suit.”
Ghost rolled his eyes. Might have smacked him upside the head as well if Gaz wasn’t injured. He looked the sergeant over. Garrick seemed to be hanging in there, but his complexion was a bit off and his breaths labored. What really worried the lieutenant was the lack of an exit wound. That meant the bullet was still lodged inside, who knew where or what it had hit. A shot to the back of the shoulder could be serious, particularly when it hadn’t gone clean through.
They’d slowed the bleeding, but it wouldn’t stop.
His attention returned to Soap lying on the floor of the plane. The gauze was soaked through again.
They needed to hurry.
He couldn’t lose them.
“Get yourselves sorted. I’ll be there in a few days.”
At that, Ghost’s headset went silent.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Holy fucking shit it was windy.
The plane finally touched down, the force jolting all three men on board.
Medics came rushing on board almost immediately. Good. Simon could relax a little.
Or so he would’ve thought.
But despite the skull’s burning death stare, continuously telling them to fuck off because he was fine goddammit, these people would not fucking stop pestering him. Yelling at him, asking the same questions over and over, and trying to pull him up from his seat… Simon was a hair’s breadth from losing his shit and reducing everyone around him to nothing but a greasy smear beneath his boots.
“I know you all are not over here annoying the ever-loving shit outta hurt people.”
A disapproving female voice standing out among all the male ones cut through the chatter. While not a male soldier's loud, barking voice, it carried a confident authority nonetheless. The wall of people surrounding the angry Brit opened revealing a short, and very obviously annoyed, female.
“Are you hurt bad enough that you’re about to die on me?” she asked, gesturing at him without touching him, for which he was absurdly appreciative. Not that he’d show it.
“No,” Ghost loudly snapped.
If his rudeness offended her, she didn’t seem to care. “You heard him,” she waved off the people crowding around the skull. “Get moving, the hell is everyone standing around for?”
With Soap and Gaz already on their way and the annoying gaggle of people leaving him alone, thanks to her, Simon began making his way out of the plane. Ice-cold winds stole the breath from his lungs and stung the inside of his nose.
No they definitely hadn’t packed for this.
Gripping onto the side, he swung down from the plane, barely stifling a groan at the sharp pain shooting up his leg. He’d been able to balance most of his weight on his good foot as he made his way to the door, but once outside there wasn’t anything to hold onto for support, and he came up with several new swears at the impact. Somehow over the wind and plane's engines, the woman heard and turned back.
Ghost couldn’t hide his limp quickly enough. “Come on Lieutenant.” She came up to his side and slid under his arm. Simon could hardly put weight on his leg by that point and was forced to grab onto her shoulder to maintain balance. “I’m gonna grab your belt, okay? So I have a better grip.”
He couldn’t bring himself to argue, though he wanted to. An arm wrapped around his lower back and took hold of his belt, the position keeping her pressed firmly against him and his arm across the back of her shoulders.
Simon just knew he was the color of a goddamn tomato under his mask, fucking hell. Thankfully he’d chosen his full skull mask this time and his face was completely hidden.
With slow, hobbling steps the massive lieutenant and the tiny female headed into the med bay. He tensed the moment the doors shut behind him. The woman must have felt it because she brought them to a stop at the closest corner. Ghost’s arm rested on the fire extinguisher to keep himself up and as much of his weight off his foot as he possibly could.
The medic disappeared behind a curtain a moment before returning with a chair helping him over to it and making sure he could sit down without crashing to the floor. “You’re out of the way over here so no one should bother you. Not for a while at least. I’m gonna take care of your guys then I’ll be back, okay?”
He grunted indifferently in response and looked away. Her bright amber eyes and sweet voice made him feel… different.
That irritated him.
And he was already extremely fucking irritated as it was.
Eventually the organized chaos around Soap and Gaz dissipated, leaving the two resting on gurneys for whatever came next. The Brit had begun pondering making his way over, but someone with a short white lab coat came waltzing his direction. Pale, baby-faced, and with an annoyingly snooty expression the Brit instantly disliked. Ghost could swear he could still see the silver spoon in his mouth.
“Strip,” he demanded.
What in the absolute fuck. Not even so much as an offer for dinner first.
“Piss off,” Ghost replied.
The little prick puffed up like a balloon. “Shirt off Soldier!”
The black-eyed skull glared back at him. After a mission gone sideways and his team injured, the lieutenant was not in the mood for this. Plus it was a stupid request anyway; he had a hurt foot for christ’s sake.
“That was an order! Shirt off! Before I call the MPs and have you reprimanded for refusal to obey!”
The Brit growled, beyond done with this petulant, overgrown child. “Piss off!”
Reclined on a stretcher in a bay across the room, Soap was awake. Groggy as he was, he’d still recognize that grouchy, growly voice anywhere. The voice Ghost used when he was about to slaughter someone, and knowing full well LT would be extra pissy after a failed mission, he called for the attention of someone behind his curtain.
Simon’s periphery caught Soap’s movement; Johnny gesturing and talking to someone he couldn't see. He couldn’t even begin to process his relief when the female medic’s head popped around the curtain and she began walking over, looking exasperated and rolling her eyes.
The obnoxious asshole in front of Ghost snapped his fingers at two MPs near the door. “Get him out, drag him out if you have to!” his voice cracked.
“Actually boys,” the woman interrupted, “if you could remove him that’d be great.”
The MPs nodded, barely concealing gleeful grins, and began herding the little prick through the door. “Thanks guys!” she smiled as her attention returned to the seated lieutenant. “I’m really sorry about him. Now that he has an MD after his name he thinks he’s the shit.”
She hooked the toe of her shoe around the leg of a rolling stool and dragged it over, sitting in front of the angry skull. “My name’s Sereza, what’s yours?”
Sereza, hm?
The Brit stared a moment. “Ghost,” he replied curtly.
“Your team is all good. They’re stable and comfortable, now it’s your turn, cool?”
The skull nodded. Knowing his sergeants weren’t about to die on him, Simon was okay (ish) with his injury getting looked at. His heart accelerated as she kneeled down in front of him. Then he remembered – he had a hurt foot.
The apples of his cheeks begin to burn and the front of his pants felt a bit snug as she settled in front of his legs. Something he really didn’t want to happen. Simon clenched his jaw, feeling utterly disgusted with himself. The poor girl was just doing her job; she didn’t deserve that.
Control yourself! Fucking hell...
Seemingly oblivious - or at least he hoped to God she was - Sereza gingerly lifted his leg and rested the heel of his boot on her thigh.
The Brit mentally chuckled at seeing that his boot was as wide as her leg. Bloody hell she’s a tiny little thing. The brief lift in his spirits dulled when the sole of his boot left muddy streaks on her pants though, leaving him feeling guilty and wondering if he should offer to buy her new ones.
Sereza picked apart the knot and pulled the lace out of his boot before gently easing it off. There was some mild discomfort as she carefully pulled off his sock but it was by far the gentlest touch Ghost had experienced in a very long time. Possibly ever, now that he thought about it. Her tender but sure grip supported his ankle in the perfect position as she leaned over and inspected him. Light touches and cool, soft skin relaxed the lieutenant beyond measure. Even with the occasional slightly uncomfortable manipulation of his foot, Simon found he was at serious risk of becoming a puddle right there in her chair.
Not very becoming of a lieutenant.
If either of the sergeants was around he knew they’d make some stupid wisecrack about him having a foot fetish. Fuck’s sake…
His trouser leg being pushed up his calf slightly brought Ghost’s gaze back down to the woman. He briefly worried she’d push it up too far, exposing the point where his scars began, but she moved the material just enough and continued examining him with a neutral expression.
“Congrats Lieutenant, you fractured your foot,” she finally said. Ghost grunted. “It’s just a tiny break; right about here,” she gestured without touching his skin. “How’d that happen?”
“Fucker drove over my foot.”
“That wasn’t nice. Hope you got him back for it.”
The skull quirked an eyebrow. If the hole between his eyes and the mess of gray matter splattering the front seats were any indication, then yes, Ghost did indeed get him back. But he decided to spare her the specific details and only hummed an affirmative.
She called to someone around the corner and gave them a verbal list of things she wanted. The person quickly returned with an armful of things and piled them onto her stool. He moved to hold Ghost’s leg-
“No,” the lieutenant irritably snapped before speaking more calmly to the female, “… Just you.”
The other medic looked ready to argue but the woman intervened yet again, giving him a task that sounded suspiciously like busy work to the lieutenant, and sending him on his way. “Help me out a little,” she said to Ghost as she handed him some packages. “Open this please, but don’t let it fall on the floor.”
Having been put to work, Simon dutifully opened seal after seal, handing things to her as she needed them. If he was responsible for her help having been sent away then he supposed it was the least he could do. Plus she had to touch his feet, and he was sure they smelled by this point. And she had helped his sergeants, sent off that shithead that tried having him thrown out … His stomach felt uncomfortably heavy with the weight of his debts to her.
Unwrapping things was the absolute fucking least he could do.
She wrapped his foot in multiple layers before the medic came back again to set a walking boot down beside the stool. “Used one of these before?” she asked the skull, dragging the boot over.
Ghost hummed in response. He had indeed, several times.
The first being his father’s doing… Simon had been just seven years old.
The woman straightened out his pant leg and lowered his foot comfortably into the boot before closing it snuggly around him. The Brit already missed her touch. Medics were always so bloody rough with him, but her though…
Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, he reached down and adjusted the boot until it was where he knew from experience he wanted it to be.
Sereza stood and held out an arm, helping to heave the huge lieutenant out of the slightly-too-small chair. Simon barely suppressed an amused chuckle when out of the corner of his eye he noticed her grabbing onto the nearby doorframe to keep from being toppled by him.
Little peanut, he laughed to himself.
“Six weeks in this thing, okay? Be extra nice to it, especially in the gym, don't get it wet, and strictly no running. Keep it elevated as much as you can, lots of ice… all the usual stuff. Come back here to have it rewrapped weekly, if not sooner. I know how you guys usually are about pain meds but if you decide you want something just say the word,” she instructed with a sweet smile, standing ready to steady him as he took a few careful steps, testing the boot.
Satisfied that he could put weight on it without much pain or collapsing, his gloved hand let go of her shoulder, though he kind of wanted to keep it there.
What the hell was going on with him? Maybe he was just tired. It had been a shit day after all. And a long one.
Someone called her away so Ghost walked – very slowly at first – over to the bay where Soap and Gaz were resting. He didn’t care for the sight of them connected to IVs and beeping monitors and whatever else all this stuff was, but they were both alive and would live to face another fight.
“Johnny,” his gravelly baritone whispered, having noticed Gaz fast asleep. Or heavily sedated, he wasn’t sure which.
The Scot cracked his eyes open. “She’s something, ey LT?” he drowsily grinned.
Simon groaned quietly as he sat in the chair beside Soap’s bed. “Unusual name.”
“That’s what I s-said… Lass told me she’s from… froooomm Ar… Arrrgentina,” Soap words slurred, obviously a little medicated himself. “Pretty lil… liiiiittle bird.”
Ghost didn’t say anything more and let Soap ramble before he dozed off. Most of it incoherent nonsense but Simon didn’t mind, it reinforced that he hadn’t lost Johnny. Not this time.
Blackened eyes wandered around discreetly from behind the skull plate, trying to distract his mind. Tracking everyone’s movements around him and not at all trying to find a certain female. He hated the med bay. Anything to do with hospitals and clinics and such. Too much time spent in them as a child when his shitty excuse of a sperm donor went overboard. The now familiar caramel waves caught his eye and diverted his mind from unpleasant memories.
This med bay though… maybe this one wasn’t so bad.
Leaning back in the chair and stretching out his legs, the physical and mental exhaustion of a mission gone sideways caught up with him and the lieutenant began to drift off.
The hours ticked by.
They took Gaz off somewhere. Multiple medics stopped by to check vitals and switch out IVs and units of blood for Soap while the sergeant continued to lightly snore. Each of them roused the lieutenant a bit just by their presence alone, though he paid them no mind and didn’t let on that he was awake. If they weren’t the woman then he really couldn’t be bothered. Hours continued to pass, Soap left, came back, then left again, and Simon’s back ached from this fucking metal chair.
A warm glow shining on his eyelids interrupted his nap. Annoyed, he squinted at the doors to the runway where they'd landed, eyebrows furrowing in thought. It had been late in the day when they got here, why was it still light out?
Was it just him or was this the longest day ever?
Fuck it. Whatever.
Too tired to care at this point. And fuck this uncomfortable chair too.
Cracking his neck, Simon nodded off once again.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A touch on his forearm caused Ghost’s hand to clamp down hard on someone.
Murderous blackened eyes met with bright amber ones. He quickly let go of her hand. “Sorry,” he muttered, feeling horrendously guilty when he saw the red print of his hand marring her olive skin. (“YOU LITTLE FUCKER, ALWAYS FUCKING SHIT UP!”) The Brit blinked hard behind the skull plate, trying to force his father’s voice out of his head.
“No worries Lieutenant,” she smiled sweetly with a reassuring squeeze on his arm. “We’re moving your guys to a room, do you wanna go along? See everyone? We can find you an actual bed to sleep in after. Something a little better than this shitty chair.”
The Brit staggered along, following Sereza out of the triage area and into the winding system of corridors that formed the guts of all hospitals.
“MacTavish should be done soon,” she informed. “Ah. Speaking of-”
A gurney banged open a set of double doors a few feet ahead of them, one of the attendants handing papers off to her as the bed moved on ahead. A few silent moments and an insane number of turns later, Soap’s gurney finally veered through a final set of doors. The words Intensive Care above them made Simon’s chest feel tight.
“We were able to get them in the same room,” the woman’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Garrick left post-op about twenty minutes ago so he should be set up already.”
The woman… what was her name?
It was unusual... fuck, he couldn’t remember exactly. And he didn’t want to insult her by getting it wrong. He’d have to wait and hope he’d be able to pick it up somewhere.
Simon hung back in the hall, out of the way, as people swarmed in and out of the room. Finally everything settled and the Brit felt that he could enter without getting in the way. Deep down he wasn’t sure he was ready to and his mind was imagining the state his team might be in, but as a lieutenant he was responsible for them and that was not a duty Ghost took lightly.
After a silent deep breath, he walked into the dim room. Soap was settled in across the room from a quietly sleeping Garrick and aside from the expected bandages, tubes, and monitors, Simon was immensely relieved to find nothing horribly worrying. Next to Soap, the little one stood off to the side, signing papers, reading over other papers, and conversing with the last few staff members before they too left, skittering almost fearfully past the skull-masked Brit.
“How is he?” Ghost quietly asked, looking down at Johnny.
“He’s really good actually. And lucky. His scan shows no serious damage that time won’t fix. He has a drain right now because we don’t want any swelling making things worse and giving us a new set of problems, but that can come out in about a few days. That’s the only thing keeping him in ICU; just needs to be watched closely.”
How the hell was she so soothing to listen to? Ghost couldn’t understand it.
The way she talked made him feel like there was nothing to worry about.
“Shall we go find you a bed? They’re gonna sleep the rest of the day and you look ready to drop.”
The pair walked side by side down the hall, turning more corners than the Brit cared to count, while she filled him in on more details. He was trying to keep up with where they were going and what she was saying, but he was so fucking tired.
“…then for Garrick, we operated on him last night. Removed two fragments, patched a few holes. Very smooth, no complications, but he does have a chest tube in for right now. I expect he’ll be up and about in four, maybe five days. He’s in ICU only so MacTavish has a friend to keep him company. Didn’t want him waking up in a strange place without someone he knows there.”
“Last night?”
Hazel eyes looked up at him quizzically. “…Yeah… When you guys got here...”
She spoke slowly and with concern, like she was beginning to suspect he had a concussion or something. “It’s-” the skull looked toward the bright windows up ahead. Wait a damn minute…
“Ghost, do you know where you are?”
Actually no. Not exactly. It wasn’t a concern at the time.
His concern was not losing anyone on his team. They were all he had.
He grumpily shook his head, “Watcher had to divert us here quickly because of injuries, no time for details.”
“Ah. Well since no one took the time to tell you, you’re in the Arctic,” she explained when the Brit continued looking perplexed.
Things began to make a little more sense. “Is this,” fuck, what was it called, “when the sun doesn’t go down?”
A mellifluous little laugh almost made his cold heart melt, which was slightly aggravating. That left him feeling like he wasn’t in full control.
“Yeah, midnight sun. It’s just a little after 0300 right now. Welcome to Camp Westforge, Lieutenant,” she gestured at a pair of large windows that offered the Brit a view of the expansive snow-covered wilderness beyond the base’s high walls. Despite it being around three in the morning, the bright sun hung low above the frozen horizon. “Throws you off, doesn’t it? That explains why you were confused. I was beginning to worry I missed a head injury.”
The Brit muttered something under his breath about being perfectly fine.
“Oh quit fussing,” she lightly teased.
Ghost was taken aback. No one had ever dared speak to him like that.
And he didn't fuss. Ever.
He pinned a half-hearted scowl on the small female walking by his shoulder but she was completely unbothered, goddammit.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Price arrived two days later and over the next month the 141 slowly started getting back on their feet.
Injuries would keep them out of action for the short term, but there was still a fight to win, and to bring that fight to Makarov the team needed to be close by. Ergo, Laswell had informed them, Westforge was to be their temporary base of operations. 'Little home away from home,' she'd called it.
Johnny was initially crushed by the damage done to his mohawk but his sunny disposition kicked in and he was back to seeing the bright side of things again - at least he was alive and had narrowly avoided a career-ending, life-altering injury. If that cost him his mohawk then so be it. Hair would grow back.
Garrick had practically jumped out of bed the day after his chest tube was removed and declared himself ready for action again. The base was swarming with planes and helos lately and each time a new one came in Gaz or Johnny would say something about their ride being here. Simon had to talk some sense into them, insisting that Johnny wouldn’t be useful in the field with staples still in his head, which Soap disagreed with. Afterward, Johnny sulked in his bed, continuing his arguments in Gaelic, Simon was sure. Gaz on the other hand spent most of his time rehabbing his shoulder.
Through all of it, he saw almost none of the woman.
That was frustrating, which made no sense to him. What did he care if she was busy or whatever? Well he didn't. Or, shouldn't. He wasn’t responsible for her. But without fail, every fucking time he and this stupid fucking boot limped into a room the skull found himself looking around for a head of long dark honey-colored curls, yet found none. It was putting him in a very sour mood.
Which also annoyed him.
Which made his mood worse.
But that little one made him feel… weird. A warm feeling would settle in his chest and stomach.
But what in the bloody hell? And fucking why?
It was always with him, night and day, fluttering around in his chest. At least it was a pleasant feeling for a goddamn change.
The skull asked himself yet again at what fucking point exactly had his professionalism gone out the window? Distractions were dangerous in the field. He was here to do a job: find target, eliminate target, maybe get some intel in the process.
That’s all.
Simple.
Right?
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Simon hated having a hurt foot.
It was maddening how much it slowed him down. Plus watching how much others had to slow down to match his pace bothered him immensely. He never liked when he felt he was inconveniencing others. Even in a small way like this.
He had his father to thank for that too, he guessed.
But more importantly… where the bloody hell did the woman disappear to?!
It had been fucking days!
Maybe she was gone.
Sent back to wherever she lived. Which hurt to think about.
Noises behind him grated severely on his fragile nerves. The entire damn room started asking questions all at the same fucking time.
How you holding up? Did you get enough sleep? When’d you eat last? And so forth.
The Brit glared angrily at the tea in his hand. Fucking hell. Busybodies.
A soft feminine laugh followed their rapid line of questioning. “Fine, not really, and I don’t remember.”
Frayed nerves relaxed. In all of Westforge, there was only one female and a sensation he’d never experienced, definitely not around others, washed over him once he heard her voice. The lieutenant was both inexplicably relieved and highly perplexed. He was happy because the little one was there again, but still didn’t understand why this seemed to only ever happen around her.
Also others talking to her so familiarly and affectionately was getting under his skin.
“That rush kept you fucking busy! Goddamn!” some random corporal chimed in. Simon pulled his hood farther forward, hiding how he glowered at the back of his head.
She quietly laughed as she stirred creamer into her coffee. “No shit. I sewed enough guys together to make a rug.”
Could he order these people to quit talking to her? Because they were still doing it and it bothered him. Just say hello and get the fuck out.
Simon watched, thoroughly irked, as soldier after soldier after soldier passed by the little one and greeted her. Why couldn’t they just tell her good morning? He’d have felt fine about that. Kind of.
But no, every goddamn one of them had to hug her, pat her on the head, and talk to her all nice-like. What in the fresh fucking hell? Why the affection? Why did everyone have to touch her?
… Why couldn’t he?
Ghost immediately flushed hard under his balaclava upon realizing why he hated everything about this so much.
He wanted that to be him.
To stand close to her again. To be on the receiving end of that smile.
Gloved fingers tugged at his jumper as he retreated even further into the hood and adjusted the balaclava under his eyes to be sure it covered the tops of his cheeks. Thoughts like this had no business being in his head during deployments.
A tall black-haired guy in his gym clothes casually walked in and began to make his own coffee beside her. Then they smiled at one another as he embraced her in a side hug, her head resting against his shoulder as he kissed the top of her head.
And a cold, crushing weight slammed into the Brit’s chest. Clearing a burning lump from his throat, the lieutenant stood and left the room.
He couldn’t take watching anymore.
#simon ghost riley#call of duty#simon riley#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod#ghost cod#ghost simon riley#cod mw ghost#ghost mw2#cod smut#simon “ghost” riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley imagine#cod mw3#cod modern warfare#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#john price#call of duty modern warfare#modern warfare#cod fanfic#cod fandom#call of duty smut#cod fluff#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley smut#ghost smut#smutty smut smut
13 notes
·
View notes