Phillip Graves who's obsessed with you.
You caught his eye long before you even knew who he was.
There's something about you, darlin', something that draws him in and he wants to know more. While he's bidding his time, he'll gather all the intel he needs.
Thank god for Shadow Company. His boys are the best at what they do and it's nothing to reward 'em for a job well done. Everything about you, from what you had for dinner last night up to your favorite coffee blend is his for the keeping.
Graves makes it a point to learn your mannerisms, too. He takes notice of the way your nose slightly scrunches and your eyes flick to the right when you're thinking about what to say next to your friend you met for drinks at one of the local bars. He drinks in the way your middle and index finger run over your lips as you contemplate which drink you're trying to order at your favorite coffee shop. You'd never know he did it, either. Thank goodness for plain clothes and baseball caps, eh, darlin'?
But when Graves does make his presence known, he does so in small doses. Your favorite bakery? Oh, what a coincidence, darlin'. They make good sourdough bread. You favorite deli? Oh, darlin', have you had their chicken club sandwich before? The bar you're at? Him and the boys come here all the time to decompress, sweetheart. Their craft beer is fuckin' amazing, too. It's enough to keep your suspicions to a minimum, even they even exist. To you, he's just the friendly, well-meaning resident with similar likes.
And then he finds out you're dating, or, well, you're trying your hand at dating. Same friend you met with for drinks was playing matchmaker. The boys did their homework. Your date was a simple fellow, accountant or human resources or some shit, white collar kid with the looks but not the self-esteem to go with them. Regular hobbies not worth mentioning. A boring sumbitch if Graves ever saw one. He's not bad. He's not good for you, either, darlin'. Not like Graves himself is.
And when the time comes, you'd be left wondering what the hell happened. Knowing you, you were dressed to the nines, ready to chow down on some good food, and... he bailed on you. A short text. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything was probably just fine and dandy a couple hours ago. Phillip counts on it, and he thanks his lucky stars that he predicted right as he sees you at your favorite dive, nursing the craft beer he recommended. And he makes his move.
By his estimation, it's been about 30 to 45 minutes since he came and sat next to you and helped make your would-be date seem like a bad, faraway memory. Graves has you embroiled in conversation, has you laughing, replacing what would've been a boring ass date with his charm and wit, and before you know it, Graves drops the coup de grâce on your love life. "A bit starving here, darlin'. How about we grab a bite on me?" And shit, you couldn't turn that down. Not when he turned what would've been a bad night on its head. You beamed, accepted without hesitation, and off you two went. For a boring bastard, the kid's got good taste in food.
And when Graves sees the poor bastard again, he'll thank him. For stepping aside, for the dinner reservations, y'know, a friendly conversation between men. And as for his boys, well, Graves figures a bonus is due. After all, he got his. Why not spread his joy around?
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See something funny
When I watched My Pride I always thought Feather was just Nothing's step-brother
Makes sense, son of her step-father, that's her step-brother
But then I watched your review on it and yall kept calling him her cousin and I went???? No that's her step brother
Until I realized, no he IS also her cousin, her mom and his mom are sisters AND I DIDNT KNOW
They did SUCH a bad job with establishing basic character relationships that I didn't know that Powerstrike and Waterhunter were sisters.
HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THAT THERE AREN'T MANY ADULTS IN THE PRIDE AFTER SHARPTONGUE DIES
Powerstrike and Waterhunter literally never interact it's hard to tell if they even know each other????
Like in IHS you can instantly tell the relationships between Clever, Careful, and Vicious and you can tell they're sisters because omfg they actually talk and interact like they know each other!!!🫨🫨🫨
Like you don't even need to make Waterhunter speak but just let her interact with ANYONE????
She feels like a such an outsider you can hardly tell that Nothing, our main character who she lived with and who grew up with her around, EVEN KNOWS WHO SHE IS
lmao yeah, we've got a lot of comments that are all 'you keep calling Feather her cousin when he's not, he's her little brother: this just proves you didn't watch the show properly and your whole argument is void!' and we're just there snickering because we know...
In some twisted way, nobody knows the ins and outs of this show like we do. We didn't study it for six months without dotting the i's and crossing the t's. We didn't ask for this. We could've become well versed in French or some shit but instead we became experts in My Pride lore. It's a curse. lolol
The only thing I think I messed up was calling Kyoga a 'god' once or twice but, in my absolute defence, she did transform into a literal god at one point so I don't know what the hell else I was supposed to call her. lol
But the weird thing about Waterhunter is that she was actually supposed to have lines and she did have a VA. The lines were just cut for whatever reason. I'm willing to suspect that Tribble probably found the notion of having a voiceless character quite funny but it just made her a big ol' waste of space. A lot of nonsensical things seem to happen just so Tribble could have her weird inside jokes (i.e. Nothing have that weird ass steak thing on her face, Feather randomly disappearing in the middle of the Nothing vs. Fire battle).
A lot of characters could've been combined here. Powerstrike and Waterhunter. Farleap and Feather. Maybe even Silentstalk combined with them two for good measure. There was also no reason for Quickmane and Proudmane to be separate characters either.
But thank you so much, anon. I think another thing that helps is that Cat also designed the three sisters to actually look related too. Powerstrike and Waterhunter not only do not remotely resemble each other but neither of them resemble their mother either. Which is weird because I don't recall Cow of the Wild having this issue. - RJ
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Hello ☺️ Hope your doing well.
Could I please request a Matt Dierkes one shot if possible him being a grumpy ass except to his wife?? Fluffy and cute 🙏
Oh you are my first Matt Dierkes one-shot! Yes! Thank you for the inspiration :)
Feeling on the Edge
TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986
Matt drummed his fingers on his lap anxiously. I could tell he was in a bad mood, dying to get out of the video call meeting with the management team. His face said he was irritated and completely over the whole record label bull crap. He just wanted to be done.
Seeing how fidgety he was, I nudged his leg beneath the table with my foot hoping the friction was enough to tame his temper. He looked over at me and his dark eyes, full aggression, immediately softening.
I grinned at him to let him know I was still in his corner. He grinned back, took a deep breath, and refocused his attention on the computer screen, but not before reaching over and placing his hand on the inside of my thigh.
The rest of the day was hell for everyone, because Matt insisted on setting the world around him on fire. Every little thing that someone did annoyed him. Every word that was said, Matt had some sarcastic, snippy remark to follow it.
In the process of just three hours, he managed to break a computer monitor because he was too impatient, cut the wrong wire while attempting to splice a cable that Noah said was dead, spill Nicholas's coffee all down the front of him because he turned around too fast out of anger, dropped a mix board, misplaced his phone not once, not twice, but three times, and to top it all off, he had run out of Dr. Pepper.
"Dude, you need to calm the hell down! You starting to stress me out," Folio criticized him.
"Yeah, no joke. And if Folio is stressed then the rest of us are at the point of giving you a beatdown."
Matt glared at Noah who crossed his arms while leaning against the table. Matt didn't speak, but the look he was giving Noah screamed a big "fuck you".
"Well, it's not my fault. Those stupid pieces of shit at the record label treat me like I'm and idiot sometimes. I'm not a fucking idiot! I know how to do my job!"
"Nobody is say you are, baby," I pointed out.
"Matt calm down, man. You know not to listen to those people."
Nicholas came walking into the conversation after switching to a pair of clean clothes.
"Oh my god! What the hell are you wearing?"
Matt's expression was of utter disgust, looking at Nick. All of us turned and stared, a few bursting into fits of laughter. Nick didn't match at all. Sporting a neon pink shit that was a little too snug and a pair of snake skin looking pants that were way too stretchy for him to be wearing, he looked ridiculous.
"What?" Nick shrugged with his hands up. "It's all I could find. If someone hadn't been so angry and turned around so fast," scowling over at Matt, "I wouldn't be in this mess."
"Oh so it's my fault you look like a clown?" Matt snapped.
"Yeah, I kinda is," Nick shot back. "And your piss poor attitude!"
"What! I don't have a piss poor attitude! I've just had a fucked up day and all of you have added to it!"
"What! I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed defensively.
Matt's eyes quickly shifted over to me. "No, no, not you baby. You're fine. You haven't done anything wrong," he reassured me, smiling.
"Oh for god's sake, come on man! Your wife isn't that perfect," Folio groaned.
"Hey!"
"Mmm, I don't know, Folio, she's pretty perfect. I mean, you've had her cooking, and we all know that's she's done your laundry a few times, even finding the matches to your lost socks."
Folio looked at me, smiling apologetically.
"Yeah I guess so. Sorry, Y/N," he said leaning over and laying a sweet soft kiss on my cheek.
"Okay, well if you all are done flirting with my wife, I'd like to have her back now, please. Go get your own women! She belongs to me."
"Matt! That was so mean!"
"What! It's true! They're always trying to steal you from me."
I laughed so hard.
"Holy shit, Matt, you can't be serious!"
"Especially you," he chided Noah. "You're always trying to get in her pants."
"Alright, Matthew. That's it! Come with me; now!"
"It's Matt," he corrected me as I pulled him away from the group.
"What is going on with you? Where did that come from? Noah? Really, Matt!"
Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, walking sluggishly over to me. I snaked my arms around his waist, shaking my head at the Lord of the Rings Shirt he was wearing.
"I just washed that shirt and hung it up last night," I scolded him.
Turning his hat backwards, he lowered his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. I'm snapping again, aren't I?"
I smiled, placing my hands on the sides of his face.
"Yes, baby, you are," slowly sliding my hands up under his shirt. I played with the front of the waistband of his joggers, feeling his tummy sink in from being so ticklish. He chuckled, jerking his body away from me, but I gathered his shirt in my hands and pulled him back into me. That's when his lips found mine, colliding ever so gently. They were wet and warm, and tasted like the recent Celsius he'd just had.
"I'm sorry," he breathed.
"For which part?"
He scowled at me, confused.
"For being grumpy or the shirt?"
Matt laughed, giving me a quick kiss.
"Both."
"You owe those guys over there more of an apology. You've been horrible to them today. Are you listening to me?"
"Yup, I am," he assured me. But the way he scooped me up into his arms, leaning over me and attaching his lips to my neck, I knew he wasn't.
"Matthew, stop!" I squealed, trying to get out of his clutches. "Let me go!"
"It's Matt, and no," he groaned, letting his head fall to my chest as I continued to wiggle out of his embrace. "I'm not letting you go. Ever."
The more I wiggled, the more he tightened his grip and my leg got caught up in his, tripping me, and causing me to fall. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the hard impact, only to meet a soft body beneath me and a slight bump to the floor. I looked down and saw Matt beneath me.
"Shit, baby!"
"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm good." He stared up at me, smiling.
"What? Are you sure?"
"Positive," he assures me, reaching up and pulling me into his lips. He kissed me slow, taking his time to let me feel every move he made.
"Mmm, that... I like that."
He grinned. "I like, you. A lot."
"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I joked, leaning in and kissing him again, feeling him smile against my lips.
Matt sat up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. I rested my arms on his shoulders, staring into his eyes.
"You're really pretty, you know that?"
"Oh, so you can give compliments. Shocking!"
"Shut-up! God," he shook his head laughing. "Your sarcasm's going to kill me one day. And what the hell, I'm trying to be nice here!"
Matt tickled my sides, making me laugh hysterically.
"I love you," he said, kissing my forehead.
Wrapping myself up in his arms, I snuggle into Matt, burying my face in his chest. His heart was beating fast, telling me he was happy; that I made him happy.
"I love you, too, Matthew," I replied, grinning.
"It's Matt."
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Ghost was not having a very good day. It wasn’t the job in particular because it was expected of him to be used to it by now after 15 years of service; it was because the man right next to him grinning ear to ear as if he didn't just come out of a bloody combat with explosives, terrorists and flying limbs. The limbs were not belong to them, god bless, but especially the explosives were their doing.
Not theirs as a team, but the man who has a nasty smile's.
The explosives belonged to the reason of his headache for months, Soap.
Ghost tried not to fall for Soap's banter, but his mouth didn't know better. Even though he couldn’t even hear what the man was saying, Ghost replied sarcastically. "Yeah, Johnny. Sure, whatever you say."
What other answer there that could be said to everything? Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just please stop talking.
"You do think I'm pretty? Oh, that’s flattering. Thank you, sir. Please write that in the report so Price can see my charm too. It would work better coming from you, the big man with the mask." Ghost almost tripped down from the heli and crashed onto the mountains thousands fits down and at that moment he didn't think he would mind a good head trauma with a highly possible death.
He though to put a stop to it, to ruin the mood, but decided against. Ghost couldn’t avert his gaze fast enough, and his eyes locked with Soap for a split second. The carefree smile Soap sent to Ghost made his stomach flutter.
And Ghost would drink bleach if he knew it would kill the butterflies in his stomach.
Yeah, there was another reason for his headache and bad times in general.
Ghost was down bad in love with his Sergeant, John MacTavish.
Ghost watched Soap walking into the base with the other soldiers, laughing loudly and looking all hot in bloody gear. Ghost just stood next to the heli silently, tried to appear like he was busy with something, and checked Soap's back out. Ghost knew he wasn’t injured or anything, but who could be sure? In the heat of the war, blood full of adrenalin, everybody could make mistakes.
The reason of his gaze was purely professional and had nothing to do with how Soap's ass was moving with his every step. Totally.
"You might wanna take your chances, you know that right?" Ghost almost jumped out of his skin and his hand went to his knife reflexively.
"You know better to not sneak up on me, Price." Ghost relaxed his stance and put the knife back. Price was smiling at him.
"And I know that I can give you a very hard time if we had to fight. Anyway. You pray that there's a mask on your face. With how obvious you're about staring at Johnny, even my dead mom can come up and laugh at you."
Ghost inhaled sharply. "You call him Johnny again, we will see about that fight."
A laugh escaped Price. "God. Calm down, son. No one's taking him. Fine, I won't call him that. Jesus."
Ghost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t feeling like talking and yet he couldn’t shut up today. Also, he didn't want to think about Price's implication. "Why are you here? I was coming to report."
Price stroked his mustache, and that made Ghost's stomach drop with worry. "Why is your hand on your mustache? Who died?"
Price threw him a dirty look. "Why do everyone think like that when they see me? No one died. Not yet. And hopefully never. I changed my mind. You go rest, we will talk later when all of you available."
"You said no one died, yet. Why don't we talk now?" Ghost's knuckles were white from holding his west so hard. Something bad happened, he knew it.
Price stared at him again, a little longer than a second. "It's nothing out of ordinary. Just our everyday madness. You look like shit, and Soap looked like shit. If the only sane one is Gaz among you, I fear everyone will die. So, go rest. I will call you when you can open both of your eyes at will."
Ghost couldn’t sleep. It was expected, after how Price teased him with an apocalypse. In his mind, at least. If he didn't think the worst could happen, he wouldn’t be Ghost. He was so tense that Ghost thought his skin was gonna tear apart. His headache from the explosions was worse, and every single one of his muscles were hurting.
All stopped when he saw Johnny sitting at where Ghost was usually sitting. It was his secret place, a tiny corner with no noise and just darkness. The place he would come when the sleep didn't.
"Why are you here?" Ghost would love it if he didn't sound like a goddamn incubus.
Soap jumped, expectedly. Turned to him sharply, then took a deep breath when he saw who was it. "You almost had to file a suspicious dead report on me. Stop creating work for yourself."
Ghost snickered, that’s how his Johnny was. He was acting like a class clown, but Ghost wasn’t believing in that. All that laughing and joking, it was almost impossible in this job. When all you could see was the dead, your voice was turning into a whisper.
It was sadness that consumes you.
"It would take a lot more to kill you, Johnny." Ghost's voice was always deep, but for some reason it deepened. Like he was sharing a secret. Almost a whisper.
Johnny's eyes shimmered under the dim lights. They looked like stars for a moment, then Ghost corrected himself. Not stars, explosions. Fireworks.
"Is everything okay? Why don't you sleep? Were you thinking about something?" Johnny was looking up to him from where he was sitting, and Ghost was looking down. He wanted to take Johnny's face between his hands and brush the stubble at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to crash into his lips, taste him with his tongue, just sweep it across Johnny's lips and inside his mouth, feel the hot wetness of his saliva around his own tongue, to get Johnny's tongue in his mouth and crowd him in, to be able to get a fistful of Johnny's stupid mohawk while kissing with a lust that would shame Jesus himself that he would have to look away, he wanted to touch Johnny's every bit on his back and kiss him from his neck to down his happy trail, he wanted to be able to touch at the tip of him with just only a finger and make him moan for more-
"I was thinking about you."
Rest is on ao3:
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Armin Week | Day 7 | SFW Prompts | “All eyes are on you, Mr Ambassador” OR Haircut
word count: 651
warnings: none
author’s note: armin & reader are each others’ love inerests but it’s still in its “crush” stage
@armin-week-2024
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
becoming an ambassador was a blessing and a curse for armin
the job was great and he had the chance to literally change the world, without using violent this time
you could say it even was his ideal job
what he really hated, though, was the publicity
good or bad publicity, armin didn’t care. he regretted becoming an ambassador mainly because he was never alone, he could never not watch himself when in public, it was gradually driving him insane
you were a great help however
what none of the ambassadors knew when they started this journey was how valuable a journalist/pr specialist would be for their team
i mean, you managed almost everything, where the speeches would be held, what they were going to say and how they’d say it etc
even though armin didn’t really need help preparing a speech, he definitely found your input essential to his work
the big day was steadily approaching. you had to break the news on paradis about how everyone would have to put in a lot of extra work, if they wanted the island to not only survive, but thrive again, armin was lost, the burden of having to force work on the people who’d lost their families, loved ones and houses only a few years ago was tremendous on his shoulders
“thank god you’re helping me with this speech y/n cause nobody else knows how to put this… and neither do i, if i’m being honest”
“it’s my job after all. can you imagine if i didn’t know how to put it either?” this sly remark earned you a smile from armin, a grateful smile
the day of the speech finally arrived and armin was as nervous as he could be. you’d even brought a photographer from marley to join your crew, just for this particular event
you could tell armin wasn’t doing so great. having to speak to the entirety of the island, his island, his home, was too much to ask
“how are we doing armin? all set?” you asked with a sympathetic smile, gently grabbing on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him
“well y/n, i’m about to lose it… but that’s me, that’s the cue to walk on stage, right?” his face was drained of colour
“yeap, that’s you! don’t worry though, remember i’ll be right behind the pillar on your left. we’ve practised lip reading so much, there’s no chance today can go wrong. you’re the best ambassador after all”
armin placed his palm on top of yours, where you were still holding onto his shoulder
“i’ve no idea how i’d do this without you” he said while pulling you into a hug that you didn’t expect
then he stepped slightly back, weathered a tiny bit and placed a soft kiss on your forehead THAT YOU NEVER EVER EXPECTED
“off you go then. good luck!” you quickly rushed him off to the front stage, trying not to make it too obvious that you were taken aback by his sweet gesture
armin walked towards the podium, eyes fixed on yours. he was supposed to start with salutations and then go on with the rest of his speech, but he was silent and fidgeting
until the photographer from marley decided to scream “all eyes are on you, mr ambassador” on top of his lungs you should’ve fired this guy when you had the chance
eyes on armin, you slowly mouthed to him “to the brave people of paradis…” while making a circling motion with your hand, urging him to begin with his speech
he quickly caught on, turning his head to face his audience
“to the great people of paradis island, i salute you today…”
-after the speech-
“yes, i know it was only a few seconds, but they lasted an entire life armin! don’t go round doing that again! it indicates that you don’t know what you’re doing”
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