#MAH WEE LAD...

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Mrs. MacTavish's Remedy 🍯

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For all my girlies who have trouble falling asleep 🫶🏻

Johnny himself had times where sleep seemed far away from him... fortunately, Mrs. MacTavish's remedy works wonders not only on loud brains but the soul as well <3

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Your feet patted against the hardwood floor as you made your way into your living room, where your boyfriend was left watching some film on the telly.

The bright light from the television stung in your eyes as you got closer, making an effort to let Johnny's form shield your retinas so they wouldn't go up in flames.

"Johnny..." you mumbled sleepily, dragging yourself around the couch. A soft smiled settled on his face as he watched you move, already opening his arms for you.

"What's wrong, bonnie?" He asked quietly, pulling you snuggly into his chest when you crawled into his lap.

"Can't sleep.." it came out slurred, sleep tugging at all of your limbs but never enough for you to slip into the sweet bliss of a dream.

"Y'want me tae just hold ya for a bit? See if tha' helps?" Johnny cooed, gently rubbing a hand along the length of your spine and over your shoulder blades. You nodded into his shoulder, tightly wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Mah sweet girl..." he whispered against your temple, his words melting deep into every crevice of your brain. Your body relaxed against him, your cheek pressed to his shoulder while your hands were pressed flat to his back.

The warmth radiating off of him and his large hands gently tracing shapes on your back usually put you to sleep in the blink of an eye, but today, for some reason, sleep was playing a cruel game with you, dangling a pleasant dream right in front of your face without ever letting you reach it.

You wanted to toss and turn, but Johnny's hold on you had you paralyzed. The trouble was that you didn't know whether it made it better or worse.

You could feel Johnny yawning more and more as the film went on and eventually came to an end.

The loud noises from various explosions and firefights gave you a headache, making you bury your face even deeper into his shoulder. You were glad it ended. Maybe it was the sole reason why you couldn't fall asleep in the first place.

The crease between your brows softened, and a quiet sigh slipped from your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Johnny was smiling down at you, albeit sleepily as he was exhausted himself, but he couldn't help admiring you.

"Let's get tae bed, yeah?" He spoke quietly, pressing his lips against your temple.

You nodded against his shoulder, sliding off his lap and waiting for him to take the lead.

With your fingers intwined, Johnny gently dragged you along to your shared bedroom. But to your surprise and slight confusion, he made a stop in the kitchen.

"Johnny, what..." you mumbled, your brows scrunched together.

He gave you a soft yet dazzling smile and beckoned you to sit on the counter. You were past the point of complaining, so with his help, you slid onto the cold stone.

"You said ya can't sleep... so I'm makin' you somethin' my mam used tae make me when I was but a wee lad." He added a joking tone to his voice, presumably to lighten your spirits.

It coaxed a soft chuckled from your chest, and your hands went up to rub at your sleepy eyes.

He pulled open the fridge, the bright light making you squint, and took out a carton of milk.

"You, mah bonnie lass, get the luxury of milk from a carton. Had to milk the cows maself back then." He winked at you playfully, making you roll your eyes in turn.

"Sure you did, love." You snorted softly, watching him as he poured the milk into a mug and popped it in the microwave.

The soft hum of the appliance continued on while Johnny rummaged through the cabinet, pulling out a small glass jar.

"Ah, there it is." He declared triumphantly, showing off the container.

"I call it ma sleep elixir. Brought it all the way from home fer emergencies like this."

A golden, gooey mass shimmered in the glass. It looked like a recycled marmalade jar, labeled with a sticker that read;

for sweet dreams when you're missing home ♡

A soft smile pulled at your lips as you recognized the handwriting that, undoubtedly, belonged to Mrs. MacTavish.

She'd sent Johnny, as well as yourself, numerous post cards and letters in the past, so that signature swirl in her words made it easy to spot.

Johnny gently pressed the container into your hands, busying himself with trying to take the mug out off the microwave without burning his fingerprints off- although, the tactical advantage of that wouldn't be the worst, he supposed...

You inspected the small jar, carefully turning it in your hands to watch as the sugary crystals shimmered in the dim light.

Your gaze fell back on the label, gently stroking over it with your thumb.

"This is your mum's writing, yeah?" You asked softly, adoringly looking over the heart that was drawn with such care you could feel the love radiating off of it.

"Aye," he replied with a smile, taking a spoon from one of the drawers, "Mam loves the countryside. She'd drag me and mah sisters tae farmers markets all the time. And she'd always stock up on this here honey. Swears it was the only thin' that knocked me out so she could get a break." He snickered.

You chuckled in response. You loved Johnny, but lord knows if you could've handled him as an energetic rascal.

Gently handing him the precious glass, you watched as he scooped a spoonful of the honey out of the jar and plopped it down into the mug of warm milk.

"Now," he began, slightly leaning on the counter, "we stir clockwise, 9 times precisely." The serious quirk in his brow made you break into a sleepy fit of giggles.

"You're brewing a potion now, are you?" You tilted your head with a small grin.

"I'll become a wizard in the woods if tha' means ya get some sleep." He winked, tapping the spoon on the rim of the mug.

The spoon was tossed into the sink to find and clean up the next morning, something you would've scolded him for if you cared enough right now.

"Careful now. Might be a wee bit hot." John smiled softly, handing you the warm mug.

Of course it was a cheesy souvenir with a giant Scotland flag plastered on it. It was well worn and loved from the, borderline unhealthy, amounts of coffee Johnny had consumed from it, but it was dearly appreciated.

It had a chip here and there and the print was starting to abide by the rules of the dishwasher.

Although it was just a cup, the fact that he chose his cup made you smile, and your heart flood with warmth.

You raised the mug to your lips, taking a sip and letting the warm and sweet liquid trickle down your esophagus and into your belly.

"This is some good honey." You hummed, tasting the floral aroma of the liquid gold.

You could imagine meadows upon meadows of wildflowers of all kinds and the soothing buzzing of all those busy little bees that worked hard to make their honey.

What would it like to be so free? To buzz around and occasionally rest on the soft petal of a poppy.

"Ah told ya, didn't I? Mam knows what she's doin'." He chuckled, gently caressing the outside of your thighs.

"Do you want some?" You offered him the mug, only for him to decline with a gesture of his hand.

"I'll be out on the floor if Ah have a sip of tha'."

"That would suck." You agreed, continuing to sip on the milk.

"Aye. Ya need someone to keep you nice 'n cozy after all." He smirked, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your head.

You giggled, the vibration against his throat sending a shiver down his spine.

"You're a wonderful cuddle buddy." At the warmth of his embrace your eyes began to fall shut.

"I'm glad ma services are to your satisfaction, my love." He joked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"'M tired.." you mumbled, resting your weight against him.

"Come on, bonnie." Johnny spoke softly, helping you off the counter, his mug a safe distance away from the edge to deal with in the morning.

His back was facing you as his hands stretched out behind him so he could guide you to your bedroom, your eyes feeling like they were glued shut.

The moment you slipped into that bed, everything that bothered you faded away.

You could swear the sheets felt softer than usual, your pillow was unusually fluffy, and as Johnny pulled the blanket over both of you, it was the perfect temperature beneath.

The window was cracked open for that bit of fresh air that made sleep that much more pleasant.

Despite Johnny's tendency to become a living furnace, he too, had the just the right amount of heat to keep you cozy but not too hot. Your face nuzzled into his chest gave you the perfect feeling of safety.

It felt like you were wrapped in clouds, basking under the sun, a nice breeze blowing over you with the taste of the sweet honey and the creamy milk still on your tongue.

You'd mentally thanked Johnny's mum for her remedy, something you couldn't wait to tell her on your next visit. Perhaps a thank you card for raising the love of your life would be in order as well.

With a contented sigh, your muscles relaxed and you sunk into the mattress. It was nice and quite, except for Johnny's loud breathing and the occasional snore, but the sound gave you a sense of comfort now.

Knowing that he was alive and breathing made you sleep much easier at night.

You opened one eye as much as you could and took a peak at Johnny, who was blissfully unaware and knocked out the second his head hit the pillow.

You smiled sleepily, gently rubbing your hand over his beating heart before pressing your lips to that same spot in a sweet kiss.

"Love you, Johnny." You mumbled, letting yourself finally slip away into a much needed rest.

The subconscious tightening of his hold on you let you know that no matter how many dreams you were apart, he'd always hear you, for your souls were intertwined and would find eachother every time.

Whether in this life or the next, nothing could tear the two of you apart.

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The CoD fandom is lacking fluff in my opinion, so I'm here to provide 😌🩷

Should I make a CoD tag list??? 👀

More of my works -> 💫

[thejohnlockedfemboy]

Can you imagine getting to be friends with John MacTavish?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He would be so handsy. Not in a suggestive sort of way, but just… manhandling you out of the way.

Steering you through doors with one big hand planted on your shoulder. Tugging you down to sit beside him.

Tackling you in a bear hug from behind after either of you come back from a dangerous mission. Giving you a friendly punch on the arm, elbow to the ribs, or ruffling your hair.

He’d maybe be overbearing, aye. Maybe a bit too zealous, always trying to cling to you, pawing at your uniform, plunking your helmet down onto your head in a war zone and yellin’ at ye to “get tha’ hell down, ye daft eejit!”

And then you taking a bullet for him. Without hesitation, because he’s the kind of man and brother-in-arms that you’d give your life for in a second and consider it a honor.

Blood seeping through your shirt. Johnny’s face going pale as he sees the way your eyes screw shut from the pain.

Johnny grabs you, drags you down to safety. Trying to apply pressure on the wound as you gasp out through gritted teeth.

“Och, jus’ hold still, ye going tae be fine, yer a tough wee lad, eh? Ah know, mate, it hurts, Ah’m here. We going tae get ye tae medical ‘n patch ye up, there’s a good man.”

And he holds your hand, gripping it near to crushing your fingers, as the rest of the team engages the enemy fire and forces them back, leaving you and Johnny safe to be evac’d.

He doesn’t let the medics push him to the side, refuses to let go of you. Says “Ah’m no’ leaving him tae be cut on by ye bloody butchers! He’s mah mate!”

Then back at the base, the doctor trying to explain that it’s family-only. And Johnny finally snaps, his voice breaking.

“HE IS MAH FAMILY!”

[karlachismylife]

Don't You Forget About Me

Since @/killerpancakeburger already had the most perfect Soap idea with this prompt, I decided to sit and think: what would be the situation where Soap actually didn't wanna kiss? Mission imposible?

Well, I might've found the solution.

CW: reader is Soap's mother (literally), so (potentially bad) Scottish yelling and scolding, very silly and unserious, not even pretending to be realistic.

(Title fom a song by Simple Minds)

You were going to give him a piece of your mind alright. He had always been a troublemaker, the sole source of white and grey peppered in your respectable hairbun, but the bare minumum you expected from your eejit of a son was to take your words seriously when you asked not to go to that mission. That one mission, mind you, out of every crazy and dangerous endeavour your Johnny got up to since before he could walk properly (although he skipped the phase entirely, immediately opting to run) - you always supported him and tried to be understanding.

You flicked his nose when he came home dirty after playing football in the rain and prepared warm dinner while he cleaned himself and washed his own clothes like a good boy. You sighed and ruffled what was left of his hair the day he returned with that moronic haircut, beaming like the sun itself. You slapped upside his head and scolded him before pulling out his favourite out of the oven after he was kicked out from whatever military base he tried to sneak into to be like his cousin.

Johnny could call you strict, scary and warn all his mates of you with a shit-eating grin all he wanted, but you were sure you had never given him a reason to believe you would worry over nothing.

"Dinnae fash yersel, Mam," was all you got after a hearfelt and arguemented plea to stay away from trouble this time, along with a kiss on a cheek, and there he went.

Not so fast, John MacTavish.

Of course he got his stubborness and determination to get whatever he wanted from you. The amount of times he ran off before he was of age just to try his luck and get enlisted? The clenching of his proud Scottish jaw as he pushed himself to do better, lift heavier, shoot sharper, run faster? Once Johnny was set on something, he went all-in. Too bad sitting still and quiet in school never got to be one of his priorities even for a week. But that's how you raised him, and if anyone could match him, it was you.

You were suprised how easy it was to bully and bribe your way into the base. Just an unthreatening older woman with some home-cooked pie, already sliced up for the sweet, sweet boys at the entrance.

Och, yer Ma' usually bakes these too? 'N' wi' some carrot? Ye should ask her fur a recipe, leannan, Ah will lea' ye mines sae we can exchange. Ah actually hae mah laddie right there oan th' base, he's a sergeant, aye, mah muckle laddie. Ah wanted tae surprise him wi' his fave', bit didnae ken tis sae secreteve 'ere… Mibbie ye could pass it tae him? Och but it'll get cauld 'n' nasty… Och, ye will let me in fur a few minutes? Well aren't ye th' sweetest wee jimmies. Yer Mams must be proud o' ye, Ah ken Ah'm, knowing such mighty lads are protecting us.

Breaching the first line of defence was a piece of cake - well, pie. The second went even smoother, no one paying attention to you as you simply floated along the perimeter, avoiding miscellaneous looks from busy officers and privates bustling about their day. Hiding in plane sight, not even trying to blend in - you minced in your old trusty shoes up to the big area with several aircrafts scattered around.

Aha. That's your goal. You adjusted your purse on your shoulder and moved to continue your way, when someone finally noticed your unwanted presence.

"Is that a... who the hell let a civilian in the landing zone? Oi! M'am! M'am, stop! M'am, you're not supposed to be here!"

Hearing someone's heavy steps picking up behind your back, you kept your steady stride for a few more moments, eyes scanning the vast plane of the zone, determined to find at least someone you knew - and they you hit jackpot. Loud thumping of helicopter blades, distant at first, grew rapidly, almost deafening at the point when someone's heavy hand grabbed your elbow.

"M'am, are you lost? It's dangerous here! DAN-GE-ROUS!" The officer yelled into your ear, probably both hoping to overpower the landing helicopter and thinking you were old, frail and deaf.

Such a naive lad.

That metal bird barely stopped chirping before you wriggled out of the officer's grasp and sprinted towards several tall figures unloading from the helo. Your target stood straight, big headphones denting his ruffled mohawk, already up for a trimming. He definitely heard the officer's loud yelling, turned around, curious as ever, and locked eyes with you - all laughter wiped off his face immediately, baby blues he inherited from you round and popping out of their sockets.

"Mam?! Wha' are ye doin'-" - "JOHN MACTAVISH! Dinnae "mam" me, ye reckless bampot! Ah didnae raise ye tae be a sleekit potatoe waving yer own mother off!"

You jumped away from the officer who almost caught up with you and used your purse to shield yourself from him, never losing pale and positively terrified and dumbfounded Johnny out of sight.

"Get awa' from me, ye eejit, that's mah son 'n' Ah'm talking tae him! Look at me, Johnny!" You finally reached him and tilted your stern face up, glaring at yout sheepish son. His eyes stopped darting around and snapped directly at you. Still a good boy, after all. "Dae ye hae any idea how worried Ah was? Come 'ere now or Ah will drag ye by yer scruff, Ah swear. Come 'ere!"

You reached up to cup hus face, noticing a fresh bruise and a split brow, your motherly heart aching, but still proud that your wee boy came back from a dangerous operation alive. With teary eyes, you tried to pull him in for a big forgiving smooch, but he finally unfroze and pulled back, slowly starting to go red in his cheeks - so his ears must have been burning for some time already. Still, you looked at him, outraged, and huffed, propping one hand on your hip.

"What? Ah wanntae kiss mah laddie!" You could see Johnny's face flush brighter, mortified expression cut into his pleading eyebrows. He shouldn't have been doing that, that nasty scar was bleeding hardeer, your poor wee boy.

"''ere?! Richt naew?!" Before you could even start scolding him for denying his own mother such a simple thing, someone else's rich voice cut in through barely suppressed laughter.

"Come on, Johnny, tha's no way to talk to your mother. Be a good boy 'n' give 'er a big kiss." Recognizing Ghost from your laddie's tales wasn't hard at all - you met his dark, hooded eyes and gave him a firm, grateful nod, which he reciprocated with a gruff chuckle.

Defeated, Johnny leaned down, sliding his headphones down to his neck, and didn't even hiss as you yanked him by his ear lower to give him a loud, loving smooch on his cheek.

On the way out they sourced four big lads to escort you. As if the whole army would be able to stop you if you decided to give your son a proper whooping.

[averagedemoenjoyer]

HI HELO could you do demo and sniper w a short significant other (like idk 5ft tall, or whatever you consider short) THHHAANK you

of course!! thank you for requesting this, i should start posting now since the school year has finally finished over here!!

demoman and sniper with a short s/o!!

(gender neutral reader)

demoman:

“hehe yer short >.3”

will 100% tease you for your height, but it’s lighthearted and comes from a place of love so don’t worry

however, if anyone else that isn’t him does that, he gets VERY protective.

and when i say protective, i mean loud and angry protective. he would say something like “aye? yer teasing mah precious wee treasure fur thair height? A’M GONNAE PUMPIN’ MURDURR YE-“

gives you piggy back rides when he’s sober (not while drunk tho, that will end badly)

gives you stupid pet names based on your height. stuff like “me little ant” and “teeny tiny leprechaun”

accidentally lays on top of you when he gets into bed sometimes and he apologises for a week straight afterwards.

he REFUSES to let you wear heels though since he knows how much they hurt feet sometimes (don’t ask how he knows, he just does) platforms are on thin ice

starts calling himself “big lad” at some point to tease you (again, lighthearted so don’t worry)

likes putting his hand on your head and pushing you down towards the ground while yelling “SHRINK” as a joke (based on true events)

sniper:

he loves resting his head against your head when he’s tired and needs attention

since he likes it when you guys are kinda level, he sits you up on a bench most of the time

he ALWAYS grabs stuff from high places for you, even if there’s a ladder/stool around

just like demo, if anyone teases you for your height, he gets protective. the difference being sniper is more quiet about it then demo is.

since he looks so old and you’re shorter than him, people often mistake him for your dad and it’s very embarrassing to explain that he is your boyfriend.

he likes randomly hugging you from behind, but you always notice him because of how tall he is.

he gets extremely flustered when you sit on his lap, but he likes it a lot.

he doesn’t like admitting it, but he loves being the little spoon. so when you cling onto his back like a tiny backpack, it looks very humorous.

he’s afraid of roller coasters so he kinda sees your height as an excuse to go on the kid rides at amusement parks.

he also likes carrying you around places since he finds you quite light

no silly petnames for you from sniper though, unless you REALLY BEG him to give you one. (or you start calling him silly petnames based on his height)

thank you for reading all the way through!! and just a reminder that requests are open, so make sure to read my pinned post to see what i will and won’t do!!

[thewolfisawake]

Balmoral’s thoughts on the Unseelie, the Seelie and their king 😁

"The Unseelie Court is mah hame. There are things t' love. Things t' hate. And all the things in-between. Ah may have bias but ah can't imagine being anywhere else. The best ah can say is that it is noisy. Life's going 'round til the morn and then some. And it's not just fae in our Court, witches, all manner of infernal and vagabonds of all sorts find their way here. Whether they find a home or find themselves bound...well, who's to say? But despite it all there's a peace even in the rough and tumble, there's an unspoken sort of ruling in the everyday and it makes it easier for ever--enough. Easier for enough folk."

"Ah havnae been to the Seelie in a long time--being sealed off an' all--but ah I do recall the time ah had accompanied the king to chatter about our relation. For a long time ah imagined it to be pure magic, real gorgeous sort. The Seelie is but it was so scattered and lonely feelin'. Windin' paths with nary a soul lest it be in a carriage. Their scheme so far from the palace, we roamed for a while before finding it. Far cry from the bustle of the Unseelie. Ah was disappointed if anything."

"As for the king. Ah havnae met the lad yet. At least who he is now. Ah doubt he'd remember but ah remember being present when the lovely Queen came by. At her side was a wee bairn that clung to her hip and under her skirt. His eyes cautiously eyeing us. Can't judge much with a barra, you know? But from what ah have heard, he's solid. Breaking their isolation, barring the glamored mortals, and so quickly grappling with the rulers of lands beyond. To some extent he's foolhardy but A've never been one to fault someone so firm on what he wants done. Can't wait to see what he's made of."

[flingmetothemoon]

"He may share basic traits with og Eggman but his way of presenting them is much different and I don't feel he captures the essence. He's still as carrey like as possible in design and presentation, even in the second movie."

That is one similar problem I do have with how Ben Schwartz portrays Sonic. Absolutely no ill-will against him at all, but there is one question I wanna know: Why does he feel the need to leach himself onto iconic blue 90s characters who already had their own stories and personalities (Leonardo from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Dewey Duck from Ducktales 2017 reboot and Sonic from the movies of course) when he's already a successful improv performer with his own shows where he can freely make as many jokes to his heart's content and when he can play new original characters in original TV shows (Jean Ralphio from Parks and Rec, Clyde Oberholt from House of Lies and F Tony Scarapiducci from Space Force)? Like go watch ROTTMNT Leo audio switches with Ben's other voices made by Galaxy_Cat on YouTube to see how those characters pretty much share the same vibes and personalities. XD

I remember reading about an interview Ben had about his obsession with video games and arcades and there was a part where he was called "An urban Peter Pan, he specializes in portraying young men who can’t or won’t grow up" and now I thought to myself "Huh... No wonder his versions of those iconic blue 90s characters whom he turned into his personal self-inserts won't grow up and stop making pop-culture jokes every time they open their mouths, (I know the Sonic sequel talked about him still needing growing up to do but... Ehh... We'll believe it when we see it for ourselves) because the voice actor is like that! Heck even his character from House of Lies has more serious moments than the self-insert hedgehog who's only Sonic by name despite him supposingly having bigger childhood trauma. Voicing Sonic was apparently his dream come true because he remembers when he played the first Sonic games when he was a wee lil lad, meaning his reason for turning Sonic into less like the Sonic we knew and loved and more into his hedgehog self-insert is basically "Cuz mah childhood, mah nostalgia lol" and I get it, I'm sure we all have some fond nostalgic memories of our childhood and all, but I also can't help but wonder to myself: Has this dude ever played Sonic games beyond the Genesis trilogy? I hope so cuz the Genesis Trilogy is seriously overrated nowadays! >.< (No ill-will for the classic aspects or those to like it either but it really does get more spotlight compared to the other Sonic aspects)

Not sure if you got my other ask before but I want to try again cause I feel like you might understand me, I really dislike the Sonic Movie, since not only do I feel it hardly relates to the games but I just dont like fart jokes and generic road trip hollywood movies but it bothers me to see MovieEggman being praised and having seen people saying he's the best version of Eggman?? that's not Eggman that's Jim Carrey

Yeah I honestly feel the same way, I think it's pretty generic and predictable as any live action movie where a human finds some animated little guy and then they have to go on an adventure that usually involves a road trip to escape/stop the bad guy. That doesn't appeal to me in any movie, so making it Sonic still doesn't make me any more of a fan.

If people don't mind the tropes and like the movie then I'm happy for them but personally I already knew it wasn't going to be my thing years back, when we found out it was going to be live action. I really don't think this series works in a live action setting, the Sonic universe and characters are so colorful, beautiful, and cartoony fun in a way that can't be matched in real life.

Also yeah to each their own as long as they aren't hating on other versions/designs but I really don't think jimbotnik is the best version, especially because I don't like him at all lol. He may share basic traits with og Eggman but his way of presenting them is much different and I don't feel he captures the essence. He's still as carrey like as possible in design and presentation, even in the second movie.

And yeah people have told me to be grateful because the movie has made more people like Eggman but there's thousands of people that only like jimbotnik exclusively and even hate on the og Eggman. And jimbotnik already has so much more fans, praise, fan art, fanfics, gay shipping, and ns4w than og Eggman has had in 30 years and ngl it stings.

I've seen a bunch of jimbotnik fans dissing og Eggman by calling him 'ugly' for his various features and also being fatphobic. It still bothers me that any other version didn't become anywhere near as popular as jimbotnik, no version of the character was so immensely popular and praised than the one version that's skinny and considered conventionally attractive. I know that plays a big undeniable part in it.

And him being more like carrey and less like Eggman was intentional, even in the second movie. They're using a big Hollywood actor and they know keeping his likeness in appearance and actions more than Eggman would make him appeal to more people. And it works because I've seen a lot of people praising it for being 'classic carrey' and a lot of the people that find him hot only think so because it's carrey. (which I really don't get sorry fjsjfnskgnskg)

I'm really surprised by how different jimbotnik both looks and acts than og Eggman, it's just wild to me that it's possible to like a version of the character for the exact opposite reasons than one does with og Eggman because they're so vastly different in a number of ways. I still feel like jimbotnik, especially with his look throughout most of the first movie, could've been a completely different character.

And then people assume I must like jimbotnik too because I've always liked og Eggman, but he doesn't really have anything in common with what I admire og Eggman for in design, personality, and actions. Even more so when it comes to attraction as well, as og Eggman caters to my exact type in men in multiple ways while jimbotnik is very far from all that for me lol. It's super awkward when people think eggfucker means I wanna fuck carrey... he's not even an egg lol

[forestshadow-wolf]

Blossoms of Love

Planes and Pain

pairing: soap/ghost

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, hanahaki

Ao3 link || Chapter 1 || Chapter 3

The next time he checked his phone the time read 0912, 8 hours left. Soap sat beside him, humming an unfamiliar tune, presumably some scottish song. They’d been sitting in comfortable silence, speaking whatever came to their mind in the current moment. Out of the corner of his eye he saw soap quirk his head to the side a little, a thought seeming to have entered his mind.

“‘Ave ah ev’r told ye ah used to own rats as a wee lad?”

“Don’t believe you ‘ave.”, his throat was rough and scratchy, but his interest was piqued; this was information he’d never known about the sergeant.

“Aye, ah begged mah parents for months, ah dinnae ken ah had an odd affinity for them. Anyway, they finally caved, but ya have ta get twa- er two or three, else they get sad.” it was clear that he was trying to keep it to ‘Ghost friendly’ words, the realization made his chest twinge. He gave a curious hum, ignoring his own discomfort; discomfort which he had no real justification for because the sergeant was just being his normal friendly self.

“Mah da said “yer responsible for their problems now, son.””, he said, imitating his father’s voice, which brought a chuckle to the lieutenant’s lips.”ah dinnae think ah’ve ever agreed to something so fast.” the smile in Soap’s voice nearly punched the breath from Ghost’s lungs. In an instant his chest was squeezing another cough out, that he just barely covered up by clearing his throat. Of course soap; being so close; noticed, even when price or gaz didn’t. That made his heart spasm just a tad, for no reason, because of course he noticed; he wouldn’t have made it into the 141 if he was so ignorant to not notice a disturbance right in front of him. He cleared his throat, ignoring the pain, and the concerned look from the man in front of him.

“Continue.” he was eternally grateful for his mask, hiding the way his lips twisted at distasteful red. Soap hesitantly continued after a moment, though he kept a worried eye on his masked face; which ghost pointedly ignored.

“Ah saved for months ta get them all tha’ best toys. First time ad had enough tae buy them anythin’ ah ran straight inta a shoppin’ shelf, wercked mah knee but ah dinnae tell anyone. Tae focused on mah rats, ya ken?” he chuckled at his own past clumsiness.

“Though you said it was from rugby?” ghost asked, amused.

“Aye, but ah also said ah fell, and a pre-141 op, and savin’ a kitten from a tree, and a few others, sae.”, the scot listed on his fingers.

“Why lie about it.”

“C’mon, L.T., you gotta be pullin’ mah leg if you think tellin’ folks ah got excited over some rodents is cooler than “ah saved a wee lil kitten because ah got a heart o’ gold.”” soap said with a chuckle. Well couldn’t argue with that logic.

The deep baritone sound of the scot’s laugh was a welcomed noise. Even if he could feel the spine of something stab into the back of his tongue, even as he dislodged the object from his throat; feeling the smoothness of something uniquely leafy. He knew if he were to open his mouth he’s spill pink tinged spit onto his already tainted mask, but even still he gave a surrendering noise to indicate his agreement.

He trapped the spiny leaf between his tongue and the roof of his mouth so he could swallow his mouthful with a twisted face, and not choke. He was acutely aware that he’s been quiet for a little too long and now he was getting that odd look again. He almost turned away, but soap already knew his condition, so he lifted the hem of his mask once more, before he could think about it too much.

He opened his mouth and let his tongue drag the thing out of his mouth, the sergeants eyes shot down to the exposed area. There was no doubt that there was still evidence of his predicament, suddenly he was very glad he was faced away from the other two men in the cabin. He removed the offending object from his tongue, held between two fingers, and brought it up so he could see. Oddly enough it wasn’t any type of petal that he found, and soap looked at it just as inquisitively at it; a mix of curiosity and slight horror on his face.

It was clearly the green leafy bit of some plant, long with one spine on it’s left edge, it was clear that it was only a piece of the entire thing. The tip of the spine and the jagged edge that should connect to the rest of it was edged in red copper. Upon closer inspection there was a single long thin pink tainted, lavender spindle littered in the center of the green.

“What tha…” soap drawled, softly and slightly horrified.

“Dunno.. Unless…” a flicker of something itched at the back of his mind. He flicked out his phone – still holding the leaf – he scrolled back down to that last text sent from G.R.S.

There was a tiny light od acknowledgement, but still he made an unconvinced sound; hoping it was just a one off situation. Soap reached for the device with interest, he handed it over easily. He could see the man’s eyes flick rapidly back and fourth as he speed read the passage.

“Ah think ah’ve head o’ this. Ah found a study on it when ah was gettin’ ready fer mah rats.” he said with hesitant recognition.

“You comparing your lieutenant to a smelly rodent now, sergeant?” ghost said in a hopefully playful tone, trying not to dwell on the new information too much.

“Ghost. This is serious. You need to tell price.” the scot said, not taking the bait. He sobered up quickly, dropping the weak attempt at distraction. The concern he saw stole his breath away, even as he knew it shouldn’t because the man would be just as concerned if anyone else was in his situation.

“It’s fine, sergeant. Probably just a one off chance.”

“And if it isn’t?” soap immediately rebutted.

“It is.” he said. Final, no more room for argument.

They lapsed into a slightly uncomfortable silence then, but only for a minute.

“Rats arenae howfin.” it was said quietly, an olive branch. They may have their disagreements but they were still mates, and a little argument wouldn’t change that.

“Wanna try again in english?” ghost accepted with his own light tone.

“They’re not smelly. Surprisingly clean actually.” he said back in a voice that could one could argue was pouty.

“Sure, rat expert - John Mactavish, whatever you say.” ghost chuckled.

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

if anyone want's a tag in the next part, send a reply so I know

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@checkerscharlie @halb-nichts @heyitsropi @trekkie-in-space @lavenderstem

[ink-on-the-brink]

Tips for writing accents

I made a list for these a while ago but I had to update a bunch of stuff recently so I thought I'd post it.

Accents below are: southern, Scottish, German, French, Russian, Boston and Australian

Note: these tips are only found through my personal expirence and research (which is always fairly limited) so if anything's weird I apologize

Southern accent

-

When writing anything ending in ing ALWAYS remove the g and replace it with a '

Ex: I was sitin' watchin' my game.

-

Replace to (not too or two) with ta

Ex: "Trying ta work is hard. Too hard"

-

When they have a strong accent, replace long I's with 'Ah'

Ex: "Ah was silent and Ah hated mah life"

Note: try not to change long I's in the middle of words (such as silent). Even if it is how it sounds in real life it just makes it too hard to read

Exception: You can change the long I sound in the middle of a word if it is a name.

-

Contractions everywhere. Ain't, can't, don't, all of them. Use them all. Use them when you're not supposed to! Such as with its, of and than. Instead of its write s' infront of a word, insted of of write 'a at the end of a word and instead of than write 'n at the end of a wod.

Ex: "s'rather nice outside'a town. Rather stay here'n inside"

Exception: any word ending with an a can be left alone when it comes to adding 'a at the end. So so you don't have to put kinda'a. You can just leave it as kinda. Same with 'n and words like than.

-

Dad is called pa and mom is usually maw

Ex: "mah maw and pa are at home right now"

-

Replace you with ya

Ex: "ya seem to be havin' trouble"

-

A southern accent is rather lazy, but not written in stone. Usually when a charecter gets upset their accent might get stronger but in the case of a southern accent it actually tends to get a bit weaker. The points it gets weakest at are wherever you have them speaking with the most emphasis.

Ex: 'ya are the lowest'a the low' would change to 'you are the lowest of the low'

Exception: ALWAYS follow the ing rule. Always. No matter what.

-

Howdy and Y'all are still very much used all the time. Y'all is how to address any group of two or more people and howdy is how to say hi 87% of the time.

-

Terms of endearment are used rather flipently. Sweetheart, darling, bo, partner, you get it. So unless they're being serious(and sometimes even then), it's good to use these terms. Also southerners use these terms even when they're being mean. Sweetheart (derogatory)

-

Any time you're making comparisons or exaggerations use stranger terms that stay with a southern theme.

Note: exaggerations tend to be turned into comparisons.

Ex: 'Thats thing's huge!" And 'That looks like crap'

turn to

'That thing's bigger'n a tornado in a cornfield!' And 'That looks worse'n a chicken in a fox house'

-

Scottish

Mom and dad are maw and da

-

Write me instead of my

'me da was a great man'

-

Instead of you write ye (for emphasis) or yeh (when relaxed). Also write yer instead of your.

Ex: "yeh've never seen me hair before?" Or "ye better keep yer damn trap shut boyo"

-

Follows the same ing rule as a sothern accent. Always get rid of the g and replace it with '

Ex: "We were drawing, writing and singing"

turns to

"We were drawin', writin' and singin'"

-

Men are lads and woman are lasses

"The lads and lasses are dancin'"

-

Little turns to wee

Ex: "she was a wee lass" or "just a wee bit more"

-

When you have anything with a 't contraction, keep the from half of the word and replace the 't with nnae

Ex: "can't, don't and isn't" turn into "cannae, donnae and isnnae"

Note: 'going to' also applied to this rule as gonnae

-

When ow is at the end of a sentence and it makes and oh sound, replace it with a.

Ex: "window, elbow and arrow" turn into "winda, elba and arra"

-

And, of course, there are a lot of random Scottish words and specific expression. The one's I have I'll list here, but I'm sure there is a LOT more.

Yer bums out the winda - you're not making sense

Backy - smoke, tobacco

Ball bag - insult

Bonnie - lovely, beautiful, sweet

Balloon - idiot

Bairn - child

Boggin - dirty

Crabbit - grumpy

Daftie - light insult

Bowfing - heavy insult, ugly

Steamin - drunk

Mink - gross person

Numpty - idiot (light insult)

Skelp - to hit lightly

-

German

W sounds are replaced with v sounds

Ex: "we are one team" turns to "ve are vone team"

-

Th sounds are replaced by z sounda

Ex: "that thing over there" turns to "zat zing over zere"

-

When at the beginning of a word, s sounds turn to sh sounds

Ex: "seashells are super small" turns to "sheashells are shuper shmall"

-

Y sounds turn to J sounds

Ex: "you know you like New York" turns to "jou know jou like New Jork"

-

French

Again Th sounds turn to z sounds

Ex: "that thing over there" turns to "zat zing over zere"

-

H sounds are silent and thus are replaced with '

Ex: "her hair is highlighted" turn to "'er 'air is 'ighlighted"

Note: there are still h's in the sentence but they are already silent so you shouldn't remove them.

-

Russian

Small i sounds should be replaced by an ee sound

Ex: "the little man had kittens and kicks" turns to "the leetle man had keetens and keecks"

-

Similar to a German accent, the w sounds are replaced by v sounds

Ex: "we are one team" turns to "ve are vone team"

-

Boston accent

Th sounds are replaced by d sounds

Ex: "that thing over there" turns to "dat ding over dere"

-

Another repeat of the ing rule, however this can be ignored liberally. So you can use it all the time, none of the time or only half the time and it still remains the same.

Ex: "We were drawin', writin' and singin'"

-

Another use of lot of contractions, however you don't want to make any new ones up here. Just use them whenever there's a chance to.

Ex:"I will not, but why can I not?" Turns to "I won't but why can't I?"

-

Australian

An Australian accent is mostly just slang words so if you're trying to write this I suggest you just look up a bunch of those words and use them. However I still have a few basic rules.

-

Long I sounds are replaced with oi.

Ex: "I think nice people are liars" turns to "Oi think noice people are loiars"

Note: when it comes to y's that make a long I sound, just put an o in front of the y

Ex: "why is it my time to cry" turns to "whoy is it moy toime ta croy"

-

Replace to (not too or two) with ta

Ex: "Troying ta work is hard. Too hard"

-

The ing rule is back. Replace that g with a '. And again, it can be used liberally. Sometimes, all the time or none of the time. Just depending on how thick the accent is.

Ex: "We were drawin', wroitin' and singin'"

-

And that's it! I hope this was able to help a few of you since having it all written down most defiantly helps me.

[nerv0usm3chanic]

"Well I'm curious about all three but I'd love to hear the Ma story for now!"

“Weeeellllll...since ye asked so niceleh.” Lucan moves to go take a comfortable seat and invites his visitor to do the same in the seat across from him. “Once upon a time, Lance an’ his brother Aidan lived in the big citeh Dublin - mind ya, big citeh is relative an’ ent th’ same as big places like New York. Anehwho, the two brothers went on a college venture ta Cork fer Spring Break. Tha’s when they went ta a wee bar in Tivoli an’ saw a gaggle o’ pretteh ladies gigglin’ o’er a few fanceh drinks.”

“One in particul’r caught Da an’ mah uncle’s eyes; a ladeh wit’ dark hair and lookin’ fer all th’world like she walked outta a magazine. Yeh, it was meh own Ma, Erin - Ah know, creepy thinkin’ mah cousin’s da coulda been mah own.” Lucan cringed and shuddered, pausing only a moment before continuing, “So, the two lads started competin’ ta get ‘er attention. Drinkin’ games, darts, flirtin’ an’ showin’ off. Boys spent all week tryin’ fer her affection. Wha’ really bought Ma’s affection was a simple promise ta come back an’ see ‘er on ‘is next school break. From then on, Lance had Erin’s affections an’ o’er the next couple years, ‘e courted ‘er proper ‘n asked ‘er ta marry ‘im.”

“A year later, a wee, screamin’ roll o’ baby fat came abou’ an’ eventually grew up ta be meh.”

[tribus-semitae]

"Mate the longest book I've ever read was a bloody manual on how to use and fix generators " She gave a bit of a cheeky grin slowly going back to her more cheerful self.

Still, thanks to his quick acceptance of the idea and a bit of a visual description of what was to await she was already excited to bring the lads over! Snickering she nudges him with her elbow while rolling her eyes. "Hey be nice ya both are absolute peaches in mah book...give or take~"

He really was looking after him, wasn't he? She wasn't really used to having people check on her, save for her foster dad but they haven't been close to each other for a few years. Mainly thanks to her habit of traveling all over the place. Scooting a wee bit closer she leans her head on his shoulder gently, keeping the bottle on her knee.

"Im alright mateee, all of fekers ya could lay dent it now are either dead or in prison....or being lowlives as always " she reassured him giving a small wink up to him.

There he was, she had a feeling he would understand where she was coming from. The way the 3 of them clicked with ease made her think that on some deep level, they were connected with something they all experienced. Maybe as kids, they would all be as good friends as they are today, but on the other hand, young blood was heated, she fucked up far too many times and wasn't proud of her teen self.

So now she was grateful that as somewhat experienced adults they could talk about this shit without burning something down.

"Nah I gotcha, ya explained it better than I could ever, shit ya sure ya ain't a poet or somethin'? " she teased a bit nudging his shoulder with her own. Yet, he hit the fact like a hammer hit the nail and she related all too well to his words. A soft snicker escaped her lips when he took her hand and swayed it, those small things would always melt her, make the walls come down as she leaned in the comfy seat.

"Yeaaah just gonna finish this beer with ya.....and maybe book flight back to Aussieland....ya two wanna come with me maybe?"

[mymelodyheart]

Highland Destiny Chapter 10 ~Spring Has Sprung~

"Ah, Jamie come in, come in...take a seat." Ned Gowan motioned with a wave of his hands as Jamie was ushered into his office by his secretary. "I'm so glad ye can come. I will try and make this as quick as possible."

Ned Gowan, Fraser's family lawyer, had called early Monday morning after the weekend of the ball, urging James Fraser to see him as soon as possible. 

"Ned, ye said it's an emergency?" Jamie shook the elderly man's hand before sitting down. 

Ned Gowan took some papers from his desk drawer and stacked them neatly in a row in front of him. "Aye, it concerns Château Cheval Blanc. I personally think ye should put off the sales of yer shares...weel at least for now until I can establish the validity of my theory. I have reason to believe that our mystery shareholder may soon surface. But before I proceed, I do have a question...do ye know or have ye heard of the name Jonathan Edward Randall? Or if by any chance your uncle mentioned the name in the past."

"Jonathan...Jonathan," Jamie's brow furrowed in concentration as he uttered the name. "Aye, uncle mentioned that name a few times when I worked in his winery as a young lad. An old foe he once said...set on destroying him...I believe that's what uncle said. I understand that this person has been deceased for some time."

Ned's eyes lit up and quickly leafed through one of the stacks of papers. "Hmmm, interesting ye should say that. Firstly, we have a couple of the late Jonathan Edward Randall's lawyers enquiring about yer shares, and I find that quite suspicious considering Randall is long dead. Secondly, not too long ago, we dug up some old business records from Frédéric de Marillac. And as it turned out, Jonathan Edward Randall was once his business associate and long-standing friend. They go a long way back when they were students in Oxford. From your statement, there is a high probability that Frédéric de Marillac had been buying the shares for Jonathan Edward Randall. We have found a copy of one particular shareholder agreement. This contract was especially drawn-up for de Marillac, meaning this did not apply to all shareholders. There are two paragraphs I find highly interesting in de Marillac's contract. First one is, it states here, he may assign a successor to his shares without the approval of the other shareholders and the second one states here that upon the death of the shareholder, the deceased shareholder stocks are to be bequeathed to the next of kin. Yer uncle must have been quite desperate to sign such a contract. Now, Jonathan Edward Randall's next of kin was Franklin Wolverton Randall or also known as Frank Randall."

His thoughts were on Claire and were only half-listening to Ned Gowan when Jamie suddenly sat straight up. "Frank Randall?"

Ned ignored the interruption and carried on. "Now Frank Randall died five years ago and left behind a widow. At the moment we cannot find any documents of the widow's name. It's as if her identity has been erased overnight. This should have been a public record, but we cannot find Frank Randall's marriage certificate. But we did find phone records of de Marillac contacting Frank Randall's former residence. But there are no records of that contact reciprocated. And last but not least, we were able to acquire a bank transfer statement with a substantial amount of money sent to de Marillac. And this money came from Jonathan Edward Randall. To summarise the hypothesis, the money transferred, we believe was used to buy the shares. And because of the agreement signed between your uncle and de Marillac, we have reason to believe that Frank Randall's widow is our elusive shareholder by default. She is Frank Randall's next of kin."

Dhia Claire!   Jamie was dumbfounded. "What is the probability that yer theory is correct? I thought the secret shareholder hold only 15% of the share."

Ned Gowan leaned back on his chair and smiled, looking satisfied with himself. "We found in some old records that the 15% share was under Frank Randall's name, making the probability of my theory very high, but I have a few people investigating and will confirm in the next few days. The good news is if the widow does surface, and we can prove that de Marillac's shares are legally hers, ye can make an attempt to buy it from her. With yer charm and popularity with the ladies, I don't think that should be too difficult for ye. So Jamie lad, what do you propose we do next once we have established the name of our secret shareholder?"

"Sell my shares to the secret shareholder at a fraction of the price, " Jamie answered, his face expressionless.

"What!?!"

..........

Claire got out of her car. She had been expecting the garden to be unkempt and over-grown, but instead, found a well-kept yard with arrays of wildflowers, herbs and spring flowers in full bloom. It had been three weeks since she was last at the cottage and it was on the night before she left for the St. Agnes Charity Ball. Claire had been staying at Joe's, and he was kind enough to let her stay in his apartment, considering he lived half the time at Gail's townhouse. He had insisted Claire stayed for as long as she needed knowing she wasn't in the right place to be alone in the cottage.

Ever since the night she walked away from Jamie, he had been continually trying to reach her via phone, messages, emails and sometimes through her friends. It took a lot of willpower not to succumb to his pleas, but Claire knew she needed the time and space for herself to heal and to sort out her feelings. She had been astounded at the force of her anger and intensity of her pain during that disastrous night. She knew she never wanted to feel that way again.

Geillis had been a blessing throughout the past few weeks. She had taken upon herself to take care of Claire's needs: retrieving a few of her clothes from the cottage and her car, admonishing Jamie for his stupidity and acting as their mediator. Geillis had found out the whole truth after hollering and shouting all sorts of abuse at Jamie when she came to the cottage. He had been silent, contrite and close to tears which was very much a far cry from the self-assured and cocky Jamie she knew from all the years she had known him. And of course, there was that headline news from the Daily Mail, much to the horror of Claire, plastered on the front page, DISTILLERY KING DITCHES FIANCEE FOR LADY IN RED. There were two photos under the headline. One was of a scowling Jamie dragging Annalise and another of Claire and Jamie kissing.  Bloody tacky journalistic piece of shit!  She had thought then.

"Claire, what do ye want to do? Ye cannae hide here forever. Do ye love him?" Geillis had asked one evening over takeaway dinner.

"Oh, I do Geillis. I wouldn't be in this mess if I didn't. But I'm scared... too scared..."

"Och come here." Geillis had gathered Claire to her arms. "Listen, hen, it's reasonable to be scared, but runnin' away wilnae help. I've known Jamie since he was a wee laddie. Ah ken he'd done a lot of stupid things in th' past, but he'd done a lot of good too, like puttin' a lot of money in St. Agnes' restoration an' other stuff like that. He's got a big heart, an' th' media hae portrayed him a playboy. Sure he had other women in th' past, but ah have ne'er seen him in such a state before. He's in love wi' ye, Claire, an' it breaks mah heart that both of ye are sufferin' like this."

Claire had given Geillis' words a lot of thought, and she knew she had to confront Jamie sooner or later. So it was on one untypical warm spring day, on the way to the garden centre when she decided to stop by the cottage. It was on the spur of the moment decision as if some force of nature was guiding her. She was dressed in jean shorts, a white sweatshirt with a Union Jack print and white sneakers. She had been planning on taking a walk in the open fields after plant shopping. 

The cottage was tranquil when she arrived, and she didn't see Jamie's vehicle or noticed any presence. She had quickly gotten out of the car before she could change her mind but not before taking an A4 size envelope she meant to give to Jamie from the compartment. She knew Jamie had stayed in the cottage all that while and he had told Geillis he will only leave if Claire wished it. Secretly, Claire was glad he stayed. 

Walking through the front garden, she was amazed at how beautiful it had turned out to be. It had been her plan ever since she arrived to plant some medicinal herbs and wildflowers and put a trellis on the cottage exterior wall for some climbing plants. It seemed someone had already done the job for her.

Inside the cottage, everything was spic and span, and in every room, there was a vase with a bouquet of wildflowers in assorted colours. She was just placing the envelope on the coffee table in the living room when she felt a presence from the doorway. She turned around and saw a very stunned Jamie standing there. Claire didn't even hear him come in.

"Sassenach..." His voice was almost a whisper. Jamie's hair was a tad bit longer and curlier from his usual wavy locks, and he had several days old beard, making him look like some medieval Norse warrior. He was wearing a black shirt, and grey sweat pants and his skin was very bronzed, probably from working in the garden or running. 

"Hi, Jamie," Claire stammered, "I'm sorry for coming unannounced...I was just driving by..., and I thought I'd stop and...I didn't see your car, and I thought ..."

Jamie took a few steps forward as if to reach out but stopped himself midway. "Claire, what are ye talking about? This is yer home," he said softly. He then ran his hand through his hair, quite unsure what to do next, he took a deep breath and muttered, "Christ Sassenach I've missed ye so much. Would ye mind verra much if I kiss and hug ye?" His eyes were full of yearning, but he was very cautious.

Looking at his beautiful deep blue eyes, all doubts seemed to dissipate. "No, I don't mind Jamie but..." Before she could finish her sentence, Jamie had Claire in his arms, kissing her with so much tenderness. The kiss was not one of seduction, nor of demand. It was a kiss full of longing and outpouring of love. Claire gave in and put her arms around his neck as a single tear ran down her cheek. He smelled of sweat, fresh air and tasted of mint, and she loved the feel of his stubble against her skin.

"Oh Christ Claire, I'm so verra sorry for everything," Jamie murmured in between air. "I don't ever want to lose ye again. So so sorry..." He rained kisses all around her face before kissing her deeply once again.

As his hands wandered up from under her sweatshirt, Claire stopped him. "Jamie, please..." She gently placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him. Like his, her breathing had become shallow. Although she didn't want the kiss to end, there were still a lot of unanswered questions.

Confused, Jamie searched her face. "Don't ye want me anymore, Sassenach?"

"Jamie, that's not it. We need to talk. We can't just start from where we left off as if nothing happened..."

Still dazed from the kiss, Jamie managed to regain control, "Aye, that's true...come we'll take a seat." Without letting go of her hands, he led her to the sofa. He turned to face her and sighed. "Look Sassenach, everything I've ever told ye was true, but I admit I omitted some parts of the whole story...and as for Annalise, I never told ye about her because the last time I was with her, it was almost 9 months ago. I'm not proud tellin ye this, but our relationship was never one ye can really call a relationship. Geillis must have told ye the whole story surely. And also, I was going to tell ye on the night of the ball about Frisealach, but Annalise happened. I suppose ye know already I own the distillery."

"But why didn't you tell me you owned the distillery? I asked a few times about your job, and you always came up with some feeble answer, such as working in the administration. I suppose that's part of your work, so I guess there's some truth to it. And I don't even know where you live...you only spoke of your family home, but that's a couple hours away from here. I don't suppose you travelled every day from Lallybroch to Inverness."

"I don't know Sassenach why I never told ye the things I should have. There are a lot of things I should have done and not done, but ever since I laid eyes on ye, I haven't been thinking clearly. I haven't been myself. After we made love for the first time, I couldna bear to leave yer side, and before I knew what was happening, I just slotted into yer life. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to be with ye. Before meeting ye, I lived in a luxury apartment in the town centre. Aye it's posh, and it has everything, but it has no soul. I never felt at home in it. With ye here, it's the first time I've ever felt at home outside Lallybroch." 

Claire gave him a mock warning look. "Jamie, are you trying to charm your way out of this?"

Jamie smiled and took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. In a serious tone, he answered, "No. I promise you it's the truth. It's like I'm under yer spell and, to be honest, I'm only too happy to remain there."

"How about those string of women in the papers, internet and magazine? I saw photos of you with different women each time..."

"Christ Sassenach, do ye really think I slept with all of them? If I did, I wouldna had time to run my companies. It's a marketing ploy to be seen with the right people and to introduce my whisky in Europe and truth be told, I hated every moment of it. I dinna care for a celebrated lifestyle. Everything about it was very superficial, and ye have to be mindful all the time of what ye say in public. That's no easy thing for me - I grew up in a family that says their mind a lot. No Sassenach, it wasn't for me."

"So, what do you want of me? From us?"

Jamie got off the sofa to kneel in front of Claire. Then taking her hands in both of his, he looked into her eyes. "Claire, I want to be with ye. I have never wanted anyone as much as I wanted ye and I promise there'll only be truth between us." His voice cracked, and his eyes turned to a darker hue. "Ye see Sassenach, whenever I look at ye, my heart starts to pound, when for years, I dinna think it beat at all. I dinna ken what was missing in my life until ye came and filled in the holes and took away the emptiness. And when you're not by my side, the loss is unimaginable. The night I carried ye out from St. Agnes and looked down upon yer face, I knew I was ruined for life. Totally, utterly ruined. I can't be good for anybody now, except for ye. What I'm trying my hardest to say is, I love ye, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. And I am scairt because ye have my heart now in yer hands."

"Jamie.."

"Sssh." He placed a finger on her lips. "Sassenach, may I kiss ye?" Jamie didn't want to hear what Claire had to say in fear she may not feel the same way. Without waiting for her to reply, he pulled her tight against him and kissed her softly, one hand behind her neck as his thumb caressed a sensitive part just under her earlobe. She tasted of warm honey, and her skin as soft as the petals from the flowers. "Claire, will ye stay with me tonight?" he asked hoarsely.

The spell broke when Claire was reminded of her plans for that night. "Oh Jamie, I can't tonight...I've already made arrangements..." Although rattled by his confession, she wanted to stay, but this time she didn't want to rush things between them.  One baby step at a time!

Jamie tried to hide his disappointment, and gave her a smile instead, not wanting to rock the boat. "Are ye going out with Geillis?" he asked.

"No, I'm meeting up with Tom tonight." Claire felt him stiffen and gave him an apologetic look, knowing that both men had some sort of disagreement.

"Oh! Are ye seeing him...I mean is it a date?" Jaime was no longer smiling, but he kept his hold on her.

Claire reached out to touch his face and sighed. "No Jaime, it's not like that. It's just for a couple of drinks. I promised him a few days ago that I will see him. And then I have some things I need to do for Joe...medical kinds of stuff."

Feeling slightly heartened, Jamie asked in a hopeful voice, "Errm, Sassenach, can I see ye tomorrow?" His finger was tucking a lock behind her ear.

"How about lunch before I go to work tomorrow...that's if you're not too busy being a boss?" Claire asked, good-humouredly. "I start work late...we have a few shift changes this week."

Thinking that lunch would be a longer wait, he suggested an alternative. "How about breakfast? I will bring it up to ye, so ye didna need to dress." Jamie attempted a wink before giving her a suggestive smile.

Claire laughed. "Alright breakfast then but not too early...I was planning on sleeping in. I'm staying at Joe's apartment. You remember where he lives?"

"Aye." He nodded.

"Oh by the way, before I leave, this is for you." Claire took the brown envelope from the coffee table she had earlier and placed it in Jamie's hand.

"Sassenach," he said, giving her a suspicious look. "This is not a goodbye letter, is it?" He frowned as he weighed it in his hands.

"No Jaime." She gave him a lingering kiss, telling Jamie with her own lips how much she loved him too.

.........

It was probably not a great idea to meet Tom at the Scotch & Rye Pub. It was Saturday, it was loud, it was teeming with employees from Frisealach and Laoghaire MacKenzie was there. Most likely, Jamie could walk in any minute soon. They found an empty high table near the entrance and quickly took it.

"Claire, what would you like to drink?" Tom's soft voice broke into her contemplation.

Distracted, she replied, "Oh, a glass of dry white, please." She had been thinking of what Jamie said earlier in the afternoon.

Claire watched as Tom made his way to the bar. She saw Laoghaire approached him at the counter, smiling sweetly at him as she placed well-manicured painted fingers on his arm. She saw her opened her bag as she continued to chat with him and took a few pound notes from her purse to give to the bartender.

Claire smiled as Tom came back with their drinks, but her smile quickly faded away as she saw Laoghaire was right behind Tom. "Claire, the drinks are from Laoghaire, she says it's a truce and apologies offering."

"Oh! Well then, thank you, Laoghaire, that's very kind of you!" She raised her glass to her. "To truce and forgiveness." Her heart warmed a bit for the girl, but she still felt slightly uneasy about her mannerism.

"Och think nothin' of it. Anyway, I hope ye both enjoy yer date!" Before Claire could protest its not a date, she had turned around sauntering towards the Frisealach employees' table.

Once alone, Tom revealed, "She's a funny girl her. She asked me a week ago, here in the pub, if I fancied ye. I told her it was none of her business." He leaned forward and in a lower voice, he continued, "Stay clear away from her, Claire. She might not seem to be the brightest, but I can't help but feel apprehensive whenever she's around. I think she's a bit of a gossip." 

Claire laughed nervously, taking a big gulp of her wine, trying to dismiss the warning. "Don't worry. I think she's just young and full of mischief."

"Don't ye want to find out Claire?"

"Find out wot?" She took another sip of the wine and grimaced at the taste.

Tom leaned forward and smiled at her. "Whether or not I fancy ye?"

Claire thought he had a beautiful smile. "Well, do you?" she asked boldly. Suddenly Claire felt relax and loose-tongued. She stood up from her high chair to lean forward to remove a fluff off Tom's hair when suddenly she felt wobbly.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!   Feeling the room was spinning out of control, she attempted to sit back but instead ended up slipping into the darkness.

..........

Jamie was just walking into the pub when he saw Claire swayed precariously as she held onto the high table. Before she could fall and Tom could react, he caught her in time before she hit the floor.

He shot Tom an angry look as he propped Claire's head with his hands. "How much has she had to drink? Didn't ye think she might have had enough?"

"She's only had one glass, and she drank it too fast," Tom snapped, as he kneeled down to check Claire's pulse. People were gathering already, and he knew Claire needed air. "Listen, Fraser, I'll deal with this. I'm a doctor, and I'll make sure she gets to the hospital. Go and join yer friends."

Jamie was lifting Claire up already. "She lives with me, so she's practically like my wife, so back off Tommy," he growled, determined not to relinquish his hold. "I'm taking her, my car is just outside."

Unperturbed, Tom let Jamie carry Claire as he held the door open. "I'm coming with ye."

"Suit yersel'"

..........

Both men drove in silence as they headed to the Northern Royal Infirmary. Tom had called Joe and the hospital in advance as Jamie laid Claire in the passenger seat. When they finally got there, they were greeted by Gail, Joe Abernathy's girlfriend, who was the doctor on duty, and Claire was immediately put onto a wheeled stretcher and taken away.

Seeing the concern on both the men's faces, Gail guided them to the waiting area. "Listen, boys, it's probably not serious. Claire has been under a lot of stress, so it's probably just the repercussion rearing its ugly head. Wait here, please. We'll do some test, and I'm quite sure the results shouldn't take very long," she said, smiling warmly.

Quite contrary to what Gail said, both men waited two hours.

When Joe finally arrived in civilian clothes, Jamie and Tom were sat at opposite ends of the waiting area. He had just come out of the operating room when he heard the news about Claire and immediately went to see the doctor attending her. After reading the initial results, Joe volunteered to relay the report to Tom and Jamie. As soon as he appeared in the waiting area, both men stood up and were surprised when they saw he was accompanied by two security guards and two policemen. Joe liked both men, but his main concern was Claire at this very moment.

"Tom, Jamie, we have the result from the initial tests." His voice sounded stern and very professional. "But before I can reveal anything, I want to ask... who was with Claire when she blacked out?"

Tom raised a hand. "I was with her, and we were both on our first drink. She drank the wine rather quickly, and I was surprised that she seemed tipsy all of a sudden," he explained.

Joe closed his eyes before making a formal statement. "We have found traces of Ketamine in Claire's saliva and urine test. Ketamine is also known as Date Rape Drug, and we have a very strong suspicion of an attempted sexual assault." Turning to Tom, he proceeded, "I'm so sorry, Tom, I need to have you detained until further results come in..."

Before Joe could finish his sentence and the police could react, Jamie, with his hands clenched and his face dark red with fury, threw a punch at Tom Christie's face sending him sliding across the hospital floor and knocking him out cold.

Joe had also wanted to tell Jamie that Claire was pregnant, but he guessed it could wait later.

[deltasilver64]

Pokémon Go the FUCK to  Sleep

Narrated by the Scottish Pokémon Trainer

The pursians nestle close to their meowths,

The wooloo ‘ave laid down with the mareep.

You are cozy and warm in your bed, mah deary.

Please go the fok to sleep.

Te windows ae dark in de town, lad.

The wailords huddle doon in the deep.

I'll read you one very last book if you swear

You'll go the fok to sleep.

The braviary who soar through the sky ae at rest

And the creatures who crawl, run, an creep.

I know you're not thirsty. Thas bullshit. Stop lying.

Lie the fok down, mah dahlin’, and sleep.

The wind whispers soft through the grass, laddie.

The rattata, they make not a peep.

It's been thirty-eight minutes already.

Arceus Christ, what the fok? Go to sleep.

All the wee lads from daycare are in dreamland.

The froakie has made his last leap.

Oh shag off, you can't go to the bathroom.

You know where you can bolt auf? The fok to sleep.

The noctowls fly forth from the treetops.

Through the air they soar and they sweep.

The hot, crimson rage fills my heart, love.

Aye cunt, just shut ye shite an sleep.

The litleos and the pyroars are snoring

Wrapped in a big, snuggly heap.

How come you can do all this other damn shite

But you can't lie the fok doon an sleep?

The seedots slumber beneath the earth now,

And the crops that the farmers will reap.

No more questions, this interview's over.

I've got two words for you, ya wee baby: foking sleep.

Raikou reclines in the Johto mountains.

The spearow has silenced her cheep.

Fok your stuffed bear, I'm not getting you shite.

Close your eyes, cut ye crap: sleep.

Sunflora doze low in the meadows

And high on the mountains so steep.

My life is a failure, I'm a shitty-arse trainer.

I need an Irn Bru, and you need to foking sleep.

The giant heatmor of Unova are snoozing

As I lie here and openly weep.

Sure, fine, whatever, I'll bring you some Moo Moo Milk.

Who the fok cares? You're not gonna sleep.

This room is all I can remember.

The furniture gash and cheap.

You win! You escape, you run down the hall

As I nod the fok off and sleep.

Bleary and dazed I awaken

To find your eyes shut, so I keep

My fingers crossed tight, as I tiptoe away

And pray that you're foking asleep.

We're finally watching our movie.

Potatoes in the microwave: "beep!"

Oi cunt, goddamnit, you've got to be shitting me.

Go the fok back to sleep!

[localscissors]

When Life Gives You Genes....

...You ignore them, because you don’t even wear jeans.

Alright, here’s a oneshot for my Triplet de Spell AU! This is response to an ask. @pilyarquitect actually already wrote this scene with her oneshot, but I really wanted to expand on it and show specifically what Scrooge did after, but I had to rewrite the last half of her fic from Huey’s perspective for it to work. I really suggest you check her fic out too though because it has some awesome stuff that’s not included here. Plus, it’s told from Louie’s POV, so yeah, that’s always a plus.

Huey sat between his brothers, head down and hands clasped. He could feel Scrooge’s gaze boring into them but he refused to look up.

Scrooge had called them up to his office for a reason, and by the way he was glaring Huey could only assume that it was because he finally found out their true identities.

He wanted to think of a way to escape if things took a turn for the worst, but all he could think about was what Scrooge might do to them. Will he take away their magic? Lock them in one of his vaults? Leave them for dead or worse, force them to reveal where Aunt Magica was hiding?

His spiraling thoughts were interrupted by laughter, loud and not fitting the situation at all. Huey looked up and saw Scrooge doubled over, laughing at their terrified expressions.

“Heheheh! Ooh boy, ha! Oh lads....” he calmed himself down and straightened with a smile. Huey has never seen that expression directed at them before. It was a smile Scrooge used with Della and Donald, but never toward them. “I have to be honest, when you came to the manor I didn’t believe you were mah nephews.”

Huey was still too startled by the sudden change of mood to say anything, but Dewey wasn’t. The blue brother crossed his arms and retorted, “Oh gee, really? You were so welcoming I didn’t even notice.”

Scrooge winced. “Ah, yes. I admit I’ve been a little cold to ye, but you’ve got to understand you’re not the first ones claiming to be a long lost relative. I had to be certain...” Scrooge reached beneath his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. “So I asked my top scientists to do a DNA test.”

Ice shot through Huey’s veins. “A what?”

They didn’t have DNA. They were Magica’s creations—not real ducks. Made of magic. Just what kind of results did they receive?

Scrooge continued on, oblivious to his thoughts. “Just a DNA test to see who your true relatives are.”

“And.... what did it say?” Louie asked.

Scrooge held the paper in his hands gingerly, like the writing itself was treasure. “That yer me nephews, Della’s wee lads. We’re family!”

“WHAT??” They exclaimed.

Huey couldn’t believe it. It made no sense! They didn’t HAVE any DNA! Scrooge must be tricking them, but he brandished the paper proudly so that Huey could see the results clear as day.

There must be an explanation. Magica must’ve done something, or changed something, but how?

Huey’s mind was reeling, and Scrooge was still beaming. He had to say something or else Scrooge would get suspicious. But what could he say when he could only think about how wrong paper was?

“Uncle Scrooge,” Louie started, saving them from suspicious silence. He stepped forward and, with an expression that was unnaturally genuine for him, smiled. “...I’m glad to be home.”

Scrooge chuckled and pulled the three in a hug. Huey forced himself to return it. “Ah am too, lad. I promise you, I’ll be the best uncle.”

Huey cringed, guilt pooling in his gut despite himself. Scrooge must’ve sensed that not all of them were quite so comfortable with the hug because he let them go and knelt down to their level.

“I want to show ye something. This,” he reached under his collar and pulled out a necklace, “is mah number one dime, the first dime I ever made. I built my fortune on it and I hope we can build our trust on it as well.”

He grabbed Huey’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “We’re family now. No more secrets between us.”

Huey nodded numbly. Louie stepped between them and held Scrooge’s hand. “Of course. Family always come first.”

Scrooge smiled and handed the paper to Dewey, who looked like he was about to laugh and vomit at the same time. “I’ll be off then, give you boys yer space.

He hobbled out the door and closed it behind him, leaving the boys alone in his office. It was another display of trust, because normally his office was off limits.

Scrooge had shown them the dime. The dime, it was so close, just within their reach, inches from Huey’s face. They could steal it. Cut the cord and take it from his neck. It would be easy.

“What does this mean?” Dewey asked, staring at the paper like it simultaneously held all of his worst fears and greatest hopes. “Are we....”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Huey swiped the paper and shoved it in his jacket pocket. “We know where the dime is, so we stick to the plan.”

Louie shook his head. “What?? Are you really gonna ignore that? You heard Scrooge! We’re not—“

“Not what? Magica created us, Louie. We’re not anything! We were made to do one specific purpose, and that’s it. She must’ve added Della’s genes to the spell, or used some sort of organic matter, or....”

“Do you know of any spells that do that?” Louie asked.

“No.... but we can ask her. After we steal the dime.”

“I can’t wait that long!” Dewey shouted. “I want to know who my real family is now!”

“Aunt Magica is our real family!” Magic exploded out of him, filling every corner of the room as the lights flared red and abruptly sparked out. His brothers shrunk back, stricken into silence by the outburst. Huey so rarely lost control of his magic like that.

Huey faltered too, looking just as surprised, and then rolled on with equal intensity. “Here’s the plan: we’re gonna steal the dime tonight. While Scrooge is asleep we’ll sneak in and cut it off. And then we’ll give it to Magica, and she’ll regain her powers and finally be proud of us because that’s the plan. That’s always been the plan. This—“ he briefly pulled out the paper “—doesn’t change anything.”

Huey marched past them, through the doors and to the hall, leaving no room for argument.

[jargals-quarters]

Meet the Character:             JARGAL HARAGIN

► NAME ➔    “The name’s Jargal!”

► ARE YOU SINGLE ➔ “Aye. Fer now.” -chuckles quietly-

► ARE YOU HAPPY ➔   “Been gettin’ paid, been’ travelin’ tae places ‘n havin’ fun with companion o’ mine. So, aye, I’m ‘appy! Ain’ got much tae complain ‘bout.”

► ARE YOU ANGRY ➔  '’What’s tha fuckin’ point o’ askin’ this? I already told ya that I was ‘appy.’’ -he puts on a look of disbelief, shaking his head from side to side.-

► ARE YOUR PARENTS STILL MARRIED ➔   “I’d like tae think so, yeah. Been a few moons since I last seen ‘em. They been together fer thirty-some years, I don’ think they’re gonna be gettin’ a divorce anytime soon.’’

NINE FACTS ––– ☼

► BIRTH PLACE ➔ “Born ‘n raised on tha Steppes of Azim. Don’ ask me ‘ow I got ‘ere. Tired o’ tellin’ that story.”

► HAIR COLOR ➔ -he pauses briefly, trying to think of a word to describe the color of his hair.-  “Beige...?”

► EYE COLOR ➔ “.. Why don’t ya come closer ‘n see fer yerself?” (Red)

► BIRTHDAY ➔ “18th day of tha First Astral Moon. Not much time left until that! I’ll be twenty six.”

► MOOD ➔ “Excited. ‘bout tae go out ‘n grab a few drinks with tha lads after this, ya know.”

► GENDER ➔ “What’s it look like tae ya?” (Male.)

► SUMMER OR WINTER ➔ “Summer, of course! .. Who tha fuck likes tha cold? If ya like tha cold, then ya have a problem.” -Jargal chuckles enthusiastically.-

► MORNING OR AFTERNOON ➔ “Tha afternoon! .. That’s when tha hangover goes away.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE ––– ☼

► ARE YOU IN LOVE ➔ “. . .” -he waves a dismissive hand-

► DO YOU BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT ➔ “.. Hmmph. Nay, not really. I think there’s a word fer that — infatuation, yeah? Takes more than just a look tae really fall in love with someone.” 

► WHO ENDED YOUR LAST RELATIONSHIP ➔ “T’was me. Too much trouble.”

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN SOMEONE ELSE’S HEART ➔  “Aye. Don’t ask me ‘bout the amount o’ times I did that.”

► ARE YOU AFRAID OF COMMITMENT ➔ -he shrugs dismissively- “.. ‘S rare that I commit, but I ain’ afraid of it.”

► HAVE YOU HUGGED SOMEONE IN THE LAST WEEK ➔ “.. Aye.’’ -Jargal refuses to continue.-

► HAVE YOU EVER HAD A SECRET ADMIRER ➔ “Many of ‘em! .. Hard not tae admire such a handsome man, don’t ya think...?’’ -he puts on a wide grin!-

► HAVE YOU EVER BROKEN YOUR HEART ➔ “Yer smart enough tae figure that one out on yer own!’’ 

SIX CHOICES ––– ☼

► Love or lust ➔ “Each one has its place, though I’d ‘ave tae go with a healthy mix o’ both...”

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔  “Lemonade. Sweeter, more refreshin’. What an odd question.”

► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Dogs! Cats are disloyal creatures. I ‘ave enough o’ those in my life... ” -he snickers.-

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔  “I don’t get why I ‘ave tae choose between those two things...”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “What ‘bout a wild night out, ‘n then a romantic night in...?”

► Day or night ➔ “Night! That’s an easy one, mate. Windin’ down after a long, hard day at work is tha best part, don’t ya think?”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS ––– ☼

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Aye! .. All the time, back when I was a wee lad. Me an’ my lil’ brothers, we would sneak out at night, up tae no good ‘n all that. I’d keep gettin’ caught ‘cause I was so big ‘n tall!  .. And ‘cause o’ that, mah brothers would keep gettin’ caught, too. Over tha years, I got better at it...” -he keeps himself from continuing his story.-

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “I don’t really remember.’’ -he gives a sidelong glance.-

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Many, many things..”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Nah! Got a ship of mah own, a loyal crew, lots o’ friends ‘n riches. Why in tha hells would I want tae disappear?” -he shakes his head, a look of disbelief spreading across his face.-

FOUR PREFERENCES ––– ☼

► Smile or eyes ➔ “A pair o’ cold eyes ‘n a piercin’ gaze... ”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Shorter! .. Not that I could find me someone taller than I am. Hah, hah!”

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  "Both. If yer pretty as hell, but talkin’ tae ya feels like talkin’ tae a brick wall, then we ain’ gettin’ along. Ya can also be as smart as ya want — if ya don’t look at least decent, we ain’ gettin’ along either!“

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “I move around a lot.” -There’s a brief pause. A few moments later, he realizes that he has given this question too much thought.-  ‘’Would be nice tae have a stable relationship, but mah line o’ work doesn’t really allow that. Hook-up it is, hah!’’

FAMILY ––– ☼

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “Aye, we get along well. I mean, mah parents raised me well, an’ mah brothers were just like me. I don’t get tae see ‘em as much as I used to, but that don’t mean we don’ get along! I try to visit ‘em fer at least a moon every cycle.”

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “Naaah! I kno’ people who ‘ad it much worse than I did.”

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ -he chuckles, shaking his head from side to side.-

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Been kicked out of a couple o’ taverns... ” -he pauses to reconsider this question.- ‘’Ya kno’ what? Let’s not get in tae this.’’

FRIENDS ––– ☼

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Nah! If I hated ‘em, they’d fuckin’ know so, and they wouldn’t be mah friend!”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔  “.. Well, nah, not all of ‘em...  I know a lot o’ people.”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Hah! That’s an ‘ard one. Swargeiss, mah right hand man, has been to hell ‘n back fer me, so I’d say he’s mah best friend!”

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “Swargeiss. That man knows too much ‘bout me. Ya know, sometimes, I think ‘bout murderin’ ‘im in his sleep.” -he laughs enthusiastically.- ‘‘.. That was a joke. Don’t go tellin ‘im that I wanna kill ‘im.’‘

–

PHEW!! Thought provoking! Took me a while to come up with answers for everything, but I’d definitely recommend doing this for your character if you haven’t already ^q^

tagged by @clearsundays — thank youu ♥ ♥

Tagging: @theflowerrabbit @claihn​ @voidwife​ @a-nacht-at-sea​ @lightdevoid​ @a-sharlayan-abroad​ @but-first--tea​ @tsukikotanshi​ @starfish-ffxiv​ @veloxaraptor​ @digitaldisaster-xiv​ 

and YOU!! feel free to yoink ^q^7

[bunny-lou]

Hi Honey 🍯! Can I request a one shot of Harlos with Harry telling Carlos that if he doesn’t does whatever he wants he’ll hurt Jay? (I’m a sucker for dark ships 😂)

Warning: non-consensual everything in this piece, violence, threats, references to abuse and non-consensual (but non-graphic) sex

I’m gonna be sick is the first thing Jay thinks when he wakes up. His head is pounding so bad that it affects even his stomach, twisting and rolling enough to make him gag.

But it’s just the pampered, well-fed Auradon kid that he’s slowly morphing into who’s complaining. At his core, Jay is an Isle kid, clinging to every bit of food that he can and never wasting. He knows better than to puke.

So he just lays and groans instead.

“Wakey, wakey, Jay! Ya don’t want ta miss this!”

“Ugh, Harry,” Jay scowls and finally cracks open his eye. “What did you do?” He tries to sit up, but his head is spinning and his limbs are heavy and, oh, well, he’s tied to a wooden staff, arms behind his back. Jay awkwardly squirms until he’s less slumped over and more properly sitting against the wood.

Harry grins down at him and it’s more horrifying than Jay wants to admit. “Nothin’ too bad,” Harry sings. “Not compared ta what I’ll do later.”

“Where are my friends?”

“Mal’s still tryin’ to get her king back, Evie is lookin’ for Dizzy and,” Harry looks at his wrist, void of any watch, “Runt should be here any minute now, comin’ to save ya.”

“So what’s your genius plan?” Jay drawls. “You know, the less people Mal has on her side, the less likely she is going to be able to get the wand for you guys.”

Harry tsks. “Wand’s not mah priority.”

Jay clenches his fists behind his back and tests the knots. “What is your priority then?”

“Ya really wanna know?” Harry grins and crouches down so the two of them are eye level. He creeps nearer, face just inches from Jay’s. “I think it’s been one of yar priorities too for a while too.”

“Oh, good, you want to break your own nose?” Jay deadpans. “Awesome. Save me the trouble.”

“Real cute, Jay,” Harry coos and reaches out to brush Jay’s hair behind his ear and the gesture is so sickeningly sweet that Jay thinks again that he might be sick. “But no. See, when Runt finally comes to save ya, because we both know he’ll at least try,” Harry laughs at the idea and Jay bristles.

Maybe Carlos isn’t the ideal picture of rescuer, short and thin and still jumping at his own shadow, but he’s smarter than anyone on the Isle. Jay knows Carlos will figure out a plan and outsmart the pirates because, well, outsmarting people is just what Carlos does.

Harry snaps his fingers in front of Jay’s face. “As I was sayin’,” he sneers, lips curling into something hideous, “once Runt is here,” Harry grabs Jay’s chin, forces Jay to look him in the eyes, “I’m gonna fuck him on his hands and knees like the dog he is.”

“Fucker!” Jay rips his head away and kicks out at Harry, though his feet are tied together. He lands a good kick to Harry’s stomach and sends him reeling. “You’re fucking sick, Hook!”

“I’m fuckin’ De Vil, actually.” Harry coughs, clutching his stomach. “Or, I was. Before the brat ran to Auradon.”

“No you weren’t.” Jay spits hotly. “Carlos never dated anyone.”

“It wasn’t dating.” Harry grins, standing again. “Just hard core fucking.”

Jay swallows. He wishes he could get his feet under him to stand, he’s feeling so small and helpless right now. “You’re lying. Carlos has never…” Jay swallows, “he wouldn’t. Not with you.”

“if not with me, then who? You?” Harry scoffs in disgust and Jay’s face burns. “The lad’s a little savior,” Harry says sweetly. “I make one little threat against the princess and he was so quick,” he snaps his fingers, “to drop to his knees for me.” Harry paces around the room, too confident for Jay’s liking. “Does he tell ya that he’s a wee virgin?” Harry turns to Jay. “Does he say he’s never taken cock before?”

“We…we don’t talk about that.” Jay struggles to talk. Everything feels numb, he can’t hear the words between them because his ears are ringing.

“But ya want to,” Harry tilts his head and pouts at Jay. “I remember how ya were on the Isle, all handsy and too friendly with him. I’ve seen ya on the telly, all over each other, clinging to each other.” Harry spits in disgust. “Ya want into his pants, but now ya’re gonna-.”

Sharp knocking on the door cuts him off.

Harry scowls and marches over, swinging the door open. His face breaks into a smile when he sees who’s on the other side. “Oh, Runt!” He cheers. “I knew ya’d come!”

“Carlos!” Jay shouts and it still sounds so muffled to him, “run! Get out of here!”

He can’t see from his spot on the floor, but he watches as Harry reaches into the hall and pulls Carlos into the room.

“Thanks, Jonas,” Harry chirps and slams the door shut.

“Carlos, get out of here,” Jay tries to tell him. “You need to leave. Go get-.”

“It’s okay, Jay.” Carlos says quietly. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

How is he so calm? Why is he here? Was Harry lying about everything and Carlos has no idea what’s about to happen? Jay struggles harder in his bindings, jerking and flailing, but he’s stopped by a shaky hand.

“It’s okay, Jay.” Carlos says again. “I know what I need to do to get you out of here. It’s okay.”

“No, no, no,” Jay moans. “Carlos, run. You don’t know what he-.”

Instead, Carlos slowly turns to Harry. “I know what this is about. That’s why I came here. I didn’t keep you waiting.” He says and his voice doesn’t shake.

Harry smiles, but it looks more like he’s just baring his teeth. “Well done, Runt. Ya remembered a rule.”

“Let Jay go. Please.” Carlos hastily adds at Harry’s raised brow. “I’m here. You don’t need him anymore.”

“Ya ran once before, Runt,” Harry cups Carlos’ face. “I think Jay there will stay as collateral.”

Carlos twitches. “Okay. Well, please, don’t let anyone hurt him, then.” He clasps his hands together. “Will you lock the door or tell someone to guard it? Please?”

“Whatever do ya mean?” Harry tilts his head innocently.

“When we’re…you know, gone,” Carlos gulps, “don’t let anyone hurt Jay while we’re in your room.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Harry easily pulls Carlos to the center of the room, away from the door. “We’re not leavin’. Didn’t I tell ya, Runt, one of my fantasies,” he grabs Carlos’ hips and looks over at to Jay, “was to have an audience?”

“W-wh-what?” Carlos stumbles away and looks between Jay and Harry. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m gonna fuck ya right here, with Jay watchin’.”

Jay kicks out again. “The fuck you are!” He fights his bindings until the rope leaves his skin torn. “You’re a dead man, Hook!”

“Harry, please,” Carlos steps closer, “not this. I-I-.” He shakes his head. “No. You’ve never asked for this before, you can’t.” Carlos stands straight, boldly looking Harry in the eye for a full second and crumbles in on himself as soon as Harry moves.

But Harry walks right past him, over to Jay, whipping a knife out of his pocket. In one graceful movement, Harry has a fistful of Jay’s hair pulled tight, forcing his head back, and the knife dances along Jay’s skin. “What was that, Runt?”

Carlos looks at the two of them: Harry watching him expectantly and Jay is finally still lest his throat be sliced. “Nothing.”

“Good boy. That’s what I thought.” Harry smiles and releases Jay’s hair, sticking the knife in his pocket. “Oh, but before I forget…” He takes a step back and swings his boot into Jay’s face, “that’s for kicking me earlier.”

“Jay!” Carlos yelps and rushes to him, but Harry grabs the back of his shirt.

“Listen, Runt.” Harry sneers, towering over Carlos. “Ya’re gonna do everything I say and do it with enthusiasm. Ya’re gonna thank me for everything I give ya and ya’re gonna enjoy it.” Harry snarls and pushes Carlos to the floor. “Ya fight me, ya deny me, ya cry or look like ya’re not having fun, well…” He looks over to Jay. “Ya can guess what happens.”

“Carloth,” Jay groans, blood dripping down his chin from his bitten tongue. “Don’t do it. Run. Now!”

Harry ignores him and smiles at Carlos, cowering on the floor. “Well, since ya’re already down there,” he reaches for his zipper and slowly pulls it down, “why don’t ya show me how much ya’ve missed me?”

Head hanging with shame, Carlos sniffles and slowly raises up on his knees. His hands shake horribly, but he manages to grip Harry’s jeans and bunch the material between his fingers.

“No!” Jay shouts. “Thtop it, Harry!” Tears are streaking his cheeks, and blood is staining his shirt. “Carloth, pleathe,” he begs. “Don’t. You gotta leave, don’t do thith for him.”

Carlos pulls Harry’s pants down.

“Oh, and remember, Runt,” Harry sings, running his hands through Carlos’ hair. He pulls the knife out of his pocket and looks pointedly at Jay, “make sure ya do it with enthusiasm. I want Jay to know how much ya like when I fuck ya.”

—

Whew, that’s probably the darkest thing I’ve written since Choke Chain!

If you enjoyed, please reblog my work!

[banishedblossomdancer]

"Well, Izanagi?" Percy called out, but mindful of his volume.

"Rrrrgh..." the dragon called irritably as he kept himself aloft in place with flaps of his large wings, "... Our runaway and her friends have been spotted... They're headed towards the mountains," reported the fiery dragon as he lowered himself back down, wings folded back as he lurched forward a little. "Urgh..."

"Ngh, hah, back still hurts, da?" The tall penguin snickered, but in an empathetic sense, as she could still feel the deep wound in her own body, "Fox girl did small number on us... surprisingkly stronk AND quick..." Naida acknowledged with some slight disdain. Before long, she and Izanagi's heads lifted as they felt a tender, refreshing essence course over their backs, shuddering a little as they felt the skin gradually mend back together.

"Ah got ye two, don'tcha worry over nuthin'," Camellia chuckled as she applied her magical know-how to restore the two tall starters back to their prime.

"Ooh! Naida feel like new voman!" Laughed the Empoleon, strutting herself. "Much thanks, yes!"

"Mmmngh..." Izanagi closed his eyes and turned his head, huffing out smoke, "... agreed. Now we can fight in the most optimal condition..."

"Your healing spell is quite a marvel in and of itself, non?" Percy stated as he approached the female fennec. "The wound on your neck looked as though it should have been fatal... yet your power, it..."

"Hah! Us Delphox dae know uir way aroond aw sorts o' spells an' whit hae ye, but healin' an' some stealthy magic is aw Ah need! Whit more coods a hunter ask fur? How dae ye think Ah biddin in mah prime, laddie?" Camellia responded with confident, hands on her hips and chest slightly jutted. "Always be prepared fur whatever comes next, a golden rule fur aw adventurers an' hunters!"

"I couldn't agree more, Camellia. And to run into you during a dire time that us three are facing could be a boon to us..." Perceval explained as he handed the wanted flyer to Camellia. The bark-brown fox looked it as she gave out a 'Tsk tsk tsk.'

"Ah, och aye, as ye tauld me earlier, that's why yoo’re it here… agh, 'at will certainly ruin a vacation, won’t it? Well guid oan ye fur daein' whit ye can fur yer fowk, laddie! Yoo're doin' th' reit thing, Ah assure ye!" Camellia patted Perceval's back gently in a genuinely friendly and supportive manner before rubbing the back of her neck with a conflicted smile. "Hah, Ah will admit, thes lassie yoo're efter, th' Gardevoir reit? She seems loch sic' a sweet an' elegant lassie too… guess ye can’t judge a flower by its colors, can ye?" She chuckles.

"… I’m… going to ignore what you just said, or at least, pretend to know what you meant by that," Perceval said after being somewhat stunned. If his face wasn't masked, there'd be a frown waiting for Camellia.

"Aheh, weel uh, whit about 'er friends? Dae ye know whit they're abit? Yoo're only efter that one lassie aren' ya?"

"As far as I’m aware of, they are innocent, no crimes to speak of. Only thing that can be said is that they sought after her to protect her… must be close acquaintances of hers, at the very least."

"Ah, hoo sweet of 'em…"

"I suppose so… be that as it may, they’re still assisting a wanted refugee." Perceval looked on as the whole band walked in the direction of the mountain together. "Moreover, they’ve both rushed to her in quite a hurry, and have intervened with our affairs. Both of which are offenses to add to the toll. And with how frantically they’ve fled to her, who’s to say that they’ve gone through proper procedures upon crossing the sea…? This could mean that they…" as Perceval trailed on that sentence, Camellia's ears and eyes perked up briefly at the implication.

"Ooooh… Ah see whit ye mean. Hah, weel, mair bunsens in yer pooch, aye laddie?"

"Possibly, or at least, more to spread around for those willing to assist us. That said… I have a proposition for you, mon amie."

"Hm? Yes, lad? Whit is it?"

"Will you join us in taking her in?" He bluntly but earnestly asked, looking at his fellow warrior in the eye from behind his facial shielding. "We could use your marksmanship and hunting expertise, not to mention your healing magic is quite a boon. I ask you this as a friend of old, and I will even split the bounty money with you as well, especially should her associates be charged as well."

Camellia took a moment to think this over... she was a somewhat busy woman already... but Perceval did sound like he was in the middle of a crisis. She always did admire how he could keep such a cool head even when things personal to him were in danger. The Delphox merely raised a finger.

"Oan one condition, if Ah may, mukker?"

"Of course. What would that be?"

"If ye can donner wi' me back tae th' ben village beyond 'at range sae Ah can report th' result o' thes hunt, 'en Ah'll be glad ta lend ye mah boo an' magic. Deal?"

Perceval wasted no time holding out his bouquet. "Agreed."

"Alrecht, it's settled 'en! Ye got anither 'unter in yer wee ceilidh, Percy! Ah woon't lit ye doon!"

The Roserade gave a relieved sigh. Having this huntress Delphox would certainly make things significantly easier, perhaps quicker too. Perceval pledged a bouquet over his chest and bowed to his friend.

"You have this rose's eternal, unwilting gratitude, mon amie. Thank you so much."

"Vell! This is becomingk quite a party, yes?" Naida chimed eagerly with a small laugh afterwards. "More members, more fun in the hunt! IS good to get blood pumpingk!"

"And to ensure our prey won't leave our grasp..." Izanagi added, snarling in a grudging fashion as he looked on into the dark horizon.

"Come, everyone... we've been through nigh-literal hell tonight. We shall rest within the mountain, then continue the hunt in the morning."