#Soap being Not Normal

[livecrow]

Gundog!Soap's errand gets derailed when he catches your scent.

A retriever "retrieves" a plump bird.

Shifter/Hybrid Dark!Soap x fat reader

(cw: kidnapping)

Soap’s popping down to the shops.

He just needs to pick up an ingredient for dinner last minute. Ghost isn’t home yet, so he’s off the lead. Unsupervised. Normally, they’d get the messages together, but he only needs one thing. He could manage it. It wouldn’t be more than a wink.

But as he mills about, he can’t help feeling off.

Like he really is a dumb dog wandering around without his owner, his lead might as well be dragging on the floor behind him, collecting lint and stray bread ties—

It’s turning into one of those days where he feels far more mutt than man. 

Without Ghost’s firm hand grounding him, the place is a cacophony of input. Too many smells, too many sounds, too many colors, too much movement—all melding together into a murky emulsion of stimulus under the glaring LEDs. 

He squints down the vast row of isles for longer than he’ll admit.

Eeigit.

He should have written a note.

Thought he could have remembered one bleedy thing. Ye dinnae need a list for one thing—

Feeling frustrated and dafty, he resigns himself to traipsing down each aisle and hoping something jogs his memory. Pride wouldn’t let him call up Lt. He’d never hear the end of it. He’s a birddog for chrissake, proper braw at findin’ things—when he knows what he’s fuckin’ looking for. 

Least he can skip the sundries. He knows that much. Soap’s more than happy to avoid the detergent aisle. Stuff is bowfin. Stings his nose, makes his heid ache.

Lot of good his heid was anyway, feeling fuzzy, like it was packed with cotton. Might as well be. Nothin’ else between his ears. Certainly not the one fuckin' thing he pulled on his gutties and left the house for—

He let's loose an irritated huff and it's probably a bit too close to a growl than is wise.

Soap's trying to make good time, but he's a solid four isles in and hasn't had any luck. Eventually, he finds himself staring down a sea of tins. Fruit and veg, beans, and the sort. His eyes scanned the labels, but even readin' was a real Herculean task when he's feeling so out of sorts.

The canine part of him can't be convinced deciphering rows of little lines and squiggles is a proper use of his time. Especially when he could be usin' his nose instead.

Some wee bairn has starts greetin’ a few aise down.

—Green beans, peas, sliced carrots, corn, diced potatoes. Nae, that wasn't it—

....who in their right mind buys tinned tatties?

A passing trolley is making an awful racket. Discordant shrill squeaks and clunks of a stuck wheel scraped against his ear drums.

—It’s definitely not the asparagus—shites mingin’, and that’s fresh. Wouldnae faff about with a recipe that called for that. Cannae think how foul tinned would be… 

Soap sighs in exasperation. As he goes to abandon this aisle, he steps back to turn and bumps into something.

Soft. Soft, soft, softness presses into his hip—

The kind of softness that cradles, that molds around him. Softer than any of his toys. Soft an’ cozy as his own bed, maybe—nae, softer. His bed didn't have the same give, the same wobble. It was a softness that sent a literal shiver up his spine, saliva pooling in his mouth. That smell—

Not something, someone then.

An incidental collision, a bird had been trying to slip by him just as he stepped backwards.

The touch was there and gone in a second but he was mournful for its absence. The scent lingered at least, soothed the whine that crawled into his throat. There was no artifice to it, no acrid chemical edges that came with any fragrance found in a bottle.

You had actually managed to catch him off guard. The shiver that rattled through him began with a slight jolt of surprise at the two of your union. He must have been more out of it than he thought, he hadn't even noticed anyone else in the aisle. He'll never get used to being startled, but he wouldn’t hold that against you.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered apologetically as you stepped back, embarrassment coloring your face. The contact clearly ruffled your feathers a bit.

Soap’s mouth shuts with an audible click, he hadn’t realized his lips were parted. He hurriedly swallows a completely unadvisable pant in your direction.

“Nae bother, hen,” he blinks. Finally finding his human voice, responding like he's supposed to when he's out and about on two legs. It’s a little breathier, a beat later than he should have responded, lower too. There's a rasp there that chafes the very air. 

...Maybe his head wasn't packed with cotton.

Maybe it was your soft, downy feathers that was muddling him up, making itself a sweet little nest in his cranium—

The bird sends him a polite, restrained smile as it scurries off.

His world narrowed, like he was watching through a spyglass. Or was it a scope? Regardless, everything else but you dissolved into blur, even his peripheral was swallowed up. Framed you in a vignette. Every tiny aspect of the minute interaction seared painlessly into his mind.

A pretty, fat partridge.

Wandering too close.

Game like that, ambling by all round and plump, right under his snout? Feathers close enough they almost tickle his nose—

It's instinct, ya ken?

Mind, for a dog that retrieves quarry, it’s in his nature. Cannae help it anymore than the shade of his coat. So, is it the dog's fault then, when he lunges? Snatches the bird up, into his warm mouth? Firm and soft all at once. The delicate control from a pup that can cradle a raw egg without fracturing the shell. When he brings it back to his master, tail waggin’ as he’s done a hundred other times?

Nae. Noone’d blame him.

He can already practically feel the pantomime thumping of your frantic heartbeat in his mouth—echoing his own excited pulse. 

Soap’s keen eyes never left his prey, even as your back was foolishly to him. His hind paws were already ahead of his brain, he followed, trailing at a distance. Stalking.

Thing should know better, he might have been a wolf. You’d have waddled straight into it's gaping maw, mistake the canines for stalactites and his tongue for a cozy spot to lay your little head.

But no, he’s no wolf. He’s safe. Won't take a bite out of you. He's a good boy— 

Good dog.

Bird dog. A Gordon Setter, Si says.

A jack of all trades, proficient at tracking, pointing, and retrieving. A soft-mouth breed. That’s very important. Most dogs cannae do what he can. Pick up a bird without pricking it. Ghost has been working with him, trainin’ him up. Helping him be more patient, learn new tricks.

Your scent—it was so hard to describe, but he luxuriated in it, nose twitching. It was warm, but not torrid. Sweet, but not cloying. Rich, but not heavy—

Familiar, somehow. Like a childhood lovey. Cheek-worn and supple as a lamb's ear. 

He’s struck by a piercing déjà vu.

It should have confounded Soap—but it didn’t. It just was. The strange mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity that shouldn’t normally coexist. He didn’t know you, nae. But it felt like he should. Maybe he’d seen you in a dream? Some sticky remnant from a past life? Nothing else could explain the strength of the reaction that gripped him by the scruff. Commanded him to “fetch”.

...He’s doin’ so well. Being so, so careful—game’s normally still, after all. Not wriggling about anymore. Is much more effort to control his grip on a bird thas tryin' to fly away.

Thing squealing like a squeaky-toy doesn’t help, zaps somethin' in his brain, even though he’s hardly pressing. Ghost will look at you an’ see there’s no teeth marks on you. He’s being good. Knows better. Not even a tiny nibble. 

Soap's so pleased.

Only wish he'd had his tail out, so he could articulate his excitement properly.

He’ll take you home and keep you. Rest a heavy paw on you when he wants you to stay put. Carry you round the house with him. Share his food with you. Show you his other toys. Only roughhouse gently, like he would a puppy. Bat you around a bit. Paw at you real gentle like. This soft, living squeaky-toy that he can nap with. Even let you nest in his own bed, tucked under his chin. He’d only ever mouth at you gently, you'd learn you wouldn’t have to fear his teeth. He’d rasp his tongue over you, help you preen yer pretty feathers.

He ached to sigh happily against you, rut his face against you. Wanted all the rest of his sighs to be against you, pressed into your skin. Nose at your crown, in your soft neck, on your squishy belly. He’s curious where on you that scent would be the strongest.

Ghost will be so proud when he sees, when he proudly lays you at his boots—

You'll like his owner. He'll pet you real nice. Ghost always knows the right spot, even before you do. Thoughtful.

So thoughtful that he won't even mind that he'll have to sort something else out for dinner.

[s0fter-sin]

ghost who works with abused dogs because he can relate to their fear and anger and soap who's terrified of dogs but needs a service animal after he gets shot

ghost who's covered in just as many bite scars and scratches as he is scars from his childhood and the military, but he never holds it against a single dog

he knows what it's like to feel trapped and think you only have one way out

he sits through the barking and the lunges, steadily gets closer as he gently talks with each dog, apologises when he moves too quick and gets bitten because it's always his fault, never the dog's. no one bites for no reason

the pride he feels when he gets to share their blanket for the first time is only matched by the day of their adoption

it’s soap's friend’s idea to bring him to check out a dog to foster while his service dog goes through training. he knows he's uncomfortable around dogs - he never made a production out of it but you can only duck around someone so they’re in between you and a dog so many times before they pick something up - but he just thinks he's not used to them and being around one will be enough to calm him down

soap knows he needs a service animal; both for medical reasons and help with every day tasks but also for emotional regulation. he pings from depression to apathy to white hot rage so quick it exhausts him; he's so tired of blowing up at people just because he can't keep his head on straight

he needs a service dog

but just hearing the barking from outside has him so on edge, he's almost sick from it

a volunteer shows them all the dogs available to foster. his friend gushes over every single one; cooing about how cute and sweet they look, just darling things, encouraging them to jump up on their barrier and play tug with their toys, and “come on soap, say hello”

soap keeps his distance, smiling thinly as the volunteer introduces each dog

but ghost happens to be in one of the kennels working with his latest trouble case

and he can plainly see how terrified soap is, no matter how well he thinks he’s hiding it

he flinches at every bark, his hands fisted at his sides, but his friend just doesn't notice; too occupied with the lab mix he’s playing with. ghost can see just how tight he's winding up, the tension creeping up his spine, his “smile” twitching uncontrollably, and it doesn't surprise him in the slightest when he finally snaps at his friend to “just fuck off, alright!” after he keeps pushing him to get closer to the dogs

the abrupt silence is tight and judgmental; the friend giving him a wild look. soap gives a short apology, still angry even though if anyone just took the time to look, it’d be clear he doesn't want to be, and storms out while his friend apologises to the volunteer; dripping with shame and embarrassment that sets ghost's teeth on edge

he could've stopped a dozen times before soap blew up, should've seen the warning signs that he was getting overwhelmed and afraid long before he got to that point

he spreads out a few treats for his dog, both a reward for his patience and an apology for prematurely ending their time together, slowly getting to his feet. he heads outside to find soap in the alley beside the shelter, swearing at himself under his breath and looking seconds away from punching the brick

and when soap snaps, “enjoying the show?”, squaring up with his teeth bared, ghost just leans back against the wall; open and non-threatening and waits for soap to come to him

just ghost who knows what it's like to be angry and afraid and has the patience to help soap feel more in control of himself, never flinching from his bark or his involuntary bite, as well as help him through his fear in time for his service dog

[deanwasalwaysbi]

Dean's nothing about our lives is real speech? When he says "everything we are is because of chuck"? He was speaking privately & directly to Castiel when he said that.

Not to Sam. Not everything I am. Everything we are. Dean was having a full on crisis.

"You asked, 'What about all of this is real?' We are." Dean didn't know how right Cas was.

Like no baybee. It'll take 15 episodes, but god himself will tell you Cas defied him and his plan to love you, actually.

[simonbrain]

I mean I hate to be wholesome on your good smut blog but honestly in regards to your Soap is too close to Ghost and doesn’t see the problem with it (by my personal definition of cheating anyway) it isn’t cheating and I do think nothing is wrong with it. If we’re in a monogamous relationship and him and Ghost really aren’t doing anything physical then yeah I don’t think that a single romantic relationship should be the end all be all for interpersonal fulfillment. Hell these guys have been in multiple life or death situations together and clearly are attached at the hip in work environments. I’d be so happy to see that someone cares so deeply about him. Flattering though it might be I wouldn’t want him to be lonely and miserable just because I can’t be around 24/7. Probably start including Ghost in events I’m planning with mine and Soaps civy friend group. Or if he’s not into that I’d back off and let them have their one on one time. Now to be less wholesome; why would I be jealous when I know he’ll choose coming back to our home and our bed to get his back blown out by me no matter how close he is with anyone else? He’s my good boy after all. ;)

“I hate to be wholesome on your good smut blog” is killing me 😭 but anyway, thank you for sharing your thoughts with me! i totally see where you're coming from, and i would also be thrilled to know that he has someone else he can lean on, especially in his line of work.

although i was leaning more towards soap wanting to start something with ghost (and not actually because they have their reasons), your take on it has inspired me to think about the more wholesome idea of johnny holding simon and reader in his hands like dolls and trying to make them kiss.

like johnny takes you to meet his lieutenant, and something in you dies a little when you realise just how bright johnny shines when he's with his moon. it's to be expected; they experience life together in a way you'll never have to face, and the bond they've built is so strong you couldn't untangle one man from the other even if you spent meticulous effort to undo the knots. it makes you wonder why johnny's even with you in the first place and not with the man who's practically looking at him with hearts in his eyes. despite how much he tries to mask it, you recognise the look he wears perfectly; it's the same one you sport around your boyfriend.

simon, on the other hand, is immediately enamoured with you. how did this bastard find someone so lovely? you don't seem to be bothered by his whole getup or lack of social skills in the slightest, choosing to keep the conversation light with random topics you think might interest him (he'll let the fact that you favour liverpool slide simply because he likes the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about your team). you're so sweet and funny, and simon has a painful realisation that while johnny won't ever truly be his, he wouldn't want anyone else but this charming little bird in his place.

meanwhile, johnny's about to melt in his seat because his two favourite people are finally together, actually interacting and looking at each other, and it's like his biggest wet dream ever. now, he just has to figure out a way to get you two more acquainted...

[hatsbuckets]

Base wide Easter egg hunt organized by Soap. (Secretly of course. He's a one man shadow army and no one knows it's him. Hell, he's being a good little boy reading his Bible that morning when someone asks about it.) He's nostalgic like that.

It's not announced, there are just eggs hidden everywhere on Easter morning.

Everywhere.

Hundreds of pastel plastic things speckling the base, the yard, the front, the barracks, the war rooms.

Eggs hidden in terrible places.

But eggs also hidden in terrifying places (ie. on the ceiling. In the weapon racks. One with the C4 (...soap...))

The first random guy to find one discovers they have candy in them.

But then one is found (under a toilet seat) with money in it.

Now the hunt is on.

[imababblekat]

Medic reader who’s part of a small team sent in with others to clear out a compound so the more specialized forces can go in and do their classified work, except in the heat of everything medic reader gets separated and ends up on their own. They accidentally find their way into a secret lab and are attacked by a scientist that had been hiding, having something injected in them before taking the enemy out. Suddenly they feel very sick and dizzy, but just before passing out a small team of four come rushing in, sounding aggravated when they radio back to whoever that their target, presumably the now dead scientist, has been neutralized so they wouldn’t be able to take them prisoner. Medic reader tries to get their attention but can only groan in ill pain, their vision blurring in and out as one of the men order two to guard the door while he and another come rushing over to confirm they’ve got an alive friendly. One of the men is checking them over for injuries while the one closest to them, with a firm voice, is ordering them to hang on and stay with them, but just as medic reader is about to pass out, the last thing they note as they’re being lifted up by strong arms, is the TF 141 patch on their saviors uniform.

[shadow0-1]

If I push, will you pull?

[so-you-melted-22]

Honestly, I forget how little representation there is for ace and aro people every year, until pride month rolls around.

There are all these posts going around recommending queer movies and books and tv shows and comics and what not and it covers most identities and has a wide variety of different stories, but if there is anything with aces or aros included it’s always the same three shows. It’s kinda sad and annoying.

Most (of the few) depictions of asexual and/or aromantic characters are in tv shows aimed at highschoolers, which isn’t wrong, but once you’ve graduated it stops being particularly relatable. I wish I had some extensive history of aro-ace film and literature where I could pick and choose based on my mood and personal preferences. Instead I have to scavenge the internet high and low for something that might possibly have characters that are like me. Wether or not the rest of the plot seems enticing to me be damned.

[sharpiedoodleee]

need more fics where Ghost is obsessive. where he’ll kill for Johnny, where he *does* and he does it well. where hes fucked up and unhealthy but does it so casually, so without a thought. too used to a fucked up life to know the difference anymore

[cherryatombomb]

ghost that has never had the opportunity to learn normal things putting himself out of his comfort zone and learning things for soap.

soap mentioning he's craving some homemade cupcakes, and ghost scouring the internet for recipes and spending hours perfecting them before he finally hands them over to soap, pretending like it's not a big deal because he can't handle praise

soap mentioning an old friend giving him a nice woodcarving, and how much he treasures handmade gifts, and ghost spending months figuring out how to make something nice, and handing him a carved bear for christmas

soap getting sick, and ghost quietly researching how to help people that are ill, because he normally tends to ignore his own sicknesses. ghost gathering all the ingredients and working all night to make soap a fresh batch of bread that he makes up some soup with, leaving it outside soap's door on a tray with some pain meds

just. ghost learning things for soap, because he doesn't know how normal relationships function, but he's trying, so damn hard

[casmicmisha]

i have this headcanon where dean starts to include washing his legs in his shower routine after he showers with cas for the first time bc cas lovingly washes them for him and dean’s like oh damn that’s an important part of getting clean why haven’t i been doing this

idk this is based on i think a poll i saw today on twitter where someone asked who out of tfw washes their legs while taking a shower

[manyblinkinglights]

I cannot stress enough that Murderbot should look like the kind of video game NPC you would happily kill. It should look like the gijinka of something you lower your horns and charge from behind to knock off its feet for gems in Spyro.

Like one of several someones who get mowed down satisfyingly in a stairwell almost as an afterthought in a movie’s extended action sequence! A goon! A MOOK! what is this waif business

[atopvisenyashill]

cregan’s issue is the same as corlys which is ya kno never seeing his girl heir as an heir period. so just like corlys brings marilda’s boys to rhaenyra to legitimize instead of pushing for baela or rhaena to inherit, cregan decides to remarry for a THIRD time even though he has a granddaughter and SEVERAL daughters who could inherit. they’re perfectly happy to bow to a woman when it’s convenient, when it fits into their own honor codes and benefits them, but when it comes to their own families, their own legacy, only a man is good enough. when it comes to the it it’s like - aegon the younger has BEEN heir, and was already named the next king by the time cregan gets there, BY corlys, who goes along with the green style inheritance of saying aegon iii is aegon ii’s successor through daemon’s line, likely imo bc he just wants the war to stop and thinks getting rhaenyra’s last son on the throne is good enough (bc he doesn’t get it!! it’s why he pushes rhaenyra to name men over women with better claims during the dance; he’s not about disrupting the system, he only supports rhaenyra bc it benefits him!).

baela isn’t being denied the crown because not a single person including baela herself thinks she’s a viable contender and that’s the result of aegon ii being the last monarch & adult targaryen alive in the capital, and not anything cregan or to some extent, corlys, does; jaehaerys’ ideology is what the greens are fighting for and jaehaerys’ ideology is what wins and the person to blame for both jaehaera & baela not being viable contenders for the throne is aegon ii himself. but jeyne arryn is right there!! too bad it doesn’t matter, bc in a situation where cregan and corlys actually do have the power to go “i have the ability to just support my girl heir” they choose a boy. it’s just like cat says it’s just like borros lord misogynist himself says - a daughter is nice but ahhh a son. a son is more important!

[sarahlancashire]

there's a thing that happens, when a same-sex relationship (especially if it's an f/f relationship/ involves a female character who has only been involved with men before) is introduced into mainstream media, where a certain type of straight person will go to facebook or similar and complain about it, and then other straight people will join in, and say things like "but apparently our opinions don't matter because we're heterosexual" and i just. FUCKING HATE IT.

we are not saying your opinions don't matter!! we are saying you're wrong, and you're being offensive, and now you have the audacity to mock us for calling you out!!

straight people can find validation and representation in nearly all media that have ever existed, and some of them are still not fucking satisfied.

[eager-wolfboy]

The idea of a beta helping someone through a rut/heat is the hottest thing ever. Especially if you feel like betas don’t experience these cycles.

Think about this, my As and Os: you could be hitting them with new pheromones/sensations for potentially the first time Ever. They aren’t Used to it like you are. Do you know how likely they’ll be hypersensitive to it?

Imagine a beta, your beta, walks into your room, smells your sweet scent, and you get to watch their instincts wash over them like a tsunami. You can see it in their eyes, how their initial shock melts into confusion and then fuzzy, dizzy warmth you’re all too familiar with. You, your scent, it’s so powerful that they don’t know what to Do with themselves. They fumble towards you, overcome with a feral desperation to cater to your ever need. And isn’t that exactly what you needed anyway?

Oh god, but could you imagine if they did experience those cycles? They could be in synch with you from the moment they scented you, instead of other alphas/omegas where it’s a planned event. Fuck, they might even switch between heat and rut, or have a constant mix of the two, making every cycle with them a new experience

[atopvisenyashill]

the more than an inkling less of a hunch with casterly rock inheritance is like. tyrion & lann the clever stealing it out from under their noses. not through extreme violence but through trickery. there’s all the poop jokes about the inheritance. tyrion being in the bowels, in the walls. he’s been there the whole time. and i think about the other historical characters he’s very parallel with - corlys, tyland, viserys ii, barth. neither tyland nor barth ruled in their own right. viserys only ruled a year in his own right. corlys dies soon after the dance is done. they plant seeds in a gardens they never get to see, never get to reap for themselves. except. corlys ensures driftmark stays with velaryon blood by introducing his bastards into the line of succession at the last minute. viserys’ line is ensured because though he toils in service of aegon’s, the throne passes to his own son, over aegon’s daughter.

there’s a girl, an heir tyrion approves of, that has been here the whole time. he will never sit as lord of the rock in truth but he WILL be in charge of who does, and it WON’T be the sort of heir tywin would approve of.