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#TY SNIPS
fourteenfifteen · 1 year
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youre not stealing my sleepover monday we're just at the same sleepover !! how exciting im having fun. anyways: 🌻
we are Literally having a sleepover
i deeply love the band big thief they’re a band that took me a long time to Get but once they clicked for me i went oh my god. they’re amazing. because they are like genuinely adrianne lenker one of the best songwriters ever and i’m not joking or exaggerating i would not say that about like any other contemporary artist i listen to but i mean it. big thief are so good. anyways w them i tend to get into kicks on one song or another where i just keep putting it on and then sitting there not doing anything except for listening and maybe reading the lyrics and like Thinking and Feeling and lately i’ve been doing that with two songs called Haley and Masterpiece both of which devastate me and are wildly good. here are my thoughts on each
so haley is a love song but it’s a love song with a kind of ambiguously platonic ambiguously romantic tone where the speaker is talking to the titular haley and like thinking about the time that they’ve spent together and then saying that they’ll always have room for them. “if you ever want to come back / you know my arms are always open” (this kills the me it hurts). to me it all kind of reads like the speaker was friends w haley but always had some feelings for her and now they’ve both moved on and gone away and nothing is ever going to happen between them but there’s still that feeling of a person being special and important and wanting them to be cared for. that said tho it’s all very almost impressionistic like there are details but also it’s got these kind of hazy gaps and implications and places where the lyrics get very figurative which i love like the chorus where they’re offering space and a home to haley is the most concrete and direct part of the song. my actual fave thing about the song is the way the pitch rises and falls like the vocal melody is so beautiful and odd. especially especially the start of the chorus when lenker sings “and OH!!!” and jumps up a couple whole tones like it’s this very sudden airy high note that is so cool and lovely. great song
masterpiece. masterpiece fucks me up masterpiece gets to me okay like maybe it’s just the mommy issues but wow does it make me feel things. it is a song about having a complicated relationship with your mom lol and specifically like seeing your mom’s flaws and also knowing that you’ve inherited some of them and like both of you wanting to help the other and not totally being able to. and the turns of phrase in it are so so beautiful like “old stars filling up my throat / you gave ‘em to me when i was born / now they’re coming out” is just a very pretty string of words. i love the titular metaphor too like the first part of the chorus is “you saw the masterpiece / she looks a lot like you” and even just that like. seeing your daughter and/or mother as a masterpiece that looks a lot like you. the love and awe and admiration and also (sometimes uncomfortable) self-recognition. it gets to me. and really and truly i could keep listing lyrics i like from this song but i would eventually just have the whole thing lol it’s a great one. i don’t relate to every bit of it but the parts i do Hit and the parts i don’t Also Hit like it has personal resonance and also is beautiful and emotional and well made. masterpiece by big thief song of the summer
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planetbeanie · 11 months
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Two beasts meet
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sillybeanies · 3 months
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kitty kitty cats ♥️
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raph-stims · 11 months
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Snip the Cat! i used to have this fella, and they were a trapeze artist and a clown to me
gif one: two people jumping on and off and flipping off a large seesaw
gif two: liquid of all colors of the rainbow coming out of tubes and into cups, each color in its own designated tube and cup
gif three: a zoom out of a person in pink themed clown makeup
gif four: a large headed fish charm being affixed on the bangs of the persons very bright blue hair.
image/image background/frame: Snip the Siamese Cat Beanie Baby, overlayed on a star candied background and a clown faced frame around the entire image
gif five: a person in a blue dress and rainbow thigh high socks and black boots, lifting their leg to show off the outfit
gif six: a person cosplaying as Baby from the FNaF Sister Location games, they look to be saying 'wrong' into a microphone
gif seven: a forward and reverse of a paint stick/shovel
gif eight: a trapeze artist swinging their body over the bar of the trapeze swing
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safyresky · 9 months
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😈, 🛒, ✨, ❌, and 👀!
😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?
Every time Jacqueline mentions @shittyelfchild in Frostmas, it is done on purpose just to hurt @shittyelfwriter because I love her >:)
I also made Blaise 6'1 just to be mean to Richard lmao. That was recent and a delightful overdramatic petty moment!
🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.
evil uncles. this one confuses me a lot. my uncles aren't evil, they're just. you know. thy suck. but they aren't evil and haven't like done anything bad to me? one doesn't like me and the other one is too right leaning for my liking most days (and also very inappropriate with jokes tbh)
i do a lot of fluff and hugs and such. i like hugs and fluff. they heal me as much as taking a bat to glass did sunday! lots of setting matching the atmosphere, like pathetic fallacy but instead of weather it's the location, location, location!
i very much enjoy imagery that's like. idk how to explain it. but it's like this:
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SHIT LIKE THAT!!!! kills me dead EVERY TIME. I LOVE IMAGERY.
✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉
My dialogue fucking SLAPS. I am so fucking witty with these fucks it's ASTOUNDING.
❌ What's a trope you will never write?
ANYTHING miscommunication related. ESPECIALLY if it's v stupid like y sees x talking to z and hears something out of context and instead of asking them about it, ghosts them and dips. HATE that, REFUSE to write it!!! AH! IF IT'S GONNA BE MISCOMMUNICATION, IT'S GOING TO INVOLVE HUGE ELEMENTAL/MAGICAL BLOWOUTS. AH.
👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
hehehehe okay okay okay. Okay. Okay. This one wip. That I have yet to start. BUT AM GOING TO START. Is STEAMY. Involves the following:
dite and jacquie spending the night together for the first time in the traditional sense (they fuck)
dite is the goddess of pleasure. so. it's mind blowing.
so much so. jacqueline straight up sprite sleeps about it
dite thinks she fucked her gf to death. she goes on an adventure and learns about sprite sleeps from, regrettably, jack
when jacquie wakes up she's MORTIFIED but dite is v good at like, spoiling her and they spa about it and she's like okay this was pretty amazing, i just had sex so good it knocked me the fuck out
THEN SHE LEARNS IT'S A) BEEN 3 DAYS AND B) DITE ASKED JACK ABOUT SPRITE SLEEPS AND TOLD HIM W H Y
JACQUELINE IS LIKE THIS IS MORTIFYING HE IS GOING TO ROAST ME I NEED TO HIDE AND PROMPTLY GOES TO SEE MELUSINE OF @kscribbs's fic Miller's Law fame (which, if anyone reading hasn't read it, please do! K is a brilliant writer and I LOVE LOVE LOVE ML sO MUCH. IT'S GOT ME AS BAD AS DITE GOT JACQUIE)
Idk why she does this, Jacquie just told me she goes to see mel about it and Mel was like "absolutely she does" and I went "cool, gr8, let's see how this goes"
Well, Mel makes her a cupperty and they chat and like she feels less mortified after Mel roasts Jack probably and then Mel's like "woman. you got shagged so good you literally went into a coma. let's celebrate that"
AND THEY DO
AND THEY GET VERY VERY WASTED ABOUT IT
AND THE NEXT DAY JACQUIE WAKES UP LIKE HA! THAT FUCKING HAPPENED! OH SHIT I MISSED ELLE'S BDAY
and when she texts Elle and explains why Elle is liek FUCK YEAH BUDDY, HIGH FIVE, GIMMIE THE DEETS AND LET'S CELEBRATE ABOUT IT
I have yet to start it but I KNOW the beats and some of the best lines of dialogue (my favourite being "I love your dress! It looks good on you! But it'll look even better on my bedroom floor >:)" followed by a squeaky 245 and Jacqueline going "sorry, it's going to WHAT?!?!"
My god. She's so funny. She gets so flustered around Dite. What a nerd >:)
ANYWAY THANKS FOR THE ASK! SORRY FOR THE RAMBLES, BUT ALSO NOT SORRY LMAO. I am dying to write the above thing but have yet to find the time/open the doc/work out the kinks of the mel and jacquie bits, but my god do I want to have this thing existing. it's so, so fucking funny ajhdfuiehorjeo
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splattermouth · 1 year
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Actually, I've more questions: you mentioned that Volo and Val eventually got to collecting the plates— what exactly got the ball rolling with that? Was it related to the spooky plate, or was it something else?
And how did those two collecting the plates interfere with the overall mission of the kids that Arceus sent?
What exactly does Missingno do to a person that it possesses? Like, how does it affect the very essence of their being and then some? (This is kind of a self-indulgent question, you don't have to answer if you don't want to since I also have a Missingno oc and went into detail for that bc I love existentialism)
I think them trying to collect the plates was something they were always trying to do. (And by always, I mean once Val breaks down and admits to Volo he thinks Arceus sent him to Hisui. Volo might have already been plate hunting by this point, knowing they had Some ties to Arceus, but I don’t think he’d met Giratina just yet. Val falls months/maybe half a year before the rift opens up over Mount Coronet after all. Sorry the timeline for all these different events is still screwy and nebulous, I’m still piecing things together myself lol)
And I’m also not sure how much the kids interfere atm honestly! Rei and Akari, friends from another time, both take the role of the player character, but I don’t think Val would encounter them all that much to have a strong opinion on them. He thinks they’re normal sweet kids, not like they did anything wrong being sent here. Volo interacts with them the usual amount, nothing out of the ordinary. 
Because of that, I don’t think the confrontation with Volo at Spear Pillar happens either, at least not traditionally. Like I think Rei and Akari are the ones to close the rift and calm Dialga/Palkia, but I don’t think any Volo postgame happens with them. I think that’s a Val and Volo thing. You could interpret that as Missingno’s presence altering the current timeline and throwing the plot into whack, and that’s a fun thought, but idk. I think it’s more just Val ends up having to deal with Volo’s delusions instead of the kids. Like atm, I think Rei and Akari’s presence is mostly fuel for Volo’s gradually degrading morals. 
AND AAH I’ve actually just recently talked about what Missingno IS and how it works in relation to The Horror That Came to Hisui here!
But long story short, Missingno are either scrapped ‘content’ or mutations/aberrations that occur through spacetime distortions and tears. Dialga and Palkia generally clean up these holes in reality pretty quick, but not always quick enough to prevent anomalies from settling in. 
Missingno thrive in corrupted environments. The young and fresh, carefully crafted world Arceus is currently watching over is built so there is no room and no way for It's old, unfinished, generally broken creations such as Missingno to thrive. But Arceus is not a Perfect god, and It has not built a Perfect world, and with a suitable host, a Missingno can get a foot in the door. The longer it stays with a host, the more powerful it gets, and the harder it is to dispel. Like how the longer you hold onto and use glitches and glitch pokemon in game, the more at risk you are for the whole experience to fall apart.
Anyway, Missingno doesn’t necessarily Possess a person (even though i technically say that a lot it doesnt it doesnt im sorry i misled you im pedantic), it more steadily Fuses with a person. The Missingno’s personality and ideals become one with the host’s, and in most cases, an entirely new ‘being’ is made. In Val and Missingno’s case: Jacred. Jacred is gleeful and fun-loving and unwittingly cruel, but also very much still loves Volo like Val loved him. And in knowing Volo’s desire to understand the universe around him and his place in it, Jacred will routinely show Volo things he did not at all ever want to know about the world he inhabits. It’s fun. Jacred really did say ‘know the unknowable, boy’ <3
Physically, Missingno naturally warps and distorts the body in odd ways. Smiles and eyes can seem too big, limbs and necks appear stretched, skin sometimes seems prehensile? Skin that shifts and ripples and ‘moves’ on its own. A host's movements sometimes come with afterimages. Colors and lighting on the host can appear unnatural, too bright or too dull. Physical contact with the host brings slight, but still sharp static sensations. Sometimes portions of the body seem to ‘bleed’ and blur together. All of these distortions happen randomly, and all for split seconds at a time. Blink and you miss it occurrences. Making those nearby wonder if any of what they saw was even real. If Missingno is corrupting the host or simply ones own vision.
And again, the longer Missingno remains in it’s host, the more it fuses with them- the more frequent and extreme the distortions become, the more it’s able to affect the environment around it and the people and pokemon that inhabit it.
I distinctly remember reading a comment on some video about pokemon glitches, and it described how when a glitch pokemon did enough damage to its opponent, the sprite of said opponent would look like it’d just been ‘shattered’, and i think abt that a Lot in relation to Jacred tbh. I will not elaborate on what that could possibly mean for Jacred OR for Volo.
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sharkface-daydreams · 2 years
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Rules: Write the latest line from your wip and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.
tagged by @bearbait-adventures :)
Now i can't do LATEST bc it's massive spoilers but i will give this
Sam smiles fondly at him, and reaches out a hand. “In a moment.”
and i don't know that many people to tag but i know @clocks-are-round @donut-entendre @leonardalphachurch and @rubykgrant write stuff (@prvtbugsbuggins if u are not too busy and want to play too :D)
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ceilidho · 4 months
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prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 3; ghoap x reader) part 1, part 2
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“What is this anyway—‘bring your girlfriend to work’ day?”
She’s snarky as ever, but with an agitated edge. Nerves prickling when Johnny holds her jacket out for her to slip her arms into. Even that makes her snap—something about not being a toddler that Johnny needs to help dress, but by then his head is in the clouds. In another place altogether. 
The prospect of getting to parade his new girl around leaves him giddy, fox-like grin hard to squash. He doesn’t suppress anything, finds it hard to push things down. When he does, it’s often unconscious. 
She doesn’t like the way he savours her anxiety like a fine wine, sniffs it from the top of her head and groans out his breath, cackling when she tries to stomp on his foot to make him go away. He dances away with her coat, light and nimble on his feet because he’s used to ducking and weaving for her affection. 
“The guys wanna meet ye,” he repeats for the umpteenth time. It’s surprising how many times he’s had to say it. 
“Why? Haven’t they ever met a girl before?” she gripes, swallowing now, her stomach probably cramping and poor bonnie lass, Johnny thinks. His poor, pretty girl is trying to put on a brave face when he knows she prefers being in the backroom of her little flower shop, snipping off stalks and tying pretty bows around pretty bouquets. He wishes he could keep her back there forever—put a lock on the door and come only to smother her in kisses and gorge himself on every inch of her—but there’s a whole wide world demanding his attention. 
“Aye, hen, never a lass as cute and sweet as ye,” he crows, ducking a hand that punches through the sleeve of her jacket in his direction. 
In the car, he drops the facade. Loses his teasing edge. It’s a violent removal, like jolting awake to the sound of someone sawing away at a catalytic converter. If his smile is saccharine, it’s really only a smokescreen concealing the apprehension bubbling away in his belly. 
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel on the drive back to base. Heart in his throat, choking his words and rendering him quiet for once in his life. He hears Ghost’s voice in his head, a low rumbling laugh, tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet. These days, his voice acts as a lodestar, the thing steering Johnny home. 
Months ago, it was the only thing between him and annihilation, the ice cold maelstrom dragging him deeper into its maw. Guiding him through the valley of death. The wound in his arm still aches in the first light of day. His sleep is still wracked by dreams of running down alleys and ducking into houses, the rain pattering against the window panes ominous, a ticking clock, each step having to be precise, calculated, each movement quieter than quiet, fading into the shadows, a cool heart and mind bested by agony from the bulletwound in his shoulder.
And then—Ghost’s voice, low and soothing in his ear, shattering the pain. Ghost’s voice in his ear telling him where to go, how to survive. 
It’s hard to explain. Johnny’s tried. It’s like talking in circles when he opens his mouth and tries to get it out. I trust him with everything in me. He could do anything to me, anything. 
He is no less capable, no less competent. His rank demands respect, and he takes what’s due to him. Since Las Almas, he’s worked across a medley of other teams, even solo a time or two. It changes nothing. He still wakes in a sweat, chasing that voice. It takes him back into the real world. The days burn into the fringes of a memory that he is always living.
“Should I know anyone’s name before we get there?”
Her voice breaks through the noise in his head this time. It’s every bit as precious. 
“What d’ye mean, hen?” he asks, clucking his tongue. Sweats a bit when he realizes how far down the motorway they are now, how long it’s been since he checked out, lost in his thoughts. One hand rests loose on her leg, fingers spread wide and thumb gliding up and down her outer thigh, the other still holding the wheel. 
The pinched look has mostly fallen off from her face, but there’s still a tremble in her lower lip when she says, “Well, I don’t know any of your friends. I wouldn’t introduce you to my friends without telling you their names first.”
“No’ my friends, hen—we’re coworkers.”
She looks over at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m friends with my coworkers.”
Johnny shrugs. “It’s no’ the same with guys. Couldnae tell you fuck all about any of them except their names, to be honest.”
“Oh, don’t give me that—you’re not friends with a single one of them? No one?”
No hunger without resistance. His mouth goes bone dry. He’d be wise to learn that. 
He swallows. “Maybe a few.”
No transaction without accountability. Ghost saves his life and now Johnny has to pay that debt back tenfold. Sinking into the crease of Simon’s voice late at night, clutching it to his chest. Breathing it out. Maybe they are friends. 
He’s a bit show-offy at the base gates, dangling his ID card out the window pinched between two fingers. The civilian guard on duty just waves him on, scanning it only for the sake of the logs. His tires spin in the dirt when he guns it down the stretch of road leading into the base, windows still all the way down. Her hair whips around in the wind until she gathers it all up in her fist and shrieks at him to roll the windows up. 
Johnny enjoys showing off. That’s a core aspect of who he is, his charm. Braggadocious, confident in the way he looks, his physical prowess, his lot in life—so why would that change with his girl? He holds her close with an arm around her waist when he drags her through the rec centre, the building closest to where they parked. 
He gets lost in conversation for longer than expected. Pure gloating about the girl he’s managed to bag. Cooing in her ear when he feels her get a bit uneasy, still timid around the other guys despite having him at her side. He supposes that’s fair. She’s more comfortable around the women on base, a bit freer with her greeting and questions, but there’s still a pinch in her brow that never smooths all the way over.
It takes a while to find anyone that he knows. There are plenty of sergeants and corporals that he’s worked with before, familiar faces and names, but Johnny still glances around the room while they make light conversation with his girl, searching. Looking for something familiar, something that’ll reel him in, make him perk up like a dog catching a scent. 
They cross Gaz in a random hallway on the way to the comm centre, hardly recognizable at first with the darker stubble of his beard grown out. He must’ve just come back from wherever he’d been shipped off to the month previous, no time to shave or clean up. He even smells of old sweat when Johnny leans in for a hug. 
“Is this—?” Gaz glances over at her just once while the question dangles in the air. He looks back over at Johnny. 
They lock eyes. A silent exchange of meaning. 
“Aye,” Johnny nods, steering her in front of him with both hands on her shoulders, showing his girl off like a kid with a new toy. Eyes glinting like, don’t say a word. “Brought her in to meet everyone.”
A molasses slow smile spreads across Gaz’s face. It’s clear why men like him always get the girl. Johnny’s hands tighten on her shoulders. “Nice to meet you—thought John would hide you away forever.”
She glances up at him through her lashes. “You talked about me?”
Gaz shakes his head. “Not as much as you’d think. Took Ghost ages to get it out of him.”
Johnny flushes. “Did no’. Jus’ ‘cause I don’ blab about everything under the fuckin’ sun doesnae mean—”
“John says you’re a florist,” Gaz interrupts, turning the conversation back to her. Her lips split up into a mischievous little grin, delighted at the turnabout, probably delighted at seeing Johnny stumble over his words.
Something about her teasing grin gets his dick hard. More points to the rapidly disintegrating belief that he doesn’t have a humiliation kink. He leans forward, pressing it into her ass, delighted himself when she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder but doesn’t pull away. 
“So, where’s everybody?” Johnny asks casually, trying not to make it too obvious who he’s referring to. The look Gaz gives him is unimpressed. He keeps running into that brick wall, his thoughts written out on his forehead, obvious to everyone around him. 
“Everyone?” Gaz repeats sceptically. 
“Aye.” His voice is tight, warning. “Everyone.”
“Ghost’s actually on his way here now, I think. We got called over to HQ—s’where I was headed, actually.”
“I dinnae say anything about Ghost, now did I—,” Johnny grumbles, but the words dissolve in his mouth when the man in question comes into the room. 
Sometimes, Johnny has the pleasure of seeing Ghost round a corner. The split second pleasure of being the observer, of dragging his eyes up and over, his chest bursting with a light like dawn cresting behind mountains and splitting the sky. In the field, he’s often deprived of that; becomes used to experiencing the phenomenon of Ghost melting out of the shadows, sometimes scaring the daylights out of him. 
It’s what happens now though. Glancing up on a whim only to see a man round the corner of the hallway leading out of the rec centre, shirt stretched out maddeningly over his arms and chest, muscles bulging like he just came from the gym, still pumped. The shirt’s a little threadbare, something old and worn, and Johnny’s seen it a million and a half times he figures; it leaves so little to the imagination that he’s joked about Ghost busting it at the seams from time to time, only to be met with a steady, aloof stare. 
There’s something to be said about how he’s drawn to people who refuse to scratch him behind the ears until he’s more than proven himself. He works tirelessly for Ghost’s approval, for his girl’s approval. Dogs with their bones, tigers with their stripes. 
He has a balaclava pulled over his face, just a simple black one this time, the underside of his eyes darkened by eyeblack hastily scrubbed off the night before, probably. His eyes scan the crowd, locking on Johnny and Gaz almost instantly. It’s the mark of a good soldier—he doesn’t flounder in the dark. Always finds his target, like a sixth sense for knowing when he’s being watched. 
Ghost course-corrects upon noticing them, crossing the room in a handful of seconds. The curt, “Johnny,” he gets is a bounty, a treasure. He grins back when Ghost glances down at the girl at his side. “That your bird?” 
“Told ye I’d bring her in—s’long as everyone’s on their best behaviour, of course.”
Gaz snorts. “Good luck with that.”
Ghost must cock an eyebrow because he can see the fabric of his mask shift. “Pretty.”
He can’t help the way he preens at that. Tucked away by his side again, Johnny can feel his girl squirm, but he pays it no mind. She’s shy—he’s known that from day one, from the first time she stumbled out from the back of the flower shop and scrunched her nose up at his attempts at flirting. 
Admiration is a smooth, buttery feeling. It keeps him aloft while another couple of servicemen take interest in their conversation and come over, Johnny’s girl at the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d be pricklier about it if he didn’t have a firm hand on her waist, keeping her pressed to his side. 
He soaks up the attention. Drinks it up when someone asks his girl a question and Johnny answers for her or pinches her cheek when she manages to pipe up before him. He knows he’ll get read the riot act when he takes her back home later, but he might be able to convince her to ride him while berating him for talking over her. Might beg her to slap him and spit in his mouth—say it’s the only way he’ll learn his lesson.
Dirty dog.
It strikes him that maybe he’s picked up some bad habits in recent months. He’s never been one to overthink, to worry and fret. Yet, he toils in it now, shovels coals into the furnace of it and gives it life. 
His shoulders go slack, the tension finally ebbing out of him. No longer dogged by the incessant fear that his girl is going to run away, bolt at the first loud noise, or that someone’s going to pluck her up out of his arms. She seems comfortable if anything. 
He’s been overthinking all of this, wrapped up in his head. He can breathe out, unclench. 
When Ghost shifts to stand closer to them, he glances over because that’s where his gaze always goes these days. Seeking Ghost out, finding him in a crowd; looking for his North Star wherever he is, wherever he goes. 
Only to watch in mute horror as, in plain sight, not trying to be discreet or hide it from anyone, Ghost gropes his girlfriend’s ass in front of everyone on base. Just reaches out a big hand and fondles her ass, digging his fingers into the cheek. She freezes, back ramrod straight as she stares ahead, eyes going a bit blank. 
He fails whatever test this is, mouth too dry for any words to come out. Humiliation burns him from the inside out. Another sergeant that he’s worked with before frowns, glancing over at Johnny. Neither of them say a word. 
Ghost tilts his head, staring down at his hand on her ass like he’s contemplating its plushness. Admiring it. With how Johnny stands on one side and Ghost the other, the two of them bracket her, like the soft centre of their trio; nowhere for her to go, a handler on either side. That’s wrong though. Ghost is not her handler—Johnny hardly is, more of a self-appointed one. 
Still he—
He lets it happen.
Contention dies a bloody death in his mouth, massacred. Mangled. He lets Ghost sink his fingers into his girlfriend’s backside and hum a little under his breath before finally pulling his hand away. The others look at him, waiting for Johnny’s reaction with bated breath. A reaction that never comes because it gets strangled in Johnny’s throat. 
“Nice meeting the bird,” Ghost finally says, voice a decibel lower, rough enough to scrape. “Gaz and I’ve got shit to do now. Be ready on the tarmac by oh-seven-hundred tomorrow, Johnny.” 
He grips Johnny by the shoulder before heading off, like he didn’t just grope Johnny’s girlfriend. Like he didn’t just reach down and grab a handful of her ass like it was his to feel up. And Johnny just nods. A placid, docile thing under Ghost’s hand, bobbing his head like a doll. 
Then Ghost leaves, Gaz trailing after him, looking back about a half dozen times to see if Johnny will suddenly follow them until he’s forced to job to catch up to Ghost, the man already yards away, longer legs carrying him fast out of the building. 
They don’t talk on the drive back to her apartment, the inside of the car tense and uncertain. Johnny walks her to the door when he lets her off, but it’s a formality, a chaste kiss at the door instead of the rough fuck that he’d envisioned to send her off. Despite the hard set of her jaw, she doesn’t lambast him like Johnny expected. The silence is worse though, haunting when she shuts the door in his face. 
The drive back to base after the drop off is agonizing in a whole new way. Still pent up, cock heavy in his pants, and fingers drumming over the steering wheel twice as fast now. What do I do, what do I do, what do I do? What he wants to do is turn around at the closest gap between both sides of the motorway and speed all the way back, knock on her door until his knuckles blister and bleed, until she opens the door and lets him in, lets Johnny push her to the floor in the entryway and spread her legs, welcoming him in. 
Until she lets him fit his fingers into the marks left behind by Ghost’s hand. 
Cold fire rising up off his bones, and then something hot. And wet. 
The next day at breakfast in the mess, one of the guys says something like, “If Ghost was into my girl, that’s the last you’d see of me and her,” and his mind goes blank and he goes over the table.
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m-musings · 2 months
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Crawl Out Through the Fallout with Me: Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard X Fem! Reader
A/N: never played an official fallout game in my life but i still love this man so it's time to bullshit some stuff, let's gooooooo
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: After a fight with raiders, a argument between lovers ensues when one of them gets hurt.
Warnings: typical fallout vibes, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, pre-established relationship, Cooper being Cooper but also being a bit ooc, this is cheesy as hell and def not canon compliant lmao
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"Damnit, (Y/n), just what the hell were you thinkin'?!"
An upset voice rang out into the evening air of the Wasteland as a pair of figures rested up inside the crumbling walls of an abandoned building.
Lit by the fading light of the sun, (Y/n) hissed in pain as her irradiated companion tried to sew a sizable gunshot wound on her arm shut.
As he passed the needle back and forth through the gash, the girl rolled her eyes with an exasperated groan as a few rivulets of blood rolled down her arm.
"Gimme a break, Coop! Did you wanna be the one to be shot?! I don't- ow!- think so!"
During a journey to find their next cash-out, the partners were ambushed by a large group of raiders & fiends. After managing to get rid of most of them, one had managed to sneak up and send a bullet flying straight for Cooper.
Noticing the weapon before Cooper could even turn to see the shooter, (Y/n) dashed over and shoved the ghoul out of the path of the shot, causing her arm to be hit instead.
Now- a few hours after killing the remaining enemies- they took shelter in a decrepit shack in order to patch themselves up in peace and rest for the night.
"I'd still be better off than you are right now. I mean, for fucks sake, darlin', I'm a ghoul. I've been through worse than just being shot at."
"Well then, that's the last time I try to be helpful. Next time, I'll sit back and relax while you get absolutely slaughtered by raiders, how about that?!"
"Go right on ahead, see if I care! Now, hold still. Can't close this cut if you keep on squirmin' around." Cooper huffed as he gave the suture one final tug before snipping the end off with a pocket knife and tying it into a knot.
After he was finished, (Y/n) rolled the pain out of her bicep before reaching into her bag to grab a somewhat clean cloth to wipe up any remaining blood.
With a sputter of her lips, she got up from her spot next to Cooper to sit upon the old mattress in the other corner of the room in order to apply a stimpak to herself. It wouldn't be enough to heal the wound completely but it would be enough for her to be able to use her arm properly.
Satisfied with the sight of her flesh knitting back together, Cooper finally relaxed in his chair as he crossed one leg over the other.
"Now don't go doin' anything that stupid again, y' hear me? Don't wanna have to use any more stims than we have to."
"I just... don't understand why you're so worked up about this. Something like this was bound to happen eventually, it's literally a warzone out here. A scar or two isn't unusual." (Y/n) griped as she fell back onto the bed while crossing her arms.
"Yeah, for someone like me it isn't. But it shouldn't ever happen someone like you. You shouldn't have to get hurt like that..." Grumbled Cooper as he leaned back against the wall.
"I'm not made of glass, Coop, I can handle a few hits."
"Don't care. You're way too valuable for me to lose."
(Y/n)'s glare softened at that, realizing the true intention behind the cowboy's scolding was worry. As Cooper sets up a small lantern on the floor to combat the growing darkness, (Y/n) watches the man with a fondness gleaming in her eyes.
"Is that what this is all about? You didn't wanna see me get hurt?" Whispers the girl as she turns onto her side.
Although the action is rather subtle, the ghoul's body visibly tenses up as he fixes his gaze away from the woman across from him.
"I never said that."
"It's clear that you thought it, though." (Y/n) chuckled as she softly grinned at the cowboy.
Heaving out an irritated sigh, Cooper hunches over to look at her as he readjusts his hat.
"What do ya wanna hear from me, sweetheart? That I care about you? That I love ya? Well, if you don't know that by now, then you might be much dumber than I thought you were."
"Hey, I resent that! You'd be lost with me and you know it!"
"Sure I would. Just like how you'd do great out there if you were all alone."
(Y/n) shakes her head with a scoff before she gets up from the mattress to walk over plop herself onto Cooper's lap after he sits back down on the beat-up dinner chair.
As she shuffles into place, Cooper places his hand on the small of her back to ensure she doesn't topple over. He silently glances at her face, analyzing her now troubled expression as she fiddles with the lapel on his duster.
Mouth opening and closing as she tries to find the words to say, she presses her lips together before finally speaking her thoughts.
"Y'know, I worry about you too... I'm always so worried that there's gonna be a day where that one gunner you miss is gonna be the one that gets you." (Y/n) admits sadly as she rests her head on Cooper's shoulder.
Cooper's eyes widen slightly and peer down at her as he begins to rub a hand up and down her arm in an attempt to comfort her.
"Hey now, look at me. That'll never happen. Not on my watch."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I got too much to fight for. I already lost one family to this nonsense and I'll be damned if you get taken away from me too. I'll fight tooth and nail before I let anything touch me or you again, understand?"
"But why? What's so special about me?"
"If I allow you to get hurt anymore, I will never be able to live with myself again. I love you, so...so much, darlin'." Cooper states with a resolute nod.
(Y/n) eyes water and crinkle with a gentle smile before she leans up to place a couple light kisses upon his charred lips, which he returns immediately upon receiving.
"I love you too, Cooper..." Mutters (Y/n) as she closes her arm around his shoulders.
With a laugh rumbling in his chest, Cooper wraps both of his hands around her waist as he holds her as close as he can.
"Your sweetness is what's gonna be the death of me one of these days, doll... Not some dumbass bullet." Cooper jokes quietly, placing a kiss atop her hair & resting his head on hers as he rocks back and forth to lull her to sleep.
Listening to the calming sound of her breathing as she slumbers, Cooper thinks about how lucky a man like him is to have found a love like (Y/n) in such a desolate situation.
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planetbeanie · 11 months
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Chip and Snip helping each other use the controller
“You get the buttons I got the joy stick!”
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helios-sol · 1 year
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hmm…had a ghost thought..take this.
“you broke his nose.”
simon flinches when your needle breaks the tender skin of his brow. he’s lucky it’s not too deep, less chance for a nasty scar.
“he slapped your ass.” is his only reply.
your sigh is heavy, the puff of air ruffling the bangs that hang in his face.
“i’m an adult,” your fingers work quickly, “i can take care of myself.”
the statement has simon quirking his brow and you’re cursing him.
“stay still-“
“what were you saying last night,” he interrupts you, “ ‘s-sir, please, need you so bad’ was it?”
your mouth goes dry, face flushing in an instant. the smug, satisfied grin on simon’s face makes you physically angry. you want nothing more than to rid him of it, render him just as speechless as you are. unfortunately, he’s far quicker to the draw than you.
“where’s all the bite from earlier?” he questions and he’s lucky you don’t make his stitches any more painful than they need to be.
“fuck you.” you grit out, lips pulling into a thin line. you don’t want to entertain him any further but he’s got other plans.
“plenty of that later sweetheart.”
you pretend to gag.
“you’re not as smooth as you think you are.”
simon huffs a laugh at that, face aching at the pull of his lips into a smile.
“still gets you hot under the collar.”
you frown, tying your thread into a knot before snipping the loose end. he’s not wrong but you don’t think you could live with him having that satisfaction.
“you’re insufferable.”
simon lifts your chin up towards him with a bloodied knuckle.
“you love it.”
you roll your eyes.
“yeah, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“would you kick me out if i said it was you..?” he asks, tugging a clean shirt over his head. you stare at the way the material stretches across his back before meeting his glance from over his shoulder.
“no, but i would tell you you’re getting a bit soft.”
that makes him scoff and roll his eyes, lips ticked up in a slight smile.
“maybe, maybe not. i think i just like a warm bed and a nice ass.”
“SIMON! you’re such a jackass!” you cry out, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
He flashes you an apologetic grin, arms raised in defense.
“okay, okay. maybe i am getting soft,” he tugs you towards him by your wrist, “but i only have you to blame.”
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marypaol · 20 days
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Strings And Knots
Draco Malfoy x fem!reader
Summary: Reader makes a bracelet for Draco, and, surprisingly to her, it lasts throughout all their years of Hogwarts.
Warnings: Mention of death, war, murder, suffocation, air pollution, destruction, emotional/physical damage, but overall fluff! (Until the end it’s kinda sad but it ends quite well- just a sad mood.)
Note: I know I did the whole Divination thing wrong since they do it for every month but that’s okay. And I really love this one it’s gotta be in top five favorites! Maybe top three!
Masterlist
Request Requirements
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One: The Making
Year: First
Her fingers worked carefully on the thread, the rough texture feeling slightly scratchy against her fingertips. Her hands were red and almost dry, twisting them together before pulling the knot up, securing it as it joined the design she was creating.
She wanted it to be perfect, despite her just learning about a week ago, but each day she practiced a bit and she could tell she was slowly improving.
She grumbled when the strings tangled together and she once again separated the colors. She could use magic, her wand sitting on her bed on top of her Charms and Potions book, but she made it her personal mission not to use the wand, for she wanted it to be made by her very hands, that way the finishing product would be much more meaningful; to her and to him.
Her fingers burned and the tips turned red as she tied the finishing knot at the bottom, taking a pair of scissors afterward and snipping the axis thread, the extra string flying off the once was connected bracelet and landing on her robes. This time she did use the wand, pointing them at the strands and made them disappear with a flick of the tip.
-
“Good, you’re here, look what Potter is doing, hanging around that giant again; honestly, how could you tolerate-what are you doing?”
She was half listening, her fingers focusing on tying the bracelet she made around Draco’s wrist. He made a face she didn’t see, taking his arm to his eyes once she was finished.
“What’s this rubbish?” He snarled, eyes looking disgustingly at the thread on his wrist. The girl rolled her eyes, being used to his on-the-daily-attitude.
“It’s not rubbish,” she protested. “It’s a bracelet. A friendship bracelet to be exact.”
Draco still didn’t wipe the disturbed look off his face, looking down at the thread with uncertainty.
“Look, I have one too; just switched colors.” She said, showing her own by pulling up her robe sleeve, hoping to assure him that out of the two of them he wasn’t the only one wearing a bracelet.
He looked at hers, something in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Well? What does it mean?” He asked, still looking at the strands on his arm.
The girl shrugged even though the meaning of them meant everything to her. “It represents friendship. Ya ever heard of it?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as she looked at him.
He scowled. “Of course I’ve heard of friendship. We are friends, aren’t we?”
She smiled. “Yeah, why do you think I made it for you?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Well I will admit I like being friends with you but I’m not sure about walking around with this on my wrist.”
The girl looked down at the bracelet she made herself, the strands not seeming so exciting and meaningful anymore, they seemed to be mocking her now, screaming at her that Draco wouldn’t want to wear some silly bracelet.
“Right…” She whispered, chest squeezing. Draco scoffed, leaning over and picking up her chin with his index finger. She looked at him, eyes uncertain and anxious.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t wear it- at least it matches my robes.” He stated, looking down at the green thread and then at the knitted badge of Slytherin on his chest, mouth twitching but she could tell it was his form of smiling. Her lips stretched wide, eyes sparkling. This time his grin broke, but it was small, nice and toothless.
Two: The Sighting
Year: Second
“Snape assigned another essay, I can’t believe it.” She complained with a light scowl in her voice, plopping her books down on the table beside the fireplace, sitting down on the emerald green couch, the surface silky beneath the skin of her hands. Draco grumbled in agreement to her protests, eyes scanning the paper of the Daily Prophet. She always thought it was interesting, him being so young and reading all those kind of grown up things about the Ministry. But it came with an upside: she could always get updates from him about what was currently going on in the Wizarding world. She leaned forward, finger tapping his knee lightly.
“Anything good today?” She asked, neck craning to meet his face behind the stack of papers, moving pictures all around the pages. He shook his head, folding the Prophet up carefully before throwing it onto the table, right next to her textbooks.
“No,” He replied. “And I bet there is, just wait till my father tells me. And that Chamber, he never tells me anything these days.”
It was her turn to agree with a complaint between the two of them.
“Well, there’s nothing we can do, right?” She tried to assure, but Draco wasn’t one for the ‘look on the bright side’ pep talk. She always knew that, but what she also knew was that it was worth a try.
“I wish there was something I could do.” Draco snarled, lips twitching irritably. She smiled lightly, getting off the couch and sitting the floor, pulling her parchment out with a quill and ink bottle.
“How ‘bout that essay, mm?” She hummed, voice smooth and he nodded, still looking like his head wasn’t with her. She watched him as he looked at of the window for a moment, the tallest one in the Common Room, the evening sun providing a warm glow to the space. His hand went to his head, lightly scratching his ear, when she then noticed the worn out thread on his wrist, green and slightly dirty, displaying its age. She smiled. “You’re wearing it.” She noted, and watched as his head snapped to her, eyes moving from the knotted strings to her face.
“Well we are friends, aren’t we?” He replied like it was a silly observation, shrugging half-heartedly but something brewed in her chest as he joined her, getting his things out for the essay they were about to write. It was something her young self wouldn’t be able to recognize, but it was similar to when her mother smiled at her in the morning, or how her father kissed her hair before leaving for work.
Her older self would know, oh yes, and that older mature young lady would call it love.
Three: The Teasing
Year: Third
“No.” Draco’s voice burst out as she hovered a very reactive ingredient over the cauldron, the potion brewing inside just the right temperature for him to add the alligator heart, dropping a few chunks inside. She grimaced in disgust.
“I was joking.” She then insisted.
“No you weren’t.” He instantly said, looking at her as a way to say “try me”.
She snorted, cutting up an herb he gave her. “I wasn’t actually gonna do it.” She tried to convince, yet he wouldn’t take her excuses, shaking his head.
“Yes you would; then we would end up like Seamus.” Draco responded and she chuckled, looking down at the herbs again so she failed to notice the soft smile on his lips.
“Got a friend, Malfoy? Who’s the lucky person?” Pansy’s voice suddenly broke out, and, the two Slytherins turning to her, saw her long skinny finger pointing at Draco’s wrist, a teasing glint on her face. Draco scowled at her, shooting her daggers with his grey eyes.
“Shut up Parkinson.” He spat, and she shut right up, cheeks flushing. “Not like you have any friends, bet you wish you did, don’t you?”
Pansy’s eyes glossed over but neither of them seemed to take care to it, yet the girl felt a small, very small I tell you, peck of empathy.
Pansy dismissed herself from the classroom right then, crying her eyes out.
The girl turned to Draco. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, ya know.” She whispered. She saw him look at her.
“Yeah I did. Surprised she didn’t say anything about yours.” He said softly, nudging her wrist that had the thread on it.
The girl scoffed quietly. “I’m a girl, it’s normal for us to have silly jewelry on.”
Draco’s pale eyebrow shot up. “‘Silly jewelry’?” He quoted. “So our friendship is silly now?”
The girl felt a pinch of regret hit her. She quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
He still had an absence of a frown on his lips, but he believed the reassurance that she provided when she gave him a kind apologetic smile.
“Good.” She heard him mutter, most likely for her to not hear, but she thanked Merlin her ears picked up on it.
Four: The Admiring
Year: Forth
The Divination book was open in front of her, propped up against her bag that was lazily thrown on the table moments prior. The usual presence of Draco wasn’t met, since she was keeping herself busy while he attended Quidditch practice. The sun was still shining, though it was evening and after supper, through the green see-through curtains.
The Professor wanted them to write predictions on how their future would go, and all she came up with was that she would “experience a heart warming moment” and that “something she dearly loved would break”.
Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly, and just when she about decided to start making them up, the Common Room entrance opened, a certain platinum blonde coming into view, broomstick hung over his shoulder. His face was twisted with exhaustion, yet once his eyes met hers she saw a different expression in his eyes, relief perhaps, for she often didn’t know how to read his eyes, despite them being friends for four years.
He blooped down across from her, next to her bag so he was still in sight. His hand was now dug into his hair, eyes fluttering but he still was able to look at her. She stared longer than she should’ve, but the sight was too warming to her chest, watching his tired eyes gaze upon hers with such softness no one would ever be able to see but her.
She had her right arm on the table, flipping through the pages of the book with her other hand.
“Divination?” Draco asked, peering over at the work she had done. She nodded, and at that moment she yawn came over her.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m about to start making it up at this point.”
Draco chuckled, reaching up and lazily rubbing his eye. “Agreed; kinda stupid really.”
She nodded once again, starting to get too tired to talk. She scanned the page that was open in front of her, spotting the sentence “you will witness a break up between two strangers” and thought that was good enough. The other predictions spoke to her but this one didn’t seem to do such, for she was at that point picking random ones out to write down. She was focused on writing, so such so that she didn’t notice Draco lay his arm down, close to her hand but the skin wasn’t close enough to brush. She also didn’t notice his grey eyes moving from his wrist to hers, the matching thread being admired scanned with his eyes.
She looked up them, feeling his finger tips brush her robe sleeve, and she met his eyes.
“What are you looking at?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing only to curve even deeper than before when he quickly responded, a little too quickly.
“Nothing.” He said shortly, taking his arm back. She held a confused expression but didn’t pry on the subject.
“Can we go to bed now?” He asked abruptly, trying to change the topic of conversation. She hummed, packing up her now finished work and putting it in her bag. She stood up, about to grab the bag when Draco beat her to it, his pale hand gripping the strap.
“Thanks.” She muttered, suddenly feeling a small flush appear over her cheeks.
“For what?” He asked, confused, like he didn’t know he just did a kind deed.
She scoffed at how oblivious he was. “For carrying my bag. You don’t have to do that.”
It was his turn to scoff, lips twitching in slight annoyance. “Well we are friends, aren’t we?”
Five: The Breaking
Year: Fifth
The Hogwarts Express seemed to vibrate underneath her, the engine coming to life as it was ready to ride on. Everyone was excited for the upcoming year, happiness flooding their features and chests.
She, however, grew worried when she didn’t have the usual company of her friend, not having seeing him yet. She didn’t spot him in the platform or while she was walking along the hallways of the train, going to their usual compartment. She was thinking he went with his other friends, perhaps he wanted to catch up with them.
But she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, since he always at least met her before each year, in the same seats on the same train in the same compartment. Why was it different this year?
She looked out the window, miraculously thinking maybe he was running along the train’s side, yelling for it to stop so he could catch up. But of course that wouldn’t happen since the boy was always on time, so he must be on the train, just not with her.
The compartment door opened abruptly, causing her head to snap in the direction of the noise. Draco stood there, in a black suit, black tie, and black shoes. He strolled over to the seat and sat across from her, leaning his hands on the table in front of him. This all happened just in time as the train started churning, wheels turning and gaining speed as it headed off to the school.
“Where have you been?” She asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.
“I was looking for something.” He answered simply, looking a little irritated.
“For what, exactly?” She asked, getting annoyed as well, the irritation brewing in her chest as he once again left her with no answers.
“I was looking for this.” He said sharply. He had slapped something on the table for her to see, the green thread immediately recognizable between his fingers. It was the same as it has always been, dirty as it went through the years but the knots stayed true. The only thing was that the bottom was broken, the knot becoming undone.
“Can’t wear it if it’s broken, right?”
She was half listening, still gazing at the strings that were on the table. She grabbed it gently between her fingers, caressing it like a baby and analyzed the damage.
“It fell off on my way here.” He explained, kind of annoyed that it did such thing at such an inconvenient time.
“I can fix it.” She said quietly, surprised he still possessed it. “I just can’t believe you still have it.”
“What, you don’t have yours?” He asked, looking a little hurt beneath the annoyance that she’s so surprised at that occurrence.
“Of course I do,” she started, and missed his eyes going to her arm to see if it was there, and she was telling the truth. “I just didn’t think you’d-“
Draco groaned, rubbing his head with his hand and looking at the window, grey eyes reflecting the sun’s warmth. “We are friends, aren’t we? Honestly…”
She looked down at the bracelet, the knots worn down and dirty, but the meaning stood true. She didn’t know what it was, but somehow her mind went back to her Forth Year, working on her Divination homework, and writing down “something she dearly loved would break.”
She supposed her made up predictions weren’t made up after all.
Six: The Decision
Year: Sixth
“This is stupid.” Draco’s voice blurted shortly, looking down at the homework in front of him, the essay’s words seeming to combine in his mind, creating an annoying jumble of ink.
“I know, but Slughorn insisted.” She reminded, causing his silver eyes to roll in the back of his head. He quill lazily sat on his hands, twirling it mindlessly out of boredom.
She noticed his robe sleeve rolled up at the action, wrist muscles twitching and moving as his fingers worked the quill.
The bracelet made of thread was not only repaired but still sitting on his wrist as good as ever, the green shining the meaning of it. Just looking at his made the feeling of her own on her skin a lot more noticeable, heart warming at the sight.
“Do you want me to make you a new one?” She asked, and when he turned to her she gestured to the strands that were getting older by the day.
His eyebrows furrowed deeply, displaying large amounts of confusion. “New one? Certainly not.” He replied. “This one’s just fine; don’t know what you’d think that, really.”
She smiled soft but it was unsure. “You sure? Cause I was thinking about making myself a new one.”
Draco scoffed but looked a little frustrated. “Scared of a little dirt?”
“No.” She replied. Draco then nodded towards her wrist.
“Then it stays. Mine’s as old as yours.”
Seven: The Pulling
Year: Seventh
The air was musty, ash seeping the air, suffocating the lungs of beings who breathed it in. Of course no one cared at the moment; the air pollution the last thing on their minds. The living breathing representation of evil was standing in front of them, laughing like what was happening was his dream come true. Because, realistically, it was. Deaths, damage, emotional and physical, destruction, all of it was part of his dream. To end it all and face the boy who lived, and all for what. Just so he can kill the boy who he was trying to murder ever since he was a baby?
It wasn’t that the girl was paying much attention as the living evil spoke, too busy staring at the ground that inc held healthy green grass, grass that her and Draco used to pick at while they complained about classes they had that day. Or any day for that matter. Sometimes his long skinny fingers would dig into her sides, wiggling until he heard the sound of her laughter, something he may never hear again because of the cold voice calling him.
His mother. His father. The living evil.
He stepped forward, ready to leave the cruelty of his peers and the burning stares he just knew where there. His head swam with so many emotions but he didn’t have time to look them through, just focusing on walking to the other side, the other side where evil doings were being performed. The other side that he didn’t have a choice but to be on.
He was gonna go, he really was, despite the soft tug he felt on his wrist, and, looking down, saw her index finger hooked underneath the thread of his bracelet as she pulled, the knots begging him to stay along with the maker of them. He met her eyes despite the emotions crashing his rib cage, threatening to get to his heart, but he held the gaze all the same.
“Stay.” She said softly, eyes swirling, knowing all those years with him weren’t for nothing. She didn’t last all those times with him as a child or teenager just for him to walk away.
“Why.” He muttered back, voice dry as ever so much so that he felt like his throat was filled with sand and he was speaking through the tiny rocks. She answered with a small smile, something so small making him plant his feet on the ground, making him stay away didn’t the living evil on the other side….making him have a choice.
“Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”
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dem-obscure-imagines · 6 months
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Let It Snow
Pietro Maximoff x Reader
Fandom: MCU
Summary: When the power goes out at the Facility, Pietro makes sure you’re keeping warm.
Note: Takes place in an “Everybody is alive and lives at the Avengers Facility” AU. Wanted to kick out one more Christmas/Winter imagine before getting into the New Year’s stuff.
Warnings: None?
Word Count: 1.5k
Reader Is: Gender Neutral, an Avenger.
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To be honest, you didn’t notice it at first, the slight chill in the air. You continued your work, typing away on the loud, typewriter-style keyboard on the fancy, expensive computer Bruce had built for you (with Tony’s money, of course).
And then it got…worse.
Your toes were numb and you were shivering, despite the long sleeves you were wearing.
You slid your feet into some slippers and walked out into the hallway, arms huddled around yourself as you wandered from your room, down the hall to where the thermostat was. You gave the up button a cursory press, waiting for the screen to blink to life and tell you what it was set to, but it didn’t.
Huh. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?
“(Y/N). Hello.” Vision materialized beside you, causing you to jolt in shock. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine, Vision. Do you know what this is all about?” You asked, shivering and motioning to the busted thermostat.
“It appears the furnace is broken. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are attempting repairs now, but it may take quite some time.”
“Oh. Gotcha.” You nodded, “Thanks for the info.”
“Of course. I do recommend you bundle up. It seems your body temperature is steadily decreasing.”
“Will do.” You saluted and pivoted on your heel, just in time to catch a face full of Pietro as he sped down the hall, sliding to a stop.
You ever so gracefully fell on the floor, staring up at him, disgruntled. “Nice one, Sonic.”
He chuckled, offering a hand, but you got up on your own, dusting yourself off. “What is the problem?”
“Furnace is busted.” You explained, patting his arm as you began walking away.
Pietro started walking backwards, keeping pace with you. “Where are you going?”
“To get into something warmer. Might be a while.”
One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Well, you know, I’ve heard skin to skin contact is the fastest way to warm up, if you need some help with that. I do have ‘improved homeostasis,’ as Banner puts it.”
“I’m good, thanks.” You deadpanned, shutting your door in his face. You could feel him lingering there for a moment before running back down the hall to his room, you presumed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Pietro was a flirt. Always had been. But things like this never worked out with people like him. Not in your experience, at least.
You changed into a cozy, zip-up onesie, feeling a lot warmer than before, especially with the hood over your head. You got back to your tying for a while. A few hours at least…until the lights went out.
“Great!” You threw your hands up, rolling away from the desk in your dark room.
In a huff, you stood up and walked to your window. It was a blizzard out there, inches and inches of snow on the ground. There was a knock on the door and whirled around to answer it. Part of you expected it to be Pietro standing there, but instead, it was Steve with a flashlight.
“Oh, hey. Is this because of the blizzard?”
“No, Tony says he snipped the wrong wire.” Steve shook his head. “Or something. Might be a while before it gets fixed.”
It was already getting late, and you were planning on going to sleep soon, but now, you weren’t so sure you should if you didn’t want to wake up a popsicle. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”
You said, turning back to grab your phone and your water bottle to refill it before you figured out exactly what it was you should do in the meantime.
***
About an hour later, Pietro found you on the couch in the living room, shivering and reading a book by the light of a tiny, battery powered reading light. You were bundled up and, due to the lack of windows, you were pretty sure it was the warmest room in the facility. But as the temperature continued to drop, it didn’t seem to matter where you were.
“(Y/N), what are you doing in here?” He said, concern etched deep into his accented words. You met his eyes, wrought with worry and only offered a shaking shrug.
“I don’t want to g-go to sleep until the h-heat comes back on.”
He shook his head, crossing the room slowly for once, taking his time with each step. He sat beside you, not even bundled up beyond a hoodie and some sweatpants. For the first time in your life, you envied his powers. Carefully, giving you every opportunity to shove him off of you, he gently lifted your blanket, guided your book to the coffee table, and crawled on top of you, settling his body atop yours and sandwiching you between himself and the couch. He pulled the blanket back on top of the both of you, adjusting his head into the crook of your neck.
You were stiff at first, but at his warmth, you all but melted, eyes closing in bliss, your arms relaxing around him as you chased that feeling. His warmth. His scent, that sharp, woodsy cologne he was so infatuated with.
“Is this alright?” He asked, voice low and raspy.
You nodded, relaxing further into his hold, letting him warm you up. You pulled him closer, relishing in the feeling of your shivers slowly stopping. “Pietro…”
“I won’t say anything. The others don’t have to know.” He assured you, meeting your eyes before settling down again.
“I’m not too worried about that.” You whispered, suddenly overcome by it all. His proximity, his voice, the way his body felt melded against yours. It was right, what they said. Fitting like puzzle pieces.
“You’re not?” He asked, mischief at the edge of his tone. “Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?”
You scoffed. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t dislike you, Pietro.”
“I don’t dislike you either.” He replied with a chuckle. “Kind of the opposite, in fact.”
Your heart picked up a quicker rhythm, cheeks flushing. You were kind of thankful the two of you were cuddled up in the dark. You hoped nightvision wasn’t one of his secret powers, or you were sure you’d never see the end of it.
“Please say something.” He murmured at the silence.
“You…”
“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, words quick, flat at the edges.
You let another moment pass, choosing your words.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”
You touched his face with a cold hand, guiding his chin so you could attempt to look him in the eyes in the silvery rays of light streaming in the window. “I like you, too.”
He grinned, breath catching in his throat. “You mean it?”
“I have for a while.” You confessed. “Since that first training session when you bulldozed me on the track.”
“I did not bulldoze you!”
“I don’t know, I felt pretty bulldozed, laying there, flat on my back, feet knocked out from under me.”
He chuckled. “I was trying to impress you.”
“Mission accomplished.” You laughed at the way frustration crept into his words. “I could never forget about it. My very first week on the team and already, someone was out to get me.”
“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes, the words sounding unsure on his tongue. He shook his head, gaze softening as he reached up, a careful hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you warmer now, drága?”
“Much.” You nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “I do have another idea for warming up, though…”
He smirked. “Such as?”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“Please do.”
You rolled your eyes, and looped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you and crushing your lips to his. He hummed in agreement, calloused fingers hooking your jaw, keeping you close as his kissed you tenderly, passionately, lips soft and perfect and experienced. He was the perfect distraction from the freezing room around you.
Then, suddenly, there was a loud thrum and the power kicked back on, bathing the room in light. You squinted, the appliances in the kitchen all beeping as they came back to life.
Pietro shielded his eyes with a hand, still hovering over you. You stared up at him for a long, quiet moment, still not entirely sure it had happened until he dipped back down and pressed a long kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.
“Now let’s get you to bed, hmm?” He asked, helping you off of the couch as the facility gradually warmed back up. The two of you walked down the hall together and you yawned.
“What were you two doing down there?” Bucky asked, standing in his doorway. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“I was just letting (Y/N) know the heat was back on.” Pietro shrugged. “I am the quickest, you know.”
“Uh-huh. Right.” Bucky nodded, suspicious, but backing away into his room anyway.
You got to your door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Pietro. His hand grabbed at your waist, tugging you in for a kiss that you gladly returned. When you parted, you watched him speed down the hall, hoping that when you woke, it wouldn’t all be some sweet, winter dream.
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ghouljams · 6 months
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Viking!Soap has consumed my entire being! Just imagining how unhinged he'd get if highland!reader got hurt or taken!!
Or or or! Him seeing her holding/caring for babies! They way he'd get sooo feral... 🥴
(Your writing > Me 🤰)
While the vikings aren't back home quite yet in the Soap story line, I did have an idea in my head and this is honestly the best ask to write it out in. Here's some of highland!reader being a healer and Soap being just... so dead over it
uuuuuh tw for descriptions of birth. I'm giving Gaz a baby.
Now this is a good use of your skills. You forget sometimes, that the vikings come from somewhere, that there must be people waiting on them, that they must have a home. This? You could never deny that Gaz is human after this. Not with the way he holds his wife's hand and frets over her as she grits her teeth and pushes. You know this, you've been midwife to enough of the people in your village to feel her dilation with your fingers, to cup the baby's head and ease its shoulders. You try to look reassuring as the mother sobs above you. That's what Gaz is for you suppose, he murmurs quiet affections to her, trying to keep her calm through the worst of it.
When the baby finally slips free and falls into your hands you can feel the relief that sobs through its mother. You're quick to dip your scissors in the boiled water nearby and snip the cord, tying it off with deft precision. You frown at the quiet infant, rub your fingers against its chest as Gaz comforts his wife. It scrunches its little face, opens its mouth on a silent cry and you turn it over to hit its little back hard. Then again, until it coughs and its cry finally pierces the air.
You sigh, and pass the baby off to be cleaned up by one of the mother's friends. "It's a boy," You tell the happy couple, taking their weary smiles as payment for a job well done. The only job you've ever done well.
The fire has burned low and the rest of the village has gone home to wait, but the 141 is vigilant. The crazy shepherd pops her head out of Gaz's house with good news after hours waiting. Soap lets out a breath and leans back to look at the rising sun. A new day for a new life.
He doesn't expect to see you holding the new wee one when they're actually allowed in. Sat next to the bed, fingers checking over the infant as your wrap and re-wrap its swaddle. His swaddle. Gaz said the baby was a boy.
You look tired, but you smile fondly down at the sleeping baby none the less. Again he finds himself staring at the rising sun, the warmth of you permeating every shallow corner of the room. The baby shift in its blankets and you shush it before it can start crying. Your fingers are so gentle as the skate over its little cheeks and nose. Every angle of you seems to gentle the infant, each soft touch to calm it. Soap's never seen anyone like you, never thought someone like you would step down from the realm of the gods to grace the earth.
Something warm melts over Soap's heart, the tender moment broken when you hand the baby back to his mother. Gaz and his wife laugh as Ghost and Price crowd close to give the congratulations, but Soap can't take his eyes off of you. He wants to see it again, wants to see you cradling an infant, looking content and proud.
Soap goes to stand next to you, brushes his fingers against your shoulder to try and catch some of the warmth breaking off of you. You stiffen and glare up at him. He takes his hand away, feels his fingers tighten, his smile hollow when he pastes it on. How differently would you look at him if it was his baby you cradled close to your chest? Would your gaze still cut into him like the bitter winds that carry snow down from the mountains? Would you soften for him, let him see the warmth in your eyes that now seems so far away? Would you look at him like you look at the baby?
As something human?
"Thank you," Gaz's wife give you a genuine smile, her eyes tired but shining with joy, "I know this isn't what you-"
"No," You stop her, the nordic tongue sounds so foreign to Soap's ears when it comes from your mouth, "I'm happy to help." Your accent is bad, it makes Soap smile a little fuller as he tries not to laugh. You seem to warm again watching the happy family. It's just him then.
Soap can see it when you give Gaz a weary smile, he's human in your eyes. He wonders what it would take to be granted the same honor. If you'd ever give him that, just that, he could live a lifetime on it.
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hotluncheddie · 27 days
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how is your autistic Steve? missing him on this Sunday
hello!!! me too omg!!!! he is the best boy!!!
I've been having a couple thoughts about him here and there and I found a old snipped I wrote ages ago in my notes <3
:) ty for reminding me of him tho, my actual true love autistic Steve :)
-
Eddie notices Steve doing it one night, while a films on, sitting in the dark. 
He's rubbing his hands over his mouth, over his lips and cheeks. Over and over again, his fingers or palm rubbing left right, left right, over his lips.
He sees it again one morning. Steve laying on his belly, rubbing his face into the pillow, smushing his nose and turning his whole head left to right and back again. Always slow to wake up, sleepy long after the alarm. He rubs, then huffs. Sighs and relaxes. rubs again. 
Eddie can't hold it in any longer, he needs to touch him. So he rolls Steve over, into his arms. Steve hums, high and happy, twisting to be the little spoon. Tucking in close and grinding a little, the menace.
But they’re both too sleepy still, too relaxed. Steve breaths deep and snuggles into Eddie's arms. Then Eddie feels Steve's head move, so he peeks over to see Steve face. He has his eyes closed, rubbing his mouth and lips against the soft duvet. Pressing lightly on his upper lip, and below his nose. Body loose and Eddie tangles their legs together, buries his face in Steve’s neck, and breaths. 
-
Steve plays the same song over and over. It's new, from a band he loved then forgot about. But there’s this part in it, this new song, part of the bridge he thinks Eddie said. Steve likes it so much. Just that little part. He sings along to it, copying it. It sounds so nice. 
He plays the song over and over. Eddie helps him put it on a tape. That one song. The one song with that part on the bridge. Over and over on the same tape. It’s so good. Steve plays it on his Walkman if someone is over. Plays it over and over, until his mind starts to wander during it, he's heard it so many times. Until that best part seems stamped in his head - never to be forgotten.
It's so good, that little part, the whole song.
Steve plays it again.
-
Steve making packed lunches. ✨
It's so he can feel in control. So if everything went weird and wrong in his day, at least he knows that lunch will be normal. The same as every other day.
No worrying about if they have what he wants or if there will be enough protein to keep him feeling full. No stress that there won’t be anything around he wants to eat which would mean he doesn’t eat anything, the hunger manageable for a while until it’s encroaching on him slowly and he’s snapping at Robin but forgetting the cause. His tension rising and his jaw clenching, and before he knows it it’s the end of the day and his head is pounding and all he can do is go home and sleep off his tension headache. Evening gone for anything fun, ruined by pain. Steve hates that.
So Steve makes packed lunches, makes a couple at a time, sometimes enough for the whole week in one go.
Sometimes he has a craving for diner food, and that's okay, him and Robin sharing an order of fries and Steve getting his burger with extra lettuce and pickles on the side. And that's okay, some days, if it feels right. He has his lunch for dinner and enjoys.
But still, he makes packed lunches.
Just so he knows.
No matter what happens. Lunch is the same as every other day. <3
-
going to once again tag people who might like to see - this is very short but i just, i want as many people as possible to think about autistic Steve, he is so very special
@pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @spectrum-spectre @just-a-tiny-void @steventhusiast
@tangerinesteve @lil-gremlin-things @irethsune @scoops-aboy86 @marvel-ous-m
( sorry if this is annoying )
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splattermouth · 1 year
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Adaman for the ask meme!
ADAMAAAN ive come around to him a lot, compared to when i first played thru pla. 
(Also mind you its been a while since ive played and i took iridas route over adamans so i dont know. Every little detail about him. But i like him <3)
favorite thing about them: he’s so fucking funny, i love that hes like the straight man of hisui. Adaman is so fucking normal (genuine), and literally everyone else around him has like a secret bit they have to commit to or theyll die. And like he just has to deal w it. Like all of it. Everyone’s nonsense all the time. You can tell he’s so tired and he’s just trying to keep it together
Also obligatory, but his design is soo fucking killer. Ive only recently actually sat down to draw him n hes just so fun. So well shaped. I like irida’s design on its own a lot, but like compared to adaman? they did her so dirty.
least favorite thing about them: I WISH WE GOT MORE OF A BACKSTORY WITH HIM UGGH i hate to compare him to Irida sm here, but she got like. A very clear story of struggling to accept her new position as clan leader after being abruptly shoved into it. Of the rest of her clan either having insanely high expectations for her, or in Palina’s case, feeling like she didn’t deserve the position.
I get Adaman’s whole thing was Supposed to be that he struggled to earn respect from the rest of the Diamond Clan until Dialga outright Possessed him (which that part is fucking sick. For the record), but i wish they just made it more apparent that. That’s What was supposed to be happening lol. 
Because idk, at least to me, definitely the rest of the clan members were kinda bratty, but i never got the impression they were that way specifically Because they thought Adaman was a weak leader, you know? I didn’t even like realize that’s what was supposed to be happening until like. Reading a few other posts abt Adaman’s position in the story dhdfhgkg Good and interesting ideas w his arc just poor and kinda rushed execution imo!!
favorite line: that one fucking line @ irida towards the end of the main game that was like. ‘I don’t think our rivalry is a Diamond and Pearl Clan thing. I think it’s just a You and I thing.’
lives in my brain.
brOTP: for the love of god i need him and irida to be friends that fucking hate each other.
They are at each others throats over Everything, they will argue Everything just for the sake of arguing, if they every agree w each other on any matter they will both collapse on the spot. They are so sick of each other, but also they are best buddies and no one knows them like They know the other. It’s so fun…
OTP: AH im sorry he’s very aro to me. Both bc I don’t think there’s rly a lot of ppl he could be shipped with anyway, but also he does not strike me as someone who has a romantic interest in. like anyone.
He strikes me as a chaste bisexual man who has never felt an ounce of infatuation for another person in his life. He’s just very buddy-buddy w a lot of people, and he’s happy w that <3
nOTP: so i wouldnt say its a notp bc i dont like. vehemently Hate it, and i think there Could be potential. but im sorry, appraisalshipping makes me kinda :/ a fair amount of the time.
Some stuff is cute, yeah, but most of it is just reeks of ‘i only watch/read/play things for shipping and specifically to ship gay prettyboy twinks’ to me. Adaman and Volo have maybe had all of five lines w each other.
I think there could genuinely be something cool to explore there, like contrasting just how immediately trusting Adaman appears to be of Volo? Compared to Irida who calls Volo's bluff right off the bat for being way too friendly w the protag to be completely genuine. With Adaman just tending to be a more open and friendly person than Irida. Adaman putting his faith in someone he absolutely Should Not just because hey! Adaman’s just a nice person like that! He's not gonna be mean to this guy he just met just bc he's a little overeager! But like god knows no one has any interest exploring That dynamic lmao.
anyway if you ship like adaman/akari im legally allowed to break all of your fingers, slowly and individually
random headcanon: I think he should be like 5’5” at most. He’s short and he’s fat i know this in my heart of hearts.
Also despite always talking about utilizing the time he has to the fullest, he doesn’t strike me as someone that pushes himself or other ppl to constantly be Doing and Accomplishing things, so much as he tries to make every moment meaningful and wants others to do the same. I don’t think he’s all that headstrong as some people may describe him, and i dont think he’d necessarily be someone that thinks like. Taking a nap is a cardinal sin. I think he just wants people to put their limited time on this world to something that matters to them rather than petty bullshit (like arguing w the pearl clan sdhk).
ALSO also less an adaman specific headcanon, but i do personally like to think most of the diamond clan are family, or at least all the main members we see. I know hes canonically brother to melli and mai i think? But i think theyre all one big dysfunctional family and theyre why iscan never leaves the coastlands to visit anymore.
unpopular opinion: i dont think hes boring sorry!! Im guilty of think this at first as well tbf but MAN. going back to the what i dont like abt him thing. Knowing now thats what his whole character arc is supposed to be just makes me :(. He wants to be a good leader and he loves his friends and family a lot and takes such good care of them and they literally like. Do not care until dialga outright tells them to take its little thrall seriously for once. Man. man. 
song i associate with them: DHGJKDFH Animal Collective Merriweather Post Pavilion on main. My Girls feels very adaman-core.
youtube
favorite picture of them: So theres like zero actual canon art of him outside of just ingame screenshots but i do like this breezy lil adaman here. annoyed…
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