#big bomber jacket my everything

[yawnyztired]

New WIP because I have a problem

Egg!Net sketch

[daegall]

☆ late night company.

➷ in which the Gods give you a shit day, and Aphrodite makes up for it.

pairing: son of poseidon!jeno x daughter of ares!reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, bff2l!AU

warnings: anxiety, injuries, reader is implied to be female!!

word count: 4k words

a/n: sorry if any opla readers get this i just suddenly got the urge to write for mr lee jeno bc <3 jeno tee hee !! also wtf this work has been sitting in my drafts for a whole 8 days i wanted to post it SO bad but i went out of country and didnt have my laptop </33

anw!!! bros the sunflower of 3 years is now jeno biased,,,, sorry hyuck i still love you

You feel your heart continuously spiraling in your chest. It's growing wild, crashing heartbeats uneven and quick. With every breath you breathe, you feel a dark, nervous pit in your stomach grow. 

Anxiety. 

One place you never fail to find yourself at when you're feeling especially weak, is none other than by the river. Oftentimes you spend your time skipping rocks or staring at the water, the tranquility bringing some kind of peace to you. 

However, none of those things seem to help tonight. 

You sit on the dock, playing and fiddling nervously with your fingers as your mind runs too fast for your liking. 

"You're on my property,"

A sudden voice to your right startles you, more than you'd like, yelping in surprise. 

And at your reaction, the person next to you instantly knows something is wrong.

It's Lee Jeno, son of Poseidon, heartthrob of all of Camp Half Blood. 

Someone who's stolen your heart.

Jeno stands there with a boyish smile on his face, a glint in his eyes shows no harm, though shines with charm. His hair is messy, which is normal for this late hour, but he seems as awake as ever. 

He's a big reason why you're in this state, and it seems to get worse and better at the same time as you observe his expressions. His eyebrows crease, in worry, lips that were previously smiling quickly transforming into a worried frown.

"Sorry," You mumble, frantically standing up. "I didn't realize,"

How did it even slip your mind? You're by the lake, he's the son of the God of the Seas, of course you're in his area. 

Before you can take a step forward, Jeno halts you, "No!" he reaches out with a hurry laced in his voice. "No, please stay,"

He could never forgive himself if he were to leave you alone in such a state. It's clear you're vulnerable. And for you to be just the slightest bit disturbed is a bad sign.

You've always been calm, composed, even in the heat of a battle, you were always so sure of yourself. Seeing you here, so oblivious about everything, your mind drifted somewhere far? Jeno can't help but worry.

"O-oh, okay," You nod, before awkwardly retracting your foot, taking it back right next to your other one. 

It's silent a moment after, with neither of you knowing what to say. All that can be heard is the quiet waves rippling through the lake, and the soft bristling of the trees brushing against each other. 

God, Jeno looks really cute tonight. 

It's rare to find him outside of his armor, paired with his sword, gifted from his father, and shield, looking fit for the title of a demi-god, and yet tonight you see him so human. He sports a bomber jacket, a random band t-shirt underneath, and a pair of basketball shorts. 

To put it simply, Lee Jeno looks very boyfriend material right now. 

To him as well, you look different from what you're usually looking like on a daily basis. Just like him, you look human. But in a different way. Once again, you look vulnerable. There's an obvious nervous glint in your eyes, unfocused and darting everywhere, and your form shrinks with every moment that passes, arms hugging to yourself. 

"Are you okay?" 

Jeno's voice is comforting, gentle, and yet it still manages to startle you. 

Why are you so uneasy tonight?

You don't respond. Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. A moment passes, then another, but you can't seem to find your words. 

"No," You breathe out. In an instant, you feel your body relax when the truth finally comes out, relaxing further when Jeno seems to be unbothered by the fact, reaching out to you. 

You accept his offer, stepping closer to him, your fast heartbeat finally slowing when his hands gently search for comfort in yours, his thumbs rubbing gently at your skin. 

"I'm not okay,"

"I know,"

And when Jeno looks into your eyes, he doesn't think anything could hurt him more than this. He's been in countless battles, earned multiple injuries and scars, but there's a different kind of hurt when he sees the tears forming at your waterline. 

"Can you explain?" You find solace in his warm touch, following as he tugs at your arm. A silent invitation to his cabin. You don't pull away. Jeno glances at you for an answer, smiling softly when you nod simply. 

You can't explain it, but there's a feeling you have whenever you're around Lee Jeno. It's comforting, gentle, and you feel that you can be genuinely vulnerable around him. 

You think it's love. 

You date it back to last summer, when you had defeated him in a small spar together. Despite you winning, he was the one smiling brighter. It confused you at first. You thought maybe he was making fun of you, maybe he let you win, but a moment later, you realized it was admiration. 

The way his smile caused your own had your heart lifting, filling your head with thoughts you never thought you'd have for anyone.

When you went to Jaemin, son of Aphrodite, he thought you were dumb at first. How could you not see it? Lee Jeno had been harboring feelings for you for weeks, and finally, you felt the same. 

And just 2 weeks ago—13 days and 12 hours ago, to be exact, Jeno confessed his feelings. 

Feeling terrified and confused about what to do, you asked for time, time in which he gave you generously. 

You don't know why he's still nice to you, when you've been taking so damn long to answer him. 

You suppose he really does love you, you conclude it when he's taken you to sit with him on a couch. 

The cabin is quiet, so very quiet, it's a nice change from your cabin, full of life and busy people running left and right, with crafting tables in every corner, you like how quiet it is. 

Jeno sits patiently next to you, his hands still in yours. "How are you feeling now?"

You peer up at him, attempting to blink your tears away. "Better," You sigh, smiling lightly. It's natural, and unlike your usual bold smile, but Jeno feels absolutely lucky to be able to see it. 

"Will you tell me what's wrong?"

He means no harm, simply wanting to help you, but it still confuses you. How could he be so caring towards you?

You answer him, despite your mixed emotions, quietly mumbling, "I've just had a really shit day." Your head turns away from him, almost embarrassingly, pursing your lips.  

Jeno's hand releases from yours, and although you instantly miss its warmth, his fingers find itself caressing at your jaw lovingly, before he turns your head back to him. He looks at you with care, so lovingly that it almost overwhelms you, as he speaks, "Tell me about it,"

Something about Lee Jeno just makes you want to melt, to depend fully on him and be loved, to love him. It scares the shit out of you. 

"I lost a sparring," You mumble. Jeno can't help but chuckle a little. To others, losing a practice battle is routine, everyday, but it means so much to you it makes him feel proud of how passionate you are. 

However, there's something you're not telling him. He can feel it. 

"And then?"

"And then my siblings were constantly at my neck because of it."

Truth be told, it's not just today's battle. You've been off for 2 whole weeks, and for good reason. 

But feeling this way... it feels so foreign to you. You hate that Jeno has such a hold on you, such an effect on you, plaguing your mind and constantly being reminded of him from the smallest things, it's new. 

But another part of you longs for more, for more change, to explore this new thing, to be happy with Jeno. 

"I feel weak," You tell him. You feel even weaker when he hums in understanding, feeling the warmth of his fingers caress your skin. His hand is still on your jaw, now wiping away the stray tears you didn't even realize you had let slip, oh so gently and carefully. 

"I'm supposed to be strong, like my siblings, like my father. But I can barely control my emotions and actions and sometimes I just feel so... useless? I'm Ares’ daughter, for fucks sake. The God of war. I-I should be able to fight with no problem, win every fight. Isn't that what I was made for?" 

You can sense Jeno's growing concern, you can feel it with each hush he lets out when you cry a little harder, you can feel it now that he's let both of your hands go to cup dearly at your cheeks, and you hate that you yearn for more. 

Why must you appear so weak in front of Lee Jeno? 

"I know it's just my emotions and whatnot, but... god, I don't want to disappoint people anymore,"

Jeno shakes his head, squeezing gently at your cheeks. "Don't say that. You don't disappoint anyone,"

"I disappoint my father—I disappoint myself." You say instantly, and it's clear it's a thought you've had for a long time. "I disappoint you..."

Jeno's eyes desperately search for yours, his face leaning in close to yours. "Hey, hey, look at me,"

His voice lulls you to a calmer state, as he shakes his head lightly, and despite all that you've said, how much of a burden you've been to him, he smiles at you. How can he smile at you? When you've been nothing but so frustrating tonight? 

"You could never disappoint anyone," Jeno mumbles firmly, stroking at your cheek. "not me, at least,"

For months on end, Jeno has watched you beat yourself up for the smallest things you do wrong. A small mistake during a spar, tactics failing in a game of capture the flag, even when you get the date wrong you never cease to criticize yourself.

You've got high expectations. Expectations even you yourself can't reach. 

"Don't you see? I'm disappointing you right now," You breathe out. It's full of anguish, distress, as if to prove a point. A point that Jeno can never see. "I'm being such a burden, you shouldn't even have to take care of me—"

"—I want to take care of you." Jeno interjects immediately. "I need to know you're safe. I don't care if you think you're a burden, because I know you will never be one."

Through your sniffling, and wobbly lips, a smile is somehow curling on your lips, as your hands creep up to circle around Jeno's wrists. 

"There's that smile," He whispers, with the brightest grin you might ever see, a smile even Apollo, the God of sun and light could never beat. 

Jeno leans in close, before he presses his lips gently to your cheek, cleaning you of your tears. Each kiss he leaves on your skin spreads warmth within you, like a fire growing bigger and bigger, until it consumes your whole soul.

This time, you welcome the fire, finally feeling secure within Jeno's arms. 

What have you been so worried about? Lee Jeno may be oblivious at times, but he's not dumb. He's genuine, he's caring and loving and he's the same person who confessed his love for you 13 days ago, the same heart, the same mind, the same Jeno. 

So, you fall into him. You don't care if it's terrifying, or if you have a few bumps on the way, because Jeno is your safetynet. He always has been, and will always continue to be your safetynet. 

You just hope Jeno feels the same for you. 

You're brought back to reality when Jeno pecks lightly at your nose, his laugh resonating through the room right after he sees your shocked face. 

"You know I like you, right?"

You've known for 13 days and 12 hours. Even with all that time to process his confession, it's like he's saying it for the first time, as he holds your face dearly, as he stares into your eyes with so much emotion, it almost overwhelms you. He says it as if he means it. 

And he does. 

"I know," You know with all your heart. You melt when he smiles sweetly down at you, your throat burning with the urge to tell him that you like him too, hell you might even love him. Your fingers tingle, yearning for his touch, your heart burning for him. But he doesn't deserve it. Not after how long you made him wait for a response. 

You don’t understand how Jeno could ever look at you the way he is right now, his eyes shining with such a dear look in them, his lips curling lightly. You know you look like a mess, with your puffy eyes and wet cheeks, how could anyone see the worst side of you and still love you?

You suppose it’s the pressure you get from all your tough siblings, standards way too high for you to reach, but you know you would feel the same if Jeno was crying in your arms as well. 

“Good.” He mumbles. “It won’t change.”

A sensation hits you. Your heart jumps and you feel all of a sudden breathless. No amount of tears could take this much air from your lungs, and it’s not anxiety filling them. This time… it’s a warm feeling, it swirls and spreads all through you as Jeno continues. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N, that I would stop liking you just because you didn’t answer me. But that’s not true,” He shakes his head, stroking at your cheeks as he scoots closer to you. His voice grows softer, but with the distance between you two, he’s never been clearer before. “I’ll wait for you. Forever, if I have to.”

Lee Jeno has you hypnotized, and you wonder if this is what sirens are like, because he’s all that you want suddenly, you feel so dizzy and hazed with… love. You love him, goddamn it, and he loves you too. 

“Just… take your time, okay? I want your answer to come from you, your heart. Not from your siblings, or father, or even me. I want your truth,”

And your truth is him. It stupid to think, but you truly do think that you were made to be with Lee Jeno. 

When he pulls away, and finally gives you some (very unwanted) space, you decide to tell him. 

“Jeno,” You breathe out. You’re sure the sounds of waves outside his window can easily beat your volume, but you’re more sure Jeno hears you, as his eyebrows shoot up instantly, and he hums, leaning in close. He’s always so tentative to you, you’ve always loved this trait about him. 

“It’s been two weeks–”

“–I said you don’t need to–”

“–I want to,”

This time, it’s him who goes speechless, and you can almost see the pink in his cheeks growing under the dark light of his cabin. “Go on,” He finally says. 

“Thank you,” You reply. “As I was saying, it’s been two weeks, and I’m ready to give you my answer.”

Jeno’s shocked when you reach over, fingers brushing over his, as you take his hands in yours. “I’ve… always been held under some sort of expectation, always being watched, waiting for some victory, and I hated it. I still do,”

Jeno’s heart softens, as does his eyes as he listens, knowing very well what you are talking about. You’ve isolated yourself countless times when you are unable to reach the expectations, afraid to show anyone emotion. 

“and god, did I want to give up. I’m sick of my siblings always picking at my every flaw, judging every step I take. I felt trapped. But you… you’re the opposite. I feel so free around you, it scares the shit out of me. I think about you constantly, day and night, when I’m training or just reading a book, every tiny thing reminds me of you and it’s honestly scary. And you have no expectations for me, it was confusing at first, but I understand now. I don’t have any for you, either. I love how competitive you are, and how you’re still so humble despite being a child of one of the big three’s, and how you take care of everyone, even people you don’t know, and hell–I find your lame jokes funny. I never minded when you’d watch over me, if anything, I loved it. And I was confused what it was at first,”

You suck in a deep breath, shutting your eyes, Your heart beats loud in all your senses, you feel it rising at your throat, tingling at your fingers that Jeno caresses, but it’s okay. It’s Jeno, he could never hurt you.

“But I know now.” Your eyes flutter open, and in a second, your nerves fly away. Jeno’s looking at you with so much love, patiently waiting for you to finish, so you do. 

“I like you, Jeno. I might even love you,”

You both grow silent after that. 

Once again, you grow anxious. 

Holy shit, did he lose feelings in the span of your 2 minutes spent ranting to him?

And when you’re about to lose all hope of an acceptance, Jeno’s fingers tighten around yours the moment they attempt to slip away. 

Alarmed, your eyes slowly trail back up to his face, unable to read his expressions. 

Jeno sighs. “Say it again?”

“The… the whole thing? I mean, I could,” You mumble. You’re serious. You could recite the whole thing if he wanted word-by-word, you’d do anything for Lee Jeno right now. 

When he doesn’t say a word, you suspect it’s what he’s genuinely asking for, clearing your throat to start over once again. “right, okay, uh… how did I start?”

Suddenly, you realize that you are not capable of reciting the whole thing word-by-word. It had all come out with its own flow, you had absolutely no control of your mind, nor did you even think you’d have to say the whole thing again. 

Despite that, you still try. “Um–I was always told I had expectations… is that what I said? I don’t know, I don’t really remember. Just something about um, feeling trapped, or something… and feeling free around you? Is that… I think that’s what I said.”

Stupidly, you keep going, knowing fully well that you can’t repeat the deep and touching moment. Jeno finds it so very endearing that you try, however, unable to find it in himself to actually stop you, when you look so cute holding onto his hands and trying to remember your words. 

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter, but after that I said something about, uh, you being a child of Poseidon? God, I can barely remember. Anyway, you’re cool, Jeno, you really are–”

Suddenly, your mouth clamps shut. A warmth envelops your chin, lips, to your cheeks, before you realize Lee Jeno has his hand covering your mouth, shutting you up. You’re surprised to see a grin on his lips, even more so when he starts chuckling, taking his hand off to ruffle it gently on the top of your head. “Not that part,” He finally says. 

“Then… which part?” The way you look at him, Jeno almost thinks you’re doing it all on purpose. Your eyes shining just for him, your confused scrunch on your eyebrows, how could he ever fall more in love with you?

“You love me?”

Oh. That part. 

“...yeah,” You breathe out, growing shy. It takes you a moment, before you remember his words. 

Say it again.

“I think I’m in love with you, Jeno,”

At your words, he seems to grow tense, but it’s different from all the sparring matches you’ve had with him. He has a huge smile on his face, his eyes creasing into little moons, moons in which you love, the smile that you long to see everyday. How did it take you so long to decide you love him?

“I think I’m in love with you too, Y/N.”

“Okay, cool,” You nod, attempting to act cool. The Gods know how you really feel, your heart beating as fast as ever, shit eating grin growing on your face as his hands slip in yours once more, as you lean into him. “that’s super cool,”

“mhm, yeah, really epic,” Jeno mirrors your attitude, you can tell he’s growing shy. You know from the way his voice dies down a little, growing small with mumbles, you know from the way he curls his body slightly, but he’s still as confident as ever, bumping his forehead with yours. 

You chuckle at the action, shutting your eyes to savor the moment. 

At that moment, you both silently thank Aphrodite, for guiding the both of you here, right now. 

Your eyes open once again, and you find Jeno already staring at you. You offer him a smile, one that he welcomes, and returns with his own bright grin. His mouth opens slightly for a moment, but nothing comes out. Jeno blinks, thinking hard to himself. 

You wonder what he could be thinking about, but before you could wonder more, or even ask what’s on his mind, he speaks. 

“Can I… kiss you?”

You chuckle lightly at his words, bringing your forehead away from his as your head throws back in soft laughter. Albeit confused, Jeno still watches, his heart burning with every laugh you let out. 

“You know you don’t have to ask, right?” You finally say as you stop laughing. “Go ahead,”

Jeno smiles, and his face is so close to yours that he could smile against your own. Your noses brush, eyes slowly shutting, and his warm lips envelop yours. It feels tender, soft, gentle, and loving, his hands wrapping slowly around your waist. Kissing Jeno is different from what you’ve always thought kissing him would be like. It’s comforting, not rushed. It’s welcoming, it feels like home, where you’ve always belonged. 

Jeno feels the exact same thing, his lips curling and shifting between yours as your hands hold dearly at his jaw, caressing at his skin. 

When you pull away, all that resonates through the Poseidon cabin is your shallow breathing, and sounds of the soft waves hitting shore, and it couldn’t be more perfect. In Jeno’s arms, worrying about nothing, thinking about nothing but him. 

“Stay the night?”

“What?”

Jeno’s eyes widen as he realizes his abrupt words, his mouth gaping. “N-no! Not like that!”

You both know it’s not like that. You find it cute that he still says it, anyway. 

“I-I mean, your siblings upset you, right? You don’t want to go back to your cabin–unless you want to! Of course, it’s your choice, completely,”

And they say chivalry is dead. 

All you can do is continue to stare at him as he goes on and on, admiring the way his cheeks grow red, and his rushed words, you wonder if this is how Jeno felt when you ranted before. 

“I, personally, don’t want you going somewhere you don’t feel safe in, you know? With people who have hurt you. We could just hang out, talk, or something. I can show you a bunch of stuff my dad left for m–”

This time, Jeno’s shocked, blinking at you as your hand envelops his lips to halt his ranting.

“I’d love to stay over,” You mumble, dropping your hand from his face. “you’re the only one I feel safe with right now,” 

Jeno finally grins, feeling love resonate through his body, reaching out to place his palm on your cheek. The love spreads and multiplies as you lean into his palm, like a disease, but you know if that was the case you would have been infected for a long time already. 

“...so can I check out Poseidon’s trident?”

“Oh, for sure. That thing’s huge.”

[brokenpieces-72]

Older arctic fox reader, a good friend of Nikolai's, helps the 141 with a mission in Russian territory, and meeting our little wendigo as well.

Do what you want with this.

The reader is male, since I don’t usually do male readers. I’m definitely not imagining this guy looking like the anime KFC guy with fox ears and a bomber jacket…definitely not. Also lets access a different branch of the military with Special Investigations unit.

Fäks

You and Nik go back, and pretty far back. You served together in Russia and when he started working more “freelance” you got him whatever he needed to get whatever he needed. How did you two meet well funny story…he flirted with you. In his defence this was some time ago. Nik wasn't exactly sober either. Your hair was longer then and your body shape was slimmer than most. You’d been called beautiful by more than a few men before they noticed you were male. You started hitting on him back to see if he would pick up on your masculinity, before just asking Nik if he had figured it out yet. Nikolai saying you were very foxy for man is what cemented your relationship.

Nik didn’t tell you everything, but he kept in touch even after you parted ways. When a mission came up, and your commanding officer told you to stand down or to let it go, you reached out to Nik. Off the record wasn't uncommon for you, to the point you'd acquired a few safehouses for your own safety. You contacted Nik to see if you could get some help with your business trip, and he could deliver. When he told you the hybrids he could invite to your vacation home, your tail flicked. A wendigo, a dragon, a werewolf. You had to keep the list a little short but Nik wasn't about to just chauffer.

You stood outside the small base as the chopper landed, a smile on your face, under your scarf. Ice flecks whipped up around you, forcing you to raise your arm to protect your eyes. You didn’t approach until the rotors stopped. The rest shuffled out while Nik wasted no time coming to greet you.

“My brother.” Nik said, clasping your hand and providing a bear hug, which you return with a grin.

“Good to see you again comrade. This must be your friends.” You said, turning your attention to the newcomers.

“Captain.” Nikolai said, inviting Price over. “Meet Fäks. A good friend of mine.”

The dragon hybrid came over and shook your hand. He was bloody big, his horns making it difficult to keep a beanie on his head. You smiled, regardless of being a little intimidated.

“Welcome to Russia captain. It’s a pleasure.” You says.

“Pleasure is mine, Private Fäks.” Price said, nodding. All business this one. You were introduced to each one as friends. If there was a human who could bring hybrids together, it was Nik. Sure any human could arrange a meeting but Nik was special, looking past the hybrid while showing respect to it as well. As the soldiers filed out you noted each one. Gaz came up behind Price, shaking your hand in respect. Another human, Rudy greeted you next before going with Gaz towards the safe house. The final two exited the helicopter. A werewolf with his tail sticking out, saying to call him Soap. Behind him was a smaller soldier, with antlers and rabbit ears, calling herself Spirit. As the wolf and jackelope hurried inside, you took note of how Spirit was tagging along after Soap.

“Recruiting rather young.” You commented. Price nodded, his expression tells you it wasn't exactly his idea.

"Those two are a vision in the field." Price assured you. You looked forward to it.

Once inside and rooms sorted you wandered about, being as good of a host as you could. Nik would be sticking around to assist with extraction for this mission. You hadn’t gotten a chance to see the men with their jackets, scarves and toques off. The next day would be plenty of planning and decision making, figuring out how to break into a facility that was extracting various illegal materials and bi products from hybrids. This was a little personal for you, as you’d nearly had your own tail cut off or someone shave it for some sick mink.

There is a small lounge that could pass as a living room and you see the men have made themselves at home. You smiled reclining in a seat and immediately being asked by the harpy, about how you and Nik met. Nik loudly groaned, and buried his face in his hands, as you leaned forward ready to embarrass the shit out of him. Kyle already had a grin on his face.

“I was minding my own business whe-how old are you?” You said, interrupting yourself when Spirit walked in. She had a book in her hands, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“Uh…haven’t looked.” Spirit said. You looked at Nik.

“Not my idea.” Nik said shrugging.

“Apologies malen'kiy. Not used to such a young soldier.” You said. Didn’t mean to startle her.

“Come in Spirit, you’ll want to hear this story.” Gaz called to her. Spirit’s eyes went from wide to bright as she hurried to sit with Kyle. It’s cute how cozy she looked, with Gaz letting her snuggle up. Reminded you of someone else. You needed to focus on what was before you. Mission first, personal stuff later.

“Where was I…right I had a drink. Was enjoying some water, when Nik comes up and sits down like any old stranger.” You continued.

Originally Nik sent you a few files for the mission, since you would be leading it. Turns out he neglected to tell you what the wendigo was supposed to be. You were expecting a lanky humanoid, and when you were planning the mission that image remained.

“Wall here is pretty weak. I can find a hole nearby I’m sure.” You suggested when going over the plans. You looked up at Soap. “Unless a werewolf can?”

“I could do it.” Spirit suggested. “Wait, how much do I need to break it?”

You stood there for a moment, and looked up at the team. None of them said anything. The little jackalope just gave an expectant look. Were you missing something? You decided to take her at her word, but breaking the wall wasn't exactly what you were going for.

“On the other side is a lab. Not sure what’s in it but based on some of the cargo and shipments I’ve seen going in and out there’s a chance of explosives.” You continued.

“Door access might be easier.” Price suggested. Spirit looked a little disappointed.

“My thoughts as well.” You said.

“So breaking in from the outside is a no go?” Kyle asked. Certainly seemed more risky. So far breaking in with what access points you could reach would be more complicated with others but you couldn’t do this mission alone.

“I hate to suggest it, but could we slip in undetected?” Price asked. You considered that but didn’t like the idea.

“It would involve cages, some good acting, and a prayer.” You said. “Nik could drive a vehicle in with us in the back as cargo but the downside is we would need to either be drugged or knocked out. They won’t take “subjects” that are too active, and don’t want anyone knowing their way around in or out of the facility. Every stake out, all I could hear was breathing, no calls or cries. Overheard some drivers talkings about it with the guards.”

“Can we play dead?” Spirit suggested before looking at Soap. “No offence.”

Kyle snickered at Soap’s rolling eyes. You continued, “No, they test to ensure the hybrids are drugged. Guards will enter the truck for inspection before any of them go through.”

The young soldier seemed to shift from foot to foot. You could hear her heart picking up. When Soap put an arm over her shoulders she seemed to relax. The thought of cages made you a little uneasy as well, but it was easiest way.

“I don’t mean to devalue anyone, I have great respect for your work truly, but is bringing someone so young along a good idea?” You asked aloud.

“I’ll be fine.” Spirit said. You could hear her let out a huff, eyes firmly on the map. A strong malen’kiy.

Day before the mission you found yourself in the living space again, with Spirit sitting and drawing in her sketchbook. You had brought a sort of peace offering in the form of a muffin. She accepted it politely.

“Apologies for any offence I may have given you. It was not my intention.” You said. Spirit looked up a friendly expression on her face.

“I wasn’t offended.” Spirit said. You nodded and sat down, eyeing what she was working on. An arctic fox.

“Nik tells me you are a part of a program?” You asked. She nodded but fidgeted a bit. “Bad memories?”

“A bit.” She said, more focused on the sketch. You smiled.

“Do you need me to pose?” You teased. She looked at you smiling and shaking her head.

“I noticed you looking uneasy. While we were briefing.” You asked. When cages were brought up Spirit seemed to shift from foot to foot. Rudy would be a driver, along with Nikolai. You, Spirit, Price and Soap would be in cages and drugged. Gaz would provide overwatch. “If you don’t feel comfortable, you could always go in a cage with someone else, if it makes you feel safe.”

“You’re sure the drugs will be a lower dose?” She asked. You checked and double checked almost every hour, the doses were specific and precise, so they’d wake when they needed to, and wouldn’t be out any longer. You put a hand over your heart looking the young hybrid in the eyes.

“On my honour."

The truck is chilly but cold doesn’t bother you, nor does it bother Soap. Spirit had opted for staying in the same cage as Price who seemed a little chilly. Before the doses were administered, she curled up closer. Spirit also insisted on having her poncho. Soap was also adamant on this.

“You have a little comrade captain.” You commented. Price nodded while Spirit gave a proud and smug look.

“Always.” Price said, his wing covering Spirit. You hear a small laugh, and quiet words from Price. Gaz went to each of you, injecting the dose. It would put you all to sleep. When you woke it was go time. You and Soap would be in one part of the lab, while Spirit and Price would be in another. Horns and antlers were valuable, as were scales. Furs had value but only so much. You notice Spirit getting nervous, can hear her breathing becoming unsteady. Price was there to keep her calm.

“You got this milan’kiy.” You told her. The needle goes in, she winced and then leaned back against Price. Price adjusted her to keep her from falling before Nik injected him. Soap was fidgeting in his own box as Rudy put the needle in him next.

Then it was your turn…and you…fall……asleep.

When you awoke you were close by to Soap who was already assessing the cage. He was focused, and ready. There was an extraction team on the way, but getting the other hybrids to safety was top priority. You started to pick the lock when you heard the horrible screech of bending metal. Soap was half shifted.

“That works.” You said and hurried out leading him to some more cages to assess the situation and get some files. Import records, profiles, transactions, whatever you could do to get to the root. You lift blankets on cages to check and see plenty of younger hybrids. The program was about to have a long week. Soap was getting the security system turned off. You were a “late shipment” which meant you had some time. No one would come to assess you for testing or anything like that which made for a perfect opportunity to get as many out as you could.

“How are those cameras?” You asked.

“What cameras?” Soap responded. You gave him a chuckle as he joined you, peeking under a blanket. Another fox hybrid, shivering, and looking newly shaved. Seeing soap, fhe fox cowered. Soap backed off, as you hushed the young kid.

“Не волнуйся. Мы здесь, чтобы помочь вам. Просто держись крепче.” You said. The kid nodded, eyes a little brighter. The blanket goes back down, and you stand up.

“Aye, Fäks. Found some shipments.” Soap called over. You came up to him, seeing the crates with smaller containers. The labels were going to a few high end companies. Disgusting, all of it. There was a barking sound. The two of them turned and saw the white Cadejo. Rudy had returned, which meant the guards wouldn’t be an issue. Soap got to the door and knocked, getting a response from Rudy immediately and letting him in.

"Find everything?" He asked.

"Downloading now." You informed him seeing the loading bar come up. Of course their tech was old and slow.

"Nikolai is on the other end." Rudy mentioned standing next to you, to see the progress himself.

"How is fairing?" You asked. There was a loud bang which told you something wasn't going right.

"Soap, Rudy, stay here." You instructed immediately. If there was one thing you didn't like it was sitting and waiting, and right now there was a chance a good friend of yours was in danger. You don't wait for their response as you leave the room and see a couple guys in lab coats rushing out. You drew a knife from your boot, shanking them both with quick and simple agility. You can hear odd noises and when you get the chance to look inside, you see Spirit's wendigo form, roaring and growling at whatever guards decided to poke her with a stick. Or cattle prod. Clearly they'd taken her out of the cage, intending to do some last minute assessment or maybe to get her antlers off. Price was taking out any guards that tried to go for him while Spirit tried clawing at them. Nik still had a weapon from his disguise, firing from whatever cover he could find from the tables and empty cages.

You don't hesitate to get more primtive, your blade doing only so much when it comes to armoured gear. You claw and bite, yes you have teeth, and you aren't afraid to dive into smaller space to remove anyone wanting to use the element of surprise. Thankfully, the fighting doesn't last long and you don't have too much blood in your mouth.

"Anyone broken?" Price called, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"Good here." You said.

"Fine here captain." Nik called, as you gave him a hand up.

Spirit made a cooing sound, shuffling from foot to foot. You approached her and she looked down at you tilting her head. A jackelope wendigo hybrid. Certainly a new one. Seeing the scraps of her clothes, you understand why she wore the poncho. Spirit shifted back to her more human state, retrieving a weapon from one of the guards. Still seemed a little shaken, but ready and at attention.

"Files should be finishing up. We have plenty of hybrids to extract." You said.

"Let get to it." Price said.

Plenty of reports and paperwork to write and sign for this side mission. The hybrids were either put into a program like Spirit's or were waiting for their family to retrieve them. You checked up on Nikolai, and as always he was still holding strong. After completing your last signature for the day, you got up to go find him. Knowing him, he'd likely have a drink, and you could use one.

"Figured you'd need one." Nik said, offering you a poured glass. As always, he'd thought of everything. You took off your jacket, letting it rest on your shoulders as you sat with him at the table. "Long day."

"Indeed." You said taking a long sip. The two of you nursed your glasses.

"How are you?" Nik asked you.

"That's your best pick-up line?" You asked, recalling the night you two had met. Nik laughed. "I'll be fine."

"You see your little one at all these days?" He asked.

"I avoid it." You admitted. Nik shook his head, pouring you another.

"You should see them. Wait a little, but go see them." Nik said. You could never turn him down. Even when you two first met. He was right though. You should go see your little one. Spirit had reminded you of them, and they deserved to have you around even if you didn't think so.

"I will. They're still reading, and I've started doing it too. Plenty to talk about I'm sure." You said. Nik nodded, and you spent the rest of the evening, catching up, inviting the others to join, and remembering the good times.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[whatsnewalycat]

like a moth(man) to a flame(thrower)

pairing: frankie “catfish” morales x f!reader

summary: just a deeply self-indulgent meet cute with frankie at a halloween house party.

rating: t

words: 900+

warnings: drinking alcohol, party

notes: happy halloweeeeen!

—

In lieu of red solo cups, a long-standing tradition in house party lore, your cousin opted to get black solo cups. Which was a nice touch, you had to give it to her.

You picked one off the tall stack and wrote your name on it in metallic sharpie. As you ladled the crimson “fangria” into your cup, someone dressed as Richard Simmons bounced through the cramped kitchen behind you on their way to the basement.

Sound erupted from downstairs when they opened the door, a racket of inebriated conversation and Monster Mash by Bobby "Boris" Pickett & The Crypt Kickers, then dampened when they closed it.

A skunky odor hit you after a two-second delay. You turned to look at the door, taking a sip of the fruity wine concoction, and considered joining the livelier half of the party. The floorboards beneath your feet bumped from the bass, as if trying to convince you.

If you didn’t taken one more look around before submitting to its call, you might’ve missed him.

This guy, leaning against a dining room table with his arms of his bomber jacket crossed over his powder blue hoodie. Army green cargo pants, sunglasses, a flame thrower strapped to his back. Even the big, dumb cowboy hat thing. It caused you to burst out laughing, recognition tickling your fancy.

He did a double take, only a glance at first, probably just sourcing the noise. But his attention quickly returned, alongside a crooked smile, lingering on you for a few seconds before he turned back to his conversation with an eerily spot-on Jason Voorhees.

Your pulse skittered. There was something in the way he did this. Intent.

Only another moment went by before he parted ways with Jason and started towards you.

Acting casual, he grabbed a cup from the tower and wrote his name on it, asking you, “How’s it going?”

“MacReady.”

He raised his eyebrows in question, “What?”

You pointed to his getup, “The Thing, right?”

“Oh!” Understanding brightened his features. A big, charming smile spread across his face when he looked down at himself, nodding, “Yeah, MacReady from The Thing.”

“I love it,” you grinned.

“Thanks.”

Drifting a little closer, he studied your costume. Confusion creased his forehead. He tilted his head up slightly and tugged on your feather antennae, as if trying to pluck a clue from it.

“You are… a, uhhh—” he frowned and shook his head, “I don’t know, a scary moth?”

“Mothman.”

“Mothman?”

“Right, mothman.”

“Never heard of him,” he chuckled as he filled his cup. Taking a sip, he leaned back against the counter, even closer. His gaze felt hot on your cheeks. He said, “You look nice, though.”

“Thanks,” your eyes dropped to his cup and you read his name aloud, “Frankie.”

“You’re welcome.”

You licked your lips, then told him, “That’s one of my favorite movies. The Thing, I mean.”

“It’s a classic.”

“Ok, sorry—I need to talk about this costume more. You have a fucking flamethrower and everything. And the hat—” You giggled and gave the visor of the floppy hat a playful smack, “It is ridiculous.”

Drifting a little closer, he chuckled and held up the business end of the flamethrower, “You know how many people have asked me if this is real tonight?”

“How many?”

“None. And that’s a goddamn travesty.”

“Uh-huh,” you smirked, meeting his eyes through the sunglasses, “Well, is it real?”

He smiled and shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Maybe yes or maybe no?”

“Maybe yes.”

“Shut the fuck up, are you serious?”

He nodded.

“Can we light shit on fire? Oh my god, please? My cousin has a fire pit—”

“Whoa, slow down, Sparky. The tank is empty.”

You deflated, shaking your head as you murmured into your cup, “What a tease.”

Frankie laughed, “A tease, really?”

“You can’t tell a gal you’re sporting a real flamethrower then not set shit on fire with it.”

Shaking his head, he said, “Tell you what, give me your phone number, we can set up a time for me to show you how to use it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Heat rose to your cheeks and you smiled, “Really?”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, then handed it to you.

As you saved your contact information to his phone, you said, “I know this might just be a cute thing you’re saying to get my phone number, but I fully expect you to follow through.”

“You have my word.”

When you gave back his phone, his hand brushed up against yours, and something sparked inside you. He tucked the phone into his pocket. You felt him staring at you, and glanced down at his mouth as his tongue peaked out to wet his lips. For a moment, the two of you stood there quietly, letting static build between your bodies, pulling you closer.

The door to the basement swung open, filling the room with Thriller by Michael Jackson. A worse-for-wear Hollywood Hulk Hogan stumbled up the stairs into the kitchen and closed the door behind him.

He squinted between you and your new friend, swaying a little, then recognition kicked in and Hogan yelled, “FISH!”

“Jesus Christ, Benny,” he muttered in response, setting down his cup to start towards him, “You can barely stand.”

“I’m fffffine,” Benny swatted at his friend.

“Let’s get you home.”

He let out a dramatic groan, but accepted Frankie‘s arm slung around his back.

Frankie looked at you, eyebrows knit together, apologies written all over his face, and asked, “Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

You both lingered there for a moment, despite the dead weight hanging off one side of him, then he said, “It was nice meeting you.”

His voice was low and sultry. It heated you from the inside.

“You too,” you grinned wide and nodded, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He returned the smile, then glanced over at his friend, “Alright, drunk ass, let’s go.”

[forlovvers]

( always )

pair: ex!jay x gn!reader | genre: fluff/angst idk | warning(s): none! | wc: 800 ish | synopsis: in which you and jay see each other for the first time in three years. 

lynne’s notez🗒️: jay is very always by daniel caesar coded

your late nights consisted of grocery shopping because you never had time to make the trip during the day. you think you prefer it like this; quiet and unoccupied, just some older ladies here and there. 

you walk down the aisles, shopping cart full of miscellaneous items. you reach into your jacket pocket and rummage around to pull out a crumpled letter and your grocery list. huh. you hadn’t even realized you had had that in there.

regardless, you stuff the letter back into your pocket and unfold your grocery list. you read down your list and make a mental notes of the few things you needed left. you make a turn into the next aisle and see the next item you need at the top-most shelf. 

you internally groan. top shelves were your number one enemy.

you outstretch your arms and as best as you could, you just barely touch the item. you let out a big huff and try again.

“do you need help?” the familiar voice asks, and you want to turn to look at who it belonged to but the man gently grabs the sides of your waist and moves you aside. the action is short, but it leaves you feeling a little dizzy.

“here you go,” he turns to you to hand you the item when his voice trails off. you’re met with the kind eyes of jay park. his hair is tousled and blonde. he looks the same for the most part, just a bit more into his features. his oversized bomber jacket really sticks out and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal his arms.

it had been three years since you last saw him. you remember the day clearly when you told him you were leaving for the states and didn’t plan on coming back. jay had been in your apartment, making dinner when you dropped the news. you remember him asking “did i do something wrong?”

in fact, it had nothing to do with him. and everything to do with yourself. he didn’t even say goodbye at the airport when you left, but when you got on the plane, there was a small piece of parchment stuck in your wallet. it was a love letter, signed off by jay.

beating yourself up over losing the love of your life was your routine for the next three years. most of your days in the beginning consisted of wondering what he was up to, did he think about you like you did him? eventually, you had to let him go. 

but here, in this grocery store, jay stands tall before you.

“i didn’t know you were back in town.” jay laughs awkwardly, handing you the item. you accept it and his hands brush over your skin, sending shockwaves to your brain. 

“yeah, i got back a week ago.” you say, for some reason you can’t look him in the eyes. he nods profoundly and when you turn away to start walking, he follows. his steps soon fall into sync with yours.

“how long are you back in town for?” jay asks, his voice honey like you’d always loved.

“i’m not sure. i wanted to see my parents.” you respond. you pick something off the shelves and place it in the cart to distract yourself from your thundering heart.

“ah,” his voice is thick with disappointment. jay can’t help but stare at your profile, and suddenly it feels like you’re both seventeen again. “i wrote that song you were always convincing me to write.” he says, diverting the attention away from the topic.

“oh really?” your words are piqued with interest and for the first time since that night three years ago, you look him in the eyes. you knew jay loved music. it traveled in his veins and pumped his blood, but he wasn’t too sure on pursuing it. you were always trying to get him to go further with his music, although he never quite got there.

“what’s it about?”

“oh um,” jay sheepishly rubs his nape. “it’s about you.”

you swear time slows and jay stops and turns fully to look at you. your breath hitches, yet he continues. “i was losing my head over you and needed to get it out.” 

“look y/n, it’s really great to see you again, and all i’ve done is think about you for the past three years.” jay steps forward, closer to you. “but i can give you time and space, just let me know if you want to talk things out, because i still love you.” there’s a fond smile on his lips as he opens your hand and places a small crumpled piece of paper, written in messy handwriting his new number and,

“i’ll always be here.”

[lotstradamus]

inspired by the manchester anon haha but do you have any tips and suggestions for visiting leeds? 🩷

I've lived here for 2 years now (!!!) but somehow I still don't really know my way around and just go to the same 5 places and use google maps to get anywhere else. it's sad. but here's some shit I love:

Grindhouse - cheap drinks, loads and loads of seats, never too full, music a reasonable volume, and they project 80s movies on the back wall. we once sat in here for 2 hours cos Stand By Me was on. one time we watched the bar staff earnestly tell a group of women on a hen do that the bar was closed and they weren't serving any more drinks, at 7:45pm. 10/10.

Rudy's - only 9 cities* in this fair nation have a Rudy's, so I'm going to keep reccing it for everyone else. perfect Neapolitan pizza. *Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Birmingham, Nottingham, Durham, London, York, Liverpool - if you live in one of these places and haven't been to Rudy's yet, sort it out.

Neon Cactus - go here on a Wednesday and order wings, and you'll get half price margs. lots of great Mexican scran. don't take anyone too picky or over 50, because the price for the great food and vibes is that at least one thing you order will be incorrect. but roll with it. half price margs, man.

Empire Cafe - book in advance if you want to sample the delights of Empire Cafe, cos there's like 6 tables max. everything is seasonal, changes on the daily, and is insanely delicious. if you want to experience heaven, order the steak and chips with salsa verde. there is NOTHING like it.

Stuzzi - another seasonal, small plate sort of place, but Italian. amazing food and a gorgeous restaurant. go with a big group and order one of everything.

Eat Your Greens - ANOTHER seasonal restaurant! this one is farm-to-fork and organic. I can’t speak to the quality as I haven’t actually been, but I am a frequenter of their GREENGROCER, which is MEGA. last time I think I left with natty wine, pâté, some insane tinned fish, a jar of harissa and a bag of sunset potatoes. if you like food, go here.

SARTO - fresh, handmade pasta and picky bits. another great place to go with a group and order all the starters. I had a celeriac pasta there last year that I think about on a fairly regular basis; I picked it cos it was the weirdest sounding thing on the menu and it was fucking mouthwatering. good quality and good people! and it's next door to The Wardrobe, so perfect for a pre-gig tea.

Santiago Bar - like Grindhouse (alternative, casual) but the music is louder and you'll find yourself doing tequila shots at 1am and screaming along to, like, Don Broco. it's the best.

Blue Collar Boys - as a rule I hate 'vintage' clothes shops (overpriced, ugly, everything is XXS), but this place seems to specialise solely in American t-shirts and sweatshirts from the 90s in exactly my size, and everything is £10. this is amazing and a huge bargain if you find something like vintage Wranglers and a Playboy bomber jacket (£20, my wife) but not so amazing or a bargain if you find 3 t-shirts with holes in (£30, me). we've never been without finding shit we love. they only open on random weekends, and they always seem to have more stuff than they could possibly ever sell. it's a freaky vintage alternate universe.

The Corn Exchange - a big gorgeous ol' building full of little businesses. vintage, handmade, tattoos, coffee, jewellery, independent brands, yarn, shoes, a barbers, a bookshop, they've got it all. very easy to spend £100 and 6 hours. every so often they have a market on the bottom floor. perfect tiny representation of Leeds: quirky, independent, delicious, cool.

Silver's Deli - this is a 9-minute train ride away in Bramley (my ends!) but has become THEE buzzy foodie spot recently. go on a sunny saturday morning (cos you will probably have to sit outside) and order the everything sandwich. thank me later. if they have scotch eggs or sausage rolls on, I beseech you, order both. and if you want the sunday special prepare to get there at 11 and fight.

Against the Grain - if you've come to Bramley for Silver's, you may as well trundle 10 minutes up the road and visit the best bar in Leeds. cosy, casual, full of locals, hidden in Swinnow Mills. it's a sit-around-and-chat-to-people sort of place, with bonus charcuterie boards AND a pizza van on weekends. we are here A LOT, because Gray's Salon and Rose and Thorn Tattoo are both in the Mill, and we give them all our money. oh! and dog friendly. sooo many dogs.

Project House/Galleria - if you've gotten the train out to Bramley for Silver's and ATG, jump on the 72 back to town and get off at Project House to eat MORE food. Galleria is a great place to get breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and Project House has EVERYTHING (depending on the day). yoga! gigs! vintage fairs! a bi-annual tattoo convention meets makers market with food vendors called Hand of Glory! check what's on and head on down to support local!

Kirkstall Bridge Inn - another one local(ish) to me, but worth travelling out of town for; a PROPER pub (i.e. no tv, no sports, no shite) that does roasts upstairs and lets dogs in downstairs. outdoor seating right by the canal, and every so often they put something on and the car park turns into a tiny festival. Kirkstallpalooza is a highlight. great place to finish a nice canal walk (who am I?!).

tl;dr sorry that this is obnoxiously long, I love Leeds

[octuscle]

I’ve done lots of swimming and exercise in my life but I’ve never really put on any proper muscle, also doesn’t help that I look kinda baby faced. So I’ve always gotten a little jealous when I see pics of big burly bearded rugby players or like wrestlers and athletes who seem to ooze manliness, any chance you could do something to help ease my jealousy?

There are certainly worse things than having the lean and toned body of a swimmer. But I can understand you, I myself have tried for a damn long time and in vain to develop the body of a real man. But even I somehow always remained the boyish swimmer. Let's see what we can do.

In the morning, before work, you swim your usual laps in the pool. 40 lanes of 50 meters each, the normal training. But when you get out of the pool today, you are horrified. What a shitty time! You haven't been this slow in a long time. And yet you feel in top shape! It's silly, but as punishment for the bad time, you do push-ups and burpees on the edge of the pool. Fortunately, there is hardly anyone here at this time. Officially, the pool will not open before a few minutes. But as a member of the swimming club you are allowed to enter the pool earlier. The pool attendant watches you do your exercises with a grin and asks if you've been working out more for mass lately. With your body you should have problems gliding through the water. You look down at yourself. Fuck, yeah! Your pecs have definitely gained mass. As you shower, your hands glide over your body. Feels different. Better! And especially hairier. Fuck, you really need to shave. Why actually? You like to soap your fur on your chest.

Did you make a mistake in the locker? These are not your clothes… Instead of your suit, there's a wifebeater, a boiler suit and a bomber jacket. Jockstrap and white socks. Everything is not clean anymore… Heavy work boots. Yeah, right. You have to go to the construction site now. You're a plumber. Your van is parked outside the swimming pool. Hey, it must be the chlorine, you're really crazy in the head. Or maybe you're just hungry. On the way to the construction site, you quickly get yourself a couple of meatball rolls. Yes, it's only 6:30 a.m., but you need meat now. At the construction site, it's all about rugby again. The games of the last weekend. The games of the next weekend. A colleague says that as coach of the Junior team you should be harder on his son. It would be a dream of his if you could make him as much of a stud as you are.

You like the job as a coach. But as long as you can, you'd rather be on the field yourself. But before your training starts, you do a few sit-ups to warm up. You are slowly approaching the age of 40. But you still have the body of a Greek god. You pause for a moment in your workout. Your colleague's son comes out of the clubhouse and waves to you. Horny guy. Yes, you can really take him a little harder…

[pensat-i-fet]

Birthday twins (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Of course, I had to do a little birthday imagine for the birthday boy! 🎂 Credit to @faye01mcfc for the ginger shot idea! Hope you guys enjoy it!! ❤️**

Word count: 1852

Masterlist

Wattpad

What do you get for the guy that has it all? And that can buy anything he wants but doesn’t have yet…well, that was currently your most significant problem as you walked around the streets of Madrid. Manchester City were in the Spanish capital to try and get revenge after the way they lost in the previous edition of the Champions League, but for you, it was also a chance to do some touristy stuff and to get some shopping done.

You soon discovered that your second favourite thing called Serrano, after the ham, was the street that had that name and where you could visit some of the most luxurious stores. The architecture of the area was also stunning so you took plenty of photos and videos in between all the shopping.

“Should we go to Loewe next?”, asked Sasha, who was also in Madrid for the match and became your shopping buddy the second you mentioned your plan.

“Sure, I love their menswear. I might find something there”.

Yes, back to your problem. Sunday was going to be a very big day for you. Not only was it your birthday but it was also your boyfriend’s birthday. Meeting someone who was born on the same day as you and him becoming your boyfriend felt like some sort of destiny thing. Like you were meant to be together. But it didn’t make buying a present for him less of a pain.

Rúben had everything he wanted. And when he wanted something new, he bought it. He really was that type of guy. You wanted to write down all the things he mentioned liking for future gifts…only to find a parcel arriving home a couple of days later containing that same thing he mentioned. Really annoying.

“I like that jacket”, you said, pointing at a gorgeous bomber jacket. You loved it when Rúben wore those.

“Get it for him!!”, exclaimed Sasha, happy you finally found something you liked. “Should we go to Sephora next?”

“Duh! Always”.

So the next shop you visited was Sephora, where you bought way too many things for you…and some for Rúben. A little plan formed in your head as to how you were going to give him the presents.

                                         **

Finding the perfect gifts was hurdle number 1. Number 2 was finding out when to exchange them since City played an away match on Sunday. They were heading to Liverpool to play against Everton so it wasn’t the longest trip but…should you give him your presents before he left? After he came back? And what was he planning on doing with the presents he got for you?

Saturday was also the day you were going out to celebrate with your friends, leaving Sunday as the day for a big family dinner. So everything needed to be sorted out before you left to meet your friends.

“Last party as a 25-year-old then?”, asked Rúben, getting inside the room while you finished getting ready.

“I’m getting too old for this. I need to party as much as I can before my back starts to hurt and all that”, you joked.

“The hangovers will get worse too…”.

“And you’ll use that as an excuse to try to feed me weird mushroom concoctions. I can’t let that happen”.

He shook his head before burrowing his face in your neck and muttering against your skin. “We should spend our birthdays together”.

“Call in sick?”, you suggested but he only laughed.

“We are the same age. Literally”.

Only a couple of minutes later, your phone started to buzz with a couple of texts from one of your friends saying they were waiting for you downstairs.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow, old man”.

“I was born at 8 pm, not during the night like you, so…”.

He shut you up with a kiss. “Have fun”.

“I will. Good luck tomorrow”.

What you didn’t know was that Rúben was actually looking forward to you leaving because he needed to get some things ready too before leaving to meet the team. Why did he have to play on your birthday?

                                   **

You made it home…late. But still set the alarm to 7.30 so you could say a happy birthday to Rúben the moment he woke up.

“Happy birthday!”, he said, beating you to it.

“Ugh, I hate you. But happy birthday my love! Or…feliz aniversário?", you tried to say, reading the note you had left on your bedside table. "Did I get it right? It’s what Google translated happy birthday to”.

“We’ll work on the pronunciation but yes, it’s correct. Thank you!”

“Look inside your pillowcase”.

That left him even more speechless than your terrible Portuguese accent. “Are you still drunk?”

“Ha ha. Do it”.

So he did, and there he found a birthday card from you.

“How did you…”, but before he could finish asking, he realized how.

“Let’s just say I asked a little fairy for help”.

“Come on, Bernardo is small but not that small”, he said, making you laugh. “Now I understand how I lost my room key and how he was the one to find it so quickly”.

Rúben opened the card starting to read it. He laughed at all your attempts to write to him in reading the card, he had to laugh at all your attempts to add little words in Portuguese. But he loved them, and all the other words in the card too.

"Go make some tea".

"I don't want to leave the bed now, Rúben…".

"Go make some tea", he insisted.

"Why?"

"Just do it".

Leaving the bed was tough but you made your way to the kitchen and found another birthday card, this one for you, behind the kettle.

"Great minds and all that, right?"

Since you were already there, you put the kettle on and moved away so the noise wouldn't disturb your call.

Reading Rúben's card put a huge smile on your face. He was so cheesy. And you loved it.

"Are you making tea then?"

"Yes, let me grab a mug and a teabag…".

"Get the mug I got you for Christmas".

You frowned but did as he told you, finding a note underneath it. The note had instructions on where to find your first gift.

"This is fun", you told him, giggling like a schoolgirl. "Also, open the big pocket of your suitcase".

He also didn't ask why, guessing what it was all about. And when he opened the pocket he saw a note telling him to go find Bernardo so he could get his first two presents.

When he went to find his friend, you started to look for your gifts. Finding them and more clues about the next one's location.

He overdid it, of course. But it was the last "gift" that you liked the most. It was just a note telling you he had called your boss so he would know you weren't going to work on Monday. Rúben had a day off after the match and that would be the perfect day for you to celebrate alone. No family, no friends…just the birthday boy and the birthday girl spoiling each other.

                                     **

Both your parents and Rúben's joined you at your place to watch the match and then wait for him to get back and go to the restaurant you had booked for the day. That was, if any of you was actually hungry enough to eat dinner after all the cake you had been eating. Your dad, being the baking enthusiast he was, made sure there was enough cake to feed half of Manchester. And some cupcakes too.

"He's back", you yelled, jumping from the sofa so you could run to the door and half tackle Rúben. Good thing he was strong or you would have ended up on the floor.

"Missed me?"

"What am I supposed to celebrate without my birthday twin by my side?", you told him, pouting.

"Well, I'm here now. Let me say hello to our guests and get ready to go to dinner. And then I'm all yours".

You also needed to get ready but wanted to surprise your boyfriend and were already wearing something nice enough for dinner. He thought that was your outfit for the night when he saw you. But when he left, you ran to the guest room to put on the dress you planned on wearing that night.

"Darling, you look so beautiful", said your mum.

"Thanks. I bought this in Madrid the other day".

"Another birthday present for me?", asked Rúben, getting out of the room wearing some nice black trousers and a matching shirt. And holding the jacket you bought for him for Christmas to complete the look. He looked like a whole meal. A much better meal than the one you would be offered at the posh restaurant you were going to.

"You could try wearing it too but I'm not sure it's the right size…".

"Seeing it you wear it is much better", he whispered before taking your hand and following your families to the door.

You were getting ready for a toast when you noticed Rúben picking up his glass of water.

"Making a toast with water is bad luck", you told him, passing him a glass of champagne and seeing his hand move. "Don't you dare pick up the glass with juice. Come on, just a little sip".

He obliged and you all toasted to another year of health, happiness, love and success.

                                      **

"Nooooo".

Hearing the alarm go off on Monday was never a good feeling. Especially when you remembered you were supposed to have the day off.

"Wakey wakey, old lady. I know age makes it harder to leave the bed in the mornings but we have a day full of activities ahead of us", said Rúben, jumping from the bed and leaving you there, still half asleep.

"I'm younger than you!"

"By 12 hours!"

You heard movement in the kitchen and sat up slightly, wondering what he was doing. But you soon found out, hearing his footsteps coming closer and a familiar melody.

"Is that happy birthday in Portuguese?", you asked and he nodded, holding a little cupcake in his hand. He put a candle on it too, which made you laugh.

"Make a wish".

You blew the candle and made your wish before kissing him and taking a bite of the cupcake.

"Wait! I have something for you too!"

Copying his actions, you went to the kitchen to find something for Rúben and came back to the room singing happy birthday to him.

"I hate you", he said when he saw you were holding one of his ginger shots with a candle on it too.

"Well, you weren't going to eat the cupcake so…".

But he blew the candle as well, making another wish before tickling you and making you laugh so hard you probably had woken up the whole city.

"Happy birthday, annoying but beautiful birthday twin".

"Happy birthday, my love. There's no one I would rather share my birthday and my life with than you".

[lilaccrxsh]

Fight and Fall in Love - 1986!Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader (18+)

Description: You and Pete Mitchell had mutual friends in the Bradshaw's, but whenever you were together all you would do is argue and rile the other person up. That was until Carole decided something had to be done...

Content warnings: unprotected sex, enemies to lovers, arguing, “there was only one bed”, 100% self-indulgence from the author

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: Honestly guys, this was just incredibly self-indulgent. Unfortunately, young TC/1986!Mav is literally my perfect type so I'm blaming everything on that. *posts this and runs*

Thank you to @unmistakablyunknown for being my beta and removing my dyslexia from the google doc &lt;3

You had known Carole Bradshaw before she even became Carole Bradshaw. You’d been friends since middle school, growing up and facing all of the adventures life throws at you together. When she met Nick, or “Goose”, you were her maid of honour at their wedding. Carole was really one of your closest friends.

“Have you decided what you want to do for your birthday?” Goose was sitting with his arm around his wife, her smaller body curled into the side of him on the sofa. Bradley was asleep upstairs, so the house was silent and dark apart from the talking and images from the tiny television. 

“I think I just want something nice and small. Maybe just have friends over for dinner. Bradley can be involved then too.�� Carole replied. 

“I like the sound of that. Who would you want to come?”

“I was thinking… just Y/N and Mav.” 

Goose peered down at Goose, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. 

“Why? I thought you wanted your birthday to be ‘nice’.” 

Carole laughed softly. “It will be. We need to get those two together in the same room so they can finally get over themselves.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“It’s so obvious that they’re attracted to each other.” Carole said plainly, “Whenever we all meet they can’t stop looking at the other constantly. They clearly like each other, they just don’t know what to do about it.” 

“Y/N and Mav!?”

“Yup.”

“But all they do is argue with each other?”

“Exactly.”

Carole just watched her husband as the penny dropped for him. 

“Oh…” 

“Uh-huh, so I think it’s only fair if we give them a little nudge, don’t you think?” 

“You’re the boss, honey.” Goose pressed a kiss to her hairline. “What did you have in mind?” 

~~~

You pulled onto the Bradshaw’s drive just as the roar of a motorbike engine cut off behind you. You didn’t even need to look in your rear view mirror to know who had just parked their bike right behind your bumper. 

For a moment you considered not even leaving your car. If this wasn’t for Carole’s birthday, you might have done. It would have been easy to just reverse back onto the road, even if you did take out the motorbike in the process. You didn’t dislike the sound of that. The only downside was damage to your car.

There was no point sitting there behind the wheel any longer. You grabbed your overnight bag off the passenger seat and climbed out. Standing before you was the one person you were hoping not to see tonight. 

Pete Mitchell looked exactly the same as the last time you’d met. Aviators covered his eyes, making his expression unreadable, his dark hair was still cut short for the navy, and he was wearing that patch-covered bomber jacket that was at least one size too big for him. Light washed jeans, a white T-shirt and that bomber jacket - was that all he ever wore? 

There was an awkward moment before anyone spoke. You just stood staring at each other. 

“No one told me you were coming.” Pete’s tone was neutral, apart from an underlying hint of annoyance. 

“No one told me you were coming.” You repeated. 

Again another moment of silence. You were the one to break it, slamming your car door closed and locking it. You stalked past him, marching up to the front door. Pete reached your side as you knocked on the door. You purposely stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge his presence. 

When Carole opened the door, she seemed shocked but strangely delighted, to see you two standing together on her doorstep. You were welcomed inside, it was nice to be back at the Bradshaw’s again. 

Soon you found yourself standing in the hallway conjoining the living room and kitchen. Carole was busy going back and forth. 

“Why didn’t you say he was coming?” You hissed at her, stepping aside so she could walk past you with a bowl. 

“Would you have still come?” Carole raised her eyebrows at you, a twinkle in her eyes. 

“Yes, because I love you, but I would have liked a bit of warning.”

“Oh come on, Y/N. Maverick isn’t that bad. He’s really great if you get to know him.”

“I think I already know enough…” Everytime you and Pete Mitchell were in the vicinity of each other it didn’t end wonderfully. One of you would end up taunting the other, resulting in a battle of wit and cynicism. No-one ever seemed to win. The residing dislike just seemed to continue to the next meeting. 

The man in question was too distracted at the moment to bother that you were standing in the doorway. He was crouched down, sitting back on his heels to fiddle around with little Bradley’s toy trains. The kid laughed as Pete imitated the sound of a train starting off, pushing it along the carpet as if it was chasing the engine Bradley was holding. 

“How can you dislike him, Y/N?” Carole was smiling widely, enjoying her husband’s best friend having a beautiful relationship with their son. You opted not to answer her. At that minute, you couldn’t conjugate a proper retort. In front of you was a side to Pete Mitchell that you hadn’t seen before - fun-loving and carefree. He’d always seemed put-out and on the offensive with you in the past. You wondered what it would be like to have a nice and pleasant conversation with him for once…

You only realised you’d been lost in thought, transfixed on the sight before you when Carole nudged your arm. She wore a knowing smile. 

“Help me with dinner?” 

~~~

The plan Carole had concocted involved you, Pete, and her guest bedroom. Her one guest room.  

So when the two of you were led into the guest room, the door closed behind you, you found yourselves on the same side… of one double bed. 

“This isn’t going to work.”

“I’m actually going to agree with you.”

Pete was the first to move from the doorway, scoping out the rest of the room and analysing the bed. There was no couch or anything alike. 

“Pete look, I’m not exactly delighted by this either.” 

He ignored what you’d said, instead rounding on you and asking a completely different question. 

"Why do you always call me 'Pete'? No one calls me that."

"Because that's your name, idiot. I'm not one of your flying buddies so why would I call you anything else."

Pete just shrugged, but the hard set of his jaw didn’t relax. Did he want you to call him Maverick? It seemed an odd way of showing so. 

"It's the night before Carole's birthday, are you really going to make a fuss?" 

He huffed, but conceded, dramatically throwing his bag onto the floor near the door. 

"I want the left side." Pete stalked over to the bed before flopping down on top of the covers, spreading out his legs the length of the bed and putting his hands behind his head. He pushed his aviators down over his eyes and then was silent. 

You stood, also still and silent, wondering whether or not you would be able to survive the night. But as you had said, both you and Pete were here for a reason and you both cared enough to not cause a scene. 

"I'm going to the bathroom." You told him, collecting your wash bag and sleepwear from your backpack. You received only an uncaring grunt from the man who you were meant to share a bed with tonight. 

You spent a decent amount of time out of the room in the hope that when you returned, Pete would have changed and maybe, if you were lucky, be asleep. 

Luck was not completely on your side. 

He had changed, or well, removed items of clothing. His bomber jacket and white t-shirt were laying in a heap by his bag. The only thing Pete was wearing when you re-entered the room were loose shorts. He was still lounged out on top of the covers, giving you no other choice than to stare at his incredibly well-sculpted torso. 

"Is that really what you're going to sleep in?"

It seemed Pete hadn't noticed your presence, as he jumped slightly when you spoke to him. He looked down his own body through the dark lenses of the aviators. Confusion covered his features as you could see the furrow of his forehead. When he let out a quick laugh, turning completely to you while smirking, did you realise you'd made a mistake. By commenting, you'd shown you cared in some capacity.

"Why? Too distracting for you, sweetheart?" Pete's grin was huge. 

Yes. 

"No."

"Sure." With that he took the aviators off, placing them carefully on the nightstand. 

You were still standing by the closed door, making no effort to join him. 

"Are you going to stand there all night? Some of us actually want to sleep."

"Has anyone ever told you you're an asshole?"

"Yes, frequently." 

Now he'd got rid of the glasses, you could feel his eyes following you as you circled the bed. He was still sporting that smug smirk. You cursed yourself for letting him get under your skin, and for showing him that he had done. 

You hesitated, hand resting on the covers, reluctant to pull them back and crawl under them. With Pete still lying on top of them, there would be no accidental touching. The sheets were crisp against your legs, part of you wished you’d packed longer pants to sleep in - not shorts. You lay on your back, not wanting to face Pete, or even turn away from him. You’d turned the ceiling light off before you came over, now the only light was from the lamp next to Pete. 

“Do you want me to turn this off?” He asked, as if he could read your thoughts. He still hadn’t moved. You hummed a response indicating that you did want him to. In the dark, maybe you could pretend he wasn’t there. 

Pete reached for the switch, and the two of you were plunged into darkness. Neither person spoke for a minute or two after that. Once your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, you could see the slow rise and fall of Pete’s chest as he breathed. You couldn’t believe what was happening. You were lying next to the man who you’d been at odds with for years… and he wasn’t wearing much at all. 

You would be lying to yourself if you hadn’t thought at least once that Pete Mitchell was incredibly attractive. All of the times you’d been out with Carole and Goose, be it at a bar or just somewhere with Bradley in tow, Pete would have a chorus of females giving him attention. Through all of the petty comments you’d throw at each other, there was always a tiny part of you that wanted him to ignore them. Ignore them and continue bickering over whatever stupid thing was causing an feud that day. Could you even go as far to say you enjoyed fighting with him?

This might have been the longest time you two had been in the same room without a negative snipe. 

“That’s actually too cold.” Pete suddenly whined, shuffling the duvet from under him so you both were covered. You lay still, unable to move as you felt his knee bump against your left leg. Once he was settled, silence fell over the room again. You weren’t tired. The amount of adrenaline pumping through you would make sleep impossible. 

“Pete?” You’d spoken before you even realised what you were doing. Pete seemed as surprised as you. 

“Yes, Y/N?”

"I have a question."

"Ok..."

"Do you always wear the dog tag?"

You asked because a sliver of light was reflecting from the metal around his neck. 

There was a pause before Pete answered. "Yeah. It's who I am." 

You wanted to roll your eyes but in a way, it was sweet. And then you wanted to roll your eyes at the fact you thought something associated with Pete Mitchell was sweet. 

Instead of rolling your eyes, you actually rolled onto your side. Your arms were held to your chest. You were facing Pete now, but in the darkness of the room you could only see an outline of his features. It was unfair how good his side profile looked. 

“Can I ask you something else?” 

You felt the covers shift, the mattress moving under you as Pete mirrored your previous action. He was dangerously close now, lying on his side facing you. His body warmth was keeping the air beneath the duvet cosy. You wished you could see his eyes, you wanted to see how he was looking at you in the darkness.

“Go ahead.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t the Pete Mitchell you knew. In a single second his whole demeanour had altered. He was now soft and tender, encouraging this conversation that was the first of its kind.   

“What is flying like?” 

This brought a light laugh from the man lying opposite you, but it wasn’t malicious. 

“It’s the best feeling anyone could ever experience.”

“The best, huh?”

“Ok, maybe the second best.” 

This time you laughed together. It was unbelievably strange. How had you been arguing before, yet now you couldn’t think of anywhere you would rather be. But unlike the silence this afternoon out on the driveway, it was comfortable. You just wanted to lie there, perfectly content. 

You heard Pete take a deep breath before speaking, almost in a whisper, “I want you to know, Y/N, that I’m sorry, for how I’ve spoken to you in the past.”

You bit down hard on your lip. 

“I’m sorry too. It’s all water under the bridge now.” 

“In truth…” Pete started to say something but he trailed off. 

“Yeah?” You prompted him, your heart beating fiercely in your chest. 

“I…” He couldn’t seem to say whatever he wanted to. After he had failed the second time, he decided actions might be better than words. You felt  the pad of his thumb touch your jaw. 

When you didn’t flinch, Pete brought his hand to rest. His palm cupping your jaw, his thumb gracing your cheek. You couldn’t help but relax into him, humming in content. When Pete heard you, his hand left your face and moved to the small of your back, bringing you across the sheet to him. The only thing between you was the thin fabric of your top. The one thing better than seeing Pete’s naked chest, was being pressed up against it. 

“Is this ok?” 

You were barely audible as you whispered a “yes”. Every part of your skin that was touching Pete’s felt like it was on fire, and every part that wasn’t, was still burning with an unbelievable intensity. 

“God you’re so beautiful, Y/N. You don’t know how hard it’s been to be around you and not be able to tell you that.”

He was tracing your face, his thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, fingertips nestling into your hair behind your ear. When you felt his lips on your forehead you sank into him, pushing your hips against his, wrapping your right leg over him. Pete kissed your forehead, both your cheeks, your jaw… and then your lips.

Your lips were barely touching at first, gracing each other in another attempt to gain consent. You’d be damned if you waited another second to kiss Pete Mitchell. You hadn’t realised for how long you’d wanted him in this way. The all consuming need to be needed, wanted, loved by him. 

When you kissed, it was impossible not to react. Your leg linked around his became wrapped around his waist. His hand came to squeeze your thigh, holding your bare skin against the muscles of his back. 

In a split second, Pete was on top of you. 

"Are we really doing this?"

"Yes we are."

You wanted to touch him. You wanted him to touch you, everywhere. It didn’t matter where his hands were, or how his weight felt on top of you, it was never enough. It would never be enough. Your own hands were grasping at his back, feeling the lean muscles tense and relax under your fingertips. 

“Tell me what you want, Y/N.” Pete didn’t stop kissing you, moving down your neck and collarbones. 

“I need you, Pete. Anything. Fuck me. Just touch me.” You were moaning incoherent thoughts as he sucked on one specific place under your ear. Pete’s low laugh against your skin when straight to your core. 

“As you wish, sweetheart.” 

Your hips rose completely off the bed as you felt his hand breach the waistline of your shorts. You were sensitive, all of Pete’s previous exploration of your frame had done its job. Pete found your clit, delicately circling it as you mewled under him. Your hips bucked again, uncontrollably and with force. 

“Careful, baby.” Pete cooed, steading your waist by shifting his weight. Pete’s intention was to turn you on enough that he could fuck you easily, but it would seem he didn’t have to do anything more. You were writhing already, and when he put one finger inside of you, you could do nothing but stifle an inaudible sound into his shoulder. 

Pete was in awe of your reaction. How responsive you were to him was even more of a turn-on than he could ever imagine. He helped you remove your shirt, and then take your shorts down over your legs. He threw the items out of bed. 

“You need to get these off, now.” You ordered, claiming some control over your own actions. Pete helped you fumble with his shorts, and soon neither of you were wearing anything. 

“Please?” In any other situation you would be embarrassed by how desperate you sounded. But this time, you didn’t care. 

The feeling of Pete inside you was intoxicating. Your legs were wrapped around his back, your arms around his neck. There was no possible way you could be any closer to each other. The way he continued to kiss you made up for all the times you hadn’t been with each other. With every peck, moan, movement, the tension that had built up between you two disappeared. 

“Y/N…” 

You loved how Pete said your name. It was becoming impossible to think straight. All your thoughts were centred on the feeling at your core, the mounting pressure that wasn’t ceasing. 

"Maverick…"

Pete’s call sign fell from your lips instinctively. Through the darkness you heard him gasp, followed by a filthy moan before he thrust into you again, hard. 

Your face was sheltered in the crook of Pete’s neck, so any sound you made was muffled. It was becoming very difficult to not cry out. You were so close too, it wouldn’t be long before you would come. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you-” But whatever Pete was going to say was overshadowed by the beginning of your orgasm. You began shuddering against him, moaning pitifully as you hit your peak. Simultaneously, it became too much for Pete. You both rode out your highs together, unable to pull away. 

You felt empty when Pete rolled off you, but you weren’t without contact for long. Pete lay on his back, you curled into his side, hand resting above his heart. He was holding your hand, your fingers intertwined on his chest. 

All that was heard throughout the room was the sound of heavy breathing. It was a few minutes before either of you were able to speak. 

“You called me Maverick.” He breathed.

"I did." The sultry tones in your own voice were a shock even to you. You leant forwards, taking the soft skin of his ear in your teeth. "Now, show me again why that's your call sign." 

~~~

The next morning, you and Pete walked into the Bradshaw’s kitchen together. Pete’s arm was around your waist, his hand resting on your hip bone. It felt so natural, you wished you’d done this before. 

Goose made an inhuman noise, pointing excitedly like a child at you and Pete. He was flitting between gaping at his two best friends and looking astonished at his wife. Carole was just smiling incessantly. 

What you and Pete didn’t know was that you'd unknowingly given Carole the best birthday present she could want. 

Masterlist

[creature-phases]

Do you have some favorite civilian outfits of Bart?

This is actually a top tier question. The answer is: ABSOLUTELY! It’s gonna be hard to choose honestly. Long post incoming

First are outfits I genuinely like. I’m a sucker for a flannel/button ups over a shirt with jeans. Very gender. I’m also a sucker for those type of striped shirts and that color combo.

The one with Preston is a favorite that I wouldn’t wear myself. I just like it’s vibe. I also like bomber jackets. The triple layers actually work here (in my opinion).

The baseball jersey one is notable as it was when Bart lost his powers during a Flash event and Max was sick. It’ll always have a sad tinge to it but I still like it. Not sure why he’s wearing a New York Yankees jersey though. Show some hometown pride, Bart.

Next are these 4. First is more of pajamas but I find it to funny not to include. A giant orange tank top that ends right above his knees. 10/10

Next is the outfit he wore as a disguise in Young Justice. I know they’re supposed to look dumb but I still count it. Few people can pull off that look and Bart isn’t one of them. Not sure who those “few people” are but eh.

I had to include Bart’s iconic first day of school outfit. I’m not sure what Ramos’ thought process was here. A lime green turtle neck with a tucked in baseball jersey? Well it was the 90’s. Can’t see it here but I only just realized on a reread that he’s wearing red and white shoes with this outfit.

Then we have another iconic outfit from when he gets the entire school to fight each other. Mostly because I dunno what the thing over his shirt is supposed to be. I’m pretty sure it’s a real thing but it looks goofy.

Lastly we have my all time favorite civilian Bart Allen outfit:

I love of everything about this outfit. The Flash shirt, the high waisted pants that are way too big on him, bowling style over-shirt, the probably unintentional scuff marks on the shoes (if they were untied it’d be even better). It’s just a top tier outfit.

[claireelizabeth85]

Come Home To Me - Chapter 7

John Egan x OC Female

Summary: When the idea of a past life turns out it isn't just an idea or a dream.

Warning: Military inaccuracies, Lizzy needing a slap up the side of the head and Sarah being a badass MF. Other than that - enjoy.

AN: This is a work of fiction and is based on the TV characters from the Apple TV series. No disrespect is intended towards the real men of the 100th BG.

All previous chapters can be found here

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

Sarah's sharp gaze cut through the bustling crowd, her eyes fixing on Abigail amidst the sea of faces at the air show. She quickly suited up, her movements sharp and determined. 

"You know, this could be considered stalking," Sarah snapped, the edge in her voice cutting through the noise as she confronted Abigail. The woman's presence was unsettling, her motives unclear.

Abigail's response was hesitant, her words failing to fully conceal her true intentions. "We... I just wanted to see you off. Make sure that everything goes well," she offered, her voice tinged with a hint of unease.

Sarah's eyes narrowed, she wasn't buying it, not convinced by Abigail’s faltering concern. “Listen, Abby, is it? If you don't want me to know who you are, that’s fine. But there's definitely something you're not telling me. So how about you come clean or stay out of my way? Sarah crossed her arms, waiting for a response, but Abigail remained silent, her apologetic expression betraying the depth of her secrets. 

Sarah's frustration mounted as she waited for a response, but none came. With a final, terse remark, she turned and walked away, leaving Abigail and her brother, Jonathan, who was approaching the two women, standing alone amidst the crowd.

Jonathan's confusion was palpable as he stepped out in front of his sister, blocking the view of Sarah's retreating figure. "What the hell was that all about, Abby?" he demanded, his tone tinged with exasperation. "You say we can't get involved, and yet you're out here handing out photographs and cryptic messages to GeeGee. How is that not getting involved?"

Abigail exhaled deeply, her gaze drifting back toward the airfield. "Because, Johnny," she began, her voice heavy with resignation, "GeeGee told me herself to do it. She told me to ensure that they both got on the plane, but also warned us to stay away from..." Abby gestured towards the B-17 and Lizzy’s arriving figure.

Jonathan's brow furrowed in confusion. "She told you to stay away from Nana? Why?"

Abigail sat down on a nearby bench, her eyes tracking Lizzy as she inspected the bomber. “For starters, GeeGee specifically warned me about letting you near her.”

“Me? Why?” Jonathan scoffed, disbelief lacing his words.

“Really, Johnny?” Abigail raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and seriousness. “Do you think she won’t recognize who you are, or at least who you’re related to? You’re the spitting image of Grandpa—tall, dark hair, those aviator sunglasses, and, let’s not forget, those big ol’ ears. GeeGee fears that if you get too close, Lizzy might back out from the flight. No one really knows what might happen if she doesn’t get on the plane, but it’s best for everyone if we keep our distance.”

Digging into her jacket pocket, Abigail pulled out two sealed envelopes, cursing under her breath when she saw what they were. “These are the flight plans. If all of this is going to work, we need to nudge them into place—one needs to go to the tower, and the other to the bomber.”

Jonathan extended his hand, ready to take on part of the task. “I’ll take one to the bomber, and you take one to the tower.”

Abigail hesitated, her grip on the envelopes tight. “I mean it, Johnny, not a damn word. Don’t go in there and screw this up.”

Pushing his sunglasses up, Jonathan flashed a reassuring grin. “I know, Abby. Don't worry, I got this.”

As Jonathan headed toward the bomber, Abigail watched him for a moment, a mix of hope and anxiety in her eyes, before turning to make her way to the control tower. Each step was heavy with the weight of their family history, threading the past with the present, as they both played their part in shaping the uncertain future.

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

Lizzy's anxiety churned within her as she approached the beautifully restored B-17 Flying Fortress. Though she was intimately familiar with the controls, akin to muscle memory, the jittery unease persisted. Beneath the wing, she dropped her flight bag, her hands trembling slightly. Needing a moment to ground herself, she embarked on a walk around the aircraft. With each step, she peeled off her gloves, her fingers tracing the smooth metal surface, feeling every rivet and indentation. 

Despite the reassurances echoing in her mind — no troubles, no fear, no fighters, no flak — the anxiety persisted like a haunting echo. Restless sleep had plagued her the night before. She knew she needed to sleep so instead of it coming immediately, she tossed and returned. It seemed like only yesterday she had soared through the sky in these majestic beasts, yet the reality was starkly different, more than 80 years had passed.

"Jesus Christ, who the hell am I kidding" she muttered under her breath, the weight of uncertainty crashing over her like a tidal wave. Dragging her feet, she headed back to her flight bag, steeling herself for the talk with Sarah. Part of her was already tempted to bail on this crazy plan.

As she retrieved her stuff, Sarah and a member of the ground crew had arrived to start the external pre-flight checks.  Lizzy rubbed her face, trying to get rid of the fear and anxiety.  Sarah pulled her hand away and yelled in her ear if there was something wrong. 

“I don’t think I can do this Sarah! I can’t do….we’ve been through so much, you can’t expect me to do this on my own!” Sarah could see the panic in Lizzy’s face.  The noise of the planes around them and the people watching the airshow amplified everything. Sarah could barely hear what was being said until one of the ground staff handed her a set of headphones.

“Lizzy, look at me!” she grabbed her friend’s hand.  Lizzy looked the part.  She was dressed in an original flying suit, a dark brown, freshly cleaned sheepskin flying jacket and an original and serviced Mae West, topped off with gloves and her officer’s cap. 

“You need to get out of your own head! You’re right, we’ve been through so much; boys, uni, this crazy ass situation, but right now, I need you to be the brave, bad-ass pilot that I have read about. I know you can do this Liz! I’ll be right here, all the way.” 

Lizzy’s brain tried to focus on what was going on around her, the thrum of the planes around them all starting up and getting into position. It was only when she truly looked at Sarah did she realise her best friend was also suited up in full flying gear and Mae West. 

“Sarah! What are you doing?  You can’t come with me! You’ll leave everything behind!” Sarah shook her head.  “Do you really think i’m going to let you fight the fucking Nazi’s on your own?” Lizzy’s jaw hung lax at Sarah’s new found confidence. 

“Besides, we need to take this” Sarah handed over the final piece of the whole puzzle.  A small black and white photograph of Lizzy and Sarah standing in front of her original fortress. 

“What the fuck?!” Lizzy couldn’t take this all in. “You drop this on me NOW!” Sarah laughed, “Well, I thought no time like the present, or is it the past.  Anyway, there’s something else.  You need to give this back to someone.”  Sarah grabbed Lizzy’s hand and placed a tarnished silver cross on a delicate chain in her palm. “Where the hell did you get that? It’s…”

“John’s. I know! Turns out I’m a snooper and I had a rummage around your trunk!”  Sarah smiled.  She patted Lizzy firmly on the shoulder.  “We’ll do this together Liz, all the way.  But right now, we need you to get on the fucking plane Lieutenant!”

Lizzy watched as the ground crew brought a ladder over for them to climb onboard.  Sarah being inexperienced and vertically challenged, appreciated the gesture and climbed up and got herself sorted.  Lizzy waved it away.  “I’ve done this hundreds of times and never with a ladder.” Placing the silver chain over her head and kissing the cross, more because of the previous owner than a religious sentiment, she then threw her bag and cap through the catch.  Jumping up, Lizzy grabbed the inside top of the hatch and like a gymnast, curled herself up and into the bomber.  Asking the ground crew to keep the hatch open until all pre-engine start-up checks were complete, Lizzy made her way to the cockpit. 

Everything felt so familiar.  For the first time in days she felt truly at peace, at home even.  Climbing into the left hand seat with a wry smile, she started the pre-flight checks. Sarah had situated herself in the flight engineer’s seat just behind Lizzy. 

“Sarah, do we know who else is flying with us?” Sarah popped up over her shoulder, taking in the cockpit in a moment of awe.  “No I don’t, sorry.  Thought Geoff said that he was going to step in but he’s over at the tower.  Don would have been copilot but he’s not here.”  Lizzy attached her throat mic and started talking to the tower, requesting confirmation. 

“Tower, this is Queen Bee”, She waited for them to respond. “Geoff, who’s flying with me?”  The pause was followed by a sigh “well shit! I know I’m a good pilot but there’s no way I can get this bird off the ground on my own!” Lizzy sounded exasperated. “Because, you spanner monkey, it takes two pilots to get her off the ground and the last time I flew one of these things, I had the best pilot as a command pilot - and no I don't mean Don. ” Lizzy ran her hand over her face. “Yeah, yeah.  I can get Sarah to sit in the other seat.  There’s not much she needs to do.  Yeah, we’ll be fine.  No! Don’t you dare scrub us! I said we’ll be fine. Queen Bee out” 

Lizzy twisted around to look at Sarah.  “Guess you’ve been promoted, come and join me in my office!” As Sarah climbed her way into the cockpit and into the right hand seat, she stared around at all the switches and dials, her eyes wide with panic as though she was about to be tested and she hadn’t done the homework. 

“Erm, Liz, you know I don't know how to fly right?” Lizzy chuckled.  “Sure you do Tink, it’s either a case of flapping your arms really fast or you need to think of a wonderful thought!” The pair of them laughing at the stupidity of Lizzy’s joke eased Sarah’s nervousness. 

“There’s not much you need to do.  Here, put this round your throat, push either side to talk and you’ll need to put these on so you can hear the tower. Sarah got herself situated.  She could hear chatter over the radio. She remained silent, only replying when Lizzy required her assistance. Lizzy walked through the checks from memory, the actual list laying across her knees. Her final check was the fuel gauge. Humming to herself in contemplation of something, she made a note and placed the checklist to her right. 

Radioing to the Tower, Lizzy informed them they were ready for engine start up as all pre-flight checks had been done and the hatch could be closed. Sarah tried so hard not to fidget in her seat.  “I really hope you remember what you’re doing Lizzy, cos if you don’t, I don’t have a goddam clue and this’ll be the first crash of a B-17 in about 80 years.” 

Lizzy turned to her best friend, amazed that she was making the decision to come with her.  “I got this, don’t worry.  I will need your help in a minute to get us off the ground but I will coach you through it.  But once we’re in the air, you can sit back and check out the view.”

Interrupting their final checks, there was a call from the hatch and Abigail’s brother, Johnny, appeared at the entrance to the cockpit.  Sarah’s eyes narrowed, unhappy by his presence in the aircraft.  Johnny acknowledged them both and handed Sarah an envelope with the instruction “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL AIRBORNE” written across it in red capitals. 

“I’m here with your orders and flight plan ma’am.  Also, I’m to collect your signed pre-flight check-list”  Lizzy just stared at the man.  Her hand gripping the check-list as he tried to take it from her.  She couldn’t get over how familiar he looked.  She felt like she knew his name, that it was at the end of her tongue. Sarah wanted to know what was going on as well, considering she’d told them both to stay away. 

“Ma’am?  Are you finished with your list?” Sarah stared at the exchange and then nudged Lizzy’s knee to get her to focus.

“Erm no…yes of course. In fact, just one second, please” Lizzy checked the sheet and the fuel gauge again. 

“Tower, this is Queen Bee, over” Lizzy studied the checklist, her fuel gauge and the fuel gauge on Sarah’s side as she waited for their reply, 

“Queen Bee, this is Tower. Go ahead Lizzy, over.”

“Tower, Geoff, tell me again how much fuel I’m meant to have, over?” Lizzy didn’t need to do the maths, she knew how far she could get on her current tanks. She was currently sitting on enough fuel for 1700 miles. 

“Queen Bee, Lizzy you should have one full tank, over.'' She frowned, checked Sarah’s gauge to make sure that she wasn’t messing up the maths, and even the reserve gauge, which was flat. 

“Tower, you sure? Cos I’m looking at two full fuel tanks here.  You’re not planning on packing us off somewhere are you?” They both chuckled. “Geoff, we’re either gonna need to go first or last, cos we are heavy now.  We can take off with everyone else and stay in a holding pattern which is fine, cos I have the flight plan here. I’ll talk to you when we’re ready for take off.  Queen Bee out.” Lizzy made a final note on the check-list and handed it over. 

“Thank you.  Please tell the ground crew to stand clear and we’ll do the engine start up.” Johnny nodded acknowledging Lizzy’s request and shooting Sarah an apologetic smile and then turned to leave the cockpit, before looking over his shoulder, calling out to Lizzy.

“Lieutenant?”  Lizzy twisted in her seat. “Yes?” Lizzy took a moment to look at him. His short hair, cut in a modern military short back and sides style, he was clean shaven and there was just something about him that made him feel so  familiar. His face was beautiful, with angled cheeks and a strong jawline. His eyes were a gorgeous ocean blue that twinkled with mischief. His soft but defined cupid’s bow was prominent when he smiled at her. Lizzy tried to fit the pieces together from her mind to work out who he was, but he spoke before she could get her answer.

“I’ve been asked to remind you that you’re not to do any stupid shit” and before Lizzy, or Sarah, had the opportunity to say anything, Johnny was gone. 

As he slid out of the hatch, he knew he had gone against what Abigail said but he’d needed to talk to her, to see her in person, even if she didn’t know him. He remembered the stories from when he was a child, about how Nana was always reminded not to do anything stupid while Grandpa was at work. “It’s because she gets a little careless when I’m not around.” Johnny walked back towards the tower, a smug smile on his face, Abigail meeting him beside a replica jeep.

“What the hell was that all about?” Sarah asked, as Lizzy stared at the space Johnny had occupied. “I don’t….he knew…did you tell him?” Lizzy looked at Sarah, with a questioning eye. “Tell him what?” Lizzy realised that Sarah wouldn’t know.  “Nothing, never mind.” Shaking her head to clear her mind, Lizzy focused on the task at hand. 

Leaning out the window to her left, she acknowledged the ground crew waiting for her to start the fortress’ huge engines.  As both engines one and two spluttered to life and the cockpit started to vibrate, Lizzy relaxed both mentally and physically.  

Talking Sarah through what she needed to do with the choke for the engines on her side, all four were now humming.  Oh how she had missed that sound.  Even in her modern life, there had always been something missing, some piece of her that she couldn’t quite find.  This was it.  

“Tower this is Queen Bee, over” 

“Tower, go ahead Lizzy.” 

“We have four engines hot and ready to go.  Your guy dropped off the orders and flight plan and took our checklist. You decided if we’re first or last, over?” Lizzy watched as the ground crew stood themselves in clear view of her window. 

“Tower, We haven’t issued any orders or a flight plan Lizzy.  As far as we know, your checklist is still with you.”

She looked down at the clipboard and to her confusion, Geoff was right. She looked over at Sarah who still had hold of the envelope that said it should not be opened until they were in flight.  Sarah went to open it before Lizzy stopped her.  “Don’t open it. Not yet…it’s… bad luck.” Lizzy touched her throat. 

“Tower, my fault, the checklist is still here.  Can return it when we get back. Are we first or last over?” Lizzy wanted to get this going, the waiting and the apprehension were making her jittery. 

“Queen Bee - you’re the star of the show Lizzy, you’re up first. Have a good flight.  See you when you get back. Out.”  Lizzy pushed out a breath.  Finally, she thought. 

Giving the ground crew a thumbs, Lizzy eased off the brakes and gently pushed the throttle forward slowly rolling the aircraft forwards. She made slight adjustments with the brakes as she worked her way towards the runway.  

“This is it Sarah - now or never.” Sarah beamed a smile so wide, it went from ear to ear.  “You got this Liz. You just tell me what you need and I’ll try my best.”

“Tower, this is Queen Bee. Holding on the runway. Waiting for green, over.” Lizzy took a deep breath in.  There were no nerves to steady, just one of those things she always did.

“Queen Bee this is Tower. Green will appear to your west. Runway is yours. Good weather with clear sky and no haze. No aircraft in our space and holding pattern is at 10,000 feet. Good luck Liz. Tower out.” 

Seconds later, the green flare from the Tower lit up even in broad daylight. Lizzy gently guided Sarah’s hand to the co-pilot throttle.

“Nice and easy, we don’t want to be down the end of the runway and still be on the ground.  We’ll pick up enough speed and then when I say let go, start to gently pull back on the yoke.” 

Sarah, as instructed, started to call out the ground speed as Queen Bee started to gently thunder down the runway.  Lizzy, taking a last look out, caught sight of the man who had dropped off the flight plan. He was sitting on top of a replica army jeep, his feet crossed, leaning back on his hands.  A pair of aviator sunglasses protected his gaze from the afternoon sun. 

For a split second, Lizzy could have sworn it was John, waving at her.  She shook her head and refocused on the runway and their speed. Lizzy told Sarah to keep going and she released her throttle and started to pull back on the yoke.  

She could feel the wheels start to lift, pulling ever so slightly harder to bring the nose up and the stunning plane, beautifully restored, took flight as they climbed up into the clouds. 

Taglist:

@victoryrollsandredlips @bobparkhurst @prettyinlimegreenboots @ginabaker1666 @instructionsnotincluded @luminouslywriting @thedeviltohisangel

AN: If you enjoyed this chapter and want to gossip about it, then my DMs and asks are open, come and chat!

[checkingoutforheroes]

B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL

Part 5.

Avengers x fem!reader

Words: 1029

Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol. Will a young, damaged and broke girl agree to this initiative and help a team to save this planet earth?

Part 4.

Main Materlist.

When you and Clint arrive at the lab, you see Steve and Wanda has come back. Thor is too and they were fighting among themselves. “Hey guy’s we found- Who the hell is that?!” Clint step in front of you. “Stay behind me.”

Steve voice out to Tony and Bruce. “You need to shut it down. You don’t know what you are doing?

Bruce voice is deeper than before. “And you do?” he’s pointing at Wanda. “She’s not in your head?” Wanda step next to Steve. “I know you’re angry.” Bruce is getting angry. Maybe someone should do something. “Oh, we’re past that. I could choke the life out of you and don’t change a shade.” You step in. “Okay, you don’t want that. Let’s talk this out, alright?”

And they talk. Loudly, shouting among them. Steve starts to point his perspective. “After everything that happen …” His words beat by Tony “There’s nothing compare to what happen!”

“You don’t know what’s in there!”

“This isn’t a game!”

“The creature in that…” That red thing moves to attack Thor and he push him away. He signs us to stop and not doing anything and its mean no harm. All of us gather behind Thor and Wanda stands next to you. That thing growing a cape by itself looking like Thor’s. “That’s odd.” You whisper.

 “Thor, you helped create this?” Steve ask him.

“I have had a vision. That is the mind stone.” Thor pointing at his head.

Bruce ask. “The gem?”

“It’s one of the six infinity stones, the greatest power in the universe.”

“And then why did you bring it back to life?” Steve recalled. “Because Stark is right.” Bruce now seems a little bit calm then before. “That’s definitely the end of time.”

“The Avengers can’t defeat Ultron.”

“Not alone.” That thing said. “Why did your thing sounds like Jarvis?” You ask. “We figured Jarvis’s nature and create something new.” Tony reasoned and he speaks again. “You think I’m a child of Ultron? I am not. I am not Ultron. I am not Jarvis, I am… I am…” he lost his words.

Wanda walking forward. “I looked in your head, saw an annihilation.” “Look again.” Put forth. “Are you on our side?” Steve exclaimed. “I’m on the side of life. Ultron isn’t. He will end it all.” He pondered and Tony ask “What is he waiting for?” “You.” That thing said. “Where?” Bruce turns to ask.

“Sokovia. He Got Nat there too.” Clint stated. “We have to act now. Captain?” You look at Steve.

“Three minutes. Get what you need.” Everybody moves to get ready. You contact Maria to inform the plan. Clint’s prepare his arrow, Tony is in his lab, doing his thing with his A.I. Thor, Banner, Rogers and Vision have a discussion.

While you’re on the way to Natasha’s room to get ready, you see Wanda standing pondering alone and you go talk to her. “Hey, you okay Wanda?”

“Yes. Where are you going?” Her thick accent asking you a question. “I’m going to get ready.”

“You are not going right? You’re not well enough.”

“My sister is alone in a country with tons of evil machine and I’m planning not to leave her.”

“We’re going to get her.”

“The more the merrier. Enough talking. Captain America will be on our ass if we’re late. Come on.” You pulling Wanda’s hand and she follows you. “Where are we going?” “Natasha’s room. We’re not combat ready.”

You wear one of her bomber jacket that is big enough for you. Damn this assassin is smaller than you think. “Hey, take of your cardigan. Put this on.” You throw a red jacket at her. “It match your power and size. Don’t worry, she won’t be mad. She got tons of those. She’ll not even notice is one missing.”

Steve give us last mission brief in the Quinn jet. “Ultron knows we’re coming. Odds are we’ll be riding heavy fire. That’s what we sign up for. But people in Sokovia, they didn’t so, it’s our priority to bring them out. Wanda, you on it. We do our best to protect them, we get our job done. We’ll find out what Ultron has been building. Y/n find Romanoff; we clear the field. Keep the fight between us.”

As soon the jet touch the ground, everyone rushes to do their part. “Wanda, you’ll be fine. This is your hometown. I see you after I found Nat, okay. Good luck.” She’s trying to smile at you. “You take care of yourself, Baby.”

You watch the map on the tablet that Tony gave you to find the exact location of Nat and you’re close enough. “Nat… Nat, where are you? Natasha?” She hears your whispering voice calling her name in the cell. “Baby? In here!” You turn to your right and see her behind the bar. You laugh at that scene. “Well, well. Look who’s behind the bar.”

“Not now Baby. What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be in bed!”

“While you’ve been kidnapped by terminator? I don’t think I can sit at all. You alright? I bring this for you. You need to recharge.” You hand her a candy bar.

“Thanks. I suppose you find some keys lying down the somewhere.”

“Nah, I don’t need keys.” You motion her to move and shot the gate open.

“So, what’s your play?” She asking you about the plan.

“I’m here to get you to safety.”

“And miss all the fun? I don’t think so.” She wears the new headset piece that you gave her because you can’t wear one. Its messing with your device. “Put this on. I can’t wear that.”

“Where’s the jet?” You show her the map on the tablet. “Alright. Let’s get you there.”

“Which part of ‘getting you to safety’ that you didn’t understand? I have to get you to safety. Cap’s order.

“You stubborn!”

“You stubborn!”

Clint hear the banter and stop you guys. “Knock it off sisters. We could use some help out here before they attack us.” You and Natasha looking at each other “Fuck Captain’s order.” Both of you running out of that place.

[sleepymoppet]

Writing a Letter to Leon Kennedy

Notes: Literally why is everything this man does hot and just I want to baby him so bad but I also want him to fight the world for me?? 

Genre: Fluff, headcanons, a sprinkle of angst if you squint really hard

𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂

When you go shopping with him, and have a large amount of bags, he will take them from you no questions asked. He doesn’t even ask if he can, he just quickly slides them off your arm and holds them in his hands, on his shoulders, or with his arm. 

The type on sleepless nights due to insomnia or other PTSD related reasons, to do a little slow dancing with you. He likes to turn all of the lights down with only a lamp casting your shadows on the wall with some very quiet and relaxing music playing in the background. Your sleepy forms slowly rocking side to side as he wraps his strong arms around the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. His cheek will rest on the top of your head as he rests his eyes as he breathes in the moment.

Either that, or if you’re up for going for a drive, takes you for a ride on his motorcycle. You can watch the neon lights on signs plastered in the windows of 24/7 convenience stores zoom past in a blur. The only thing lighting the road ahead are the streetlamps and the small headlights attached to the motorcycle. The stars seem to shift slowly behind you as you continue to take quiet winding roads to an unknown destination.

He always makes sure you wear a helmet and some padding on the outside, no matter what. If you don’t have any, he gives you one of his leather jackets and his spare helmet. 

If you at all ever feel uncomfortable riding with him, give his shirt a tug. He will immediately pull over at the safest spot and make sure you’re alright. “Are you okay? Just a little nauseous, that’s all? You’re sure? Okay we can sit here for a bit, no rush.”

(Do not pat him because otherwise he’ll think you want to either hold his hand or for him to make a turn somewhere if you specifically pat his side.)

When he’s away for a long time and notices that you’ve washed his motorcycle, or took care of it, he has to, has to, give you a big juicy kiss. Leon loves his motorcycle he is so grateful for you for taking care of it while he’s away on some extensive mission.

It’s just a nice thing to see because it means one less thing off of his plate, which also means more time spent with you instead of some boring maintenance chores.

His leather bomber jacket from RE4 is his baby, his pride, his favorite piece of clothing he has. So when he bestows it upon you, draping it over your shoulders on a chilly night, know that you are the love of his life. He would rather die than part with his jacket. Also if you tease him about it, his ears go red but he just turns his face away with a little, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Does his stupidly hilarious one liners and corny jokes. Every time he has a little shine in his eyes as he looks at you, waiting for you to laugh. 

Please laugh, he is hilarious.

When ever you two are together out in public witnessing something going down: a kid’s meltdown, a Karen yelling at some poor employee, etc., he just leans down next to your ear and whispers “Story of my life” With some stupidly handsome lopsided grin as he pulls away from your ear and looks down at you to see you’re reaction.

Even if he’s off the clock or not on a mission, he is keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of place or any sort of danger. Two things can come from this: he sticks close to you if he feels something is off. (A calming rub on his back helps soothe him a little.) Otherwise he will subtly guide you away. Say if some guy was eyeing you up, Leon shields his gaze from you and points at something to go look at. Once you’re off he sends a quick glare to the guy before following dutifully behind you.

If it were a real danger instead of just some guy eyeing you up, he does this to avoid you panicking about the situation (As they say, ignorance is bliss). This gives him the time to take care of it himself. He doesn’t expect you to be able to mentally face the horrifying bioweapons he has in his life. And honestly, he’d like to keep it that way for as long as he can help it.

He likes being the big spoon when cuddling or having you on top of him since he likes to know you’re safe. But on days when he’s exhausted, struggling to sleep, or out right anxious with his own mind and demons, hold him. Hold him close, wrap your arms around this big bulky man. Let his head rest over your heart, hearing the soft rhythmic beating, Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. as it lulls him to sleep a most restful sleep.

You can visibly see his shoulders relax as he hears your steady heart beat. It’s the one thing he needs to hear to know you’re alive

Loves it when you give him a massage. Leon melts like puddy in your hands. His favorite spot for you to work the knots out of is his upper back. Your legs straddle his waist with his shirt off, his head turned to the side and eyes closed as he sighs in content.

Leon has fallen asleep during these massage sessions on a multitude of times that it is just expected to happen. They just become so relaxing that he can’t help but let his eyes droop shut.

When feeling like he needs an extra bit of care, he asks you to use some essential oils. It helps him relax a bit more and also just makes him smell good. His favorite is a balsam and ginger mix.

The type to quietly say “I’m home” when it’s late at night and he comes back home to a dark and quiet house. Letting his things drop to the floor before slowly trudging his way to the bedroom, not even bothering to change out of his work clothes unless they are absolutely nasty. Throws off his shirt in one smooth motion before slowly and carefully sliding in next to you.

If you end up waking up from the shift of the mattress he will apologize before reassuring you it’s just him and you don’t have to worry. Go back to bed. And he would take this chance to actually wrap his arms around you since you’re at least semi-awake before nuzzling his face into the back of your neck. He takes in one deep breath, breathing in the scent of you, before letting his body relax finally and get some well deserved rest.

[generalzar0ff]

Most of this was drawn in September of last year, but I decided to finally complete it!

So, here are the penguins of Madagascar and their lemur friends as humans!

I know this has been done to death already, but I wanted to provide my own interpretation. I’ll provide my design choices for each character under the cut, if anybody’s interested!

Skipper: I do not want to throw shade to anyone, but most of the human Skippers I’ve seen are either too young, too skinny, or too muscular. This guy may present himself as an authority figure, but let’s face it: this guy is your average middle-aged man with a fascination for cool spy stuff and repressed bisexuality. Trust me, my dad knows all about it. Anyway, I gave him a tacky nautical flag shirt, mostly because i couldn’t find any high-quality “hawaiian shirt with wwii planes” patterns. If it weren’t for King Julien’s design, I would’ve given Skipper aviators.

Kowalski: Typical nerdy guy. When I was showing a work in progress of the penguins, a friend of mine suggested that Kowalski’s hairline should be extra receded, and they were right. I know that this is the simplest design, but that’s because this guy just doesn’t seem the type for style. More of a practicality and formality guy. I suppose now’s a good time to mention that each of the brothers has an element of orange around their feet, cuz, well, the penguins have orange feet.

Rico: I really hope you guys get the energy that this guy listens to nu-metal. Since human beings not infused with cartoon animal wackiness cannot regurgitate convenient items, I decided to give human Rico a bunch of pockets from which cartoon HUMAN wackiness can occur. His outfit is also a bit more military-like than the others, what with the bomber jacket, cargo shorts, and combat boots. I also gave him what is essentially the boss floss from Splatoon 3’s amiibo gear.

Private: According to Penguin Lore™️, they’re all brothers, but Private is adopted, hence why he’s a bit younger [but not a child!] and I gave him a different hair texture and skin tone. His shirt has an icon from his favorite show, a Lunacorn. I also made his blue nail polish match its eyes. I take honor in the fact that a friend told me “I have several transmasc friends who look like this”.

Maurice: A lot of people who draw TPOM gijinkas don’t even draw him, which is a shame, because I love Maurice. Even more offensive is that some people don’t even depict him as an old black man, which goes against everything I know to be true in my heart. Anyway, he seems like the type to enjoy autumn/winter gear, so I gave him a big ol’ trench coat, as well as a scarf that looks like his fur puff. And the newsie cap just felt right.

King Julien: Here’s where all the flashiness went! According to an actor whom I have a personal vendetta against and thus will not name, Julien’s accent is Sri Lankan, so I took inspiration from their traditional clothing for his outfit, albeit more “cunty”, as today’s kids call it. It was imperative that this man has his toes out for obvious reasons, so I gave him sandals. I honestly have no good explanation for the leopard print leggings other than it came to me in a divine vision. Or something. The sunglasses mimic the color of his eyes!

Mort: Look, it was really hard for me not to just draw Molière from Atlantis: The Lost Empire, since his design is already kind of what I imagine this fellow looking like as a “human”. Admittedly, I’m not too proud of this design, but i think it gets the job done. His outfit purposely clashes: a matching hat and sweater, but with sweatpants, and he’s not even wearing shoes! I know the original Mort doesn’t have any purple in his design, but I felt like its inclusion made him look a little weirder. And then there’s his eyes. Yeah.

Hope this wasn’t too long, and thank you to anyone who read this portion of the post!

[typosandtea]

OC smash or pass

Thanks for the tag! @bury-me-standing

RULES: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

Tagging: @sirmanmister @acorncoffeeformysweetheart @and anyone else who wants to join in ^_^

Nora Murphy (Murphy)

[ID: three drawings of my fallout 4 oc Murphy, she is a white freckled woman with beige / grey spotted wings, shoulder length brown messy greying hair, large yellow eyes and scars across her her left eye. She is wearing vault suit and cargo pants, bos knight uniform cargo pants and bomber jacket, vault suit cargo pants and bomber jacket. And dog tags and right leg pistol holster in all three. End ID]

Quick Facts

Murphy is Aussie soldier that was ‘millitary refugee’ (prewar America assimilating what’s left of Aus for resources, including people, iron, uranium and food) (she is ‘sole survivor’ fo4 for my mutants au, where nearly the whole vault lives, 111 was a experiment with military to make super soldiers, all of sanctuary was hand picked to live there. Mostly vets / people useful to the government)

Very obviously a mutant (crossed with sooty owl by vaulttec/military to make super stealth soldier)

She/her

Bi, and connection is most important (I think that’s called Demi?)

Is 35 at the start of fallout 4 if you exclude the ice nap

Anxiety incarnate

Big paragraph of lore >here< :)

Pros

Is nocturnal due to the mutation making her crazy sensitive to the sun, has dark vision though!

Looks* don’t matter too much as long as she feels a positive connection / strong friendship

Is very loyal and is not one to sleep around, she is one partner kinda gal, will reject everyone if she is with you

Good fighter and can hold her own in combat, though prefers stealth

Very silly sense of humour, loves puns and harmless banter

10 charisma

Is friends with Danse

Very tough physically…

Cons

…But is easily hurt emotionally

Is friends with Danse

Doesn’t like vulgar humour at all you’ll get hit with the :| if you try it

Nocturnal

Low Int (3)

Low luck (2)

Is anxious about everything new or unexpected

Loyal, but expects the same of you, if you are partners she will be heartbroken and betrayed if you want more sorry

A metric butttonne of military trauma both from 16 years of prewar service both to Aus, then America, and also the awfulness that the brotherhood gets her to do. Also trauma from watching her country get crushed by china and then America.

On that note is brotherhood / minuteman aligned in a kind of ‘I can fix them’ way (this goes poorly for everyone involved)(she thinks she is a knight, but the bos are just keeping her close to study her and use her as a political pawn since she has more influence than she realises)

A bit old fashioned and probably isn’t going to try anything too crazy..

[jimmystrudel]

Part 2 of ranking 2024 WAG jackets

part 1 & part 3 (and VGK whenever that's posted)

6. Nashville Predators - Emma Barrie’s IG story (thank you @thepassionthatunitesusall for telling me where to find them)

It’s hard to tell what they are made out of but I think it’s fake leather which i don’t like

I do like that they are cream, not white, and that they are embroidered not ironed on patches or graphic t-shirt emblazing

I think these might be my favourite patches quality wise

Overall they are really classic and look comfy but aren’t very original so LA beats them

7. New York Rangers - 1. wagsofrangerstown IG, 2. natoriner23 on tiktok 

 For the first game the WAGs and kids all came in jerseys which is considered a bit of a taboo in the NHL WAG world (idk go watch Lexi’s videos on it) and since they had tons of time to plan this, it felt like a powermove and the full group photos of it are super cute (i love when the babies match)

Also Key’s mom has a jacket and if they have mom/family jackets I will scream, that is so cute

For the jacket itself, this is the only picture of it I’ve seen so idk what the front look like but the back is fine?

I like signatures a lot, they are always cute, but painted, cropped, baggy pleather isn’t interesting and they could have done so much more

8. Washington Capitals - Madison Aube Kubel’s IG

I didn't get great screenshots of this so go to her page if you want to see more

I absolutely hated these when I first saw, thought they were going to be giant pleather monstrosities but then I saw Madison Aube Kubel’s reel of her making her own since she forgot to submit her order on time and they grew on me

They seem like they are made out of a satiny/normal bomber jacket material

This is my favourite of the caps logos and I am glad they used it and the back looks good but I don’t like the giant numbers on the front, you know they are super stiff and you can’t sit down while it is buttoned up without it looking really weird

I don’t love it, I don’t hate it, I just wouldn’t design it

9. Edmonton Oilers - Lauren Kyle’s IG

As previously stated, I don’t like minimalism so they lose a few points, but these really strongly give bad bitch, cool unrealistic tv motorcycle gang

I’m 99% sure they are real leather since they are stiffer and in some close ups you could see skin texture (if it wasn’t obvious I really like real leather)

I like that it is actual stitching, instead of being painted

One personal really big pet peeve is that the c in McDavid should be lowercase

10. Florida Panthers - 1. floridapantherswags IG, found the other on tiktok a few days ago

According to God (Lexi) they have matching pants (seen partially on the right) with the number one of the back pockets, most of the women in the group photo aren’t wearing them so like do they not like their own outfits??

I really like the stitching detail on the back but not having the last name be in that giant open space on their shoulders looks really awkward so they should have put the name there (since they aren’t who they are with since they have numbers) or removed the line of white stitching and made everything else bigger

I also don’t like a baggy jacket if it’s meant to be paired with jeans where the detail is on the butt, like if they were committing to the pants they should have cropped it

I think if they wanted to keep the pants and no last name they should have made vests instead of jackets since the sleeves aren’t doing much

11. Colorado Avalanche -Sussanna Ranta’s IG story

This is the only picture of these that I have seen and they really just look like jackets, nothing special

I tiktok I think I saw something about them having caps that match with the numbers on them but hats are fucking lame

These are just aggressively mid and kind of disappointing