#doc's modern life

[doks-aux]

Was up sick at 4:00am and researching alcohol withdrawal for the purpose of middle-aged man yaoi.

[clefairytea]

Damn I should probably have backups of all my fics huh.

[lightningandfireinmybones]

If you start writing again I may start writing again, I don’t think I’ve opened ao3 since you went on hiatus

AYO HI BESTIE!!!

I’m back in the fucking building again!!

Not sure when I’ll publish again (my laptop was destroyed/stolen when I was traveling for work and have not replaced it yet,,, it’s just me and my phone against the world) BUT I AM BACK IN THTHE BUIKDI BY AND I HOPE IF YOU FEEL LIKE WRITING AGAIN YOU DO!!!!

[daryfromthefuture]

So....about jazzercise...

[keeksandgigz]

the love witch

modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader

summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.

cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe

word count: 4.8k

this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker. 

Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on. 

He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.

Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.

And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life. 

Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. There’s no way people believe in all that.

He stops doing that once he meets you. 

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.

He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp. 

He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door. 

“Thank you for that dried lavender, Janice! I’ll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipment” he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd. 

“Something funny?” you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.

You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you could’ve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess. 

He realizes he’d been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs. 

“Sorry– heh, just don’t really believe in all that stuff” he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesn’t go unnoticed to you. 

You lean on the doorframe of the store “What’s your name again?” you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips. 

He swallows “I um- haven’t told you my- It’s Edward- Eddie!” he corrects himself, you got him flustered “Nobody calls me Edward” he remarks. 

His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog. 

“Alright Edward Eddie, see you around” and with that you disappear back into the store. 

It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman. 

It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes. 

You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.

Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.

He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.

Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.

A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.

Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.

Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.

And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.

Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.

Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.

The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.

"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.

"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.

"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.

"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.

The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.

A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.

"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.

"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.

"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.

He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.

"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.

Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.

"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.

He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.

A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.

"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.

There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.

"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.

So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.

With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.

Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.

"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.

He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.

He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.

You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.

After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.

Eddie Munson has a birth chart.

Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.

Whatever that means.

You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.

He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.

Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.

"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.

He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.

"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.

"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.

You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.

"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.

"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.

You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.

"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.

Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.

And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.

Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.

He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.

"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.

He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.

"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.

"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.

"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.

Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate

He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.

"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.

"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.

You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.

"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.

"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.

Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.

Herbs, oils and a new card deck.

"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.

"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.

Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.

He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.

"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.

"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.

"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.

"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.

You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.

"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.

"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.

He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.

"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.

"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.

He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.

He is a weak, weak man.

He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"

Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.

"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.

You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.

He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.

You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.

"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.

"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.

"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.

"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.

Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.

"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.

"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.

You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.

Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.

"What's that, baby?" he asks.

"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.

He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.

"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.

"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.

It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.

"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.

"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.

Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.

A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.

"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.

"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.

A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.

"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.

And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.

Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.

You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.

"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.

You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.

"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.

You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.

"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.

He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.

Like he is nothing without you.

Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.

He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.

"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.

"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.

He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.

Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.

Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.

Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.

His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.

Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.

But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.

Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.

"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.

And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.

He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.

"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.

"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.

"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"

"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.

"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.

"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.

You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.

You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.

You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.

"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.

"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.

He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.

He raises an eyebrow.

Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.

He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.

Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.

mini taglist: @strangerstilinski, @stuckonthefiction, @elegantkoalapaper, @gravedigginbbydoll, @eddiesxangel, @reidsbtch, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticharrington, @hideoutside, @monstxrteeth, @the-local-pendeja, @thornsnvultures, @strangerfreaks, @unverifiedmeatsuit, @strangerfreaks, @starlitlakes, @thebejeweledwatercat, @aphrogeneias, @chrrymunson, @amira0303, @paradise-summertime, @onegirlmanytales, @piecsesrising, @feralamdtiredrat, @m0llygunn , @angel-upon, @lavendermunson, @cowboylikemunson

[halfmoth-halfman]

little treasures, life's pleasures

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Medic!Reader Synopsis: Now that Soap knows when to pay attention, he realizes you and Ghost aren't as subtle as you think you are. Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, swearing Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. part one. part three. part four.

You don’t use your married name, Soap discovers.

Honestly, he gets it; Simon Riley is allegedly dead to the world with a seemingly endless list of enemies who’d love to get their hands on anything they could use to bring down The Ghost and, based on what Soap saw in your file, you’ve acquired quite the list of enemies yourself. If he were in either of your shoes, Soap would probably do the same.

He stands to the side, leaning with his back to the wall as Price talks about…something? Soap knows he should be paying attention- he had fully intended to, he swears- but then you and Ghost showed up, sitting down right next to each other. There’s an appropriate amount of distance between your chairs, but at the top of the meeting, Ghost folds his arms and leans back, long legs spread just wide enough for his knee to lightly tap against yours, and Soap immediately loses all interest in everything else. 

He keeps his eyes on Price, giving the illusion that he’s listening, but angles his head just enough to see you and Ghost through his peripherals. You’re both staring straight ahead, fully focused on whatever Price is talking about, but every so often Ghost shifts just so and nudges his knee against yours. It’s a subtle movement, not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it, and happens once every fifteen minutes or so. 

Around the forty-five-minute mark, Price asks you a question and you lean forward, answering to the best of your knowledge. Ghost shifts, sitting up a little straighter, watching as you and Price go back and forth. When you’ve finished talking, and Price is satisfied with your answers, you lean back in your chair and Soap sees Ghost's knee nudge against yours once more. He catches your quick glance over to Ghost, though he’s back to paying attention to Price, and the way you try to hide your smile by pretending to scratch the tip of your nose. 

The next time Ghost shifts, you meet him in the middle and set your knee against his, staying that way for the remainder of the meeting. 

-

If Soap thought Ghost's hovering was bad when you were recovering from your leg injury after Las Almas, he doesn’t want to know what Ghost will be like after this.

He’ll probably move his bed into the infirmary, Soap laughs to himself as he wraps bandages around your poorly patched head. The ambush had taken the team by surprise, with a private quickly ushering you away for safety. Unfortunately, “safety” turned out to be in the direct line of an oncoming grenade and the ensuing explosion knocked you head-first into a nearby humvee.

You don’t remember much after that. At some point after the fight, you're picked up, then placed in the passenger seat of the humvee. Someone orders you to talk Soap through bandaging the bleeding slice on the side of your head before Soap appears holding a roll of gauze and a canteen of water.

(Soap assumes it’s to give you something to concentrate on so you don’t fall asleep and worsen your concussion, but you know it’s so Ghost can find the private in charge of your safety and give him the dressing down of a lifetime.)

“You’re wrapping my eye, Soap,” you groan, leaning slightly away from him. He curses under his breath, unraveling the last loop of bandages.

“Sorry, Doc. Not as good at this as you,” Soap jokes. 

“You were doing fine until you tried to turn me into a pirate.” Soap scoffs in mock offense and playfully nudges your shoulder. He readjusts the bandage near your left ear, moving it up just slightly when he sees the thin black lines peeking out from the bottom. Curiosity overtakes him, as he “adjusts” your bandages again, lifting the bottom to reveal a simple outline of a skull he knows all too well tattooed in black ink just behind your ear. 

“How’re we doing?” 

Soap slides the bandage back down at the sudden sound of Ghost’s voice as the Lieutenant approaches the humvee. 

“All good to go,” Soap says, clapping his hands and stepping back. You feel around the bandages, humming in satisfaction.

“Not bad, Soap,” you smile at him, “keep practicing and you might put me out of a job.” You give him a wink before pushing forward to stand on your feet. You stumble only a little, using the humvee door for balance and Soap doesn’t miss the slight way Ghost’s hands flinch to help you before you right yourself.

“Five minutes and I’ll be ready to move,” you nod to Ghost.

“I’ll hold you to that.” There’s a brief moment, where Ghost’s intense gaze focuses directly on you, eyes moving back and forth between your head wound and your face. His shoulders tense, hands flexing into fists before he looks towards Soap and the moment’s gone. 

“Let’s go, Sergeant,” Ghost calls, walking past Soap towards the other vehicles. Soap follows, turning back just once to see the private who had been with you approach you sheepishly, eyes cast down at the ground. You set a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, saying something Soap’s too far away to hear, and turn to lead him back to your vehicle.

-

It isn’t his intention to end up in the infirmary first thing in the morning, but Soap’s day seems to be off to a particularly shitty start as he wakes up with the mother of all migraines. He’s tempted to power through it, but as soon as he sits up the world spins, and feels so nauseous he considers it a miracle he didn’t immediately puke right there. 

It takes him a while to make his way to the infirmary, but he gets there without incident. One hand rubbing his temple, Soap leans forward to push the infirmary door open. It swings open before he can reach the crash bar and he nearly falls forward, almost colliding into Ghost. 

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap curses, stepping back to allow Ghost out of the infirmary.

“You alright, Johnny?” 

“‘m fine, Lt,” Soap sighs, giving Ghost a half-smile and lazy thumbs-up. Ghost doesn’t seem to believe him, but then again, Ghost’s face is just like that so Soap’s not sure if his excuse works. “Just wanted to say mornin’ to the Doc.” 

“Right…” Ghost’s eyes travel over Soap, narrowing slightly as he looks back up at Soap’s face. His eyes seem darker, Soap thinks, and when he looks closer he notices the crease of fresh paint on Ghost’s eyelids. They stand for a moment, silently scrutinizing each other before Soap breaks the tension. 

“You been up a while?” Soap asks even though he knows the answer. It’s not uncommon in their line of work to have uneven sleep patterns, but Ghost has one of the most fucked up sleeping schedules Soap has ever seen; Soap isn’t sure he’s ever actually seen Ghost sleep for more than a thirty-minute power nap. 

“For a few hours. The Doc needed my help with something,” Ghost shrugs, “heading down to the practice range now, if you care to join?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a bit.”

Ghost nods, starting down the hallway, “Take your time,” he calls back towards Soap, “no sense in rushing. We both know I'm the better shot anyways.”

Cheeky fucker. 

Soap rolls his eyes, pushing the infirmary door open and stepping inside. He finds you at your desk in the back, sorting through reports, and sipping from a small mug filled with steaming tea. 

“Mornin’, Doc.” You look up in surprise, smiling as Soap pulls up a chair on the other side of your desk.

“Good morning! Something I can help you with?” 

“Got anything for a migraine?” 

“Ouch,” you grimace at him, “lemme see what I got for you.” You down the rest of your tea, setting the mug back on your desk as you begin rifling through the drawers. Soap exhales in relief, scrubbing a hand down his face and pressing into his closed eyes to try and distract from the pain. He opens one eye as you hum, but you’re still looking through your desk, picking through pill bottles. 

Soap takes the time to look over your desk; you have a system of organized chaos composed of stacks of folders, sticky notes, two mugs, an impressive collection of colorful paperclips, a pile of labeled pens, and-

-Wait. 

He looks back, checking to make sure he isn’t seeing things, and, yes, two empty mugs are sitting atop your desk. He knows which one is yours- it’s the same one you always use- the adorably round one painted to look like a sheet ghost (a joke Soap is just now getting), but the solid black one next to yours is unfamiliar. 

“Aha!” You find the bottle you’re looking for and hold it out to Soap. “Take two of these, and grab some food. It should kick in in about thirty minutes to an hour.” Soap reaches to grab the pill bottle, but his attention is pulled towards your hand that appears to be smeared with a black…something? He takes the bottle and examines the faint black fingerprints staining the orange plastic.

“What happened?” he asks, nodding toward your hands.

“Oh!” You examine your hands, rubbing some of the excess stuff off. “One of my pens broke and the ink got everywhere. I thought I got all of it, sorry-” Soap shrugs noncommittally, “-guess we’re both having one of those mornings, huh? Here, let me get you some water to take those with.” You stand, grab both mugs, and disappear to the other side of the infirmary. Soap pops the pill bottle open, eyes roaming over your desk as he fishes out two of the chalky blue pills. 

With the mugs gone, he has a better view of the right side of your desk and, more importantly, what had been sitting behind them: an opened and well-used circular tin of standard-issue black camouflage face paint. He doesn’t know how he didn’t put two-and-two together as soon as he saw your hands, but he’ll blame the migraine in this case. 

The Doc asked me to help with something, my arse.

-

It’s one of the hottest days on record so, of course, it only stands that today would be the day for the A/C to go out. 

You’ve had more people coming in and out of your infirmary in the last six hours than you’ve had in the past six months. Handing out ice packs like candy on Halloween and treating multiple cases of almost-heat stroke, you’ve been nothing short of slammed since you walked into the infirmary this morning. Like everyone else, you’re miserable in the sweltering heat, your jacket hanging wide open and sleeves rolled up above your elbows. It does little to help. 

“Got a delivery for you, Doc,” Soap calls out, waltzing into the infirmary during the first lull you’ve had since morning. He holds out a tall thermos, shaking it so you can hear something sloshing inside. He’s abandoned his ACU jacket, standing there in a black cotton beater, smiling widely, but you can see the beads of sweat rolling down his face and collecting on his collarbone. “Ice water, fresh from the mess.”

“John MacTavish, you are my hero.” You snatch the thermos from his hands, gulping down the chilling water and letting out an obscene groan. 

“Well, it’s nice to finally be appreciated,” Soap winks. You hum, flopping down into an empty chair and leaning back to take another swig from the thermos. 

“Any word on the A/C?” you ask between frantic sips. Once you’ve had your fill, you hold the thermos loosely in your hand as you lean back in your chair.

“Nothing yet. Price said…” Soap trails off as you grab the collar of your own beater and pull at it in a poor attempt to fan yourself. It’s not so much the action that catches his attention, but the small metal chain around your neck with two solid black rings hanging from it. Soap’s never been married before, but he knows a wedding ring when he sees one. Though the fact you’re wearing both rings only leads to more questions. He supposes Ghost has never seemed the type to wear jewelry. Then again, Ghost never seemed the type for marriage, either. 

“Price said…?” 

“Huh?” Soap snaps his eyes back up to your face, praying that you hadn’t just caught him staring near your chest, but you have your head leaned back with your eyes shut tight and the frigid metal of the thermos pressed against your forehead. 

“You said, Price said…and then stopped?”

“Right! Right, yeah, he said it should be fixed by this evening.” You groan in disgust and sluggishly sit up in your chair. You move the thermos from your forehead to your neck, sighing as the chilled metal meets your overheated skin, but all Soap can focus on is the necklace that now hangs outside of your shirt. The rings clink together softly as you move, setting the thermos down and wiping the sweat from your brow. 

“I-”

Soap turns as the doors swing open and another medic rushes in. “Incoming, Doc: two more passed out on the practice range!” 

Soap turns back to you and finds the necklace tucked back into your shirt as you chug the last of your water. You toss him the empty thermos with a thankful smile. 

“No rest for the wicked, eh Soap?” 

-

Missions don’t often go wrong for the 141, but it does happen on occasion. However, they’ve never had a mission end with this many injured before.

You already dismissed Price, his injuries treated with strict orders for three days of bed rest, at least. Gaz had been a bit more extensive and, while you were tempted to keep him overnight, he assured you he was fine enough to sleep in his own cot. You let him go but stressed that if he felt off in any sort of way, to hightail it back to the infirmary. 

Which left Ghost and Soap. Between the two of them, it took you and two other medics a full thirty-six hours to finally get them stable and it was another full day before either of them woke up. You let them rest, waiting until they’ve gotten enough strength to be relatively back to normal before you tell the other medics you’ll take over and they can worry about other patients. 

You wait until the three of you are alone to lay into them, a week’s worth of built-up frustration, stress, and worry spilling out of you. 

“Why is it always you two? I swear, every heli Price gets in is shot down and crashes in some fiery explosion, and still, you two manage to outdo any injury he’s ever gotten!”

Soap, at least, has the sense to look ashamed as you pace around the room, airing every grievance you can think of. Ghost’s eyes follow your every step, but he says nothing, taking every insult you throw. Your rant lasts for nearly an hour before you collapse into a chair and cover your face with your hands, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyelids. They can hear you taking deep breaths, counting backward from ten under your breath. 

“Sorry for worryin’ ya, Doc,” Soap speaks softly. You sigh, dropping your hands to your lap.

“S’alright, I just…want you to be more careful.” You don’t look at either of them as you sit up, one hand coming up to massage your neck. Guilt crawls up his spine as Soap takes in the deep bags under your eyes and the weighted hunch of your shoulders. “Try and get some rest, both of you. We’ll see how you’re feeling in the morning.” With that, you head back to your desk, busying yourself with catching up on reports. 

He isn’t sure what wakes him, but when Soap opens his eyes, it’s nearly pitch black with the clock reading 3:11 a.m. in bright red. He shifts, trying not to tear his stitches as he gets more comfortable, and turns to his right to check on Ghost. He finds the curtain between their beds drawn just enough so that he can barely see Ghost’s head from where he’s laying and a soft light from one of the bedside lamps glowing behind it.

“Two’s the perfect number, in my opinion.” That’s your voice, murmuring softly from the other side of the curtain. Quietly, and carefully, Soap pushes himself up further in his bed, sitting up so he can angle his head to see around the curtain. When he does, he immediately sinks his teeth into his cheek to keep from making noise.

Ghost is sitting up, propped up by an army of pillows and you’re sitting on a low stool on the right side of his bed with your back to him so you can stretch back and lay your head in his lap. His right hand is draped over you, lightly running his fingers over the set of rings on your necklace as you talk.

“I think three would be too many, plus then we’d have to deal with the whole middle child syndrome thing.” 

…what are you talking about?

“Two’s it for you, huh?” Ghost asks, the tiredness evident in his already gruff voice. 

“Yeah-” you turn your head and smile up at him, “-a boy and a girl. Not sure about names, though. For a girl, I was originally thinking Kate, after Laswell, but the more I think about it, the less sure I am about it. Then I was thinking we could name her after one of the guys, but the only one whose name would even work would be Kyle’s; we could turn that into Kylie. What do you think?” There’s a long silence as Ghost stares down at the rings sitting against your chest. It lasts so long, Soap starts to think Ghost has fallen asleep when the man suddenly gathers the rings in his hand, staring down at the black metal in his palm. 

“Spent a lot of time thinking about this, have you?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he calls your name, quiet but firm, and you sigh. 

“It’s just a fantasy,” you whisper, ”like how people talk about what they’ll do when they win the lottery.”

“So, you don’t want-”

“With you, of course, I do.” One of your hands slides gently up his torso, stopping at the extensive bandages wrapped around his chest, while the other absently fiddles with the hair on the left side of your head, skirting over the scar left by the humvee. “But do you honestly think we’ll live long enough for it to happen?”

The room lapses into silence, the only sound a soft echo of the ticking clock beside Soap’s bed. I shouldn’t be listening to this, Soap thinks to himself. He carefully maneuvers himself back down the bed, going even further to lay facing away from the curtain, and you, and Ghost, and any talks of children and impossible futures. He squeezes his eyes shut in a futile attempt at sleep, but his mind is going a million miles a minute and Soap knows he won’t be sleeping for the rest of the night.

Several long minutes pass by in the quiet dark, before Ghost speaks again, “What would you name him?”

“Hm?”

“The boy, what would you name him?”

Your answer is instant.

“Thomas.”

[girasois]

words for users !

ideias de palavras aleatórias para ajudar você a criar seu próprio user;

random ideas of words to help you to create your own user.

core -> aesthetic core

vlog -> daily videos

logs -> daily facts

mp3 -> audio file format

m4p -> apple audio file format

mp4 -> video file format

txt -> text format

jpeg -> image file format

jpg -> image file format

png -> image file format

gif -> animated file format

raw -> uncompressed file format

zip -> compressed archive file format

rar -> compressed archive file format

web -> internet file format

doc -> document file

pdf -> document file

vinyl -> phonograph record

film -> motion picture; photography

user -> person who utilizes a computer or network service

i2 -> "keeping it real"

self -> a person's essential being

itself -> a person's essential being

priv -> private

luv -> love's short form

tale -> a fictitious or true narrative or story

archive -> to place or store (something) in an archive

list -> connected items

tier -> a type of hierarchy

talk -> speak in order to express something

chat -> to have a conversation

post -> to announce or publish something

zone -> a subject to particular restrictions

vie -> life in french

tie -> to form a knot or bow in

on/online -> connected to a network

byte -> a group of binary digits 

bits -> a small piece, part, or quantity of something

ram -> hardware in a computing device

8bit -> computer term used to designate either color depth

pixel -> a minute area of illumination on a display screen

data -> things known or assumed as facts

series -> a number of things, events, or people of a similar kind

village -> a self-contained community within a town or city

lab -> a laboratory

lady -> a woman

miss -> a form of address to a woman

mister -> a form of address to a man

error -> something not found

art -> the various branches of creative activity

petit -> small in french

poet -> a person possessing special powers of imagination or expression

thing -> an object without a specific name

stuff -> a vague reference to additional things

vogue -> the prevailing fashion or style at a particular time

tv -> taylor's version and/or television as a system or form of media

media -> the main means of mass communication

topia -> an imagined place or state of things in which everything is perfect

saur -> forming names of extinct reptiles such as dinosaurs

tune -> a melody, one that characterizes a particular piece of music

deun -> melody in deutsch

off/offline -> disconnected from the Internet

gloss -> shine or luster on a smooth surface

fae -> a fairy, in modern fantasy fiction

[renthebarbarian]

No offense to modern Doctor Who but why does every companion stay in the TARDIS until some horrible life altering thing forces them to leave (death, trapped in a parallel universe, memories forcibly taken, etc.). I miss how in Classic Who most companions just said “Hey Doc, this has been fun but I think it’s time I went home” or “hey this planet is pretty cool, I think I’m going to stay here” and the Doctor was just like “okay cool, I’ll always remember you fondly, bye!”

[fansplaining]

Calling all fandom journalists—both current and aspiring! As promised, we've put together a doc for pitching Fansplaining (which will temporarily become a written-only publication after Flourish's last episode next month). If you've got an idea that fits in with our general tone and approach, please send int our way!

We highlight these pieces in the doc, but in case folks are unaware that we're *currently* a written publication as well as a podcast, here's a sample of some of the stuff we've published over the years!

Kayti Burt on the specific challenges of being a “fan-journalist”

@earlgreytea68 on how U.S. copyright law doesn’t understand—or account for—fan creativity

Maria Temming on whump, featuring extensive interviews with whumpers

@areyougonnabe on the ever-mutating life of Tumblr and its communities

Keidra Chaney on stan culture’s intersections with corporate interests

@elizabethminkel on the uneasy relationship between fans and Hollywood at SDCC

Caroline Crampton on WIPs, from modern fics-in-progress to Victorian serializations

@elizabethminkel on the past, present, and future of the “Mary Sue”

@flourish on the deeply annoying reason mainstream publications spell it “fan fiction”

Also please note: we're v transparent about money here. We *deeply* appreciate our Patreon support, but we can't afford to pay a ton or publish super frequently with the current amount we take in. So if any generous folks are interested in sponsoring smart, substantive writing on fandom in the future, please get in touch. fansplaining at gmail dot com. :-))

[doks-aux]

I started writing THE most self-indulgent thing today. I may only ever show it to, like, five people but eeeeee hee hee heeeee~

[abbysdruidess]

˜”°•.˜”°• cuddling with Abby headcanons - modern au •°”˜.•°”˜

wc: 1.2 k

summary: how you and Abby share your bed and exchange affection throughout the course of your relationship

tags: domestic fluff, smut, abby strapping you into the next millennium, desc of oral(Abby receiving), she’s a doc in this one, mentions of nightmares

a/n: this is in the form of headcanons and slight drabbles- it's also on par with the entirety of my modern au fics so make sure to check em out if you already haven't:))

and ofc, don't hesitate to send me more asks abt my lovely Abigail-I'll always be there to respond<33

ꜱꜰᴡ

❦ In the beginning of your relationship, Abby isn’t particularly affectionate - you two aren’t very close and are still forming mutual habits with one another. At this stage, you don’t know much about Abby’s past relationships, although you assume they have gone poorly by the way she seems to keep you at arm's length. Our lil Abigail still feels cautious about letting another person in her life, the harsh words of her ex had managed to get under her skin and make her feel like Frankenstein’s monster-defeminized and unloveable. Time after time though, she manages to warm up to you, keeping you close to her heart and allowing herself to feel loved. She indulges herself in both your sweet words and your physical affection, which renders her complete again. She encompasses you in her big, beefy arms and she can relax and unwind after a long day at the hospital. Now, she swears to you she can’t fall asleep if you aren’t in bed, or she hasn’t kissed you goodnight.

❦ Seriously, there’s no better therapy for Abby Anderson than when you plop on her chest, nuzzling in between her breasts and leave soft lil kissies on her neck. Bonus points if you wrap your arms around her neck and your legs around her waist. The more skin on skin contact, the better.

❦ When you started going out though, Abby overloads on the affection she’s never experienced and finds it appropriate to tease you for your cuddling habits.

“What’s up babe? Can’t handle falling asleep without me?” she grins from ear to ear as she changes into her pajamas, which are a pair of soft drawstring sweatpants and nothing else:))

“C’mon Abs.” You pout. “Don’t get cocky.”

She reaches for you from across the bed and wraps an arm around your waist, squeezing the soft fat that pools there. “Not unless you ask nicely babe” She whispers in your ear.

❦ Thus, she nicknames you ‘snuggles’ whenever you get too touchy feely, and uses it a little too heavy handed for your liking. 

 She had just gotten home from a 12 hour shift, and she couldn't feel more exhausted; her feet were screaming after standing up all day, her eyes were droopy and her briefcase was unceremoniously tossed on the coffee table along with her keys. 

“Baby?” She heard your endearing, sickly sweet voice calling her from the kitchen along with the smell of her favorite pasta dish and she let out a slight groan of delight.

Suddenly, your head appears on the doorframe and you close the distance in between you in a few, wide steps. You wrap an arm around her upper waist, rubbing up and down her sculpted back, while the other one reaches to pull the hair tie off her hair and let it loose.

“Mhmm, I missed you Abs.” You bury your face in the space between her neck and her shoulder.

“Me too baby. Are you up for lying down on the couch for a little bit? We can eat in an hour or so. Right now, I just wanna nap with you, snuggles.”

“Abby-”

❦ Seriously though, her façade crumbles easily in the early mornings, when she is still comfortably numb with sleep and doesn’t care if she comes across as too needy. She’ll bear hug you from the behind, and happily nuzzle her face in your hair, breathing in your familiar, comforting scent. She’ll pepper soft kisses on your neck, and put one leg over your hip so you don’t astir before her. When she’s on her back, she cups the back of your head with one hand as the other one wanders on the plush skin of your thigh, rubbing circles on it with slow, hypnotizing movements. 

“Bee” You stroke her long wisps of dirty blonde hair out of her face. “We have to wake up sometime.”

“S’ five more minutes” She insists, and wraps her arms tighter around you.

❦ Of course, she still gets nightmares every now and then, and cuddling with you helps her land back to reality. It isn’t unusual for you to wake up to the alarming sound of her teeth grinding. When you do, you call out her name until she has finally woken up, so you can calm her down. 

“I-I don’t know what happened” She stammers, reaching for the glass of water on her nightstand. “All I remember is you screaming for help, and it was very dark and i was alone and fuck-”

You gently shush her, wrapping your arms around her and rocking back and forth. “We’re both safe Abs.” You kiss a line from her cheek to her mouth. “Go back to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

❦ When she gets sick, Abby insists you don’t go within three feet of her to avoid her contagion. Again, this crumbles very quickly, and you end up laying with her head on your lap as you routinely check her temperature and plop a pill in her mouth. Whenever you’re sick however, Abby couldn’t care less about getting sick herself, and has an arm wrapped around you at all times as you’re lying in bed, trying to make you feel better.

“C’mon baby, come closer, I won’t get sick. Dr Anderson is gonna make you feel all better.”

ɴꜱꜰᴡ

❦ The first time she ever gave you her strap, she could tell it completely knocked you out. Of course, she made sure to prep you correctly and use plenty of lube, but it was still quite the experience to say the least. The way your skin was soaked in sweat, breathing heavily, hole clenching and unclenching after the pounding it took definitely did things to her. After she cleaned you up and hand fed you some leftovers from her fridge, she instinctively wrapped her arms around you, wanting to preserve the sanctity and the quietness of post-coital bliss. Something inside her told her she had to keep you close, had to take care of this woman lying on her bed and make sure she’s safe and content. That night, you fell asleep on her chest, listening to the little boop boops of her heart and basking in her pine scent and miles of freckly skin.

❦ You also make sure to take her especially well after long, tedious work hours by making her come again and again on your tongue. It’s exceptionally good when she’s on her back on the bed, you under the sheets, and she buries a hand in your hair and she groans and moans loudly enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Once you’re through, she’s pulling you by the hair to kiss you all over and tell you what a great job you did, how you always care for her and make her come so good. 

Hazy eyed, smiling softly, her cheeks flushed red she connects her mouth with yours, as you suck on her tongue slowly, letting her taste herself. 

“Mhmm, such a good wife for me baby, giving me head so good” She murmurs, the tiredness seeping in her voice. She lowers your head to lie right above her shoulder, the comfortable silence lulling you both to a soft, dreamless sleep. You’re sure that she’ll want to return the favor, but right now you’ll happily sleep alongside Abby, hoping she gets her well deserved rest.

[starstruckmoony]

style.

masterlist

pairing - sirius black x fem!reader

summary - you and sirius start dating after accidentally running into each other at a concert but confirm nothing, just to watch everyone lose their shit online.

trope/tags - band/celeb!au, instagram/social media!au, modern!au, fluff, terrible humour

word count - 1k

warnings - language

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

yourusername

❤ liked by starmanblack, cissy_blck, r.a.black and 804,337 others

yourusername mirror's dirty but i felt pretty

7,164 comments

starmanblack damn smash

yourusername thirsty mf

starmanblack you're not wrong

cissy_blck i promise i'm cooler than your boyfriend

luciusssy i love you too bae

cissy_blck 🥰

bartyyy can you sign my house?

yourusername i'll see what i can do

lily_evans UMMMMMM MOTHER?

mmmckinnon mommy.

prongsyboy mama?

starmanblack PRONGS

user128836 i don't know the colour of anything

user702655 YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND????

user358991 sirius said smash and i agree

user073823 the only man we trust

user662627 i'm gonna clown so hard but why did half of sirius family like this post?

user491175 i almost sent a thirst tweet

starmanblack

❤ liked by yourusername, ev.rosier, marymacdonald and 799,853 others

starmanblack boyfriend vibes 😩

6,897 comments

yourusername very real

starmanblack i'm flattered

yourusername you better be

yourusername you still smell like horse tho

starmanblack go away

prongsyboy did you tell him i said hi?

starmanblack i got you his autograph

mmmckinnon you didn't even tag the photographer smh

starmanblack why are you offended in the name of the photographer?

mmmckinnon i'm just defending my wifey

casmeadowes i wasn't there???

user075764 DATE ME

user246766 you single?

user113388 he's dating y/n l/n

user300722 i volunteer to take your bf photos 🤚

user943534 CONFIRM THE RUMOURS I'M BEGGING

user855465 y/n has a boyfriend and you just put boyfriend in the caption so i'll live in delusion from now on

user464646 i wanna be a horse

prongsyboy added to their story

yourusername

❤ liked by starmanblack, pandorasbox, rjlupin and 844,008 others

yourusername london, i'm speechless. i had the most amazing time with all of you last night and i can't wait to perform for you again 💞 hearing you guys sing your hearts out with me was truly magical, thank you sooo much and i love love love every single one of you 💕 also! a special thanks that friend group from the first row who gave me a bunch of plushies, my heart is extra happy 😚

tagged ev.rosier

8,677 comments

starmanblack i was there, i can confirm

yourusername I COULDN'T SEE YOU IN THE CROWD AT FIRST AND I GOT SO SAD

starmanblack lol i love you sm

starmanblack my guitar fits your aesthetic nicely

yourusername i know right?!? me and her were meant to be

marymacdonald when i say best concert of my life i mean it

yourusername i don't deserve you

bartyyy first row seats hmghnhm 😩

yourusername perks of dating the photographer

ev.rosier you're welcome bartemius

user201010 i cried ugly tears

user927161 i formally apologise to the people who were near me 💀

user472738 ARE Y'ALL SEEING THIS??? THEY'RE DEFO DATING

user928312 YOU PLAYED MY FAVOURITE SONG AND I WASN'T THERE 😭😭😭

user446286 one of those plushies was from meeeee

user018381 lost my voice but it feels so right

starmanblack

❤ liked by yourusername, marymacdonald, lily_evans and 810,777 others

starmanblack ok.

7,995 comments

yourusername he loves you

starmanblack he bit my converse

yourusername it was an act of love

starmanblack AND HE STOLE ONE OF MY DOCS

yourusername IT. WAS. AN. ACT. OF. LOVE.

yourusername bet you deserved that

starmanblack you were just saying he loves me?

yourusername was i though?

vance_emm what in the gaslighting hell is going on above me?

r.a.black wdym? i'm loving it

user242539 i've yet to see a normal picture of this little guy

user301453 THE BICKERING LMAOOO

user463646 HELP HE'S VIOLATING YOU

user857433 he's in his reputation era

user302770 THIS DOG PLS

yourusername added to their story

celeb_gossip

♡ 37,022 likes

celeb_gossip a scandal is on its way! 👀 there's been word on the street that sirius black and y/n l/n have had a little something going on since the beginning of the year, and we are almost certain that this isn't just another case of senseless rumours. 🙈 other than constantly interacting with one another on social media, the two have been pictured entering l/n's apartment after what seemed like a romantic night out. 😌 several sources can prove that the couple has been caught in ways that scream everything BUT platonic, and we deem them quite credible. 😉 but in the light of all of this, the two singers haven't said anything. what do you think? 🤔 are they secretly together? 🤭 or are they secretly laughing at all of us? 😶 leave your opinion in the comments! 😘

12,558 comments

user438185 oH

user019570 EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user837999 i hope they sue you lol

user262626 they're defo laughing at us

user823715 THE POWER THESE TWO WOULD HOLD AS A COUPLE

user192072 LMAO THEY'D BREAK THE INTERNET IF THEY CONFIRMED IT

user137753 get a life wtf

user020191 pretty sure they're together

user647275 this is out of line

user244411 nah cause paps should be illegal

user302906 I NEED THEM TO SAY SOMETHING I'M LITERALLY FREAKING OUT

user522727 dunno but i want whatever they have going on

yourusername

❤ liked by bellatrixieb, cissy_blck, r.a.black and 855,006 others

yourusername tea pages are saying that i'm dating this weirdo 🤪

tagged starmanblack

10,675 comments

starmanblack people just love being funny

yourusername making me shed tears

starmanblack you could have found a better picture at least 🙄

yourusername fym? this is top tier stuff

starmanblack you're not getting your shades back

yourusername funny 🤣 i'll steal them back today 😐

vance_emm yeah and i'm a hamster

marymacdonald you kind of look like one though 🥺

mmmckinnon LMAOOOOO

starmanblack not you talking

mmmckinnon lmaoing ≠ talking

user283800 guess this confirms it ☹

user916373 WHY DO REG AND SIRIUS' COUSINS KEEP LIKING ALL YOUR POSTS THIS MAKES ME CONFUSEDDDD

user758234 does this mean you're free to date me?

user424116 YOU'RE TROLLING US

user021725 double meaning? (pls say sike i'm desperate)

user024477 calling sirius up rn

user555641 GUYS THERE'S STILL HOPE MAYBE THEY'RE JOKING AROUND

user828295 okay but does it actually matter 💀

starmanblack

❤ liked by lily_evans, pandorasbox, casmeadowes and 873,253 others

starmanblack feeding the paps

11,994 comments

yourusername bet they're still starving

starmanblack we should make out and post it

yourusername twitter will go CRAZYYY

yourusername we look dead tho

starmanblack i reckon it's the cheap wine

yourusername you calling me poor?

starmanblack 😇

prongsyboy i still don't get how or why you had my glasses

starmanblack aesthetic purposes

xeno_lovegood that's cute 🤩

starmanblack facts ong fr fr

cissy_blck reggie's sil

bellatrixieb i'm so jealous

user472721 I WANT

user882923 I CAN'T DECIDE WHO THE LUCKY ONE IS

user382541 NAUR STOP MESSING WITH US

user773724 WHATTGEDHQUXJQDJJQSJJW

user482972 OH MY GOD?????????

user362613 narcissa's comments making me all hopeful

user924474 I'M SO STRESSED

starmanblack added to their story

[discordsmuse]

Discordsmuse Masterlist

❀•°❀°•❀

Hello friends! Finally putting together a masterlist to make it easier for you guys to find all my fanfics here since I only post to AO3!

These will be organized by fandom and character.

❀•°❀°•❀

Baldur's Gate 3

Halsin

dance me to the end of love, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Halsin admit to their feelings post-Moonrise and fuck on a balcony.

Silence, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav and Halsin fuck in a closet

Do Unto Others, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav wants to give Halsin some attention and convinces him to let her be the giver for once.

Enver Gortash

body more than just a flesh, you can sell it for success, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is invited to dinner with the Archduke and things get a little heated.

i will give you all that you need, NSFW/18+: Sequel to the above, Fem!Tav and Gortash bathe together before Enver gets a little handsy.

gracious men are those who suffer, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Enver w/ a free use kink.

legacy with no memory, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Enver Gortash w/a pregnancy kink

I wanna know my god, At least enough to fear Her, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Gortash have a lil bit of hate sex

Gale Dekarios

be my nightfire, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav catches Gale mid-alone time. Feelings and sex ensue.

Abdirak

sanctify you bedsheets with the sweat along your hips, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is fascinated by Abdirak and nervously asks him to teach her about Loviatar.

Raphael

delightful little detour, NSFW/18+: Canon rewrite for what happens when Fem!Tav tells Raphael he's bad at sex.

Let the Dream Begin, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael Phantom of the Opera AU, slowburn

Office Hours, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael College AU

Rolan

i wanna have a home, i wanna share it, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Rolan get together post-saving the tieflings from moonrise.

❀•°❀°•❀

Pirates of the Caribbean

Hector Barbossa

The Pirate Lord, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader post-Elizabeth being kinged.

All That Glitters, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite pre-CotBP

Liar's Bet, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite during CotBP and DMC

feel the edges start to burn, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader where reader is friends w/Carina

❀•°❀°•❀

Harry Potter

Severus Snape

isn't it lovely (all alone), NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader closet sex

no death in rebirth, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader longform amnesia oneshot

Brought to Life, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader marauder's era classmates to lovers lol

❀•°❀°•❀

Dead by Daylight

Canon/Canon

Contention, NSFW/18+: Ace/Meg against a tree hatesex

Breaking Point, NSFW/18+: Megmillan first time

It's Alright, Teen/16+: The survivors and killers recover post-entity

Anna/The Huntress

Not so much taming as growing accustomed, Mature/16+, Huntress/Reader friendship to lovers

Herman Carter/The Doctor

Untethered, NSFW/18+, The Doctor/Reader where reader annoying him but in the fun, bratty way

❀•°❀°•❀

Resident Evil Village

Karl Heisenberg

Business Partners with Benefits, NSFW/18+: Heisenberg/Reader where reader is Moreau's niece

❀•°❀°•❀

Spider Man

Dr. Otto Octavius/Doc Ock

Working Overtime, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is his lab assistant

Bedside Manner, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is Doc Ock's lover

❀•°❀°•❀

Labyrinth

Jareth the Goblin King

Midsummer, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader at the midsummer fae ball

don't leave me lonely, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader sequel to Midsummer

❀•°❀°•❀

The band Ghost

Papa Emeritus IV/Cardinal Copia

Better Than, NSFW/18+: Copia/Reader where he's a little insecure about Terzo being better than him

❀•°❀°•❀

Dracula

Dracula (lol)

Nice Costume, NSFW/18+: Dracula/Reader in a modern setting at a party

❀•°❀°•❀

Our Flag Means Death

Israel Hands

we do get desperate, now and again, Mature/16+: Fem!Reader/Izzy hurt/comfort unrequited love.

i wanna be yours, Mature/18+: Fem!Reader/Izzy first time together

❀•°❀°•❀

The Quarry (2022)

Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

• fell in love with the fever, Explicit/18+: Travis and Laura are forced to spend some time together 6 months after the incident.

❀•°❀°•❀

This list will grow/change as I write more :D Thanks for reading!

[suguru-getos]

| Aftermath | Keigo Takami x f!TherapistReader |

-> chapter one

summary: hawks who has just lost his quirk in the war & coping with his life as a quirkless man, decides to finally listen to his own self & seek therapy. why did he choose a quirkless therapist? maybe to seek solidarity— or maybe, he hoped you’d not judge him.

warnings: therapy, childhood!trauma, bnha!spoilers, mentions of inner child healing, keigo talks about his childhood, mentions of toxic!parenting, cocky!kei as always.

a/n: don't mind me giving my comfort character and my loml some healing lmaooo <33 i had sm fun writing this istg it made my heart warm. this is a slow burn fic, and the reader is a self-insert on some points because i can get self indulgent tehee!!

You wandered aimlessly, looking around the suite-like cabin and then down the skyline. Tokyo was always beautiful, even now when winters had just started to greet. There was a foggy blanket of clouds covering the labyrinth of buildings and you could never get over it. With your next client, it was obvious your thoughts were along the lines of… an Angel flying out in the skies keeping everyone safe, now reduced to someone without wings. Still an Angel though, but that's what you think. Maybe he doesn't.

You grimly sighed when your eyes wandered at the clock, there were still 30 minutes to your appointment, normally… someone like you would never get the opportunity to deal with heroes so popular. Hawks was a no show after the war, people thought he had died. People thought he left Japan for good. Though a faint glimmer of hope always made you want to believe he's still around. To your surprise when he was your client, you felt a knot on your stomach churn with anticipation and excitement.

You sat on your velvety chair, the lights dim and comfortable to the modernized architecture of your office. You gulped, opening his file and looking at the passport photograph of him. The scar he got in one of the fights in which a villain named Dabi publicized his kill was there, siren eyes staring into your very soul were there. How could you even try to open up someone who looks so ethereal and so threatening at the same time. You feel just as nervous as your first time, the personality that Hawks carries eating away at you slowly. You shook your head, jerking the thoughts away. Be professional, he is a client and you're doing your job.

If you hadn't been so dazed by your favorite hero and your crush; you were quite a number yourself. Cut-throat, not afraid to walk the talk, stern, fierce, kind and disciplined. People respect you and you command it when they don't. Not afraid to force someone to bend the knee if they indulge in animosity with you. It's just… Hawks was someone you admired oh-so-much! You had his merch and posters after all. Not that he would get to know that, oh no. That'd never happen.

Takami Keigo, 26, Born on December 28th. Blood group B+, MBTI-> ENTP, Schooling and training and everything was blank. Difficult, this would be a difficult case to deal with.

How did you fangirl over him? Well, that's perhaps for another day.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. He's here." Your assistant opened the door with a knock and you felt your stomach sink, biting your lip nervously and clearing your throat to gain composure.

"Hey there doc!" there he was, with his magical grin and long palms raised up to his eye level as he waved. Wearing denims and a loose fitted white T-Shirt. Casual, cute, confident.

"Oh hello Hawks!" You manifested the same energy, greeting him respectfully by standing up and bowing a little. "Jeez, can't get rid of the name yet huh?" He chuckles, though your mind has already starting to process if it was a fake one, the carefully crafted hero chuckle or was he genuinely this chill.

"I don't think so, whether or not you do hero work, you own the name." you responded with a smile, ushering him to take his seat. Oh he manspreads, leaning back and getting comfortable. Makes you wonder if he can see through the cracks of your personality just as you're trying to see in his. Who will unfold who first…

You closed the client book you had, looking into the beautiful goldens of his eyes and making eye contact. "So, I know the first session is usually the most awkward one. People try to get to know their shrink before letting themselves to open up." You glanced, and Hawks looked like he would devour you whole. He looked invested in your words, not in a faking concentration way… in a 'I will listen to what you have to say' way.

"Allow me to share some stuff about myself then, my name is Y/N. I am a therapist good morning. Apart from that, I like to participate in various hobbies like kickboxing, journalling, playing games, spending time with my cat, yada yada. I am an INTJ, I think MBTI has started taking the same wavelength in Japan as Korea huh? Everyone's obsessed with em' I think."

"Well" Hawks clicked his tongue, clearly unamused by your introduction, it was brief and curt. Not a fair deal for someone who will unravel him… then again, you are his therapist, not vice versa.

"I think so too, do you know, a lot of the fans pretend to be INTJs because they tend to be compatible with ENTPs?" He chuckled, rolling his eyes. God he does know everything… there was a whole article about this. "We could do the quiz together if you have your concerns." "Shyeah- no, I don't. Just sharin' yknow?" he winked, noticing how you nervously pressed your legs together. He was wearing Killian's Angel Share, and Bad Boy… one of your favorite scents & the effects were almost affecting you almost at a subconscious level.

"Mkay, gotcha! So, anyways… I don't want to force you to open up, take your time in it. Let's start simple. How are you?" You asked Hawks, and for a moment, the barest of seconds, you could see his eyes turn to a void. "Yeah, good, never been better you know? Vacationing now that I have a sick ton of money with practically nothin' to do. Ain't gonna waste it otherwise by being depressed."

You clicked your tongue, oh he would not open up huh? Well, not that you expected this to be an easy ride either. "Yeah, of course. Money does help… helps everyone. At the end of the day I'm sitting on this chair to be paid a hefty by you." You hum, crossing your legs and getting comfortable too. This would be a fierce mental war already. From the determination of a hero and from a healer who's been sought out by the same hero.

"Then again, it isn't everything."

Oh except if you could tell that to childhood Hawks, it was… it was everything. His eyes pale with the answer a little. "Led a very comfortable life haven't you?" He smirked, giving you a miniscule opening.

"Yeah, luckily." You responded, smiling… "Clearly you haven't."

Hawks stood silent at that, and that was an answer enough.

"You were a rich kid since you started your agency, was this your teens or childhood?" Before Hawks could decipher, the session had already begun.

"Well, I was the viral news subject after they found out I was Thief Takami's son." He raised a brow, and you nodded. "Shitty murderer dad, mum?" You felt bad on being so professional, but you also felt Hawks would push you away if you were too kind. Some people have stopped treating him as a person ever since All for One had taken his quirk away.

"Mum was well, absent, mentally." He responded, and shrugged. "Dad was abusive, used to beat me up as a child and mum was too engrossed in her own shit I suppose. Happy for her that she has a new life with a new husband and new kids." It was amusing how Hawks didn't sound salty about it… it could only mean detachment to the finest. A befitting coping mechanism.

"You didn't have to go through that, I'm guessing if I needed to ever, talk to baby Hawks, I can't have a childhood photograph?" You glanced hopefully. "Nah, not a single childhood photograph. Dad was too paranoid of things and mum didn't care."

"We usually uh, have this exercise you know? That you'd keep a picture of your childhood self at your bathroom mirror and remember who you're talking about whenever you feel self-doubt." You smiled, looking into his eyes with empathy but no pity.

"Well, too bad." He chuckled, embarrassed and definitely not liking this emotion.

"Who cares at the end of the day, it's just the first few years of your life." He responded again balming his own thoughts more so than talking to you.

"Yeah, but every phase of our life is important. When your father abused you, hit you, didn't you feel enraged? Or scared? Or both?" You bit your lip, trying to mentally detach as much as possible.

"I felt nothing. I just wanted to not end up like them. If I was as angry as him, then I would become like him. Even my childhood self knew I'm better than that." There was pride in his eyes when he said so.

"True, yes, however… no expectations from your mum to save you?" Hawks shook his head no, shrugging. "She'd get beaten up too."

You nodded, not writing anything down on the paper just yet.

"Alright, I want you to do something for me." He raised a brow when you said that, "I don't want us to traverse further until you try doing this, mkay?" You grinned, "Imagine someone coming to your home, breaking the door at the moment of your abuse, that someone is you. The big, pro hero, you. Then, I'd like you to hold little Keigo's hand, and take him out. How about that?"

Hawks gave you an expression which was a mixture of 'How absurd' and 'Interesting'.

"Do that for me, and do that as many times and in as many scenarios you feel like you needed to be protected. You needed to be healed from." You coo softly… meanwhile Hawks' brain lagged at you saying 'Little Keigo'. So far he thought you didn't know his name… despite it being telecasted worldwide. No, you just refer to old Keigo as Hawks, but little Keigo isn't Hawks… he's just Keigo.

Was he reading too much into this? Would you soon bridge the gap between little Keigo and Hawks? Would you call him Keigo too?

The alarm clock chimed, time was over. You glanced at it and then back at him. "Well, guess you wouldn't be bored anymore, of me." "Hey, give yourself some credit little Shrink." he winked, smirking, "You're really good at this, can't wait to see you next time." "Don't come until you don't do what I asked." "Sure thing jeez."

With that, he left, and you could almost kill yourself at the way you tried to imagine little Hawks in pain. No, attaching to clients is the biggest NO. Yet, you can't help but feel positive tingles at the thought of him doing that little exercise and telling you about it.

Until next time, Keigo Takami.

[ifuckinglovedinosaurssomuchjesus]

On the subject of Dinosaur Documentaries...

So Life On Our Planet dropped a few days ago, another installment of this seeming boom of these kind of shows since Prehistoric Planet last year, and it got me thinking about this whole little niche genre.

The very first "Paleodoc" was released in 1922, made by the Carnegie Museum of Natural History to educate museum goers on how the fossils they saw were collected and prepared. This began the format I like to call the "Talking Heads" Paleodoc which is mainly in the form of interviews or narration over actual footage of Paleontologists at work with the occasional "Live" Dinosaur for visual aid. These are by far the most common form of dinosaur documentary you'll find, even today, mainly because they're cheap to produce and fit in the general style of most science documentaries.

For many decades throughout the 20th century, Paleodocs were pretty rare. They would pop up time to time, and with the sudden influx of attention they got after Jurassic Park, we got some really good ones. Yet they were all the same Talking Head types. What really changed the game was the good ol Magnum Opus of the field: Walking With Dinosaurs.

WWD pioneered the second type of Paleodoc I believe to exist, which are the "In Their World" Paleodocs. These are different in the fact they focus almost entirely on the live visual aids, with the human presence being limited to narration or brief pauses for context. They're meant to simulate the modern nature documentary, like Planet Earth, that focus more on showcasing animal behavior with state of the art filming techniques than being a source of in-depth science.

The success of WWD cannot be overstated, and I have to say I do find the In Their World format a lot more engaging and easier to connect with. They portray the wonder of prehistory spectacularly, letting audiences get emotionally connected in the animal characters the story creates, even if this has lead to criticisms of anthropomorphism. These programs also almost always use real footage of modern day earth for their prehistoric creatures to roam on, which I'm sure is very sad for the people who want to see their favorite dead plants on screen.

The Walking With... series would expand into sequels and spin-offs and Nigel Marven, and other companies like Discovery would jump on the bandwagon and release their own takes on the concept, but by the mid 2010s the format had basically died out. We'd get one or In Their World style doc every few years until we just didn't get anything. Outside of the occasional TV special that reused When Dinosaurs Roamed America footage, it was empty.

It took until Disney's Live Action remake of The Lion King of all things for that pendulum to start swinging again. Seeing those expressionless CGI cats got Jon Favreau thinking about how he could use this technology and the talented people behind it to make something really cool, and we got Prehistoric Planet.

And, in a repeat of Walking With Dinosaurs, we're seeing more of these In Their World type shows. The original guys behind WWD are even making a comeback with their own series, Surviving Earth. Plus even more little hints and rumors of massive incoming projects from overexcited paleontologists trying not to break their embargo.

It looks like the 2020s will be another resurgence in these types of spectacle Paleodocs, and while a good ol Talking Head will always be there, I can't help but get excited for these animated spectacles and all the weird and wonderful ways they flash those visual aids across our TV screens.