#john flirts with math

[sga-mcshep-4ever]

"Think you can fly it?"

"What do you say we find out?"

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

aromantic spectrum awareness week? well, that makes perfect sense. i think agent phoenix (aromantic, romance repulsed) should absolutely be aware of solaris (demiromantic, romance neutral) rapidly approaching their location. to kill them. violently.

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Three

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Flirting. Emotional hurt/comfort. Panic attack. PTSD. Comfort. "You'll be with him?"

“-nna let ‘im die out here-“

“-is too risky without adequate-“ 

Johnny is drowning in a sea of shattered voices, whispers of words that sound like they might be coming from Gaz, or Price, hushed prayers and promises, jargon he doesn’t understand washing over him from unfamiliar, clinical mouths. 

It’s overwhelming. He can hardly get his eyes to open, and when he does, they stay half shut for what feels like hours, even though he knows, logically, it’s mere seconds. 

He’s no longer strapped into a backboard, but a bed, and the ceiling is not metal and rivets, but white and canvas, voices competing with the constant sound of beeping. 

“Soap.” Price leans into his line of sight, hat gone, exhausted. He’s holding a sat phone, the one they usually carry during missions in one hand, a file folder in another. He looks his age, Johnny thinks, for the first time in his career. Looks like he’s spent eons in combat, like he hasn’t had a full night’s rest in a decade. “John. You’re in the hospital on base.” At the use of his government name, Johnny tries to straighten on instinct. The soft, floating feelings he’s been having for the past who knows how long have faded, and his body is starting to feel like it’s been pumped with gasoline, and then lit on fire. From the inside. “Are you with me, Sergeant?” He tries to vocalize, tries to say yes, or nod, but can hardly get his neck to work, bones and ligaments and everything in him screaming in agony. “They want to take you in a flight for life, get you home to a top hospital. Simon's already agreed, but he- he wants to speak with you.” Price wrenches his fingers open and lifts the clunky satellite phone to his face. “I rang him, on the emergency line, at home. Just… you need to-“ he stops, chest heaving with a desperate breath, an indulgence of emotion that Johnny has never seen. His captain wants to tell him- you need to say goodbye, just in case. But he can’t find the words, and Johnny can’t make it fit in his head, the reality, the stark reminder that he could not be here, in a moment. Or an hour. A day. “Open your eyes, John. Stay awake.” 

“Johnny.” The Manchester accent crackles through the receiver. Johnny can almost see him, cell pressed to his face, pacing in the living room. He wonders if he’s got the fireplace lit, if it’s chilly now that it's turning to winter, if there’s been frost on the windows of their little house. If Simon is wearing a pair of sweatpants, if he’s got the television on as he tries to make dinner. “Johnny. Sit rep.” The status check comes through harsh, but the truth is tucked away beneath the grit. Fear. Life altering, heart breaking fear drenches every syllable that spills from his partner. 

Pain sizzles through his muscles, across his brain, but he swallows it, shoves it down into a dark hole for another minute. 

“Pretty banged up.” 

“They’re going to lift you to a hospital,” He thinks he knew that. “and you’re goin’ be alright. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Ah love ye, Si.” It’s all he can say. All he can think about. The excruciating agony that is radiating through his body robs him of everything else. 

“I love you too. Hang on.” Johnny grinds his jaw, blowing short breaths through his nose to try to control his pain response, and then holds his breath when soft babbles echo through the phone. “It’s Da, Pen. It’s Da. Can you say Da?” 

“Da?” Penny mimics her dad, and Johnny wonders if they’re sitting on the couch, Penelope tucked up against Simon’s chest, wispy curls tickling just below his nose as she climbs all over him like a jungle gym. 

“Ma wee lamb.” Johnny whispers. “Ah love ye, Pen.” There’s more babbling, half strung together words, more than appropriate for a fourteen-month-old, and Johnny’s temples shine with tears that drip from the corners of his eyes. There’s talking, around him, people bustling back and forth. A hand brushes against skin, sharp pinch squeezing along the inside of his arm. 

“Can you say, I love you?” Simon encourages, but Johnny knows it’s a lost cause. 

“When she’s old enough to understand, ye tell her Ah loved her, loved her so much. Ye an’ her, is all I ever wished fer.”

“Stop.” Simon breathes. “You’re going to be fine.” 

There’s another poke in his arm, someone lighting a fire in his veins, and he loses the battle to his eyes once more. 

Your neck grumbles in protest when you try to twist it, working out tight muscle and tendon, rolling it across your shoulders and down, back and forth, over and over again.

You should go home. 

You know you should. It’s two hours past seven, you should already be home. Should already be in your flat, showering the workday off and crawling into bed. You could be having a tea, snuggled up in your sweatpants, moving playing on low in the background. Warm, safe. Nearly asleep.

Johnny twitches beside you. His fingers clench in the blankets and then relax, face smoothing out in his dreams. The mask is gone, replaced with the cannula that loops beneath his nose, and the monitor beeps in soothing, reassuring, stable tones. One chime right after another, relaying his vitals to where you sit in Simon’s chair, feet slung over the side, kindle in your lap.

You made a promise. 

And even without that promise, for some reason, you couldn’t just leave Johnny here to wake up alone. The idea of him coming to and being confused, or scared, again, made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Even before you promised Simon to stay earlier, you already knew.

You wouldn’t be leaving.

“He’s had a seizure.” Simon’s eyes widen above the mask and then flatten into something harder, something almost distrusting. “Neuro’s done an exam and they’re of the opinion there will be no long-term deficits, but we’ll need to wait until he wakes to be sure. They’re still trying to figure out what caused it, but most likely it's a result from surgery.” He moves to shoulder by you, no doubt trying to beeline back to Johnny’s room, but you hold your hand up with a pause. “I can’t let you go back in there yet.” 

“Why not?” 

“He’s not awake.” 

“I don’t-“

“Simon, this is the ICU. I don’t know who or what strings you pulled to even be allowed to sit with him in there twenty-four seven, but it’s not the norm. You won’t be allowed back in that room until we are sure he is stable.” You don’t tell him that you don’t want him to be there when Johnny wakes in case there are deficits, that you’re trying to save him from the pain, the heartbreak, of seeing things that patient’s loved ones are not meant to see. 

He regards you silently, and you fidget under the scrutiny, waiting for him to speak, trying to ignore how your mouth is going dry. This isn’t the first he’s watched you like this, stared at you like he’s trying to pick you apart, and you swallow your grimace until the long moment passes, his voice low, gritty with stress. Exhaustion. 

“I’m supposed to go home today for a bit. I… don’t want to leave ‘im.” 

“You can still go. He’s sleeping for now, and when he wakes, they’ll have to do some more tests that you won’t be allowed in the room for anyway.” He looks down the hallway towards Johnny’s room, before his eyes find yours, heavy with grief, indecision. 

“You’ll be with him?” He can’t hide the hopeful inflection at the end of his question, his need for a light in the dark of this situation. 

“I-“ The thought didn’t occur to you, to not be there. You imagined you’d wait until Johnny was cleared by neuro and Simon was allowed back in the room, but the morning has dragged on, and he’s been sleeping peacefully. There’s been no desire to wake him unnecessarily. “Yes. I’ll stay with him. I promise.”  

“He go home?” Johnny’s voice, scratchy from sleep and medication and everything else, startles you from a half doze, spine straightening into a rod before you’re leaping to your feet, leaning over his prone figure.

“You’re awake.” You find his good hand, slipping two fingers into his grip. “Can you squeeze my hand?” When he does, tightly, more strength in it than you were expected, you give him an honest, happy smile, and retreat to the end of the bed, flipping up his blanket to poke at the bottom of his feet. “Can you feel that?”

“Aye.”

“And this?”

“Aye.” He huffs at you, impatient. “Did he go home?” You sigh in response, hand on your hip.

“Yes.”

“Finally. Been tellin’ him he had to. The man’s back ‘s not made to sleep sittin’ up.”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t want to leave. I told him I’d sit with you.” You reach over to press the page button, looking intentionally away from where those bright blue eyes track you, sweet and soft and open, lips slightly parted. “How’s your pain? I’m not on the clock any longer, so I can’t page the neurologist, but they’ll have come and do a few tests.”

“Ye wanted to sit with me, pretty girl?” Your face gets hot, blood pooling beneath your skin, pit of your stomach liquifying into something honeyed and potent that flows through your veins until you swear you can feel the room getting warmer.

“How’s your pain?” you repeat your question, words dumb on your tongue.

“A five.” You raise an eyebrow. “Alright, a seven. And a half.” The days nurse knocks with perfect timing, all hustle and bustle, bright and cheery, and asks Johnny the same questions, keeping up a perfect stream of small talk between you and Johnny until Neuro is standing at the foot of his bed, and you’re excusing yourself.

“Okay, I’m-“

“Dinnae leave.” He protests, voice quiet. Your stomach lurches at the vulnerability there, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“I’m just going to get a tea.” You promise, even though you know he’ll probably be half loopy by the time you’re back, and the dayshift nurse gives you a nod, acknowledgement of his state, an understanding that she’ll be here with him.

Not an hour later, your pocket chimes with a text from the dayshifter as you half sip your tea, letting you know that Johnny’s exam is done, and as you pass her in the hallway, she gives you verbal confirmation of what you were hoping for: his brain function is normal. He’ll have to go for CT later, but she’s just given him another dosage for pain management. You yawn in the middle of her pass-on, and she tells you that she'll keep an eye on him. You can go. 

She's not wrong. 

You need to go to bed. 

You know your presence at your patient's bedside won't be viewed as unprofessional, since others have done it in far less severe situations, but the pendulum your emotions swing on every time you step foot in that room leaves you with a sinking feeling that's starting to crawl across your skin.

You wanted this. You wanted to stay with him. 

Simon asked you stay with him. 

Yeah, but for how long? He cannot expect you to spend all day here. You have to go to bed. Are you just going to leave him all alone? Are you going to wait for Simon to come back? 

The dread spiral is easily answered when you slide open the glass door and lay eyes on the very handsome man from the other night, the younger one from the chair vigil, now sitting beside Johnny, the two of them softly chuckling.

When Johnny spots you, he manages to fire off your name as a half-effort introduction, more than expected considering his slowly slipping state of consciousness.

“I’m Kyle. Soap an’ I work together.” Soap? Who is Soap? 

“She doesnae know me b’ Soap, only calls me Johnny.” He explains your confused look, to which Kyle raises an eyebrow.

“Wow. Letting your nurse call you Johnny, eh? Simon better-“

“Ach, stop.” He rolls his eyes, but sleep tugs his lids downward.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You give Johnny and his monitor a once over, catching yourself on his sweet, sleepy gaze, flushed face and lazy smile, before directing your attention back to Kyle. “I told Simon, I’d sit with him for a bit before he got back, but…”

“I’m here in his place.” Kyle explains, motioning to the chair, and you breathe a small sigh of relief. You will get to go home and get some sleep, after all. 

There’s a woman with a confused look on her face just outside the elevator. She looks exhausted, skin raw under her eyes, clutching a baby who’s maybe a year, or a bit older, in her arms, glancing up and down the hall before she spots you.

Fuck. You’re still wearing your scrubs. 

“Hi.” You smile, and she visibly relaxes, obviously relieved. The baby tucks her face into the woman’s chest like she’s shy, coyly looking at you from corner of her eye. “You look lost.”

“I’m looking for the nurse’s station. My husband was supposed to meet me here but he’s running late and I-“

“It’s all the way down, take the first left, and it will be at the end of that hallway.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much.” She glances at your ID, punctuating her gratitude with your name, and you give her another smile, leaning to extend towards the baby as well.

“So cute.” You tell her, pressing the elevator button with a ding.

“Cute. But she’s a little terror, especially when she’s missing her Da.” She grumbles, and then waves, setting off against the white tile as you laugh to yourself. Pretty much sums kids up. Cute little terrors.

A week passes easily, beds and rooms changing over, room two sixty-eight remaining a constant. Johnny takes his battles on the chin, burn debridement on his side, casting for his wrist, removal of his chest tube, a third surgery. 

“He’s a fighter.” Simon tells you one night in the dark after he’s slipped off to sleep. “Always has been. He's strong. Spirited.”

“I can see.” You agree, holding out the extra blanket you’ve pulled from a cabinet. When Simon takes it, his eyes meet yours, something soft shining in them, and you give him a smile in return. 

“Thank you.” He murmurs. “For everything.”

A few days later, you’re surprised, and secretly pleased, to find Simon in the café.

He’s standing in front of the counter, paying for what you think might a baked good of some kind, sweet lady behind the register eyeing him up suspiciously as he deposits the note into her hand, and you stay on the outside of the doors, lingering in the hallway, watching.

At least he’s eating something. He’s still wearing the mask, and although it’s not uncommon, especially in a hospital setting, it does give you pause. Does he wear it all the time? Is it just because this is a hospital? He observes the room, steadily taking in all of the people meandering about, some eating, some standing, making their selections, engaging in conversation, and you notice how his hand slides to the back of his neck, distractedly rubbing the hair at his nape before he makes his escape, long legs eating up the distance between him and the door, him and… you.

“Hi.” You squeak when he steps into the hall, turning the corner to find you standing there like a deer in headlights, your water bottle clutched in one hand, phone in the other. His head tilts, eyes narrowed, and you manage to give him a half smile. “Getting something to eat?”

“It’s for Johnny.” He notes. “I ah, had something to eat earlier. When I was home.” Oh, good. Being in the hospital twenty-four seven isn’t healthy for anyone. Not even patients. 

“Cool.” Cool? What is this, a pub? You swallow your embarrassing, awkward acknowledgement, breezing past the word like it didn’t happen. “Well, I’m about to badge in, so I’ll see you in a bit?” He nods, eyes still trained on your face, and you beat back the heat that’s spreading through your body like a fever when they drift down to your shoulders, and then to your badge.

“Cute sticker.” He points to where it’s clipped to your top, shiny bunny sticker from a patient’s child still there, holographic print sparkling in the dusk.

“Oh, thanks. Another patient of mine has a little kid. I was hanging out with him for a bit yesterday.”

“Suits you.” His gaze dips downward, glancing over the curve of your hip, plush from the swell of your ass, taut pull of your scrubs all of the sudden feeling too tight, too stretched across your waist, and you scramble to make sense of his comment. 

“A bunny?” Your brows raise in disbelief, confusion, but he only nods, head tilted slightly, posture broad. Your brain turns over, frantically trying to think of a response, something clever, but he continues to talk, clearing his throat with a question.

“What do you call a line of rabbits hopping backwards?” Huh? 

“What?”

“A receding hare-line.” Wait. What? Is he… joking with you? Your mouth drops into a little o of part surprise, part confusion, before you squint at him in disbelief.

“Oh… my god. That’s…”

“’s not that bad.” His eyes crinkle at the corners, giving you the impression that he might be smiling beneath the mask, making you wonder if you’re hallucinating.

“It’s pretty bad.” You croak, nervous laughter bubbling up in the back of your throat. “Well, I… uh-“ His phone dings, pulling his focus to the screen, and he swipes out something quickly with his thumb.

“I’ll see you up there.” He jerks his head towards the elevator, and you mumble out a mild, flabbergasted reply.

“Alright... yeah.”

Your first break comes up fast. Your morning, everyone’s evening, is busy, with a code, a tricky vent, and a needy, elderly man in two fifty-two. It goes from busy to worse, an argument with the pharmacy heating your blood, spurring anger through your veins and you have to physically bite your tongue to keep from berating the poor tech at the window. Useless. You seethe in your mind all the way back up to your floor, frustration driving you to seek solace, eager to escape the eyes of the hospital, running away from the possibility of being noticed.

But supply closet 2b is occupied, a frazzled resident huffing into a pillow in the back, hyperventilating with tear-stained cheeks.

Without even fully realizing, you find yourself inside two sixty-eight, Simon’s sharp eyes falling upon you with scrutiny. He looks at Johnny’s monitor like something might be amiss, relaxed posture straightening into something tense, structured. There’s a card game in progress on the swivel tray table over Johnny’s lap, the glaring reality of your interruption, and you blanche.

You’re immediately incredibly embarrassed. What are you even doing in here? 

“Miss me already?” Johnny coos, beaming, and your throat feels dry. He’s feeling the best he has since he got here, albeit not great, still in awful pain, still staring down the barrel of more surgeries, but the pain medication from earlier is working its way through his system, and you’re happy to see it’s taking the edge off it all for him, allowing him comfort and conversation with his partner.

“My um… usual break spot is occupied?” You don’t know why you phrase it as a question, it just comes naturally. Like you’re seeking permission. Agreement.

“Ye want to sit with us? While ye eat?” Johnny asks, somewhat pointing to your yogurt cup, and you shrug, but Simon motions to the extra chair, the one that now sits on the other side of the bed, across from him. Guess facilities finally brought down that recliner you requested. 

“Would… would that be alright?”

Johnny looks to Simon, and Simon nods. Slowly.

Your yogurt goes down easy, light chit chat bouncing around the room, Johnny nodding in and out with drawn out answers to your questions, until a noise startles you from the chair, pushing you onto your feet to peer out the door.

It’s a man, yelling, screaming, from a room down the hall, not from sadness or despair, but rage, and your mind goes haywire when security is paged over the PA system.

Deep breath. 

This happens sometimes. Patients, or loved ones, become disruptive. Secrets and lies all come out in the wash in a hospital. Custody agreements, battles, DNRs, last wills and testaments, any of these things are a perfect tinder box. One match, and it all goes up.

A siren blares.

“Code black, code black.” echoes through the hospital, each room on every floor, down every hall.

Johnny startles from his near sleep stupor, eyes alert, the outline of his muscles solid beneath his gown.

Security risk. Lockdown. 

You straighten your spine.

Deep breath.

This is your job. 

Part of your job is being able to handle things like this. Protect, take care of your patients, and their families. Keep them safe.

The man shouts again, sharp tone of anger snapping through the air and across your frame, forcing your muscles tense.

You slide the door lock into place, pulling the curtain to only allow a small line of sight.

“What’s going on?” Simon stands, turning towards the door, and Johnny pats his hand, like he’s trying to soothe him.

“Oh, uh. It’s… just a lockdown. I don’t know.” You’re vaguely aware of the numb feeling that’s spreading from your chest down into your hand, and the sound of the irate man gets closer. Fuck. 

“Ye okay?” Johnny’s voice is gentle, and when you glance over your shoulder to reassure them, you realize they’re both watching you, Simon’s eyes locked onto your now trembling fist, as Johnny regards you softly, with kindness.

“Um. Yeah.” You suck in a quick breath, forcing yourself to steady, gritting your teeth against the frozen, involuntary fear that’s trying to overpower you. You think Simon might be frowning beneath the mask, confusion shading his question.

“Why are you standing at the door?”

“It’s standard operating procedure. If there’s an issue, or a disturbance. If you’re in a patient’s room, if I- I’m in a patient’s room, I’m supposed to act like a… barrier. Just in case.” You keep your eyes fixed out the glass, watching for any sights, listening for any sounds. The door is locked, and glass is thick, and security would be here if anything were to happen, they’re already down the hall, everything is fine. Deep breath. Deep breath. Deep-

“Go sit with Johnny.” Simon's standing just behind you, voice pitched low, sweetened into one of those softer hums, the kind of tone he usually uses with Johnny. Not with you. He’s so close, you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body, and you shake your head with a refusal.

“I have to stay-“ He cuts you off, not even letting you choke out the rest of your quivering protest.

“No. Go sit with Johnny.” He pauses, stepping around to angle his body in front of yours, looking down at you over his shoulder, and you think, for a moment, you see a glimmer of the tenderness there that’s reserved for Johnny. “Please.”

“My wrist hurts.” Johnny calls hopefully to you, mischievous smile and eyes sweet, his good hand outstretched with an open palm. “Need ye to rub it.” Simon nods, serious look quashing any rebuttals you might have, protocol and procedure slipping far from your mind as you let yourself drift to Johnny’s side, settling back into your seat previously abandoned. Johnny offers you his wrist, smile fading when he looks closer at your curled fingers. “Ye’re shaking, pretty girl.”

“Low blood sugar.” You lie. The man in the hallway shouts again, closer, loud and awful, roiling with rage, and you inadvertently tense, jolting minutely in the chair.

“Hey now.” Johnny reaches for you, gentle touch against your skin, warm fingers holding onto yours. You look down to where he tries to give you comfort, where he tries to soothe you, instead of the other way around, as it has been, as it should be, and you get lost in it, the idea of comfort, the feeling of care. It makes your heart stumble in your chest, almost like you can’t breathe, staring off into space, trying to pretend like there isn’t a man screaming down the hall, like you’re not the person you are, buried beneath the insurmountable weight of scars, memories of pain and fear etched into the very tissue of your brain, the backs of your eyelids, every strand of hair.

Ingrained inside of you, forever.

Someone says your name, and you blink back to the face of your patient, who looks to Simon, his expression unreadable until it shifts into tender warmth, re-focused on you. “What is it?”

“I-“ You picture yourself, letting your lips go loose, entrusting your secrets and worst fears to these strangers, these men who you don't even know, who don't know you. “I’m exhausted.” You offer, and shadow flickers across Johnny’s eyes. It’s not a lie, not technically. You’re always exhausted.

“Ye-“

“Code black lifted. Code black lifted. Lockdown complete. Resume normal operation.” The PA system drones, tension between your shoulders draining, and you jump to your feet, palms and fingers smoothing over your scrub top.

“Well, I’ve got to check in at the nurses’ station now. Protocol.” You explain, nearly tripping over yourself on the way to the door. Your heart is still raging inside your chest, beating faster than it should, and you steady your breathing with a mental count. One... two... three... one... “I’ll check in on you later.” You promise over your shoulder, slipping by Simon to disappear down the hallway. 

[teamblck]

the 141 as dads

captain john price-

• this man is would be such a good dad

• we all know for a fact this man has a breeding kink so i see him having like 3/4 kids

• waking up early in the morning and eating bowls of cereal watching old cartoon re runs with them

• would start smoking outside or exclusively in his office because he doesn’t want that around them

• type of dad in his retirement to coach his kids football/soccer team

• the best for laying the child on his chest, humming as they fall asleep

• would be super interested in what his children’s interest are (this goes for all of them but i’m putting it here)

• takes his kids on camping and fishings trips

• loves to play hide-n-seek with his kids

• his kids would mock his actions and stand in front of the tv with his hands behind his back, and when they are napping on the couch his kid would also start snoring cause we all know this man snores LOUDLY

• type of dad whenever his kids mention they like eating something once he buys like 5 boxes of it

• would cry they say their first word no matter what is is

• loves taking them to the park

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick-

• okay literally the best dad ever

• i could see him with like 2 or 3 kids

• MATCHING OUTFITS

• if he had girls he would 1000% learn all kind of cute braid styles for them

• when he found out his spouse was pregnant he would be shocked but happy and would immediately buy 100 what to expect when you’re expecting books

• would hate when he kids got into trouble cause he would hate laying the law down but would sit them down and talk every calm but firm

• then would go into another room and be like 🥺

• would NEVER get angry with his kids

• all the mothers would flirt with him in the pickup line at school and he just ignores it

• he thinks his children deserve the entire world

• his kids call Price grandpa

• will blow raspberries on their stomachs until they they can’t stop giggling

• takes 1000 photos of his kids doing anything and then spam sends them to his spouse

• got so nauseous the first time he changed a diaper

• family halloween outfits

john ‘soap’ mactavish-

• such a fun dad

•pillow forts

• ice cream for breakfast

• if he had a son/sons he would cut their hair in the mohawk style as well

• would want so many children omg

• he comes from a big family so i think he would want one as well

• but if his spouse didn’t want a big family he would be okay with it

• if you’ve watched modern family he would be like phil dunphy

• would put his kids on those kid leashes whenever they go anywhere

• i feel like one thing he would struggle with is saying no to his children

• would always help them with their math and science homework

• type of dad to do push ups while his kids are sitting in his back and they are all giggling

• the proudest dad ever! is at every dance recital or sports game or talent show and if he can’t be (because of his job) he would ask all about it when he got home and even if they did poorly he would still tell them how proud of them he is and go her ice cream

•TICKLE FIGHTS

• it would also tear him up if couldn’t be there during a special event for his children

• i also feel like he would cry at major life milestones

• if his children/kid are into sports all you can hear at games is him yelling across the field

simon ‘ghost’ riley-

• GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON

• just imagine him with a pink baby holder strapped to his chest

• he would be such a good father omg

• with his past with his father he would be super scared at first but then as he’s holding this tiny infant he would get angry (not at child obviously) cause how could anyone treat their child the way his father treated him?

• would be super protective of his children (i mean all of them would tbh)

• as cute as it is for the baby to wear little skull head clothing, i don’t think he would want his children knowing ‘Ghost’.

• i think one thing he would struggle with is when his kids throw tantrums when it’s over something ridiculous like he wouldn’t let them pull their siblings hair or eat something gross off the floor and he doesn’t know how to deal with them. he doesn’t want to get to firm and scare them and he doesn’t want to give into such ridiculous things so he would kinda back away and look at you for help

• his kids would 1000% get his accent

• loves to lift them up with his arms, whooshing them around like they are a super hero

• has tea parties with his kids and their stuffed animals on a regular basis

• such a big softie for his children/child are you kidding me

• his children/kid use him as like a jungle gym and are usually hanging off his arms

• would never tell them what he does for work and when they ask he would just say ‘work’

i would give any of these men children or all of them

let me know if you have any feedback!!

[misscinnamonroll16]

Headcanons for brozone

Floyd is a clothing thief. He does not care that this shirt is huge on him, it's his now!

John Dory walks around the bunker in his underwear. When Poppy comes over, she announces as she comes down "hey, I'm here. Puts some pants on!" Viva doesn't do that, she's quiet until she sees JD and yells at him to "put on some God damn pants!"

John can bake. He had a love interest that he went all out for with baked goods but sadly they didn't feel the same.

I've already said Floyd is a decent artist, his favorite medium is either charcoal or paint. It's being able to see how much work has been done by how dirty he is. The bunker gets a fresh coat of paint once Floyd gets in there (and is feeling up to it).

JD leans back in his chair constantly. Like lifts it off the ground leaning back. He's fallen a handful of times in front of the others. It's embarrassing but it's his own fault

John and Bruce can and will hit the others with a wooden spoon when cooking. Clay runs in while one of them is cooking and tries to sneak a taste and gets his hand smacked with a wooden spoon. They got it from their grandma.

I feel like Floyd is the brother that would put ranch on everything

John is definitely the one to announce when he's gotta take a shit. Half bc he knows one of the others has company and it will embarrass them, half bc he has no concept of socially acceptable behavior or bc he's just that comfortable around his brothers

Clay read Harry Potter and is a Slytherin. He made Viva take the test as well (she's a Gryffindor)

Clay's special interests as a child were dinosaurs and math (he's a nerdy kid)

Clay can burp on command and has tried to burp his ABC's

John is a sad drunk. He gets super upset over nothing. "I don't cry easily." "Just last night you were crying over snakes." "They don't have arms, it's sad!"

John has chapped lips bc he keeps biting the skin off. It's from his anxiety

Clay likes doing weird voices and impressions

Floyd used to call his brothers bubby. Not so much now that they're older but every so often one slips out.

Clay is naturally funny. He doesn't have to try or force it, it just happens

John Dory taught Bruce who to flirt. Bruce just got better at it than him.

All of the brothers are sassy as fuck. Sassy and sarcastic.

Floyd likes wearing dresses and skirts sometimes

Floyd stretches like a cat.

Floyd still gets pains in his arms and legs from the V&V incident

Clay can braid hair. He's not as fast or as good as Viva but he can still do it

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Part 4 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10

Bruce - theorizes that his daughter LaBreezy will be the one to take over the restaurant.

Bruce - tries developing and inventing his own recipes, Brandy has to remind him that not everyone can handle as much sugar as a Troll can. He reels it back a bit.

Bruce - makes specific food for different reasons. E.g. makes bread when he's angry so he can take it out on the dough, makes lasagnas so he can use the leftovers as an excuse to visit someone, makes spicy dishes when he wants revenge.

John Dory - has been arrested before, he changes the reason everytime someone asks.

John Dory - occasionally uses 'chewing tobacco' (which honestly in the Trolls-verse would be some kinda chewing gum 😂)

John Dory - serial flirt (very bad at it, he thinks he's great at it)

John Dory - does weird stuff because of his isolation e.g. will eat what's left over on the plates when Bruce's customers leave, will ask when the baby's due but they're just overweight, will go into detail about gutting a fish in front of Trollings.

John Dory - can open a wine/champagne bottle with his machete and light a match with his teeth

Clay - occasionally tutors math to Trollings.

Clay - has a decent sized nest egg

Clay - graduated highschool early

Clay - has business cards stored in his hair

Clay - knows how to tie different knots for neckties.

Clay - can spin a pen around his fingers

Clay - is thinking of getting his own critter transportation

Floyd - was 100% sure he was going to die in the bottle. He now has a new outlook on life after being given a second chance.

Floyd - wants a long term relationship but is afraid of getting attached and being used.

Floyd - practices advanced yoga

Floyd - has developed claustrophobia

Floyd - released one solo album, one limited run, it was mentioned he is a former member Brozone on the cover to boost sales. It was a flop. This crushed Floyd.

Branch - toying with the idea of building plans for a Pop Village Castle. (Secretly a fortress)

Viva - biggest Broppy shipper. Already has their wedding planned in her head.

Viva - adrenaline junkie

Viva - no sense of personal space

Tiny Diamond - checks on Branch and Poppy's egg daily asking if his new BFFL is here yet.

Pop Trolls - King Peppy invented all these bizarre holidays when they were trapped in the Troll tree to keep hope alive and to boost morale.

Putt-Putt Trolls - all delayed having Trollings worrying for their future safety. The very few eggs that hatched are hidden and protected by the whole tribe. (Putt-Putt baby names: Birdie, Par, Ace, Caddie, Fore, Eagle, Divot, Links, Scramble) Clay and Viva were present for every one of them hatching.

Rhonda - locks JD outside when she's annoyed with him. "Who needs you, I wanted to sleep on this rock anyway!"

[emissarypersonalshh]

WE NEED TO DISCUSS HOW SUBMISSIVE BIG JACK HORNER IS

you'll all call me crazy but LISTEN.

first of all HIS POSES. he just JUMPS like a submissive little man cmon now. AND dont forget the picture of him crossing his legs like a little girl PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE HES CANONICALLY A FLEXIBLE MAN + HIS LEGS his legs are 90% slimmer than the rest of his body you do the math

and hes so SASSY he's not blatantly mean (sometimes) he just has this very fiery sass that very suspiciously resembles a bratty sub hmm 🤨

ALSO HIS FACE DID YOU NOT NOTICE HOW FAST HIS FACE GETS RED. i know DAMN WELL he gets easily flustered 😝 he definitely acts all high and mighty until you start flirting with him + subtly touching him (he notices and thinks you don't, keep teasing him he secretly likes it 😉)

his voice. i think its just that john mulaney sounds inherently submissive and whiny but COME ONN JUST LISTEN TO HIM HE OBVIOUSLY WHIMPERS AND WHINES.

and he calls himself a good boy. connect the dots

i think im gonna stop there before i get graphic

[caitlyn-winchester]

TLC

Summary: The reader always takes care of her friends and asks for nothing in return. Her friends often take advantage of this without even knowing. As the reader’s list of priories grow, she forgets to take care of herself. Everyone has a breaking point. Pent up emotions poor out and its up to the Pogues to help give the reader some tender love, and care.

platonic!Pogues x fem!reader 

word count: 4K+

Tw: mental health issues, mentions of alcohol, cursing, nudity that's pretty much it. the rest is an overwhelming amount of fluff but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: While this is a self-insert fic, this is a very self-indulgent fic and some details are personal to me. I wish I had some good friends like the Pogues. Also sorry I didn’t include Pope a lot into this. I don't really know how to write him.

A/N#2: Feedback is welcomed. Likes and re-blogs always appreciated. :)

To say you were mentally stretched thinned was an understatement. It has been a long day for you. First you went over to Pope’s house to help him prepare for a math competition he has this weekend. Your phone kept blowing up at Pope’s with texts from John B and Sarah, claiming they got into a fight and were in a dire need of a mediator. Once Pope felt secure enough with the amount of studying he did, you went over to the Chateau to help John B and Sarah. Their fight was petty really, some girl commented heart eyes on John B’s insta post. John B didn’t interact with the girl at all but it still upset Sarah that someone would flirt with her boyfriend. Once you were able to simmer down that situation, you went home in hopes of taking a nap. The past couple of days you didn't get any sleep because of your dad drunkenly blasting music and singing along to it. You tried everything to block out the music, putting blankets by your door to muffle the sound or putting in your own headphones to listen to ASMR. No matter what you did, you could still hear the rock music, ultimately depriving you of sleep. You didn’t want to tell your friends though. You usually weren't one to express any troubles in your life. You didn’t want to burden anyone.

Once you got back home from John B’s, you immediately got an SOS from JJ, needing help with his dad. You couldn't say no to that, especially with JJ needing someone with a vulnerable topic. You slammed your car door, quickly driving to JJ’s. You found him sitting on his front step with a bloody lip and bruises already forming on his body. Lucky for Luke, his truck was gone when you got there. You cleaned JJ’s injures, let him rant and offered to give him a ride to John B’s place. On your way, you got a call from Kiara, crying after she got into another verbal fight with her mom. She begged you to come over and you complied.

That’s where you are currently. Sitting in Kiara’s room, listening to her rant. You normally would give her your full attention, but you were physically and mentally tired.

“Y/N.” Kiara snapped her fingers in front of your face.

“Huh.” you said snapping out of your thoughts.

“Are you even listening to me?” She asks in disbelief, like you wasted her time.

“Yea...no” You trailed off, “Sorry.”

“Really Y/N? Why would you come over if you wouldn't even pay attention to what I have to say. I need you.” She emphasizes.

“I said sorry, I have a lot on my mind right now.” You tried to reason with her.

“Like what?” she scoffed. “Seriously? Your life isn't that bad. You don't face many problems so would it kill you to help me for once and-”

That’s all I do is help!” You snapped. “You guys always ask for my help! I don't mind but I’m tired ok. I’m only one person! I don't have a magic wand that can fucking fix everything. First Pope wanted help with math and he wouldn't let me leave until he got every single fucking math problem right. Then Sarah got mad at John B because some girl commented heart eyes on his insta post. Fucking. Heart. Eyes. You would think John B shot her dog or something. Then JJ needed help with his dad and you needed help with your mom. I barely had a second to breath for myself.” You ranted. “Im so fucking tired, I haven't slept well in days. My dad fucking day drinks then comes home blast fucking rock music all night long. I swear if I have to hear ‘Mad World’ one more goddamn time I’m going to lose it.” You didn’t even realize you started crying until Kiara had you in her arms. You cracked. You facade of ‘everything is fine’ diminished in seconds.

“It’s okay.” Kiara tried to comfort you. When you ranted, she finally saw you. She is shooting herself for not noticing it before. You looked sick with tired eyes and pail skin. It was obviously to her you were not taking care yourself.

You shook your head, releasing yourself from her hold. “N-no, It’s ok. I should get going.” You sniffled.

“Y/N” Kiara tried to grab your wrist but it was too late, you left. You got in your car despite Kiara’s calls of protest. You needed to get out of there. You drove all the way home, composing yourself. When you open your car door, you heard it. Music. Not again, you thought. You wanted to cry all over again. You knew you couldn't stand another night of this so you pulled out your phone.

You: Hey, sorry to bother you so late. Can I stay the night?

John Booger🏄🏻‍♂️: You can never bother me, Y/N/N. Everything ok?

You: Yes. Can I stay over or not?

John Booger🏄🏻‍♂️: Of course. There is always room for you here.

You found John B’s messages unusually too sweet but you were too tired to care. You entered your house, not caring if you were quite or not. Your dad never hears you over the blaring music anyway. That and the fact you swear he is daydreaming, pretending he is actually at the concert. You quickly packed an over night bag of essentials; pajamas, your stuffed bunny, phone charger, a book and hygiene products. You went back out to your car climbing in, starting it and heading toward the Chateau.

When you got there, you slung your bag over shoulder and headed toward the front door. Before you can make it to the front steps, John B exited his house, saying a quick hello and bringing you into a hug.

“Uh. Hello to you too?” You said confused.

He gave you a mischievous look, taking your bag. “I’ll take this so you don't drop it.” He gave out a bird call to signal something...or someone.

“What is going on? why would I drop-” Before you could finished the sentence, JJ rounded the corner of the Chateau.

“Woogity! Woogity!” He yelled, charging at you then throwing you over his shoulder.

“What the hell?! JJ put me down!” You demanded.

“As you wish.” He said but by then, you were already at Twinkie. He placed you on the back bench, accidentally hitting you head on the window.

“Ow.” you groaned. You faintly heard the van slide shut and the engine roar to life.

“JJ, don't damage the precious cargo.” Sarah said from driver seat. John B got into the passenger seat with your bag in tow. JJ mumbled a ‘sorry.’

“Ok. What is going on?” You started to freak out.

“Operation TLC.” JJ said proudly.

“Huh?” This is making no sense to you.

“JJ.” John B bites. “Shush, its a surprise.”

“Oh.” the blonde boy shrugged.

“Where are we going? Why are you guys kidnapping me?” you pressed, wondering what is happening.

“We are your friends so its not kidnapping, Y/N/N.” John B reasons.

“Thats not how it goes John B. Most kidnappings are done by someone the victim knows.” you told the brunette surfer. “You took my stuff, you forced me into the car and now you are driving me somewhere against my will.”

“Ok maybe it is kidnapping.” Sarah spoke up, “But its with love.”

“Yea Y/N. Just go with it.” JJ said pulling you into a hug.

“JJ get off me!” You tried to push him away.

“Nope.” he said popping the ‘p’, clinging to you some more.

“So one on is going to tell me what's going on?” You asked and the three shook your head. You rolled your eyes, looking out the window. You noticed the direction you were heading. “Are we going to Kie’s?” The only response you got was a shrug. You sighed. You still have JJ clinging onto you, with his chin on your shoulder. You hate to admit it felt nice to be given a hug. Normally you were the one initiating the hug, not receiving it. You made sure no one was looking before you wrapped your own arms around JJ’s waist reciprocating the hug. They saw it though and they smiled to themselves. Your stubbornness was starting to subside slightly.

Sarah finally pulled you into the driveway of their destination. JJ offered you a hand and helped you out of Twinkie. You realized your instincts were correct. They brought you to Kiara’s house, which means she probably told them about your outburst. You started to become self-conscious, feeling weak that your friends now know you didn't ask for help while you were struggling. Everything is starting to make sense now, even though you don’t know their full plan.

“Guys, can we just go back. I’m really tired and I want to sleep.” you stressed. “I don't feel like hanging out tonight.”

“Just trust us, please?” Sarah asked. You sighed and nodded your head after a moment. Whatever they have planned they seem to be excited about it. You don't want to let them down. The three guided you into the house and up the stairs to Kiara’s room. As you grew closer to Kiara’s room, you became anxious, unsure what is about to happen. John B must of noticed your uneasiness because he gave your shoulders a comforting squeeze. Kiara’s door was wide open. When you peered inside and saw her sitting on her bed, bouncing her leg anxiously. Her head snapped up when she heard the Pogues footsteps and her eyes immediately landed on you.

“Thank god.” she breathed out relieved, you guess whatever plan she had was going well so far. “Y/N, I am so sorry about earlier.” She held onto both your hands, gently rubbing her thumbs over them. The rest of the Pogues dispersed throughout the room, starting to set things up. Sarah took your bag from John B and started to lay out stuff from your overnight bag. Then she disappeared into the bathroom. JJ and John B were setting up pillows and blankets on the floor.

“Its okay, Kie.” you tried to reassure her, “Sorry about my outburst earlier.”

“First off, you don't have to apologize for that Y/N/N. And second, it’s not okay,” She shook her head. “We have been some awful friends lately.”

“No you guys haven't.” You protested.

“Yea, we kinda have.” John B commented rubbing the back of his neck, standing next to Kiara.

“But-” you tried to object again but you were cut off by JJ.

“Don't try to justify it, Y/N/N. You take such good care of us and always put us first. We took advantage of that and have been shitty friends.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said, walking back from the bathroom connected to Kiara’s room. “Which is why tonight we are going to take care of you. We are going to pamper you and give you whatever you need. You want it, we will get it.” Sarah wrapped her arms around your shoulder, leading you over to the bathroom. She opened the door, which revealed the bathroom with a spa like ambiance. “I already drew you a bubble bath, with lavender. I know it's your favorite. But first I think we should wash your face and put a face mask on you. How does that sound?” Sarah asked you, giving you a loving smiled.

You bursted out crying, becoming overwhelmed by all the attention you have been giving in the past couple of minutes. You were not use to receiving all this kindness, especially from multiple people at once. You weren't one to ask for attention, preferring to just stay drifting by. Your friend’s problems have always been more prominent, making yours get put on the back-burner. This is why you have always took care of yourself instead. Sure, you have always dreamed of someone else taking care of you, just once. You thought you didn’t deserve though.

“I don't deserve this.” you sobbed out, burying your face in your hands. This was so embarrassing and it’s the second you have broke down in front of your friends today. Your friend’s faces fell at your self-deprivation.

“Oh, honey.” Sarah pulled your arms down so you were forced to look at her, holding your hands. “Listen to me. You do deserve this.” But you shook your head, disagreeing. “Yes, you do.” Sarah pressed further. “You deserve to get taken care of too.”

“Sorry, I’m just not use to this.” You sniffled and hugged yourself, almost like you were trying to guard yourself. You felt a hand on the top of your head, starting to smooth it over slowly. The repetitive motion helped you calm down.

“Well, get use to it,” John B stated. “This will be happening more often.”

“Why?” you asked.

“Because we love you, doofus.” JJ commented.

“Exactly.” Kiara quipped. “We don't show how much we actually appreciate you and it’s time we do.” you nodded your head. You guess you could give this a shot, maybe it’ll be nice.

“Now, let’s get you in that bath before the water gets cold.” Sarah started to guide you to the bathroom.

“Wait.” Kiara caught your wrist. “Are you hungry? We could send the boys to pick something up. When was the last time you ate something?”

“I-” You had to think for a minute. When was the last time you ate something?you pondered, the only think you could think of was a granola bar.

“Ok well if you have to think about it then it must of been a while ago.” Kiara stated. “What would you like?”

“Oh, I don't care.” You shrugged.

“Uh Uh, remember this is your night. We will pick up whatever you want.” JJ said.

“Um.. McDonalds.” You said after a moment. “My usual I guess.”

“One 10 piece chicken nugget meal coming right up.” John B grabbed his keys, JJ following him out the door.

“And get me some pizza!” Sarah yelled at her boyfriend.

“Oh we can just get pizza if that is easier-” Sarah cut you off by putting a finger to your lips.

“Nope. You want McDonalds. You’re getting McDonalds. Capisce?” She demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.” You replied, obviously they weren't budging.

Sarah lead you into the bathroom, while Kiara went down stairs. She waited outside for you to undress and put on a fluffy white robe she had layed out for you. Once you were done, you let her back in and she instructed you to wash your face, handing you your face wash.

“Sit here sweetie.” She pulled out a stool for you to sit on. She reached the for the vanity to grab the face mask and applicator. “Ok now close your eyes and I’ll apply this for you.” She instructed and you complied. She started to apply the face mask, starting at your forehead, then moving to your cheeks. She was so gentle with her brush strokes, it was almost feather-like. You think she is purposely going slow, so you could savor the moment. It did feel really nice. “Feel good?” She asked when she noticed a small smile on your face.

“Yea..” you hummed.

“This is a clay face mask, but its not too drying. Your face will feel really smooth after.” She told you. She continued to carefully apply the product, going for your T-zone now. “You have the cutest nose.” She complimented as she wiped the mask down your nose. You blushed at her comment and muttered a small ‘thanks.’ You heard the cap of the tub being placed back on and a faint clink as the tub hit the counter. You opened up your eyes. “Ok, that's done. Now you can just lay in the tub and soak for as long as you want. Don’t worry about us out there, take some time for yourself. I’ll be in shortly with you pajamas. When your done with your bath you can wash off you mask with a warm rag and moisturize. Also, don't worry about cleaning up the tub. I’ll take care of that.”

Once she knew you were all set, she left the bathroom allowing you to disrobe and enter the tub. The warm water felt nice on your sore muscles. You never noticed how bad they were from running around everyday until now. The longer you soaked, the more you felt the stress leave your body. It’s like you just got shot up with dopamine as you started to smile and giggle to yourself. You took some deep breaths to really get the full affect of the lavender. After some time, you heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.” You called out. You know it had to be one of the girls, seeing as you were naked. The bubbles covered your body pretty well, so they wouldn't see anything. The door opened to reveal Kiara, holding a bowl of fruit. Sarah shortly followed, with your pajamas. She placed them on the counter and left, shutting the door behind her. Kiara stayed in the bathroom. She grabbed a bath tray from her bathroom closet. She placed the tray in front of you, placing the bowl of fruit down. She kneeled down beside the tube, smiling at you.

“Someone is looking better.” She commented. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m on a cloud.” you joked all loopy.

“Wow. That relaxed huh?” She laughed. “I’ll have to ask Sarah to draw me a bath one day.”

“She is really good at it.” You drew out the ‘really’, giggling. “I think she put some drugs in here. I feel high.”

“Nah, I think that feeling is you finally letting go of all that stress. Your brain is feeling happy, instead of playing tricks on you and making you sad.” She explained. “You deserve to be happy, so please come to use next time when you need us. Pogues take care of Pogues.”

“I know. Thanks for this.”

“Anything for you, beautiful.” She brushed some hair out of your face. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yea, me too. You know how ASMR makes your brain all tingly.” You explained and Kiara nodded. “Well that's how I feel, but in real life. Especially when Sarah was applying the face mask. I felt all tingly and nice. I don't know how to explain it.”

“I think you explained it pretty well. Thats how I feel when you take care of me. Now you know how it feels and I think everyone else would agree when I say, now we know how you feel when you take care of us. There is a sense of pride knowing you helped someone feel better. That, and it’s nice to show people love. Good karma.” Kiara explained. “Now, I brought in some fruit for you to snack on. I know normally if you just each fast food, your stomach will start to hurt and we don't want that. Holler if you need anything.” She ran a hand over your head, and left you alone to relax again.

You sat back again, savoring the feeling of the warm water on your skin. I could get use to this, you thought as you smiled you yourself. You munched on some fresh fruit now and then. Your stomach grumbled, you never realize how hungry you actually were. You reluctantly got out of the tub after you felt the water starting to cool and you were all pruney. You went over to the counter and saw that Sarah arranged items in order so you wouldn't forget a step. You took a rag and some warm water and gently began to remove the face mask. After, you popped on some of your moisturizer. Sarah was right, your skin felt very smooth. Next you applied some lavender body lotion that Sarah must of placed on the counter for you. It smelled just as nice as the bath. Finally, you slipped on your pajamas on. You looked in the mirror and smiled at yourself. You definitely looked and felt better than you did 45 minutes ago. You exited the bathroom.

“No, JJ. You cannot go check on Y/N. She is naked.” Kiara stressed at the blonde boy.

“JJ are you trying to see me naked?” you jokingly asked JJ. Your four friend’s head shot up at your voice.

“I mean, I’m sure it's a beautiful view.” JJ flirted, walking over to you and slinging an arm around your shoulder. He lead you over to Kiara bed, sitting you down. “Here.” he put a tray in you lap that head you McDonalds order. “Eat up.” he patted your head.

“Thanks guys.” You smiled at JJ and John B. You started to dig into your meal then you felt the bed dip behind you.

“Lets fix this rat’s nest.” You heard Kiara’s voice from behind you. She gathered your hair in her hands.

“Its not a rat’s nest.” You mumbled.

“Uh, I don't know. I think I could put a bird in your hair and it’ll think its a home.” John B teased. You rolled your eyes and flipped in off.

“Oh and by the way.” John B started. “Pope says thank you for helping him with his competition. He texted me and said his team won the first round.”

“Tell him I said congrats and It’s not problem.” You smiled, happy the hard work payed off.

“Yea he is bummed he missed out tonight, but this competition helps him with his scholarship.”

“I understand.” you replied.

Kiara started to brush your hair while you ate. She started at the ends of your hair and worked her way up to your scalp. She used a technique similar to Sarah. Gentle, soft strokes in order to not pull your hair. This felt even nicer than having a face mask applied. You were a sucker for someone playing with your hair. The repetitive brushing started to relax you again. You must of closed your eyes at one point because you felt JJ start to snicker.

“I think she likes that.” JJ laughed. You open your eyes and saw JJ taking a snap video of you.

“Really JJ?” you asked, rolling your eyes. “Why are you videoing me?”

“You looked so blissed out and cute, I want to remember this.” He grinned and John B laughed as we watched the video. You sighed and started to munch on your fries. Suddenly aware of how everyone was watching you, the self-consciousness slowly creeping back in.

“Ignore them.” Kiara whispered. She had seemed to have ditched the brush and is now just running her fingers through your hair. “Just relax and eat your food.” And you did. You finished your whole meal while Kiara played with your hair and the Pogues conversed in a causal conversation. JJ took they tray from you once he noticed it was empty. Kiara ended playing with your hair by putting it in a loose braid.

“Alright how about a movie?” Sarah suggested, clasping her hands together.

“Sounds good.” You yawned. “But I might fall asleep.”

“Thats quite alright.” John B said, as he slid some fluffy socks on your feet. “Sorry, they looked cold.” He said sheepishly when you gave him an odd look.

“Its okay.” you reassured. Kiara started to set up the TV, while the rest of the Pogues helped you settle into bed. Sarah fluffed your pillow and tucked the blanket around you, like someone would do for a child. You weren't surprised at this. Sarah was definitely a momma bear out of the friend group. Once she was satisfied you were comfortable, she leaned down and gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“Night Y/N.” She gave a loving smile.

“Can’t forget Fluffy.” JJ said placing the stuffed bunny if your arms. You blushed and accepted your childhood plushie. He also gave your forehead a kiss. “Night.”

“Goodnight Y/N/N.” John B said and rubbed your temple quickly before he went and joined Sarah and JJ on the floor. Kiara laid down next to you with the remote in your hand.

“What do you wanna watch?” She asked you.

“Uh. doesn't really matter to me but something Disney? I’ll probably fall asleep soon.”

“Ok.” she smiled and played a random Disney movie. You tried to pay attention but they week’s events finally caught up to you. You felt Kiara start to rub your back softly, which didn’t help your sleepiness. You didn’t last 30 minutes into the movie until your eyelids were permanently closed, not having the strength to keep them open. You were floating in the space between wake and sleep when you hear Kiara’s voice.

“I still feel so bad. I should of noticed earlier.” She whispered to her other friends. She must of thought you were fully asleep.

“Kie, we all should have. This isn't all on you.” John B reasoned.

“I guess, but I yelled at her instead of asking what was wrong. I should of asked.” She replied.

“You didn’t know, and when you did realize you instantly made a plan to make her feel better.” JJ told Kiara.

“Yea Kie. now that I realize it, this is the happiest I’ve seen her in a while. All because of you. Don’t make us do a TLC night on you now.” Sarah lightened the mood. “Can we do this more often though? I like taking care of her and I think she likes it too.” She said, taken in your peaceful face squished into the pillow and your stuffed animal.

“Yea me too.” JJ spoke up, “Since she always takes care of all of us, I guess we  never needed to take care of each other to the extent she does. We never realized how much work goes into it and I kinda like it, you get what I’m saying?” He asks his friends.

“Yea I get what you mean. It’s like we always check in on each other but we never had to physically show each other affection. Y/N usually fills in that void for us. Now it’s time we fill in that void for her.” John B insisted.

“I think she still, like.. needs to get use to it though. So I say we keep doing this until she is comfortable enough to ask for help herself.” JJ watched the slow rise and fall of your chest.

“I agree. I think we should make this a weekly thing.” John B suggested. “But once a week might be too overwhelming for her. So how about we focus on caring for each other instead of one person. Unless it’s like tonight were someone needs to get taken care of, you know.”

“I like that idea.” Kiara agreed. “You know I follow this mental health page on instagram and one time I saw a post that said the person that seems the most loving, needs the love the most. Like they never receive it, so they give it. Never noticed how true that was until tonight.” Kiara started to caress your temple. The rest of the Pogues muttered out agreements before deciding to go to bed themselves. 

That night, you fell asleep the most content you have been in a while. JJ was right, you definitely were not use to this amount of undivided attention, but you definitely get use to this new weekly ‘TLC’ night.

****

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Beauty is in the Eye of the Bow-holder

2018 31 Days of Ficmas, day 14 - bows

@doctorroseprompts

31 Days of Ficmas masterlist

Summary: A random customer on a cold day makes a big purchase for his daughter - and they both gain so much more than the sought-after hairbows.

Rated T for language and some innuendo

AO3

---

The tinkling of the bell in concert with a gust of frigid air made Rose look up from her spot behind the counter.  A man hurried in, and oh, he’s fit had scarcely crossed her mind when she saw he was accompanied by a small girl; any remaining hope died as she squealed, “Daddy, daddy, look!”

Figures.  How come I only meet cute blokes when they’re almost always married with kids?  Nature of the beast, I suppose, but still.

She dragged him by the hand towards the back wall of the shop, where the assorted hair accessories were displayed.  “Look how pretty!” she enthused, going straight to the set of hair bows.  About seven, with dark hair and eyes, she was the target demographic for those bows; Rose must have sold at least a dozen that week alone to similarly aged girls.

“Very nice,” the father agreed mildly, adjusting his own bowtie.  “A deal’s a deal.  Which one do you want?”

Seeing that they weren’t just there to look, Rose came out from behind the counter.  “Welcome to Bows Galore & More!  I’m Rose.  How can I help you?”

“Hello,” the man responded perfunctorily, then did a double take.  “Hello.”

“Hello,” Rose smiled back, letting her tongue catch between her teeth; she didn’t go for married men, but certainly wasn’t above a bit of flirting – it usually resulted in an extra sale, and was always fun.  When he didn’t say anything else she raised her eyebrows; a glance down at the girl showed her preoccupied with the selection.  “Can I help you?”

He came back to life, adjusting his bow tie and coughing.  “Yes!  Hi.  Hello.  How are you?  Ow.”  He looked down at his daughter.  “Did you just kick me?”

Wise beyond her years, the girl shook her head.  “I’m Susan, this is Daddy.  John.  He gets weird when he talks to pretty girls.  Can you focus, please?”

Rose and the man- John- both turned red.

“Yes, my love, of course,” he recovered first.  “Erm, tomorrow’s picture day, and we’ve got to have one of these for it.  She’s been talking about them since term started.”

“They’re so pretty, and all the popular girls have one.  I had to get top marks on my maths test to have one, and I did!”

Rose crouched down to be more at eye level with Susan and the bows.  “Congratulations!  I always struggled with Maths, so sounds like you well earned it.”

Susan nodded fiercely.  “I worked soooo hard.  Now I get to have my bow, so I can be beautiful!”

“Hey, hey, you are beautiful, just the way you are,” her father chided, squatting as well.  “Can you say that for me?”

“I’m beautiful just the way I am,” she repeated dutifully.  “But see how much beautifuller I am with one of these!”  And she jammed on a headband full of bejeweled bows; it ended up at a funny angle, but it didn’t seem to bother her as she inspected herself in the mirror.  “So more beautifuller.”

Both adults straightened up, him groaning before giving her a wry smile.  “It’s a work in progress.”

Rose just laughed, shaking her head.  “Blimey, wish I had her confidence- now, let alone at her age!”

“Why?  You’re gorgeous.”

They stared at each other, Rose almost taken aback at how matter-of-factly he’d said it.

“I’m sorry, that was completely inappropriate.  True, but still… Susan, have you decided yet?”  He rubbed at the back of his neck, cheeks pink, and it was a damn shame he was almost certainly married; Rose wanted to see how far the flush went.

Get yourself together.  Kneeling on the floor for better balance, she bit back a laugh; Susan had continued her sampling, but rather than take one off and try a new one, she’d continued to stick the bows in her hair, nearly covering her head.  “Well, they all look great, but maybe you should try to match your outfit?  What color shirt are you wearing for picture day?”

“Pink!” was the unsurprising reply; besides being what Rose sold the most of, nearly all of the bows Susan wore were some shade of it.  “It’s my favorite.”

“Mine too!  What shade is your shirt?”

Susan gave her a blank look.

Badly disguising his laughter as a cough, the man- John- pointed to a blush shade.  “Like that?”

“No, Daddy,” she shook her head, bows wobbling precariously.

“Oh, okay.  More like that?”  Rather than move more into the pinks he went the other way, pointing to a peach color.

Susan heaved a sigh that seemed too big for her little body, making a face at Rose.  “He thinks he’s funny.”

“Oi!  Am too funny.”

“Funny looking.”

Rose couldn’t help but giggle, both at the deadpan delivery and his offended expression.

“Seven going on seventeen,” he muttered.  “God help me.  Now, quit mouthing off if you want your prize and pick something out; we’re late for Mummy.”

Why are the good ones always happily married?

“I have to look pretty for Mummy,” Susan said firmly, trying on a few different ones.  “But she’s not gonna even know.”  A fuchsia-colored headband seemed to be the winner as she tried it on a third time, meeting Rose’s eye in the mirror.  “Mummy’s an angel.  She died ‘cause I was born.”

“When,” her father spoke sharply, kneeling and turning her to face him.  “Mummy died when you were born, not because you were born.  And now she’s your guardian angel.  Okay?”

She nodded.

“Say it, please.”

“Mummy died when I was born.  Don’t see how that’s different, though.”  She looked up at Rose.  “What’s this one called?”

“Fuchsia.”

The little girl beamed.  “That was Mummy’s favorite, right?”

Looking like he wanted to continue the when/because conversation, he nonetheless let it go.  “It was.  You look very pretty.  Is this the one?”

“It’s the color,” she corrected.  “Now I gotta pick the- what’s it called?”

“Style?”

“That’s it!”

-

Twenty minutes later Rose finally checked them out; one of each style, all fuchsia.  The girl was a proper chatterbox, and Rose now knew everything about her, from favorite food (fish sticks and custard), subjects in school (maths and science) to friends in school, though she got the sense the last list was embellished.

Pulling out his wallet as he watched his daughter explore the rhinestone tiaras, he cleared his throat.  “Uh, sorry.  We’re still working on what’s appropriate to tell complete strangers.”

“She’s precious,” Rose said sincerely.  “I loved chatting with her.  And, erm, sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks.  It’s not easy, but… she’s worth it.  And it’s been years, now.”

Rose shook her head.  “Doesn’t really matter.  I was a baby when my dad died – not a day goes by I don’t think about him.”  She grimaced.  “Sorry, that was probably the opposite of helpful.”

“Eh,” he shrugged.  “It’s hard to miss someone you never knew.  Just have other peoples’ memories to lean on.”

They watched together as Susan held a pair of earrings up to her ear, and he gave a full body shudder.  “God, she’s going to be a teenager any second, and I am not ready.”

Laughing, Rose said, “She might already be; but she’ll be fine, and you’ll get through it, reasonably in one piece.”

He smiled, and her treacherous heart thumped.  Just ‘cause he’s a widow doesn’t mean he’s available.  “Right, munchkin, time to go,” he announced, gathering the gift bag with their purchases.  “Thank you for your help, Rose.”

“Thanks, Rose!”

Thump thump thump.  “Thanks for coming in.  If you’re ever passing by, stop in and let me know how picture day goes!”

She waved goodbye as they left, Susan contorting herself around to wave until they were out of sight.

“Cute kid.”  Rose sighed.  “Hot dad.”

-

Chewing his pizza, John watched his daughter.  She was picking at her food more than eating it, and he wondered yet again whether their ritual of Tuesday pizza graveside was healthy for her.  River would know.  “You know, munchkin, you can always talk to me.  About anything you’re thinking, or feeling.  Any questions.  I’m always here for you.”

Her lower lip caught between her teeth, Susan lowed her slice back to the plate, toying with her napkin.  “I do have a question.”

“Shoot.”

She looked up.  “D’you think if you and Rose got married I could get free hairbows?”

The fuck?  “Wha- the girl from the bow store?”

“Uh huh.”  Her dark ponytail bobbed.  “She was pretty, and she liked you.  You liked her too.  You’d have pretty babies.”

John pinched himself, certain he’d fallen down a rabbit hole.  “You think the pretty girl from the store and I should get married and have babies?  So that you can get free hairbows?”  His voice got progressively higher pitched, and by the time he was done, she was giggling.

Jaw hanging, he didn’t know where to start, spluttering for a long moment (to further laugher), before managing, “What makes you think either of us would like that?”

“She’s pretty, and nice, and she kept looking at your bum and smiling.  I bet she’d kiss you if you asked nicely.”

Forget seventeen, I’ve got a matchmaking grandmother over here!  He looked at the headstone next to him.  “What do you think?  Do you hear what your daughter is saying?"

“You always say Mummy would want us to be happy,” Susan pointed out logically.  “That we should remember her and honor her, but we have to keep moving with our lives.  Don’t you want to be happy, Daddy?”

That was a path he wanted no part of, so he circled back.  “Okay, let’s say she did like me.  What makes you think I like her?”

A smile so like River’s it made his breath catch stole over Susan’s face; like he’d stumbled into her trap and she held the upper hand.  “’Cause if you didn’t, you’d’a just said not happening and changed the subject.  Tha’s what you usually do.  You liiiike her.  You wanna kisss her,” she taunted.  “Can I be the flower girl?”

With no good retort, and blown away at the conversation, all he could manage was, “Eat your pizza, Susan.”

Her little smirk said she wasn’t fooled, but she took an oversized bit all the same.

-

It would be a lie to say she’d forgotten the little family, but it took her a week to stop looking up with hope every time the bell chimed, only to be disappointed it wasn’t them.

Oh, come on, Rose groaned, when the bell tinkled.  Five more minutes and I can go home to a bottle of wine.

“One second,” she called, straightening up her paperwork before stepping back out onto the shop floor.  “How can I- Susan!  Hi!”

The pair were standing in front of the register, Susan in a dress, while John tugged at his bowtie.

“See?” the little girl said smugly to her father, making him sigh and shake his head.

“Proves nothing.”

“Don’t be a coward.”

Rose snorted, though their conversation went past her.  “Don’t you both look nice and dressed up.  Going out?  How did picture day go?”

Susan looked up at him with an expectant expression, and it was amusing to watch the contortions his face went through.

“If you don’t like this idea, blame Susan,” he started off.  “We- ow, stop kicking me!”  Susan won the exchange of glares, so he cleared his throat and started again.  “I was wondering if you might be interested in hearing about it over dinner.  With us.  Both of us.  We’re kind of- well not kind of, we are- a package deal.”

Two anxious faces looked at Rose, and she took a moment to compose her thoughts, though a smile was threatening to overtake her face.  “Is this a date?”

He said no while Susan said yes, and the withering look coming from the seven-year-old could’ve made a grown man cry.

Rose raised an eyebrow, enjoying the show.  I would definitely like to spend more time with this family.  “Which is it?”

“It can be a date, if that’s what you want,” John said, swallowing nervously.  “Or a friendship thing.”

“What do you want?” she asked gently, watching his face.

“Date!” chirped Susan, earning her an exasperated look from her father.

“Don’t you wanna go see if there’s new bows or something?”

She shook her head.  “Uh uh.  It took me weeeeeks to get you in here!  Hurry uuuuup!  Mooo!  Moooooooo!”

“Moo?”

John rolled his eyes fondly at that.  “Coward – cow – moo.  Coward was the word of the day, and it’s unfortunately her new favorite.  Especially after a trip to Scotland over the summer.”

Rose smiled, tongue catching between her teeth, watching his Adam’s apple bob again.  “I like steak.”

“How’s Italian?  Daddy promised me stuffed shells,” Susan asked, oblivious, but John’s eyes went dark as he caught her meaning.

“Yeah?”

“Susan?  Does Daddy make breakfast?”

“Uh huh!  His waffles are the best.”

Rose and John exchanged a steamy look, and she licked her lips, eyes lingering over him.  “Give me ten minutes to close up.  Italian sounds great.”

“Yay!”

-

Eighteen months later, Susan was allowed to pick out two bows to go with her flower girl dress.

[nimuetheseawitch]

🔥🔥🔥🔥 for whichever ones you want!

🔥First, Noir!Rodney (SGA)

I love this fic so much. Even when I'm not writing, I'm haunted by thoughts of Rodney as a noir anti-hero, drinking whiskey while it rains and thinking he doesn't need anyone while simultaneously not realizing he is surrounding himself with found family. Also, noir!John flirting with him/just smoking cigarettes in his general vicinity.

🔥Second, Hoping that you’re happy now (MASH)

I researched some really random stuff for this fic, including train schedules in the 1950s and a snowstorm in Chicago in 1953. I looked up a historical snowstorm. This is the most random research I've ever done for a fic, and I just wanted to share.

🔥Hangster hate sex (TGM)

For a fic that is mostly going to be smut, I have done a ridiculous amount of research into the Navy. Writing this (and getting into TGM in general) has made me realize how almost everything I know about the US military comes from MASH (Army), Stargate (Air Force), and Top Gun (Navy) because I just always need to know things about how it all works. I now know way too much about how promotions work and the UCMJ and flight school and test pilot school. All in the name of more accurate porn.

🔥Lastly, math prof AU (TGM)

You already know all (and came up with some) of the random background that might not make it into this fic, BUT, I just want to yell about what I want Jake to look like in this fic, so here are some pictures:

At the faculty Christmas Party:

Everyday Professor Seresin (you sent me this one, but just look at him!)

More daily Prof. Seresin:

Bonus, Bob as another math professor:

[mistydeyes]

I’m not sure if this is the correct way to ask for a mw3 pairing, if it’s not the correct way then I’m sorry. I’m also sorry that this ask will be so long..

Appearance

. Red hair, shoulder length, feathery layers with bangs, waves that curl( ?)

. 5’3

.Green eyes

.Fair skin and freckles

. Nails are most often painted black

Personality

.INFJ-T

.introvert

.Anxious

.shy with ppl I don’t know but I open up after awhile of knowing the person and that’s when I can actually relax and have fun

.not smart in the math category or anything like that

.puts other people before me, no matter how much I want something or whatever, the person I love will always come first

.gets overwhelmed easily in crowds or in places with loud noises or bright lights

.night owl, literally nothing helps me go to sleep anymore lol

.overthinker

.willing to try anything at least once

.tries to be nice to everyone even if they have done me wrong

.very oblivious when it comes to ppl flirting with me

.prefers staying in then going out but if I’m comfortable enough with the person who wants to go out I’ll be happy to go with them

Things I like

.bones and different oddities

.Old things

. Any iceberg video over something disturbing, something I can watch for hours over something I find interesting

.horror movies that make me think

.cats

.ancient history and archaeology

.museums and aquariums

.metal/rock music

What I like in a Partner

.someone older, taller, and stronger than me, i like it when I can feel protected and safe

.someone who has strong opinions cause I have hard time making decisions

.someone who doesn’t yell often or someone who isn’t loud cause loud noises stress me out

.I do like the mysterious and edgy types I can’t help myself

.someone who enjoys the same music I do

Future Aspiration

. I would like to be a forensic psychologist <3 or something similar

Simon "Ghost" Riley

How you met: Military Your time in the military was unconventional. While most people would picture you all geared up in the heat of battle, you had a different image of your time. Instead, you sat in a private office helping soldiers and their families following retirement from the army. You loved your job, your forensic psychology degree had trained you to do many things but you found this to be the most satisfying. As you looked at your next soldier for the day, you realized it was the famous Captain Price. He entered your office soon after, followed by three men. "Um, I thought I was seeing John Price today?" you asked confused. "Here to support, ma'am. Want to make sure our Captain is all set!" one of the shorter men with a mohawk replied. You gestured for them to get comfortable as you began to ask Price what he needed before returning home and provided him with a plan to stay active and happy. The whole time you lectured him, you couldn't help but notice a man with a signature ghost mask listening to your every word. You heard whispers about how he was handsome underneath it which you now believed seeing how his eyes sparkled in the afternoon light. With your last few words, you dismissed the men. The ghost masked soldier was the last to leave and he turned to you saying, "You do good work doc, we need more people like you."

A peek into your relationship: "Why do you watch this crap again?" Ghost asked as you were glued to another disturbing films iceberg video. You were settled comfortably in your bed, him with a book and you with your Youtube videos. You paused the ramblings of Wendigoon to answer your partner. "Because it's interesting," you responded before he laughed and placed a kiss on your forehead. "You're an odd one, love" he said. "You didn't say that when I brought our two kittens home" you replied defensively, now turning to face him. "Ah that's right, there is a reason I picked you," he joked before giving you a more loving kiss. "Mhmm now let me get back to this, I wanna see what's at the bottom" you said triumphantly before Ghost returned to his book, loving his life with his unique significant other.

[karuinekom]

ouizzy modern au ideas

i've been dwelling on the idea of a modern ouizzy au fanfic (embracing the new name with all my body and soul), just to have a less grumpy and gloomy izzy, without that much trauma and maybe with his little pinky still at his place, attached at his foot. and also, I just wanted fewer troubles figuring out how those two could've interacted at the end of season one. so well I'm finally writing down headcanons about the characters and just like some plot lines ;)

frenchie just started teaching as the music professor in a secondary school (that thingy won't have a name until the very last second), and even on his first day, he arrives late for his own classes, as the goof and the unorganised guy he is

izzy is the school headmaster of said school, and he is planning to quit his job because he's worn out and doesn't really like his current position, longing for the times when he was just a teacher. right, because to be a headmaster, he requires at least 5 years of teaching, but no one except edward knows what subject he taught

edward is an old friend of izzy. the two have been together since elementary school, even if they had to part when ed decided to become a chef and open his own restaurant (the modern version of the bar and grill and other delicacies and delights and fishing equipment and gift shop). he did actually manage to open his own restaurant, but instead of selling fishing equipment, he sells motorcycles gears, being a biker himself

stede is part of the teaching staff in the school, teaching history and philosophy. he has a "secret" affair with ed, without realising that everyone knows about them, considering he always goes back home riding the motorcycle of this "unknown" leather-covered centaur

lucius is the school doctor, actually knowing very little about actual medicine but being the greatest psychologist in the school, giving the best relationship advice ever

pete is the PE teacher, that kind that seems strict at first glance but ends up making the students do whatever they want, letting them play without stretching, just to flee and go flirting with his hot boyfriend, that has his doctor's room right near the outside courtyard

oluwande is the spanish teacher who fell in love with Spain during an erasmus and met a person who initially didn't talk at all, but showed him the city and some of the most beautiful places around the neighbourhood. indeed he may have fallen in love with that person - who happens obviously to be jim - far more than just spain. years later, he found them once again, by accident, at a concert and recognised them right away and started chasing them down until they remembered oluwande as well

beyond the school faculty, frenchie has a band with a couple of friends: wee john, his roommate, plays the electric keyboard player, buttons plays the bass, and Jim the drum. swede joins them occasionally and does the background vocalist, and just some times because swede is a musical actor and he's often busy even at the weekends. and then i'm not forgetting my boi frenchie, the lead guitarist and main singer and they will need a name for the band- but i'm still thinking about it and, in any case, will keep it secret for now

roach is the chef in the bar and grill and other delicacies and delights and whatever else, firstly starting as ed's sous-chef and then becoming the one in charge considering his unusual recipes made the restaurant unique and making him a very in-demand place. also, ed decided to step down from being the chef and work more like the restaurant owner, and he's actually pretty good with math and being the management accounting (comeback of Jeff the accounter) of the bar

wee john, other than playing the electric keyboard and knowing something about songwriting, has a garden shop and, actually, he's very good at gardening. he's frenchie's roommate and best friend, and despite being his close friend, he was one of the latest ones joining the band because he wasn't sure he wanted to be also a musician

buttons real job is a mystery by now (and that's not me trying to avoid making up a story at this moment), no one in the band really understood it because the story keeps changing: once, buttons had been a sailor and met the love of his life, a mermaid, and he followed her blindly before stranding on a deserted island, one another time he said that he's been a famous flautist before having to leave the country, and another one, he said that he simply works in a pet shop, where he can talk with birds as much as he wants. Buttons started playing the bass after he watched bohemian rhapsody at the cinema with wee john, a friend, and frenchie, who told him that they were definitely searching for a bassist. i also want to think that he got his skills basically in one night, simply magically

jim are a spanish drummer that worked a lot as a bartender before focusing full time on music. that's why they are a great listener. Jim and Olu met in spain when they both were just teens, and the foreign kid really stuck into his memory, and when they met by chance again, it didn't take long for them to recognise him. they have been helping out Ed with the restaurant, and were the one suggesting to invite band and singers for live performances in the bar

still, i don't really have big plans for ivan and fang but i love them too much to not include them ever, so for now, Ivan is a regular at Ed's restaurant and a biker as well, while Fang works in a pet shelter and has like 5 dogs at home. are they in a relationship? who knows, maybe yes, maybe not

now, for the more plot things i planned, i don't wanna say too much, but the first dynamic between that clumsy guitarist and the grumpy, sad headmaster has to be fucking stupid: on his first day, that same day where he arrived late for class, and he probably did something else totally extra, he got locked into the music classroom because he forgot the custodian told him the door is actually kind of broken, and without the keys, from the inside, it was almost impossible to open. and guess who forgot the keys outside the door, in the outside keyhole? you guessed right, it was frenchie. So his last hope, since it's pretty late and the students just went home, is that someone is still around, maybe the janitor or some other teachers, and that whoever is it could hear him sing and play the guitar and possibly rescue him. doing so, a pretty tired izzy hands walk into the corridor and hears a fucking loud noise coming from one of the classes. annoyed and upset that someone was still in the school, he unlocked the door, and a bright smile starts thanking him, energetically shaking his hand, not even realising he was talking with the headmaster. and said the headmaster is utterly dumbfounded in front of this kid, not caring at all about his position and the fact he's just a teacher, moreover, a new one. and his blackened, stony heart may be cracking a little- just a little crack for now. but what if izzy hands, confused by what happened, barge inside his ed's restaurant, ending up talking with jim. and that week was even worse because the two kept crossing each other without even realising it and in a blink of an eye it's friday, and again izzy goes to that bar where a certain band is making a concert...

[nevalizona]

Random brain dump about Marshall since he won't leave my brain sksksk

• Is a mommas boy.

• Gets along fine with his dad.

• His mom let's him get away with anything and everything.

• Him and his younger sister buttheads often because she has to be responsible for him. She's practically his personal maid and it isn't fair.

• He used to bum around the house often, when he wasn't out and about flirting with girls and hanging out with friends.

• He played football in high school and college even though he's always been thin.

• He worked at his dad's autorepair shop for much of his teens and a year or two of college before he decided to get a different job.

• He has always liked math and science but particularly liked physics.

• He would have done great at school if he put more effort into it.

• In college he flirted with all the cheerleaders, whenever he could.

• He is not great at relationships and struggles with committing to one woman.

• He has a thing for older women.

• When his youngest sister was born, he tried to be a bit more responsible.

• He feels that he practically raised her along with their parents.

• When he worked with Aldridge they had a complicated partnership. Sometimes they liked eachother. Sometimes they hated each other.

• Him and Aldridge mostly worked well together, and could put their feelings aside during assignments.

• Him and John did not get along right away. John is very punctual and takes work very seriously, whereas Marshall is more laidback.

• Even when they were able to be more cordial they still buttheads often and definitely are not friends by any means.

• He had a girlfriend while he was in the agency but it was very on and off.

[parkerbombshell]

The Menace's Attic #812

This Week – Episode #812 (09/30/2017)  “I Did The Math And This Is The 116th” 7” Edition. That Means That If Each Record I’ve Played Spun For An Average Of Three Minutes At 45 Revolutions Per Minute I Have Absolutely No Idea How To Calculate The Total Number Of Spuns, I Mean, Spins“             Classic Rock Retro - rock - Rock N Roll - soul - DISCO - Groove Opening Song It’s My Party – Dave Stewart and Barbara Gaskin (Stiff) Set #1 If Girls Always Go For The Trouble Boys, Does That Mean The Trouble Boys Always Go For The Girls That Lead Them Into Temptation? A Must To Avoid – Herman’s Hermits (MGM) Johnny Are You Queer? – Josie Cotton (Elektra) Psychedelic Shack – The Temptations (Gordy) Set #2 Depending On Where You’re Listening It’s Either The Beginning Of Fall Or Spring And With That, A Set That Is So Seasonally Balanced, You’ll Never Need Permission To Flirt With The Cinnamon Girl Or For That Matter Get High With Her! On The Beach – The Flirts (O) Panama Red – New Riders Of The Purple Sage (Columbia) Cinnamon Girl – Neil Young (Reprise) Belly Of The Whale – Burning Sensations (Capitol) Set #3 After All Those Fast Tunes It’s Time For A Couple Of Slow Dances. Boys, Remember To Keep Your Hands To Yourself, Girls Remember To Keep The Boys Hands To Yourself! It’s A Night for Beautiful Girls – The Fools (EMI) True Blue – Madonna (Sire) Alison – Elvis Costello (Columbia) (Theme From) Valley Of The Dolls – Dionne Warwick (Scepter) Set #4 It’s Time To Let The Cat Out Of The Can, The Poles, And The Stevens Because Love Is Finally Out Of The Shadows! Matthew & Son – Cat Stevens (Deram) Can The Can – Suzi Quatro (Bell) John I’m Only Dancing – The Polecats (Mercury) Love Shadow – Fashion (Arista) Closing Song Love Shadow – Fashion (Arista) Read the full article

[mogensenortega2]

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