wait wait please tell me more about the thistlecaster tangled au
oh boy oh boy im about to explode. prepare for a deeply silly heartfelt au that hovers in the back of my mind so very often
gorgug is (approximately) flynn, fabian is (approximately) rapunzel
by this i mean that they fill those two roles not that the personalities perfectly align
but to backtrack a little to that age-old worldbuilding: fabian, youngest (adoptive, but who cares) son of cathilda the black falls grievously ill as an infant. devastated and desperate, cathilda and fabian's older siblings (princess maeve, prince kieran, and princess rory, though theyre not super relevant to the au i just care about them a lot) hunt for magical cures high and low and eventually find an ancient healing blossom blessed by Galicaea, goddess of the moon, and Cassandra, goddess of the night and of mystery. some say that the flower came from the tears Galicaea shed when her sister first died, but that's neither here nor there...
the royal guard sneaks and fights through the wards around the flower and brews it into a healing draught, one that restores the infant prince's strength--but as he heals and grows bit by bit, the royal family notices a shocking change. fabian's hair, previously a pale silver, has turned moon-white. writing it off as a simple change, the likes of which frequently occur with infants, queen cathilda announces that her baby is healed and the kingdom rejoices
except word reaches bill and hallariel seacaster, fabian's biological parents. you see, they didn't want to deal with a child on their adventures, so they dropped him off on the shores of their former friend's kingdom.
a magical child, however...that's not a burden. that's an opportunity.
hallariel tricks her way into her palace to try and siphon some of fabian's magic, but finds it tied to the boy's blood and hair. so, of course, she steals him back. don't worry, she left a note thanking cathilda for taking such good (temporary) care of him, but she and bill have quite the client list looking for the magical youth, healing, and immortality a child with the healing power of a god can bring
cathilda hunts them down to no avail. the hangman (the ship) stops sailing, hiding in a cove shrouded by the best wards money can buy. fabian grows up in a cabin of that ship, never stepping foot off of it and never seeing another person beyond the clients his doting (ha) mama and papa bring in
cue the lantern celebration, a last hope from the royal ceíli family that their last little one will find his way home
cut to nineteen years later. thief duo fig and gorgug need one last score to be able to leave the kingdom behind with more than enough money to pursue their dreams once they end up Anywhere But There. the score in question? the crown of the lost prince
things don't go to plan, though--they get caught on the way out of the vault and end up splitting up, unable to reach their meeting spot now that (junior) captain of the guard riz gukgak is on their tails. fig heads for the forest sans-crown, gorgug heads for the shore with the crown, and when he sees what looks like a shipwreck in the middle of a secluded cove he decides to trust his gut and sneak aboard.
the problem is, of course, that the second he's on board, the glamour fades and the ship is clearly whole and hale. not that he gets much of a chance to process this, though. he gets brained over the head by a large, heavy blunt object, shoved into a closet, and then is blackmailed by the most beautiful man he's ever seen with the longest hair in the goddamn world to take him to see the floating lights in return for the crown. always a man of honor, gorgug agrees, and the ethereally beautiful stranger introduces himself as fabian
and he is. shockingly easy to fall in love with. mesmerized by the outside world. determined to experience as much as he can in the short few days he has without clients. deeply melancholy. maybe a little too fearless
he shudders whenever gorgug holds his hand, like he's not used to the touch. to the comfort
gorgug thinks there isn't much he wouldn't give to see him happy, escape plan aside.
(cue the whole adventure. all of it. except fabian doesnt lose his magic like rapunzel does bc i always thought that was silly. he does THINK that that's where his power stems from, because that's what bill and hallariel always thought and told him)
(also, this is a fabian who wasn't trained, bc bill decided he made a better asset when he was unable to fight the people they sold his magic to. you know, if he ever decided to escape. a lot harder to do that when you can't fight back)
(this au was originally conceptualized with transfem!fabian but really it can be done either way)
(the scene where eugene is totally speechless when he first sees rapunzel? that, but thistlecaster)
(the hangman [dog] is pascal)
33 notes
·
View notes
🎃+ Stranger Things
🎃 - “we accidentally matched costumes and now everyone thinks we’re dating”
send me an emoji + a fandom and I'll write you a mini fic!
Steve stares at the clothing Robin has laid out on his bed, a frown on his face. "Seriously, Rob? Do I have to wear this?"
"A bet's a bet, dingus," Robin says. "You're the dumbass who bet me that I couldn't get Vickie to do a keg stand last weekend, and you agreed that if she did, I get to choose your costume."
"Yeah," Steve says, "but a dress?"
"Aww, don't worry, Stevie," Robin croons. "You've totally got the legs for it."
Steve sighs and picks up the dress. "Fine. But I draw the line at makeup. I will not be totally embarrassed in my own home."
Robin cackles with glee and shoves Steve toward his bathroom. "This is going to be amazing."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Eddie opens the door to the trailer right as Dustin lifts his hand to pound on it again; "Chill out, dude. I heard you the first time. Knock any louder, and you're gonna crack the windows."
"Sorry," Dustin says, not sounding at all apologetic. "But this hay is really heavy and I still have to go get my costume on for Steve's party."
Eddie grins, taking the armful from Dustin. "Thanks, man. How'd you get your hands on so much anyway?"
Dustin shrugs, and says, "My mom's like, super into crafting these days. She made all our Halloween decorations this year, and this was all her leftovers."
"Sick. Okay, scram, I got it from here. Tell your mom I said thanks."
"Tell her yourself. She's waiting in the car."
Eddie perks up immediately. "I thought you were having Nancy bring you? Why didn't you say Mama Henderson was here?" he asks, running outside to go give Mrs. Henderson a squeeze.
Dustin ambles along behind him muttering the whole time about how everyone always likes his mom more than him.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The party starts at 8pm sharp, which naturally means everyone shows up at 8:30; Steve has different music playing in every room, loud enough so you can hear it but not so loud that they drown each other out. He's got a few kegs, and a shitload of soda, and Hopper and Joyce are on their way, prepared to watch the kids to make sure none of them try to sneak any booze.
The doorbell rings, and Robin races him to the door, flinging it open excitedly. All of the kids, plus Joyce and Hopper are gathered on the front walk, chattering excitedly and fawning over each others' costumes.
"Okay, okay," Robin says, "Let's get this party going!" Joyce gives her a hug as she walks in and compliments her Bowie costume, and Hopper grunts as he passes; if Robin had to bet, she'd guess Joyce forced him into their couple's costume of The Dread Pirate Roberts and Princess Buttercup, but they look cute as hell so she doesn't know why he's so mad.
The kids are an eclectic bunch of costumes, with Max and El as the twins from The Shining, Dustin as Marty McFly, Mike, Will, and Lucas as the three male leads from The Breakfast Club; Jonathan and Nancy are dressed as Princess Leia and Han Solo, Argyle is Tommy Chong, and Eddie is...oh my God.
Robin throws back her head and cackles at the sight of Eddie dressed as The Scarecrow. "Oh my God. Oh my God, this is too good."
Eddie makes a dramatic show of stumbling through the door and gives a bow. "I figured I'm already stumbling around all the time, might as well make it work in my favor."
Robin just laughs some more, and drags Eddie into the kitchen, where Steve is explaining the drinks situation to Hopper and Joyce.
Eddie stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Steve in sparkly kitten heels and a knee-length checkered dress. "Holy shit."
Steve stops mid-sentence and looks up at Eddie; "Robin? Now might be a good time for you to run."
Robin darts behind Hopper, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and poking her head around his side. "I swear, Steve, I had no idea."
Joyce and Hopper are fighting back laughter, and Eddie is still staring open-mouthed at Steve.
"So you're telling me we accidentally wore a couple's costume?"
Eddie shakes his head and grins at Steve. "Ah, a true Wizard of Oz connoisseur, acknowledging the long-ignored sexual tension between Dorothy Gale and The Scarecrow."
Hopper actually chokes at that, and tries to mask it as a cough; he reaches behind himself and pulls Robin out from behind him. "So," he says, mirth coloring his tone. "You're the reason Harrington is stumbling around in heels?"
Robin nods, trying not to laugh. "He lost a bet."
Joyce shakes her head fondly and pats Steve on the shoulder. "You've got the legs for it, honey," she says kindly.
"That's what I said!" Robin yells, gesturing at Steve's admittedly toned calves.
"I hate everyone in this kitchen," Steve grumbles, heading to open the door as more guests arrive.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The party gets underway, and everyone is having a good time; Hopper and Joyce are vigilantly holding court in the kitchen, to the kids' dismay, but Robin just shushes them and passes a single cup of beer for them to pass around. Each of them takes a sip and scrunches their noses, shaking their heads; "That's vile," Max says, spitting her sip back into the cup. Robin grins and gives Steve a thumbs up from across the room; they knew if they gave the kids shitty beer they'd lose all interest in drinking.
Steve is standing with Argyle, who's waxing poetic to him about the impact Cheech and Chong have had on society, and trying to look interested; Eddie is on the other side of the room, debating Star Wars with Jonathan and Nancy; the members of Corroded Coffin are dancing with Robin's band friends, and everyone is having a really good time, which is a welcome relief in the wake of finally defeating the monsters in their town.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
At the end of the night, Hopper and Joyce round up all the kids and drive them home in shifts; Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, and Eddie are all too tipsy to drive, and have announced they're sleeping over at Steve's to help him and Robin clean up.
As they're doing so, collecting red solo cups and candy wrappers in each room, Eddie sidles up to Steve.
"Surprised you're still wearing the shoes," he says, a sly grin on his face.
"They're not so uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours," Steve says with a shrug.
"You know," Eddie says slowly. "Everyone was asking me tonight when I finally made a move on you. Nobody seemed to believe we didn't match our costumes on purpose."
Steve laughs softly. "Yeah, I got the same treatment all night."
Eddie inches closer to Steve, crowding him against the dining room table. "Well," he drawls. "Maybe we should take their advice?"
Steve looks sharply up at Eddie. "W...what?"
Eddie lifts his hand to gently fix Steve's Dorothy wig. "I mean, come on, Steve. We spend all our time together anyway. What's the difference in that and just...throwing in a little making out?"
Steve flushes and ducks his head. "Didn't think you were interested."
"Baby," Eddie says, tipping Steve's head back up with a finger under his chin. "I've been flirting with you relentlessly for weeks."
Steve blinks rapidly and then crushes his lips against Eddie's. "Thank god," he says breathlessly when they pull apart. "Kinda pissed I had to wear a dress for you to make a move though."
Eddie laughs, loud and bright. "Steve, you could've worn a burlap sack and I'd still have a hard time not kissing you in front of everyone. I've been dying to do this."
Robin walks in right then and throws her fists up in victory. "FINALLY!" she screeches. "GUYS! It happened!"
"I hate all of you," Eddie and Steve say in unison as everyone runs in, catcalling them.
"Is now a bad time to say I knew what Eddie was dressing as and that Vickie had been practicing her keg stands and that this whole thing was an elaborate plot?" Robin asks, smirking triumphantly.
Steve freezes and narrows his eyes at Robin. "Hopper's not here to protect you now, Buckley," he says, lunging towards her and chasing her through his house as she cackles.
17 notes
·
View notes
Hello. Please, tell me what do you think about Angua. I'm personally struggling to like her after her words to Carrot, something about "why you are so supportive!?", when he didn't start a fuss about her being the werewolf.
It would be nice to see another point of view for the character. I hope it helps me to understand her better.
Thank you
Hi!! Firstly thank you so much for this ask! It’s a really fun one and I’ve been thinking over how best to answer it and figuring out what exactly I like about Angua so much, so I appreciate it a lot!
There are a few different reasons why I like her. Some of them are pretty superficial, so I think I’ll get those out of the way first.
In general I just think that she’s pretty cool! From a purely superficial standpoint she’s pretty and gets to be badass and a werewolf and that’s just kind of fun. The whole circumstances around people finding out she’s a werewolf are also just pretty funny to me.
I also really like her in terms of the way that she’s written.
I really like how Pterry writes women in general because he manages to write them in a way that doesn’t feel like it’s fitting into stereotypes about women? They’re all real people with nuances and I feel like Angua is a good example of that. Yes, she does get to be badass, but also she’s a person and has a lot going on internally. She’s got a constant struggle with trying to fit in around people and trying to be human which is something that I haven’t often seen around werewolf characters and I think Pterry explores it well.
Werewolves in media seem to go in a couple of pretty predictable ways. You get the general horror of someone turning into a werewolf and then it either seems to go in the direction of oh no the werewolf is a monster!1!1! Or oh, the werewolf has a pack and learns to live that way. For me Angua is interesting because Pterry goes okay, but what if a werewolf doesn’t have a pack?? Angua is pretty much estranged from her family; she doesn’t have anyone to help her with the experience and is generally met with fear and hostility when people find out that she’s a werewolf. She has to deal with a LOT, even people who mean well and actively like her (Cheery) inadvertently hurt her with comments about werewolves and that’s someone who doesn’t know she’s a werewolf!! I can’t imagine that other Ankh Morpork citizens are somehow kinder or more understanding. And in amongst that you get to see the inner conflict that Angua has. She comes to this environment and she doesn’t just magically adjust - she struggles with trying to maintain control when she turns and she struggles with maintaining humanity and seeming human, because that’s what people around her will accept.
I think that, for the most part, is why I can understand the way she reacts to Carrot, as it’s pretty unusual for someone to be completely supportive. I’m segueing slightly, but I do really like how her relationship with Carrot develops because it’s nice that she has someone there who accepts her without question. Carrot is just *nice*, with no ulterior motives or strings attached and that’s something she doesn’t seem to encounter too often.
The other main reason that I like Angua is how comedic her perspective is. She’s quite a funny character and consistently plays the straight man to the rest of the watch’s insanity and that’s really fun.
Her internal monologue is great for this because despite being a werewolf she’s somehow the most normal person in the watch.
I love those watch guys but Dear God none of them are normal about their job. I love Vimes’ POV very much and he’s one of my all time favourite characters, but sometimes it feels nice to just take a step back and view the watch through the eyes of someone who isn’t used to it. Angua is pretty great for this.
I also quite like seeing her go from incredulous to understanding about Carrot - she’s quite perceptive and figures out pretty quickly that he’s deceptively simple. She can also be quite dry in terms of humour, which I personally really like.
Overall I just think that she’s pretty neat! I hope that this has been helpful!
Ultimately though, if you still don’t really like her then that’s fine too!! Discworld is full of wonderful characters and the best part is that there’s no right answers about which ones resonate, even if one is particularly popular or well liked.
19 notes
·
View notes
fun fact, during my first fully blind playthrought of bg3 I honestly thought gale was the writers' favourite if nothing else because of how much varied dialogue he had. like I never reallly had a conversation with astarion that wasn't about his trauma, his vampirism or how boring I am for not wanting to take over a cult but I knew all of gale's hobbies, two or three childhood's anecdotes and the whole history of tara, who he was making plans to introduce to me later.
25 notes
·
View notes
"Rodimus is a better Prime because it didn't hurt for him to bond with the Matrix while for Optimus it did" headcanon/theory my beloathed.
One day I'm literally gonna snap and make a whole post addressing why what's wrong bc I'm tired of the inaccuracy and tired of ppl not understanding the Point TM of IDW and its version of the Matrix/Primacy and even more tired of people putting down Optimus in favor of Rodimus by essentially arguing that being unworthy means you deserve to be punished/put in pain bc you just weren't good enough to hold the Symbol of Ultimate Authority
11 notes
·
View notes
ok there is not one true interpretation of a song and all that, whatever, fine, death of the author and all that. but sometimes people's interpretations are so stupid it's like. no. that's NOT what she meant. and further, NO ONE has ever meant that before.
3 notes
·
View notes
thinkin back to the rggo story where mine saves daigo after he gets kidnapped because daigo thought kiryu was in danger and mine immediately scolds him for acting recklessly and daigo’s just ‘no one’s ever stood up to me before aside from kashiwagi’ and how that calls back to daigo’s Y0 substory where kiryu tells him only true friends will stand up to him and put him in his place and im--
40 notes
·
View notes
now that i'm at The College I'm Getting My Degree From i'm like ooooooh it's all real now! i'm actively working on a international literary journal and shit!
5 notes
·
View notes
Oh my God, I love that kiss fic already and now it's even harder to wait for the new chapter(s). I loooove that you love what you're writing, that's so important!!!!! Sending love your wayyyyy (and obvs don't feel pressured, pls) <33333
awwwww! anon, this is so sweet <3333 and i couldn't agree more!! it really is SO important to love what you're writing, because nothing burns you out faster than when you're not getting joy from writing, you know? thankfully, nothing gives me quite as much joy as these two french & french-adjacent fucks doing the nasty 🤭 what that says about ME and about my sanity, i have no idea, but at least it's fabulous for the writing 🤣❤️
4 notes
·
View notes
anyways my 2 cents notice how dsmp started to get uh. bad. when suddenly c!dream became a, um, quote unquote "fleshed out character" and not just. "hey this guy is fucked up and straight up evil even if some people that have sided with him are morally grey." just my thoughts tho
12 notes
·
View notes
i love final fantasy.
2 notes
·
View notes
sometimes i randomly remember the time i was swimming as a kid and it was by the big pool but near the edge and the uhh entrance of the pool anyways i almost drowned and so i grabbed lune to live and almost drowned her. good times
3 notes
·
View notes
it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.
i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.
when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.
on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.
we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.
i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?
how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.
last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.
i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.
6K notes
·
View notes
been wringing my hands about the concept of family therapy. scary stuff. like maybe it could help and we sure as hell need SOMETHING to change but i think it would be like taking a potato peeler to the soles of my feet
0 notes
if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333
the 141 falls asleep on you
wc: 2.1k
hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)
price
✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.
✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.
✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.
✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.
✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.
✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.
✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.
✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.
✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.
✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.
✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.
✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.
✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"
✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.
✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.
gaz
✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.
✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.
✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"
✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."
✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.
✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."
✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.
✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.
✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.
✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.
✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.
✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.
✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."
soap
✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.
✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.
✹ but it hadn't happened like that of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.
✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.
✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.
✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.
✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.
✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.
✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"
✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"
✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.
✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"
✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.
✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.
✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.
✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.
✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.
✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"
ghost
✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.
✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.
✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.
✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.
✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.
✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.
✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.
✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.
✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.
✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.
✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.
✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.
✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.
5K notes
·
View notes
overtime (m. schmidt x reader)
request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"
note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.
pairing: mike schmidt x reader
tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary
after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.
you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"
he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."
awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.
you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.
"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."
"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."
both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"
"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."
mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.
"y'know—"
"so, i should really—"
the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."
you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."
he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."
your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."
mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"
before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.
instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.
much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.
"please, what, honey?" he teases.
you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."
mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.
as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.
he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.
"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."
"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.
his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.
mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.
you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."
mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"
you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.
3K notes
·
View notes