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hrrtshape · 2 months ago

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Hi Emma, I really need help for a script set in ancient times. I really don’t know where to start! I am not much of an historian but I really wanted to shift in Ancient Rome!

the ultimate guide to surviving ancient rome.

welcome, time traveler!!!!!!!! i'm emma. and i'll be helping you survive ancient rome. if you find yourself navigating the grandeur and grime of ancient rome, you’ll need this comprehensive guide to thrive in an empire of marble, politics, and intrigue. from securing a place to stay to social etiquette, this will cover everything you need to know !!! so you don't die :)

where to start as you're entering rome??

arrival : if you're arriving from another part of the empire, the best entry points are ostia (rome’s main port) or the via appia, a road leading directly to the city. the first thing you might see see will be a chaotic, sprawling metropolis of temples, markets, bathhouses, and crowded tenement buildings (insulae).

where to stay : if you're wealthy, you’ll want to rent or buy a domus (townhouse) in the city. if you’re less affluent (already sorry for you, not in a mean way but you won't last there long), an insula (apartment) in the subura district will suffice. though beware of fires and collapsing buildings ! xx

your hygiene and daily routines.

bathing : rome is famous for its public baths (thermae). visit places like the baths of caracalla or the baths of trajan. bring a small fee for entry and enjoy hot and cold plunges. don’t forget oil and a strigil (a scraping tool) to clean off dirt. they, sadly, didn't have body lotion yet.

toilets and sanitation : rome has public latrines where people sit side by side (awkward but normal). a sponge on a stick (tersorium. yikes) is used instead of toilet paper, make sure to rinse it properly in running water, or you'll become the disgust of the city.

dental care : romans used powdered charcoal, crushed bones, and even urine (yes, really. look. it wasn't modern) to clean their teeth. bring your own mint leaves if you want to keep fresh breath without resorting to ammonia-based methods.

food and dining.

what to eat : the roman diet includes bread, olives, cheese, fruit, and fish. garum (fermented fish sauce) is a staple seasoning. wealthy romans dine on exotic meats like peacock and dormice. yep.

where to eat : If you’re not cooking at home, stop by a thermopolium (a fast-food stand) for warm meals like stews and bread. not a mcdonalds, but it sufficed.

dining etiquette : reclining while eating is a sign of wealth. if invited to a noble’s banquet, expect multiple courses, lively discussions, and perhaps some questionable entertainment (like performing dwarves or poetry recitals).

housing and shelter.

domus : wealthy residents live in lavish homes with atriums, mosaics, and private gardens. if you’re in this category, hire slaves (SORRY. servants) to maintain the household.

insulae : these apartment buildings house most of rome’s population. they’re cheap but prone to fires, so always have an escape plan.

villas : if you want to escape city life, consider acquiring a countryside villa in places like campania or etruria.

personal safety.

crime : rome has a high crime rate, especially at night. avoid dark alleys, and keep a small dagger or hire a bodyguard (mercenarii) if you're wealthy.

fires : the city is prone to fires due to overcrowded wooden buildings. have an evacuation route and be aware of nearby water sources.

legal system : if you get into trouble, hire an orator to defend you in court. bribery is often the fastest solution to legal woes.

money and commerce.

the currency : the roman monetary system includes sestertii, denarii, and aurei (gold coins). always carry small change for daily expenses.

shopping : the forum is rome’s commercial hub. you can buy anything from spices to togas. haggle, but not too aggressively, or you might offend the merchant. most things didn't have a tag, and the merchants would judge the price based on how you looked or talk. so. beware.

banking : rome has early banking institutions where you can store wealth. avoid keeping large sums on your person.

social class and interaction.

patricians vs. plebeians : social mobility is limited, but a well-connected plebeian can rise in status through military service or patronage.

slaves and freedmen : slavery was integral to roman society. freed slaves (liberti) can gain status, though they can remain linked to their former masters.

etiquette : addressing senators as “domine” (sir) and deferring to patricians in public are key social customs.

entertainment and leisure.

gladiatorial games : the colosseum hosts blood sports where slaves and prisoners fight to the death. betting on matches is common. vomiting in the stands..is also common.

chariot races : the circus maximus holds races between four factions: reds, blues, greens, and whites. pick a team and cheer them on.

theatre and oratory : if you have a sensitive stomach, enjoy performances at the theatre of pompey or listen to public speeches at the forum.

religion and temples.

gods and worship : rome’s pantheon includes jupiter, mars, venus, and more. each home has a household shrine (lararium) for daily offerings.

festivals : participate in saturnalia (a wild celebration where roles reverse and slaves feast like masters) or lupercalia (a fertility festival involving ritual sacrifices).

christianity : in early rome, christians were often persecuted. so. be discreet if practicing or associating with followers.

long-term survival...how do you are adapting to rome?

language : learn latin phrases. knowing greek is also helpful among the elite.

fashion : wear a tunic for daily life and a toga for formal occasions. women should drape themselves in stolas.

networking : find a patron for career advancement. political connections open a lot of doors in rome.

and that is this. if you survive, you're a guaranteed a cookie, albeit those didn’t yet exist, i think. with this guide, you’re well-equipped to navigate rome’s splendour and chaos. whether you seek luxury, knowledge, or power, the eternal city awaits! pls don't die!

#asks #emmas vampire dr #shifting #reality shifting #shifting motivation #desired reality #realityshifting #shifting community #shifting realities #reality shift #shiftingrealities #shifting tips #shifting blog #shifting consciousness #shifting stories #shifting ideas #shifting reality #shifting antis dni #reality shifting community

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hope-for-the-planet · 1 month ago

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I included some highlights from the article here, but I highly recommend reading this whole thing.

We hear so much about how wildfires that move into towns or cities devastate communities--but once the blazes have finally been extinguished the news usually moves on to the next crisis and we don't get to hear about how these communities and outside helpers rally together to rebuild afterwards. Including regrowing the trees and gardens that help provide shade and food security to neighborhoods.

From the article:

"The Altadena Seed Library, a network of seed exchange boxes, is leading the charge. Raj’s project began in 2021, with several little seed libraries stationed around the community. Seed libraries mimic regular libraries, but instead of books, people check out (and use) envelopes of seeds for free. Now, Raj and other volunteers are working on a game plan for regrowing the lawns, gardens, and urban green spaces that combat shade inequity and increase food sovereignty in their neighborhood — and looking to learn from other communities that have also seen their landscapes drastically altered by destructive wildfires. Donated seeds and tools are pouring in from locals and places around the country, as well as compost, pots, trees, and personal protective equipment for people cleaning up the hazardous waste leftover from burned homes and melted cars. “We’ve had a pretty overwhelming response,” Raj said. “People have been so, so generous.” Individual volunteers and organizations like Club Gay Gardens, a nonprofit in nearby Glendale, are helping sort the donated seeds. [...] Replanting efforts in Paradise, California, where the Camp Fire killed 85 people in 2018, and Lahaina, Hawai‘i, where a wildfire killed 102 people in 2023, offer inspiration as to what responsible reseeding can look like post-fire. Wildfire survivors from up and down the West Coast have already reached out to Raj, offering to help Altadena. “It’s so unfortunate to be bonded in that way,” Raj said. “It also feels really beautiful that those connections can grow out of something so tragic.” The Federal Emergency Management Agency helped test for soil toxicity in Paradise, eventually scraping the contaminated top layers away. But replanting efforts were left to residents. “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for these community groups that all came together,” said Jennifer Peterson, a Paradise local who saw her house, plus a seed library and two community gardens she worked on, destroyed. Peterson and other community members worked hard to safely reestablish old food sources. In 2020, several groups and 300 volunteers joined forces to rebuild — in one day — a nonprofit arts and culture center whose public gardens provide compost, seeds, and produce for free. Grant money allowed organizations like the Butte County Local Food Network to prepare 150 garden boxes and deliver them to people’s homes, complete with new soil and plants. Being part of efforts to regrow people’s food — and her front yard, which now teems with native wildflowers whose seeds survived the fire — has helped Peterson heal. “It was kind of like therapy for everybody,” she said. In Lahaina, on Maui, where an estimated 150,000 trees burned, replanting efforts so far have focused on fruit trees that will eventually provide food and shade again, said Duane Sparkman, chair of the Maui County Arborist Committee and cofounder of Treecovery Hawaii, a nonprofit focused on replanting Lahaina. So far, Treecovery Hawaii has raised half a million dollars to purchase trees at full price from local nurseries and give them to families who are rebuilding. The organization has established several hubs to grow more trees, and Sparkman said he’d like to buy a larger nursery space on central Maui. A detailed planting plan created by Maui County lays out what types of trees should get planted on the island, as well as the care they need. Over 200 trees have been planted or are in pots on-site, ready to be put in the ground. That includes a mouthwatering array of fruit trees — mango, jackfruit, starfruit, avocado, citrus, and banana — fragrant plumeria and orchid trees, and native species like wiliwili, milo, koa, and lauhala trees. “Knowing that we’re going to be part of what’s eventually going to be the canopy for our grandchildren is immense for us,” Sparkman said."

#wildfire #wildfire rebuilding #climate change #global warming #hope #hopepunk #solarpunk #gardening #food security #climate resilience #widlfire recovery #community #food garden #environment #ecology #food sovereignty

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historiawon · 3 months ago

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WHILE THE IRON IS HOT

You, Rafayel's bodyguard, ask if you can commission him to sketch your next tattoo.

Based on this post. Can also be found on AO3 :)

Tags: gender neutral reader, getting closer (professionally as well as casually), reader is NOT an artist, rafayel is NOT a numbers guy, bickering, close proximity, lots of eye contact

Kindly read under the cut!

They say, ‘Strike when the iron is hot.’

The mantra repeats excessively in your mind as you watch over Rafayel, the person who employed you as his bodyguard. Because the current chances of Wanderers attacking the Mo Art Studio is low (never zero), you give your mind permission to wander. A little. Just a little.

Your mind wanders as far as a few weeks ago: the request at the tip of your tongue. That will later be inked to your skin.

As they say, ‘Strike while the iron is hot.’ You’re standing a few feet away from a brilliant artist. This is your chance.

You cough. “Excuse me.”

“I have a name,” Rafayel says, as he brushes past you to rummage through his box of tools. He takes out a scraper.

“Right. Rafayel?”

“What’s up?” He returns to his stool.

“I have a question, and please indulge me: what do you think about doing commissions?”

“Commissions?” Rafayel repeats, as he scrapes the dried pigment off the canvas. “Like, other people paying me to paint for them?”

“Yes.”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow at you for a split-second before returning his attention back on the painting. He calculates a precise location before scraping again. “In your dreams. I don’t paint for anyone. I don’t even speed up my painting process for Thomas, even if he asked.”

“Even if it will earn you extra income?”

“And extra work! I already work hard enough to finish original pieces as they are.”

You nod and remember the instances of him submitting a painting late. “True. I suppose that your original works already earn enough to support you. . . and Thomas, ‘cause you pay him,” and me, as your bodyguard, you add as an afterthought. Wait, does he even pay me?

(You make a mental note to clarify that later; you have a more pressing concern right now.)

Slowly, Rafayel puts down his scraper and turns towards you. “You want me to paint something for you, is that it?”

“Hm.” You try to be vague. “No, I was just curious.”

“No, you’re not ‘just curious.’ There’s a follow-up question to it; I know.”

Silence hangs in the air as the two of you exchange a prolonged and loaded eye contact. Your breath hitches at the full attention. His pupils glance at your throat before looking back at your eyes.

Y/N, I know, his gaze seems to say.

Your steady look asks: You know?

With a nod, Rafayel’s expectant gaze answers, Try me.

We’re going off topic, Rafayel.

“Ha! You blinked first!” He exclaims in victory then raises a hand as if to stop you from opening your mouth. “Yes, Y/N, I know a staring contest wasn’t what we were doing. But I know you have a follow-up question.”

“I do, but I was planning to take this slow. I know we have…” you gesture to the space between the two of you, “professional boundaries. I’m not in the position to ask for commission requests yet. It’s not even open.”

“So considerate,” Rafayel teases, but his gaze on you softens. “That’s cute.”

“Still, right?”

His ears flush pink, like he can’t believe what just happened. In a snap, he changes back to his usual self and touches his ear. “Just shoot your shot. Time will pass whether you ask me now or later.”

“My follow-up question was about if I can avail your services for an art commission. You can just draw; no colors. I’ll pay. What’s your price?”

“Assuring me straight up that you’ll pay? I like that in a customer!”

“We’re going off topic, Rafayel.”

“Hey! What’s with the accusatory tone?” He says as he rubs his ears. The pink turns to red. “You’re no different. You went on a roundabout way just to ask me for a piece! You can just say,” he straightens his posture—highly reminiscent of your current posture that was earned from your job as a hunter—and imitates your tone, “‘Hey, Raf, can you make this for me? I’ll pay!’ Simple. Done.”

You break character and scoff. He chuckles at your reaction.

“Yes, but that was more of an opening rather than ‘off-topic.’ I’d rather know if you accept commissions or not before I ask you.”

“Why?”

“It’s polite.”

You bite back a grin when he makes a face. He apparently notices the way you hold back a smile—he glances at your mouth once and his ears turn red. Again. Redder than that dried pigment he’s been scraping off. “Whatever. I can be polite.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t.”

“It was implied,” he whined.

You adjust your expression back to a more neutral and respectful one to stay on track of the topic.

“So, how much will a sketch cost?”

“Hmm,” he looks at the ceiling and puts a finger under his jaw, which stains his skin with color. He seems too used to it to bother reacting. “Given that I’ve earned my spot in the industry, it would be, I don’t know. . . a lot?”

“Right. Do you have an exact amount?”

“Oh, cutie, I gotta be honest with you…” Eyes on the canvas, Rafayel scrunches his face with some hard-to-decipher smile. He picks up his scraper and scrapes off a small piece of dried pigment in the corner of the piece. A huge chunk of dried powder falls out. Yikes. “I don’t really know much about the numbers aspect. Will you bother Thomas with a hypothetical question? Don’t tell him I’m considering to give you a commission! I don’t wanna deal with his lectures.”

You make a mental note.

“Sure. I will do that. Do you want me to pay you directly? Since I imagine the price will be a lot, I can pay you in installments, if you accept.”

“Wow,” he drawls, tone impressed, “You thought this through.”

“Mm. I’m serious about this.”

Rafayel’s adam’s apple moves as he fixes his gaze at the canvas with intensity. “I’ll decide depending on the drawing. What do you want me to sketch?”

You imagine your budget, yet again. “Depends on the price.”

“Y/N,” he drawls. “We’re going in circles! Off-topic!”

“I was hoping you would sketch a tattoo for me.”

At that, Rafayel whips his head towards you so fast. The crack of his neck is loud enough for you to feel bad.

“What?” He asks, voice hoarse.

“Is your neck OK—”

“For—forget my neck. Off-topic,” he repeats, with his eyes almost teary on you. “Repeat what you said.”

“A tattoo. Just a small one. Under my ear.” At his stunned silence, you continue, “Well, it’s not every day that I can talk to a talented artist. I’m taking my chances and I’ll pay you, I promise. If I’m unable to pay it in full, then you can take money off my sala—”

“You—you want me to draw a tattoo?”

“Yes. For me.”

“I’ll draw it? Are you sure?” he almost chokes on his words.

“Yes, it would be an honor.”

“’An honor’—oh my god. No, it would be an honor to me. Not to you, to me.” Rafayel fans himself with his collar. “Wha—what—what kind of tattoo?”

“I was thinking of a sunset.” You feel a little unprepared at Rafayel’s reaction. His eyes are wide and mouth agape. No amount of spotlight could top the nerve-wracking feeling of someone’s full attention on you. “Like… I don’t know how that would look good, but… preferably, uh, you know those sketches that are made in a continuous line? Like that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” you repeat. “Does that look good? Any professional, artistic opinion?”

“Whatever you want,” his voice cracks again. You wince. “It’s a tattoo, silly. It’s supposed to be personal.”

“The mere subject is personal. I don’t mind much about the artistic style it takes to get inked on me, as long as it fits the way I look.”

“On your neck, huh…” he mutters. “I’ll help. Let’s make it perfect.”

A pause. Rafayel stands up from his stool and tears off a piece of paper from a sketchbook. “Uh, you might want to sketch what was in your mind. Then I will modify it, if you’re unsatisfied with what you made.”

“I just said I don’t mind ab—”

“A tattoo is personal. You should draw and I’ll check.”

You wave your hands away from the paper. “Ah, no! I already tried. I’m bad at drawing. That is why I need your help.”

Rafayel avoids your gaze and leaves the paper on the stool. “OK, um, I’ll be back. Let me wash my hands first—”

“You don’t have to do it now—” you say, but the man is already brushing past you to wash his pigment-stained hands (and face). He belatedly locks the bathroom door behind him, and you can hear muffled screams from where you are standing.

What’s up with him? You wonder. Is this what happens when you strike a hot iron? You didn’t think you would go this far.

Rafayel returns as if you didn’t hear his muffled screaming. “Who’s gonna do your tattoo?”

“I found a tattoo shop at Linkon city. They said we’re allowed to bring designs of our own.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot and crosses his arms. “And you think they can imitate my genius?”

“I hope they can,” you indulge him a compliment. His ears flush pink—you can see it with the short distance between the two of you.

“How much is it?” You ask again. “Hey, does asking for your opinion have a price?”

“Geez. Why do you keep asking me about money and prices? I literally said I’m not a numbers guy. Don’t go back to the circle, Y/N.” He widens his eyes at you.

“I don’t know; you might be similar to a legal counselor. Don’t they charge clients per session?”

“We’re going off-topic, Y/N,” he says in exasperation. “I don’t know about other artists, but I’m not charging you for asking. Actually, you know what? Pay me with a favor instead. Don’t ask Thomas about a price! You’re commissioning me with a favor!”

The mental note in your head falls down like a ripped-out post-it. “Oh, OK! Thanks?”

“And no, my opinion is for free. You might never ask me for it again if I said it costs something.”

You shrug. “Possibly.”

“So let’s—” Rafayel looks around the room. “Sit down. Your legs must ache from standing all afternoon.”

You sit down on the couch he gestures to. It’s a little relieving on the leg area. Meanwhile, Rafayel tugs his collar with a nervous swallow as he sits next to you. In his hands are two pencils and an eraser shaped like an octopus.

“So, sunset?” He asks awkwardly.

You look at his eyes and smile. “Yes. Sunset.”

“OK. Sunset.”

“Uh-huh. Sunset. Should I get the paper you ripped earlier? And the sketchbook so it can be on top of something?” You say with hands already outstretched.

“So chivalrous,” he teases, but the frown on his face makes the teasing come off as awkward. You playfully scoff to avoid embarrassing him. “Yes. Please start.”

With the paper and sketchbook on your lap, you draw the first line.

The second. The third.

Then regret it.

“Yikes.”

“Hm?”

When you look at Rafayel, he no longer looks flustered. Replacing his awkward eyes is an intense, focused gaze. You instinctively cover the “drawing” with your palm, but Rafayel’s warm fingers pulls it back.

“This will be my tattoo.” You try to avoid feeling awkward.

He studies the drawing for a few beats. Then intently at your neck.

“Press your ear like this. I want to see the space where this will go.”

Awkwardly, you turn your head and press your ear forward to fold it.

“Is it this ear?”

“Yes.”

“Portrait?”

“Yes, portrait. I want it to be visible.”

You hold the pose for a few more seconds. Rafayel’s silence is making you feel more and more flustered. He exhales, mind in mid-thought.

“What do you think? As an artist?”

“I won’t answer that,” he says earnestly, “but do you want me to change it?”

“Please,” you whisper. “I mean, that’s what the entire conversation earlier was about, anyway. A talented artist to draw my tattoo. Hopefully.”

“I’ll make a few suggestions.”

Rafayel does not take the paper on the sketchbook away from your lap. Instead, he uses the second pencil and draws on it.

This is weird.

The warmness that radiates from him—from his close proximity with you—feels quite comforting. You suddenly remember the mattress of the bed when you used to live with Grandma. It just… it felt nice. You feel your upper body lose its tension.

Plus, you can see the violet strands of his hair up close. It’s a pretty color. Maybe violet will be your favorite color, from now on.

“Here, check this out—”

You snap out of your thoughts, but you do not make it obvious.

Rafayel created two sample tattoos, following at least two of the three lines you drew. It seems like the base for his modification drawings.

“What do you think?”

Your heart starts thumping in your chest like a lion in its cage. There’s a… there’s a rush of excitement in your stomach and in your throat. This is pretty. This is genius. Rafayel is able to turn something amateur into something great and you can’t help but be amazed. “That’s infinitely better, wow!”

“Are you sure? We can do better than that. I mean, this one’s stroke is out of line…”

“Sure, but these are pretty as they are! I must owe you a huge favor for this ‘commission,’ right?”

Something changes in Rafayel’s eyes. He looks a little sheepish. “Actually.”

“Yes?”

“I know what favor to ask of you now.”

“Tell me. Strike while the iron’s hot,” strike while we’re on the topic!

“How open are you to having me as your tattoo artist?”

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moody-alcoholic · 3 months ago

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Cross My Heart

Part 12 - War Crimes

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: +18 content MDNI, Sex, PiV sex. AN: Believe it or not this is still a poly fic, I promise.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

Farah and Alex stick in the woodline, they’re looking out over the building. You’re not really sure you’re going to need them but at least you have backup if you do. This time Soap showed you how to use the radio.

“So what did Price say?” You ask as you walk down the farm.

“They made it across the border, on their way to Volgograd. They’ll be keeping in touch via Laswell.”

“Who’s that?”

“CIA contact.”

“CIA? I thought you were British? What are you doing with the Americans?”

“We go where we’re needed.” He says with a sigh. You shrug as you make it down to the perimeter wall. Soap swings his weapon over his back and pulls himself up to the top of the wall.

“C’mon.” He whispers, leaning back down to offer you his hand. You smile and take it, letting him pull you up to the top of the wall. When you’re on the other side you’re behind one of the garages.

“They store everything in the barn. There’s a loose panel round the back.” You say pointing through the gap between buildings at the massive industrial metal barn. Soap nods, you let him lead skirting round the perimeter of the farm. You use the shadows for cover only moving when you know it’s safe. It doesn’t take you long to reach the barn.

This is too easy, the place has less staff then you’ve seen before. There are still 2 guards on the front doors of the barn.

“Farah, how are we looking?” Soap asks into the radio.

“You’re clear, no movement.” Her voice comes back. Soap looks at you smiling and you push forward hugging the wall as you make it round to the back of the building. Just as you remember there is a loose perplex panel hanging off. Its loud as you move it but you assume the barn is empty on the inside. You’ve been watching it for a few hours before making your move and no one has been going in or out.

When you duck under the gap you come out into the massive barn. Anything that would have made you think this was a cattle barn has been removed. The place is now full of vehicles, ammo and weapons crates, different types of machinery and missiles.

You wait for Soap to come through before follow him over to them. They look new, not like the old soviet ones you’re used to seeing. Some of them even have the American flag printed on them, although most of them have been scraped off or painted over. As you walk round the smaller ones you make it to some bigger ones.

These ones look older, you’re not sure how old though. They’re different then the stuff you’ve ever seen. Soap looks back at you frowning as you follow him over. You walk over to a table with tools on it, there's papers strewn around.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Soap says as his hand runs over one of the missile heads. You look down at the papers, the only thing that sticks out is the yellow and black radiation sign. You swallow hard looking back at the huge missile in front of you.

“Soap. These-” You’re too shocked to speak. You pick up a piece of paper off the table. “These belong to Makarov.”

“Farah, the missions off. We’re leaving, there’s nothing we can do here.” Soap says, you can’t tell if he sounds more angry or sad.

“Why, what's happened? Is the place empty?” She asks. He turns to look at you holding down the button on his radio.

“No, it’s worse. Makarov has nukes.”

“Say again?” Alex asks.

“There’s nuclear warheads here. We can’t do anything without setting them off.” Soap says. You fold the paper up and put it in your pocket.

“Your exit is still clear. Get out of there.” It's almost like she had no emotions about the whole thing.

“Wait.” You say grabbing Soap’s arm. “There has to be a computer here, we can find out what Al Qatala were shipping over the border if it wasn’t missiles.”

“It’s too risky.” He says.

“What if Makarov has nukes in Russia?” You say.

“We’d know if he had nukes in Russia” He says, you let go of his arm and he moves to the exit.

“You didn’t know there were nukes here.” You say.

“It’s not worth the risk, c’mon!” He snaps, reaching out to grab your arm and pull you to the exit. As you let him drag you, you see into a control room.

“Look.” You say digging your heels into the ground to stop him. “There’s a computer, let me check it.” He huffs looking round quickly.

“Quick.” he says, letting go of your arm. You smile and rush in, there’s no login option. You look for anything, something like a spreadsheet or order forms anything you think you could recognise. Finally after what feels like a few minutes you find what looks like an order request. They’ve tried to encrypt it but it must have failed for some reason.

“A few days ago. There was a shipment of warheads and stabilisers.” You say you're trying to translate, you have no idea what stabilisers mean, it’s not really the best translation and you’re being rushed.

“Nukes?” He asks, you look over at him standing guard on the door.

“It doesn’t say.” There’s requests for a bunch of different types of chemicals, names of things you don’t even recognise.

“He’s playing around with chemicals. I don’t know what any of this means.” You say, you see Soap hesitate, looking around before coming over to see. He scans the document for a second before pointing at something.

“Its elements, chlorine, phosphorus, hydrogen.”

“He’s making chemical bombs.” You say as a matter of fact.

“Soap you better be out there you’ve got incoming.” Farah says. Before you even have time to react you hear a door open. You both duck and you hear Arabic voices echo in the massive barn. You start taking your radio off handing it to Soap.

“I’ll distract them, then you can leave.” You whisper.

“Are you crazy, they’ll kill you.” He puts his hand out to stop you.

“I’ve talked myself out of worse situations. I’ve been here before, if they catch you they’ll kill you.” He sighs, taking it in his hands.

“Your weapon too.” He points. You shake your head.

“Might need to shoot my way out if they don’t believe me.” Before Soap can stop you you stand up. “Stay here, I'll get them out.”

“Good luck.” He calls as you make it to the door. You smile at him and walk round the corner where you can hear the voices.

“Finally. Do you know how long I have been looking for someone in this place?” You say walking towards them. Confidence is key, you can do this.

“Stay where you are!” One of them calls, they hold their weapons on you.

“Don’t shoot unless you plan on shipping my body back to Makarov.” You say, they look between themselves for a minute.

“You work for Makarov?” One of them asks.

“He sent me to find out why the next shipment is delayed.” You say putting your hands down and stepping closer to them.

“We’re working on it.” One of them says as they lower their weapons.

“We have half the staff we used to have. Most people have been sent to fight the ULF.” The other one says.

“Do you think I care about your staffing issues? That shipment was needed yesterday.” You say pointing at a random missile. “Who do I need to talk to to get some answers here?”

“We’ll take you.” They say turning. You nod following them out the barn. You don’t want to end up speaking to whoever is in charge, they will definitely be able to sniff you out. You hang back, the people escorting you are two wrapped up in their own conversation to notice you lagging behind.

As soon as they turn a corner you take your chance sneaking through the space between the 2 garages and round the back of the main building. You sneak through a gap in the wall. You hope Soap got out, you head towards the meeting point anyway.

It’s not long before you see Soap step out from behind the trees.

“Thanks.” He says handing you back your radio. You smile at him, putting it back on your hip. A few seconds later Farah and Alex step through the foliage too.

“Is it true they have nukes?” Farah asks, her composure is completely different now.

“Chemical weapons too. They’ve been shipping them into Russia.” Soap says.

“Are you sure?” Alex asks, frowning. “We haven't seen anything.”

“I saw a shipping order.” You reach into your pocket and hand Farah the piece of paper you picked up. She looks at it Alex leans over to look too. Before she has a chance to say anything alarms ring out from the farm. You look over at Soap pressing your lips together.

“Let's get out of here.” Alex calls. You nod and follow them deeper into the woods.

…

You’re not sure why the phone call with Price and Laswell is the most stressful part.

“You did what?” Price snaps.

“It was my idea.” You say, flicking your eyes up to Soap who’s been standing back from the table with his arms crossed, his body language has completely changed. Not the laid back Soap you’re used to saying.

“I don’t bloody care whose idea it was you’re supposed to be resting, recovering before you come out here.” Price lets out a sigh.

“I think we have other things to worry about.” Alex says.

“Alex’s is right. If the US finds out Al Qatala are shipping nukes over the border to Makarov and Konni we’re in trouble.” Laswell says.

“What’s the US’s response going to be to this?” Price asks.

“I don’t know but I would assume they do not want private militias or terrorist organisations having access to such weapons.” Laswell says.

“We don’t need the Americans invading here too.” Farah says.

“They don’t even know yet, but we need to tell them right. We can’t keep this to ourselves?” Alex says.

“No, we don't tell anyone! Not the Americans, not the British. We will deal with this problem ourselves.” Farah says.

“The ULF is not in a position to disarm nuclear warheads.” Laswell says her voice is more stern.

“Won’t make a difference if they’re all being shipped to Russia.” You say.

“We can’t let anymore come through. Whatever Makarov is planning we need to put a stop to it before the next shipment. When is it?” Price asks.

“3 days, although with the security breach it could be moved up.” You say. There’s silence.

“Laswell, any changes in Makarov’s movements?” Price asks after what feels like forever.

“No, as far as I can tell he’s still in Volgograd.” She replies.

“Okay, I’m sending Nikoli to pick you up. He’ll fly you out to Volgograd.” Price says, you look round at everyone. There’s a new person now, Nikoli.

“Copy.” Soap says. It’s the first time you’ve heard him speak since he finished explaining everything to Price.

“In the meantime stay put. I can’t be worrying about you getting yourselves killed.” Price says. “Send Laswell everything you know, we’ll speak soon.” There's a click on the line.

“The data you got from the base on the border arrived yesterday. I can go through it, I'll have what you asked for by tomorrow.” Laswell says.

“Thank you.” Farah says, before ending the call. You look over at Soap, he seems disappointed about something.

“You should get some rest.” Farah says her eyes flicking to Soap. You move over to him resting your hand on his arm.

“Let’s go. We should get something to eat at least.” You say looking up at him. His eyes land on you but they seem dark, distant. You don’t know if it's about the nukes or the response from Price but you’ve not seen him like this before. He nods and turns to leave.

He’s quiet while you get something to eat. Pushing food around his tray while you inhale whatever mush they’re serving. You talk, if not just to fill the dead air, you’re sure he’s heard some of the stuff before but he doesn’t even complain.

“I’m going to take a shower.” He says suddenly before getting up and moving away before you have a chance to say anything. You look down at the uneaten food on his tray.

…

You’re laid in the shared dorm room staring at the ceiling trying to think what he’s sad about. Or maybe he is just mad, maybe when he gets mad he goes silent. You feel like you don’t know him enough to judge him, or analyse him. A door opens and some people walk in, stripping their coats off and kicking off boots.

You turn over in bed trying to ignore the noise and turning on of lights. You’re not going to be comfortable here, you’re not going to be able to sleep. Not with everything going on in your head, and now all you can think about is Johnny.

You swing yourself out the cot pulling your boots back on and heading out the room with your coat tucked under your arm.

Johnny got his own room, maybe it’s because of his status, maybe it’s because Farah likes them. Whatever the reason, you would rather be with him then where you are right now.

When you make it to his door you hesitate, he told you where he was staying before you left. You let out a sigh and knock. You wait a few seconds before it opens, he’s standing there topless with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay?” You ask, swallowing the nerves.

“Are you?” He asks. You nod, he steps to the side inviting you in. As soon as you’re through the threshold his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you against him.

“You’ve been quiet. Are you upset about something?” You ask, throwing your jacket over the chair. He lets out a long sigh burying his head in your neck. He doesn’t say anything, his hands running up your side, his touch is soft against your skin.

“Was it what Price said?” You ask, he spins you in his arms. You press up against him, his cheeks are flushed. He reaches down and kisses you. His hands run up your shirt to your breasts. You put your arms up in the air breaking from the kiss so he can pull your shirt over your head.

His kisses get deeper, more needy, his tongue running over your neck, across your collar bones. You moan out for him, his hands slipping past your waist band gently pulling your trousers down. His mouth locks round one of your nipples. He hums, nibbling and flicking your nipple. You push one of your hands through his hair.

“Christ love, fuckin’ sweet as sugar.” He breathes, dropping to his knees and looking up at you. Looking up at you with those deep blue eyes. His lips wet and shining as he pulls your trousers down. You spread your legs for him, as much as you can. He kisses your stomach, his hands grip your ass digging his fingers into the soft flesh.

His mouth continues to move down, his tongue hot, pressing against your skin, he moans and you continue to run your fingers through his hair.

“Johnny, bed.” You say. He looks up at you, one of your hands drops to stroke his cheek. He slowly stands back up until he’s towering above you. Your hands drop down to the front of his pants fiddling with his belt buckle.

He slowly starts to move you over to the bed, as soon as you reach it you gently push him down. He bounces on the cot, his mouth tipping open. You take a step back kicking your boots off and stepping out your trousers.

“Lay down.” You say. He follows swinging his legs into the bed and laying flat with his head on the pillows. “Think we’ll get interrupted this time?”

“Did you lock the door?” he asks, nodding towards it. You turn, going over and securing the latch. When you look back round he’s shimmed his bottoms off laying naked in the bed. You watch as his hand strokes up and down his cock exposing the red tip. You walk over to him, you swing your legs over him kneeling on his thighs. You replace his hands with yours, his head tips back as you slowly shuffle closer to his hips.

You don’t know if you’re helping, but this is the most vocal he’s been since you got back. You kneel up and he opens his eyes watching as you hover above him stroking up and down his cock. You smile at him before you ease yourself down on him.

He lets out a groan, his hands coming to rest on your thighs. They run up and down as you slowly begin to ride him. It doesn’t take you long to get into a steady rhythm, he watches you, his hands gripping you tighter and tighter with each thrust.

His gentle moans turning into grunts and pants. Before long you’re panting along with him, your heart starts beating faster in your chest. He feels good, the last person you had sex with was Ivan and that was nothing like this. It was just a transaction, this is different, he’s reacting to you, his touch is soft as is his gaze, his moans.

It makes you work harder, leaning over to run your hands over his chest, he has scars, a particularly nasty looking on his shoulder. Probably a bullet, you run your fingers over one on his chest.

“Make a habit out of getting shot?” You ask him between pants.

“Not really, just end up in sticky situations.” He says. You reach down and kiss him, rocking your hips on him. He breaks from the kiss, tipping his head back.

“Christ, perfect love.” He says, letting out a long breath. He’s bucking his hips in time with you. You’re getting close, the new angle pressing against the spongy spot inside you. You close your eyes arching your back trying not to dig your nails into him.

He grips you tighter, he’s getting closer, so are you. You sit back up straight bracing your hands on his chest. You moan with him, letting him control the speed with his hands gripping your thighs.

“Jesus.” He arches his back as he cums. You feel him throb inside you, he stops moving as you ride him through the orgasm, it only feels like a few seconds later when you cum to the feeling of him filling you up pushes you over the edge.

You fall against him, laying on his chest. He wraps his arms around you and turns you in the bed, when he slips out of you, you feel empty. He kisses your forehead then you turn over on your back.

He does the same letting out a long breath. He reaches down and pulls the blanket over you both, you turn to lean up against his chest wrapping your arm round his stomach.

“It wasn’t what Price said. He’s not really angry. He doesn't get angry anymore, at least not with us.” He says after a few seconds, his hand runs down your back.

“Leaving you at the farm. Not knowing if you would get out or not.” You look up at him. “You could have died.”

“So could you.” You say, you don’t know if that will help or not but it’s all you can think to say, you're surprised he even cared. “Besides I would have got out.”

“You’re too cocky, it’ll get you killed.” He says.

“You’re a soldier, you literally put your life on the line every day.” You scoff back.

“We’re trained.”

“Me too, in another world maybe I would have been like you.” You say running your hand across his chest.

“You served?”

“Military service is mandatory in Urzikstan.” You shrug.

“Not really your thing?” He asks.

“I’m not good at following orders. Used to being alone. I learned a long time ago that people you love can hurt you the most.” You sigh resting your head against his chest. He chuckles.

“What?” You ask.

“I know someone who said something similar to me once.” He says he tightens his arm around you.

“Yeah?” You ask, sleepy.

“Yeah, I think you’d like him.”

“Maybe one day I’ll meet.” You say relaxing against him. He kisses the top of your head.

“Yeah, maybe one day you will.”

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dutiful-wildcraft · 5 months ago

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Life's Sweet Bells

A COD Farm Sim AU with some omegeverse splashed in!

Meet the Town!

John Soap Mactavish - Clean and green, with a scent like shortbread and rose, you can see how the wiley alpha Soap got his nickname. Soap runs the neighboring livestock farm. Soap specializes in critters big and small, from velvety eared rabbits to towering horses. He prides himself in his work, and his animals usually run best in show for the town's yearly festivals. When not at the farm, Soap can be seen chatting it up at the blacksmith's or having an evening pint at the inn. With a friendly smile and sunkissed skin, could Soap be your first friend??

John Price. Or rather Captain, formerly. John is an alpha that once ran the town's mines with a tight efficiency. Slaying the monsters therein and emerging with jewels and ores a plenty. Since the town's devastating earthquake the mines have since been closed. John stubbornly remains, clearing the mines on his own. Though his ink and coffee scent permeates the artifacts wing of the local museum, a responsibility he shares with Alex. John is considered an expert in monsters and hidden treasures. During down time John is down at the docks with Farah and Nik.

Simon Ghost Riley. Formerly Price's right hand in the mines, and now the town's blacksmith, Ghost stands tall and aloof. Pale arms lined with scars, and soot stained fingertips. Some say his room is lined with awards for his craft. Ghost can make anything, and is responsible for a lot of specialty items for the whole village, special swords and crossbows for Price. Stronger tools and equipment for Gaz. He doesn't say much to you when you show up, and you assume the mask is to protect his face, though he never takes it off. What's more odd is the syrupy sweet scent buried under all the brimstone.

Kyle Gaz Garrick. Kyle is a master of his craft and does the bulk of the repairs and renovations around the village. (As well as some of its more charming cosmetics) With the help of Ghost and Price, Gaz is slowly but surely piecing the town back together after the earthquake. Kyle is renown in town for his delicate work and eye for detail. Despite popular beliefs Kyle is a calm and laid back Alpha, with a fresh and citrusy scent that's almost hypnotic. Kyle is one of the first to come to the new farm, providing a few extra tools he had laying around to help you get started. He's ecstatic to have a new face around town!

Nikolai? Nobody seems to know his last name, but he seems to be well liked in town. Nikolai was once a traveling merchant, never staying in one place for too long. He made his way by selling rare and unique wares. Since the earthquake the alpha has settled in town on a more permanent basis. Nik now runs a beautifully crafted bathhouse so those hard workers of the village can rest their weary bones, while still having a handful of new and rare items to sell each week. There seems to be more to the alpha that meets the eye.

Kate Laswell. Kate is the town physician. A no nonsense beta who is chronically scraping townsfolk off the ground when they fail to take care of themselves properly. She's lovely, but so very tired. When Kate isn't at the clinic she assists her wife with running the inn.

Farah is a fisherman extraordinaire, and has been a godsend with getting supplies in and out of the village while the bridges were out. While Farah doesn't brag, tales of her adventures are written on the scars on her toned tanned arms. While goods and services aren't her day to day now, Farah still heads out on her boat each day with Alex in tow.

Alex is responsible for a bulk of the collections at the museum, and when he's not there, he helps Farah out on the docks. In his downtime Alex writes stories down on the well worn pages of his journal. Harrowing tales of a strong and fearless pirate who saves the day again and again. So what if the long braided heroin resembles someone familiar?

(Not sure how deep in the weeds i'll go with this, but I'm having fun, I would love to make it a little series)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #john price #task force 141 #nikolai cod #farm sim au #wildcraft writing #farah karim #alex keller #kate laswell #Life's Sweet Bells

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alkelkha · 5 months ago

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𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter two

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

❛❛ CRASHLANDIN' ON YA' ❜❜

a shooting star was your first impression of it.

the past week had been terrible; there were no bonfires on the beach this time because everyone was at the town center celebrating for whatever reason. you stumbled onto the beach sand and stayed on the ground coughing hysterically.

sand stuck to your wet body and hair. you were so tired you could barely keep your head up. what was this, the third time you’ve been waterboarded? but hey, who’s keeping count? this is the price that comes with being a good person. curiosity killed the cat, and it was going to get you killed one day.

you’ve accepted it— death, and if you were going to die, it might as well be for something cool like trying to take down the gang that has your home in a chokehold. what’s so wrong with wanting to go out a hero?

then that’s when you saw it. a bright white star rushing away in the sky.

the perfect time to make a wish! you folded your hands together and closed your eyes.

star… make my life worth more than this.

you opened your eyes and the star was…coming towards you?

your eyes widened, and you booked it off the sandy territory, losing balance every now and then. dunking and hiding behind the concrete wall that separated the beach from everything else, you covered your ears. the debris covered the portion of the beach, some even thrown over your head.

you kept your eyes closed for a long time before noticing the orange hue of the flames. getting up from your hiding spot and walking towards the destruction. there wasn’t much fire so those would be easy to put out. the fire wasn’t your concern though, it was what you would find. was someone there? are they alive?

coughing and waving your hand in front of your face to wave out the smoke, you finally found someone. they were crawling away from the rubble. you run over to them, but just as you get there their body has already gone limp. it was a female your age, the prettiest shade of blue you’ve ever seen, with a purple streak.

you knelt down and scooped her up in your arms, the stranger in your arms was light— and you had the strength of the average woman.

overtime the locals got her settled down, and she became flosnum’s talk of the town. apparently, there were three other people in the blimp that crashed but didn’t survive. not that the blue-haired mystery woman would know since she spent the majority of her time being nursed back to health and secluding herself from the rest of the world in her new complementary flosnum home. flosnum has had a huge population surge which meant a lot more houses and some left vacant.

as creepy as it sounds, you couldn’t stop thinking about thinking about her. washing dishes? thinking of her. bartending? thinking of her blue hair. staying at that boring shop filled with gunk? thinking about what kind of person she is.

it’s safe to say she lived in your mind rent-free. you couldn’t help it; she just seemed so cool! coming from the times you’ve been able to catch a glimpse of her. she dressed so strangely, too. you wanted to ask her so many things. where was she from? is her hair naturally blue? is her favorite color blue? what does she like?

just what kind of person was she?

the first time you were able to formally meet her was two days ago.

TINKETTES: SCRAPS & PARTS

leon, the old man who owned this place, had died. rest in peace. he left behind a museum of metal scrapes, tools, wires, and a whole bunch of other stuff that you didn’t understand. the only reason you were tending to it was because leon was the bar owner’s brother and he said he would give you a raise if you did this one favor for him.

in the back area for employees only, you threw a ball at the wall and caught it. you did that a couple hundred times before you heard the windchimes sung. someone was here? nobody ever visited.

trying to get out of the chair too fast, you ended up falling on your side. you opened the door to find her, of all people.

you swear you’re not a creep, but just from her backview, she was gorgeous. you wondered what she looked like with long hair.

"need help with anything?”

it was a normal day at the ‘SEVEN CHIMES’ (aka the pub). mindlessly placing drinks down in front of customers, you barely registered your coworker’s call for you. “[name]!” you turn around and run over to the counter.

“yeah?”

“big don wants to see you after your shift.” stella states as she mixes a drink. a warning. a sharp chill went down your spine, maintaining a smile, you nod.

shit. what was it now? had you not already paid enough money for the month? or was it the incident with the pervert customer?

you spent the rest of your shift with a gaping pit in your stomach. serving drinks, rowdy customers, talks about the mysterious blue-haired girl.

walking into big don’s office felt like walking into a dark room: ensure of what you would be greeted with. “stella said you needed me?” the sickly pale man, but not thin, leaned back in his chair with a dice between his fingers. his other hand tapped the desk, staring directly at you. “did i not give you a task?”

straighten your posture and answer “you… you did! you told me to hurry up and—“

“—get rid of the shop.” he finishes your sentence. “yes. yes, i did say that, yet i have not seen any progress.”

“i…” your throat felt dry. terribly dry. fidgeting with your hands you finally gain the courage to speak. “i did! i mean i am close to doing so— a girl wanted the shop.”

he nods slowly, rubbing his chin. “…good…good…” big don leans closer to his desk. “you still have to pay for your recent accident, you are aware of that, correct?”

“yes sir,” you respond nodding frantically.

letting out a small mocking huff his eyes finally turn away from him. “you’re lucky, you did something good. i’m not as angry as i was before.” he waves his hand to shoo her away. “i will deal with you some other time.”

wasting no time you got out of the office.

you were going to kill him one day.

you didn't dwell on it too much. that wasn’t your thing— as a matter of fact, that was the only thing keeping her alive. it happens, and then it passes over, no need to dwell on it [name]. patting your head (which stella points out to be a nervous tick), you waited for the blue-haired beauty.

she was cute and all, but she seriously needed to hurry up and appear so she could give her the keys to this place. if she didn’t, you would die (half joking). thinking about it… did you say that you would come to her or for her to come to you? you honestly couldn’t remember.

letting out a groan, you put your hands on your face. if you keep looking at the same weirdly bent metal scrap, you are going to lose your shit.

great, now you had to get up.

was walking around flosnum begging people for the tiny pieces of information they had on bluey beauty odd? yes, next question.

if you had to walk another ten minutes in the scorching hot sun, you would melt. being on the verge of heat stroke, you place your hand over your forehead to block the sun and lose your balance a bit, walking backward. you felt your back hit someone.

“oopsie daisy!” the person said in surprise.

turning around to apologize, your eye widens, “bluey!”

she looked less… sad and more alive the last time you saw her. there was neon splatted all over her clothes, and a sparkle in her pink eyes twinkled. she then narrowed at the sight of you, “you…” she was holding a box inside her left arm and was licking an ice cream.

you grab onto her shoulders, “i was looking everywhere for you!” you felt like you could finally breathe without having to worry about dying the next day.

“you were?” she tilts her head, confused about why someone would look for her.

you wrap an arm around her shoulder, she tries to move away from you. normally, you would care about being impolite, but you were on the verge of fainting. “surprise surprise, you got the shop!” you jingle the keys in front of her face. “please, move in as soon as possible.” you said smiling, she finally slips away from your grasp causing you to stumble a bit.

her full frame was now in your view. she was slim, toned core and arms, had an awesome tattoo, and was really pale— too pale for a place like this; some woman would die to have that body.

“gonna give me those keys, or was your real plan just to check me out?” she continues to lick her ice cream. shaking your head, you toss the keys to her. she catches the keys “thanks for the candy, stranger. it really helped a girl out.” she says with her back turned walking away from you.

wait wait. no, that’s not how it’s supposed to go. yeah, you were supposed to give her the keys, but you were hoping for a conversation longer than 30 seconds. okay maybe you were hoping way more than that… maybe being friends or something like that.

jogging up to her pace, you walk alongside her. “so!” you try to keep the conversation going. she furrowed her brows at you, either confused or annoyed by your attempt. “i was thinking since you’re new and everything that maybe you’d need a friend.”

at first, she slowed down and she just stared. not at you. it was like she was lost in her mind. “a friend, huh?” her voice lowered, “sorry, toots, i don’t do friends.”

jinx didn’t do friends.

she didn’t need for them. the closest thing she had to a friend was sevika, and she wasn’t even a friend she was more like… an annoying aunt.

they didn’t last.

besides… who would want to deal with her? vi didn’t, silco only made her condition worse, she always felt like a chore to sevika, and ekko… boy genius was too good for her. jinx wasn't who he wanted.

powder cleaned up the shop (by cleaning up, she put all the junk in the employee room). it felt nice to clean up; it was like her body was moving on auto-pilot just like it had been doing for the past two days. everything felt like an out-of-body experience after the numbness she felt the first month she had got here.

she grabbed a teddy bear out of the box and tied it up to the ceiling. for some reason, she kept the nagging thing around; powder kept sweeping up the place, “tidying” it up to her liking.

why do you keep pushing everyone away?

“shut up.” powder didn’t have the patience for it.

why do you keep pushing everyone away?

her grip tightened around the broomstick. “was me tying a noose around your neck not enough?”

why do you keep pushing everyone away? why do you keep pushing everyone away? why do you keep pushing everyone away? why do you keep pushing everyone away? why do you keep pushing everyone away?

because you’re a jinx.

jinx reached to her hip to grab her gun to shoot the annoying bear. of course, there was no gun to pull out from a holster. there was no reason to have one in a place like this. old habits die hard.

because everyone who gets close to you dies.

jinx.

dropping the broom, she turned on her heel and faced the teddy bear, “i’m not a jinx!” her shout seemed to snap her back to reality. it was quiet. so quiet that she was able to hear her own heavy breathing. “not… not anymore…” her eyes were fixed on the bear.

“i left all of that behind.” her raspy voice cracked, arguing with it. “it’s safe here, no danger!” she took strides to the annoyance, “no reason for someone around me to die this time!” she ripped the bear off of the noose, its head coming off.

so why do you keep pushing everyone away?

even with its head rolled on the floor it still tried to get its point across.

if she was right. if she believed everything she just said, why did she keep pushing people away? there’s no reason to be scared of losing someone; there’s no danger here.

jinx dropped the bear and turned around to get back to cleaning up. she crouched down to pick up the broom but her red-violet eyes caught something. a sticky note.

ONLY COSTS FIVE!

with a turtle drawn as a signature. she dropped her broom and dashed out of the shop.

powder wasn’t sure what the plan was, maybe there was no plan to begin with. she wanted to talk to you— to change her answer. she did want to be friends. she needed to get it off her chest because what if she waits too long and you don’t want to be friends anymore? what if you forget you even asked her? what if you didn't mean it?

she was on her way to find you at the bar (like you said for her to find you). on her way there she saw a bright light reflection of a bronze turtle necklace. she got cold feet.

odd.

very odd.

jinx never felt like this. why was telling someone you want to be friends so hard?

all of this leads to now, her stalking you, watching you from rooftops. it wasn’t her initial intention! she just panicked. it was night; it was the perfect time for stalking anyway. jinx followed you. the paths you took were odd. just where were you heading?

an alleyway. alleyways in flosnum were nothing like zaun; they were dimly lit, painted murals with vines, and flowers blooming from the cracked cement, making it their home.

two men walk up to you. “you know we don’t want to do this.” one of them says sympathetically. you didn’t seem surprised; it was like you were expecting them.

“kiss my ass.” you bit back then a palm connected with your right cheek.

oh.

this was not what powder was expecting.

a fight broke out. for a young woman, you sure were holding your ground against two muscled middle-aged men. you certainly weren’t the most skilled person jinx had seen fight, but you made the most of what you could with your frame. jinx debated on whether she should help you out or not. you were obviously going to lose, as of now, you had it in the bag.

that was until one of them took hold of your hair behind you. the other man spit out the blood from his mouth onto the cement. “stop fighting back and just take the punishment.” he raised his fist and punched you in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you completely.

he winds up his fist again and you prepare yourself for the impact.

you then saw a streak of pink. it shimmered. there was no longer a man; there was a woman, strands of blue and purple peeking out of the hood.

wait a minute… you looked down to see the man underneath her feet. did she just land on him? “what the fuck…” your eyes trail back up to the woman.

“yes, yes, give it up for your hero.” jinx spreads out her arms, waiting for applause. before you could say anything, she was already off the man and gone from your view. you no longer felt a tight grip on your hair and stumbled forward.

the man backed up “who the hell—“ jinx lashes out a well-aimed kick to the man’s head, his head collides with the alleyway wall and turns into a limp.

it was over so quickly. your arm still wrapped around your stomach. the woman’s hood falls, though you already had a good guess on who it was, her pink eyes fixated on you.

not knowing what to do, you speak up. “were you stalking me?”

“seriously? no, thank you?”

“oh, of course, where are my manners? my knight in shining armor, thank you ever so much!” your words dripping with sarcasm a smirk gracing your lips.

“damn right, toots.” with her hands clasped behind her back she strolled toward you, her hips swaying with each stride. as she stopped directly in front of you her shimmering eyes darted around you nervously. “yes.”

confused at the simple word, you tilt your head, trying to make sense of it. her irises dilated.

“I want to be friends.” sparkling doe eyes met with yours briefly before darting away.

not knowing how to react, you spoke up, “did you come all this way to say that?” great working [name], you just ruined your chance of becoming friends with the cool blue-haired beauty.

seeing your mistake, you shook your head, recognizing how much of a poor choice of words that was. “shit, sorry.“ now she was leaning toward you she was close. so close. her face was just mere inches away from yours. “shut up and let me say this.”

yes ma’am.

getting out of your face, jinx tries to stand up straight. “i’m a handful— more than that. I just want you to know what you are getting yourself before…”

this was when you realized that powder wasn’t mysterious for the aesthetic. not because she was some attention seeker like some locals would say. not because she was a loser. powder had a past that genuinely haunted her. those eyes carried a lifetime of pain and the way her shoulders were slumped made her seem exhausted.

you didn’t know why she was she looked so drained. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to find out. despite her weary demeanor, she was still reaching out, still holding on, and you were willing to take her hand because if anything she it looked like she needed this more than you.

you wanted a cool friend. jinx needed a friend.

before jinx could continue speaking, you blurt out, “when do you want to hang out?” jinx wasn’t sure if she should smack you upside the head for interrupting her or if she should blow something up out of excitement… so she stared at you. fireworks seemed to pop behind her eyes.

“right now.” powder grabbed your hand in a swift motion, her grip firm yet fearful. the action causing you to pivot in the direction she was taking you. now running, she pulled you along with her. powder didn’t know where she was running, she just needed to get the jitters out of her with you at her side.

ignoring the fact your legs felt like jelly because of the recent fight you smile, “i still don’t know your name!” laughing into the breeze that rushes through your hair.

glancing back at you, jinx caught sight of your smile. as if the upturn of your lips were a virus, a smile tugged onto her lips. “i’ll tell you when i’m ready.” jinx’s words echoed behind them.

“alright, baby blue.”

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed

i am open to ideas for my next chapter! the chapter is full of fluff of them getting to know each other. its structure is split into weeks. week one: blah blah blah. week two: blah blah blah. week three: blah blah blah.

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x you #jinx x fem!reader #arcane x reader #jinx x y/n #wlw fanfic #arcane jinx x reader #x black reader #black reader #x black fem reader #jinx x blkfem!reader #elka's shop #jinx arcane x reader

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wdg-blog · 8 months ago

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Web scraping, also known as web data extraction, is the process of automatically collecting and organizing data from websites. This data can be anything from product listings and pricing on e-commerce sites to news articles and social media posts.

#data extraction #web data extraction #monitoring competitor prices #web scrapping #web scrapers #web scraping tool #web scraping

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retailgators · 1 year ago

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How to Scrape Product Ranking from E-commerce Giants to Unlock Hidden Insights?

Unleash the power of product data scraping on Amazon, Flipkart, BigBasket, and Blinkit. Discover data-driven strategies and insights that help develop your products.

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Product rankings often change due to the number of people searching for a product, how well it's selling, and its reviews. They can also change based on how each platform's system ranks things, considering everything from price and customer ratings to how well the seller is doing and how users behave on the platform. Scraping tools can help determine where a product stands in the search results according to specific words people search for or categories.

Product Ranking Insights From E-Commerce Data Scraping

Scrape product data from e-commerce platforms like Amazon, Flipkart, BigBasket, and Blinkit to gain valuable insights into customers' preferences in their respective industries. Monitoring the rankings of competitor products can also show their product performance and the success of their marketing campaigns.

Conclusion

This data can help businesses fine-tune their strategies to edge over competitors. Retailgators is a reliable retail data scraper that provides accessible and actionable e-commerce data to help businesses. We provide real-time data from dynamic sites like Amazon, Flipkart, BigBasket and Blinkit. You concentrate on your product ranking and leave the product data scraping to us.

#data scraping services #product data scraping #ecommerce data scraping tool #competitive pricing #Web Scraping API #brand monitoring services

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thanksbutno98 · 2 years ago

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hey I just wanted to say I absolutely love your stories and you're an amazing writer!

I saw you're having a hard time finding inspiration so maybe something like a really hot and young guy flirts with the reader, John gets really insecure because he's older and reader decides to remind him just how hot he is ;) doesn't have to be nsfw if you're uncomfortable with that.

Anywho, hope you have a wonderful day and can't wait to read anything you come up with

Jealousy

John Price x fem!reader

Authors Note: thank you so much for your wonderful idea! I used a bit of inspiration form another request to write this. It’s a bit of a dive back into the start of John and Indy’s relationship. This post was giving me such a hard time to post so it’s not my best quality purely based off frustration.

Summary: A day of shopping with your children turns awry when John Price meets your ex for the first time.

Warnings: sexual themes, mention of cheating, insecurities, severely not edited.

——————

Silky fabric slipped through your fingers as you continued to pushed clothes aside. The hangers scraped against the cool metal hanging racks as you searched for the appropriate size. Pulling out the white Hawaiian shirt that was decorated in pineapples you turned to your husband with a bright smile. Holding it up and seeing if it suited him.

You could see John was trying to light the shirt ablaze with his fiery gaze. He knew better than to argue with you over clothes since you constantly told him how poor his fashion sense was. Begging him to branch out a bit from flannels, quarter zips, and plain t-shirts and jeans.

Looking him over with the shirt still in hand you shook your head and frowned. It wasn’t the right one so you continued your search for some pleasant beach attire for your husband. John sighed in relief not having fallen victim to you dressing him up. Although those obnoxious light blue swim trunks with flamingos on them were going to find there way back on a hanger when you weren’t looking.

Today was the day you had dragged your whole family out to go shopping. The kids needed new clothes and you needed a few odds and ends. The department store had everything you could think of and your husband was dreading it along with his son. This meant you would end up with things that weren’t even on your list, like a shirt for John. He had half a mind to go look at the power tools since you were getting out of hand.

John was dressed in jeans and a fitted black quarter zip that he had pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. His facial hair was freshly manicured and he smelled of cedar and spearmint. Lily was strapped into the baby carrier on his chest and babbling away, occasionally tugging on John’s facial hair which would make him wince but he didn’t do much about it.

Evelyn and Jj had been subjected to try on outfit after outfit. Evelyn loved every second of it. Strutting around and modeling the clothes for you all. Jj on the other hand was entering into an age where he hated everything you picked out for him. Deciding to let him choose his own clothes which you and John were internally cringing at. He was getting his sense of style from his father which wasn’t saying much. So far Jj insisted on camouflage cargo pants, a jean jacket and kept looking through hats unable to find one he loved.

The tapping of small feet caught your attention as you watched your daughter zoom through the clothing racks. She had her favorite red sweatshirt on and galaxy leggings. You had let her and Jj roam around the toy and video game section while you and John finished up the shopping.

“Can I get this?” Evelyn was holding up a small Lego set.

It was the Harry Potter hospital set that your daughter had been eyeing for months. You thought about it for a moment seeing no problem with spending the money since you had gotten a hefty bonus at work. The word ‘yes’ was on the tip of your tongue but before you could say a word your husband interjected.

“No. You hardly pick up your legos as is.” John had a straight face and you knew exactly what was on his mind.

The previous night John had stepped on a stray Lego in the living room. You could have sworn he had gotten shot with how he hollered in pain. The man complained so much he claimed they were more effective than landmines or he could start using them as shrapnel in grenades. You could only roll your eyes at his dramatics and asked in a condescending way if he needed a med evac. You two ended up bickerimg about it until you both realized how childish you were being. Ending up cuddling on the couch and making up from the silly spat by taking turns rubbing the others feet.

“But it would be so cool if Danny came over and put it together with me.” Evelyn pleaded with her father. Taking the box and showing him and then babbling about how cool it looked.

You watched as John’s eye twitched in annoyance. Evelyns new best friend was a boy named Danny who just moved in down the street. They had become thick as thieves and played every day they could and rode their bikes around together. It was cute because the boy had the biggest crush on your daughter and the first two times he had come over he had a flower for you and one for Evelyn. It was common to see him a few times a week he even had dinner with you from time to time and Evelyn would at his house too.

Dannys father joked about young love which John did not appreciate. Shooting the comment down and saying his daughter wasn’t in love. You later lectured John to stop being overprotective the two kids were seven it was an innocent crush that you weren’t even sure your daughter reciprocated. It had gone so far Jj was becoming skeptical of Danny and you were convinced John told your son to keep an eye on the young boy so there was ‘no funny buisness’ as John liked to say.

“Why don’t you put it in the carriage for now. We’ll think on it. Look at me Evie that doesn’t mean yes.” You were bending down to her level to make it clear to your daughter. She smiled sweetly then gave you her signature puppy dog face.

“Okay, mummy! Can I keep looking at the toys?” She asked, her small hands clasped as she swayed back and forth looking incredibly cute.

“Go for it.” You laughed and watched as she skipped away from you and your husband, leaving the clothing section and going off to explore.

“You’re spoiling her.” John reminded you.

“I know but I can’t help it. We both grew up with so little don’t you want to see them have the things that we could never have?” You asked batting your eyes up at your husband. It was now your mission to get him to agree with buying this Lego set.

John’s stern expression faltered for a moment. Seeing you all doe eyed and looking up at him as if he had hung the moon and the stars had his heart rate picking up slightly. You were so pretty with your hair tied back and in the scoop neck, long sleeve sweater dress, that hugged your body perfectly. John loved being as tall as he was because it gave a perfect vantage point to see right down your dress and admire your cleavage. That’s when John realized what you were doing and his eyes narrowed. Your arms were pressing your breasts together in an attempt to seduce him. You were trying to play him and get what you wanted by using your feminine charm, and it almost worked.

“You’re tricks aren’t going to work on me today.” John quipped. You pretended to be disappointed, pouting slightly and sighing in a pathetic way as if you’d been beaten.

“Am I wrong though?” You asked in mock sadness. John could only chuckle at your display. A smile peaking through your charade.

“No, you’re not. But if we buy it she should do some extra things around the house to earn it.” Wrapping his arm around your shoulders John pulled you close and kissed the top of your head. You smiled brightly up at him.

“Fair enough.” Your words were chipper. Standing on your toes and kissing John’s cheek sweetly and giving him a seductive wink. You giggled as your husband slyly grabbed a handful of your ass.

“I’m going to go look at a few more things if you wanna take a walk.” With a smile you pointed in the direction of beauty department.

“Yeah, hopefully a walk will put this little one to sleep.” John peered down at Lilly who was staring at him and blinking slowly, her eyes clearly heavy.

You and John walked out of the clothes section and parted ways. John took the carriage and looked over his shoulder so he could check out your ass as you walked away. That’s when John noticed a group of about five university aged boys pointing at his darling wife clearly enamored by you. One of the boys gestured in a way that made it seem like your ass was perfectly round, which John agreed it was but still he didn’t like anyone else noticing. Another shoved a tall lanky kid as if to get him to go up and talk to you but you were already gone. John memorized their faces in case he needed to do anything about their crude behavior. When they saw John staring they were quick to shuffle away.

It always made John incredibly angry when other men ogled you or acted in a perverted way. The fact you were beautiful and sexy as hell was one of the reasons John couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He benefited from it greatly and you were just as enamored by him. That didn’t stop the wariness John felt.

There had been multiple occasions when men had cornered you or made you feel threatened and it sickened John. Your sweet nature usually got you into a bit of trouble with gross men and your feisty attitude could only go so far. It was concerning at times.

By the time you made it to the beauty section your phone had dinged. Opening the new text message from your husband you laughed out loud.

‘Those uni boys were checking out your ass. Let me know if you need back up.’

‘Only you can handle all this ;)’ You texted back.

You giggled as you typed away on your phone. John responded with a simple ‘ok’ which wasn’t surprising. That man was a horrible texter and couldn’t be bothered to learn how tone works through text. You went back to searching for the brand of deodorant you liked and then makeup wipes. It didn’t take long before you were heading to the toy section to gather both your children and go find John.

“Y/N?” A distantly familiar voice called your name. You knew that voice you just couldn’t quite place who’s it was. Turning your eyes immediately fell to your husband about 15 yards away who was waving and pointing down at Lily to signal she had fallen asleep. But it wasn’t John’s voice you heard. Turning slightly your eyes became as big as saucers. In front of you stood Hugh your ex boyfriend from right before you met John.

Hugh looked almost exactly the same only aged a bit. His curly jet black hair was gelled back, a single curl coming loose and falling just above his eyebrow. He was dressed in jeans, work boots, and a leather jacket. That’s when you remembered he rode a moter cycle. It was strange seeing bits of grey in his hair and lines on his forehead. His green eyes were still bright and he still stood much taller than you. With outstretched arms he motioned for a hug, his body still looking toned and athletic. It had you feeling strange that he was still so handsome. That’s when the thought of who he was as a person came flooding back.

You couldn’t help the sour face you gave him. The smile on his face dropping as he realized you weren’t happy to see him after so many years. With an awkward laugh Hugh slowly dropped his arms to his side.

“You’re still a knockout, Y/N. I’m sorry for how shitty things ended. I was a real prick.” The way he complimented your appearance with his thick Yorkshire accent didn’t come off crude and that was his type of charm. Flirting in the most innocent way that could be misconstrued as friendliness. It made your skin crawl.

“Honestly I’m happy you were a prick. I wouldn’t have met my husband if you weren’t.” You gave him a forced smile. It felt better to show off your happiness than to show how much you didn’t want to see him.

“Oh, woah. Congrats, that’s amazing for you. He’s a lucky guy.” Hugh looked you up and down again his eyes lingering a second to long on your chest. You didn’t know it but he was wondering how your breasts had gotten so much bigger.

“I am.” John’s thick voice cut in, a bit more gravely than usual. He sounded like he did after chain smoking or when he first woke up in the morning.

John wasn’t too sure how intimidating he looked with a sleeping baby strapped to his chest or a carriage filled with pink and purple clothing for Evelyn and a breast pump since yours broke the previous day.

When John saw you look this guy up and down, frown and then give a snarky expression so openly, he was hustling over. John had no clue who this man was or what he said but John was still on guard from the university boys from earlier. It also didn’t help this man is what he thought most women would consider conventionally attractive.

“Holly shit. You’re a mum?” The look of surprise made John’s grip tighten on the carriage.

“Yeah, John and I have three. John, this is Hugh. Hugh, John.” You gave John a simple smile eyes communicating everything as you held contact for a second longer than usual. John had heard the name before having told about this long ago while you two were only first dating.

“Nice, to meet you mate.” You watched as they shook hands and you knew they were both death gripping the others. John was instantly pissed off to have this prick trying to grip his hand so tightly. Maybe you had a type. Over protective, calm and collected, tall, British men. Sprinkle in a little bit of a prideful ego and a need for dominance.

“Seem surprised, Y/N’s a mum.” John couldn’t help but challenge Hugh’s former comment. His eyes were narrowed and you could see them both standing a bit straighter and sizing the other up. You wanted to roll your eyes at these two who were getting into a pissing contest. You were married for Christ sake it’s not like there was anything to worry about. John had his ‘claim’ over you, it was sitting on your ring finger and strapped to his chest.

“Ah, she just didn’t want kids I thought.” Hugh said a bit hesitantly. It was a rude thing to say in front of your husband. If violence was an option you would have smacked him. You always wanted kids just not with him.

“You didn’t want kids?” Jj’s voice interrupted you all. A cold shiver ran up your spine and your skin felt hot. Turning you saw your boy with a baseball cap on backwards.

“No, no. Of course I wanted you.” There was no hesitation as you went to hug your son.

“Ew, not in public mum.” Jj stepped away giving you an annoyed look. Then giving the random man you were talking to a dirty one since his father looked like he wanted to kill the guy.

“Well, it was-“ you paused for a second trying to find the right word.

“Surprising, to see you.” You shot a forced smile over your shoulder. Hugh caught the hint and nodded with a tight lipped smile to John, then you and walked away.

“Who was that?” Jj asked giving you a pointed look.

“An old uni friend of your mums.” John explained. It was a round about way of saying it. You had met Hugh at the end of your doctoral program and dated for awhile. The break up happened the week before you went on that dig where you met John.

It was a messy break up and you were ready when it ended. The constant fighting, lack of trust, and his controlling nature was why you ended things and Hugh didn’t react in a way you were expecting. Immediately sleeping with the girl he told you there was no need to worry about out of spite. Then begging for you two to get back together and give him another chance.

It lasted a few years before he stopped reaching out at random times. He would wish you happy birthday or ask if you were free for dinner. You had answered a few times at the very beginning when John was dragging his feet about wanting to date you and be single due to his job. Once you realized you had fallen in love with John you stopped answering any phone call, email, or text. Ending with Hugh showing up at your door a week after John ended things with you and that was the last night you saw him. Choosing to ignore any form of communication after that in hopes to get yourself to stop going down the self destructive path you ended up on.

“Lets get Evie it’s time to go.” John gave Jj a reassuring look but wouldn’t look you in the eye.

——————

“John, please stop giving me the cold shoulder.” You were standing at the foot of your bed blocking your husbands view of the tv.

“I’m not.” John said simply with a shrug. Then grabbing his book off the nightstand so he could read since you were blocking the tv.

“John, what’s bugging you?” You asked knowing for a fact it had to be running into Hugh.

“Nothing.” John muttered in a clearly annoyed tone.

“Fine.” You sighed. Getting into bed you laid on your side with your back turned to your husband.

Since you ran into Hugh at the department store John had wanted little to do with you. Jj asked if you were fighting and John told him ‘no’ and then continued to keep his distance. It had been one word answers and a complete lack of eye contact. John sat outside for the majority of the evening smoking cigars.

John stared down at the book in his hands, not actually reading. His mind had been racing since the name Hugh came out of your mouth. John knew you had slept with Hugh once after you met John. It was when John told you he didn’t want anything serious and you should see other people; breaking your heart and leaving you devastated and lonely. You hadn’t done anything wrong but John was incredibly self conscious that you sought out male affection during your three month break up while he couldn’t get you out of his head.

John was incapable of looking at another woman sexually let alone romantically during that time and he never understood why you did what you did, but now it made sense. Hugh was leagues better looking than John thought he was and time seemed to not affect him as drastically as it did John. Insecurity and jealousy had found its way into John’s mind as he questioned if he was as attractive as you said he was.

The thing that continued to naw at John’s brain was how much older he looked standing next to you and your former lover. John didn’t feel inadequacy often but tonight he was plagued by it. Thoughts of you once in that man’s arms and how he looked at you, all these years later as if you had seen each other only a week ago. If John hadn’t been such a fool Hugh would have never found his way into your bed that last time.

“So you really only slept with him that once while we were broken up?” John asked the question before realizing he was speaking. John cringed as he watched you sit up rapidly giving him a shocked and clearly hurt expression. John wanted to take the question back as soon as he realized he was talking.

“You think I’d lie about something like that?” A pain clanged in your heart at your husbands question. After being married for as long as you were did he really have that little trust in you.

“No, I just. . . Don’t see why you continued to wait for me when he’s clearly a very attractive man.” John tried to reason as if his question was appropriate. You were even more offended that John was thinking you were that shallow.

“Well first off I wasn’t waiting for you like some lost puppy. I was trying to get over you because you ended things between us. Secondly, I was and continue to be in love with you. I chose to tell you what happened because full honesty is important to me. I didn’t tell you so you could question my loyalty years later.” The words came spilling out and you were far from nice as you practically hissed them at John; who was staring back at you as stoic as ever. Normally you could get a read on him but you had no clue what was going on in his head.

“I’m not questioning your loyalty or calling you a liar.” John rolled his eyes making your blood boil.

“Well it sure feels like it. Then what are you asking?” You snapped, face flushed with anger. You were embarrassed to even be talking about this. The only man you thought about in that way was your husband and you didn’t want to drag up that old humiliating memory. You were still mortified that you allowed your self respect to get that low and allow Hugh into your apartment that night let alone your body.

There was a long lapse of silence as you watched the gears turn in your husbands head. It was clear John was stewing over something else and going this roundabout way to get there. John tended to do this when he really had some strong or hurt feelings about something. It was as if he was incapable of just spitting it out and being straightforward about whatever was on his mind. Which you assumed was that he thought you might have cheated all those years ago. Only that wasn’t the case for John.

“Why me? Over him? He’s good looking enough, clearly smart since you met through uni, and isn’t in the god damn military. And he certainly doesn’t look as worn and aged as me.” John practically barked the words out at you. It was clear he was angry, you weren’t sure with who, as he told you what was on his mind.

“Wait.” You held you hand up and closed your eyes trying to gather your thoughts. This was not about John thinking you were unfaithful all those years ago. John actually though Hugh would have been a better romantic choice for you over him; and that stunned you.

“Why did I choose you over Hugh?” You asked again to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Yeah. And be honest. I want the whole truth.” John said forcefully. He was holding his breath not sure if he actually wanted to hear the truthful answer. Maybe you had just settled for John because Hugh got the shag he wanted and then disappeared after. Maybe you were filled with regret and wondered what your life could have been.

“Because Hugh is a condescending, manipulative, asshole. Who never actually cared about me. He just wanted to control what I wore, who I was friends with and never once supported my career.” You took a deep breath before you spoke again. Laying the angry words to rest so you could really get John to listen to you. Taking John’s hand you turned so you were facing him and sitting criss cross, your eyes locked on his sad baby blues.

“I fell so hard and madly in love with you that day you took me to our first football match. I never stopped loving you even when you broke up with me. I loved you far longer than you did me and I don’t regret it for a second. When you ask why I didn’t end up with Hugh it’s simple. He wasn’t you. I’ve only ever wanted you, John.” You couldn’t help the emotion that came pouring out of you as you told your husband something you thought he already knew. Those times in your early relationship were always so uncertain yet you took the chance and loved him whole hearted. Even when he didn’t do the same for you.

“I love you, darling.” John sighed out the breath he was holding. Squeezing your hand and feeling the insecurity begin to wash away at you pouring your heart out for him. You were right. You had loved him far longer than he deserved and now he was questioning that all because he was self conscious of his greying hair.

“You’ve got me for life. And I want you to know I have yet to meet a man that is half as perfect for me as you.” Your honeysuckle words had John visibly relaxing. A small smile dusting across his lips.

“I’m sorry for questioning you. Just don’t know how you like sleeping with a prune like me.” John admitted. Finally able to tell you in his own way he was self conscious due to his appearance.

“Like? I love getting to have a sexy bear of a man like you all over me. Have you seen yourself naked?” You brought your fingers to your mouth and did a ‘chefs kiss’ so signify how delicious John was. John couldn’t help but laugh knowing you really did mean it.

“Facial hairs still not too much?” He asked.

“How could I have a mustache ride without it?” You flirted shamelessly. The ego boost you were giving your husband had something stirring awake in his sweatpants. You could see the confidence coming back to your husband so you pushed just a little bit more. Moving in closer you rested your chin on John’s toned and broad shoulders.

“Or maybe it’s your huge cock.” You whispered seductively into John’s ear.

“I am pretty lucky aren’t I?” John turned his pupils blown and all former insecurity forgotten.

“I think the same thing about myself.” You said smugly. Only a few centimeters separating the pair of you.

“You’re really going to feel the same when I’m a crotchety old man?” John asked sincerely getting a wicked smile form you in return.

“You’ll be my old man. I’ll love you until the day I die. Walker and all.” The sweet tone and honest nature of your words had John falling even more in love with you.

“Get over here.” John’s arm wrapped around your waist pulling you close. You took the opportunity to straddle his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. With splayed hands on your back you held each other in a tight embrace.

“Now, how about I show just how good looking you are.” You purred kissing down John’s bare neck.

“Oh really?” A gruff groan left John’s throat as you began to grind down on his stiffened length.

“Think you can keep up old man?” You teased. A squeal leaving you as John quickly flipped you over and pinned you to the mattress.

“Oh no, darling. I’m going to have my way with you until all you can say in my name.”

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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