#though if you wanted an actual answer then of course it's john

[carmensbloggg]

976-EVIL

ᯓ★ j. maybank x female (kook) reader

synopsis : jj has been obsessed with reader since the moment he first saw her. one day he plucks up the courage to talk to her, to his surprise, all goes well

warnings : use of y/n, language, all in 2nd person, not proofread

a/n : i love jj x kook reader so much they have my whole heart

Crack a smile and wave

It doesn't scare me away

Hit the brakes

I feel like cruising with you too

“Look, it’s your girl,” Kie half jokes as she points towards you walking into The Wreck. JJ’s head immediately snaps up to look at the pretty girl that had just walked in.

The first time he ever saw you was on your way back home from school. He could tell because you were still dressed in your uniform; skirt rolled short, socks pulled up to your knees, tie wrapped perfectly. Everything about you looked so flawless. There was one thing though, your mascara had run down your cheeks, your eyes were glossy and your nose was red. You had bumped into him and were quick to apologise as he helped stabilise you. You were gone as quick as you came and he thought he would never see you again.

Boy was he wrong.

The second time he saw you was at a kegger on the boneyard. You were with your friends at the shore, anyone looking at you would see you all were clearly intoxicated. JJ wasn’t looking at your friends though, he was only focused on the light pink dress that adorned your curves. Your plush thighs that were on display, your tits that almost spilled out the top of your dress. Your platform flip flops that made you appear taller, only by a few inches. Your lip gloss that reflected in the moonlight as you laughed with the girls around you. You shook some hair away from your face, allowing it to flow freely in the wind. He thought you were the most pretty girl he had ever seen as he kept a close eye on you. He had no intention whatsoever of going over to you and introducing himself, you were drunk and probably wouldn’t even remember him. His eyes remained on you the whole night, making sure no one approached you and that you were safe.

The third time he saw you was at Midsummers. John B had told him to give a note to Sarah Cameron, and you being a kook was there too. You were crying, once again, and running away from Ben Madden. JJ watched as Ben tried consoling you and failed as you slapped him and ran out the doors into the house, assumingly going home. He wanted to help you, he really did, but he knew you wouldn’t want a pogue like himself to calm you down.

And that brings us to the fourth time, right now at The Wreck. He should’ve expected it honestly, where else would a kook girl go on a Saturday? Nevertheless, he enjoyed your presence and the ability to watch you. His friends however, do not enjoy when JJ watches you. Pope has told him countless times that his ‘need to protect you’ is not healthy and Kie just hates that you distract him so much from their plans without even knowing. John B doesn’t seem to care, but he does get annoyed from time to time when JJ ignores him. Obviously the boy doesn’t mean to do it on purpose, you’re just so captivating.

“JJ,” Kie sighs before Pope chimes in. “Are you ever going to actually talk to her? Or just stare at her whenever she’s around,” Pope asks rhetorically, every one of course knowing the answer. “I can’t talk to her, she’d probably get scared and walk away, and then everyone would know JJ Maybank has no game,” his head rests in his hands as sadness makes itself clear on his face. “This is depressing,” Pope deadpans and JJ lays his head on the table.

Just as silence falls over the table, John B catches you looking towards JJ. “JJ, dude, look up,” he shakes his friend, making sure you’re still looking. Confusion washes over your features as John B tries so desperately to get JJ to lift his head up. JJ reluctantly raises his head and groans a “what,” to John B, who simply nods in your direction. Thankfully you’re still looking at JJ and the confusion washes away when he smiles and waves at you. You softly smile back and wave to him before returning to your own conversation, occasionally sharing more glances with the blonde a few tables over from you.

“JJ Maybank has game after all,” JJ smiles to himself. “You should talk to her,” Kie pushes him, only to be turned down. “I can’t, she’s with her friends,” he makes up an excuse. “Who cares? Go on, go,” John B pushes further, until he eventually gives in and walks over to your table.

He stands there awkwardly for a few seconds before clearing his throat. Your conversation comes to a halt at the suddenness of his presence. “Hi,” you smile softly up at him. “Hi,” he chokes out. No one says anything and you’re left making eye contact for a few seconds before you decide to speak up. “Is everything okay?” you nervously laugh a little at his shyness. “Oh, shit- sorry yeah, um a few minutes ago I smiled and waved at you and you smiled and waved back,” he begins to explain. “Yeah,” you smile and nod, recalling the moment shared. “And uh, now you’re talking to me so I was just wonderin’ if I scared you, but I’m guessing I didn’t because you’re still here,” his nervousness radiates through his tone. “You’re asking if you’re scary?” you almost laugh at the poor boy. He hesitantly nods, only now realising he had no plan whatsoever with this. “Scary? You? Not a chance pretty boy,” you giggle, surprised a little at your sudden boldness. A light red hue takes over his face as he slowly nods. “Can I get your number?” he manages to get out, he’s not really sure how though, the only thing in his mind is your words. “Mhm, of course,” you smile as you write your number on a napkin and hand it to him. “Thank you,” he says as he makes his way back over to his fiends.

“JJ Maybank has game after all,” he repeats as he waves the napkin in the pogue’s faces.

After about 15 minutes, your friends decide to leave, but not you. Confidence surges through you as you make your way over to the blonde pogues table, already planning the words in your head.

“Um, hi,” you nervously state to him and his friends. They all greet you, JJ being the last to do so. You recognised Kiara, you were friends with her during her kook year. “I was wondering if maybe I could go home with you tonight? If that’s okay with you of course,” you ask JJ, expecting a no in return. “Uh, sure, yeah, that’s fine, the house might be a little messy though,” he warns you. “That’s okay, messy is good,” you nod, being reminded of your own house which always looks like it was bought yesterday.

Obviously JJ isn’t going to take you back to his own house, god knows what his dad would do or say. The Chateau is really his only option here. “Yeah, of course, come on, we’re going now anyway,” he smiles, getting up from his seat and taking you out into the Twinkie.

“JB you okay to drive?” JJ questions as he throws John B the keys. The boy just nods and you and JJ get in the back. He slings an arm around your shoulder before introducing you to his friends. “So, that’s John B, that’s Pope and you already know Kie,” he points them all out and you nod along, saying hi to each one.

Eventually you make it to ‘JJ’s house’ and you’re shown to the guest bedroom JJ’s room, where both you and JJ sit on the bed. “Pretty nice house,” you comment, looking around. “It’s actually not mine, it’s John B’s, he just lets me crash here,” JJ admits to you. “Oh, do you think he would mind if I stay the night?” you ask, not really wanting to go home. “Probably not, he doesn’t really care,” the boy nods as you both slip into mindless conversation about anything and everything to do with your lives. It’s somehow so easy to talk to someone with such different life experiences than your own. JJ tells you all about his dad and how he and John B became friends and you talk about how your mother is so controlling and your parents fell out of love way before they even had you. JJ sympathises with you about every sad experience you’ve had, and you do the same for him.

After some time you both decide it’s probably best to go to sleep and find comfort in each other’s arms. It’s pretty safe to say the two of you fell in love a little more beyond physical attraction.

a/n pt2 : i don’t really get down with the ending but it’s gonna have to do 😭

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Promptadoodledoo; land o Goshen, this was a tough one, so thanks for sticking with me]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) 12: family (13)

Breach imminent

MH

Sherlock groans, shoving his phone between couch cushions and drawing a sleeping Rosie closer to him. 

'Bad news?' John asks from his chair. He looks over his reading glasses at where Sherlock is curled around his daughter, and feels affection sting so hard in his chest that he absently rubs at it.

'The worst,' Sherlock answers sullenly

John runs through the likely options in his head, then goes with his gut. 'Your parents are coming to town?'

Sherlock opens his eyes and stares at John, his expression full of surprise, then affection, then shammy casualness. 'I have been a good influence on your deduction skills, clearly.' 

John chuckles. 'That, or your brother advised me to clear my calendar and clean the flat.'

'Meddling queen,' Sherlock mutters into Rosie's hair. Then his phone pings again. 

I haven't told them.

MH

John doubles down. 'He knows, I take it? About our… development?' 

'You are doing very well today.' 

'Feelings, Sherlock. I'm good at people and their feelings.'

'Yes, yes, that's why I keep you around. Of course he knows; I let him keep the surveillance up in the stairwell in exchange for having none in here.' 

'Ah.' John had suspected as much, though admittedly he had not considered it at the time of the first (very unplanned) tryst. 'Has he told your parents?' 

'Apparently not.' 

Silence stretches. They've come a long way, but John feels too keenly the risk/reward scenario here, and is undecided.

This time it's John's phone that pings. 

It's up to you, of course, but rest assured: they would be inordinately pleased. 

MH

John's eyebrow quirks. 'Your parents like me?' he finally says, going for casual but missing, and he knows it. 

'You're very likeable.'

'You know, from anyone else that would be a compliment.' 

Sherlock doesn't answer beyond a grunt. It's somehow safe to have this conversation in this arrangement, with the comforting stretch of the room and the gorgeous sleeping toddler between them. They're connected, but not so much as to overwhelm. 

'How much time have we got, do you reckon?' John asks, almost to the air.

'Far too little,' Sherlock grumbles.

'Right, but from you that could mean three months.'

'Yes, well, seeing as your birthday is in two weeks, but tis the season of primroses so they have to schedule us in between, I'm surmising it to be about three hours, in actuality.'

John snorts. 'That's a bit harsh.'

'No, no, they're beautiful primroses.'

'Hang on,' John says suddenly, running back through what Sherlock has said. 'They know when my birthday is?'

'Of course.'

'They care when my birthday is?'

'Don't be daft.'

'I'm trying, but they hardly know me. And what they know of me is not altogether flattering.'

'I said don't be daft.'

John can't stop a frustrated noise. 'Then explain it better.'

Sherlock opens his eyes, considers him for a moment, then he breaks eye contact and buries his nose in Rosie's hairline. 'They know of my affections for you. And that's enough for them.'

John's breath deserts him for a moment. 'Sherlock…'

'Don't let's make a big thing out of it, please.'

John wants to laugh. It's already literally the biggest thing in his life. 'Alright,' he says instead. 'But... let me be the one to tell them, yeah?'

Sherlock goes very still, not lifting his gaze. 'You'd be amenable to that?'

Sod this, it's been long enough. John shunts his reading glasses aside and stands, listening to his bones crick as he crosses and crouches in front of the two most important people in his orbit. 'Yeah, course.' He presses his lips against Rosie's forehead, then Sherlock's, without hesitation. 'Try and get rid of me.'

Sherlock finally, finally meets his eyes, and John feels so much he wants to tackle both of them and just cocoon for a little while. Tell the world to bugger off.

So, of course, there's a knock at the door. Sherlock groans, and Rosie's face scrunches up in the universal expression of, "How dare you wake me up, you rude creature."

'Three hours?' John says while scooping his daughter out of Sherlock's embrace. She needs a change. Maybe he should use that baby magic and let Sherlock's parents do it, he thinks with a grin.

'I am not in control of all variables, unfortunately,' Sherlock mutters into the sofa, where he's pressed his face.

John's mouth curves into a smirk as he heaves up (bloody hell, getting older is not for the weak) and turns towards the door. He wishes fleetingly that Sherlock was behind him, in solidarity if nothing else.

Then, suddenly, he is, his mouth pressing against Rosie's sleep-rumpled cheek over John's shoulder. He doesn't turn to John, but he doesn't have to. 'Into battle?'

John nods, then reaches for the door.

[❤️]

[steveinscarlet]

Another vintage Kerrang article for your delectation. This one is loooong. Text below the cut...

THEY'RE ALL concerned and they all want answers. Mötley Crüe drummer Tommy Lee, hauling ass down Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, in a sparkling silver Corvette, certainly does. So does Blackfoot mainspring Ricky Medlocke, a recent unexpected apparition within the Marquee's glistening vaults. So does just about everyone I've met in the course of recent field-trips. They're all wearing that 'there but for the grace of God' look and they all want to know. So do I...

"Every time you speak to Rick on the phone you come away with a big grin on your face because he's in such good spirits. He's handling it better than I thought he would. He's matured 10 years overnight. He's totally accepted the fact that he's only got one arm and he's being very realistic about coming back into Def Leppard. He's mad to go for it, though, and we're mad to let him try."

That drummer Rick Allen will try, however, isn't in doubt. He's adamant about it and Leppard vocalist Joe Elliott is equally adamant that the band will give him their unrestrained support. As they've said all along, the decision is totally his "We aren't trying to show off or get sympathy," spells out Joe, "it's just the way we are. Def Leppard is simply five lads - we could have been a football team, we could have been international bank robbers. Rick's a mate, and just because he's had an accident doesn't mean he can't still be in the band. If he physically can't do it then obviously there's going to be problems, but with the technology available today I don't see why he can't play snare drum with his left foot, say. And if he can do that, and maybe have tom tom fills already recorded on a trigger, then the kit would look exactly the same. "Bill Ludwig, who builds Rick's kits, actually got in touch with him as soon as it happened, and it seems that there's a lot of one-arm drummers, guys who came back from Vietnam, y'know. The thing is, they tend to play Holiday Inns and places that like that; it's a different approach to drumming. Rick has a very John Bonhamish style - I mean, the quy doesn't need monitors, he's ridiculously loud! - and he'd never be able to do with one hand what he did with two for an hour and three quarters. It would kill him! So he's gonna need the technology. It's just down to whether he can accept the fact that there are gonna be people in the crowd trying to peer through the cymbals to see a plastic arm. He'll have to wear a shirt now, whereas before he'd always go bare-topped..."

THE DETAILS of the car crash that removed 21- year-old Rick (temporarily at least) from the Leppard ranks have been pretty well documented, grabbing column inches in the Nationals and beyond. The bare facts seem plain enough: at 12.50pm on New Year's Eve, while driving his Corvette along the A57 from Sheffield to his parents home in Dronfield (Derbyshire), Rick was involved in an incident which sent his car spinning out of control, turning over several times, injuring his female passenger and removing his left arm in the process. He remembers what happened vividly, and really can count himself fortunate to be alive. When the debris from the accident was examined it was found that the top half of the steering wheel had been bent back, Rick's particular power clearly preventing the steering column and dashboard from crushing against his chest. But why did it happen?

Picking through the events with Elliott it soon becomes obvious that the whole story is a little more complex than yer typical life-in-the-fast-lane pile up. Think about it...

When you're young and successful, with a streamlined US car and a female companion to match, it can sometimes sting the nasal membrane of the folks you've abandoned to a dole queue existence in your humdrum hometown rut. People have been known to glow green with jealousy, and on New Year's Eve people have been known to take a drink. Sometimes even a life...

"Yeah," says Joe quietly. "There was another car involved in the accident."

Mucking Rick around, you mean?

"That's right. But the people have denied it and there's nothing we can do. The coppers have interviewed them but it's no good I'd love to go round and kill 'em!"

Joe takes a moment to collect his thoughts, then continues... "The arm was placed in a bucket of ice gathered from all the houses nearby and Rick was in hospital (the Royal Hallamshire) within 19 minutes, which is unbelievable. He underwent an 11-hour operation; his arm was back on by ten to one the following morning, but infection set in and after three days they had to take it off.

"His nerves are still alive, though. They've got them wrapped up like spaghetti, and it's possible to have them connected up in a way that can give movement to a prosthetic arm. So the Steve Austin 'Six Million Dollar Man' thing is not beyond the realms of possibility one day. Rick still feels his arm because of the nerves."

When did you hear what had happened?

"I heard at about ten to four the same afternoon and I couldn't believe it. I cried like a baby for about three hours - my face was hurting. Peter (Mensch, manager) rang and said, 'Rick's had an accident, his arm's off, but they've sown it back on'. I've heard of that working before but unfortunately it was torn off, not cut off, so everything snapped and stretched in different places, which made it more difficult."

How soon after the accident did you visit Rick in hospital?

"I saw him two days after it happened... it was the worst experience I've ever had... but he was walking a week earlier than expected and telling the nurses to f**k off after three days because he was fed up having his bandages changed. He sounds in fine form now and wants to get back; drumming's all he's ever done, and he's done it very well."

"It's just up to him if he can stand the strain. I mean, he's going to go through some crap. He's not had it yet, but he's gonna suffer from depression; bad depression. He's being very realistic about it, though. He said to me, 'When it comes, it comes.' He wants to come out here to Holland but he knows he can't."

Presumably he won't be ready to play a part on the forthcoming tour?

"No, and he knows that. Somebody will guest with us until we know the result of Rick's convalescence." Would you consider using two drummers on any subsequent tours?

"Possibly, yeah, and Rick could do specific bits. We've definitely thought about that, but he's got a lot to learn first. I mean, there's certain things that are now a fact of life. If Rick wants to wear baseball boots, for example, he's gonna have to wear Velcro ones. And he's probably gonna need press-stud trousers. He's got to learn to bath himself even..."

"The thing is, at the moment his right arm doesn't work. The ball is smashed so they've had to pin it. He's got a six inch pin as big as a poker in there. Imagine if your elbow was sown to your hip; well that's all the movement he's got. I guess he's a bit of a mess, though mentally he's the best he's ever been."

What would happen if Rick returned to the band yet clearly wasn't cutting it? Would you have to tell him? "No, because he'd know himself. He's said that to me on the phone. He's being realistic- if he can't do it he can't, but he's definitely gonna try. There'll come a time when Rick will say, I'm ready, and we'll get together in a rehearsal room for a month and see what he does. He'll either turn round and go

'Yes!' and we'll go 'Yes!', or else he'll say 'Sorry, I'm not coping with it.'

"The important thing is that he tries, otherwise he'll never know, and that would be awful. I know he'd rather fail than not try at all. Besides, it's no big secret that we use drum machines on the records so, whatever happens, he could still be involved on that side. We would just take a session drummer out on the road."

"At the moment, we're trying not to get too depressed about the whole situation, but we were mega-depressed at first. I was in a real state, like a zombie for five hours, and for quite a time after I just didn't want to get into a car. I know it's daft, but it's true

A BONHAM of the biscuit tins, a Titan of the tupperware, since the age of 11 Rick Allen has thought of little outside of drums and drumming. At the moment he's at home, probably watching Cheech & Chong videos on the new system bought for him by Phonogram Records. But chances are that his thoughts are elsewhere, no doubt wafting with the music around the booths and corridors of Wisseloord Studios near Amsterdam, Holland, where Leppard are recording their fourth, as yet untitled, LP. As always, he's with his colleagues 110 per cent (for now it can be in spirit only), a continued commitment that should spur him on through the tough weeks and numerous hospital visits ahead.

Prior to the accident, he'd laid the groundwork for eight backing tracks, and the remaining two songs on the album were always destined to feature a less human touch, the band specifically wanting a more clinical punch, so there's no problem on that front. As for his work on backing vocals, well, Elliott can easily deputise in that department, leaving Rick free to concentrate on the speediest recovery possible and, as Elliott puts it, "Learn to live again. He's having all these drums built and a special car designed, all sorts of stuff..."

All things considered, '84 certainly wasn't an easy year for Def Leppard, a rude awakening for an almost unbroken streak of good fortune. First longstanding associate 'Mutt' Lange proved unable to produce the new LP, likewise his replacement Jim Steinman (though for different reasons - read on!), and then came The Accident, which instantly eclipsed all previous hassles, reducing apparent mountains of doom and dismay to easily skirted molehills. But, if anything, adversity has caused the four active members of the Leppard clan to virtually graft respective beaks to the grindstone in a collective consummate effort to make their next album their best.

The band's first LP, 'On Through The Night', produced by (Colonel) Tom Allom, took a mere 18 days to record and remains something of an embarrassment in Elliott's eyes (someday he'd like to remix it and touch up a few of the vocal parts), while the second, 'High 'N' Dry', with Lange now at the helm, was laid down in three and a half months, including a month's pre-production, bang, bang, bang, 'Mutt' clearly wanting to capture the excitement generated by these 21-year-old 'let's go for its'. But 'Pyromania' now that was a different story, with band and producer (Lange again) making a conscious decision at the outset to pin back the ears of a generation with something of genuine lasting quality; an attempt to update the glories of Queen's 'Sheer Heart Attack' and 'Night At The Opera' LPs...

They went for it in a big way and 10 months later came up trumps, creating a slice of history that many have doubted they'll be able to top; an album that left the whole of the music industry wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and caused bands both big and small to almost instantly re-assess their directions and aims. A (hard) labour of love still selling around a thousand a week, it broke taboos and set fresh standards right down the line.

"Hopefully, it'll be an Heavy Metal 'Sergeant Pepper...'," says Elliott, "who knows, but we've got to do more. It'd be tragic if our best album was our third and we end up doing 17 LPs."

Whatever the next album sounds like, however, Joe's convinced that it's gonna be slated by the press. He's resigned himself to the fact (not having heard the record beyond a few notes ricocheting out of the studio doors, I really can't comment), but, along with bassist Rick Savage and guitarists Steve Clark/Phil Collen, he's ploughing on regardless, helping to create something different to 'Pyromania' in content yet as good, if not better, overall.

"Since 'Pyromania' we're two years on technically," he explains. "The Fairlights are better, the keyboards are better and the microphones are better. And we're two years more experienced, of course. Actually, we keep putting on 'Pyromania' and listening to it back-to-back with what we've done; you have to imagine it without the mix, but it's definitely up there to my ears."

JOE ELLIOTT leans forward in the chair, tucks a fold of his rather battered dressing gown tight against private parts and pours himself another glass of one cal Coke. This for the moment is home, and has been since the middle of August: a simple hotel room in Holland ten minutes drive from the studio complex. Originally, the band were due to play the 'Mick Wall Festival' in Rio, but they eventually decided against it on grounds of not wanting to interrupt recording. So while certain jammy so-and-so's were sunning themselves on the Copacabana sands (maaaan!!), Elliott and co, tax exiles all, were trudging across frozen lakes, wrapped up tight against temperatures of 25° below! Still, there's always next year And if nothing else, in their present position the four are conveniently cut off from all domestic distractions. Through the hotel room window I can see Dirk, Elliott's treasured Renault 12 (and centrespread star of Kerrang! 79), basking quietly in the hazy sunlight, the central motif on an idyllic pastel canvas shaded only by the distant foghorn fuming of an adrenalised Peter Mensch. Somewhere, behind closed doors, he's informing an unfortunate Halfin that a five-piece outfit close to the latter's wallet have been 'stiffing' horribly in the South, and he doesn't mean Torquay! Let's just say he's on form...

Later, on the flight back to London, having persuaded Mensch to fund my purchase of a duty free Sony Walkman in tasteful pink, I tentatively suggest that the forthcoming Leppard biography should be titled 'Me & My Whine'...

"OH, YEAH, DAAAN-TAY!!" he snaps, blood vessels popping like balloons, "AND HOW LONG DID IT TAKE YOU TO THINK THAT ONE UP???"

Back to business...

"We've always upheld the theory," theorises Joe as things quieten down, "that we don't want to put out a record every nine months. We'd much rather put out a record every two to three years that's of real good quality

"When we started this album 'Mutt' was involved; we did pre-production with him in Dublin, Ireland, which is why we've put him down again on the songwriting credits. It's an honesty thing with us. He doesn't write anything as such; the six of us just sit round a table with a piece of paper in front of us and guitars turned down really low, then whoever chucks in an idea - be it Rick or 'Sav' or me or 'Mutt' - we play with it."

"Steve, for example, will come up with an idea and 'Mutt' will say, 'Change that round', 'Use this', 'Do it in another key', ' or whatever. It just creases me up to think that there are some people out there who look at us and say, 'Ha! They can't write their own songs', which isn't true at all. And even if it was, I'd much rather be involved with an album that sold six million copies co-written with a producer than one that sold 200,000 copies that wasn't."

Surely helping with the arrangements and so on is part of a producer's job, though "Yeah, right, but it's almost as if it's some kind of crime to let your producer be involved. That's what a producer's there for - to kick you up the arse and bring out the best that you can do. We encourage 'Mutt' to be involved and we repay him by sticking his name on the songwriting credits. Who cares! It's only a bloody song anyway..."

Isn't it true, though, that a lot of producers are really just glorified engineers and can't make the extra step up to that level of involvement?

"Yes, that is true, but 'Mutt's an exception anway because the guy's a musician, he's been an engineer since he left school - he's been doing it for 17 years and he's only in his early thirties now and he's also a brilliant singer and great songwriter, so you've got everything going for you! Whereas an engineer will be able to tell you if something's out of tune, 'Mutt' can go further than that and say, 'It doesn't feel right' or 'Sing it this way, shape your mouth like this, let's alter the phrasing'. "With most engineers, if it's in tune and it's what you want then it's a take, and that's all their job is, because if it's that way round it's normally the band who are producing, the way we are with this album. I noticed in Kerrang! it implied that Nigel Green is now producing – he's not, we are. Nigel's assisting." "Actually, he's worked with us on our last two albums, though not as main engineer. Mike Shipley was always our main engineer. Nigel's as good as Mike, it's just that at the time he was involved in other projects; so when Mike took a holiday or went to the dentist Nigel would come in. We've never worked with him on a long term basis before but we do know him."

What happened with 'Mutt' Lange, though? As I understand it, he originally agreed to produce the album as well as help out on pre-production...

"Yeah. In fact, he was still going to do it last February. We started with pre-production, as you've mentioned, but it soon became obvious that 'Mutt' was in no state to see the whole thing through. The Cars' album ('Heartbeat City') nearly killed him; our last album nearly killed him, and the Foreigner record ('IV') the same. I think he's just reached the stage now where to attain certain standards you're talking about grafting for a long time."

"The way we worked on 'Pyromania', for example, we were doing 20 hour days and the guy was sleeping on the couch in the control room. You just can't do that forever, so for the sake of his health he made a wise decision not to do our album. At the time, we were panicking; we thought, 'Oh, Christ!', cos things had all been planned. It wasn't a case of us being afraid of what the album would sound like if 'Mutt' wasn't there, it was simply the availability of other producers that we were concerned about. With top people like Ted Templeman, Mike Stone or Trevor Horn, you've got to book 'em years in advance, you can't just get in touch two weeks before you want to start..."

"Actually, we did approach Templeman just to see how much he wanted, and I don't think he was too keen to do it; he put in such a ridiculous money offer that no band in the world would have accepted it! But then we really wanted somebody a bit different, anyhow. We were interested in the people I've already mentioned initially because we thought, well, these are the names that we've listened to, Bob Ezrin, y'know. But then we started to think about people like Alex Sadkin, who we found was doing the new Foreigner album ('Agent Provocateur'). Trevor Horn would have worked with us in England, but Chris Thomas (Roxy Music, Procol Harum) turned us down flat - he obviously doesn't like us. We actually tried to get Phil Collins, who was interested but tied up with the latest Clapton LP ('Behind The Sun')."

So you were looking at people outside the world of heavy rock...

"Yeah, we were looking at up and coming producers like Terry Manning, who's engineered for ZZ Top, and Steve Lillywhite, who's yet to do a hard rock album but possibly could do a good one. Some of us were interested in him, some of us weren't. I like the fullness of Simple Minds' 'Sparkle In The Rain' LP, it's brill, but sounds are really no problem for us now, we can get good sounds; the thing we always like to have is musical input, and that's where we thought Steinman would come into his own. I mean, the guy's a good songwriter and he's had a hell of a lot of success with what he does."

He worked on the last Billy Squier album, 'Signs Of Life', with Tony Platt, didn't he?

"Yeah, well, he 'navigated' it is what Squier says. We thought, OK, we'll get the sounds and let him do the producing, but it turned out that Jim wasn't really what any of us thought he would be. In fact, I wonder how he's ever got a production credit on anything - especially with Squier, the kind of ego he's got. I can't understand why he even let Steinman's name appear on his album cos we're not putting it on ours."

What was the problem with Steinman then?

"Ahh... I wouldn't be lying if I said that you could have done it as well. I mean that. The guy just sat there reading 'Country Life' all day and going, 'Yeah, yeah, that sounds good', when it plainly wasn't. He's simply not used to recording the way we record. When we said, 'Listen, this is the way we work, you'd better get used to it', he tried and he couldn't. He just could not hear if something was wrong."

Were your standards too exacting for him, do you think?

"Possibly, yeah. It sounds strange to say that, though, cos to me those standards are normal. Doing 'Pyromania' was like going to college; I've grown up listening to things a certain way. As far as I'm concerned, getting the timing, the tuning and the feel spot on is the usual way to work, but Jim Steinman for all his reputation - could not hear it."

"After a while, we just thought, well, this is silly, we're wasting our time and money and wasting his time, though we weren't too bothered about that cos he wasn't too bothered about the project. I honestly don't think he was doing it for any reason other than credibility in the States. "We'd say, 'Right, we start at 12', and he'd wander in at 3.30. We'd stay till 12 or one in the morning, then he'd go back to his hotel and start writing songs for his own future projects, and he'd be up till nine o'clock doing that. So when he finally got round to us, he'd only had five hours sleep. he wasn't there half the time. I mean, he was there in body but not in mind. We found more and more that we were doing the work, which was fine, we didn't mind doing it, we just thought, why the hell should we be giving this guy so many points and so many dollars to sit there reading 'Country Life'!"

So how much did you manage to accomplish with Steinman?

"We did about eight backing tracks and scrapped them; almost everything has been done again. And even the things that went down were our decision Steinman never overruled us on anything. If he said a certain take was good and we said it was bad, we'd do it again."

Who was actually getting the sounds at this stage?

"Us and Neil Dorfsman, Steinman's engineer. He was good, actually, cos he was doing all the work. Jim was the ears of the partnership, but the ears were plugged up, I think..."

"Y'know, it annoys me intensely when a producer walks into a control room and says, "This carpet has got to go!' Sod the desk, that's not important. An SSL desk, 150,000 quid's worth of equipment, and the carpet's got to go! He even had the carpet changed in his hotel room. The guy was living in a suite while we were happy in rooms with a fridge and a cooker. Obviously, we paid for it all..."

"And the food! He went out to the North of Holland and had a 12 course meal! Which is fine, that's his personality, but when somebody walks into a studio and says the carpet has got to go... if I'd been there I'd have decked him. Seriously. Who gives a flying s**t what the carpet looks like!"

How long did Steinman last, then?

"Oh, we dumped Jim about November, we gave him a fair chance. We thought, well, alright, we're doing the spadework, what he might consider the boring side of the album, let's see what he's like on vocals, maybe that's his strongpoint. He did tell us that he spent something like five weeks trying to get Meat Loaf to sing one line, so we thought, OK, the guy's definitely got stamina."

"But when it came to doing vocals with me, it was exactly the same situation as with the backing tracks - everything was my decision. He'd say, 'Yeah, that's good', and I'd go, 'Jim, it's f**king useless!' I'd run out of breath at the end of a line cos I wasn't quite familiar with what I was singing, and he'd say, 'It's got a bit of feel'. Isn't that pathetic?!"

"I mean, Steve and Phil wanted to get rid of him two weeks after he was here. But I just kept saying, 'Give the guy a chance, blah, blah, blah' made meself look a right arsehole. But it was only fair to let him get to the vocal stage of things."

"Anyway, when Steinman went we all sat down and asked Mensch to sort out which other producers were available. We put down everybody we thought might be good. Mike Shipley couldn't do it cos he was off co-producing the new Loverboy album, so we just suggested Nigel. We were doing a better job than Steinman, so we thought, well, what's the point getting in another producer? We send 'Mutt' the odd tape now and then and he sends it back saying, 'It sounds brilliant to me', which shows that we can do it, so we are."

Has having Phil Collen involved from the start of this album (he became a Leppard member during the recording of 'Pyromania', replacing guitarist Pete Willis) made things different in any way?

"Yeah, it means that the songwriting's changed a little; Phil's input is better than Pete's ever was. Steve will always be the major songwriter, I think, but he's really encouraged Phil a lot. He doesn't just sit down and say, 'I want to write all the songs', stuff like that. In fact, everything that Steve's written, he's written with Phil in the same room... Phil's probably involved in eight of the 10 songs on the album."

And what about 'Sav'? He writes too, doesn't he?

"Yeah, but 'Sav's weird; I can't get to grips with him sometimes. More than anyone else in this band he likes your Journeys and your Bryan Adams, occasionally even the odd Duran Duran song, yet he was the one who came up with 'Stagefright' and 'No No No'. And on this new album he's got a number called 'Ring Of Fire' - not a cover of the famous Johnny Cash song! which is an uptempo, thrash, crash, Metal job. He just never writes like the people he listens to."

Will Steve and Phil be sharing the guitar breaks on the new LP?

"Oh yeah, 50/50, right down the middle. Actually, they argue about who's gonna do 'em; not in the sense of, 'I wanna do this', but Phil's telling Steve that he should do a certain solo and Steve's saying, 'No you do it, it's more up your street'. I remember hearing stories about KK (Downing) and Glenn (Tipton) from Priest not talking to each other for four months at a time, but it's the other way round with Steve and Phil. The only thing they argue about is who's gonna buy the drinks!"

What about you, though? You play a bit of guitar...

"Badly!"

...have you written anything on the new record?

"Er... I did come up with some stuff but I don't think it got used. I wrote little bits on the last album, but my main worry is obviously melodies, lyrics and vocals."

"Sometimes, though, we'll have a vocal line and work the backing around that. We've got this one new song, 'Armageddon It', which is Piltdown, just two chords all the way through; it's based around a tongue-in-cheek vocal thing."

Is it a 'Rock Of Ages' type number?

"I suppose it is a bit, yeah. The vocals come out from all over the place once it gets going. It's just a totally stupid lyric... like 'Rock Of Ages', just a piss-take of ourselves, though not mocking the fans in any way."

"And then there's 'Ring Of Fire', which I've already mentioned. It's actually about an Indian meal, the day after, but nobody would ever know that... well, they will now!"

When you're writing lyrics, do you ever think about how the song will work live?

"Not really, no. Obviously, a number like 'Rock Till You Drop' is a stage song, and the same with 'Stagefright', but I've never consciously sat down and thought, well, I'd better come up with two songs about 'Rock This Place To The Ground', or whatever, and one meaningful one about Vietnam, and another about a vigilante in New York. They just turn out that way. You do it in moods. I was probably watching something about Vietnam on TV and 'Die Hard The Hunter' (from the 'Pyromania' LP) came out, and I'd probably been to see 'Deathwish' when I wrote 'Billy's Got A Gun' (also on 'Pyromania'). I can't remember, I just do it."

"I actually wrote 'Photograph' (ditto) while I was sitting on the bog. I was stuck for a chorus and I had a picture of Marilyn Monroe staring me in the face... Bob's your uncle!"

When you made the decision to go for something extra with the 'Pyromania' album, were you confident that you could pull it off?

"We were confident, yeah, very confident, because 'Mutt' was producing. We just had so much faith in the guy and in return he had total confidence in what we were doing. We didn't see how we could go wrong, though Mensch was tearing his hair out when we were nearly a million pounds in debt and the record company were drumming their fingers waiting. I think we had to sell 1.2 million copies of 'Pyromania' to break even, we were in a real big mess..."

"I mean, I nearly had a nervous breakdown, I just couldn't handle it. I was going through so much crap towards the end - do it again, do it again... I got what a lot of singers get, 'Lastitis', which comes from the pressure of finishing. We went through a lot of hell on that record..."

Including, of course, the slightly wobbly exit of young Mr Willis...

"Yeah, but in all honesty I think that did us more good than anything. The thing is, you sometimes take situations for granted and then all of a sudden something like that happens and it's like, wow, it's different, there's only four of us, he's gone, really gone. I mean, Phil joined the day after, but then he almost joined back in '81."

"I tried to get him cos we were having trouble with Willis in America. I rang Phil up and said, 'Can you learn 16 songs in two days?' He said, 'I'll try', but that was just totally out of desperation, there's no way he could have done it. However, when Pete started to act in the studio like he did on tour, which was making Keith Moon look like a bloody vicar, it was time for him to go."

Why doesn't he get some help?

"Well, I think he's beyond help, to tell the truth. He doesn't even realise he needs it, he doesn't accept he's got a problem, though the guy's been in hospital twice as a result of drink and drugs. He had a collapsed liver or something, and epileptic fits, God knows what."

That hasn't happened to the rest of you, though, and you're all the same age, you've all worked your way up together...

"No, it's just him. Pete's always had something to prove, y'see, probably because he's a midget. The guy thought he was 10 feet tall when he was pissed and he'd be taking on people as big as you it didn't work. He was like a gigantic ball and chain around our ankles..."

THE LATEST whisper on Willis is that he's currently swanning around the environs of Sheffield, complete with Rolls Royce and minder, recounting tales of some hush-hush supergroup he might be throwing in his frets with. Elliott finds it hard to take the whole thing seriously, and I think it's fair to say that the recording of album number four is proceeding all the smoother for the wee man's absence.

Already, a number of lead vocals are complete, and the band (employing two studios simultaneously) are steadily piecing together their ten new songs, ready to convince a waiting world that Life After 'Pyromania' does exist.

So what's on the boil? Well, in no particular order, there's 'Armageddon It' and 'Ring Of Fire', already mentioned, 'Excitable', 'Gods Of War', 'Fractured Love', 'Don't Shoot The Shotgun' (Stonesy, I'm assured), 'Animal', 'Love Bites' (a ballad), 'Run Riot' and the enticingly handled 'Women', all proudly produced by the Leppard members themselves, who, without the invaluable 'Mutt' Marten to administer the prods, are taking great and serious pleasure in booting each other up the bum! "Actually, I never envisaged us producing ourselves," admits Joe, "I thought it might be the one thing that would lead to us falling out. It's always been dead important to us that Leppard is a friends situation; we want to keep the element of why we started. Five mates who can still go into the same bar and look each other in the face after seven years. Happily, that's the way it's remained, and producing ourselves is working really well..."

The new album, which now looks set to be mixed by Lange in the UK, an added bonus, should be available by August, after which the band plan to tear up the tarmac on a world tour of, well... y'know. The idea, it seems, is to blow away the studio cobwebs with about eight shows in Ireland, some in smaller places, then steer a course for the UK, perhaps for a September stint (the British dates have already been put back four times!) of 20 or so gigs. A headline appearance at Wembley Arena isn't too far off for the boys, according to Queen's Brian May, a staunch Leppard supporter, but this time around I reckon they'll settle for something a little more cosy.

Next tour, though Europe too seems odds on to cop a visit, particularly as 'Pyromania' has now shifted over 100,000 copies in France and is making a late burst for the tape in Scandinavia as well. Business in Germany, however, remains a little slow, and as for Holland... well, now we're talking about a massive 639 units shifted. Still, at least it means the band don't have to worry about being recognised. Def what?!

By December Leppard should be into America, after which it's likely they'll travel to Japan, though probably not Australia, that stage of the tour having lost them around 60 grand last Feb. Indeed, all in all, their schedule will be less arduous than last time, including more days off to recover and recharge. The band should certainly feel healthier as a result, but then with the Rick Allen episode having shocked the Leppard camp into a highly body-conscious state, that's the way things are heading anyway "I don't want to waste away and vegetate," explains Joe. "I'm 25, I'm supposed to be at the peak of my fitness; I'm supposed to be Glenn Hoddle but I wasn't. I'd run a mile and be out of breath. Now I can run a six minute mile, no trouble, and I do half an hour's worth of exercises every day. 'Sav', Phil and myself all go jogging too - we take less for granted now than we did before..."

[thelvadams]

Who do you think would win a fight between Simon Ghost Riley and John-117?

i think they would make out

[clockwayswrites]

Danny & Constantine, Orange, Butterscotch Ripple

@imbreonix Prompt fill set #4

It started out as a joke that turned into an actual event: Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It sounded absurd, of course it did. The Justice League was hardly work and certainly not a social club, but once it had been said people started to actually think about it. More and more of the heroes were taking on mentorship rolls for the next generation. While the heroes, of course, tried their best to provide what their mentees needed, they were still grown, experienced heroes and their sidekicks were kids.

Kids who lived a life that most could never understand.

Eventually it have been talked about enough in passing and over rushed meals and before meetings that it ended up on the agenda.

“Robin believes it would be beneficial for the younger heroes to know others in the same positions as themselves,” Batman had explained, as if that answered anything. The Big Bat wouldn’t even clarify who Robin was.

But there they were, Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day. It actually was a pretty nice event with snacks, drinks, and several enthusiastic sidekicks. It turned out Robin was Batman’s sidekick.

“Partner,” Robin insisted boldly, whenever the term sidekick was used within his hear range (which was disturbingly good).

The kid was the very opposite of Batman: bright, personable, and always in motion. Flash was more than a little concerned how quickly Robin and Kid Flash seemed hit it off. “They’re plotting something.”

“Hn,” was Batman’s reply, though he was watching the two whispering sidekicks too.

All in all it was a cheerful success.

It made John’s skin crawl. He jiggled the unlit cigarette in his fingers. He didn’t do social events, not outside of bars, and he really, really didn’t want to be here.

“We can just go back to the House,” a small, nervous voice suggested hopefully from behind John.

That was the thing, though, he wasn’t here for his own sake.

“No, we can’t,” John said with a sigh.

“We really can, though. We haven’t even talked to anyone. I bet they haven’t even noticed we’re here—”

“John! I did not think you would be attending,” Wonder Woman said as she approached, a smile in place. A good chunk of the founding members trailed after her.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a little shrug. He didn’t admonish the kid for cussing, he didn’t have a leg to stand on there, but by Superman’s puzzled face the Big Blue had clearly heard it. “Figured I had better bring the kid.”

“The kid?” Hal repeated incredulously.

John reminded himself he really shouldn’t punch his teammates.

“Yeah, the kid,” John said. He stepped aside to reveal Danny who had been hiding behind him. “Geist, Justice League, Justice League, Poltergeist.”

“Um, who, Constantine?” Flash asked, sounding nervous.

John looked to his right, which for all appearances, was an empty spot of air. “Seriously, kid?”

“Sorry,” Danny whispered.

“It’s okay, kid,” John said, holding back a sigh. The kid was sensitive to that sort of thing, so John had been trying. (He still messed up plenty, but he was trying.) John looked back the Justice Leaguers and shrugged. “Ghost. Visibility is like that sometimes.”

“Ah,” Diana said with a sage nod. John admired the woman for how nothing seemed to phase her. She simply looked to where John had been looking and smiled. “Hello, Poltergeist. Welcome to Bring Your Sidekick To Work Day.”

“Partner!” a kid dressed like a damn traffic light called from across the room where he was talking to who was clearly a mini Flash.

“Oh,” Danny said. (It was clearly weirding out some of the heroes to hear Danny but not see him.) “I’m not… John doesn’t let me help that much? I don’t know if I count as a sidekick.”

“That’s because last time you tagged along you went intangible and fell through a bridge, kid,” John grumbled and then immediately felt bad. “You know we’re working on it.”

“Yeah,” Danny mumbled.

John couldn’t see Danny, not any more than the others, but he could picture the way the kid would be scuffing his toe on the floor, head down as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

John sighed. “Ain’t your fault kid, powers take time to master.”

“Robin,” Batman called.

Immediately the tiny traffic light was literately bounding across the space to stand next to Batman. The kid smiled up at the Big Bat like the man had hung the moon.

“Yes, B?”

“This,” Batman said, nodding to the empty space, “is Poltergeist. He came with Constantine.”

“Oh,” Robin said. He spun to face the spot of air and held out his hand without hesitation. “Come, Kid Flash and I are— um,” Robin shot Batman a look, “talking. You can join us! I bet you will be really useful!”

Flash mouthed the word ‘useful’ with a terrified look on his face, but no one actually said anything while Robin just stood there, smiling, with his hand out. And then Robin’s grin impossibly widened, his hand closed around nothing, and he took off across the room.

“…anyone else worried about that?” John asked after a moment.

“So worried,” Flash said.

“Hn,” Batman added.

“Right then. I need a glass of shitty punch to spike,” John said and abandoned his teammates to find the refreshments. Thank the gods, the fuckers, for hip flasks.

-

“I live with a ghost now, Bats, you’ve got to up your skills if you want to sneak up on me anymore,” John said before taking another sip of his much improved punch.

Batman stepped up into the corner of John’s vision, which felt like such a Bat thing to do, so John felt the placement was very purposeful. John wouldn’t complain, it let him watch Batman without taking his his eyes off where Danny was sitting with Robin, Kid Flash, and Wonder Girl. Danny was pretty see through, but he was slowly becoming more visible the longer he spent in the company of the other teen heroes.

“How long have you had him?” Batman asked.

John snorted. “That’s what you go with? Not how it works to fuck a ghost?”

Hal and Aquaman weren’t as quiet as they thought they were, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe they had wanted John to hear. He just hoped the kids hadn’t. He might not have a clean mouth, but even he had limits.

“He doesn’t have to be your blood to be your son,” Batman said in that certain way of his.

It had John finally glancing over at Batman. It was a lot to admit and John hated to be on uneven grounds. “How long have you had yours?”

No one would ever believe him, but John could swear that Batman almost smiled.

“Nearly five years.”

John hummed and took another sip of the punch. “Only six months, not even. And he’s not my son. Kid deserves better than me as a da.”

“They always deserve better,” Batman said, his voice a low rumble that John swore he could feel in his battered bones. “We just have to try to be better.”

“Yeah, well,” John said with a bitter chuckle. “I’m not you, Bats, I don’t think I have better in me.”

“Yes you do, you’re here, after all,” Batman pointed out.

John swallowed and looked back the kid, his kid. Danny was almost solid now. His white hair floated as he threw back his head in laughter at something Robin had said.

“Yeah… yeah I am.”

---

AN: So. So. This has gotten away from me. I blame Moku. So much blame. I can't promise I'll continue it but there is... there is a good bit of plotting TO continue it. It would be after I get done with City Pigeons Bleed Green though, as that's my current family feels fic.

If it gets continued we have a John/Bruce tired dads with issues slow burn fuck buddies to lovers, Danny and Dick being friends (and family), canon divergence, Tim joins the Bat family early, Bats with magic (and the world should fear them), and Alfred's judgemental eyebrow.

[lxvvie]

More goofball shit featuring your faves. This time it revolves around this scenario: your lover is away, you're winding down for the day, and it's that time of the week when you do your face mask. They FaceTime you (or you them, depending), you answer with the mask on, and... reactions may vary. Or something like that.

Capt. John Price - The old man is actually nonplussed about it, if only because you got him the first time he talked to you with your mask on and he damn near had a heart attack. Dropped his cigar in his lap and everything.

Gaz - "Hey, love—oh, shit—!" The call disconnects and you're laughing your ass off. You got him back for pranking you and made damn well sure you were in the dark before you answered him.

Alex Keller - He was tired and wanted to send his love before he got some shut-eye for a bit. Then he saw you and was jolted back awake. Kinda. What really happened was that he spent the next couple of seconds looking crazy as shit and wondering if that was really you. Got his confirmation when he heard your voice. Hell yeah, his ass needs some sleep.

Soap - Kinda sulks in Golden Retriever because he would really like to partake in the goodness that is skincare with you because he really needs to de-stress, his skin isn't doing too good this time around, and you're wearing one of his shirts—how could you tease him like that?! Sulks even more when he finds out you're using the Aloe Vera mask this time, too.

Ghost - You know that one person who you FaceTime and y'all just spend a few minutes looking at each other? That's you and Ghost. His mask is up past his lips so you see the stubble—god, you miss the way it brushes against your inner thigh—and he's just... staring at you. Placidly. And you're staring at his lips him. Not-so-placidly. "Nice mask, lovie," Ghost breaks the silence, and you: "Better than yours, Simon?" He snorts good-naturedly, "Not even close." Cheeky bastard.

Alejandro - Has one of the most anti-climatic reactions ever. Doesn't even miss a beat with whatever it is he's doing and tells you to get some much-needed rest. Also mentally makes a note to take you up on your offer of getting a face mask once he gets home.

Rudy - Stops himself mid-laughter. Tries to hold it in. Busts out laughing. This was after he was startled because how else was he supposed to deal with the nervous energy? "What's so funny, Rodolfo?" Oh, shit, he knows that tone—

König - König.exe is in overdrive because you're using the sheet mask he bought for you. You can't see the goofy smile but you see the way his eyes crinkle. He'll be riding this high for a couple days, give or take. You'd give a smile in return but with the way the mask is practically plastered to your face...

Horangi - He's the one who bets that you'll fall asleep with it on. Bullshit. You were just resting your eyes because you had to keep it on for 20-30 minutes.

Graves - Doesn't even bother to react because he's seen you with a face mask on more often than not. Does pull this stunt though: "Say hey to the guys, darlin'. Wish 'em luck." And there you are in all of your skin-care glory for them to see. You awkwardly say hey and one sweet soul awkwardly waves back. Go to hell, Phillip.

Valeria - Turns out she loves her some face masks as well and y'all could be twinning, babes. And then she finds out which one you're using. "Huh. Sounds familiar. That wouldn't happen to be one of the ones I purchased, would it?" Oh, look at the time, gotta run—

Roach - Hits you with the thumbs up. Until you tell him you got one just for him, too. Uh...

Keegan - Spends the better part of your conversation wondering if you're okay (if the way he keeps staring intensely is any indication) because there can only be one masked mess in this relationship and it sure as hell shouldn't be you. You then had to give him a crash course in skin care.

[romanticintheory]

Can you do something fluffy and domestic with Price. Like maybe him trying to ask civilian reader out on a date, and everything is just going against him. (He eventually does get to ask her whether or not it was how he planned it.)

john wants to ask his favorite waiter/waitress out on a date, but the universe seems to have other plans for him.

john price x gn!reader

part 2

fluff, john trying his best, domesticity

a/n: ty for the request!! you’re my first one so i hope you like it <3 also, let’s just pretend like the timeline of this fic makes sense :)

-

Oh, this poor man was hopeless from the start. He had been interested in you for a while and was finding the courage within himself to finally ask you out. He felt silly about the ache in his chest whenever he thought about what your response might be. He just wanted to do right by you was all. So, when he was finally out of his latest mission and allowed to take a break, he was determined to pop the question to you.

The plan was to stop by the flower shop and buy a simple bouquet for you, but when he found himself in front of the store it had been closed. “Family Emergency. Will be back next week.” He didn’t have a week.

Okay, so, no flowers. It was disappointing, to say the least, but he could make do. 

You were nearing the end of your shift when your coworker, Missy, tapped you on the shoulder. As you turned away from the table you were cleaning, she leaned down and whispered in your ear, “There’s that hot man here, again. He’s asking for you, dear.”

She ended her news with a knowing wink. Looking past her shoulder, you could clearly see John sitting at a table with a menu in his hands. Your cheeks flushed at Missy’s insinuation.

“Thanks,” you managed to choke out, hoping she didn’t notice how flustered you were.

“Of course. That’s the second time, just so you know,” she reminded teasingly, nudging you with her elbow encouragingly before leaving to go attend to her own tables.

Out of the three times John had been to your restaurant (including this one), he spent the last two specifically requesting your presence. Though you tried not to think much of it, you couldn’t ignore the way it made your heart flutter.

Straightening your uniform, you made your way to his table with a genuine smile—a stark contrast to the fake one you give to other customers just for the sake of work. John pretended like he wasn’t secretly watching you in the periphery of his vision and looked up at you once you found your way to him.

“It’s nice to see you again,” you beamed.

“‘S nice to see you too,” he replied, unable to keep that lovestruck smile off his face. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

You laughed softly, “I’ve been alright. You know, just the same old. How about you, John?”

“I’m afraid it’s been the same for me. Just got off a mission.” Not once did his eyes leave yours. It was almost intimidating, the way he was so dedicated to giving you his full attention.

“Really? You’ll have to tell me about it sometime,” you said hopefully.

It was the perfect opportunity for him. All he had to say was, ”Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime,” and he almost pulled it off.

“Actually, I—”

Ring, ring, ring, ring.

Internally cursing himself, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw the contact Laswell flashing on his screen. Usually, when she called, it was something worth hearing. He looked up at you apologetically, but you just smiled and waved your hand at him to let him know it was okay.

Standing up, he answered Kate’s call and pressed his phone between his ear and his shoulder. You couldn’t hear much of what the other person was saying. It was mostly just John nodding his head, saying a quick “yes” or “no,” or mentioning what you assumed were his colleagues' names.

Gathering his things, he turned to you and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave, right now. I apologize for wasting your time like this.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry! It’s nice to have seen you anyway, and I’m glad you’re doing well. I don’t mind, honestly,” you reassured him, secretly disappointed at the fact that his visit was so short-lived.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “If it's not too out of line, may I ask when you get off work?”

Throwing all caution to the wind, you quickly answered, “At about ten thirty.”

“Ten thirty, all right,” he said (more so to himself than you). “Have a good rest of your shift, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, I hope all is well at work,” you nodded, watching as his eyes lingered on your for a moment before he left for the door.

The entire time he was back at work the thought of you sat in the back of his mind. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember why he was there. Something about an important lead? Or maybe a new contact? Honestly, his head was in the clouds.

Even though you didn’t know he was going to ask you out, he still felt guilty for not being able to pop the question to you. As soon as he left the meeting, he was out the door. It was already ten, and it took about twenty-five minutes to get to the restaurant. He silently cursed himself for the second time that day, still determined to get in his car and see if, by some miracle, he could catch you.

He had imagined himself in the exact opposite situation he was currently in. He had wanted to be out of uniform in something more presentable and approachable, being able to spend his time with you without any interruptions. Now, he was having to rush his pace with his uniform on as he attempted to make up for his first failed attempt at asking you out. He didn’t want to be the captain with you, just John Price. 

Peeking into the front door of the now-closed restaurant, he scanned the few workers left inside to see if any of them were you only to be met with disappointment. His frustrated grew ten-fold as he turned away from the door, making his way back to his car.

Just as he was about to hop in, you were exiting the side door with your uniform in hand.

“John?” you called out, stopping just a few feet away from him. You almost didn’t recognize him with the way he was dressed (not that you were complaining).

He whirled around instantly at the sound of your voice. “(Y/n),” he started. “I almost thought I missed you.” You smiled. “No, one of my coworkers needed help with something so I stayed behind just a little bit.” “How kind of you. Most would leave as soon as they were able,” he praised, shutting his car door behind him.

“She’s always been kind to me. I figured the least I could do is repay her.” You paused. “So, uh, what brings you back here so late?”

You.

“Well, I was just…” Why was he nervous? He had asked out plenty of people before (though none quite like you). For Christ’s sake, he was a disciplined soldier capable of incredible feats without breaking a single sweat. He’s faced dangerous criminals with a calm face and a stable mind, but with you, oh, it was like everything he ever learned went out the window.

You waited expectantly with bated breath.

“Well, I was actually wondering if you would want to go out with me sometime. Anywhere you like,” he finally managed. “‘Course, feel free to say no. I promise I won’t be hurt.”

He’s lying, of course, but you didn’t need to know that.

Your face lit up at his question, answering with an immediate, “Yes, I’d love to!”

Finally, finally, he could release the breath he was holding. His shoulders visibly relaxed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned at your response.

“How do you feel about movie and a dinner?”

Maybe it didn't go exactly as he'd planned, but at least you said yes, right?

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Never Love Another

It was no secret that when Jason came back he came back wrong. The violence and pit rage were the most obvious ones of course, but now that it had faded other little things had started to surface. He had noticed this deep loneliness and homesickness for something he couldn’t remember or name. He didn’t know what to do about it besides, well maybe try to find someone who could sooth the loneliness. But it wasn’t working, if it wasn’t for how bad he wanted a romantic connection he would have thought he was aromatic now because he never, Never felt a spark at all, with anyone.

He actually talked to Dick about it, and let him talk Jason into therapy, but that didn’t help, and when Tim found out about it the paranoid little shit started doing tests. And that was how fucking Bruce found out, and he was even more paranoid so they would not believe it was a coincidence or anything and more tests were done. No answers were found until Batman called in a favour from JLD, Jason tried to insist it wasn’t worth it but Batman said his happiness was the most important thing, which made Jason shut up and make a face like he’d bitten into a lemon.

Now he was just trying to avoid admitting that they were right. “What the fuck do you mean cursed?!” Jason demanded from Constantine who shrugged and lit a new cigarette from the butt of the last one.

“I don’t know mate,” He said with a shrug, taking a drag. “While you were dead you must have pissed off some pretty powerful bastard because it’s Not a petty curse either, not the sort of thing I or Zatanna can break. Looks like it’s to ‘never love again’ or something like that, I don’t know it’s not exactly written in words.” He explained and Jason dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

Of course, why wouldn’t this happened? Honestly though as the literature nerd he was he had to think whoever had cursed him must have been of a similar temperament, given how melodramatic is was.  He wished he could remember what the fuck he had done to get cursed like this?

“So how would we break the curse?” Batman asked, ever solution oriented.

“Don’t know Bats,” Constantine admitted with a one shoulder shrug. “I think you’d have to find whoever cursed him and convince them to lift it. They’re a seriously powerful denizen of the Infinite Realms so we could try a summoning but there’s no guarantee that is would work, and if not you’d have to go to them which would be veeery risky. I’m not sure it’d be worth it honestly, I mean it’s a bit of a blessing isn’t it? Not like our lifestyles really lend to romance,” He snickered and everyone ignored him.

“How long will it take to arrange a summoning,” Nightwing demanded with a frown, why he had to be here too Jason didn’t know but… he was privately a little grateful that he was.

“Mmm A couple of weeks, we have most of the stuff required and the unique ingredients aren’t that hard to find,” the magician hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll remind you, there’s no guarantee that it’s going to work,” he reminded and even though Jason hadn’t looked up he could practically sense the twin scowls Dick and Bruce were shooting John.

“We’re going to try it,” Batman growled and Constantine hummed.

“Sure, whatever you say, I’ll start setting it up.”

------

Those two weeks were plenty of time to panic about who it might be, what Jason might have done to cause this, and what the being might do if they answered the summons. They had a lot of preparations to do, but when Jason tried to say they shouldn’t do this Bruce and the others insisted that they needed to know ho had it out for Jason if just in case they decided to cause more problems. There was discussion about if Jason should be present, but he really wanted to be if this was happening, he wanted to see the monster that had cursed him.

Constantine and Zatanna were both there the day of, as well as Batman and Nightwing, and superman, just in case things went horribly wrong. The spell was… stressful for Red Hood, the portal it opened made him feel like he was staring into the Lazarus pits again, even if it was missing the feeling of rage.

It felt like they were all holding their breath for a few long minutes waiting to see if the summon would be answered. Jason was just starting to think that no one was going to answer when a white booted foot stepped through, followed quickly by the rest of the body.

Jason blinked, staring uncomprehendingly at the being that had answered the summons, not because they were some incomprehensible monster, but for the opposite reason, because they looked so human. Not normal, their ashen skin, pointed ears, and white hair that disregarded gravity, made sure of that, but he looked human other then that. A head or so shorter then Jason, lean and agile looking with unusually wide hips and soft curves for a man. His ears were pierced three times, two having studs like planets and a set of dangly ones shaped like a sun and a moon which glinted in the light of the glowing crown on his head. It looked like ice that had trapped the northern lights within them, it was beautiful, it took his breath away.

He had a vague feeling that the others present were talking, but Jason and, it seemed, the spirit, were not hearing them. Jason couldn’t tear his gaze away from the creatures Lazarus green eyes, why did he feel so familiar.

“Jay,” The being breathes, a bright smile spreading across his face, revealing little fangs that shouldn’t have been so adorable. “How did you, you shouldn’t have called me, I don’t… You don’t remember me do you? You shouldn’t,” He breathed, the smile dropping as the initial joy at seeing Jason overtaken by worry.

“We want to know why you cursed my son!” Batman shouted, suddenly cutting through the odd, tunnel version they’d both been trapped in and sending them both reeling. Jason had been leaning forward and ended up stumbling.

“Oh,” The creature sounded, his brows furrowing as Jason finally looked around and noticed how Constantine was cowering.

“Batman! Don’t yell at the fucking king of the Infinite Realms!” Constantine practically squeaked. The king?! How had Jason pissed off the king?! “We’re so sorry for disturbing you your Majesty, please don’t destroy us,” the wizard said, sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

The being still in the circle cackled and crossed his legs under him, sitting on air at the odd cape that looked like it was made of the night sky billowed behind him. “Don’t worry I’m not planning on it, honestly, I am happy to see you again Jaybird,” He said with a soft smile, his gaze going back to Jason like he wanted to drink him in. “You’ve grown so much pretty-bird, are you happy? Do you like being alive again?” He asked worriedly. “You’re always welcome back-“

Nightwing read that as a threat that this supposed King was going to kill Jason again and yanked him back, standing between Jason and the stranger, even though he was shorter and slimmer then Red Hood. “He’s not going anywhere! Why did you curse him?” Nightwing demanded again.

“It wasn’t a curse, it was a price,” Phantom said with a frown. “I would let him go, but not to love another.”

“Love, another?” Jason asked this time, his voice harsh and soft. God how his heart ached, why couldn’t he remember something that made him feel so much longing and pain?

“Another,” Danny said, his voice softening again. “While you were in my realm we were… Close, very close. But you couldn’t let go of life, you weren’t ready to give yourself to me, not fully,” Danny bit his lip for a moment. “It hurt, but I only wanted what was best for you Jay, so if you had unfinished business… well, I let you leave. I did! I let you go, but-but maybe I was selfish, I was going to be waiting decades for you and-and I couldn’t stand the idea of waiting that long only for you to have fallen in love again with someone in life and, even after dying and remembering me, choosing to stay with them! So that was the deal, you get to live again, but only if you don’t love again, and you come back to me when you’re done. You agreed.”

There was a long silence as everyone processed what the king had said, it was Constantine who reacted first, rounding on Jason. “You dated the King of the Infinite Realms!?” He demanded, flabbergasted.

“Ugh, just call me Danny, I’m the king sure but I don’t care much for the title,” The bring in front of them corrected with a grimace.

“Danny,” Nightwing said, holding out his hand in a sort of placating gesture. “Can you… change the price?” He asked uncertainly.

“NO!” Danny said instantly, his voice echoing in a way that made those present flinch. “No, the deal still stands. I let him leave my kingdom, but I won’t completely give him up. I can’t, I can’t,” Danny said and Jason could swear he saw Danny’s eyes glimmer with tears.

“It’s alright,” Jason said, softly as he could, Danny’s pain called to him in a way he couldn’t explain. “It’s just, I’ve been lonely, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something since I came back. I thought it was love, but now I think, I think it’s you. I’ve been homesick, for You,” He said, stepping closer again and holding out his hand. John yelped when Jason broke the circle, but he was being ignored.

Danny’s eyes widened in shock, then welled over with tears as he reached out and took Jason’s hand, his feet landing back on the ground as he stepped closer. “I’ve missed you too Jaybird, I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe,” He practically whispered. As he stepped over the line a white ring ran up and over his body, leaving a- well, for all appearances a human man with similar features and inverted colours, maybe a little younger then Jason. “I’m sorry you’ve been lonely, but I wanted to let you live your life. If you want, I could visit more? I would be happy to put in the work to, start over, let you get to know me in this life?” He laced their fingers together, taking Jason’s other hand as well, standing chest to chest and looking up at him through dark lashes, framing beautiful clear blue eyes.

“I would love that,” Jason breathed. Startled by a sound of disbelief behind him, he’d forgotten Nightwing was there and he glanced back. “What? It solves the problem of me being unable to love, it turns out I was just trying to love the wrong people.

[pixiesndberries]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 141 — 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

CONTENTS : calling them while being drunk at 3:00 am.

CHARACTERS : captain price, soap, ghost, and gaz.

WARNING : none just on crack lmaoaoa 😭

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i need to think about this million times, and it took me million times to have a motivation also (i do nsfw..for the one who wanted to request *wink* *wink*) 😇

JOHN PRICE :

— lad is sleeping peacefully after a long rest after a tough mission, his nokia went ringing like hell and literally thought the fire alarm went BRAHHH. Old man was flabbergasted and looks like having an heart attack at 3:00 am.

DAD MODE 100 % he would actually think about it for a moment whether he would pick you up or not because he's unsure what things about to happen. Would be worried for a moment since your friends took over in the phone to help you make him pick you up.

WOULD 100 % NAG AT YOU IN THE CAR. I SAID WHAT I SAID 🗣️‼️ and it made the whole ride like this.

;

"price i think i will puke the cheerios i ate." you laugh with little hiccups while he was driving stressed while wearing his pajamas on. "hey hey, dont ya' fookin' open that damn window!" he says pulling you away while driving with one hand literally jamming in the whole rode as tokyo drift plays in the car radio.

SOAP :

— i feel like he's either the one calling you or he is with you 😭 ok but like let's stick with this scenario with him. He was having a nice sleep of course, and ik he snores like this IM SORRY LMAO and his phone started ringing like hell and he went crazy thinking it was the fire alarm.

he would pretend to act like he hates you for not inviting him to drink with you as he was getting ready to leave to pick you up; he's trying to stay in contact with you because first of all you are heavily drunk and just very very late so it's not THAT safe for you so he tried his best to keep in contact with you until he arrives.

He almost crash the car tbh and he almost hit a deer 😇.

;

"really not invitin' me? i feel offended." he chuckles teasing your drunk ass, "it's not like that!" you whine nudging him thinking he's actually mad at you. "do you hate me?" you asked looking at him like you were about to cry or something, "yes." "fuck you." "nope you're drunk." (the whole ride is just on crack tbh)

GHOST :

— MY MAN IS TRYING TO HAVE A REST ONCE FOR HIS LIFE 😭 (please let this man have a vacay) yet you were there, just as he feels like he's sleeping (ik damn that felt good for him) when suddenly HIS PHONE STARTED TO RING. Bro was ready to pull the trigger, but he took a deep breath; at first he never wanted to answer the phone but when he saw those messages that was typed by your friends saying that you need a ride home because you are heavily drunk. Okay for a moment he think about it he was like, if i pick this motherfucker up is there a benefit? okay what if something happens to them then it's my fault?

WHEN HE PICKED YOU UP HE HAS HIS BALACLAVA ON AND YOU WERE SO DRUNK THAT YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GETTING KIDNAPPED 😭‼️ and you were like asking for help and shit and he's just there continues to drive wishing he just made a better decision to burn his phone down. seriously.

after like a whole ass minute you finally shut up and just watch him drive silently 😞 and of course he was like "finally."

;

you were watching him drive silently when the car suddenly passed by your favourite fast food chain making you quickly go feral like hell, "I WANT A BITE PLEASE." you say as you keep pulling his shirt trying to make him stop driving, "no." he says as he just continues to drive tiredly, MAN WAS SO DONE. "please mr kidnapper 😭" "lord help me."

GAZ :

— like soap he was sleeping peacefully and snores like mimimimimi 😇💕 when you called and says that you needed a ride home because you were drunk (you tried insisting that you are not THAT drunk 😭) bro was worried so he was like okay sure so he didn't hesitate but to pick you up even though he still felt sleepy. He really cares for you so he really don't mind.

when he picked you up he helped you going inside the car, putting the car seat on a comfortable position; YOU ARE TREATED LIKE A ROYAL 🗣️‼️ You were mumbling and talking about some topics he doesn't know but continues to listen because he knows you are heavily drunk and you barely know what's happening.

HE'S THE TYPE OF GUY YOUR PARENTS WOULD TRUST FR ‼️

;

"-and and this guy came up on me and like hey shawty you need some good dicking there? And i was like fuck you dude!" you continue to babble even though it looks like you were already getting pulled by your sleep making Gaz laugh, "hey that's actually creepy thank god you went away from him." he says calmly as he continues to drive, "yeah yeah- and- and-"

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED. FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[sontarangaming]

Getting Arrested 101

In light of yesterdays ruling on the Miranda rights, now that the cops don't need to read you your rights, I figure it's as good a time as any to make a crash course post on what to do if you get arrested in the US. Know your rights and how to invoke them, because cops will try and trick you into reneging on them whenever they can. Here's my bible on engaging with police, and feel free to add on if you have other tips.

If you encounter police at all, especially if it's for a protest, engage as little as possible. Protests will sometimes have police liaisons; if they do, deflect the cops onto them. They have training for this. Otherwise, say nothing to them if they don't engage first.

If they engage first, do not escalate. Cops are trained to try and escalate situations. It wins them PR, and it makes it easier for them to justify violence against you and in turn, the other protestors. I don't care how punk you think it is, do not escalate.

When they engage, if you think you're being arrested, ask them in no uncertain terms and demand a clear answer. Say "am I being arrested," and if they evade, repeat it until the answer is no or yes. If it's no, walk away and don't engage further. If it's yes, then:

Shut the fuck up. Say absolutely nothing from this point forward until you reach the station. No matter what they say, no matter how serious or casual the conversation is, you say nothing. Zip. No exceptions. This is especially important to remember because they will try and humiliate you and make the arrest process as difficult as possible to try and make you crack, so do the simplest thing and say nothing.

If you are arrested, once you make it to the station, there's a simple three step process to remember. Exact wording isn't necessary, but try and be close. Remember, you don't want to be Lawyer Dogged. Once again, be as clear as you possibly can.

"Am I being detained?" If no, leave. If yes, then say:

"I invoke my right to have a lawyer present." Any time they try and push on that, you say:

"As I am detained, I invoke my right to remain silent until my lawyer is present."

You want it to be 100% undeniable, in as much of the record as possible, that you were being detained, and therefor you need a lawyer. Otherwise, the cops will retroactively decide you weren't actually held there, and therefor you had no rights to invoke, so get that shit down. And once again, aside from saying #3, shut the fuck up. Same principle applies as #4 on the first list: they will do whatever they can to get you talking, and once they do, they'll say "oh, they decided to not use the lawyer after all because they started talking without one." So do. Not. Budge.

Lastly, some general pieces of advice, both for before and during the arrest process:

If you're going to a protest, the sort of thing where arrests can be planned for, there will likely be an organizer with some experience. They may be able to give you specific advice for that protest with regards to things like ID, liaisons, or any specific protocol. Check with them as well.

If you're in a situation where arrests are likely or expected, especially with a protest, plan accordingly. Power off your phone and deactivate the fingerprint or facial recognition unlock options, or leave it at home entirely. Don't bring anything you wouldn't want to be arrested with. Think carefully about leaving your ID at home, though. John Doe-ing can cause extra trouble for the cops (good), but it's also risky, since it can make it harder for you to pay for bail and can make things harder for you down the line.

Police always lie. Let me repeat. Police. Always. Lie. Again, Police. Always. Lie. This should be your fucking mantra. They will tell you you'll get out easier if you cooperate. They will tell you any information they can find about your friends and family. They will threaten you and them. This is all hollow. Your friends have rights as well. All of this is posturing to get you to talk and incriminate you and your friends. Police always lie.

Every American should know this, but it's especially important for any activist, or advocate. Knowing your rights is the only defense you have against cops, so you need to game that system to keep them from gaming it back.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.2

George: We don't have to keep [an image] up, we just remain ourselves. Don't we, Ringo? Ringo: well, we do, I mean, it's the other two we're worried about. It's a joke about John and Paul being bigheads, but a crazy person – definitely not me – could also see it other ways if they wanted to.

Paul talking about their mutual friend when asked how they met and John telling him not to complicate it. They're so married it's ridiculous. 

Always looking at each other with every single joke. 

He looks like he's in a lovely enclosure at the petting zoo. I've always been so confused by this footage. Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?

I LOVE that we now know Paul was cast as Thisbe and John as Pyramus and then they switched. I'm actually dying to know how and why that happened though. My first instinct was “of course. Paul was scared he'd look too convincing as a woman, so John did it for him.” But no. Paul dressed as a woman at the cavern, wore ladies lingerie in Hamburg, and wanted to do a full drag show on TV in the early seventies. So why not Thisbe?

Why do you as a man randomly bring up the color of your friend's dick while staring lovingly into his eyes?

It must be noted. They had a wonderful time playing star-crossed lovers. 

The bickering pianos are so cute! And then John (prompting Paul): and John and I . . . Paul: oh I hate this. John: will probably carry on . . . Paul: we'll carry on songwriting . . . You just know Paul didn't hear the end of that one interview answer for a long long time. And it's because John just had to hear it over and over again.

Love the editing so that Paul smacks John's ass right as the symbols crash. 10/10 A+

This iconic moment. Poor George tally number 4.

Interviewer brings up marriage and John takes a shot like he wants to forget that the whole concept even exists. Literally poor Cynthia. And not even in an “lol her husband's gay” type of way. Just in a genuine “the way their relationship fell apart actually breaks my heart because she really did love him and in his way he loved her too but they were just so thoroughly incompatible” type of way. 

Paul: makes a stupid dad joke. John: giggles gleefully and kicks his feet

I have never seen someone so disappointed that they didn't need to lend their friend a pen. Paul had his hand in his pocket before John even asked the interviewer for a pen and when the interviewer gives him one, Paul literally hangs his head like he's just been cut from the school play. I just. The obsession is frankly cartoonish. But also, he just needs to be needed, you know? How many songs does he have which conflate being needed and being loved?

The juxtaposition of Paul and John elaborately messing with the interviewer (“yes John Lenard, that's me” and “actually it's done by mirrors.”) vs George's “I don't know” and “yeah.” it's actually kind of mean editing but whatever. It is ULM not UH. Someone should make that though.

Again, John. Calm down. He's not that funny. Just look at Jimmy. That's the normal person's reaction to that joke. John is half the reason Paul has such a big head honestly. 

Paul's answer to a question about the Beatles gaining a lot of adult fans is nice. Sometimes he shocks with a bit of wisdom. Sometimes his words don't get messed up at the point they hit his throat as he says. 

What the fuck? Okay so the interviewer asks Paul what he likes in a girl, right? I've always been too distracted by Paul saying he likes a sense of humor and John doing an obnoxious fake laugh in the background because John. It's embarrassing how obvious you are. Stop.

But I never noticed Paul actually says “people”. The interviewer asks about girls and he says he likes “people - er - girls” to have a sense of humor. Huh. Okay. 

So ULM was actually what made me a serious Beatles fan and this was the first moment where I had to pause it and verify to see if what I'd just read was actually true. It really is a doozy. 

How to flirt. A guide by Paul McCartney. Step one: get your crush’s attention. This should be extremely easy. Just gesture vaguely at something you're holding. He'll be interested. Step two: do something suggestive to a phallic object. Step three: that's it. You've got him. He'll do whatever you want.

The editing in this thing truly is brutal. Just the jump cuts from a question about Cynthia to John and Paul making each other laugh to girls screaming to John and Paul unnecessarily touching to girls passed out on the ground to John and Paul desperate for each other's attention to girls waving signs to John and Paul sharing weird eye contact to girls physically mobbing them to John and Paul beaming at each other to a question about Jane. It really does drive home the immense pressure of compulsory heterosexuality back then. 

Then a question that's obviously meant to poke a nerve and start some bad feelings. “Paul. Is John the leader of the Beatles?” Easily rebuffed with “no I'm not” and “there's no real leader”. I know I'm dramatic but really it's like every aspect of that society was against them you know? And they just kind of said "fuck you, we're crazy about each other."

Question: what do they think about when they're imprisoned in their hotel rooms? John: we don't think about one thing. *Whips head to look at Paul* well, some of us do. Oh and you know that how exactly? What, do you just have a printout of his every thought? Do you keep constant tabs on his dick?

Someone give me the heterosexual explanation of that moment when John very clearly and obviously checks out and appreciates Paul's ass as he and Ringo are pretending to be cowboys. Seriously. I'm at a loss here. 

Poor George tally number six? Seven? They're asked what they'll do if England reinstates the draft. John brings up Southern Ireland. George brings up Germany. Paul and John plan their joint escape to Southern Ireland as if George hadn't even spoken. 

The choice to play “Another Girl” over that quote of John's being like ‘Paul's actually much meaner than i am’ is great. Because that's seriously such a jerk song. I don't much like Jane, honestly, but fuck, she deserved so much better than Paul. He was such a douche.  

Literally all the song choices in this are phenomenal. “Hide Your Love Away” over the montage of 60s homophobia moments? It's so genius. Saying everything without saying anything. Letting the Beatles do the talking. 

The laugh track over the cartoon is honestly so sad. Nobody asked them if they were okay with being mocked like that and they never even made a dime off it. What would that have felt like to know that your being “too close” with your best friend was a running joke on TV?

“It's only love and that is all. Why should I feel the way I do?”

[blingblong55]

Darling toy -John Price NSFW

Based on a request:

Hi! I love your writing it’s just mwah. This is my first time requesting anything so I’m a little shy but I hope you’ll consider it. I was thinking Price x Fem!Reader with kinda D/S dynamics. Reader who is usually a brat but for once is actually being ‘compliant’ or just sweet in general! And Price rewarding her. I’d loveeee to see that! ---- F!Reader, MDNI, smut, 18+, established!relationship, ----

A/N: this one is really shitty so I think I'll come back and rewrite it...sorry

A relationship with him is far from "normal" especially since you are more of a brat and he is a strict dom. He had a lot of past relationships that were very obedient but you....oh you're a devil. And he likes to play with you. 

Every time he wanted to have sex, you'd oppose and play games with him. He'd never force you of course but when you'd give consent, he would fuck you senseless. Your pretty face was red from the times he slapped you, wanting to hear you scream his name.

He wanted to get adventurous at the beach and all you would do was pretend some lame book was more important.  

However, today you felt like finally giving in. You knew he was having a hard day and before you gave him some snarky comment, he walked into his office, shutting the door behind him. Not once did he even try to make some comment towards you. 

After much hesitation, you knock on his door but not one answer comes through. You walk in, that tight skirt of yours letting those hips of yours sway and give him a better view. "Not today, darling," he sighs out. You're a brat, aren't you? You never listen, always go against his word so why must you listen today? It's not bad when all you want to do is please him. 

You shake your head, walking closer and all he does is lean back on his chair. "I said not today," he mumbles and you smile, slowly kneeling and getting in between his thighs. Your soft hands undoing his belt all while John smirked. Maybe today was a good day after all. 

Your gaze falls on his as over his boxers, you stroke his cock. "Want to relieve some stress?" you so innocently say and he smiles. He adjusts himself on the chair and moves your hair out of your face. "Oh darling," he smiles and leans in, kissing you before he pulls his boxers down. "C'mon darling, just once," his calloused hands brushed your hair away from your pretty face. 

Your plump lips meet his swollen tip. Your tongue licking and tasting his lengthy cock. A groan escapes from his lips because of this, it's sweet to feel you take in his size. John begins to gain speed on this, his hand pushing your mouth further into his cock. The pleasure mounting to get him near the edge but he wants to make this last, he needs to make it last. 

You didn't push away as you always did, you were allowing it and giving him more. His cock slowly throbbed as the sensation felt good. His groans, "feels so fucking good," a smile appears on his lips. His large hands pushed your mouth further in, making you gag at his size. You try and push away to catch your breath but he keeps you in your place. "Not so fucking fast," he growls. 

Throat inspection he calls it. 

Your eyes are teary as his fat cock fucks itself deeper into you.

His balls tighten as he feels pre-cum leak into your mouth. Your rhythm slows down, trying to tease him more. He can't have that though, not now. He needs this. 

"Don't fucking test me, darling," he says and fucks his cock deeper into you. His cum leaking into you, filling your mouth, and letting out a sigh of relief. "Fuuuuckkk," he moans and pulls out of your mouth. Almost immediately, he kisses you and smiles. "That's my good girl," he whispers and picks you up to sit you on his lap. Your pretty little skirt allows his thick fingers to caress your thighs. 

"Love you, doll," he kisses you once more and keeps you tightly close to him. 

Tags:

@mirzamsaiph @liyanahelena @uniquecroissant @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @anonymuslydumb @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @@who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @@sleepyycatt

[princessmaybank]

Truth or Dare PT2

Pairings: BestFriend!JJ x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Squirting, oral (both), 69, embarrassment, Rafe calling, p in v, etc.

Summary: Part 2 of TorD

Authors Note: Don't know why this posted by itself again, but it was also not finished. I hope you enjoy it and if you want a part 3 let me know!

When you finally came down from your high, your cheeks were burning from embarrassment. You just pissed yourself in front of JJ, or so you thought. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what happened...I tried to tell you." You responded to JJ as you got off of him and onto the bed. You hugged your knees to your chest and tried not to cry. "You have no idea what you just did, do you baby?" He smiled lightly to himself. You shook your head and hid in your lap. "I just pissed myself on my hot best friend's lap." You sounded like you were about to cry.

You felt a pair of hands lightly pushing your knees apart. You fought him but when he finally got them open, he placed kisses to your heat. This only caused more embarrassment. You squeezed your legs together, only slightly crushing his head between your thighs so he would back away, but it only caused him to moan. "Damn baby, keep doin that." He said continuing his licks. "The squeezing or the pissing?" You say annoyed.

JJ's hands grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him. He was now hovering you with his right hand holding him up. "Stop saying that." He said as stern and as serious as he could. "I'm sorry.." You say sweetly. He gently tucked a piece of hair that had fallen in your face, behind your ear. "You have nothing to be sorry for baby."

The heat rose to your cheeks again. Of course you did. It was the most embarrassing thing that could have happened in that moment. "Can we just lay down.. I'm not really in the mood anymore, and you said we have things to talk about." You say trying to hide yourself.

"As much as I'd love to talk about how I cockblocked Rafe, I'm more interested in talking about how you just squirted." He stifled a laugh. "Those two things sound beautiful together. I cockblocked Rafe from you then I made you squirt. Fuck." His dick twitched in his pants, but you didn't notice because you were processing his words. "Squirt?" You asked, you had no idea what that meant. He giggled to himself. "Basically you reached your peak but harder. Not everyone can do that though, you're talented." He reached over and rubbed your thigh. "Is that a good thing though?" You asked. "It's fucking amazing. It means our bodies work well together." JJ saw the look of relief come over your face as he smiled. He gave your forehead a little kiss. "Okay baby, serious question now that that is all cleared up." He seemed hesitant. "Are you actually done cause I need to know if I have to go wring myself out or not." His question caused laughter to erupt from you. "Let me take care of you. It's only fair."

JJ relieved himself of his clothes and climbed on the bed. Just as your lips were getting ready to touch his tip he spoke. "Wait- can we try something..?" He cautiously asked. You nodded in excitement as he described what he wanted to do.

You ended up sitting on his face and had his dick in your mouth. Being in 69 with JJ is not where you thought you'd be tonight. The sounds of moans and slurping and gagging are filling the room. Apparently the two of you don't care if Sarah and John B hear you. To be fair they've kept you both up before.

Just as you started sucking on JJ's balls, your phone began to ring. You stopped what you were doing to check it. "Who is it?" JJ asks taking his lips away long enough to only ask that question. "Rafe.." You responded. "Answer it." He sounds more bossy this time. He reattached his lips to your lower ones making a moan slip from you.

You answered the call waiting for him to speak first, but you heard a groan on the other side. "Hi, Y/N..I think our call dis-disconnected earlier. I've been trying to reach you since." He stumbled out. "So-sorry rrrafe" JJ's tongue was working wonders. "Put it on speaker baby." JJ whispered beneath you. You complied. "Are you touching yourself again baby?" You didn't know how to answer and JJ slapped your ass making you yelp a "yes" into the phone.

Suddenly you felt a hand reach up and steal your phone. He sucked on you harder and made it way louder than it needed to be. "Actually I'm touching her. Let me just say, she tastes so fucking good." He smirks into your pussy. He stuck his tongue into your hole which released a loud moan from your lips. "Is this some kind of fucking joke?" Rafe sounded angry.

JJ pulled his mouth away from you and slipped to fingers in to replace it. He was going just as fast as he did before. "You hear how wet her pussy is for me? If only you fucking knew." He announced. You couldn't help the tingling in your lower area. It was that same feeling that JJ introduced you to before. "Fuck! I'm gonna squirt Jayj." You couldn't help but scream out, Rafe definitely heard you. Before you could move, you were releasing your juices onto JJ's face. The moans that came from you were heavenly and JJ was almost stunned.

"I'd love to sit and chit-chat with you Cameron but as you can clearly hear, I'm busy." JJ said and hung up the phone. You got out of the position you were in so you could look at JJ. He looked shocked and so fucking happy. "I'm sorry JJ." You felt so bad. "That was so fucking amazing." He was on a high and he didn't even cum. His muscular arms pulled you closer and he pushed his lips to yours. He lifted you onto his lap as your make out became more heated. Your pussy found his cock and you began to grind on it, causing him to moan into your mouth.

You took this advantage and slipped onto his dick. The most pornstar sounding moan spilled from his mouth as you lowered yourself. "Fuck you're gonna ruin me baby." He gasped.

[firsttimewriter92]

No hero, just me

Captain John Price x (f!)reader

Summary: You got abducted and John, along with his team is sent to rescue you. When the get-away vehicle is sabotaged, you have to walk the rest of the way to safety. John seems unusually worried and caring towards you. Are you actually just a military higher ups daughter or something more to him?

Warnings: Abduction, canon typical violence, injuries, pining, longing, slow burn, angst, kissing, parental issues(!)

A/N: Hi everyone. This idea has been brewing for a while and upon popular demand I created the story around the lovely Captain. Please note that I not only discuss your relationship with Price but also with your family. So for those who have parental issues, please read with caution. Otherwise please enjoy :)

Words: 11.976 (Yeah, that might have escalated a little)

It was cold. So fucking cold. Your aching back was leaned against an icy brick wall, your knees pulled up to your chest. With shallow breaths you tried to stay as warm as possible but it seemed like with every day that passed, your hope of rescue dwindled. At least that´s what you were sure off. You scoffed at your abductors stupidity. Had they not done their research?

Lieutenant General August _____ was everything but a devoted father. Maybe he once was when you were a child but as soon as you became older it became clear as day to you that his priorities had shifted. It was devastating to watch your brother completely lose himself in trying to impress his father. With flying success though. He was on his way on becoming a Colonel and your father paraded him around at functions like he was his most priced possession. But Alexander himself…he was a mere shadow of a person with character, edges or a mind of his own. It infuriated you. Your mother was the same. Only worse. She clung to the respect, grace and riches your fathers position came with, with such force, that every smile of hers since you were ten years old had only been a forced grimace. The only genuine thing about her? Every proud look she gave her son, every devoted gaze she gave to her husband…and every ounce of disappointment and caution she gave you.

It wasn´t like you rebelled against your family. You weren´t involved in any sex scandals, drug problems or any other affairs. Quite the opposite. You tried your hardest to stay away from those things. But that also meant staying away from your families affairs. You didn’t want anything to do with anything. You hated the fancy dinners and balls. You hated the pretentious smiles, conversation and frankly boring as fuck people your parents surrounded themselves with. And how much they played into their cards to hold up the good family reputation. So it was no wonder that your parents became more and more irritated with you when they saw your blatant disinterest in the military, politics or any of it. How you showed up at parties and dinners, not talking much, not engaging and just waiting for the time to pass you by. It wasn’t what they were used to from your brother.

Needless to say your relationship with your parents didn’t exactly improve from then on. You´d moved out as soon as your mother didn’t throw a fit anymore and within a week, you found a flat way outside London in a quiet village. You were thankful to the great education you´d received however. It allowed you to work from home and you only had to come into the office about twice a month. You loved it. Alexander had helped you move and when it was just the two of you, you could see the very sharp and quite witty brother you had shine through. He and you have had several conversations about your respective situations and there was a mutual acceptance that the other sibling just wanted to have everything or nothing to do with it.

So why not Alec? Why wasn’t Alec sitting here, wondering what had gone wrong? Well, that was actually an easy question to answer. Because he was overseas. You groaned and hugged your knees closer. Of course your parents would receive a ransom demand for you. But how quickly would they react? It had been days. Days and you were sure that you weren´t even in the UK anymore. The ride in the van had been hours long. And the helicopter flight had been even longer.

You heard the shackles outside the door rattle once again and the panic crept into your veins as it had been each time it happened. The door opened but you couldn’t lift your head. A tray was placed in front of you and a deep chuckle reached your ears. It was cold and condescending. “Really” the voice snarled with a thick accent you couldn´t place. “I would´ve guessed your father to have reacted by now. What a shame.” The man stood up again and before closing the door again said with a much more sinister voice, “If he don’t react soon, holding you will not have much benefit, will it?”

You knew what he was trying to say with that. And even though you were somewhat estranged from your family, you´d never guessed they´d let you die like this. It hurt. It hurt fucking bad. It shouldn´t have been a problem to meet their demands with the social status and power your father held. What in the world were they asking for, for your father to wait so long to react?

Suddenly, your thoughts were cut short by a loud bang and then….shots. Shots? What the hell was going on?! You were on your feet as quickly as you could and winced from the pain your stiff legs and numb feet were in. You hears voices shout. They were coming closer. In a panic you remembered something your father had thought you. As quickly as you could you wobbled over to the door and stood in a way that would conceal you for a split second once the door was opened. A split second that could give you an advantage. You readied yourself, pounding onto your thighs with your fists to warm up your muscles and praying they wouldn’t give up on you.

A moment later it was quiet behind the door and you almost thought whoever was in front of it had left. Then, with a bang that nearly toppled you over it swung open and you pounced. Your fists made contact with a solid body and only your momentum made the man stumble a little to the side before another one grabbed your shoulders. Yelling from the top of your lungs you fought as if your life depended on it until you heard it. “Calm down, Ms.___. We´re here for you! Your father sent us. Calm down!” You halted your movements and looked around. A massive man stood in the doorway, almost cutting off all light from the corridor. Another one stood to the side and it seemed like he was the one you pounced on first. Both men were clad in heavy armour and facemasks. The one holding your arms however was only slightly taller than you. Same facemask and armour though.

You were panting and looking around wildly until the man spoke again. “Are you all right, Ms.___? Can you walk?” His voice was stern, deep and only slightly hurried. You looked at him again as a little bit of relief washed over you. You nodded slightly before you spoke. “I think so” you rasped. The man lowered your arms and gave you a once over. Seeing your whole body shiver violently he sucked on his teeth and bellowed “Soap, Ghost, make sure the path´s clear. She´s not well on her feet.” With that he quickly but surprisingly gently wound an arm around your waist and guided one of yours over his shoulder, supporting you as you began to move. He might as well have been carrying you. The way all three of them moved was nothing short of deadly precision. It seemed though they had successfully killed everyone that was inside the run down building. The scene you where stumbling through looked like a badly orchestrated film set.

Several times you´d stopped behind the men named Ghost and Soap while they checked if the way was clear. When the man next to you dragged you outside it was pitch black. You couldn’t see for a second but trusted the man who was guiding you. It felt like an eternity that you stumbled, ran and slit through the night. Only your own panting and an occasional, softly grumbled warning from the man beside you. “To your left, Ms.___. Careful” “There´s a small hill up ahead” “Hold onto me” “Don´t let go, you´re doing great”

The moment you felt like your feet couldn’t go no further you heard Ghost and Soap opening car doors in front of you. Finally, with the prospect of sitting in a safe vehicle with people that were there to rescue you, you collapsed onto the bench in the back and began hysterically crying. Sobbing, you curled up onto the seat, yet again realising that your limbs were cold as ice and aching. As the vehicle began to move you felt the soldier that had been jumping into the back with you move. A moment later a heavy warm blanket was thrown over your shoulders. Grabbing onto it like a life line you scrambled to throw it around your feet.

“Hold on” the man said gruffly and took your hands in his. “Shit” he grumbled and kneeled down in front of you. Almost hectic he pulled the blanket over you more tightly before removing your shoes. You were whimpering in protest but he just looked up at you. Pleadingly. You stopped struggling immediately. Why was he looking at you like that? Your vision blurred as you tried to make out his features. He´d removed the facemask.

A full beard, moustache and mutton chops, a full lower lip, piercing blue eyes. Blue, so blue. His hands were still moving until your feet were out of your shoes and soaked socks. Compared to your feet, his hands were scolding hot as he began rubbing your feet with them, all the while not breaking eye contact. “We need to warm them up” he whispered. You simply nodded and another tear rolled down your cheek. “I know” he said and held your feet. “I know. It´s over,___. It´s over.”

It took you a moment to realise that he´d just used your first name. You nodded your head. “Over” you whispered and began silently crying again. For another few minutes, the soldier constantly rubbed your feet as fatigue clouded your mind. You felt your body fall forward. Another moment later the soldier caught your falling and guided it onto the seat again. He gently pushed a little further so you lay down on the seats. With the last remains of your strength you felt him wrapping you up in the blanket, a little feeling returning to your feet.

“What´s your name?” You thought he hadn´t heard you because it was a mere whisper that left your lips. Then you saw those eyes again, right in front of your face as a gentle warm hand removed a strand of hair from your forehead. “John Price” he said in a calm tone. “My name is Captain John Price.”

Dull voices reached your ears and slowly you came to. “…do you mean, dead?” “It´s dead, what can I tell you?” “Bastards! They sabotaged the gas tank. There´s a hole in it.”

Holding your head you sat up realising that the car had stopped. The captains head moved towards you. Quickly he moved to your side. “I´m afraid we´re broken down. We need to walk the rest of the way to the evac-point.” He looked at you apologetically. “How are your feet?” His hand moved underneath the blanket and gently stroked your feet, checking their temperature. “I´ll be fine” you said, moving your toes. “They´ve warmed up quite well.” The captain nodded. He only seemed half optimistic.

“Here” he handed you something from his duffle bag. “Your shoes are dry now but your socks are a mess. Wear those. They…might me a bit big.” If the situation hadn’t been any different you would have laughed at the way he said it. As you moved your still aching muscles and pulled on the socks and your shoes you looked at him and asked “How long do we have to walk?” His shoulders sacked for a moment and dread filled your veins. He opened the doors in the back, threw out his duffle bag and jumped out. Turning towards you he held out his hand to help you get out of the car. When your hand moved into his, you were again astounded by its warmth. “I´m afraid it´s quite a walk” he said as you jumped and stood in front of him.

Looking up slightly into his face you were able to make out more in the pale light of dawn. His mutton chops accentuated slight chubby cheeks and a freckle dusted nose. Damn. He was handsome. You were pretty sure that his stature was not only this bulky because of the gear he was wearing. His shoulders stood out in relation to his narrow waist and big thighs. You swallowed hard when you realised that his hand still held yours. “We´ll take one day at a time. You´re safe” he repeated with conviction to make you believe.

“Price.” The massive man you´d seen before called out to him. The captains hand let go of yours and a shiver ran down your back. All three men stood in front of you, ready to leave. “It´s a three day hike. We have to cross a border for them to pick us up otherwise there´s going to be a problem. Officially-” John Price looked at you with a slight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We´re not even here.”

You again nodded and prepared for a long walk. John stepped in front of you for a moment and as to reassure himself that you were ready, tucked the blanket you were still wearing tighter around your shoulders before leaning his head to the side for a moment. Looking up at him you tried to smile reassuringly. He didn’t seem quite convinced but nodded his head once before gesturing you to move in front of him. You followed the other men that waited a bit down the road.

Soon however you made a right and left the deserted road. The sun began to rise and you could see that the man named Ghost lead you towards a mountain range. You gulped. You weren’t nearly as fit as these three men and frankly felt bad for them as they marched on in their armour, holding their weapons and duffle bags. The paths you took gradually became more narrow and more steep. Your feet began to hurt again but not because of the cold this time. You´ve walked quite a way in a tempo that you weren’t used to and a terrain that was less than forgiving.

When you reached some sort of level ground you were panting and sweating. Trying not to make it obvious that you were out of shape compared to your rescuers, you tried to gulp down the pants and discreetly wiped the droplets of sweat from your forehead. To your left and your right, massive walls of stone reached up into the sky, making the path in front of you quite dark although it must have been midday by now. It seemed like Ghost lead you down a huge gash right between the mountain when the path suddenly fell into a steep decline. With an agile elegance that you wouldn’t have guessed coming from a man like him, Ghost began climbing down.

“Soap.” You turned around to the commanding voice and the man with the mohawk turned around right on the edge of the decline. “Switch places with me. I need your eyes in the back.” Soap nodded immediately and walked passed you. He sent you a friendly little smirk just as John Price came to a halt next to you. “You´ll need your hands for this, there´s loose rubble all along this path” he said and took the blanket from your shoulders. The look in his eyes was almost pained. “Sorry” he said as he rolled up the blanket and stuffed it in his bag. “Here, this´ll help for now. Uhm…” he rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a long sleeve, olive green shirt. Holding it out to you he looked quite sheepish. “I´m sorry I…I had to use it before we got to you so…it´s not fresh or anything, but It´ll have to-“ You grabbed it immediately and gave him a grateful smile. “It´ll do just fine, thank you, Captain.” You pulled it over your head immediately, so you didn’t see John blink several times or the curious look Soap shot his Captain.

When you emerged from the too big shirt you nervously looked at the pathway before you. “Don´t worry” John said and gently touched your shoulder. “Ghost will be scouting, I´ll be right in front of you and Soap behind. Nothing´s going to happen.” His raspy voice and still scorching warmth gave you a funny yet very pleasant feeling in your guts. “Okey” you said and took a breath. “Okey.”

So, with the captains huge back in front of you, you started climbing down. You were slow. Many times you needed the help of either John or Soap. Soap gave you a hand in climbing up and John was there to either pull you up or help you jump down, always there to catch you. Every time, you noticed your temperature rise and you felt like it had nothing to do with the workout. The callouses of his hands felt better and more comforting than any soft, warm comforter you´ve ever owned. You really needed to keep it together.

Just when you were close to asking for a break you saw the path opening onto a small platform. With a gulp you saw that it was the edge of a cliff. Several hundred feet it fell down granting you a stunning yet frightening few of a sunset over a dusty, rocky landscape only ever so often interrupted with patches of green. Ghost was standing to your right were the platform thankfully expanded. When Soap landed next to you, he lead you over to were Ghost and Price were unpacking a few items from their bags. “We´ll have to stay here tonight. Giving there´s only two ways onto this platform it´s the safest we can be tonight” Price said as he handed you your blanket. “Safest?” you asked carefully. “I thought…but, they were all dead.” Your voice panicked slightly as the three men exchanged dark looks. “At least one of them must have gotten out” Soap grunted. “Otherwise they wouldn´t have had the time to sabotage out gas tank.”

“If they decided to come after us, we´ll be prepared” Ghost said in a level voice. Your heart was thumping in your chest and an overwhelming feeling of guilt filled your every cell. You hung your head as you carefully sat down, hissing slightly. “Your feet?” John immediately asked, kneeling in front of you. You shook your head not being able to look at him. “Muscle ache” you mumbled. John grunted and moved to hand you a water bottle. “I´m afraid I have to ask you not to drink the whole bottle at once. We´ll have to watch out for another water source.” John again sounded like he was about to punch himself. Maybe because you wouldn’t look at him? Aaaand there went another wave of guilt so you lifted your head and tried to smile. John sighed and his eyes took on a much warmer look. “There´s no need to put on a brave face,___.” Your name on his lips again sent a shiver through your body. “You can sleep. I´ll watch over you.”

Your eyes widened at his phrasing but he didn’t look away from you. Somehow his face seemed so familiar, you could look at him forever and never get enough. “Thank you, Captain” you whispered lamely because your brain wasn’t able to conjure up anything else. To your surprise John began to chuckle for a second and again looked you deeply in the eyes. With the setting sun in his back and the light blitz of his teeth you could almost forget the situation you all were in. He looked maddeningly handsome. The sheen of red in his hair coloured it almost auburn.

Along with his beard and cerulean eyes you were so, so tempted to lean forward but then John spoke again in a low, quiet voice. “John” he said and chuckled again when you looked at him questioningly. “Call me John. No need to use my title.” Your mouth opened slightly. “I can´t possibly-“ He shook his head and gave you a playfully stern look. “I´m afraid I must insist.” With these words he handed you a protein bar and pulled his duffle bag closer. “Use this as a pillow. We can´t make a fire but with the blanket, I think you´ll be alright.” He gave you a small smile that this time actually reached his eyes and you liked that one much, much more before he stood up and walked over to Ghost.

How am I supposed to sleep with his image in my head? You wondered before you tried to make the piece of rock as comfortable as possible. Your concern was futile however. As soon as your body somewhat relaxed it shut down. With your eyes on John´s back you felt them drooping quickly and exhaustion finally caught up with you.

You awoke what it felt like hours later. Not having slept longer than an hour at a time while being imprisoned, the knowledge of three soldier watching over you let your body and mind finally get the rest it needed. Still, when you opened your eyes, your back hurt slightly from the hard ground and your feet still ached from the march. Blinking you realised that the sun wasn´t quite up yet. Only a slight blue fog hung low over the land you were overlooking. Turning your head to the side you saw Ghost´s massive back standing close to the pathway you´d came down just hours before. His weapon in his arms, breathing evenly. You groaned quietly when you sat up and rubbed your neck. Soap was leaning on the stone wall to your right, his head bobbing up and down while he slept. A little further ahead you saw John. He was standing in front of the beginning of what seemed like the pathway down. You gulped. The path was quite broad for what it was but to the left it fell several hundred feet. No railing or security.

You stood and walked over to the Captain. When you were only a few steps away from him he turned his head to the side and watched you as you came to a halt beside him. “Did you sleep at all?” you asked quietly in a whisper. He hummed as he smiled to himself, adjusting his weapon in front of his chest. “ I slept enough.” It was your turn to hum, although yours sounded more disbelieving. John had to bite back a grin. “Are you rested enough? We´ll have to walk quite a way today.” He sounded concerned. You sighed. “I´m sorry” you said. John´s eyes took on an almost pleading look as he shook his head. “I must be such a millstone around your neck. I´m…I´m slow-“

“___” John said your name sternly. You didn’t dare look at him so you stared ahead while tears welled up in your eyes. When John spoke again, his voice had taken on a much gentler tone. “___. We don´t care about your level of fitness or whether you´re fast or not. We came to get you back home safe. That´s our mission. And if it takes us longer or one of us has to carry you the whole way, we don´t care. We care that we found you alive, first an foremost.”

You nodded and wiped away a stray tear. “You´re doing your job” you said and shrugged but somehow that sentence stung like hell. A flash of the same hurt crossed John´s face at the same moment but none of you saw the other. “It´s not just that” he mumbled into his beard without you hearing it.

Then he continued slowly. “We were deployed under the strict command of your father. He might…not show it much but, he´s quite worried about you.” You couldn’t help it. You scoffed pretty loudly and gave John a look that spoke volumes. “I believe he sent you. But you don’t have to say things that just aren’t true to make me feel better. I highly doubt he´s worried about me. He´s more likely to be worried about what this whole situation is doing to his reputation.” John was quiet for a while, then he said in a level voice. “I won´t presume to know what the relationship with your father is like. All I´m saying is that I saw his face during the briefing. It didn’t seem to be the face of a man that didn’t care about his child.”

You felt bad all of a sudden. Your father and you might have grown apart and distant, but did that mean that the love was actually gone? When shit hit the fan would you still be there for your parents? The answer was simple. Yes. And that made you feel even worse. You sniffled again when you thought about how low you´ve thought of your father. His role wasn’t an easy one and he sacrificed a lot for his career. You were still convinced that neglecting his family or becoming a cold and distant person was not the way to go but who were you to judge? You took the easy way out as well.

“Damn” you mumbled and wiped at your eyes. That seemed to only make it worse and the full extent of what had happened to you hit you full force. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” You started crying. In front of the most handsome man you had ever met. Perfect. You didn’t hear him move over your sniffling and your whimpers. All of it seized at once when you felt two huge arms around your shoulders. You were gently being pulled into a massive chest. The gear vest he was wearing was definitely not comfortable but you couldn’t have cared less at this point. You buried your face in it and held onto his waist with both hands, fisting his shirt. “It´s okey” you heard his low vibrato voice above you. “It´s okey. You´re safe. You´re safe” he was saying it as if to reassure himself of the fact that you actually were.

He held you against him for as long as you were still hiccupping and your forehead was pressed to his chest. He didn’t let go even the slightest.

John´s POV

Fuckin´ hell, he thought. If it weren´t for his vest you´d probably hear and feel his heart going ballistic in his chest. He didn’t blame you. How could he? You weren’t military and all that had happened to you must have been the happenings of nightmares. And still you allowed yourself only to break down now. He admired you for that.

He also didn’t blame you for not remembering him. Your meeting had been only the briefest of moments and you hadn’t really looked at him at all that night when you were introduced to him, but John? He couldn’t move his eyes away from you all throughout the festivities. He wasn’t used to nor did he like these functions much either so he very much understood your demeanour, whishing he would be allowed to show the same kind of disinterest in the glitz and glam.

The night had been dull until you were introduced to him. The moment his eyes locked briefly with yours, it felt like his world was turned upside down. He knew your disinterest wasn’t directed at him, he could feel it. John wanted so desperately to talk to you, get to know a bit more about you. He wanted to pick your brain about everything. To him you were electric, thrumming with honesty and simply radiant. So very different from himself.

And then, he´d lost sight of you. He was moving around the ground floor of the house with searching eyes trying to get one more glimpse. Just one more and he´d be happy. But he couldn’t find you again. Not in the living room, not in the tea room, not in the kitchen. His heart heavy with disappointment he bid his goodbye and left. He lay awake that night longer than usual. Your face, your grace and your dress in front of his inner eye for hours, days on end. He hadn’t seen you since then.

When he was called in for a hostage situation he thought he was prepared. The moment his eyes fell upon your father he knew he wasn’t. At first he begged the heavens that it was your brother that had been taken. It was so wrong of him, he knew that, but at least Alexander knew how to react in these situations. And then your name fell and so did his whole heart. Panic and worry flooded his system along with immeasurable anger and determination. He couldn’t let anybody know so he steeled himself and put on his mask. Your father directed some words at him in particular without knowing that John was internally roaring at him for not looking out for you. For just letting you out of his sight.

His tongue was glued to his palate so he only gave a short nod and a grunt before he turned around to collect his best men for the job. He had to collect himself. It wasn’t your fathers fault. No one could have thought that with your brother out there you´d be a high value target. You were a civilian. But then again that was probably why they chose to take you and not your brother. His blood began to boil and he knew if they found you injured or hell forbid, dead, he would wreak havoc among the bastards that dared lay a hand on you.

When they´d found you, alive and quite literally kicking, his chest had expanded with pride, relief and unbelievable affection. He was grateful that he´d had the chance to quench his bloodthirst when they´d started shooting first.

Now, here you were. Safe with them. And even though the danger wasn’t quite over yet, holding you and you letting him, made him feel more human than he´d had in years. He wanted to shield you from everything that scared you, made you uncomfortable or worried. He wanted to be your source of happiness more than anything. You might´ve been crying into his chest but he knew that some of those tears were relief. The feeling of your hands holding onto him almost desperately made his temperature rise and his determination to see you to safety tenfold.

His arms pulled you in a little tighter, hoping you wouldn’t move back. To his delight, you didn’t. On the contrary. You slowly stopped sniffling before you detached your forehead from him and turned your head, pressing the side of your head to his chest, still holding onto him. One of his hands moved on its own accord, just because it felt so natural holding you. He lay it gently on top of your head, moving his fingers over your hair. He heard you sigh and it was the most beautiful melody he´d ever heard.

As soon as you were safe and sound, he´d make sure….sure that what? He saw you again? He´d ask you out? His insides twisted painfully when he thought about it all. How was this ever supposed to work? You were a civilian. He was a Captain in the military. There were people, civilians in his everyday life that didn’t even know his actual name. Another life had never been in the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t imagine another, could he? The moment they´d all jump out of the heli and you´d fall into your family´s arms, would that be the last time he ever saw you? His heart hurt at that. It hurt.

______´s POV

His warmth. His incredible warmth, the gentleness of his hand on the top of your head and his manly, earthy scent made you feel safer than you´d had in at least a decade. A feeling of content overcame you and you wondered why it was that you could feel something like attraction and excitement in a situation like this. Maybe you shouldn’t care, maybe you should just go with it and let yourself be swapped away for once. You had a feeling that with John, you´d actually make a great choice this time. He was a man of his word, one with the ability to calm and excite you at the same time.

You didn’t want to let go. He was cozy, strong and easily made you feel like everything would be okey. Your heart was doing somersaults when you decided to get just a tad closer. Your hands that were fisted in his shirt by his waist wandered around it now. His chest slightly expanded with a sigh when you settled your arms around his middle comfortably. Something touched the top of your head and you felt like crying all of a sudden. With a feeling of monstrous affection you realised that the Captain had rested his cheek on your head. Breathing in sync you tried to calm your racing pulse and the rushing in your ears.

You stood there for another few moments before John lifted his head. You moved yours as well to look at him. Both your arms around each other not moving an inch. John was smiling but his eyes held and expression you couldn’t quite place. He looked almost….sad. When you looked at him questioningly he schooled his expression, shook his head slightly and smiled a bit wider. Ever so gently he moved one hand and softly touched your cheek. You were just about to explode, forgetting everything. A spell. It had to be a spell he´d cast on you.

“The moment you need a break, you tell me” he whispered. “No feeling bad, a´right?” The rumble in his chest vibrated through you. The corner of your mouth twitched as you nodded once gently. “Thank you” John let go of you, again with that sadness in his eyes and you were quite sure that this time you reflected that same expression.

The day was long and quiet. You made your way down the mountain and going downward turned out to be even more a strain on your muscles than upward. Ghost and John were still in front of you, Soap behind. At one point he stuck up a conversation with you. It turns out the Scotsman was incredibly funny and quite capable to distract your mind from the pain in your muscles. Still, your vision more often than not stuck to John´s back while you got distracted.

Of course Soap noticed and bumped his elbow into your shoulder playfully. “Ya kno´, I´ve never seen the Captain so focused when it comes to a hostage situation” he said with a grin. You looked at him confused. “Usually we take everything seriously of course but a hostage is usually easier to get back than let´s say…a missile.” He shrugged, still grinning. “I-I guess?” you said slowly. Soap´s gaze landed on the Captain as well before he spoke again. “On our way here, he was as focused as he would be on missions way more dangerous than this. If I didn’t know any better, I´d say he was…rigid. Nervous” he gave you a sideways look. “He´s never, never nervous.”

It couldn’t be helped, you whole body flooded with hope. It made you lightheaded. Or maybe it was dehydration, you didn’t know yet. Soap sighed dramatically and gave your already speeding heart another kickstart. “He even bobbed his knee. Never seen him do that either. You sure you don’t know each other from somewhere?” Humming you raked your brain. Surely you wouldn’t forget a face like his. That ruggedly handsome face, the stern but laid back attitude. His whole being didn’t really seem to fit into any of the functions you would usually be introduced to people. But then again he was a Captain. And aside from what his rank was and that he was gentle, caring and frankly fucking hot, you didn’t know much about the man. It could be possible.

“I-I really don’t know” you answered truthfully. “It could be possible we´ve been introduced but…” you sighed and felt your face heat up. Soap chuckled next to you with a light “Aha”.

The closer you got to the base of the mountain, the hotter it got. At this point you couldn´t even remember ever having cold feet. Sweat was rolling down your back and temples and the light-headedness slowly became a problem. With the still quite steep cliff next to everyone, it worried you. When you turned what seemed like the last corner, you lifted your head from the path in front of you to look at John and Ghost. They were waiting a few meters ahead but they seemed to sway side to side. You reached out your hand to the right to stabilise yourself as your vision began to swim and nausea rose in your guts. Faintly you heard John call out your name and the next moment Soaps arm was around you. Your legs gave out and you sunk to the ground slowly. Not a second later John was kneeling at your side touching your face worriedly. His blue eyes open wide.

“Damn it, sweetheart. You promised” he said not caring about who heard him. “Ghost! Water.” Ghost handed him a full bottle and without hesitating he opened it and poured half of it down the back of your neck and over your head. It felt incredible and you let out a huge sigh. Next, John took your chin into his calloused fingers and lifted your face towards him. “Open” he grumbled. If you weren’t still slightly delirious it would have turned you on like nobodies business how he said it. You opened your mouth obediently while John held the bottle to your lips. Taking big gulps you felt the nausea fade little by little. Johns gaze was fixed on your lips while addressing the other two men.

“We´ll take a break here. Move into the shade over there. Soap, try to reach Gaz and Nick and see where they are. We´re about to reach the evac point early tomorrow morning.” The moment you were done drinking, John released the breath he was holding quietly and carefully wiped away a stray droplet of water from your chin. The gesture so fond your mouth twitched into a smile.

He moved slightly so you could look at him better and gave you a stern look. Before being able to apologise however he spoke. “Why didn’t you ask for a break? Dehydration isn't something you just walk off.” Again his hand moved to the side of your face and cradled it, his eyes swimming with worry. “I know. I´m sorry. I was about to ask…it overcame me quicker than I thought.”

Without thinking about it you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. You heard him take in a deep breath as he moved his thumb gently over your cheek. “Alright. We´ll take a break here. Come on, let´s get you into the shade.” He leaned over and pulled you upright. Just like the night they rescued you, he practically carried you over to where Ghost and Soap sat before letting you down, sitting next to you. “Sleep a little if you´re tired. We´ve almost got it.” You felt your limbs relax and groaned slightly. Before you knew it, John guided your drooping head onto his shoulder where it rested comfortably as you slept.

The next time you opened your eyes it was already dark. You jolted upright which made your head pound and looked around wildly. “___, calm down. It´s alright.” John was still next to you handing you some more water. “It´s dark already” you groaned. He nodded and gestured for you to drink. “We´re walking the rest of the way tonight. It´s only another four hours. Can you make it?” Dragging in air after you sat the bottle down you looked at him stubbornly. “Yes” you said simply. Looking around you realised you were alone. “Where are Ghost and Soap?”

“We spotted a stream further down. They are down there filling the water bottles. They´ll be waiting for us.” Your face fell again. “We´ve lost so much time” you whispered and leaned back into the stone. John shook his head. His face partially illuminated by the bright moon. “I´d much rather lose time than risk your wellbeing on the last stretch” he said earnestly. You looked at him again. Really looked at him. The lines around his eyes seemed deeper in this light, the edges of his face sharper and the light streaks of grey in his beard standing out more prominently. Neither of you spoke as a kind of understanding dawned in your eyes. His eyebrows rose slightly when he noticed your face getting closer and closer.

John´s POV

It was almost painful to look at the natural beauty the moonlight emphasized on your face. His breath caught in his lungs, his heart a single clump of worry and affection. He wanted to touch your face again, let his fingers feel the soft skin he feared he´d never get to touch again. Unknowingly his head moved forwards as well until your foreheads met and his nose slightly bumped yours. You closed your eyes and John swore for as long as he´d live, he´d remember this feeling. He´d treasure it in his heart until it gave out. He felt your hand on his and took it immediately. Squeezing it tightly he blew all caution to the wind and lifted it to his lips. When he brushed your knuckles he felt you take in a quick breath and saw you open your eyes again. Glittering and solely trained on him he waited with baited breath.

“You know me. Don´t you?” you whispered to him. He grasped your hand tighter again and nodded against your forehead. “Your parents´ spring party two years ago” he whispered. “You wore a pale blue summer dress” he took a deep breath and continued in a playful accusatory tone. “And you ignored me.”

Hearing you giggle made his whole world spin slightly faster. “I ignored everyone at that party” you said gently, your eyes boring into his. “Kind of whish I hadn´t now.” John´s heart nearly gave out at your confession. “I can´t believe I don´t remember you” you whined and again closed your eyes. “Will you stop putting yourself down, darling?” he asked and because he just couldn’t help himself, kissed the back of your hand again.

_____´s POV

The endearment he used made your whole body quiver. What was it about this man? It took every ounce of willpower in you not to move into him and close the gap.

“I´m just saying,” you said and slightly detached from him to look at him more earnestly. “If I´d paid more attention-“ “It doesn´t matter now,___” John said and squeezed your hand. “Besides” he bunched his eyebrows together. “I almost didn’t go to the thing. Those fancy gatherings…they´re not for me.” He smiled at you. The lines around his eyes again so prominent. You reached out and gently let your fingers glide over them. “Yeah” you said with a smile of your own. “I know the feeling.”

A few minutes later, John and you made your way down the rest of the way. To make sure you were okey, he didn’t let go of your hand until the dark shadows of his two team mates appeared. “___” Soap said quietly as you came into view. “You a´right?” You nodded and smiled at him. “I´m good, Soap. Thanks”

Without another word you started you started the last few hours of your journey. You followed Soap while John took his place behind you as you marched on. The moon was just bright enough to let you see where you were going but not much else. Which was ideal since you couldn’t use flashlights. Now that you reached level ground the last few hours went by without a hitch for you.

Eventually you heard John sigh behind you. “That´s it, we just crossed the border. If we were being followed, they wouldn’t be so stupid as to attack here.” Relief flooded your system and your pace picked up.  Another half hour later and you could see a huge dark mass in the distance. Something was moving around it. John put his fingers to his ear. “Gaz, we´re 5 minutes out. Ready the heli.”

A few moments later the massive corpus of a helicopter came into view. It sat disguised by the dark and some rogue boulders far off the road. You noticed two other men waiting by the heli. A strapping young fellow jogged over to you. “Glad to see you all in one piece, Captain” he said as he got closer. “Gaz” John said and gave the man a hefty clap on the shoulder. “Well done.” The man named Gaz looked at you with a proud expression. “You too Ms.___. Your parents will be happy to see you unharmed.” You nodded weakly, the end of this nightmare making your legs shake.

John walked over to a second man that was casually leaning against the helicopter, you following him. “Nick” he said with a grateful tone. “Thanks for helping us out. Again.” The men shook hands in a way that you were sure would have crushed not only your entire hand but your forearm as well. “Anytime, Captain” the deep, dark voice of Nick answered with a thick Russian accent.

Suddenly, the mood shifted. You didn’t quite know what happened but all five men at the same time turned their heads towards the horizon behind the casually strewn boulders. Within seconds, Nick jumped into the open helicopter, Soap and Ghost ran over to the boulders, weapons drawn and aiming them at the horizon and John whirled you around to face him. “I need you to do exactly as I tell you.” His tone of voice changing dramatically with no room for disobedience. Fear paralysed you, so you just nodded. He shook his head. “Words.”

“Yes, I will.”

With a roar the helicopter came to life and John´s face was illuminated. An ice bold bucket emptied its contents into your innards. John had a look of fear in his eyes. His face was stone hard, his jaw set but his eyes wouldn’t leave yours. And then, in the distance you saw what they´d heard way before you did. Vehicles. Making their way quickly over to your location. Your eyes snapped back to John´s but before you could say anything, the hands that were holding your shoulders pulled you in as he crashed his lips onto yours.

Shock, warmth and even more panic rushed through your veins as the rotators of the helicopter began to turn faster and faster. John´s lips were insistent for as long as they were on yours. The moment he let go, he looked at you with a guilt. Over the gradually louder becoming sounds of the heli he almost had to yell at you. Regret and something determined in his eyes.

“Two years. Two years and I finally get to tell you that I love you!”

One more time he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you. You, in all the panic and happiness that you felt kissed him back with all your might.

That was until he let go, looked over your head at Gaz and roared “Get her home, Seargent!” Confusion and hurt were the things you felt most when two strong arms grabbed you from behind and all you saw was John´s retreating back. Readying his weapon and joining Soap and Ghost.

“No! No, what are you doing?! Gaz, let go!! Wait…JOHN!!” Gaz, without even having to struggle hauled you up into the helicopter. You were about to jump out again but the determined soldier held your fighting body back with one arm before the other one hammered against the door to the cockpit three times. “Take-off, Nick!” he yelled into the radio.

“NO! NO TAKE-OFF!” you screamed as loud as you could as tears ran down your face. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? THEY´RE STILL DOWN THERE!! YOU CAN´T LEAVE THEM HERE!!” The moment the helicopter left the ground the first few bullets soared through the air, at least five of them hitting it in rapid motions. Gaz pushed you down quickly, laying on top of you until you were high enough in the air and turning direction.

You couldn’t even hear what you were screaming anymore. All you heard were shots from both sides, scattering tires and then…an ear shattering explosion. Heat and the glowing of fire in the distance illuminating your face. It couldn’t be. It was not supposed to end this way!

“JOOOOOOOOOHN!!!”

___________________________________________________________

Sometime into the flight home, your body gave up on staying conscious. Your vocal cords hurting, your chest burning and no more tears to shed, you slipped under.

You only came to when the helicopter touched ground again and the flashing lights of an ambulance illuminated your face. It all happened very quickly. You were hauled onto a stretcher, lights were shone into your eyes and irritation flooded your body. So many voices…one in particular. “___” you heard the deep rumble of your father. He sounded relieved, almost choked up. “___, darling, can you hear me?” You opened your eyes and the memories came flooding back. Adrenalin surged through your body and with surprising strength you grasped onto your fathers wrist. “It´s okey, darling. It´s okey. You´re home. You´re safe” your father said and took your hand. You shook your head trying to speak.

“Stop” your father bellowed to the paramedics that were pushing your stretcher, leaning over you. “What is it, love?” You had some difficulty finding your voice. “John” you whispered. “Ghost, Soap. They´re still…They´re still…” tears ran down the side of your face and something dawned on your fathers face. Still holding your hand reassuringly he yelled for Gaz who came running over, saluting your father.

“Seargent” your father said in an irritated tone. “What happened?” Gaz took a deep breath. “Ambush, Sir. The Captain gave the order to leave them. We were only able to escape because they stayed.” Your father looked at your devastated, pleading face and then over to the Helicopter. Propped up as you were, you saw Nick standing next to it, lighting a cigarette. Your fathers eyebrows narrowed. “Do I even want to know who that is?” he asked sternly. Again, Gaz saluted. “With all due respect, Sir. No, you do not.” Your father nodded once and again looked at you, his expression softening.

“Seargent Garrick” he addressed Gaz who still stood there with an intact salute. “I sent four of my best men on this mission” His eyes narrowed as he gritted out his next sentence. “I expect four of them back!” Gaz swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”

Seemingly satisfied with this answer your father jerked his head towards the helicopter and Gaz took off running. You saw how Nick stubbed out his cigarette and jumped back inside. A few moments later, they were off again. A little spark of hope settled in your aching chest. Your father leaned over you again, gently stroking your cheek. “Now” he said in a voice you hadn´t heard from him since you were a small child. “Let´s get you taken care of. Your mother is beside herself with worry.”

It was all bitter sweet. When you arrived at the hospital and wheeled into a fancy one patient only room, you mother jumped from the chair she was sitting in with a wail you´d never heard from her and threw herself onto you. Clawing at your dirty clothes and kissing your dirt smudged forehead you suddenly realised how old she looked. No makeup, hair haphazardly thrown into a bun on top of her head, she looked ages older and somehow more human than she had in a long, long time. Not being able to hold back anymore, you clung to her like a child and cried into her chest.

When your father entered the room all he saw was his wife and daughter in the same bed, cuddling and sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help the smile on his face, took a picture with his phone and sent it to his son. “Call me now” his message read underneath.

The next time you woke up, your mother was gone but in the chair beside your bed sat your father. When you stirred, he immediately perked up and took your hand. “Hey, sweety. How´re you feeling?” he said in a low voice. You smiled slightly. “Thirsty” you rasped. He nodded and got up to pour you a glass of water while you pushed the button on your bed to sit up. You took the glass from him and downed it quickly. “They´ve put an IV in you but I guess more water can´t possibly hurt” he said when he took the glass back from you. You nodded, staring at the IV in your hand.

So many things rushed through your head all at once and you didn’t know how to even begin. Apparently neither did your father. The silence stretched but then, your father spoke in a small voice that you´d never heard from him.

“I´m so sorry, sweetheart. This is all my fault.”

Hot tears welled in your eyes again as you shook your head. “It´s not” you said weakly but he shook his head. “The only reason you were taken is me and my position. I should have looked out for you! I´m so sorry.” You took his hand and squeezed it.

“I didn’t exactly let you” you said sniffling. “I basically ran away, remember?” He nodded, looking at your crumbled sheets. “I always thought my position and the hard work I put behind it would somehow make your and your brothers life easier.” He sighed. “You know, with the reputation and the benefits that came with it. I wanted to open all doors for you.” You nodded. “Along the way however, I didn’t even realise that I closed some of these doors again myself. Because they wouldn’t fit into said reputation.” He again shook his head in disbelieve. “How foolish.”

“Please look at me” you said. Your fathers eyes met yours and something raw catapulted itself out of your chest when you saw his eyes. “Please don’t ever think that neither Alexander nor I don’t know what you´ve sacrificed. We just couldn’t understand it when we got older. You became…distant. And Mum…downright obsessed with perfection. It was hard, especially for Alexander to understand what was asked of us. And, I´m so sorry to say but in my opinion, Alec took the blow.” Your father nodded and looked more ashamed than you´d ever seen him. “He took the blow so I could be myself. So I could rebel. He took on the work, I took on the disappointment.”

“Neither of you have ever been a disappointment” came a small voice from the door. Turning your head you saw your mother walking over to you with tears in her eyes. “It all got out of hand so quickly. Your father climbing the ranks, the social responsibility that came with it. The constant questions and comparisons” she wiped at her eyes. “At one point we thought what society expected of our children, we should expect from out children. We were wrong. So wrong.” She shook her head, her mouth in a straight line. “I think none of us ever forgot the love we have for one another but…priorities shifted and we all got frustrated at some point and we all showed that. All except Alec, of course. He always just tried to…keep it all together” a sob escaped her and she shook her head vehemently.

“No more, I say” she said resolutely and looked at your father challengingly, who nodded with wide eyes, staring at her like he´d just seen her for the first time. “No more of this nonsense. I love throwing parties. But not when the people attending are trying to tell me what to expect from my family. You-” she looked at your father, “have worked yourself to the bone and it paid off. You deserve to rest on your laurels.”

Your father smiled at her fondly. “And frankly” she inhaled a deep breath while you stared at her with an open mouth. “I don’t give a damn if Bernadett What´sHerFace-worthy doesn’t approve of it. She can stick it up her-“

“OKEY, Mum. I think we get it” you said loudly. Little red flecks of rage had formed on your mothers face before she took one look at your dumbfounded face and started giggling. It felt like something huge lifted itself off of your chest. The next moment you dissolved into tears while your parents either kissed your temple or hand. “I wish Alec was here” you hiccupped a few moments later.

“He´ll be here within the next hour” your father said with a look at his watch. You looked at him confused. “I-I thought he was deployed.”

“He was” your mother said with a careful tone. “Oh, darling. You were so exhausted. You-You were out for a while.” Your heart beat faster. “How long?” you asked.

“Two whole days.”

Alexander arrived about an hour later like your father had said. Throwing down his bag he hurried over to you and hugged you close for several minutes. His black hair seemed dull and greasy and his eyes were sunken in. He looked like he hadn’t slept in several days. “You look awful” you said in a light tone. Chuckling he leaned back and nodded. “I know, I know.” He heaved a sigh through his nose. “I haven’t slept much. I was bloody worried about you. Just sitting somewhere, not being able to help. I was so glad when Dad said he sent Captain Price. That man-“ he stopped talking when you started whimpering. “___?” he asked carefully.

“There was an ambush at the evac point” you stuttered out through your sobs. “Gaz and Nick brought me back but John” you took a shaking breath. “John and the others stayed to make sure we could escape.” Alex looked at you and tried to console you. “Oh,___, I´m so sorry you had to see that. The Captain surely didn’t make this decision lightly. But trust me, he´s one of the most capable men I´ve ever-“ “There was an explosion” you whispered and looked at your brother with wet eyes. His face fell and there was nothing more he could say. Instead he took you into his arms again and let you cry into his shoulder.

“By the way” Alexander eventually said to try and take your mind off of the Captain and his fate. “What the heck did you say to Dad? He wrote me a message to call him and didn’t use any exclamation marks.” You rubbed at your eyes and looked at his face. “Told him the hard truth. How it was growing up with him and Mum. We´ve had some…conversations.” Alexander nodded and smiled brightly at you. “It was about time they heard it.” He looked grateful. “Thank you for doing the hard part. I can´t remember the last time Dad pulled me in for a hug.” You shook your head. “You´ve don’t the hard part for years. It was nothing.” Alexander gave you a stern look, almost scolding.

“I don’t want to be that person,___, but I´m not sure you realise. You almost died a few days back. The chances of getting you back were slimmer than you might imagine.”

A cold feeling ran down your back and again you were reminded of the heroes that saved your life. And quite possible sacrificed theirs to do so. Two years and I finally get to tell you that I love you.  

“They can´t be gone” you said with a think voice. “He can´t be gone” You shook your head in defiance. Your phrasing let your brother perk up and sincerely he hoped, that he didn’t give Captain Price too much credit.  

You were released quite quickly after you woke up. Other than being exhausted and your feet having seen better days, your body was fine. Your parents brought you home with them for a few days so you wouldn’t be alone. It was a little strange to be in your spotless childhood home that hadn’t exactly invoked the best of feelings in you for the last couple of years.

Now however, your family sat at the ginormous kitchen island together, drinking wine, you mother cooking her favourite Italian dish and no one caring about whether a stray spaghetti fell onto the marble countertop or you father laughed so hard at something Alec said that he spilled wine everywhere before being able to set his glass down.

You looked around the faces of the people you loved. Noticing how your brother started to look like your father more and more and for one, that thought didn’t make you sad or mad. You saw your mother smiling and giggling like she used to and not looking like she constantly smelled something bad. Why hadn’t this been possible before you almost lost your life.

“Promise me something, all of you” you said and looked at all of them. Their attention was on you instantly. “Please let´s not forget that this,” you gestured around your family and yourself. “Could have been us all along. We can´t get back to old patterns.” You looked at your mother who smiled with wet eyes. “I´m not saying I particularly enjoyed being abducted but-“ you had to grin a little. “It showed us all very clearly what was important in the end. Really important. I won´t run anymore.” Pointing at you father you said “You will stop being distant and show us that you love us, damnit.” Your father nodded his head strongly and whispered a ´promise´.

“You” you pointed at your brother. “You will stop trying to be Dad all the time. You´ve already accomplished so much! Slow down.” Alexander gave you a mock salute. “And you” you moved your head towards your mother. “Please for the love of all that is holy, take that stick out of your arse and be your own person. Have your own mind and opinions.” Your mother looked at you proudly before rounding the kitchen island and hugging you close to her chest, kissing your head several times.

That night you lay in bed, body not hurting much anymore, slightly drunk on wine and happiness that your family found each other again. And yet, deep, deep hurt settled in your guts. You had your family back and lost the man you were falling in love with. You knew it the moment he said it. His image and touch never left your mind and you worried and cried each night, wondering if he was alive. If Gaz and Nick had reached him, Ghost and Soap. It had almost been a week since the moment he´d kissed you and you were nowhere near ready to accept that his demise was an option. It scared you more than anything. You decided to ask your father to get some inside information on the matter in the morning.

A knock on your door woke you up. “___” your mothers voice came through the door before it opened and she stuck her head in. “___, darling, please get up. Breakfast is ready.” She was grinning ear to ear and somehow that made you nervous. “What´s going on?” you asked as you got out of bed. “Nothing” you mother sang before she moved away from the door. “Hurry, though” she added before walking down the stairs. You shook your head before getting dressed, checking on your hair and brushing your teeth.

Halfway down the stairs you heard the voices of several men and halted immediately. Your heart was jumping around your ribcage as you tried to make out what they were saying. You heard a Scottish lilt and immediately started thundering down the last steps and ran into the living room. Almost running into the couch you scattered to a halt as soon as you saw the bulking mass of Ghost standing at the bay window and Soap, who had been talking to your brother before you came in. Now, he regarded you with a brilliant smirk and a wink.

Before you could do much else, you sprinted forward and hugged Soap quickly, tears rolling quietly down your cheeks. “Aww, no need for tears, now” he said and patted your back affectionately. “You´re okey” you whispered as you let go of him and regarded both soldiers with a tearful laugh. “You´re both alright” you wiped at your eyes. Soap chuckled. “Yep.”

But that would mean…You turned and scanned the room. Through the open French doors you could see into the kitchen but there was only your mother. Your brother, Soap and Ghost were all in the living room with you. Soap seemed to know who you were looking for and pointed his eyes over to the door that lead into your fathers office.

Said door opened right then and there. Your father walked out with a satisfied look on his face. Behind him, the man that had been hunting your good and bad dreams emerged. Time seemed to stand still.

You were only used to seeing him in his gear, tactical vest and all. This version of him wore washed out jeans, boots, a black V-neck sweater and a navy blue beanie. He´d never looked more attractive. His eyes found yours immediately and his first action was to take his beanie off his head before he took several long strides towards you. His arms held you the moment your knees gave out and you started sobbing into his strong chest. Finally being able to fully feel his body underneath your palms you weren’t that surprised to see that the man was actually built like a tank.

Your arms wound around his waist, palms spread across his back while you shook in his arms. “Shhh” he whispered into your hair. “It´s okey, darling. I´m here.” Your sobs became momentarily more intense before slowly dying down. Now, just sniffling, your face was still resting on one of his pecks, you felt his heartbeat strong and quick against your skin and it calmed you down like nothing else. You lifted your head and looked at him. It felt like seeing him again after years of yearning and missing him. Oh, did you miss him.

His eyes were slightly wet and swimming with happiness as he took your face in his hands. “I was so worried about you, are you broken?” he asked in a quiet voice and looked you up and down. You huffed incredulously. “Me, John? Me? You were the one we left there. Being shot at…Are you alright?” He nodded his head gently and leaned his forehead against yours again. It was a feeling like coming home. “I had to make sure you got out of there. That was my first priority. I´m sorry I put you through all that.”

Your hands moved from fisting his sweater, to gently palming his chest and finally snaking your arms around his neck. He smiled lovingly at you and pulled you closer by your waist. “Listen” he said hesitantly before he rushed out “I know this is your parents house and I really don’t want to piss off your father but damn it, my love, I missed you so much I-“

“Kiss me already, you big oaf” you said with a smile before finally pulling him down towards you.

His lips connected with yours in a much gentler way than the first time. Everything seemed better. His lips softer, the air sweeter, the day brighter. Nothing mattered. Nothing but his breath on your lips, his beard slightly scratching your skin and his earthy scent in your nose. Playfully he nipped on your lower lip before you giggled and opened your mouth.

Groaning he moved a hand into your hair and let his tongue glide over yours once, slowly, sensually before moving back slightly and panting.

“Fucking hell, baby. There´ll be time for that. I´ll make time for that but maybe not here, yeah?” Your head was spinning but you nodded deliriously and with a dopey smile on your face. It felt like walking on clouds being in his arms. He hugged you close again and you melded into him for what felt like hours. One of his big hands cradled your head, the other one gently raking over your back. John´s nose buried in your hair.

From the corner of your eye you could see your family and friends sending you smiles and some thumbs up. Grinning again you detached from John to tell him what´s been burning on your tongue for days.

“I'm falling for you” you whispered.

John´s eyes went wide and his chest expanded quickly. “You are?” he asked as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

You nodded and stroked his cheek. “I am. I was so scared. I saw the explosion and I thought-I thought-” John looked at you apologetically. “You saw it?” he asked and rubbed your back soothingly. “I´m sorry, darling. That was Soap actually. He´s pretty good at making things go ´KA-BOOM´. Saved our arses.” He kissed your forehead. “We got out. We´re alright. I´m here and you´re with me.” Happily you nodded your head and looked at him with all the love and admiration you felt.

“My hero” you said with a grin. John pulled a face before kissing your lips once more.

“No hero, baby. Just me. Just yours.”

____________________________________________________-

Thank you very much for reading such a long oneshot :D You guys are amazing. Please consider interacting with this post. What helps most is feedback. So comments and reblogs are hugely apreciated.

Thank you all very much <3

[indecisivekitty]

The Anxiety of Proposals

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x reader

wc: 607

genre: fluff

warnings: uh none unless ur allergic to fluff ig

“Mate, you alright?” Gaz asked with furrowed brows. He’s noticed Soap staring at the wall for more than five minutes while fidgeting with his dog tags. “You’ve spaced out like what? 3 times now?”

Soap blinked and turned to Gaz after realizing someone was speaking to him. “Aye, just thinking ‘bout somethin’.”

Gaz tilted his head slightly with mild curiosity, then sat down at the table where Soap was sitting. “Care to share?”

The Scot bit his lip anxiously before letting out a breath. “Thinkin’ of proposin’ today once I get back home to me lass.”

Gaz smiled and leaned over to pat Soap on the shoulder. “Ay, good on you, yeah?” Soap let out a small laugh and rubbed his neck with a small nod in response. Arms folded and comfortably leaning back in his seat, Gaz asked, “Nervous?”

“Aye.” Letting out a breath, Soap ran his fingers through his hair. “Can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout it. Am excited though—can’t tell ye how long I’ve been wantin’ to wed ma bonnie lass. Want a bairn and have a pretty little family too.”

Soap pictures you and him, who knows many years in the future, married and with kids. Aye, he thought, the perfect dream. Feeling the other man’s gaze still on him, Soap looks over to see Garrick giving him an earnest smile before nodding at him.

“Let us know how it goes, yeah?”

MacTavish felt his eyes crinkle, along with a smile forming eagerly on his lips. “‘Course I will.”

Walking up to the front door of the flat you shared, Soap cursed as he fumbled with his keys. The nerves were already getting to him as he counted down the seconds he had left until he was back in your presence, something he constantly found himself doing.

“Bonnie?” he called out, dropping his bag on the floor and attempting to quickly take off his shoes, throwing a glance around the room to find your whereabouts. Frowning, he walked into the room you shared, wondering where you were from the lack of a response. “Lass-?”

“In here!”

Following the sound of your voice in the closet, he blinks when he sees you sitting on the floor with piles of clothes.

Beaming at the sight of your boyfriend, you smiled. “Hi, Johnny. How was work?”

Still confused, he utters, “Was fine, bon.”  You hummed contently with his answer before looking at a box of old trinkets you owned. “Now, what exactly are ye doin’ on the floor with all yer clothes everywhere?”

“Well, I thought it would be nice to clean out some of my clothes, and then I saw an old sweater I forgot and decided to try it on, but then I saw an old shoe box of letters-”

“Love-”

“-and decided to read all of them—because hello?? I forgot I had them, so why not go down memory lane? Then I found-”

“Okay, okay, lass.” Kneeling to your level, he studied your face and reached out to caress your cheek. “Got distracted, aye?”

Huffing, you let out a small, "Yes."

Johnny couldn’t help but smile at you, his heart beating wildly at how beautiful you looked—even on the ground with all your clothes thrown about. How could he ever be nervous about proposing to you? He licked his lips. “Marry me, lass?”

“Wai-”

Smiling wider, he brought his hand down to rub your mouth gently. Softly, he whispered, “Marry me?”

His bright blue eyes stared into yours. His gaze was nothing but soft and loving, feeling just like home. Your eyes softened as you memorized how he looked at this moment.

“Of course, Johnny.”

a/n: sorry for lack of writings LOL busy trying to have a productive year while also trying to actually have the motivation to write

[adnauseum11]

Bottom Line Up Front (John Price x Reader)

Kate updates John on what her reconnaissance has uncovered.

1k words

CW: swearing, allusion to past sexual assault

feedback welcome!

Kate checks the incoming number on her ringing cell before swiveling away from her computer screen and answering. Her favourite current retiree is checking in, right on schedule, saving her a call. 

“John, how are things?”

“Alright Kate, any news there?” John asks, paused at a stop light after dropping his love off at work. 

“Yeah, actually. Let’s start with if you’re aware that there’s a photo of you and your lady on the internet, shall we?” 

Kate asks, already knowing the answer. 

“What?” 

It gets John’s full attention. He’s navigating back to his love’s place, and nearly misses his turn at Kate’s revelation.

“Yeah, were you at a pub recently?”

“A few.” John stays cagey, unused to his habits off duty being under a microscope. 

“Well, there is one over on Beecher’s Lane using a photo of you and a woman to advertise online.”  

“Ah Christ, I knew that was trouble. She does trivia nights with her mates there.” He says by way of explanation. 

He leaves out the part about her triumphant face at finally making it on to the leader board swaying his better judgement about the photo. Years of scrupulous image control to maintain his professionalism undone a few months into dating. Bloody hell. 

“Well, they scanned it and posted it up. I can see why though, she’s very pretty. Well done, John. I can see why you kept her to yourself.”

“Alright, easy, you’re happily married Kate.” 

John reminds her, a wave of possessiveness sweeping through him. 

“Yeah, married but not dead.” 

“She’s spoken for.” John growls, navigating a roundabout while Kate irritates him from afar. 

“Obviously. I did some digging on my end on the name you gave. It’s come back with some colourful info. He’s ex-army, dishonorable discharged for sexual assault years ago. He’s done contract work in the past; one was with some of Col. Norris’ men. Ring any bells on that name?” 

John’s processing as he drives, a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Of course, you think there’s more of a connection there?” 

John’s memory of threatening the Colonel is clear as day, although it had been years and a long road since that incident. The mention of sexual assault has him tightening his grip on the steering wheel unconsciously. 

“Norris is involved in the contract you turned down, that Gaz is on right now. Not sure yet, it is unusual that there would be a connection for a random B&E. I’m going to keep poking around. Certainly, it feels off. Your instincts remain sound, Captain.” Kate acknowledges John’s talent for uncovering bullshit.

John hums, internally thankful he’s already on his way to his love’s place to poke around and doubly grateful he turned down the contract weeks ago. He adds stopping by the pub to his list of errands.

“He didn’t put up much of a fight when I got there. You say he’s ex-army?”

“Well, personally, I think your reputation may have preceded you. If connection to you is what brought attention on her, they’d be looking to confirm they have the right woman, not rob her. He likely would have known you on sight, probably chose the best course of action to preserve his neck in the moment when the wrong person turned up.”

John’s blood runs cold as he pulls into his love's driveway. He idles in the car, staring at the door and the busted doorhandle, still unfixed, as dread sits like lead in his stomach. John’s done too much to be naïve to the potential outcomes.

“You think someone wants to leverage her against me? Norris?” John’s putting the information together quickly, following instincts.  

“Maybe. You’ve certainly given him no reason to like you, and he could be harbouring a grudge for the way his men were treated. He’s got an ego and a chip on his shoulder. Like I said, I’m going to keep flipping stones. There’s nothing solid there yet.”

John sighs, scratching his cheek before replying.

“Alright, thanks Kate. I’d hate to be right on this, but better to get ahead of it. Maybe let Gaz know something is up, if it’s connection to me they’re after. Better safe than sorry.”

“Already in motion. In the meantime, it goes without saying that I would encourage you to keep her away from the apartment.”

Kate swivels back to her computer, a notification blinking in the bottom corner.

“She won’t be going back. She’s moving out.” 

“You found a place that quickly? Impressive, John.” 

Kate’s tone is vaguely distracted as she reads the incoming message.

“She’s moved in with me.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line for a moment. John has a feeling he has her full attention once again.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense, but that’s moving faster than I would have expected from a bachelor like yourself, Captain. What’s next, going to marry her before spring rolls around?” 

John presses his lips together in exasperation. Kate is teasing but there’s a vein of incredulity running underneath her comments that John can hear. He can’t totally blame her; this part of his life had been strictly off-limits. For the exact reason unfolding now, to his immense frustration. From the outside looking in, it would look like sudden madness, he’s sure. On some level, he wonders if it is, a man like him trying to retire into a normal life. 

“I don’t need time to get to know her Kate, I’ve known her forever.” John reminds her.  “Christ, you’re making me miss dealing with Simon. He doesn’t ask this many questions.”

“Who do you think found the photo, John?” 

He finally turns the car off, exhaling into the phone. 

“Jesus Christ, Kate.”

“He was concerned that you were slipping, letting that get posted. He’ll be relieved to know you sniffed this out.”

“Him and I both. Keep me posted on what else you find.”

John’s back to giving orders he’s no longer got any business giving and Kate humours him, the stress in his voice evident to her long-trained ear.

“Rog that, John. You keep yourselves safe until we get more details.”

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch