#and a wee bit of a nuisance

[eddieshellscape]

Where's my funny leafy green guys? I'm bored!! WHERE ARE YOU????

@spinachappreciation

@cabbageappreciation

@lettuce-appreciation

@cannabisappreciation420

@seaweedappreciation

WHERE DID YOU GO???

#it hasn't been that long #i'm just bored #and a wee bit of a nuisance

[noritoshiikamo]

wake up [childe x reader]

im writing childe again as an annual sacrifice to lose on his banner for c5 jean or tighnari also miss manipulative yet sweet little husband childe [continuation of this]

tagging @cheolinn @duskamethyst @crashed-wing

cw dubcon, manipulative childe, pregnant reader, wee bit of somnophilia, female receiving oral, not so descriptive penetrative sex, mention of breeding kink, stockholm syndromish, homicidal thoughts (childe)

ajax is ridiculous throughout your pregnancy.

you found yourself dodging him ever so often but would it work with your stubborn husband? never. your cold shoulder meant he just had to work a little hard, aggressive with no subtlety. to him, you must just be a little cranky with his busy schedule. serving tsaritsa is might be a priority but for you, he was willing to make an exception.

he’s suffocating.

hovering over you, berating everything you do as if you haven’t been doing this for the past 57 day to be exact. “stop, i’m just pregnant. leave me alone,” you muttered angrily, eyes didn’t even leave the chopping board holding off to the herbs you were about to chop. ajax knew well than to mess with an angry woman holding a knife.

“my love, you are going in your second trimester, you should be resting. what kind of husband am i if i’m not helping my sweet sweet wife.”

you turned around, annoyance was all your face could convey to his nonsense, “well for once, if you would’ve learn to control yourself, i wouldn’t need to be carrying a baby for 9 months.” his laughter echoed the small cottage as you found yourself trapped between the counter, a hard place and your charming husband. his bare hands, sight you rarely seen brushed gently against your cheeks. your tensed body immediately relaxed as if it was trained to respond as such to his touch. “now, now, that wouldn’t be so husbandly of me if i couldn’t get my wife knocked up, wouldn’t i?” his lips brushed your own so lightly but it was your reaction that made the man marveled in excitement. you were reaching for more.

“oh, did my wife miss me?”

you bit your tongue, “shut up and quit bothering me.”

ajax feigned a small pout, fishing for your sympathy as he rested his forehead against yours. his cold eyes were wide with joy, being nuisance to you was his choice of bantering. he missed this dearly, contemplating more sabbatical leaves to spend more time with you. his thumb brushed against your lower lips as his finger hooked under your chin, forcing your gaze up on him. “i told you,” he clicked his tongue, “i will lessen the bothering after our third child. fifth if you want to completely stop, i will definitely shut my mouth.”

he felt something sharp against his chest. looking down, you slammed the knife flat, palm on the handle against where his heart laid. your hand looked so small compared to the knife,“just cook.”

you waddled away, tossing the apron on the counter. you felt his gaze against your body but it was his words that gave you the shivers.

“i’ll still have it, y/n. after our sweet firstborn is out, i will only give you few months of break, and then i’ll breed the second one right back in ya.”

you knew it well that the threat isn’t empty.

it was adorable that 30 minutes later, he found you completely out in the baby room, resting against the nice sofa by the window with a book on your laps. it seemed that the book is reading you and not the other way around. my poor exhausted wife, he thought fondly. he leaned against the door, arms across the chest as his eyes roamed. how could he resist the idea of pumping you full of his child when you look so adorable and cute?

something twitched in him.

his boots creaked heavy against the floor. winter must be brutal on you after years in the land of freedom. you surely missed the sunny breeze against your skin, his finger brushing lightly against your thigh, hiking your dress higher. a soft oh escaped his lips as his eyes widened in excitement. down on both knees, his lips planted butterfly kisses along the inside watching as you squirmed and sighed. the book long forgotten, laying on the floor as he ventured deeper. you must have been thinking of how none of your complaints were heard by him. ajax just didn’t think that it would be true; you’re not just gonna be walking around with nothing underneath just because the waistband hurts. he felt sorry for doubting you, apologizing in the way he knew best with a kiss in your mound.

“sorry baby, shh just sleep,” he hushed as he yanked you by the legs forward, spreading your legs further. you whined, drowsy in exhaustion.

he was sorry indeed. with arms both underneath your thighs, holding you in place, he burrowed deeper. on his archon’s name, he couldn’t understand how you could taste this delicious on his tongue. ajax could no longer go for the soft gentle licks, he was ravishing you. when he was not running his tongue along your slit, teasing your throbbing holes with his pointed tongue, he kept his lips latched around the puffy clit. with every whines and sighs, he kept his grips on your soft thighs tighter.

his heart swelled and his cock twitched when his name slipped out of your tongue so gently. even in your dream, he was haunting you. except this wasn’t a dream and ajax was really going to town. he would kill for you to wake up, listening to your sweet begging of no and not here.

he has no sense of patience and politeness.

he would keep you gagged with his cock down your throat underneath the table, pounding you in the corner of the dark alley of the busiest holiday night in town and here he is, trying to fuck you in your newborn’s room. he lives for the lusty fearful eyes of yours as he drives deeper in you. releasing your clit with a soft pop, his fingers went busy around the belt. he was leaking through the light pants, managed only to open it halfway before giving it a quick tug. he never asked, you knew better than to protest what was his. he rubbed the hardened cock against your slit, watching frenzied in lust as your face contorted in pleasure.

“oh, y/n,” he called gleefully, planting kisses on your nose, “you better wake up or you’ll miss it.”

his kissed ticked your. your eyes opened lightly, startled by your husband’s face directly on your face. “miss what?” you asked confusedly. your pretty voice laced in exhaustion and sleep.

ajax smiled gleefully and your heart sank. “fuck, ajax!”your eyes shot opened as he pushed his whole length in. not giving you a single warning, not even easing in slowly, the fucked up blissed look in his face as he was fully sheathed in your cunt. you came just by his penetration, much to his content. your legs beside his figure trembled as you fisted his red shirt. “fucking warn me first,” you cried, his hungrily lips reached your own. you tasted yourself, face flushing violently as you realised what had happen. your eyed rolled back at the feeling of his tongue brushing against your own. “hm, what about warning me first if you decide to walk around without a panties? what if someone see it? they’ll take advantage of my sweet pregnant wife,” he mocked, withdrawing his hips back and slamming forward, “my poor helpless wife, can’t have people know that they got the tightest cunt in town, can’t i?” you threw your head back in pleasure, tears pooling in your eyes from pain turned into a pleasure down your cheeks. he occupied your neck, lapping and biting your skin. sucking until marks formed where your heart pounded heavily underneath his tongue. until he was satisfied, until his hands took over around the column to bring your eyes back to his.

“don’t. do. it. again,” he hissed, emphasizing each words with the harsh thrust into your cunt, “not when i’m not around. or i will kill anyone who sets their eyes on you. don’t tell me you got off to the thoughts of me killing someone for you, my wife?”

his hips slowed down and you immediately shook your head, tongue building courage to mutter no. you watched as his face softened immediately, happily kissing you with his hips snapping harsh enough you could feel your second coming. he knew it. with the way you were breathing heavily, acting so obediently with his ridiculous orders and the pussy tightening against his cock, you were about to cum. “a-ajax! i can’t,” you whined, gasping for air he knocked out with every fucks. “s-slow down please.” your feet pressed against his side, struggling to slow his pace.

“sorry baby, i want you to cum on my cock. not even a chance,” he chuckled, lapping on the salty droplet against your cheeks, “come on baby, you’re tightening around my cock, give it in.” your cries echoed the small room, sofa creaked against the wooden floor taking the brunt of his harsh thrusts. your dress was like a thin paper shredded, exposing your bare skin he yearned the most. lapping hungrily on your sensitive, hardened bud. with every gaze of his fangs, you cursed him in your mother tongue. it could only make him more feral. you could feel his pelvic grinding against yours.

ajax is attractive when he’s about to cum.

his daze was feral yet soft, glistening with lust. his soft locks stick to his face and every time it became troublesome, he pushed it back. you couldn’t help the stare to count the speckles of freckles that kissed his face and wondered how many times had his past lover kissed him there. was it you? his face softened when your fingers rested itself against his face. he enjoyed it. his smile grew wider and so did the wrinkles around the corner of his eyes. “someone’s staring,” he teased, almost panting the words out of breath. you didn’t say anything, brushing a line you were certain once was a bleeding scar you nursed to heal.

he ruined your life, dragged you back here and imprisoned you but how can you hate him? deep inside you, you knew you made him mad. you drove him away and now his child grew in your womb and your found it more of a bliss than a punishment. your body tensed, nails dug deep in his shoulder blade. you didn’t make a sound, holding your breath. you came again but it almost feel like an out of body experience.

“y/n, come back to me,” his raspy voice against your ears startled you. you didn’t realise how you end up on his laps, on the floor arms tight around him with his hips were more forgiving this time. ajax breathed a sigh of relief, “there you are. wow, you’re so easy to break there, sweetheart, i thought i lost ya for a sec.” his eyes search your face, flushed and full of bliss. “do you want me to stop?” he asked, brushing your drool away, cleaning your face with concern.

“you didn’t finish,” you mumbled, confusion etched on your face.

“i don’t have too, are you okay?”

you pushed him off, watching as his soft ginger locks splayed on the floor. his brows jolted up in surprise, “y/n,” he warned, holding you up by the waist. a soft curse escaped his lips as he felt the walls tightening against his length. you love it, the way your name escaped his tongue. his moans echoed the room now as your hips moved. his cries and the way his grips tightened against your flesh every time your hips snapped up and down. he was getting sensitive, eager to finish, his hips moving upward to match your pace. his hand, it roamed. holding on to your arm, grabbing a handful of your growing breast but when he finally came, it sat against your growing belly. you gasped, feeling overwhelmed and full as he painted your inside wide, not a single drop wasted.

the room was quieter now. you both sat attached, struggling to catch the breath you knocked out of each other. you watched as his fingers trembled around the buttons. he shed the shirt off before sitting up, carefully wrapping you in his warm shirt. you said nothing, letting him rest your head against his chest. you listened to his rapid heart pounded, his fingers brushing your back with every breath you took you swore his heart skipped a beat. you sat there long before he kissed your forehead and sat you back on the sofa.

“stay here, let me grab you some clean clothes and something to clean you up.”

you yawned, shrugging nonchalantly, “nothing with waistbands, no underwear.”

ajax beamed in excitement, his smirk grew wider as he watched your face flushed warmer, “oh, trust me, you are not wearing anything after that.”

© all content belongs to noritoshiikamo. do not modify or repost.

#will edit kater when im back from watching black panther hihi #writing: fics #writing: genshin #tw dubcon #tw somnophilia #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin tartaglia #genshin tartaglia x reader #tartagalia smut #childe x you #childe x reader #childe x reader smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #genshin x y/n #childe x y/n #husband!childe series

[autumnaaltonen]

Anonymous requested: "headcannons about Alucard and Alexander Anderson being in love with the same S/O?"

I was feeling more in the one-shot mood, so I hope you like this either way.

Alucard and Alexander Anderson Being in Love With The Same S/O

It started at the National Gallery, where you tagged along with Sir Integra, Walter, Seras and (you think?) Alucard. Tbh, he disappeared the moment you all stepped out of the limo, so you imagine the flirtatious vampire has wandered off to find a dark closet to rest in before being called upon when if things go awry.

Seras, too, leaves you three, mentioning something about “finding a good plan B”. Whatever the hell that meant.

So that just left you, Sir Integra, and Walter, to wander about the marble hallways of paintings, waiting for your invited company to arrive.

If only they would show up on time for once…

“What nuisances,” Integra grumbles, before turning to you. “Go see if you can weed the heretics out. I’m positive they are perusing the exhibit, purposefully wasting our time.”

“Of course, Sir,” you obey, bowing slightly before making your way through the maze-like museum. You imagine that whoever the has Iscariot sent to London; well, they must stick out of the average crowd.

Scanning the tourists for holy robes, uniforms, hell, even a gun or sword, you fail to spot anybody who could possibly be your tardy visitors. Eventually you resort to exploring the forbidden staff area, knowing that both Hellsing and the Iscariot have the pontifical balls to break simple rules. Opening many doors with obvious ‘DO NOT ENTER’ and ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY’ signs, but finding most of them locked, you sigh in disappointment, deciding to make your way back to your boss.

But then you spot a familiar head of blonde hair, exactly where she shouldn't be.

“Seras, is that you? What the hell are you doing back here?” you call to her, seeing the young vampire in an unfamiliar uniform. She gives you a cheeky smile and an awkward wave, before disappearing around a corner. Tailing her, you run back down the hall, only to turn the same corner and collide into what you could only assume to be a wall, solid and sturdy as you smack face first and begin fall to the ground. Startled and blurry-eyed, you prepare to break your fall before a very long and strong arm catches you around your shoulders.

“Woah there, friend. Are you alright?” an unfamiliar Irish-tongued man asks, lifting you back onto your feet. You rub your sore forehead, blinking your vision back to coherency before looking up…up...and up, to your human wall.

Christ, he’s tall.

“Haha, yes, indeed you can thank our lord and saviour for that.”

“Oh wow, did I say that out loud? I’m so sorry—” you spy the golden crucifix and clerical collar around his neck, “—Father. I shouldn’t have been running. I saw that my friend had gottn a bit lost and…well she’s gone now.” You huff in annoyance, knowing you’ll give Seras a good talking to later. She’s becoming far too much like her new master as of late.

“All is well, my dear. Actually, I have found me’self a bit lost as well; the museum is just so beautiful that I stumbled off course!” he laughs jovially.

You smile back, knowing you’ve found your man. “Actually, Father, you are just the person I’ve been looking for.” You lift your arm band slightly for the priest to see, telling him your name and position in the Hellsing Organization.

You see his cheerful smile damper a bit at the Hellsing insignia on your uniform, before quickly recovering. “I see. Father Alexander Anderson, at your service, my dear.” He bows his head towards you, “please call me Alexander. After all, you and I come from two very different clergies, I imagine.”

“A pleasure, Alexander. Although, I like to keep my faith ambiguous,” you add. “Sir Integra is waiting for you in the Sainsbury Wing, if you would please follow me.” You raise an arm in the direction out of the staff wing.

“What about your wee friend?”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll find her way spontaneously back. Come, let’s not keep Sir waiting any longer, she can be quite the impatient woman.”

Alexander follows you back into the exhibits, making small talk along the way by commenting on the many displays. While a member of Iscariot, you discern Alexander to be a kind man with an eye for art. He tells you small sermons associated with some of the Italian pieces, amazing you with his theological knowledge, and letting him know so. You never imagined an enemy could be so enjoyable to talk to. But you suppose he’s only your enemy by association.

“I take it you are familiar with Hellsing’s pet vampire, dear?” he suddenly asks out of the blue, making you stop pause in surprise. His tone is pleasant, but his face tells something more. You recognize it as hidden disdain, masked behind innocent curiosity.

“Erm, yes, I am.” That was the understatement of the century. You have become more than a little familiar with Alucard over the years you’ve worked by Integra’s side. If you had to describe him in three words, it would be devious, coquettish, and handsy. He has made it more than clear that he has developed an attraction towards you, yet you have hesitated to return the handsome vampire’s advances in fear of getting played. Surely a creature of his stature could never have feelings for a human such as yourself, right? So, you’ve remained neutral, neither encouraging his inviting caresses and seductive words, nor pushing him away.

“We’re coworkers,” you affirm. “But I would not describe us as anything more, though Alucard can get a tad possessive,” you admit.

Alexander sighs with sympathy, suddenly draping an arm around your shoulders, just like he had when he caught you on your fall. He continues to lead you through the museum, not particularly focussed on finding your desired destination any time soon. “A shame. A pretty young soul such as yourself should never feel controlled by a vile monster.”

You purse your lips at the compliment, never hearing a man of the cloth make such a comment before, let alone towards yourself. His hand lowers from your shoulder to your middle back, pulling you gently ever-so-closer to his side.

“Just let me know if you ever need a delivering hand to aid you in a time of need, and the Lord shall answer your call,” he winks at you with a smile, making you giggle in disbelief.

“Father, are you flirting with me?” you ask with mock scepticism.

“Don’t ya worry, dear. I’m more than happy to look at the menu. It's ordering that’ll require a confession out of me. Or two.”

You giggle at his boldness, before the both of you hear an angry cry echo down the hallways.

“Anderson!”

Alexander frowns, before removing his arm from around you. “Please excuse me, my dear. It seems we have missed introductions.” He cracks his knuckles together, before two silver bayonets are unsheathed, seemingly out of nowhere. You gasp in shock as he stalks his way down the hall with a malicious grin on his face, sermons spilling from his mouth as he makes his way to his target.

You follow quickly behind, practically running to keep up with the tall priest. Down the hall you spot Sir Integra, Walter, and also Alucard with his gun’s raised, pointing them at the two other Iscariot members you missed in your search. You know this was going to lead to only one thing.

Alucard laughs maliciously. “Neither of us could ever back down in front of an enemy. Come on then, Judas priest!”

“What a coincidence. You won’t be so lucky this time, vampire. Do you enjoy playing with God’s most gifted children so?”

Jesus Christ on earth. “Stop!” both you and the silver-haired Iscariot member yell at the same time.

You see Alucard’s eyes widen as he catches you running behind from where Alexander had appeared. A scowl replaces his bloodthirsty smile. “What were you doing over there, Catholic? How dare you even breathe the same air as my beloved!”

“Beloved?” Alexander sneers. “How delusional! You really think this beautiful soul would ever be with a putrid demon such as yourself?”

“I’m ordering you to stop!” the Iscariot man repeats.

You've had enough of their cat fighting. You yourself between your quarrelling admirers and silently pray to God (or beg to Satan) that your new knights aren’t feeling as trigger-happy today.

“Hi! Right this way, everybody!” Seras practically yells into your ear, as a flock of elderly Japanese tourists stumble their way around you. “Everyone with the Japanese tour right this way, please! Kochira e dōzo!”

Seras' can-do attitude and smile is a welcome de-escalation of the tense situation. You only wish she had let you know beforehand, before deciding to run away.

Alucard fluidly moves his way through the murmuring crowd, grabs you by your waist and leads you back behind Sir Integra and Walter, much to Alexander’s detestation.

“What were you doing with him?” Alucard glowers.

“I was doing my job, since you decided to disappear," you huff.

“I was making sure the area was safe, for your and my master’s protection. Don’t you know who that priest is? He’s just as much a monster as I. I won’t allow him to go near you again.”

“And what makes your attitude any different from his? How is that any of your business? ” you glare back, not pleased with being pulled around so much today.

Alucard lowers to your level, getting in your face. “You are my business. You are mine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, monster.” Alexander approaches from behind you both, bayonets thankfully gone from his hands. “I think the dear knows the path they walk, and it is not beside you.”

Alucard turns with a hiss, prepared to start the fight anew when it was your heart on the line. Hell, you know Alucard wouldn’t hesitate to bring about WW3 for you.

You stomp your foot on the ground in frustration. “I don’t need either of you to speak on my behalf. The path I walk is my choice alone, and at this moment, it’s away from both of you pompous idiots!” you yell, before turning on your heel towards the pavilion to prepare it for Integra’s meeting. Both of the men look at your back with marvel, before glaring at one another.

Maybe a war really was about to begin?

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #hellsing alucard #alucard #alexander anderson #alucard x reader #hellsing alucard x reader #alexander anderson x reader

[yanderepuck]

Ikevamp au where everything is the same except the suitor falls in love with you, but you hate them.

Imagine. An otome game, but you constantly turn down the guy.

Napoleons route: what makes you think I want to be your body guard?

You: what makes you think I want to be near a panty sniffer?

Napoleons route later: wait... I think I'm in love with her

You: why won't he leave me alone.

Wait why is this actually hilarious

Mozart's route: no one likes you and no one wants you here.

You: what makes you think I want to spend my time with a man who meowed at people?

Mozart's route later: so I actually really like your company

You: I've never enjoyed being around you for a moment after you called me a nuisance.

How would you expect me to fall in love with either of these two after they both tell me they want nothing to do with me. Please explain

Leonardo's route: I'm going to drag you around the city and have you help me with things

You: please just let me be depressed in the mansion

Leonardo's route later: I've really been enjoying our time together

You: please just let me be depressed in the mansion.

Just let her do her thing. She wants to go back home with no strings attached. Make sure she doesn't try to kill herself but please don't drag her along against her will.

Arthur's route: you're a pretty little thing

You: touch me and I will scream and bite you myself. Never speak to me. Don't even perceive me.

Arthur's route later: so it all started when I was a wee lad

You: didn't I tell you to stop acknowledging me? I'm not interested in your trauma. I didn't even know who wrote Sherlock until I got here

Let be real. Most of us didn't actually know. We knew Sherlock didn't write Sherlock but we didn't know it was some crazy fairy man.

Vincent's route: you're really sweet and I think we should be friends

You: yes. Friends is nice. You seem very nice

Vincent's route later: so..I..um...I want to be more than friends.

You: learn how to have a negative emotion and stop acting like being sad is a bad thing.

The boy is honestly toxic. He's going to invalidate your negative emotions I feel it.

Theo's route: hondje! You saw my scar and so now you're going to work for me!

You: shouldn't I be the one trying to blackmail you??

Theo's route later: you're actually a really good worker and have a good eye for art. I like you hondje

You: so you like capitalism? Am I even getting paid? I didn't travel through a door just to run around the city and sell art work

I'll never understand how it makes sense that Theo thinks he can make her do things bc he assumes she noticed some random ass scar. WHAT'S WRONG WITH EVERYTHING LEARNING YOU GOT SHOT. YOU DIDN'T COME FROM THE FUTURE. THEY CAN TECHNICALLY LOOK UP HOW YOU DIED.

Why did I have a hard time coming up with one for Isaac. Ik that boy is problematic but why am I having issues

Isaac's route: HOW DONT YOU KNOW ABOUT *insert very complicated scientific theory*

You: I went to public school my dude. Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell

Isaac's route later: she's very kind and patient. Is this what love feels like??

You: IF HE COULD SHUT UP ABOUT HIS WORK FOR 5 SECONDS THAT WOULD BE GREAT

I know once I post this I'll think of a better one for Isaac. But oh well. Boy needs to let you talk about your day.

Dazai's route: you're so cute. I'm going to adopt you as my little sister

You: you're a little weird... But I guess this is okay

Dazai's route later: so I really like you, but I need to push you away and act like I don't care because it's what's best

You: I have been here for two weeks and you've tried to kill yourself 4 times. How did you think I could mentally handle that let alone want to date you, PLUS YOU KEEP CALLING ME YOUR LITTLE SISTER

He sibling zones you up until the very end. What kind of Alabama kink do you got going on, Dazai

Jean's route: I'm not sorry that I bit you. Don't talk to me, I don't want friends. No one understands me anyway.

You: if Comte doesn't beat your ass for biting me then I'll do it myself.

Jean's route later: I think I'm learning what love is. She's helped me with so much and I want to repay her

You: he bit me and never apologized or got in trouble. Why the hell would I ever be interested in him. He's treating life like a SURVIVAL GAME

I have many complaints about Jean. But my main one is the biting and him never getting in trouble for it bc he's the favorite child.

Will's route: you found and read my note book and now I have to keep an eye on you so you don't tell anyone that I'm using this information against them to possibly get them killed!

You: sooo...you aren't writing all of this because you have bad social skills and are just trying to better understand everyone because they are all from a vastly different time period than you? Thanks for telling me your plan.

Will's route later: so I've realized the error of my ways and I'm not going to do the deed any more and I hope you can forgive me

You: LET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN VILLA

Will became a little too obsessed. Oops

Comte's route: it is my fault that you are here, so I will protect you and take care of all your needs while you are here. You'll be the daughter I never had

You: thanks! I'll work around the mansion to pass the time and get to know everyone better

Comte's route later: I know I have pushed you away multiple times but I really love you and I want to spend centuries with you

You: I have seen how bad of a parent you are and I've picked up your dirty clothes off the floor I don't think this is going to work

Comte just keeps daughter zoning you and then is like "so I love you" IS THIS WHERE DAZAI GETS IT FROM.

Sebastian's route: every time you do something wrong I'm going to flick your forehead

You: do that one more time and I swear to God I'm slapping that grin off your face

Sebastian's route later: being with you is making me miss home and consider going back to our time. I would love to go back with you and spend our lives together back in Japan

You: there's so many reasons why this wouldn't work out and staying at the top: YOU TOOK SOME RANDOM PILLS SOME PRIEST GAVE YOU. Not to mention you didn't tell ANYONE you were dying

If you're gonna fall in love with me at least tell me you're going to die in a few months.

Also not going to do the trio in this moment. Oops sorry

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp theo #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp Isaac #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp jean #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevamp comte #ikevamp sebastian

[bunnyyamor]

daddy kink

[ OCTOBER 27TH ] TOJI FUSHIGURO x fem! reader (step-dad au)

synopsis; you had wanted to trick or treat with your whole family but your mom was busy on halloween night. so instead you were stuck trick or treating with your step dad. wk; 3k

warnings; mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, dark content, daddy kink, pseudo-incest, age gaps, pet-names, public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies-to-lovers, jealous! toji, over protective! toji, dirty talk, beta read!

notes; so i changed the layout a wee bit, but this is by far my fav fic i think ive written. idk its my style aesthetic and i love her lol. also toji is one of my favs cuz he is so fine so enjoy bbys. pls remember to unhide mature posts in tumblr settings and comment, like and reblog!

-nav : kinktober m.list : kinktober taglist

“so i’m thinking we’ll hit up the neighbors house, then maybe go egg some houses.” your mother raised her brow with a glare. “then we can come back home and eat all our candy while watching spoooooky movies,” you moved your fingers in a scary way. “that’s the plan. so what are you going to wear this year?”

“actually, honey. i’m not going.”

“what?” your mouth widened in shock. you were looking forward to this day for a whole year. “but you had your whole outfit picked out and everything.”

your mother rolled her eyes, annoyed, “i know. look, it’s not like i chose to not go. they have me wanting to come in for another shift.”

you were texting on your phone, pissed. “then tell them no. literally i got this day off for this, so can you.”

“it’s not that simple. i don’t know why you can’t do anything on your own?  i already told you i tried, enough, what do you want from me?”

“you never hang out with me anymore,” you pouted. “it’s always work or that man.”

your mother snapped at your face, “watch yourself. that is your step-father.”

“he is nothing to me,” you crossed your arms. “he is just a dude you’ve been with for a while that stays at our house.”

“i want you to respect him, y/n. he is a good man.”

footsteps boomed down the stairs. there he was. the man that was with your mother for almost 2 years now. toji fushiguro. it looked as if he had just come out of the shower. he was wearing gray sweatpants without a shirt and his hair dripped on his shoulders. “hey baby,” his voice was raspy as he kissed your mom. 

“jesus fucking christ. put on a shirt dude.” you shouldered him as you walked by. 

“y/n!” your mom shouted. 

you saw in your peripheral vision toji’s face darkened in anger. but you didn’t care if he was angry. he could suck it!

“what mom? i’m being a good girl.” you slid over your couch and laid there, upside down, texting on your phone, trying to make late plans. “maybe i’ll ask my friend if i can go to a party. aye, that’ll do it. i can go get wasted.” you chuckled. 

you knew your mother was probably rubbing her temple and your ‘step-father’ was consoling her. he literally made you want to vomit. he made you angry and his presence was a nuisance to you.      

“y/n, you know how we feel about you going to those parties. besides i don’t really like your friends,” toji crossed his arms. he had a way of making your mother think exactly like him. even if she was half on your side and thinking she would immediately turn her morals to his. your mother treated your step-father as if he was all knowing. she listened and did everything he told her. it bothered you so much. 

you jumped up from the couch and made your way to toji’s huge form. he was humongous, broad shoulders, muscles galore, he almost touched your house's ceiling. he was a huge man. that didn’t intimidate you one bit. “you can’t tell me what to do. this is my house, my mom, and my life.”

toji smirked, “that’s true but i also am your step-father.” he took one step closer to you. the air shifting between you two. his arms were crossed over his chest. you never realized how thick he was on his chest area. they literally protruded under his arms. still, even with his size, you didn’t want him to think he won. 

“i know who you really are. you can’t fool me. and you will never be my father,” you uttered the words so that only you and toji could hear. you thought that would break him but instead it grew a gleam in his eyes. something shined within him that made him break the smirk into a toothy grin. he was playing your game. “whatever. i’ll just call megumi and hang out with him. we’ll go trick-or-treating.”

“megumi texted me. he’s going with yuji itadori actually. so, it looks like it’s just you and me sweetheart.” toji winked. 

you threw your hands up in the air frustrated. “yay,” your mom clapped her hands, “daddy and daughter time.”

you went upstairs and got changed in your ballerina costume. maybe you could separate from him and hang out with your friends. this was supposed to be a family gathering but of course, your mother had to ruin it. 

you came downstairs and as you came down you noticed your mom was gone and instead toji sat on the couch. something was different with him. “you done?” he called out. 

you stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for him to turn around. he stood up and turned and you knew that something was different. you felt different with your step-dad. toji smirked as he showed up in a nightwing costume. each muscle outlined, his hair disheveled, and he was wearing the eye mask. he leaned against the couch, you couldn't help it but divert your eyes to his cock. it was outlined as well, and…huge. you gulped. “wow you look-”

“cool?” he slowly walked over to the end of the stairs. “not so boring?” his eyes slowly made their way from your legs up to your face. “ballerina?”

you did your makeup pink themed and you wore a cute gloss over your lips. your lips were pursed out, all innocent looking. you were all pink and girly. super feminine. even painting your nails red. you wore a pink leotard with a sheer pink skirt. the leotard was tight, showing all your curves and ass. you looked like a cake topper, a cute pink macaroon. any man would want to take a bite. 

“sweetheart, you look so beautiful. so perfect, delicate.” he whispered as his hands traveled up your legs. you didn’t have a snappy comeback. instead he made you flustered. his eyes held some kind of villainy within him. his neck curved, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he stared up at you as if you were an angel. he looked guilty and wanting at the same time. his eyes were half-lidded. you noticed the way he sniffed the air, sniffing you. his big, calloused hands looked so gigantic against your legs, covering your entire calf as he rubbed it lightly and squeezed it gently. “you ready?” his voice was hoarse. 

you covered your face, wanting to hide your emotions and feelings. you were only human. “yeah, whatever. let’s just get this over with, old man.” you pushed him aside as you walked in front of him. you realized he was staring at your ass. 

what was wrong with your step-father? he was your mother’s boyfriend! and yet why did you feel dirty? why did you feel that if something happened today you would let him do whatever he wanted to you? why did you want him to do something to you? why was he acting this way all of a sudden? 

everyone was out. the night was young as so many families walked around the neighborhood in their costumes, wanting candy. you knew the town, knew the houses, the streets so you walked around like you knew everyone, it was true you did. toji looked at you with pride. the way you walked around, not afraid, acting like you were the main character. a part of him was irked by your rudeness but also he couldn't help but stare at you. he couldn’t help but be attracted to you. 

“let’s pause here,” you said. you had put a spray around your hair and neck that was sparkles. it twinkled in the moonlight. this caught toji’s attention. you smelled like vanilla and looked like a diamond. all your sparkles catching his eye. you whipped your phone out and leaned your head against toji’s shoulder. “let’s take a selfie and send it to mom. she wants one.” you lied through your teeth. you looked away as you said this lie. 

toji grinned evilly. “mom? or more like you?” his face dipped to your height. he pushed you against a fence, caging your small body with his. you winced, finally breaking, he was winning. your tiny hands pressed against his chest, strong and plump. you were hot. toji was pinning you against the fence. his face was only centimeters away from yours. “c’mon baby. you can tell daddy the truth.”

“i-i-it’s. okay fine. doesn’t matter. mom will like it.” you shouted, hiding your face. you were never bashful or shy! why were you becoming like this? he made you this way!

“okay, let’s send her a selfie.” toji all of a sudden picked you up, arm under your ass as his big hands gripped your plump thighs. “what the fuck?” your body was placed on his shoulder. the sides of your leotard rising higher from the movement. your heart was beating faster than ever before. “toji, what are you doing-”

“toji? angel, i’m your step-father. call me daddy.”

you gulped, “f-fine. what are you doing, daddy?” you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. you also felt wetness down at the name. 

“i’m taking a picture with my sweet baby girl. alright, say cheese!”

you hated him. hated him more than ever in this moment. he was playing with you and your mom. he was messing with your mind. you knew it wasn’t because he actually liked you, it was because he wanted to get back at you for earlier. “n-no! i don’t have to listen to you.” you crossed your arms. the side of your ass was pressed next to toji’s face. toji raised his brow and shook his head, “good girls listen.” his mouth then turned to bite a piece of your ass peeking from the leotard. it was a light bite and then his tongue peaked out and licked the bite. “c’mon, smile.” 

you jumped but was held still by toji. “toji-i mean, daddy!” your step-father just bit your ass. and you liked it. you liked it so much. you wiggled on his shoulder. finally, you smiled and toji took the selfie. he came out so attractive. his jawline was prominent in the photo, he looked like a model. his smirk making his scar above his lip prominent. you were wide eyed looking innocent in the camera. more from what toji just did seconds ago and from where you were seated. toji carried you like you weighed nothing.

he put you back down and you felt dizzy from everything. what were you feeling? “send me that picture,” toji’s hands landed on your shoulder then traveled up to around your neck, caressing your skin there. “i think you look so beautiful in it.”

why were you so quiet? you decided, toji wasn’t going to win. you were going to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

you both went to a door. you knew who lived there. it was a guy that you knew had a crush on you from when you both were in high school. of course, you never liked him but you wanted toji to realize you didn’t care about him and his actions. 

toji knocked the door for you. he was behind you most of the day, keeping an eye out since it was night. you weren’t going to lie, you did like how protective he was over you. you felt safe with him. he always had a shoulder wrapped around you or his hand on you to make sure you were always with him. always standing behind you, close by, so close you can smell his cologne. 

“thank you daddy.” you smiled wide. excited for what was gonna happen. the door opened and low and behold it was the guy that had a crush on you. “y/n? wow, welcome! damn, you look good.” he eyed you up and down. you felt a hand on your shoulder. it was toji’s and it was tightening around you. you looked up behind you and saw his face. if looks could kill! he looked so scary! he wore a scowl and his eyes were dark, full of anger. 

you rolled your eyes and popped your butt out to the side, placing your hands on your hips, posing. “you think so baby? aww thank you, love!”

the guy leaned against the door frame, coming closer to you. toji pulled you back so you fell back against his chest. “i’m her boyfriend.”

“wh-what?” you were about to fight toji. trying to turn around to protest but toji held you in place. “so, back off.” he threatened with a glare. 

the guy backed off, throwing his hands up, surrendering. “damn, sorry man. i didn’t know. well, here’s some candy. enjoy your trick or treat y/n.”

you rolled your eyes and said a quiet “thank you.” you bent down to pick up the candy in the plastic jack o'lantern bucket. you noticed the guy backed away to look at your breasts almost spilling over. you knew toji would not like it. you heard toji grumble in the back of you. but you also noticed that when you bent over your ass by accidently grazed against toji’s dick, you felt it was hard! “c’mon baby. let’s go.” he grabbed your arm, dragging you away. 

you both walked without saying a word. most of the streets were empty, people heading home. toji acted weird, walking in front of you this time, which was something he didn’t do this whole time. 

“daddy?” you called out to him. 

“i can’t believe how you acted. the way he looked at you.” you saw toji rub his temple and bang the fence beside him with his fist. 

“it wasn’t my fault! he was the one all up on me. i was an innocent bystander. what was with the whole, oh i’m her boyfriend?” you imitated him. 

toji turned around, anger evident on his face. “sweetheart, i saw the way he looked at you, daddy knows that look. when a man wants to ravage a sweet girl. the way he looked at you made me so angry, so disgusted.” toji’s jaw clenched. “if i said i was your boyfriend, i knew he would leave you alone.”

you were so done. you shook your head and resumed to walk, wanting to be ahead of him and by yourself. you shoved against him, “whatever. i can’t stand you! i try to like you! try to give you a chance! you think you can play with my feelings and emotions. the way i feel!”

toji grabbed you and picked you up to press you against the fence, like earlier. caging your body. 

“not again with this!” you tried to push him away from you. 

toji clenched the sides of your head and dipped his head to press his feverishly lips against yours. the kiss was passionate, heated. the smacking of lips. you tried to not move your mouth but you couldn't help it. you needed to kiss him. you wrapped your tiny arms, compared to his, around his head to deepen the kiss. 

“daddy, i want you.” you moaned in the kiss. 

“i know baby. i know.” his tongue dragged into your mouth. fighting with your tongue. both breaths hot. moaning and groaning. teeth gnashing. your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. your body was automatically attracted to his, wanting to be pressed against him. 

“we shouldn't do this.” you said. 

“i know.” toji agreed. but then his lips went to your neck. you suck in the air as his plump lips touched the vein on your neck. he could feel your pulse, how rapid it was. you were excited. you wanted this so bad now. 

“you know i hate you so much,” you pushed toji’s head closer so he was licking all your neck. 

“i never hated you. i’ve tried to fight this feeling. but you are so stubborn, such a bad girl.”

you dragged his head back to your lips. you bit his lip. the flesh between your teeth as you dragged it out. eyes directly on his. 

toji picked you up, desperately, his hands under your ass, groping and squeezing your flesh. “you in this outfit. fuck. you really were testing me baby. daddy wanted to fuck you really bad.”

you grinded on his hands. loving how thick they were and veiny. he was very handsome as much as you hated him. “please daddy, fuck me. make me yours.” your eyes were innocent.

toji finally ripped his eye mask off, so his face was plain. you wanted to see his real, raw emotions while he fucked you. he held you with one hand, kissing you sloppily, while the other hand was starting to rip your leotard. “daddy, i’m not wearing underwear! everyone is gonna see me.”

“over my dead body,” he growled. “i’ll rip my costume and wrap it around you.” he ripped the fabric of the leotard that covered your pussy. 

when it was finally gone, you shivered slightly from the cool october air hitting your wet pussy. “i’m cold.” you pouted. 

“don’t worry. daddy, will make you all warm.” toji smirked as his thick fingers slowly touched your cunt. you gasped from the touch then hummed at the feeling. he knew what he was doing. “just like that.”

“baby likes this?”

“i would like it more if it was daddy’s cock.”

toji played with your wetness between his fingers then he lifted the fingers into his mouth. eye contact never leaving as he sucked his fingers dry. “wow, sweetheart. you taste so delicious. does this pussy belong to me?”

you nodded, so hot. his fingers circled your clit, making your legs shake from the nerves. he played with your folds, stretching them slightly. “you ready?”

you looked down at his pent up frustration. it was huge and it wasn’t even uncovered. “yes,” you said low. you were scared. you never fucked someone so big as him. 

“don’t worry baby, daddy will go slow for his angel.” he kissed your forehead as he unzipped. he took his swollen cock out. it was super thick, dripping already with need. he saw you that way as well. he was very much attracted to you. 

toji lifted your legs over his arms. your pussy wide and displayed for him. “look at that pretty pussy. all for daddy. it is so beautiful.”

he was wet and you were soaked. his cock slid it slowly into you. it was perfect. he fit you like a puzzle piece. it went in, inch by inch. “that’s it. take it.” his breath was shaky. you knew he wanted to fuck you hard, wanting to dive into you. but he took it slow. finally he bottomed out. 

“oh my god,” you moaned. moving your hips for him to go fast. 

“already baby! i just put it in. you naughty girl.” toji’s hips went back and forward. both of you getting wetter and squelching. skin sticking. “but if that’s what you want, my baby gets what she wants.” suddenly, toji’s hips started going quicker. he was humping up inside your cunt, your juice dripping down his cock. 

“yesss right there. fuck! yes daddy! right there daddy!” you hugged onto him. your grip tight. his balls slapped against your cunt. his thick cock was dragging in and out. this was not making love, this was pure, straight up, fucking you. he was feral. biting onto your shoulder. 

toji grunted, pounding inside you. nonstop. he was holding you and fucking you. sweat was dripping down his temple. you were pinned against someones fence, being fucked out of your mind. toji kissed you again while he fucked your brains out. loving how you clenched around him. how tight you were. 

“god i feel so full, daddy,” you cried. 

“that’s okay. take it. take it.” toji noticed how you pulsed around his dick. he loved how every time his cock came peeking out of you it was covered, drenched with your cream. you looked so perfect. so angelic. breathing harshly, trying to take all of him. lips puffy, eyelashes thick with tears from the stimulation. your hair was starting to stick to your skin from the sweat. you looked like his favorite vision. he wanted to remember this moment. paint a picture of you this way. his tongue licked inside your mouth, opened mouths making out. his cock and pounding didn’t stop. it went faster, fervently. needing. it was unstoppable. he was unstoppable. if someone was watching let them. you were worth it. he didn’t care in that moment about your mother, he wanted you. wanted to take you to a lair and fuck you everyday every second. you were his drug. 

“daddy, i don’t think i can last longer. i’m gonna cum!”

“go ahead baby. cum for daddy.” he growled as his forehead rested against yours. wanting to see your face. wanting to see how you looked as you took all his seed. 

“ahhhhh!” you shook, grasping onto toji’s shoulders. 

toji didn’t stop. he loved to feel your goopy-ness drip on his cock. it was warm and felt like a  velvet blanket of a waterfall onto him. 

“i’m so fucking lucky,” he whispered to you. “shittt, fuck,” he grunted as he finally came. not able to last because your pussy walls pulsed against his shaft, milking him for everything he was worth. 

“i love you daddy. thank you daddy, fuck,” you kissed him again. it was sloppy, disgusting. saliva everywhere. but you wanted him to know you were his but if he could be yours. 

“i know. i know.” he moaned against your lips. he was still into you and when you both calmed down he slipped out of you. before you could even ask him anything, he ripped his top in half and wrapped it around your hips. he held onto your hand to walk with you but you tripped. you were too weak and held still on the fence.

“i got you.” toji picked you up bridal style. “how bout we cuddle on the couch and watch spooky movies?

your tiny hands touched his face in a feather like touch, “okay. also, i don’t hate you as much.”

toji walked with you cuddled in his arms, he was smirking. “i know.”

#cry baby *🧸* #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fic #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji

[forestshadow-wolf]

Trick or Treat!

Ao3 link || 2555 words

A novel concept if you think about it. what once started as a tradition to give a sacrifice in order to ward off ghosts – soap heard it started in France – now only a sacrifice of candy and sweets to children and the like.

Now soap sat in one of the loveseats in the rec-room, currently bugging the hell out of his lieutenant as he was trying to read. to be fair if the man really was annoyed, he'd tell soap to fuck off or he'd leave, so soap kept being a nuisance.

"You dressing up tonight, L.T.?" he had one leg thrown over the plush arm of the chair.

"What for, Johnny?" Ghost shot back with in an unamused tone, still not looking from his book. "Frankenstein" by Molly Wollstonecr- the rest of the author's name was cut off by ghost's fingers, soap idly noted.

"Fer Halloween." soap rolled his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Aint that for kids? ' thought we were grown men in the military, last I checked." the Manc scrutinized, not even giving soap the time of day. speaking of which, it was still pretty light out and soap promised to help Gaz with his costume later.

"Nae! never too old for some free candy. besides even if there is don't you wanna dress up just for the hell of it, like when ye were a wee one?"

"Never done it before, don't see why I should do it now." ghost grumbled.

"Wha-! yu've never gone trick or treatin'? now yer jus pullin my leg." soap sputtered.

"Johnny, why would I lie?"

Soap frowned. well that's not very Halloween-y. he made up his mind then and there, time to make the skeleton man himself into the pinnacle of Halloween. he pulled out his phone and shot gaz a quick text.

~-~-~-~-~

Bubbles 🫧: gonna b l8

Hatman🧢: K

Hatman🧢: Y ?

Bubbles 🫧:  👻 never been🚪2🚪

Hatman🧢: 👍

Hatman🧢: need help?

Bubbles 🫧: set up 🍬? gonna take him out 2nite

Bubbles 🫧: i'll help u after I get him done

Hatman🧢: 👍

Bubbles 🫧: thx

~-~-~-~-~

"c'mon then, we've got some major work to do."

"what are you talkin' about?"

"I mean we've just been assigned a new mission." soap chuckled as he swung his leg off the arm of the chair and stood up.

"and what might this new mission be? and why wasn't I informed first?" said suspiciously, closing his book.

"'cus it's a special mission for me, I just need your help to complete it." he offered a hand to pull ghost up.

"uh-huh..." ghost took the hand, even as suspicion dripped from his voice, and soap could practically feel the narrowed eyes.

~~~~~~~~~

"sit." soap demanded as they entered his room. ghost took a seat on the bed, and soap set his hands on his hips. "so, what do ya wanna be?"

"... huh?"

"for Halloween."

"I thought you were supposed to be working on a mission, Johnny, not fuckin' 'round with Halloween costumes." ghost asked

"I am. what do you want to dress up as?" soap answered, as he sorted through his closet. "I got a vampire, though it might be a bit small on ya. Zombie but between you and me it's a little cliche. or- OOH! I have just the thing. wait here!"

soap sprinted down out the door and down the hallway, nearly pushing people out of his way in his haste. he flung open the door to the linen closet and grabbed the first set of whites that he saw — which was surprisingly hard to find amongst all the camo green and grey.

ghost was looking at the pile of crafts on his desk when he got back. he reached around ghost for a marker and scissors.

"ok stand up straight." he panted enthusiastically, unable to wipe off the grin plastered to his face. ghost did so, after a moment of staring at soap like he'd gone insane— which granted he might have but that was besides the point, because that had happened long ago.

as soon as the brit complied soap threw the sheet over ghost's massive frame.

"the fuck are you doing, Johnny?" ghost growled,as he fought off the fabric. soap shoved the marker and scissors in his mouth so he could catch ghost's hands in his own. as soon as soap grabbed him, he stopped struggling, and soap spit out the items in his mouth.

"jus hold still, I'm trynna do somethin'."

ghost sighed, but did as he was told. soap fixed the sheet so that is lay more evenly on his head and around his shoulders, it was oriented so that the corners were at the sides and front and back of ghost, and just barely dragged on the floor. he uncapped the marker and marked two little spots where the hard plate of Ghost's mask outlined his eyes. finally he allowed ghost to pull the sheet off. he phone buzzed in his pocket as he was handed the cloth.

~-~-~-~-~

Hatman🧢: recruited 💰

Hatman🧢: progress?

Bubbles 🫧: 👍

Bubbles 🫧: made him a 👻

Hatman🧢: 🤨

Hatman🧢: how original...

Bubbles 🫧: shut it 😡

Bubbles 🫧: it's funny

Hatman🧢: ...yuh huh-...😭

Bubbles 🫧: just do ur job chuckles mcgee

Hatman🧢: 🫡

Bubbles 🫧: 🖕

~-~-~-~-~

he shoved his phone in his pocket again, and got to work on cutting out some eye holes. this was definitely coming out of his paycheck later, or someone's gonna get some awkward linens. ghost went back to browsing his desk. he wanted to get the holes as close to symmetrical as possible without marking it because they really didn't have time to put it in the wash.

"what's this, Johnny?" ghost broke the silence. soap looked up from and saw ghost holding up the red skull from his costume.

"ah it's for my costume. I figured I'd go as you this year, but obviously I couldn't steal your thunder so a took some creative liberties." he said, ignoring the heat flaring in his cheeks — he refused to be embarrassed about it. why should he be, it's just a costume.

ghost hummed and set it back on the desk, before picking up the shirt and pants he'd picked out. soap went back to evening the holes of the sheet, being careful not to make them too big.

"you keep all your costumes?"

"uhh.. only the ones I worked hard on." he said absentmindedly, holding up the sheet to see how it looked. "'k come 'ere."

ghost walked over and soap threw the sheet over his head again, adjusting it so that it was oriented the right way. then he stepped back to see his handiwork. all things considered it looked pretty good.

"you'll have ta go without the mask or it'll make the look bulky, we might reapply the eye black. I'd say it's a sucessful costume." soap rambled, making micro adjustments to the sheet.

"we?"

"er- you. I mean you, don't really need my help with that I suppose." he stumbled over his words, having realized his mistake.

"wouldn't mind the help. if that's cool with you."

"cool. yeah cool. awesome. totally cool."

"Johnny."

"yeah i'd be happy to help."

"why are ghosts always cowards."

that shocked soap out of his idiotic stupor. "huh?"... intelligent, MacTavish...

"'t's 'cus they've got no guts."

"aye 'n' beil yer heild." soap huffed. "terrible."

soap's phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

~-~-~-~-~

Hatman🧢: done. it's getting dark

Hatman🧢: progress?

Hatman🧢: gonna need 2 start on mine soon

Bubbles 🫧: done

Bubbles 🫧: ur room meet in 5

~-~-~-~-~

"gotta run, L.T., gaz needs help suitin' up. so... I guess i'll come by your room when I'm done?"

"sure. see you then."

soap nodded, and then he was off, speedwalking through the halls — mentally cursing whoever put his and Gaz's room all the way across base from each other. like what kind of system is it to split up a task force, that just seems idiotic and impractical.

he did eventually make it. and by eventually he means like... 3 minutes of faster than average walking speed. he's impatient, OKAY! whatever.

when he opened the door to Gaz's room the man was attempting to zip up his dress. it was form-fitting, and on the shorter side— ending around the mid-thigh area, if his father saw any of his sisters wearing it, he might have told them to go change —and just looked expensive. soap won't claim to be a fashion expert, but he'd say that it complemented Gaz's skin complexion rather well.

"are you just gonna laugh at me struggling or are you gonna help me zip the damn thing up, Soap." gaz hissed at him. soap snickered but helped him nonetheless.

"makeup or corset next? we can do the accessories after."

"lets do makeup so I can breath while it's done."

logical. soap respected that.

"fair enough. hey, remind me to tell my sisters thanks for making me help them with their makeup."

"so needy, Tav." gaz joked, and gave him a nod.

soap gave him a playful shove as he reached for the pallet of eyeshadow, and eyeliner.

"so i'm thinkin' a smokey eye, then some wings. we should have gotten you some pink lashes to go, but oh well."

"sounds good."

admittedly soap was a little rusty, since it'd been a while since he's had any practice doing makeup, but it turned out okay. the eyeliner was the hardest part since he didn't want to stab out gaz's eye, but all in all, things could have been much worse.

"did you know you stuck out your tongue when you're concentrating?" gaz mused.

"aye, I get it from my dad." soap laughed. "okay, up. lets do the corset now. what time's it?"

"almost 7." gaz said, checking his phone as he stood up.

soap helped him slip it on, then started lacing it up. he made quick work of it, not unfamiliar with lacing up corsets either. he supposed that growing up in a large family of almost all girls would give someone a wide variety of skills. he was careful not to make it so tight that gaz couldn't breathe, but tight enough to hug his body like the dress.

"'k choker, then nails. think you can do the rest yourself? I promised to help ghost as well, and i still need to get my costume as well."

"yeah, yeah. for sure."

soap helped him clasp the pastel pink choker around gaz's neck, then helped him don the red press-on nails, and he was out the door. he made a stop at his room for his costume, hoping that ghost would let him use his bathroom.

he arrived with a knock, and it opened for him easily, with ghost's greeting call.

"if you wanna take off the mask, and put the sheet on I can- " he was cut off when ghost pulled the balaclava off in front of him without much fanfare, just shaking his blond curls out with a gloved hand. soap quickly shook himself out of his stupor and tossed the sheet over ghost, fixing it so it sat correctly over his head.

"how's it look, Johnny?"

"definitely needs the eye black for contrast." he hummed. "can I pull this up?" he asked, tugging the front of the sheet up just a bit. ghost nodded and flipped it over so the front of his face was exposed.

soap grabbed the eye black from the desk and started applying it in thick steady swipes of his fingers. ghost let him do as he pleased, even closing his eyes to let soap get over his eyelids too. it was over just a little too quickly for soap's preference, but he pulled the sheet down and, stepped back anyways.

"ah, can I steal your bathroom for like, 5 minutes, I havenae had a chance to change yet."

"'course. I'll help you do your eye black when you're done." ghost nodded.

soap threw a thanks over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom. he threw on the jeans and hoodie first, next came the holsters, which he strapped tightly to his thighs to accentuate his ass because that's what ghost does. he's sure of it. last he put the soft balaclava, and opened the bathroom door, with the red skull-plate in hand.

ghost had him sit on his bed, as he shucked off his gloves.

"what instrument do skeletons play?" soap smiled. "the trom-bone." he said at ghost's look

"Christ, Johnny, that was worse than my own." ghost chuckled.

ghost knelt between his legs as he applied the stuff to his eyes, and he likewise closed his eyes to let him work. and again it was over far too quickly. but ghost gave him a few extra seconds by attaching the red skull-plate for him as well.

"thanks." soap breathed, and ghost nodded. "wanna go get gaz, the see what Price decided to wear?"

"sure. hey- what happened to your oh-so mysterious mission?"

"this is my mission. we're going trick-or-treating." soap smiled.

"sly dog." ghost laughed, leading the way out of his door.

they got to gaz's door in no time.

"gaz! we're ready! lets go find the captain" he yelled, pounding on the door.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'" gaz laughed as he walked out. "looks good, Ghost."

"thanks. it was Johnny's work." ghost nodded.

"ach, it's nothin'" he waved them off. "any of ye know what Price is? he wouldnae tell me."

he got a resounding no as an answer... up until they got to price's office and knocked on the door. said man proceeded to open the door with a fishing pole in hand.

"how creative, cap."

"look it was short notice." then man defended.

"aye, except that I had time to make ghost a costume- " soap rebutted.

"it's a Linnen with holes in it." price interjected.

"help gaz into his costume— which looks fantastic if i do say so myself. and get changed into my own costume after helping ghost." soap powered on.

"whatever." price waved him off with a smile, and soap let it go with a laugh. " we all ready?"

soap and gaz nodded, and assumably ghost too from the movement of the sheet. then they were all making their way through base, going from door to door with pillowcases in hand. they all fit right in with the younger members of base that were trick or treating, and everyone else was dressed up as vampires and werewolves and whatever else they fancied. the longer they were out the more fun it seemed ghost was having, and there hadn't even been any alcohol involved... yet. that would come after collecting candy, so that they could get piss drunk and eat enough candy to make them throw up.

they did make quiet a posse though. a ghost, a Ghost, a witch, and a fisherman. quite an odd combination, but if that didn't capture the high school experience of trick or treating then what did? once all was said and done, they even did the after trick or treating ritual of candy trades- one of his favorite parts, if he's honest.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #halloween fic #halloween #trick or treating #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #el rambles

[thefabulous-mostgroovy]

Visitors

Usually, the only visitors she gets are runaway sheep dogs, or the sheep themselves, or—on just one occasion—a great big coo from the farmer down the glen. So, needless to say, the last visitor she is expecting is a pair of corpses in the garden. or Jon and Martin get aggressively adopted by a wee Scottish granny

Jon/Martin, 2.2k words, rated T, read on AO3. this is for the prompt Outsider POV for @jonmartinweek !!!

It's around three in the morning when it happens.

Why Eilidh was up that early, she can scarcely even remember. She never does sleep well in this cottage, she's never been fond of it. Not only is it cold and drafty and creaky, the actual owner is never here! Miss Daisy Tonner seems a fine enough woman, if a little blunt in Eilidh's opinion, but house sitting should be for someone who lives in a house, not for someone who just pays for a cleaner. In truth, she has only met Daisy one time, and that was years ago when the lass was only twenty-one. How she could afford a cottage in the middle of the Highlands, Eilidh would never know, but she could. Either way, it's a pain in her backside to make the trek from the village, especially at her age, just to dust a place that no one lives in.

The emptiness of being un-lived in is probably what makes it hard to sleep in. It's always noticeable when a house has been abandoned, even with the amount of trinkets and books and quilts Eilidh decides to sneak in. She only comes every three or four weeks, just to make sure the heating is functioning and the pipes are still running, and with it being such a nuisance to get to, of course she welcomes herself to stay a little while. Usually, the only visitors she gets are runaway sheep dogs, or the sheep themselves, or—on just one occasion—a big great big coo from the farmer down the glen.

So, needless to say, the last visitor she is expecting is a pair of corpses in the garden.

Eilidh is sitting up in bed, reading a paperback by the dim lamplight, when a flash outside catches her attention. Green light dances across the pages and the duvet, sparking into view of the window. She watches in fascination as what looked like a spark of lightning about a meter above the grass. Arcs of electricity fork into the ground, scorching the earth, and Eilidh adjusts her reading glasses. Surely, she must be seeing things.

With an enormous crack! she's blinded by the emitted light, the whole house shaking with the impact. The pipes rattle and her lovely trinkets threaten to topple over, a porcelain lamb landing on the floor with a shatter. When she looks outside again, there are two lumps on the ground. Against her better judgement, and with a huff, she pulls on a bedrobe and some slippers and she shuffles out to the garden.

Stepping outside, she can hear the distant calls of distressed sheep and cows, dogs howling and barking. It seems that the tremble that made the cottage shake was felt by more than just herself. She ties her robe tighter as she steps out into the cold of the night.

The light above the patio isn't the best, but it does let Eilidh see her visitors, two limp bodies dressed in hiking gear, a bit better as she looks at them now.

The first of the two is a tall, lanky man. His skin, under all the debris and dust, is dark and littered with scars. His hair halos his head, all stringy and wavy and almost as grey as Eilidh's own. Lifeless, dull brown eyes stare up at the sky, laying on his back in a sprawl. Blood, or at least what looks like blood, saturates his clothes, and has trickled and dried in tear tracks from his eyes, down his cheeks and into his beard. Most concerning, the handle of a knife sticks out of his chest.

The second man is shorter, yet still larger. His skin is deathly pale, but splattered with light freckles, visible where the layer of dirt is thinner. His hair is curlier than the first's, and a vibrant ginger, with stark streaks of an unnatural white through the front. His hands are completely covered in blood, staining up his sleeves and his lap. He's laying on his side with a hand outstretched to hold the first man's hand. His chest slowly rises and lowers as he breathes.

He's breathing. He's breathing!

So, one corpse and one unconscious man who maybe murdered the corpse. Brilliant. Eilidh shuffles back inside and grabs the poker from the fireplace. With a cautious eye, she leans in, and pokes the shorter man in the shoulder. She earns a grumble. She pokes again. Grumble grumble.

"Oh, wake up, ya big lump," she grumbles right back. She gives a particularly hard poke and the man wakes up with a full body flinch. He yelps, his voice higher than Eilidh expected, and frantically sits up. His eyes are a startlingly light blue.

"Who are you?" he asks in a painfully English accent. "Where am I?"

"Your in my bloody garden, ya eejit," she snaps. It's not technically her garden, but he doesn't need to know that. "Who are you?"

"Where's Jon?" the man says instead, looking around until his eyes settle on, apparently, Jon. "Jon!"

The man takes Jon's face in his hands, smearing half-dried blood onto his face and in his hair. Eilidh isn't sure what to do. She's not a nurse, or doctor, or even trained in first aid, and it's not like the kit in the lavatory has the equipment to deal with a stab wound to the chest. The man has started crying, shaking Jon by the shoulders as if that will help the gaping chest wound. Eilidh is about to jab him with the poker again, tell him that his man is probably dead and gone, when Jon inhales.

Two bony hands fly up to grasp Martin by the arms, gasping around the wound, gritting his teeth and crying out in pain. His face screws up, contorting awfully as he squeezes his eyes shut. Eilidh shakes her head, because she must be hallucinating, but she could have sworn that she saw something glowing beneath Jon's eyelids.

"Jon?" the man above him shouts again. "Jon! Jon, what's happening? Where are we?"

A terrible static fills the air, rattling between Eilidh's ears. Jon's voice seems to echo through the air as he struggles out as many words as he can.

"Martin," he grits. "Help me...!"

"How can I- how can I help? What do I do?"

"The knife."

Eilidh looks to the knife; it's trembling, shaking back and forth as the wound spurts up a new round of something that is not, in fact, blood. The substance is thin and black, more like ink than anything that could come from a human. Martin wraps his hand around the handle, and before Eilidh can even call him a bloody mongo, he rips it out of Jon's chest.

Jon's eyes snap open, now glowing and vibrant green. He slumps, almost in relief, and he reaches a shaky hand up to hold Martin's face. He smiles, teeth stained with the inky fluid. The static fades away. "Okay... I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Martin asks, sniffling as Jon wipes away tears.

"I'm sure, love. We're okay."

The two men look at each other with what Eilidh can only describe as the most lovesick gaze she's ever seen in her whole seventy five years. She hates to ruin the moment but...

"Eh, no, you're not!" Eilidh says, and the two men jolt and stare at her like she's the trespasser. "Who are youse two, and what are two Englishmen doing in my garden?"

Martin helps Jon sit up, and Eilidh can see—and hear, god forbid—his chest wound closing on its own, skin stitching back together.

"It's... a very long story," Jon says. "And we can't really tell you most of it?

"Well, I'd bloody hope you have some explanation for showing up here at three in the blinkin' morning!"

"We- I don't really know, if I'm being honest. I'm not entirely sure where we are, other than the fact that we're somewhere in Scotland." Listening to the English has always been one of Eilidh's least favourite things, so she does hope that Jon will decide not to give her the long story. Perhaps she can live with this mystery if she never has to hear the accent again.

In the meantime, she can't help but feel a little bad for these boys. They're clearly having a rather awful day, and have nowhere to go. They're filthy and injured, and on the verge of tears, and clinging to each other... Eilidh heaves a sigh.

"Come inside before I change my mind," she huffs, shuffling back into the cottage. "I've got some porridge you can have."

She hears them work up to standing, then some more fumbling to get themselves walking, but they make it inside eventually. Jon is about a head taller than Martin, yet he leans heavily into his side, gangly legs wobbling underneath him. They whisper back and forth to each other as Eilidh makes them porridge, extremely gentle with each other despite how it looks like one murdered the other. Eilidh isn't going to interrogate someone who can recover from a stabbing in about a minute and a half.

They wolf down the porridge like they haven't eaten in years, though they are polite about it. When she shows the spare room and tells them where some spare clothes are, she can't help but feel like they've been told all this before. Eilidh doesn't sleep while they're in the spare room. She can hear faint murmuring all through the night, and she can't help but eavesdrop.

"So... is it over?" Martin quietly asks, the sheets rustling as he moves. "Are we safe?"

"I... I'm not entirely sure, I'm still a bit foggy up here," Jon answers, just as quiet. "I don't think we're in any immediate danger, unless the little old lady upstairs is secretly a murderer."

Eilidh could be, if she gets called a little old lady ever again.

"After everything we've seen, I wouldn't say it's not an option. I mean, remember Angela?"

"Angela, Ang– oh, yeah! God, I kind of wish we met her, she seemed fascinating!"

"I don't! She would have ripped us to pieces!"

"No, she would have very slowly chopped bits off of you until you die."

"Don't remind me."

Eilidh also doesn't want to hear about what that means, but she just can't stop listening. Something about these two, this pair that seemed to have dropped from the sky or teleported, or whatever she just saw was, is utterly, eerily fascinating.

"I'm just glad all the big stuff seems to be over," Jon sighs. There's another rustle of blankets. "We can do whatever we like."

"Once we stop bothering Eilidh and get out of Daisy's cottage," Martin replies with a quiet laugh. How on earth these two know Daisy is completely beyond her. She really must ask what it is exactly that Daisy does for work. "I've had quite enough creepy cabins for one lifetime."

"Fair."

The conversation dies down into regular old chit chat. Boring couple talk and sickeningly sweet flirting, and Eilidh takes it as her sign to leave. Even her and her wife, Mhairi, weren't that bad during their honeymoon phase.

She manages a couple hours of sleep eventually, waking back up at around ten. The two boys are still sound asleep, and she lets them lie in. In the meantime, she makes a quick journey of popping down to the village to get some more eggs and bread and orange juice. She normally wouldn't do this much for two complete strangers, but they seem a bit worn out.

They sheepishly shuffle out of the bedroom at two in the afternoon, and Eilidh doesn't bother asking if they'd like some late lunch, just starts making scrambled eggs. Jon hurriedly tells her she doesn't have to, she's already done so much by letting them, but he shuts up after a steely glare she uses on her kids. Not even Daisy goes against the Granny Glare, and she's built like a brick shit house.

After the eggs and toast and orange juice, which the boys dutifully eat while Eilidh insists on doing the dishes herself, throwing the occasional glance to make sure they're actually eating, Jon speaks up again.

"Is- is there anything we can do to repay you? We don't exactly have any money on us, so it's not like we can pay you back for the—"

"Nonsense!" Eilidh snaps, throwing her tea towel down on the counter. "I don't even live here, it's not my problem what you do in here. Not like Daisy ever visits.

"Are you sure?" Martin asks, wringing his hands. Eilidh sighs.

"Unless you boys want to clean this whole cottage from top to bottom for me, I'd suggest you leave before I change my mind."

They do, thankfully, take their leave, but only after Martin makes her a surprisingly good cup of tea. Eilidh watches them wander down the glen, hand in hand.

"What an odd pair," she mutters to herself, over the rim of her mug. She'll have to tell Mhairi about this when she gets back to the village this evening.

She does hope they make it okay, whatever it is.

#jonmartin #jmart #jonmartinweek 2024 #tma fanfic #jonmartin fanfic

[scapegrace74-blog]

Don’t Let Me Fall, Chapter 9

A/N  Here is the next chapter of my crazy circus story.  Sorry for leaving readers hanging off that cliff for longer than intended.  Hopefully this installment makes up for it.  The end of this fic is now in sight, and I can confirm it will have eleven chapters.  Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments and support!

All previous chapters can be found here.

He’d been injured enough times in his rambunctious youth to recognize the smell of a hospital before he even opened his eyes.  Sticky eyelashes clinging together, his first sight was of a light blue bed curtain and the uniform squares of ceiling tiles. His memory was a bit slower to focus as he tried to recall what country he was in and what he’d done to deserve urgent medical care this time.

“The king of the jungle awakes.”

The voice held an American drawl and came from a middle-aged black man wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck.

“Where am I?” Jamie rasped, his throat dry and tight.  He had no recollection of being in the United States.

The doctor’s vaguely amused expression turned concerned.

“You don’t remember what city you’re in, son?”

Jamie thought hard.  He’d gone home to Scotland to attend his niece’s baptism.  Jenny had harangued him about giving up his ‘jet setting lifestyle’ and settling down with a worthy lass.  He’d missed Claire something fierce but returned to Australia conflicted whether it was a good idea to pursue a relationship with her while they were still performing together.  The internal debate, together with a wicked case of jetlag, had kept him up at all hours. After another near-sleepless night, he’d come to the realization that life was too short to waste time worrying about unforeseeable consequences.  He’d resolved to make his intentions towards his Tourist clear at the first opportunity.  And then he’d fallen from the straps.

“Melbourne?” he replied to the doctor with some uncertainty, his brain still foggy with what he now recognized as pain medication.

“That’s right.  I’m Doctor Abernathy, your orthopedic surgeon.  Besides being a bit groggy, which is understandable, how are you feeling?”

Jamie did a mental inventory of his body.  Even partially numb, his left shoulder felt a bit tender.

“My shoulder aches a wee bit,” he confessed.

“Yes, we had to reset the joint, but once the swelling goes down, it should be good as new.”

Relieved, Jamie closed his eyes.  He didn’t cherish the notion of missing any shows, but that was what they had understudies for.

“How long a’fore I’m able to perform again?”

The silence stretched on long enough for him to re-open his eyes. The doctor’s lips were tightened in a grim line.  Now that his mind was beginning to clear, the fact that he was being monitored by a surgeon didn’t bode particularly well either.

“James, I’m not going to lie to you, the damage that I’m seeing on the x-rays and MRI of your wrist…  I’ll do my best to repair the bone so that you regain full use of your hand, but given the nature of your work…”

Jamie glanced down at his right wrist, only now realizing that it was immobilized with a neoprene splint.  It had been bothering him something fierce for the past few weeks.  Roland had diagnosed it as a mild strain and applied a numbing cream before each show.  Jamie hadn’t mentioned it to Claire because he didn’t want to worry her and because most of the time he spent in her company he was fighting the urge to kiss her until the seas ran dry.  Now he was being told that he’d never soar through the air with her in his arms again due to a hereto unheard-of ailment that had apparently pulverized the bone in his wrist to dust.

“Listen, I know it’s a lot to take in,” Doctor Abernathy continued after going over the medical details of his condition and treatment plan.   “I’m going to schedule your surgery for the day after next.  In the meantime, there’s a young lady in a skimpy outfit haunting my hallways and making a general nuisance of herself.  Can you take pity on the nursing staff and let me show her in?”

Despite the circumstances Jamie smiled.

“Aye.  I’d like that verra much.”

***

I didn’t like hospitals.  All my life, they had been the scenes of painful events: the grainy memory of my parents’ deaths, my Uncle Lamb wasting away from cancer, and more recently a career-ending injury.

As soon as I was able, I had rushed from the big top and grabbed an Uber to the Royal Melbourne Hospital.  The Cirque medic assured me that Jamie’s life was not in danger, but I couldn’t erase the nauseating wallop of his body hitting the stage from my mind. I needed to be submerged in the oceans of his gaze, watch a grin transform his mobile mouth like a rogue sunbeam.  When he held my hand in his own, I would know everything was alright.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I was told Jamie was undergoing x-rays and afterward would be admitted for observation. He’d been sedated while his shoulder was reset, but the admitting nurse assured me I could visit with him once he woke.  That was four hours ago.  Unlike the kindly woman in admissions, the ward staff were disinclined to provide me with any information about a patient to whom I was not related, only repeating that he was ‘resting comfortably’.

The sound of a chair scraping the floor startled me from my stupor. John Grey, dressed in his street clothes and carrying a steaming extra-large coffee, sat down beside me.

“How is he doing?” he asked as he handed me the drink.

I didn’t know how I felt about John anymore, but the fact remained that of all our colleagues, he was the only one to join me in my midnight vigil. Jamie had explained that they’d been friends since circus school, and I trusted Jamie’s judgement above all things, no matter how damning the evidence.

“I haven’t been able to see him yet, but the medical staff assure me he’s not in danger.”

John nodded, leaning back and stretching his legs with a groan.

“Tomorrow’s performance has been canceled,” he informed me. “Probably the following night’s as well. I know it’s the last thing on your mind, but we’ll need to find time to rehearse the routine.”

I stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I’d be expected to keep performing without Jamie as my partner.

“I’m Jamie’s understudy, remember?” John clarified when I didn’t respond.

“I suppose congratulations are in order, then.”  I hadn’t meant to sound churlish, but I found it untenable that anyone should benefit from Jamie’s fall.

“Claire,” John entreated, laying a hand on the chilled skin of my arm.  “Jamie being injured is the last thing I want.  If I could trade places with him, I would in a heartbeat.  There is no ulterior motive here beyond making Tropico a success. You know that’s what Jamie would want as well.”

“I saw you,” I accused, too tired and wrung out to beat around the bush.  “Going into Marylebone’s hotel room in Singapore.”  

I mentally dared John to deny it.  Instead, he shook his head ruefully but met my eyes, his own deep brown and earnest.

“That wasn’t what it looked like.  I was… well, let’s just say I was making amends.  You have to believe me, Claire.”

Before I could grill John on what exactly ‘making amends’ meant, Jamie’s doctor stepped into the corridor.  I was on my feet in an instant, the conversation with John forgotten.

“He’s awake, but still a bit groggy from the sedative we gave him,” he said without preamble.  “I’ll be back in the morning to check on him.  Until then, I don’t suppose either of you answers to the name of Tourist?”

I threw my arms around the man, who inexplicably sounded like he hailed from Texas.

“Woah there,” he laughed.  “Now I’m going to have to explain to my wife how I managed to get covered in glitter while working a double shift.”

“Thank you very much, doctor.”  John’s relief was utterly uncontrived.  Feeling uncharitable after my earlier accusation, I paused in my rush towards Jamie’s room.

“John?  I’m sure Jamie would appreciate seeing an old friend.  After I’ve had a chance to visit with him, that is.”

John sank back down into the uncomfortable chair he’d just vacated.

“Take your time.”

***

Jamie was reeling in the aftermath of Doctor Abernathy’s prognosis when Claire arrived in his hospital room like a sunbeam on a cloudy day. Even in pain, even knowing that his circus career was over, even anticipating their upcoming separation by both geography and circumstance, he couldn’t fail to warm in the bright rays of her smile.

“Hello there,” she murmured, sounding shy and a bit hoarse from fatigue.

“Claire,” he exhaled on a sigh, likewise a bit tongue-tied.

His left side was in a sling to protect his shoulder, so she reached for his right hand before freezing mid-motion, having just noticed the splint immobilizing his wrist.

“I didn’t realize you’d injured both arms when you fell,” she commented, hands hovering as though she wanted to make contact, testify to his wholeness via touch, but couldn’t bear to cause him any further pain.

Jamie grimaced, not eager to relay the significance of his injury when he’d only just begun to re-catalog his partner’s infinite wonders: her skin, luminous even beneath the pallid lights; her curls, a burn in spate cascading over her shoulders now that she’d loosened her bun; her expression, as forthright and eloquent as a masthead.  Once he told her, the ties between them would be severed before they had the chance to build a fresh bond, one that didn’t rely on their status as colleagues.  For the thousandth time, Jamie cursed his previous hesitation.

“Pull up a chair, Tourist.  I’ve some news tae share wi’ ye.”

Jamie related what Doctor Abernathy had just told him, trying to split the difference between optimism and realism.  Tears streaked unheeded down Claire’s cheeks, each one of them a tiny lance aimed straight at his heart.

“Dinna weep, Claire,” he begged as he finished his tale.  “It wasna as though I believed I’d be an aerialist forever, and John will serve ye well as a partner.”

Amber sparks flew from her eyes as she ground out, “You think I’m crying because of a goddamned circus act?  Christ, Jamie, you…” her hands scrabbled in the air, seemingly searching for words. “You held on to that bloody strap while your wrist fell apart.  In what I can only imagine was excruciating pain.  For me.  You did that for me.”

“Aye, I did.  And I’d do it over again in a heartbeat, if it meant saving ye from harm.”  As surely as a compass pointed north, this he knew as truth to the marrow of his bones.

“Because you love me,” Claire said.   It sounded like an accusation, and perhaps it was.  In his life, romantic love was a weakness, a chink in his armour to be exploited to another’s benefit.  Not Claire, though, whose heart was purer than fire, who cared ferociously and without artifice.

“Aye, I do,” he conceded.  “But Tourist, with everything changin’ between us…”

She lay a finger gently across his lips, finally finding a place where she could touch him safely.

“It’s like someone very wise told me recently, Jamie,” she interrupted, face drawing close enough that he could make out the golden sunbursts around the well of her pupils.  The cadence of his pulse accelerated, making his wrist throb in agony that he entirely ignored in favour of watching Claire’s mouth caress each syllable.

“You have to be willing to fall to fly,” followed by Trojan horse words that stole beneath his weary defences and unlocked the gates of his heartache from within.  “I love you too, Jamie.”

Not waiting for his response, she kissed him.  As tender as a prayer and audacious as hope, the moments after their mouths pressed together flipped Jamie’s life on its head.  Up was down.  Pain brought pleasure.  Distancing himself from her love was like trying to hide the daylight from the sun. In her thrall was exactly where he belonged.

Regretfully, the kiss was over before Jamie could organize his wrecked limbs to reach behind Claire and pull her closer.  He worried she would confuse his lack of response for lack of interest, but when her love-drunk eyes fluttered opened his fears vanished.

“Do we have the worst timing, or what?” she chuckled as she settled back in her chair, both hands now caressing his upper arm and chest.

“Quite possibly, aye.  I want nothin’ more than tae take ye in my arms and ne’er let go, and I canna even touch ye,” he lamented.

“We’ve got all the time in the word for that, once you’re well.”

Floating on a wave of endorphins and euphoria, Jamie still had enough sense to realize it wouldn’t be quite so simple.  Claire was a brilliant performer and Cirque des Etoiles would certainly want to keep her busy after Tropico’s tour was done.  Three months, possibly six, and then she’d be on the road again with a new show.  And that was saying nothing of his own upended employment and work visa situation.  

Still, lying in a hospital bed with her warm palms caressing his skin, he was more optimistic than he had any right to be.   As fate had demonstrated time and again since they first met, there was little they couldn’t overcome when they faced it together.

“I should let you get some rest,” she said regretfully after he suppressed his third yawn.

“Will ye come by tomorrow?”  He was desperate to spend as much time as he could in Claire’s company. Both because it soothed him, but also because he knew he’d be travelling back to Montreal soon after his surgery, and Tropico would be moving on to Perth in another week.  It would be weeks before they’d see each other again.

“Of course.  I have to organize some rehearsal time with John, but….  Oh, that reminds me!  John wants to see you.”

“What, now?” he asked, glancing out the window at the pitch-black sky. It must be close to two in the morning.

“Yes, he’s waiting in the hall.  I can tell him you’re sleeping…”

“Nah, s’alright, Tourist.  Send him in.”

Claire made a fuss looking for her jacket and purse, neither of which she’d thought to bring with her during the mad dash to the hospital. Perhaps he was flattering himself, but she seemed loathe to leave, despite her obvious exhaustion.

“Alright, I suppose I’ll be off.  Don’t visit with John for too long.  You need to rest.”

“Nagging already, is it?” he teased, delighting in her blush.

“Well, somebody’s got to watch over you, Fraser,” she huffed in faux exasperation.

The teasing mood left him in an instant, leaving him unaccountably moved.

“I couldna ask fer a better, nor more lovely, minder.  I’m honoured ye’ve chosen me, Claire.”

The goodbye kiss she graced him with then was passionate and warm, tongues darting past panting lips to explore virgin territory.  By the time she pulled away, his body was humming with longing that he could do nothing to assuage.

“Uh, Tourist?  A’fore ye leave, could ye…um… hand me yon wee blanket?”

Equally flushed, Claire raised an expressive brow but made to tuck the woolen throw around his shoulders, assuming he was cold.

“No’ there.  Across my lap, if ye please.  I dinna want John getting any false impressions of how excited I am tae see him, y’ken?”

Claire’s chortling laugh could be heard echoing down the hallway long after John entered the room.

#my writing #outlander #fanfiction

[optiwashere]

anon from before here. if you posting "bothering" the tags then me getting $100 from my grandma for christmas is a downright nuisance. smh

I was just havin' a little joke. Some japery. A wee bit of tomfoolery.

I appreciate the extremely kind words of encouragement though, anon 💜 To be compared to gam gam's $100...

#hey you can ask me things! #who could ask for better? #(to be clear this part is not a joke I do appreciate that and it's flattering lol)

[cinnastray]

Been playing around a wee bit on my phone

Stanley Campbell -- a freckled nuisance

#oc artwork #my art #artists on tumblr #illustration art #oc drawing #expression meme #ocs #stanley campbell #oc art #oc meme #digital art #art meme #tumblr art #original character #the styles are varying so hard omfg i'm so sorry asdhfgktd #stan is a wee bastard

[clarasogatsby]

Hello! Who is your favorite Twilight character and what do you love about them?

Hi! Thanks for being my first ask! So I think for this to make sense, I’ll give a background. I’m about to turn 26 next week, I’ve been a twilight fan since I was around 12. I’ve never been a fan of main characters probably because I never felt like a main character myself. I fell in love with Alice and Jasper when I first read the books, especially Eclipse. I’m a sucker for the “bad guy is saved by love” trope. Because even at the age of 26, I think we, as humans, have to be believe in love, in loving and being loved. The world is a dark place with no love. I admire that while Alice herself didn’t just magic Jasper out of a dark existence, she helped him help himself. Having been in dark places myself (albeit not in a vampire war) it’s so important helping yourself but sometimes we need a little push from others around us to be able to help ourselves. So Jasper was my favourite character, I loved how his whole world perspective shifted when he met Alice. How did this battle worn vampire soldier become tamed by a 4ft? bubbly wee vampire? I’m Scottish and don’t know too much about the American Civil War, but I know that is a major character turn off for Jasper as well as the information we got in MS. Now, while I liked Alice, I didn’t take to her until I read her backstory when the guide was published. Again, what a horrible past she has and I loved that Jasper was the first person she saw and she just knew he was going to help her through (even though he had no idea about her existence). I know there are a few of us on tumblr who are really interested in how the events in the saga have perpetually changed their relationship with the impending doom that Aro will come for Alice one day. I’d be so interested to read more about that. Jasper is fiercely protective of Alice, everything he does is in what he thinks are her best interests (all twilight relationships are slightly toxic).

The older I get, the more I begin to relate to Rosalie. My teenage self just saw her as a bit of a nuisance. Again, learning about her horrific background was interesting and unfortunately too many of us in society can relate to parts of her story. I think about all the things we know about Rosalie and Emmett’s intense physical side of their relationship and think about the journey it must have taken to get to that point. That would be interesting to read too, because the trauma she went through wouldn’t have just vanished overnight.

Sorry, this turned into a partially psychoanalytical answer but it’s so difficult to answer. I’d say Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, Emmett are my favourites.

#twilight ask #I ramble too much #this is why I get so shy speaking on here #my answer doesn’t even make sense #sorry #but also thank you so much for giving me an excuse to talk about twilight

[dellb1969]

1981 Tekakwitha Children’s Home

If memory serves me right, it was here that I spent much of my second round of the sixth grade. Unlike the previous attempt, I was actually more present this time.

I was in class, I was doing the work and I was getting good grades. I have to think that it was because I was in a more structured environment. My house parent was vested in me and he cared, taking his role quite seriously. It was unusual to have that show of strength presented to me so openly and blatantly.

His name was, Charlie.

I had a room to myself and I preferred it that way, I hung posters on the wall and I wanted a plant. I asked for a clipping of a plant from one of the staff members and I grew it in water like I had seen my grandmother do many times.

When the plant was ready to be transplanted I chose a hanging basket and Charlie hung the hook and plant for me. When the other boys made fun of me, he defended me by telling them of the process in which it took the plant to grow and how I did that by my nurturing it to life and to grow roots.

It was a different world having an uncomplicated life of sorts, one where normalcy was a possibility. The problem with a child coming from chaos is that I didn’t have all of the skills to exist in normalcy. I coped better in a chaotic life where I had to troubleshoot my problems with the limited resources and knowledge that I had.

Still, I did my best while I had the chance. One of my good friends there was the same boy who I was forced to witness his rape by the same two teenage boys that raped me an hour before. It was like an unholy bond that we shared and I could see the differences it made in him some eight years later when our bedrooms were in the same unit.

When we would walk past that room, he would run the six feet to put distance between the door and him. I noticed my own behavior as well, I’d walk all of the way to the opposite side of the wall. Once I asked him as we walked past, ‘do you ever think about what happened in there?’

He reassured me that he didn’t.

Our friendship was a different one, changing after I witnessed him coming out of his bedroom closet looking exhausted and carrying a lotion bottle and a pillow. I didn’t know why or more so that I really didn’t want to know.

In a few more years he would be sentenced to prison for committing a rape that was so heinous and grotesque that I still cringe to this day thinking about. Yet, I can tap into his psyche and understand it a bit. There’s something that as even a victim of rape cannot be forgiven.

I was spinning out of control here during this particular stay, my preoccupation with alcohol was at an all time high. I wished that I was older. I began to hang out with the high schoolers, I found that I related to them more.

My time here went into the Christmas holiday and soon the next spring.

I had a girlfriend whom I really liked to be around, she was two years older than me. She had this curly hair and one of the sweetest smiles I had ever seen, she lit up when she smiled. When we were together and alone on the playground we were the only two people that existed. We’d sit on the swing together, holding hands. I was really drawn to her innocence and tomboy attitude. Alas, I was too young for her. She liked high school boys, again I wished to be older.

In a matter of weeks I would be in juvenile detention for being a general nuisance and that time I broke into the sanctuary and stole two cases of wine and wafers, I held a big party behind the gymnasium until the wee hours of the night. Yes, I had to go.

#childhoodsurvivor #childhood abuse #childhoodtrauma #emotionalabuse #emotionaltrauma #physicalabuse #childhood trauma #sexualtrauma #sexualabuse #teen alcoholic #alcoholism

[goth-catte]

I did a little writing for a new OC as an entry for a prompt contest at one of the places I rp. The theme was “Celebrate”. I didn’t quite get the celebration itself, but sometimes the aftermath is just as interesting.

Celebrate writing prompt entry.

489 words.

====

The warmth of the previous night’s festivities, both literally and figuratively, had died down by these wee bells of the early morning. The freely flowing alcohol had lasted until the gods alone knew when, almost naturally transitioning into the merrymaking that followed; the hearth in the corner of the lavish room now hosted naught but smoldering embers, leaving the slumbering bodies huddled together beneath blankets for warmth and comfort. Markus groaned softly as he stirred from his slumber, lavender eyes groggily fluttering open as the dull, throbbing headache that always came with so much drinking demanded his attention.

The wandering Viera had to carefully extricate himself from the arms of the invitingly warm woman behind him so he could rise, all without rousing the couple sleeping just a fulm in front of him. It was only when he rose to unsteady feet that he realized he wasn’t even in a bed, just atop a pile of pillows thoughtfully thrown on the floor for whatever blearily-remembered acts of carnality in which he and his partner had engaged. Bits and pieces flashed in his mind’s eye hither and thither: the softness of her breast in his palm, the sweet taste of wine on her lips, the cascade of crimson hair as she leaned over him - creating a veil of imagined privacy in a room full of others doing just the same as they were. A small smile tugged up one corner of his horribly chapped lips.

Using the murky, wan light of pre-dawn to pick his way over the sleeping bodies was a feat of dexterity, forcing him to all but dance over splayed limbs and snoring torsos on his way to the only salvation he could imagine - another cup of wine! Markus hadn’t known a soul in this room before dusk last night, but the wanderlust-stricken bard did always have a knack for making new friends of strangers - and bedfellows of new friends, no less. He’d stumbled upon some raucous party of friends in one (of several!) taverns he’d visited that night, and he’d been drawn to the cheer like a moth to flame. His stories and songs had led to many and more drinks, which in turn led to being thrown out for being a nuisance. That brought them here, to this house, and the rest was history - hazy though it was.

The splash of wine in some mostly clean glass was music to his ears, and the taste of the sweet red passing his dried lips was certainly worthy of memorialization in song. He’d get right on that, he promised himself, after just a little more sleep. Doing the dance through the maze of bare backs and snoring lips was a little more challenging than a moment ago, but before long he was settled once more in the warm embrace of… well, whatever her name was. In no time Markus had joined the revelers in blissfully unaware slumber.

#ffxiv gpose #ffxiv oc #ffxiv rp #ffxiv viera

[pawsimses]

Flip

Listening to Duran Duran's "View to a Kill" has given me such Reluctant Ouroboros Agent Yuri vibes

And so I have yet another AU cooking up in my head now lmao

Just

So far points are:

* Post S2, Yuri was somehow saved and taken in by Ourobos

* Upon awakening he is informed of his predicament and new obligations towards his new, ahem, "employers"

* Of course, Yuri's first reaction us to burn them

* Only he can't; during his pseudo recovery process, a gadget was implanted to both a) prevent/limit the use of his NEXT power and b) maintain control over him in case of the obvious rebellion occurring against his captors

* Not only that, but there's another threat looming over his head that non compliance may end badly (insert possible Gregory Sunshine type drug here need to workshop this point is Yuri Needs To Listen Or He May End Up Loosing Control like the X Incident NEXT did (rot in hell Gregory))

* With these on hand, Yuri reluctantly enters a sort of contract deal and becomes Ouroboros's new assassin

* Liking the name "Phoenix" here which I entirely blame on both Yuri's "rebirth" and the song lyrics lol

* For while he manages, coping badly through bad mechanisms and trying to internalize everything like he did as Lunatic (spoilers it does not go smoothly as anticipated, lot of moral compass digging here)

* Then the kicker - one day it happens; he finishes up on a job and gets his new target - a man named Kotetsu T. Kaburagi. A man Yuri knows very well

* Reason? Since retirement Kotetsu has decided to take up the mantle on Bunny's behalf on searching for Ouroboros a la amateur detective style. And of course, being Kotetsu, he found out a wee bit too much. Now Ouroboros considers him a "nuisance" to be dealt with.

* Cue a lot of internal struggle for Yuri because he absolutely does NOT want to hurt Kotetsu. At all. But he knows if he doesn't comply, Ouroboros will sic him on the public in an uncontrollable fire blazing frenzy. It's a lose-lose situation.

* All the while Kotetsu keeps digging himself deeper into the hole and uncovers things he probably shouldn't.

* (mix pairing of Bunny/Tiger and possibly but maybe not entirely one-sided Yuri/Kotetsu)

* Also... Detective Kotetsu. In suspenders. Yes.

And that's all I got so far lil very much not a vanilla AU

Also I may...have a place here for an Ouroboros Bunny character as Yuri's horrible partner

#tiger & bunny #tiger and bunny #yuri petrov #kotetsu t. kaburagi #kotetsu x barnaby #yuri x kotetsu #whatever the yuritetsu tag is #yes this is dark and angsty but dang it i want detective kotetsu now #also agent phoenix aka Yuri

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

Mai, Suki and Ty Lee were placing travel equipment on Appa.

Mai: “Alright, is everything ready?”

Ty Lee: “Ready and accounted for ma’am.”

Mai: “Ok, let’s not do that.”

Azula: “Hey everybody!”

Suki and Ty Lee were startled but then both made an intense glare at her, Mai smirk just a bit and went back to being stoic.

Azula: “Hey, hey, the chi is strong with this one right? (points at the tea cup Suki is holding) Now if I can just find the secret ingredient, it’ll change you’re life.”

Awkward silence ensued as Ty Lee and Suki were still glaring at Azula. Azula gulped nervously.

Azula: “Any who...Zukka right?”

Suki: “Suki.”

Azula: “Right, right, sorry, sorry, I get those...mixed up. Great with faces, not so much with names...um...who’s Zukka?”

The others just shrugged

Mai: “Sounds like you made that name up.”

Azula: “Anyways, I hate to be a bothersome nuisance, you seem like you’re off on a very important mission. But if you don’t mind me asking, you wouldn’t be happening to stop by the earth kingdom would ya?”

Ty Lee: “(Coldly) What’s it to ya?”

Azula: “Oh, no reason, no reason at all, I don’t even remember, yes I do (stutters) look, Zuko and I are even now, in terms of life debts but to Aang I feel I owe a debt of gratitude I couldn’t possibly repay. And, um, with Ba sing se, I once took it over, then I suggested it be fried to a crisp and then my father set it in chaos. What better way to earn my place here by restoring order and giving it back to the people?”

Mai: “We are headed to the earth kingdom, we could use you’re help.”

Suki and Ty Lee turned to Mai concerned.

Suki: “You sure?”

Mai: “Why not? She’s cleaned up her act just like we have.”

Azula: “Excellent! (Azula squeezed on Ty Lee’s hand with both of her own hands and started shaking it roughly, she did the same with Suki) I’m glad to be of assistance!”

Ty Lee: “Ow!”

Azula jumped excitedly on Appa’s saddle.

Azula: “Girl’s night! Wee! (Makes an angry and unhinged death glare) What are you waiting on lazy bums!? Let’s get crackin! The world isn’t gonna save itself!(Goes back to her smiley bubbly face) This is gonna be great!”

Suki put her head on her palm and groaned along with Ty Lee.

Suki: “This is gonna be a long trip.”

#post redemption azula #mai #suki #ty lee

[scotianostra]

On October 15th 1943 the poet, William Soutar, author of The Diaries of a Dying Man, died.

He described himself as ‘a terrible nuisance’ at primary school, but at Perth Academy he excelled at both lessons and sports, fell in love, and began to write poetry. He looked back at his last year of school as one of the happiest times of his life.

When Soutar left school in 1916, World War I was already under way, and he joined the Royal Navy, serving in the Atlantic and the North Sea. During this time he became ill with a form of food poisoning and developed symptoms of pain and stiffness which did not respond to treatment. He was discharged from the Navy in early 1919. He began a medical degree at the University of Edinburgh, but soon transferred to study English, graduating in 1923.

By now his health was a continual problem. In 1924 his illness was diagnosed as ankylosing spondylitis, an infection of the spine which had gone too far to be cured. Treatment continued for some years, but after an unsuccessful operation in 1930 he was confined to bed and remained there for the rest of his life. In 1924 his parents had moved into a newly-built house, 'Inglelowe’ ('hearth-glow’), in Wilson Street, Perth. Soutar’s father, a master joiner, adapted a downstairs room to make a bedroom with a big window overlooking the back garden. Here Soutar spent the next thirteen years, writing poetry and an extensive journal, and entertaining friends, often several hundred in the course of a year. Many of his visitors were writers and his room has been described as a centre for the Scottish literary renaissance. Diagnosed with tuberculosis in July 1943, he began a new volume of his journal, which he entitled The Diary of a Dying Man. He died on 15th October 1943.

The house 'Inglelowe’ was bequeathed by Soutar’s father to Perth Town Council, with the condition that Soutar’s room should be preserved and shown to 'any interested person … at all reasonable times’. Now known as the Soutar Hoose, it has for some years been the base for a writer-in-residence, and is used for readings and community events.Soutar has quite a few poems scatter aroond the net, I chose this one because I love the word Coorie, which has had a bit of a renascence recently

Coorie in the corner, sittin a’ alane, Whan the nicht wind’s chappin On the winnock-pane: Coorie in the corner, dinna greet ava; It’s juist a wee bit goloch Rinnin up the wa.

William Soutar is buried in the Jeanfield and Wellshill Cemetery in Perth.