#choo choo fuckers

[sacredglitch]

Oh boy what a face there, Prime

But wow, what a taster into character l o r e and what Ratchet could have potentially seen during the war

I'm excited for everyone elses but my heart still hurts the most with Ratch's and Prowl's. Nothing will pull the heartstrings more than theirs.

#tfa rewatch #transformers animated #tfa ratchet #tfa optimus prime #its a start #start of the feels train #choo choo fuckers

[pinkaddiofficial]

Okay, so. After about a week of feeling ill (Strange, considering I no longer have code to get infected... I think.) I've decided that the solution here is to clearly ignore my problems. Please do not bring up Gaster or Ralsei around me for... ah, some time?

#I am a master of ignoring my problems. #That is how Spamton and I stayed together as long as we did. #ic #okay im gonna do my best to get the trian running again #choo choo fuckers

[shatterthefragments]

Actually some whining: beginning with a layer title of TEST TEST TESTING makes more sense than “construction lines” thank you very much (though I gave in and renamed it to be how it’s supposed to be in the submission)

…railway,, ruts,, chamfas,, am i… ruts nvm actually I don’t have time to go there.

#Choo choo motherfuckers #this fucker is going to be FINISHED and SUBMITTED and even though it’s amazing how I’ll have finished I’ll feel only defeat #and I’ll lie and say I’m relieved and excited to be finished when asked

[hetalia-club]

Do you understand what I'm saying?

Please read this and tell me I'm not alone here... You all have to be thinking this too.

America the type of guy to crack his knuckles and say "Guess someone wants a knuckle sandwich" before getting in a fight.

America the type of guy to have stars around his head when he get's knocked out.

America the type of guy that says "Umm, guys we have company" In a horror movie

America they type of guy to rub his tummy when he had enough to eat

America the type of guy to get a light bulb above his head when he's got an Idea

America the type of guy that would say "Uh-Oh spaghettiO's" after getting shot point blank.

America the type of guy to say "Okay now you've gone too far" to the villain.

America the type of guy to run away from home carrying one of these

America the type of guy to slip on a banana peel and it makes this sound

America the type of guy to get on his tippy-toes when he's sneaking and it makes this sound

America the type of guy to rub his head and say "That smarts" When getting bonked on the head

America the type of guy to say "Sticks and Stones may break my bones..." When you insult him

America the type of guy when he sees a pretty girl walking down the street he does this.

America the type of mother fucker to fluff his pillow before going to sleep

America the type of guy to pull up his pants and push up his sleeves and say "Okay no more Mr. Nice Guy"

America the type of guy to say "Holy Cannoli" When he's surprised.

America the type of guy to sneeze and say "Ahh-Ahh-Ahh Choo!"

America the type of guy to say "Weee!" When going down a slide.

America the type of guy to ask the waiter "What's your favorite thing on the menu" and then not order it.

America the type of guy to run off a cliff and keep running in the air for a bit until he looks down and says "Uh-Oh..."

#hetalia #hws america #aph america #alfred f. jones #original #please tell me you understand me

[yuri-is-online]

Bitch the Pot (Trey Clover x Reader)

Trey's birthday is coming up and you really want to buy him a present.

But what if he doesn't want it? What if he just thinks of your efforts as annoying, or even worse what if he sees right through you and makes things awkward. What if he stashes things away and makes fun of them later, years later when he barely remembers your name.

What if he's secretly looking forward to your presence and hasn't even considered he'd be lucky enough to get a gift. What if... what if...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, we're going to hurt comfort town choo choo mother fuckers, I am using the Hitchhiking Ghost names for the Ramshackle Ghosts because I am unoriginal, the more I think about Trey the more I realize Idia is right, Trey's a skethcy mfer and yeah that's hot. If you like this check out my masterlist for more fic.

You didn't want to indulge Trey's teeth thing.

Sure it will make him happy, smooth over all your little insecurities pricking at your heart as you poke through the second hand store for what you had thought would be a really cute idea on your way here but now weren't so sure about. Besides you are pretty sure that everyone else is going to buy him a bundle of floss and call it a day, well other than Rook who has been waxing poetic about how he had "the most fitting cap for the Rose Chevalier" so all the more reason to put a little less of a personal interest into your gifting and more of a thoughtful touch.

As thoughtful as you could afford anyway. You aren't even sure Trey likes these sorts of things, though that worry is sort of drowned by how surprised you are to find nice looking china in Crane Port's equivalent of a Good Will. There is a nice selection of tea cups, mismatched saucer plates, and the odd pot sat all by its lonesome all with neatly written prices on stickers you don't look forward to scrubbing off.

Afternoon Tea Special~ Pick one Pot, 4 cups w/ saucers, creamer, and sugar bowl: all for just 25 T!

Cute, and not a bad idea you supposed even if it did feel a bit overkill. Your original intention had just been to pick up a sugar bowl and maybe one cup, something for him to put candies in that had a lid so no flies could get at his violets. But it really would be a shame to pass up such a nice deal and hey, if Trey didn't like it he could just ditch it with the Heartslabyul kitchenware once he graduated and never speak to you again.

"Oh this is such a cute little selection!" The lady at the counter's eyes practically sparkle as she carefully wraps up your choices in tissue paper.

"It's a birthday gift." You can't help but mumble and the sparkle flutters out to her entire body, ah that's right, this lady always did look a bit bored when you came in. It seems like you have fed her and her knitting circle for the rest of the week.

"Well then this won't to at all." She huffs and stops wrapping up your order and bends under her counter, the tell tale ruffles of paper and boxes sounding oddly comforting as she produces what you think is a hat box and proudly begins to organize the mismatched set and fetches out even more tissue paper. "Must be for someone important with how long you've been eyeing up a sugar bowl." She wiggles her eye brows. You try to keep your focus on said bowl, you didn't realize she'd been watching you but then again you have been coming down here every spare weekend to stare at it. This shop was nice, it had a bunch of cheap clothes and nick knacks that were used sure, but a life saver for someone from a completely different world. If the lady is thankfully not offended by your silence. She simply tacks your receipt to the box and sends you off with a wink.

"Thank you for your purchase! Please come back soon!" And tell me all bout it! You swear she says it but you don't hear it, too much blood is thrumming in your ears

The hat box is not out of place among the gifts on the party table, so trey doesn't have an excuse to stare at it even if his eyes keep coming back to it. It's lavender, plain save for the cream bow he hopes Yuu tied around it, and had been decently heavy when he picked it up before Cater scolded him about playing favorites.

"Be a good Senior and eat the cookies we made for you until Riddle brings out the cake." He flicks his nose with a knowing look. "Normal people save the best for last right? I'm sure Yuu-yuu will be fine with waiting, since they can barely look at you today~" And of course like a fool he whips his head to look, startling them and proving Cater's point as they immediately scurry back to Ace and Deuce.

"Screw you." He's only half joking but Cater's fully laughing and probably already took a picture. "I'm just worried they felt like they needed to bring a gift I would have been happy just to-"

"No you wouldn't have." For someone who likes lying to himself Cater really doesn't seemed thrilled with his choice to gaslight himself. "You would have spent the rest of the night thinking 'ooooh it'd be really nice if I got something from Yuu, I wonder if they hate meeee, I should make sure they think I don't care about helping them some more so they leave me alone and I don't have to think about how nice it would be to-'"

"Cater!" Trey has never been so grateful to hear Riddle yell about anything in his life. "Could you please help me with the cake? I was going to ask Yuu but they had to go back to Ramshackle."

"Yuu's back at Ramshackle?" Trey reaches to adjust his glasses, trying to ground himself.

"Yes, they said they were feeling sick and-" That's all Trey registers, though he hears the rest "went back to lie down, Grim insisted on staying to make sure the food didn't get them sick." It's his party, he can't just leave that would be an extreme violation of the rules but Cater's earlier accusation comes back to him. Make them think I won't care about them. It's not intentional, he thinks it's obvious he always will but then again-

"Fifteen minutes." Cater whispers under his breath.

"Thirty."

"You're delusional." Still Cater doesn't sound mad. "Eighteen."

"Twenty." He's already snatched up the hat box and making his way towards the doors.

~~~~

"Awww Yuu." Phineas would pat your head if he could. "I'm sure it's not that bad, you're just overthinking things."

"Yeah I think anyone would be happy to get a gift from you!" Gus tries, all three ghosts perking up slightly when you smile just a bit at his encouragement. "And if not then well..."

"I know I'm just being dramatic but I couldn't stand waiting anymore." You don't mention how Ace and Deuce had been teasing you, not wanting to relive the absolute embarrassment of having been caught staring at their Vice-Warden one too many times for dots to remain unconnected. "I asked Grim to bring back some cake but I don't know if he'll remember."

"Oooh let's take bets on it!" Ezra cheers and a familiar, unexpected laugh interrupts sending the ghosts scattering and leaving you at the mercy of a familiar face.

"I think it's safe to say that would be a pretty obvious bet." Trey sets the hat box on your coffee table, folding his strong arms and firmly sticking a lump in your throat. "You should have bet on me."

"Returning your gift is not bringing me something." You huff and Trey has the decency to look a bit awkward.

"I'm not here to return it, there's rules to gifts you know." Oh no. "For example, on our birthdays, the Queen of Hearts says we get to ask for anything we want." He finally moves, unfortunately for you he's decided to use his height to his advantage and lean over the table to crowd you back into the couch. "And I spent a long time thinking about what I should ask for from you."

"Um- I well-" You're looking everywhere but him now, as if you were before. "I did get you a gift though?" He laughs.

"And you ran away before I could thank you." Trey begins to unwrap the ribbons, slowly as if he's waiting for you to look at him but not wanting to deny his curiosity any longer. "But that doesn't change the rules. Sorry, I didn't make them."

The sugar bowl is the first piece he finds, the shop lady has to have set it on top on purpose. His eyebrows raise, not in disappointment you think, curiosity hopefully as he slowly opens the rest of them.

"Sorry." You immediately say to fill the space out of habit, and Trey stops his examination to look up at you.

"What for?" He picks up the sugar bowl, just as amused as you with the clover flowers patterned across it in a nice twist on his name and half the accessories he owns. "Don't tell me you want this stuff back, its mine now."

"No! I'm glad you like," you cringe at the question in your tone and cower at the smirk on Trey's face "I mean I hope you like it."

"A hand picked tea set from the Ramshackle Prefect? It's perfect. Especially for a birthday gift for me." He carefully wraps up the cups and their saucers, silence once again falling over the room as you wonder why he hasn't called you out on your lie, the self doubt suggesting he hadn't noticed. "I meant what I said earlier you know."

"What, about making demands of me?" You say.

"Hey chill I only sort of meant it like that." He doesn't even bother trying to hide his amusement. "I mean betting on me. I know it might sound strange to hear me say, but I do have things I think are worth extra effort. And if I have to put in a lot of it to get you to understand that I am glad you are in my life, then I'll just have to do that." So he did know you weren't sick, and was just dancing around the subject to be polite as usual.

"Happy birthday Trey." Because what else are you supposed to say, and he tries his best to not let his disappointment show as he takes his opened gift back to the rose garden. "I'm- I hope you have a nice time at your party."

He pauses at the threshold of your dorm, the wicked smile returning. "I think I know what I want to ask you to do."

"Oh no." You did not mean to say that out loud.

"Mhm. But you are going to have to come back to Heartslabyul to hear it, but after the party, we can use our cups." Our cups he says, as if you had picked out any cups that were supposed to represent you.

He noticed, of course Trey noticed that there was no trace of Yuu in this very you gift. But he could fix that, if you would just give him a chance. And maybe get the calm celebration he actually wants when you do.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #hm #tempted to make goodwill lady an oc because i think yuu deserves an ally in crane port #no idea who she'd be based off of though lol

[vikinglanguage]

An assortment of more or less ridiculous Danish phrases to incorporate into your day-to-day life! (part the 2nd)

strømpesokker (noun, fk. pl.) – socksocks Or stockingsocks, if you will. It's socks either way.

(hjemme)futter (noun, fk. pl.) – (home)choos I literally had no idea how to translate this, but basically futter (fut in singular) are like slippers or any kind of cozy, comfortable shoes you'd wear indoors. I don't know why we sometimes call them that, but fut is also the sound a train makes. Thus: choos.

blamsefi (noun, fk.) – blasmephy Blasphemy, but wrong because it sounds funnier like this

idyd (interj.) – indeed This is what we in Danish tend to call an undersættelse (see below) of the English indeed. I 'in' and dyd 'virtue', but it kind of sounds like deed. Again, I don't know anyone who uses this except from my immediate family

undersætte (verb) – transearly (extremely not literally) Allow me to explain: in Danish translate is oversætte (lit. over + set, likely a calque of Latin trādūcō via German übersetzen). When you underdo the act of oversætte, so when you translate something badly, especially if you do it too literally, you have not translated it – you have transearlied it (excuse my creative liberties here)

hils (verb, imperative) – tell them I said hello You can use this in literally any situation when someone announces they are going anywhere at all. To Austria? Hils! Grandpa's uncle's dog's funeral? Hils! The restroom? Hils! (even better if it's not a public restroom). However, this is traditionally used to tell someone to tell the person on the other end of a phone call hello from you

knep (interj.) – fuck (literally) Literal translation of English fuck. This is considered extremely vulgar in the same way that I think fuck is to especially older speakers of English (?)

stande (verb, dialect) – refurb An alternate way to say istandsætte (long, boring, standard Danish) in the dialect of the area of Jylland where I'm from (Salling). It means to fix, repair or refurbish

slo (adj., dialect) – stale Literally means the same as stale, which (imo) doesn't have an actual word in standard Danish. Your crisps got old and soft? Slo. Bread old and dry? Slo. Straw wet and moldy? Slo. Soda lost all its fizz? Slo. Again, this is sallingbomål <3

goddawsbjerg (interj.) – g'day-hill Say this when it is clear someone has not been following what has been said or has happened around them, kind of as to say "thrilled you decided to join us mentally as well as physically". As for the prevalence, I literally don't know anyone outside of my immediate family who uses this

idyllerisk (adj.) – idyllicish Literally just idyllic but funnier

bajselademad (noun, fk.) – pinchocowich Bajselademad is a portmanteau of the words bajer/bajser 'beer' (slang, so I used pint instead of beer) and chokoladelademad 'chocolate sandwich' (open faced, obviously). It literally just means a beer

puttesove (verb) – tucky-sleep A sorta cutesy, joking way to say sleep. Putte is the word for tucking someone in, as well as just chilling in bed – with at least a blanket or duvet if not several in addition to pillows

diskodaskoluderbenzin (noun, uncountable) – disco dasco whore gasoline Excuse the misogynistic overtones, but I just genuinely think this is a very funny was of describing low percentage vodka- or rum-basesd drinks (for example Bacardi Breezer)

kodyl (adj.) – aspirin Kodyl means great or exaggerated, and you can also use it as an interjection kodylt! like you would use 'swell!', because it is pretty outdated. Kodyl was originally a brand of painkiller

hurtigkneppersko (noun, fk. pl.) – fast-fucker shoes Expensive men's shoes, usually of some kind of skin, be it leather or snake. It implies the wearer of the shoes is a braggart with nothing to really brag about. This was added to the dictionary fairly recently, to the great amusement of many Danes

slam! (onomatopoeia) – whack! An onomatopoetic word imitating the sound of being hit. Used not unlike the (now somewhat outdated) English "oooh, burn!" or just "ouch!" to indicate that something said to someone in your company was (perhaps unnecessarily) blunt, rude, or just shut them down really quickly – like a slap to the face

hjemmebragt (adj.) – home mrade Or, more accurately, home brought. Most commonly used for baked goods (originating from hjemmebagt 'baked at home') that you intended to make yourself, but you just didn't have time, so you bought it at the corner store instead. Its use has, however, in my experience been extended to include most anything that """should've""" been homemade, but isn't

konge (adj.) – king When something is really good, it's konge. Anything can be konge, from a chair to the meal your mother cooked you on your bi-annual visit at home.

brugsvildledning (noun, fk.) – user misleader · deceptions for use A play on the word for 'user guide', brugsvejledning, swapping out the nominalised form of the verb vejlede 'guide, lead' for that of vildlede ' 'mislead, decive'

ork (noun, fk.) – bear An ork is something that you just really cannot be bothered to do, because it would require some kind of effort. Doesn't matter how much effort, as it could be anything from getting your drink that you forgot in your kitchen, only realising this after you sat down, to explaining to your homophobic uncle why it's not acceptable to call gay people slurs, even if it is "just a joke". Most often, it is the former of those two scenarios

dak (noun, uncountable) – boom* Short for dakkedak, which is an onomatopoetic name for music with a strong, repetitive bass rhythm. *this is a bad translation, but it's the best I could come up with

gråssenollike (noun, fk.) – greyish feather-brain A joke-y name for a house sparrow, gråspurv. Gråsse is presumed to either originate from plain gråspurv or gråsset 'grey-ish', and nollike is a word that can mean fool, but also be used about animals or women in jest.

skemad (noun, uncountable) – spoon food Literally anything you can eat with a spoon. I believe its most common use is for the food you first give babies when they are moving on from nursing to real food, but I know quite a few people who use it for cereal because we literally only have the word “morgenmadsprodukter” for it, which is a mouthful to say.

#i present to you: part 2 #yes i think my translation of gråssenollike is clever and funny thanks for asking #danish #danish language #dansk #dansk sprog #langblr #danish langblr #vocab list #danish vocabulary #original

[jedibinx]

Okay romance boy (this is him getting ready for a date with me you know that right?) Delulu train is right on time, choo choo mother fucker

paidatonriehuja IG story 28/2/24

#käärijä #kaarija #jere pöyhönen #jere from vantaa #jere poyhonen

[waterfallofspace]

Entertainment Comes In Many Forms.

The one in which G/ojo has a cold, a meeting with someone he despises, and a boyfriend with a snz!kink who will also be in attendance. Also known as, G/ojo teases N/anami endlessly while in public, and also gets to torment principal Y/oshinobu (who has ‘a thing about germs’). Two birds with one exaggerated cold.  WELP, it was sure to happen, G/ojo (and J/JK in general) has been SO on my mind recently. Bear with me, it’s my first time writing these guys, so I don’t claim to have them down yet!! Buuuuut, I’m absolutely in love with G/ojo, so I had to do something with him~~ Bit of a shorter one this time, though I have a few ideas for longer J/JK stories if anyone’s interested! To anyone who bothers to read this, thank you! And I hope you enjoy~~ (References to swearing, and snz!fucker play (borderline smut), in case anyone doesn’t like those)  Characters: G/ojo, N/anami, Principal Y/oshinobu, and G/ojo’s cold.  Word count: 2k

It wasn’t like Gojo had planned to have a cold for this meeting. He’s good, but he’s not that good. It just so happens that fate was on his side this blessed fall day. He’d woken up with a scratchy throat a few days ago, which had morphed into congestion and a slight cough the next day, and by today, had grown into a full fledged cold.  The meeting with Nanami and the principal of Kyoto’s school had been planned for weeks, so technically if he had wanted to, he could have prepared for this, which honestly just made it feel sweeter to him. The fact that he hadn’t planned, everything was just working out his way. “Ihh’shuue-! haHH’TISHH’ieww-! hH’ISHH’iew-!” And then there was that. That had started yesterday, but came back in earnest today, just in time for the meeting. A smile breaks across Gojo’s face as he rubs his nose against his hand, delighted at the level of tickle that still buzzed within his sinuses. He was planning to put on a bit of a show, even wore his sunglasses instead of a blindfold for easier access to his eyes, but it was starting to look like his body was prepared to play its part all on its own.  Fashionably late, as always, Gojo takes his seat on the couch, the principal seated across from him on a chair, and Nanami to his left, leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for Gojo to arrive before choosing a seat. “Aw, were you all waiting for me? How sweet!” Nanami sighs, taking his seat on the chair set just to the left of the couch, reclining just enough to cross one leg over the other. Gojo follows suit, offering a drippingly sweet smile. “We had to wait for you. You can’t have a three person meeting with only two of the people.” Gojo puts on a shocked expression, bringing his hand to his mouth. “You can’t? Oh my, that’s certainly news to me! I’m so sorry for the wait then gentlemen.” The principal remains silent, eyes clouded, but Gojo notices the twitch in his hands against his cane, smirking to himself. ‘Oh, this is gonna be even more fun than I had planned, he’s already on edge!’  “Shall we get started then, principal?”  “Yes. First item to talk about is-” “hhEH’ISHH’CHOOO-!”  Gojo let loose with that one, tacking on a ‘choo’ at the end for good measure, making sure to bring up a wrist to cover with. Gotta start off easy, can’t have them clueing into the game before it gets good.  “Wheew, sorry guys, snuck up on me. I’m battling a bit of a cold, been quite sneezy today.” His eyes flick over to Nanami as he practically purrs the word. His boyfriend shows no real reaction on the surface, but Gojo doesn’t miss the way his eyes trace Gojo’s nose, down his neck, and back up again. The principal, meanwhile, has leaned back in his chair. It’s slight, but it’s enough to get Gojo’s blood pumping. ‘Let round one commence.’  “Well, you can’t exactly be blamed for that. Though, you’d think one as powerful as yourself would have a better immune system.” Gojo just smiles, fake and full of chocolate-coated spite. “One would think that, wouldn’t they? Turns out, not the case, I’m still human after all.” “So it would seem.” The conversation is polite, but each word drips with alternate meanings and tones of deceit. Gojo lets a wet snffff- escape as the topic turns back to the meeting. He’s fairly uninterested in whatever nonsense the principal and Nanami are on about, good thing he expected this. “And so when it comes to training new sorcerers, we’ve decided on-” “Huhh-! heH’ASHHH’OOOO-! Oh scuuhhhse- hEH’KTSHH’CHHOO-! Scuse me!” This time Gojo pretends to bring his arm up, very obviously, and purposefully, missing it entirely. It delights him to see the principal physically wince, pulling back even further in his chair. Nanami, however, let out a noise that, on anyone else, would be classified as a whimper, before clearing his throat and offering a weak blessing. “B-bless you…” “Thank you! Snnfff- guhhh… Still itchy, but I think it’s done for now. What were we talking about before I so rudely interrupted?” The principal starts up again about, well to be honest Gojo doesn’t even know what they’re on about at this point. He’s much more focused on letting the wet cough pour out into his hands. It shakes him enough that the couch rattles, and Nanami gives him a look of sympathy. “You need some water?” Gojo clears his throat, coughing finally tapering off, making sure to give a light sniffle to relight the tickle that was starting to burn through his nose again. He subtly turned his head, making sure Nanami had a full view of his twitching nose, finger rubbing against it. The principal however, would have a great view of his hands not reaching up to cover these ones. “Snnfff- Nah, thank you though Nanami, what a dear! I’m ahhhlriight… heHH-! Uhhh… hAHH- hh’hEHH-! HAH’TISHHH’OOO-! ISHH-TSHHH-hH’ISHHH’CHOO-!”  “Disgusting, at least co-” He cuts the principal off with another shaky inhale, making direct eye contact with Nanami, and taking notice of the way his legs are nearly trembling, before succumbing to another,  “AHH’KSHHH’OOO-!uhhhh hehH! hH’ISHH’iew-! Ishh’iew-! Hh’tishh’iew-!”  A few smaller ones slip out before he can add anything to them, but that’s more than alright. Giving Nanami another glace, Gojo smirks at the way his mouth is practically hanging open. ‘Well well, if I didn’t know better Nanami, I’d say you’re drooling~’  His nose is still trembling, and he brings up a palm to rub at it. While this is all very entertaining, he’s still actually sick after all, so he takes a sip of the water Nanami had set beside him earlier. It delights him when this brings another round of harsh coughs, making sure to aim towards the principal. The man is practically sweating, his knuckles full white as they grip his cane. He’s even showing his eyes, a sure sign of how offput he is. They are wide, and almost vibrating with anxiety. Nanami’s are also fixed on him, but he’s vibrating with a completely different emotion. “Bless you.” It’s soft, weak even. Not a word normally associated with Nanami, but given how his teeth chew at his lip, it’s the best he can do. “Thank you!  Jeez sorry, it’s juhhhst so tickly. Really don’t know why it’s… ihhts… heH’ISHH’SHOOO-! Why it’s this bad today, guess it’s just a fast acting cold.” Gojo smirks yet again as his last words seem to pierce right into the principal, helped along by his utterly uncovered sneeze. The man is practically shaking, sweat dripping from him as he attempts to push his chair right back through the wall. Finally he’s had it, and Gojo gives an innocent smile with a questioning glance as the principal stands up. “Leaving so soon? Don’t we have more business to attend to?” The congestion that’s seeping into Gojo’s voice coaxes a slight moan from the direction of his boyfriend, but the principal seems too preoccupied with fleeing to notice. ‘Probably for the best, I doubt Nanami wants an audience to what, undoubtedly, he has planned for this next part.’  “It can wait for another day. I have… uh… urgent matters… to attend to…”  Normally Gojo would have called him out on such a bullshit excuse, but today he was eager for the principal to take his leave, so he remains silent. Silent, aside from another harsh set of coughing he aims towards the gap between the principal and the door.  Another smirk works over his face as he watches the principal’s eyes narrow, trying to find a way to get out of the room without crossing the line of fire. Eventually he just decides to brave it, quite nearly running out of the room.  As they’re left alone ‘at last’ Gojo lets his attention fall completely on Nanami. The man is still sitting, but his entire body is trembling, his eyes hungry with desire. “Just us now. Anything in particular you wanna d-” He’s cut off by Nanami springing up from his chair, and grabbing Gojo up off the couch. He spins him around, pressing him against the wall, before letting a faint whine escape his lips with his next words.  “You cruel bastard.” “What~? That’s no way to talk to your sick boyfriend, I’m miserable over here. I’m just so tiiihhhckly, and itchy, and I ha- ahhhh- hAH-! Have to sneehheze.”  “No.” Nanami responds, pinching Gojo’s twitching nose between his fingers. “You’ve been tormenting me for this whole meeting, it’s time to return the favour.” Now it’s Gojo’s turn to whine, his nose practically trembling at the feeling of Nanami’s grasp. “Oh come ohhhn Nanami, you can’t b- be sehhhh- hEH-HDT-!uhhhh serious! Touching it juuhhhhh- hehhh- ihHheHH!uhhh just m- makes it tiihhhhckle so much more… you know how se- hehhh- sensitive I am.”  Nanami gives Gojo a smirk, a wicked look in his eyes, before starting to gently rub his fingers back and forth. Gojo gasps, hands suddenly twitching as he fights the urge to pull Nanami’s fingers off. His eyes flutter shut, tears starting to pool in them at the desperation of the tickle.  “When I give you permission, you aim them where I tell you to.” “hehH- ihh…haaahh… hAH-! Guhhhh…”  “Okay, go ahead.” And with that, Nanami releases his grasp, giving Gojo’s nose one final flick, which at this point, was completely unnecessary.  “heH’NNGT-! Knngt-! hh’dngt-! nngxxt-! hEH-!uhhh… hhihHH’knNGT-! hH’NGTT’shoo-!” A low growl breaks loose from Nanami’s throat as Gojo directs the onslaught of ticklish stifles against his neck, biting his lip hard as he feels the warmth of his twitching nose press just under his ear. “Let them out.” “Hmm~? I’m snehhh- sneezing, what else could you possibly mean?” Gojo whispers, his hitching breaths blowing gently against Nanami’s ear. In response, Nanami practically moans, the only thing stopping him is Gojo’s hand pressed against his mouth. “Uh uh uh, not yet. I’m n- hahhh! not quite through with you just yet. Patience is a virtue, Naahhhhnami.” Hearing his name hitched through is almost enough to send Nanami over the edge, but he holds on, Gojo’s hand promisingly close to his hips. Gojo’s nose, on the other hand, is trembling. He gently rubs it along Nanami’s neck, letting a few desperate hitches escape against the warm skin. Feeling a desperate twitch, he presses his nose into Nanami’s shoulder, using it to stifle the next fit. “hH’NNgt-! nNGT-! ehh’DNGGT-!hehh… ihh-HEH’NGXT-!”  Nanami whines, pressing his waist into Gojo’s and biting his tongue hard to keep from moaning at the sensations of the warm trembling nose being rubbed back up to his ear. In response, Gojo lets out a purr, giving Nanami’s ear a soft bite, before finally offering some relief to them both. He lets his breath hitch, gently blowing on Nanami’s neck, before finally releasing against him with a moan that Nanami soon echoes. “hIHH’ISHH’IEW-!  Oh dea- hAH’ASHH’IEW-! Ishh’uee-! So tickly… itch- itchy… hheH’Tishh-tshhh-kshhh-ishhhh’iew-! hahH’KISHH’UUE-! I can’t s- hAH’ASHH’IEW-! Can’t sto- stop- hH’ESHH’ooo-! mMMFSSH’IEW-! Bless mehehhh- Eh’shh’uue-! ESHH’IEW-!”  Both of them are panting by the time he’s done, with Nanami practically licking his lips. “Bless you.” “Guhhh- thank you. Must be one hell of a cold, snfff- I don’t think I’ve sneezed that much without allergic interference snff- or inducing it along in, hmm…heH’ISHH’IEW-! Oh, scuse me- Probably years now.” “You’re all stuffy now.” Nanami purrs, lightly nibbling on Gojo’s neck, and relishing in the whimper it elicits from the sniffly man. “So it would seem. Any- snnffff- any remedies you can think of?” The question is laced with deeper meaning, and Nanami sinks his teeth into Gojo’s lips in response, letting their mouths meet with a deep, hungry kiss. Only breaking it when Gojo needs to gasp for air, no longer able to breathe through his nose. “I can think of a few things.” 

#waterfallwrites #another double posting im so sorry hahaha #j/jk #s/atoru g/ojo #hes just begging for it #its pretty short so maybe that excuses double posting #anyways hope someone enjoys this but if not at least i had fun writing it #love wrecking this man #he absolutely begs for it you know he does #okay okay ramble over hope you enjoy! #snz #snzkink #snzfic

[vinetae]

Can we get a part two of my love? 😭❤️

A/n: Yes you can! Had to decide whether I wanted JK to care for Y/n or them both be sick together. Hope you like it! Thanks for the feedback <33

Warnings: Light makeouts, fluff, reflections on the confession, and more fluff. Y/n tasting like Jungkook's mother's chicken noodle soup lmao. Gross metions of sick symptoms (nasty coughs and detailed sneezes).

Part 1

---

"Son of a bi-"

sneeze

Your eyes were itchy and swollen, nose running faster than Niagara Falls, and body all achy and stiff. Thanks to Jungkook, you'd gotten sick two days after he had. Now here you lay, tangled up in his Matte black big comforter, with snot just oozing out both of your nostrils.

Your nose felt fuller than when you go to an all-you can-eat buffet. Nose felt more stuffed full than all the things the girls from high school whispered about you behind your back.

Nose feeling fuller than-

"You look so hot right now." Jungkook giggles, erupting into a nasty fit of phlegm filled coughs. His chest sounded more wet than he makes you.

and that's hard to beat.

Your head slowly swivels to the side, eyeing his delusional self in retort. "I am extremely hot. Your duvet is too fucking big."

His lips curve into a smirk as he reaches across to your side of the bed, blowing his nose into a once, pure white tissue. "That's what she sai-" More coughs to come.

It was like an episode of the Three Stooges. Dumb and Dumber. Super Troopers, and all of those stupidly comedic shows we all loved as a kid.

His black locks fall into view, as his hand runs along Bam's curved back. The small -big- puppy -dog- had hotdog-ed himself right in between the middle of you two, making it impossible to cuddle anymore. Who cared anyways? The last thing you wanted to do was-

"Jungkook.." Your eyes take to the right side, eyeing the small little tent caught between his legs. Your eyes roll. "Are you seriously hard right now?"

A small blush flushes his cheeks, lifting his knee up to make the errection a bit more concealed. His voice, tiny and guilt-traced. "Noooo.."

A chuckle erupts from your chest, finding this whole ironic situation one of the dumbest things you've ever done. You're probably wondering what happened after your little makeout-confess-sesh that you two had shared a few nights ago. well, it went a little something like-

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby-"

Your head lulls back, as his lips press open, heated kisses along the side of your neck. Hands traveling to the innards of your loose fitting Tee, while your hips bared down onto his. Bam had gone out of the room, to give you two some space. -He couldn't handle the bed shaking so much, poor little puppy-

Your fingertips trace along the roots of your scalp, nails lightly grazing as you press your forehead to his. Lips crashing into one another's like a crazy, unannounced storm in the middle of the ocean. All had been going well, until-

"aH CHOO-"

And that's how Jungkook ended up sneezing into your mouth. Pretty crazy -mostly nasty- huh? Yeah, you weren't so pleased either. I mean you've heard of rainbow kisses but not phlegm kisses. That's a new one, for sure.

Jungkook's fingertips extend out, tracing along the heated skin of your exposed thigh which had been using the cooling air as a sort of way to lower your body temperature. You groan, twisting over to the other side, not wanting to deal with his horny ass right now.

Right now, you just wanted to sleep.

But noooo.

This fucker had to go and get hard by you coughing.

"Babeee" He whines, chest still clogged from the infection you two are sharing. He's quick to shoo Bam to his own bed at the entrance of Jungkook's bedroom. The dog lazily rises, mouth hanging low from sleep still halfway controlling his movements. However, once he's gone, Jungkook's quick to take his place. Wrapping you up in his arms like a Christmas present.

You groan out, arms extending to try and pry yourself from his arms, as he's trailing light kisses along the straights of your neck. Moans eliciting from his chest, as his mouth moves downwards. He's quick to crawl on top, towering your body with his own, largely defined and built one.

Your hands push at his chest lazily. "I thought being sick lowers people's sex drive."

A tugs his lips, as his mouth collides onto yours, not giving a damn about your bad breath. Kissing you, had been like reward for him.

And he wanted first place.

Your conscious looses control, hands coiling around his neck to bring him in deeper. Tongues sharing a sloppy but romantic exchange in the midst of this sick fest.

Once you two pull away -both having a heaping cough exit- his head gently presses to your chest, as his body drapes over yours. The blanket you didn't know you always wanted.

"I'm sorry for getting you sick, baby." The tip of his index finger draws lazy figure-eights to your arm, using one of his many talents to create a piece only he could see. Spoiler Alert: It was of you.

Your arm slings around to catch his body in a loose hug before responding. The air-conditioner clunking in the background, as you two lay there, listening to the sounds of one another's heartbeats.

"You know.. if we hadn't gotten sick, would we have even gotten together in the first place?" His head raises at the question, thinking for a second.

"No, most definitely not." Your eyebrow quirks at his answer, body moving to prop up just a bit as you look down at him with a certain expression. One that had been a mix between hurt and confusion.

"Why.. not?"

A smile tugs the corners of his lips, before scooting on up to cover your entire body once more. Supporting his weight onto the faith he held in his greatly defined biceps. "Because you would've turned me down."

"What? No I would not."

He hums. "Mhm, you would've. You clam up when you get out on the spot."

"Psh, everyone does that." You push his body to the side, kicking the comforter away as a wave of sickly heat runs it's coarse through your body.

He twists to lay on his side, one arm supporting his head as he continues. "Yeah, but I saw you doing that little thing you do with the ring your mother got you."

"The spinning one?"

He nods.

"Hah, it's just a fidget." He scoots closer, lips, grazing across yours before backing you into an imaginary corner.

"Mhm, a nervous one."

Rolling your eyes, you push at his chest once more. A little nudge towards the way you wanted him to go. Changing the subject quickly. Today wasn't a -'let's get into past traumas' kinda day. Maybe another time.

"Yeah yeah, go brush your teeth. You taste like chicken soup." He chuckles, walking over to your side before scooping you up bridal style. His head nuzzles close to you, as he walks towards the bathroom, setting your bum to the counter.

Hands trapping you on both sides, as he leans in close, pressing a light peck to your nose tip, before exhaling a relieved breath.

"I'm so glad I got sick."

#jungkook #bangtan #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x female reader #bts jungkook #jjk #jk #jungkook fluff #bts jk #my love part 2 #jeon jungkook #bts #bts masterlist #bts fics #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Part 23

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 4.9k

Synopsis: Choo choo

Warnings: Lots of violence (if you read the last part you already know what kind)

Six hours since Johnny had been taken. Just six and the fuckers already knew enough about him to put a video on the internet to let everyone know they had someone of value. His fingers were dug into the leather of the chair as Price asked Watcher, "Have you watched it yet?" The young man shook his head, he felt a sense of dread as the cursor on the screen neared the play button. All eyes stared ahead, even Konig and Ghost, so close to one another, no longer paid any mind to their grievances. This wasn't about them, this was about Soap.

-------- (Soap POV)

Fingers dug at the skin underneath his arms, hauling him up from where he had been thrown a few hours earlier, or had it been minutes, he couldn't keep track of the time anymore. It had been so dark and so cold in here that he thought he was gonna freeze to death before they came back. Maybe that would be better though, no telling what these people had in store for him. His hands were bound by something sticky, duct tape probably, and when he tried to move his feet he could tell they too had been tied together by something. The fingers hoisted him up, he couldn't see their faces, he couldn't see anything really. Oh, there was a hood on him, now that made sense.

The fingers released him and he felt the cold floor seep through the fabric of his shirt and pants. He tried to crawl his way forward, but a boot pressed its heel on the back of his hand, pain shooting up his arm but it was secondary to the thoughts he let run through his mind and ground him. The rules, his rules, the ones his experience had taught him well. Rule 1: Do not make a sound, never let them hear you breaking. Rule 2: Little things, you tell them the insignificant details first if you have to, if you just can't take it anymore and you need it to stop if only for a moment. Rule 3: Never sell out your team, never put a target on their backs. Your team can bring you back but not if they're trying to keep themselves from getting killed or taken as well.

The hood slid off over his head, light blinded him and he closed his eyes against it while his head pounded and he had the overwhelming urge to sleep. Had the flash done this much damage to his head? Maybe he wasn't ready when he came back, his head didn't feel like it was healed now that was for sure. A foot rolled him over and then a hand was pulling his eyelids up, harsh light sending another round of pain through him. Don't flinch, whatever you do don't flinch, he forced himself to look up, to gaze upon his captors with the disdain that flooded every corner of his mind. The man he saw was not who he expected, but did you ever expect to see your HVT right in front of you? If your HVT knew who and where you were there was a problem and he already checked one of those off his list.

Ilya Barandin, Soap blinked for a couple seconds before the man smiled above him, but there was no warmth there, only the cold hard truth that he was internationally, galactically fucked. "I thought I recognized you, you're the one who came to my city and stole my favorite German."

His brows furrowed and he managed to croak out, "What?"

The smile dropped for a moment as he answered, "Konig, it was you on the cameras, I even have a recording. Much like the one I'm going to put of you on the internet for everyone to see."

Fingers pulled him up to his knees and watched the Russian as he moved towards a man holding a camera. His heart jumped as the red light came on, recording him and Ilya both. "Hello," he gave a little wave to the camera, his smile back on his face as he pandered to an audience that would soon be millions. How did he keep it there when he obviously felt no joy? "So you come into my city, take my friends, and don't even have the good manners to say hello first. And you don't stop there, you come to my country next, and think that I won't know?" Ilya paused to take a step back towards him, the dark eyes glancing over his shoulder to lock on to his target before a finger raised, pointing at him. "And you do it, all of it, with the same man? You think I wouldn't recognize the Sergeant John MacTavish? Say hello to the world John, tell your friends and family hello."

Ilya motioned to the camera, and Soap stayed stubbornly silent, even when hand pulled him up on his knees. The Russian sighed and nodded at someone behind him before he saw them come around and a fist slammed into his jaw. Lights flashed behind his eyelids, shit he could smell colors right now he was sure. That was red right there, warm and painful and metallic. His stomach tightened at the urge to puke but he had nothing to expel, instead he felt blood trickle out of his mouth to the cold floor under him. Hands pulled at him again, he had fallen over though he didn't remember hitting the ground. "Say hello John," the man repeated with a glare despite the smile on his face again.

Soap returned the glare up at the man before spitting out, "Fuck off ye daft cunt. I amnae saying shite for you, I don't speak for anyone I speak for myself ya prick." He didn't see the nod from the Russian but he still felt the fist land, on his other side this time, were there two of the bloody bastards?

"You know John we could have a lot of fun, you and I, but not if you are gonna talk like that. Now try again, say hello, I'm sure your team would want to hear it from you, da?" Ilya was watching him with narrowed eyes, don't blink, don't react, just stare straight ahead, give them nothing to go off of.

Soap stayed silent for a couple seconds before finally muttering, "Hello."

It seemed to satisfy the Russian at least as he turned back to the camera. "So you have something I want, and I now have something you very desperately want. How about we trade? You give me back Suheil and, let's say, a million UK pounds for emotional reparations and I'll give you back little John here." Someone handed Ilya a syringe, watching as the man backed up towards him. Soap started to move backwards but hands grabbed his shoulders on both sides and he couldn't escape. "You have four days to get me what I want," the needle slipped into his neck and he watched as the plunger pushed down, the liquid inside emptying into his veins. Everything went blurry and he couldn't keep his eyes open. He tried to work his mouth but all he could do was let out a strained gurgle. And then it all faded, the emptiness of the void protecting him in its womb, for now.

---------- (Ghost POV)

Soap’s head slumped forward and Ilya pulled the needle out, handing it off to someone. The Russian stared at the camera with his empty smile and kneeled down beside Soap. His fingers grabbed the dark locks and pulled his head up, face blank for the camera now, no longer carrying that telltale look of defiance that was just Johnny. "Four days. Each day you fail to comply, your friend and I will have a chat, nice and long. Don't wait four days, you won't like the outcome. Just ask Konig." The video ended then, Ilya still smiling at the screen.

Ghost felt the rage boiling in his mind, no longer was it a want, it was a need to kill the man. He turned his eyes down quickly to look at the German as the Captain questioned, "What does he mean by ask you Germ?"

Konig was still staring at where the video was, until slowly all gazes turned to him. His green eyes were wrought with disbelief as he answered, "He gave KorTac the same ultimatum, and you saw the aftermath of that. He tortured us for three days, the fourth day he killed us."

The pit in his stomach grew wider when Gaz spoke up then, "We need to get him back, Captain."

"Agreed," Price answered, standing up to look at Laswell. "When can we leave?"

Ghost didn't bother to wait for the woman's answer, he was at the door in a second as he growled out, "Now."

-------

Eighteen hours and twenty seven minutes since Johnny had been taken. Eighteen hours and twenty seven minutes since the world had shattered around him. Since he’d gazed over the precipice and known he couldn’t do this, couldn’t live without that little bastard annoying him at every turn and constantly being under his feet. Every room in this base had been cleared, every single one and there wasn’t even a trace of the Scotsman to be seen. Watcher had been tasked to their unit and was sitting behind a computer terminal now. Konig, Price, and Gaz were down the hall searching through every file, every piece of physical evidence they could find, for anything that could tell them where Soap was.

The ginger Scotsman behind him stood and said quickly, “I’ve got everything, we can go now.”

Ghost grunted and moved down the hall with Watcher right behind him, “Comin’ in Price.” They turned into the room where the rest of the team was sifting through everything.

The Captain barely even looked up as he skimmed a file before he took a phone out of his vest and snapped pictures of three flight manifests, all claiming multiple passengers on board but not having any names that were of note. He lifted his hand to his radio and his voice came over everyone’s headset, “Laswell, I’ve got three flight manifests here, sending you the pictures now.”

“I’ll start tracking them down now,” the woman said over the comms.

Price motioned for Watcher to get over there, he had become their designated pack mule for the time being since he was already carrying computer hard drives, what difference would a few files make to the Scotsman. He turned the young man around, unzipping his pack and shoving the files inside before he zipped it back up and said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Ghost led them out without a word, counting every second in his head that Soap wasn’t there with them. Thoughts focused on a single thing, getting Johnny back and alive in one piece. Not just for his own selfish thoughts but for Soap’s physical and mental wellbeing, so his family never has to bury a son, a brother, or an uncle. Johnny was gonna grow old living whatever life he fantasized about if it was the last thing he did.

A three hour flight out of the country and to the nearest motel they could find much to Ghost’s annoyance, if it were up to him they’d be sniffing that Russian bastard down with or without the intel they needed. But, realistically they had no information on where to go, they had no choice but to wait while Watcher and Laswell worked through all the information they had gotten from the base. Laswell was roomed with Price and Gaz, while Konig, Watcher, and Ghost were shoved into a room together. Laswell tracked the flight numbers down to each of their respective destinations while Watcher sorted through the digitized information.

The German and the Scotsman showered quickly, changing into fresh clothes after getting the gore off of their bodies. Ghost was reluctant to clean the blood off his hands though, to change out of the clothes that had been soaked in the blood of the men who had stolen Soap from them, from him. However, when he caught the German looking at him he let out a gruff, “What’re you lookin at me for?”

Konig’s glare hardened even more before he answered, “Trying to figure out what is going through your head.”

Ghost’s eyes narrowed and both men stared at one another for a few seconds, tension building in the room. He half expected to hear a Scottish accent cutting in, breaking their eye contact but it didn’t come. The only Scot here was the ginger typing on his keyboard as he sorted through the data on the hard drives they’d taken with a can of soda sitting on one of the night stands beside him. “It’s none of your fuckin business Konig,” he disappeared into the bathroom, showering quickly and staring at himself in the mirror. He reached a finger up to the scars that were etched across his face. The memory of Johnny doing the same thing flashed through his mind and he dropped his hand to the sink, rocking into it as his knuckles turned white. He gripped it as he tried to hold himself together, to not feel all the emotions trying to flood his mind. His chin fell and hazel eyes closed, head shaking as he forced the emotions back where they belonged.

Twenty four hours and three minutes since he’d been taken, he had to hold it together. Breaking down was not an option, get angry, see red, but do not break down. Ghost pulled his clothes on, hands shaking as he pulled his mask on in the mirror, hiding his face behind the black balaclava. He left the bathroom, throwing his bag on the seat near the door into the room. Watcher was still typing on his laptop, the soda can now gone and replaced by a bottle of water and a bag of chips. Konig had moved to the other side of the bed, elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. The German looked up at him as he stood at the window, looking out at their truck with one shoulder leaning against the wall. He heard the other man huff and saw his head shake in the reflection of the window before he turned his attention to the reflection of the man on the bed, “I do not understand you.”

He felt a growl rise in his throat as he answered, “Good thing you don’t need to then.”

The German stood up, the bed creaking at the loss of his weight. His head tilted as he watched the Lieutenant, “You act as if you do not care. Why? You obviously cared enough when you tried to beat me for spending the night at his apartment.”

Ghost gritted his teeth, hazel eyes narrowing as he stared at Konig though he still leaned casually against the wall, “I do care. He is my teammate too. What happened the other night was a misunderstanding.”

Konig gave a cynical laugh at that, “Is that what you call it? A misunderstanding? You know as well as I do he was more than a teammate, do not say that quatsch to me Ghost.”

He pushed himself up from the wall then, watching as the German stalked closer now. There was a distinctive lack of typing now, Watcher’s eyes flicking between the two of them nervously. “The bloody hell do you want me to say Konig? That I’m sorry for breaking your nose? I’m not, deal with it.”

The big man was wearing the black mask that Soap had gotten him, the one that didn’t cover his entire face, only his mouth, nose, and part of his cheeks. He could see the way his face reddened, not in a blush but in a deep seated rage. The words flew out of his mouth seemingly without thought, “Du bist eine Verschwendung einer Existenz. Du warst, du bist und du wirst immer eine böse Kreatur sein, die seiner unwürdig ist. Jetzt wirst du nicht mehr geliebt werden.”

Ghost’s eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, “Say it in english, coward.”

The man didn’t hesitate, “You are a waste of an existence. You were, you are and you will always be a nasty creature unworthy of him. Now you won't be loved anymore.”

It finally set him off, he struck out smacking a fist into Konig’s face. He felt the cartilage give under his knuckles, still not completely healed from the last time he’d hit him. The German fell back a couple steps but when Ghost tried to follow it up, arms wrapped around his torso and drove him to the ground and the air was forced from his lungs. He kicked upwards, a foot smacking into hard abdominal muscles but the man didn’t budge. A fist came down at his face, then another, and another. He heard the room door open, catching the sight of ginger hair fleeing the room. Ghost kicked again, pushing Konig up and flipping him over his head. He was scrambling to get on top of him when he heard the door open again. He lashed out with a fist missing his mark when hands grabbed him, pulling him backwards. Ghost roared at the German as he watched the man stand up, trying to fight through the strong arms that had locked around his waist and now had him pinned against the wall.

It was Price’s voice that broke through the red haze in his vision, “Ghost! Stop! Bloody hell mate stop!” Konig stood fists clenching at his sides as the Lieutenant calmed slowly, Laswell and Watcher standing at the door looking between the two men. 

Finally he stopped struggling, and growled at the Captain, “I’m fine, let me go.” Slowly Gaz and Price’s arms holding on to him released their tight grip. They were both unsure at first but when he pulled away and stalked to the other side of the room to stand on the other side of the bed. He distanced himself from everyone else and the tensions seemed to subside at least for the moment.

The Captain looked between him and Konig now, “What fuck are you muppets doing? We barely just get here to get some rest and you two are fighting like you’re each other's enemies? Are you fuckin kidding me? Use your fuckin heads!”

Konig was staring hard at Ghost but he didn’t say anything, neither in German or English. The Lieutenant had to break the silence, “We’re fine Price. Disagreement.”

The brunette shook his head, noticing for the first time he wasn’t wearing a beanie or the boonie hat. Soap would have had a field day with that, he never would have shut up about it. “No, I've had enough of whatever this is between you two. But we are a man down and a minute short we do not have the resources to be fighting right now. Shelf whatever the fuck is wrong with the both of you and deal with it after we get Soap back. Get your head out of your asses.” The Captain shot a glare at Konig and said, “You’re changing rooms Germ, get your shite. Gaz you’re in here with Watcher and the other big bastard.”

----------

Twenty five hours and forty two minutes since Soap had been taken. He couldn’t sleep and it wasn’t just because of Gaz’s loud snores, and Watcher having yet to close his laptop as he imagined Laswell in the other room was doing the same thing. When the typing stopped it took his mind a second to realize the absence before his eyes shot to the ginger who was staring at his screen, fingers paused over the keys as if time had frozen. “What’s wrong,” his deep voice rasped out, throat dry and cracking, as he took his eyes off of the truck for the first time that night other than his fight with Konig anyway. Watcher still didn’t move, frozen, and for a moment he thought he might be sleeping and just hadn’t realized it. He lifted the sleeve of his shirt, pinching the skin hard enough that it would undoubtedly bruise later. Everything stayed the same, the streetlight outside still flickered and the occasional car still chugged by slowly on the road outside. He asked his question again, raising the volume of his voice then, “What’s wrong, Watcher?”

Blue eyes found his face before the man finally answered, “There’s another video.” He felt like he’d been punched in the gut, the urge to panic trying to set in as he actively smothered it again. They were supposed to have four days. Twenty five hours and forty seven minutes, that wasn’t four days.

---------- (Soap POV)

The sedative wore off slowly, the dark world around him coming into focus groggily and it didn’t help that he was shivering so hard his teeth were clicking together. The concrete room was literally freezing and he felt, was he wet? He tried to move his toes but he couldn’t tell if they responded or not, he couldn’t feel them. He’d lost the pants and shirt he’d been wearing on his last mission, replaced by a thin pair of pants and an even thinner t-shirt all that clung to him, while the wet fabric chafed his skin.

Blue eyes scanned the room, his body spasming in an attempt to generate heat, far past just shivering now. Soap slid himself backwards until his back hit a wall, analyze your surroundings and get your bearings. There was nothing to analyze though, he was in a lightless room and his hands and feet were still tied. He didn’t manage to stay upright long though as he trapped his fingers between his thighs and his shoulder smacked against the cold concrete floor. Every surface sapped his warmth, whatever his shivering was creating didn’t stick long in his limbs.

It was timeless sitting in the dark, draped in wet clothes. When the door finally opened and light filtered into the room he couldn’t summon the energy to move, only his eyes could find the two men who stepped inside. Puffs of air were visible in the light as they grabbed him by the arms, dragging him out of what he feared might soon be his tomb. He continued to shiver even as they pulled him through the heated sections of whatever building they were in. Eyes examined every surface, trying to find something, anything of import he could use to his advantage.

When they lifted him up over a step and then threw him down he realized he was in the same room as last time. His body couldn’t stop shaking even when the Russian rolled him to his back with that same empty smile staring down at him. “Good morning, John, did you sleep well?” Soap stared up at him, he opened his mouth to answer but he couldn’t get the words out past his chattering teeth. “You should have said you needed a blanket if you were cold, your poor lips are turning blue. Oh and apologies for the wet clothes, you smelt like shit, so I told the men to give you a bath.” Ilya turned to look at the camera, nodding to the man who was behind it before the red light turned on and he knew he was being recorded for the whole world to see again.

The Russian spread his hands and shook his head as he paced in front of the camera. “One day down and poor John I have to tell you, I really thought your friends would care more about you. See I was even kind enough not to hurt your teammate 141, and you repay that kindness with silence. So John,” dark eyes looked down at him as he signaled with a hand to the men who had brought him here. He heard a chair slide across the floor before hands lifted him under his arms and sat his still helplessly shivering body into the chair. He knew he would have fallen over again if it wasn’t for the hands of the two men holding him in place. Ilya leaned down beside him as he looked at the camera, “Looks like we have to have that talk.”

The tape on his hands was cut and the men pulled his arms away from where he had been warming his frozen fingers in between his thighs, or at least attempting to. He opened his mouth, sucking in cold air that chilled him even further before he growled out, “Go stick…yer dick…in a blender.” He felt his hands press back together as he was rebound, and then his ankles were taped to the legs of the chair.

Ilya’s smile turned into a smirk then and his head tilted, “Where is Suheil, John?” Soap was finally getting his shivering under control, staring at Ilya with clear defiance. “If I ask again you wont like the way I do it. Don’t make your team watch that, I hate to be the bad guy.” The Scotsman stayed silent, even when the Russian sighed and gestured to the men who moved the chair closer to the camera. Ilya pulled his own chair forward, taking a seat beside him as a knife was handed to him. He tested the blade for a moment with the tips of his fingers before he glanced up at him again, “Where is Suheil, John?” Soap stared forward, not saying anything even as the knife neared his leg. The thin fabric cut like butter under the knife, exposing two huge gashes, one in his thigh and the other in his calf. They were both angry, red, and puffy and undoubtedly were infected by now.

“We should get you something for that, don’t you think?” Fingers pressed against the torn flesh and the small shivers still going through him hid the flinch he couldn’t stop. The fingers slid into the flesh, digging in as blood coated the man’s hand and wrist. His hand disappearing deeper than any foreign object should have been able to go. He felt like a worm was burrowing into his muscle. Soap couldn’t take in a full breath, his face contorting despite his best effort to control his expression. His breath halted when another finger pressed into the open wound, digging around like he was searching for something, “Just gotta make sure the dog didn’t leave anything behind, you understand da?”

Blue eyes turned to glare at the man, his breath shallowing even more at the pain, “Aye I understand.” He paused to strangle a groan in his throat before continuing, “I understand that every girlfriend or wife you’ve ever had walks away disappointed. Your fingers couldn’t satisfy the tightest woman on the planet and I’m sure anyone who has ever been with you is looser than your mother was the day she pushed out yer big head.” Ilya’s eyes narrowed at him and he added in a growl that could rival even Ghost’s, “The least you could do is play some bloody music so I don’t have to sit here listenin to your pre-pubescent voice, or maybe some fuckin earmuffs that’d be nice.” The knife struck out without thought, the pain in his thigh blinded like the sun. Despite it though, and despite his shaking head and muffled groans, he was laughing. He, the dead man, the victim, was sitting here torturing his captor mentally just as much as he was receiving physically. Wasn’t that some backwards shit?

---------- (Ghost POV)

Shut up Johnny, just shut your mouth for once in your fuckin life. The video went on for fifteen minutes, Soap’s emasculating and berating comments flying out so fast he was sure the Russian was going to cut out his tongue before it was through. He noticed just how bad his stomach hurt, the bile rising in his throat with every cut of the blade across once unmarred skin. Skin he had marked to hell once, skin he had claimed as his. “He’s cold,” the voice broke him away from the picture at the end of the video. Soap’s head once more hanging forward after being sedated with whatever fuckin drug they were shoving into him.

“What does that even mean?” Gaz asked, turning a questioning look over at Konig who was standing just barely in front of Ghost.

Konig leaned back, fingers lacing behind his head as he remembered what he had been through with the Russian. “When he had us he used the environment, the heat in my case, to try and break us psychologically,” a finger tapped against his temple as he indicated what he meant. “He put us into what turned into a sauna, packed together and radiating heat, sun beating on us every morning and evening while he tortured us through the afternoon. He used the desert to break us.”

Something in Laswell’s mind seemed to click and she nodded slowly agreeing with the German, “You think he’s doing the same thing to Soap.” She disappeared for a few seconds, returning with her laptop from the other room as she opened the files that Price had sent her from the last base. “One plane flew to Brazil, where it is currently summer so going off of what Konig is saying we can strike it off the list. Another plane took off to Estonia, and the other landed in Ukraine. It could be either one, John.” She turned her gaze to the Captain, neither one certain they wanted to make this decision.

Finally, Price steeled him as he made his decision and said, “Ukraine is more likely, we’ll go there first. Pack up boys, we’re leaving.”

#slow burn #soapxghost #soapghost #soap cod #soap #ghostxsoap #ghost cod #ghost #ghoap #john soap mactavish #captain john price #john price #call of duty #captain price #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick #konig cod #konig #kyle garrick #gaz #price #laswell cod #simon ghost riley

[harleykeener69]

I'm hiring a fucking dump truck to deliver all these fucking gifts. Choo Choo mother fucker. You can't be sad when you're buried in a metric ton of squishmallows. -@starkling19

NOOOOOOOOO YOU ACTUALLY BETTER NOT JAMES WOULD KILL ME IM GONNA CRY DONT DO THAT MORGNA PLZZ DONT

#ILY U SM POOKIE #ILLYYY

[lorei-writes]

Eldwin Means Old Friend

Gen Fic, Crack Fic On ye olden days of Obsidian Word Count: ~400

Written for @wordycheeseblob >:) Once upon a time we had this chat about Gilbert's great-great-great-(...)-great-grandpa and how it came to be that Rhodolite is now known as the land of roses (pettiness). This is the elaboration on it.

Back in ye olden days, when everything was better, more rightful, more just, when everybody worked harder than hard (of course)…

Back in ye olden days, when everything was better, more rightful, more just, when everybody worked harder than hard (of course)…

The pre-predecessor of what would later become Obsidianite royalty sits on the throne. Obsidian? It is just being born. Not in the head of the king, however, for he is not one well acquainted with thoughts. No, there is another person, another man of much greater talent… but of frail state. Eldwin Kloss, the advisor, kneels on the crimson carpet. He lowers his head, although he doesn’t quite bow.

“Your Majesty has summoned me,” he states, but a thin veil of politeness obstructing the deeply rooted disdain.

The king does not notice; he never has. “I did. And do you know why?”

“Well, Your Majesty has not spoken a word of the reason, so no, I do not. May I, perhaps, maybe, possibly – and of course, most servilely, for I would never dare serve anybody else – inquire about my orders?”

“Well, I did give you an order for winning that eating contest last harvest, but how is it connected to anything?”

“The instructions, Your Majesty. Orders, as in instructions.”

The king scratches his chin, his perfectly royal and royally perfect elbow propped on the armrest of his seat. He stares. He stares so insistently it transcends what could be considered seeing, arriving at conclusions those of ordinary minds could not possibly fathom. (For the better, that is.) The silence rings hollow, air holding itself in, forgetting that it in fact does not need to breathe.

“Oh. Homo… Homo…”

“Nymphs, My Liege.”

“Yes! Indeed!”

“But the instructions?”

The king slams his fist against the throne. His nostrils flare, his face grows red, redder than the greatest of the beetroot-kind; his knuckles whiten, and soon enough, he draws blood from his palm with his very own nails.

“Those fuckers, Eldwin! Those fuckers! Roses again!”

“Your Majesty, the hand.”

The hand still bleeds. “They know!” the king yells. “Know! I sneeze! At! Roses!”

Eldwin’s shoulders slump. Dejectedly, he forces himself to his feet. “Achoo?” he yawns.

“A-a-a-choo!” the king shouts. “Make their rivers run black to dye all their white laundry! Chop! Chop!”

Eldwin hides his face in his palms. “As Your Majesty orders, the servant does.”

“About that harvest again?”

“It was a homo —”

“That homo!”

Homo not sapiens, but who is Eldwin to talk? As lowly as a bug, he curtseys (no discrepancies are detected, so why not) and exists the throne room. He shakes his head. He cannot go any longer like that, even if it means the future of his children may be what the king would call a “pain in the butt”.

And so began Eldwin’s personal collapse arc.

You've seen a typo? Let me know!

#ikepri #ikemen prince

[nonotranslates]

Walpurgis 2020 - Login Story 1 (200502) ft. Bradley, Rustica

A short oldie. Just tryna translate some of the older login stories that have never been translated before.

====== Enchanted by Magic of the Ephemeral Night - Short Story 1 ======

Bradley: ……

Rustica: The preparations for our afternoon tea is all done, Bradley. Please, feel free to help yourself to some. 

Bradley: ……That ain’t it, why do I gotta have this tea stuff with ya in the first place? 

Rustica: You always look busy, so I thought it'd be great for you to relax and let your mind catch some rest from time to time. 

Bradley: It ain’t that I look busy, you're just way too relaxed. Well, I ain’t gonna turn down an offer for food though. 

Bradley: Ooh, this pastry here ain’t too sweet on the tongue, ain't it pretty good! 

Rustica: Ahaha, I’m glad that you like it. That scone goes really well with tea too, I believe you’ll be pleased if you try it. 

Bradley: I'm not a tea person, but since you’re praising it that much…….

*Sound of lifting a porcelain cup* 

Bradley: ……Yuck, this is awful! Ya fucker, how dare you make me drink mud tea!? 

Rustica: Ah, my bad. I forgot to add the most important touch to it. This tea is made using a special kind of leaf, you see. 

Rustica: Though it tastes like muddy water by itself, once you add a certain special spice to it like this, it will magically turn into a most delicious drink…….

*Pepper shaker sounds*

Bradley: Hey, don’t tell me that special spice yer talking about is pepp…….

Bradley: ……Ah-choo!! 

*Bradley poofs*

Rustica: Here, it's all fine and delicious now. Huh? Bradley’s not here anymore……

Rustica: To suddenly remember he has something urgent to attend to, he truly is a busy person after all. I hope that there comes a day where he gets to enjoy a relaxing afternoon tea in peace.

#mhyktl #bradley bain #rustica ferch #mahoyaku #promise of wizard #mahoutsukai no yakusoku

[biteable-pink-pixie]

Man I haven't huehuehuehued in ages. Thanks for reminding go get back on the huehuehuehuehue train.

Choo Choo mother fucker 💕💕

#pixie asks 💕

[inkedmyths]

S1: E21 "Salvation"

Brought to you by Dean's a Birthday Boy Today Happy Birthday

This episode featuring: Father of the year (not), she's back and needs a haircut, John Winchester has friends?, and life lessons from The Magnus Archives that should be applied here

Oh opening song? Hewwo?

This is your calling...

Hmm interesting to see what's being focused on in the recap...

Ah yes a church. Great start

Meg!! I fucking knew it!!!

Is she going to murder the priest

Meg also needs a better haircut

Well thats unfortunate Mr Priest man

Imagine ur a priest and this happens to you

Oh he actually has knives and shit good for him

Oh hes another hunter related person

Right. Kill a hunter, bring the others to you as they investigate

Well thats creepy

Damn thats a fucking lot John Winchester

Exactly 6 months

Sam is having a weird guilt thing abt this

Its got something to do with the psychic shit I think

ITS A PLACE. SALVATION IOWA. Demon's got a sense of humor lol

Pastor Jim Murphy.... demon......

Alright time to track dooooown. Infant birth dates. Hospital break in time lol

Bro whys the camera so fuzzy there lmao

Thats rough though. Hearing your friend died like that. I mean obv its the business but

Uh oh! Sam is having a vision!

The next victim...

Based on a train and houses

Is that the demon though? Or is he seeing something else? How can he know

Bro Sam these visions... aaaare not helping your social skills

Dear God thats Horrific

Well now we have to explain the spooky visions to John

BRO YOU WEREN'T PICKING UP THE PHONE. ASSHOLE

MEG

Aha. So she's going after his comrades to get him to stop

DUDE THIS OTHER GUY HAD THE GUN FOREVER AND THEY DIDN'T GO AFTER HIM BUT NOOOOOW

Bitch

Whats this demon's fucking problem

Damn... just want to stop losing people.....

Choo choo

You Make Every Shot Count

Let's go kill some demons!!!

Ok are we doing some jumping back and forth

Spoooooky warehouse

Very atmospheric

I think it would be funnier if they solved it by setting the house on fire first. Beat the demon at its own game. Not holy fire just fire. Plain old arson. Gertrude Robinson this shit. Can't have the lady burn on the ceiling if you burn the ceiling first!

Blessing a whole thing of water? I mean sure ig. I am 90% thats not how holy water works but

Brotherly bonding. Heart to heart

LMAO "Just in case" "Bro don't u even START"

Hewwo Meg

Damn hes stone cold.

Whos this fucker

LMAO HE TESTS THE GUN ON HER?

Well Johns a bit fucked but that was funny. Damn Meg u trust this guy? Like really Meg you did just get shot and you're going along with this

HAHA holy water. That was pretty clever Mr Winchester

Oh shit here it comes

Run John Run

Well this is Tense

What the fuck is that!!

I dont think u shot it

Shit Mr Winchester that sucks

Damn this poor family

Oh hes just standing there. Hewwo demonic bastard

Sam cmon you idiot the house was on FIRE

Sam "That thing killed mom that thing killed Jess" vs. Dean "Nothing will happen to you not while I'm around"

Aha the Bitch

GOD OK EPISODE OVER

---

No time for thoughts I have to watch the next ep

#on the highway to superhell #supernatural #spn #all in honor of deans bday i guess #broooo whats happening man

[tiso-heart]

choo choo, fucker

#hollow knight #hk tiso #art #submas #kinda #the outfit is the same colors as his hood #how the fuck do i tag this