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#it's not a job kyle it's a friendship
nautical-nasa · 2 months
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I want u all to know I have fleshed out a fairly decent concept idea draft for the F1 WAG event coming up and my god….. I’m so happy with it actually
y’all just aren’t ready for Rancher Mick, Seb, & Logan
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f1byjessie · 2 months
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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.
sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.
( lando norris x photographer!reader )
━━ part four.
“Saw McLaren posted pics of the new car,” Jack says in lieu of a greeting when he sees you after the weekend. He picks up his pace and crosses the distance to meet you where you’re fumbling with the keys to your “office”, and then he takes a few of the many equipment bags you’re attempting to juggle, saying as he does so, “You take any of those or no?”
You laugh, “Ah, no. They actually hire on a whole studio crew that does that. They’ve got lights, green screens, special camera lenses, the whole lot. The post-production on those photos is mad though.” You get the door unlocked and usher him inside, “I got to sit in on it once, and it’s crazy how much work goes into getting just a couple week’s worth of promotional content.”
He sets your bags down where you direct him to and then offers you a snarky grin, “Still probably would’ve looked cooler if you took ‘em, to be fair.”
It makes you laugh again. Jack seems to be good at that, and it feels nice to get along so well with someone you work with. You’ve found a surprising friend in him. At the end of your conversation on Friday, you’d exchanged numbers and he’d made you promise to reach out if you needed him for anything. You hadn’t, but he’d still sent you an unflatteringly angled picture of Kyle Walker from after their match against Newcastle, followed quickly with━ “use this in the next media drop thx,” and the chatter had gone from there.
You set down your own bags. “Well, thank you. Pretty sure it’s not as fun as this job, though.”
And you mean it. You’ve had opportunities to switch over to studio photography, and though you respect the people who do it and the unique challenges it poses in its own right, there’s nothing like being upfront and personal with all the action, getting to see the athletes in their element and know them on a level that goes beyond an hour or two shoot. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“Wait,” you pause, hands stopping just above where you’re ready to start sorting through your equipment, “since when did you keep up with Formula One?”
Jack shrugs. “I don’t. But you work for that team, yeah? So I figured I might as well see what they’re all about.”
“Well, if you need something to do during the summer, let me know and I’ll see what I can do,” you tell him, resuming your sorting. “They give me extra tickets for each race but they usually end up going to waste.”
You don’t bring up the falling out you had with your parents at eighteen when you told them you were going to pursue photography or the fact that you haven’t really talked to them in years because of it. You also don’t mention that due to the strenuous, near-constant traveling and the strict schedule of your job, your friendships are limited to the athletes you work with and the other McLaren staff that travel with you━ all of whom have passes of their own, for obvious reasons.
Jack, thankfully, doesn’t ask about it either. Whether he’s made his own assumptions or respects that it’s probably a sore subject, he leaves it alone and the two of you carry on in companionable silence.
You get your equipment unzipped from the bags and organized across the room per your system, guiding your temporary helper with pointed fingers to where it all should go.
The silence is only broken again when he asks you a question. “You got a favorite driver?”
It’s so out of the blue that you nearly jump, startled by the suddenness of it against the quietness of the room. But then you laugh and shake your head. “Officially no, but just between the two of us, me and Lando started at the same time so he’s got a special place in my heart. He’s also my best friend.”
Jack raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” Despite the persona he puts on, you think he secretly loves gossip. “How’d he take the news about you being with Ward, then? ‘Cause I’d have some choice things to say to any friend of mine if they got with a prick like that.”
You purse your lips, divert your gaze to avoid Jack’s eyes, and shrug, fiddling with the neck strap of your camera as you do so. “I don’t know.”
“You ‘don’t know?’”
You shrug again and feign checking over the settings as if your camera’s aperture is suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “He hasn’t been picking up my calls,” you start, “or answering my texts since the paps released the pics, so.”
When you glance back up, Jack’s making a face. “So, your best friend finds out you’re dating a total bellend, and instead of asking you about it or at the very least taking the piss, he ignores you?”
When he puts it like that, you feel a bit stupid for being more sad than you are angry.
All you can do is shrug.
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You decide that if Lando gets to be petty, then so do you.
The thing is, you’d told Lando you wouldn’t replace him with any of the guys from Manchester City, and you’d meant it━ you still mean it, despite your frustrations and annoyances with him telling you otherwise.
But if he’s going to play games, then so are you.
Technically you hadn’t started the relationship with Garrett willingly, but Lando doesn’t know that, and even if you had that doesn’t give him the right to go about ignoring you. You’ve been supportive when he’s gotten girlfriends━ you even ate greasy pizza, drank cheap wine, and cried watching The Notebook together when he ended his long-term relationship back in 2022. He could at least pretend to be supportive, or better yet he could pick up the fucking phone. 
As pathetic as it sounds, you’d let him yell at and berate you if it just meant he’d answer your calls. Because having Jack around to gossip with and shoot the shit is nice, and he really does help you not feel so alone at Etihad Campus, but Lando’s your best friend and he has been for years now. There’s nobody that understands you as well as he does, even if he is a twat half the time, and what you need now most of all is that particular Lando brand of annoying to cheer you up.
The door opens, drawing your attention from where you’re scrolling through McLaren’s newest posts. Garrett stands in the opening.
The memory of that night still lingers like a bad taste in your mouth, bitter and unpleasant. You’ve managed to avoid him for the most part in the time since then, ignoring the looks he shoots your way out on the field or in the weight room, and lucky enough that his meetings with the physio team keep him preoccupied so that he can’t seek you out in between training sessions. You’d known it was inevitable that you’d have to face him, but that doesn’t stop the dread from pooling in your stomach when you see him standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as he surveys the makeshift office you’ve done up for yourself.
“They couldn’t find you an actual office?” He comments, looking disdainfully towards your desk and the large Manchester City logo emblazoned across the front.
You shrug, wishing he’d just get to the point. “I’m only here for a few months. Doesn’t matter much to me. What do you want?”
He takes a step farther into the room and closes the door behind him, taking his sweet time to cross the distance toward the seats. When he’s finally lowered down into one, he looks up to you with a nonchalance that fills you immediately with anger.
“I’m making some amendments to our agreement,” he announces.
“Like hell you are.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Did you seriously expect people to believe we’re a couple if we never actually do anything to give off the impression of being a couple?”
You scowl. Obviously, you hadn’t expected to just skate by on the coattails of pictures from a single night. You’d known from the very beginning that you would eventually need to make another public appearance together at the very least if you wanted to keep the paparazzi fed and encourage the idea to the media that you’re in a committed relationship with one another. You’d just been hoping you would’ve had more time until then.
“I’m not an idiot, Garrett,” you grumble, crossing your arms in your seat. You had been looking through pictures from the day’s morning practice, but now you think having to look at any more of Kevin De Bruyne’s grinning face will make you lose your mind when you feel the furthest thing from happy.
“Obviously,” Garrett scoffs. “But you’re the one who said I get one kiss and nothing more. Newsflash, love━” your scowl deepens, “━couples do more than just kiss one time.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
He pulls his phone from the pocket of his joggers and swipes across the screen for a few moments of anticipatory silence. “Well,” he finally says, “it’s the sixteenth now. We haven’t got a match until the twenty-sixth. Go on a date with me this weekend.”
You can’t say no. There’s no plausible excuse for you to get out of it, and deep down you know the only way you can get rid of Garrett is to just do what he says and hope the media make their conclusions about his change quick enough that you can ditch him before the summer break.
At least during the Formula One season, you can use traveling as a reason to get out of dates. When the Champion’s League starts back up he’ll be traveling around Europe a bit more than he is now, and there’s always a chance you could be in the same country at the same time, but the likelihood of your schedules aligning is slim and that means you’ll be safe from any ventures out into public.
But for the time being, you’re stuck.
“Okay,” you reluctantly agree.
He claps his hands, a deceptively cheerful grin on his face. If you didn’t already think of him as the worst prick you’ve ever met, you might’ve found it charming. It’s the same smile he used to flash at you in your first week when he was trying to cozy up and ease his way into your good graces. The sight of it makes you sick to your stomach, now.
“Great,” he rises from his seat. “We’ll do some shopping, get some lunch━ make a full day out of it.”
At this point, you don’t care what he has planned. You just want him to leave you alone so you can try to at least pretend like you’re gonna finish the rest of the work you need to get around to.
Garrett’s made his way to the door and has his hand reaching for the handle when he turns back around and gives you a smirk. “Might wanna work on your happy face, though, love,” he comments, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head. “‘Cause if you look like that in front of the paps they definitely aren’t gonna be very convinced that you love me.”
Just to spite him, you let your scowl deepen. “I don’t need your advice. I know how to handle myself, Garrett.” You say his name like a curse━ like the very feeling of it on your tongue causes you pain.
If he notices, he doesn’t comment. His face turns thoughtful, but there’s still the smugness painted across his features that makes you so unfathomably annoyed. “You must be pretty familiar with the paps if you’re always around those drivers, yeah?” He knows the answer to his question already, so you’re not sure why he’s even asking.
He stays silent, though, like he’s genuinely expecting an answer, so you shrug your shoulders. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” he repeats back to you.
His laughter is all you hear echoing in your ears even once he’s long gone.
Until your phone starts to ring and Lando's name flashes across the screen.
━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght
━━ a/n: cliffhanger hehe~ also, i promise we're getting to ACTUAL formula one stuff soon
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gloomwitchwrites · 15 days
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I wish to see how each of the 141 boys respond to their ex, reader, calling them for emotional support bc readers newest bf was toxic af
bonus points if 141 boys are still possessive over reader, but doesn't do anything besides telling reader to leave her toxic bf. OR ORRR he's possessive bc him and reader have been together for so long, who would know how to treat her better than him? He knows every little detail she cares about, every little action that makes her fall head over heels in an instant. Her toxic bf? He doesn't care to learn about those types of things, even if reader outright says it
EVEN MORE BONUS POINTS for smut to show reader what a quick fuck of satisfaction looks like vs genuine sex / love making
Apologies, Anon. This has been sitting in my inbox for…a while, but I’ve been thinking about it off and on since you’ve sent it in.
I’ll drop some HC’s about how this would go down but I absolutely want to explore this further as part of the Imagines & What If Series.
I'll tackle these separately and make them individual one-shots (with much more detail) once I wrap up the By the Belt prompt. But for now...enjoy my HC's (if you will) on what I think would go down in this scenario.
The official masterlist for the extended fics can be found HERE.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
Content & Warnings: suggestive themes (it's vague), brief mentions of protective/possessive behavior, canon-typical swearing
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John Price
Breakup status: Strained (at first), but settled into friendship.
Absolutely hates texting, and you know if you need to reach him immediately, you have to call. Price isn’t an old man, he’s just the old man of the group, and would absolutely be tech literate but also super picky on how he communicates with people personally. It’s Price’s job to be calm, to be a leader, and pick up on things others don’t necessarily notice. So, Price would know you’re upset with your current boyfriend without you even having to spell it out. Besides, Price hates the guy, and knows he’s not worth even a lob of spit.
Plus, Price has been wanting to get back with you for ages. Now that the two of you are friends and have repaired whatever it is that separated the two of you in the first place, Price is looking to find a way to move in again, to slowly (or quickly) win you back, and now he has the opportunity.
Price insists on talking in person, and the moment the two of you are together, he makes the effort he knows you’re needing—because he wants you back, but also because he knows you better than your current boyfriend. Price doesn’t understand why you even gave the guy a chance, but he’ll do everything to get you back.
He would start with subtle indications eventually moving the conversation into past memories, reminiscing on happier times when you were his woman, and how that felt. It slowly devolves until you’re admitting first that you still miss him, and Price goes in for the kill, stating clearly that he still has feelings for you.
The final act is passionate, rough, and intense. Like an atom splitting, it is explosive.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Breakup status: mutual (away all the time; hard to make it work)
When you call, on the verge of tears, needing to talk to someone, Gaz immediately knows something is wrong the moment he picks up. (Sorta like Price but more attuned emotionally to the situation).
I can see Gaz not being a fan of chatting for long periods on the phone, so you don’t even need to ask, Gaz will drop everything and come to you without you having to suggest it. In fact, Gaz picks up, realizes your upset, and immediately says he’s coming over.
When he arrives, it’s like the two of you have never been apart. It’s almost routine, completely natural the way the two of you come together. Gaz is very much about physical affection. He’s constantly touching you, comforting you, and saying sweet things that always make you melt.
Totally knows you need a distraction, and while you’re upset, you’re having a difficult time expressing yourself. When this happens, Gaz just shuts it down, guiding you toward distraction to help you calm down and ease your mind before probing to see if you want to return to the topic.
Once that happens, game over for boyfriend. He’s lost you to Gaz.
The reunification is absolutely passionate and soft. I will die on that hill.
John “Soap” MacTavish
Breakup status: Messy. (You cannot tell me Soap isn’t a hot mess. Our boy is a little too high energy at times.)
While the breakup between the two of you is messy, Soap has always been a “safe” person for you. So, when you call him to vent, you don’t realize that Soap immediately starts heading in your direction until he knocks on your door and the two of you stand there staring at each other, phones held up to your ears. It’s an impulsive decision on his end to come to you, but you don’t turn him away.
Like Simon, Soap would be forward in the way he addresses your concern and the issues—which is your shitty boyfriend who deserves to only be known as your ex. However, where Simon is more of a blunt “these are the facts” kind of communicator, Soap will go for the jugular, using harsher language about this “boyfriend.” He won’t be critical of you, but he will be overly critical of him, listing all the ways this idiot doesn’t deserve you. He might even grow a bit heated in tone and pitch, becoming creative with his slang, and his accent might thicken slightly especially if he’s going off.
But ultimately, Soap is defending you, and reiterates the need for you to stand up for yourself and get rid of this loser.
I don’t think anything passionate would happen in that moment. But I could also see Soap in the middle of him criticizing your toxic boyfriend, you shutting him up with a kiss. Now…that could easily go sideways with someone like Soap. He’s very much impulsive at times, and I think that would win out. Soap would totally kiss you back and not allow you to pull away from him again until you’re…satisfied.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Breakup status: Tumultuous, eventually mellowing to mutual understanding afterward.
Would listen to you rant without interrupting. He would not ask any clarifying or follow up questions.
When you have it all out of your system, his response is simple: break up with him. Simon is direct—could even say blunt depending on the situation, and he would absolutely be that way in this scenario.
He makes it clear that you’re obviously not happy and that the relationship is making you miserable. He might even lay it out plainly, stating only the facts, sliding into that mindset when he’s in the field, thinking about all scenarios and problem-solving while doing so.
Internally, he’s absolutely ecstatic that your current boyfriend is a garbage heap of a human being. He will see this as an opportunity to slip right back into your life if he plays this right. Sure, the two of you aren’t together anymore, but he’s not over it. Simon is possessive and territorial to the core. Totally still considers you his.
Will absolutely make up a reason to come over, and it will likely fall under the “I’m looking out for you” or “trying to protect you from him” insisting that your boyfriend could escalate and he won’t allow you to potentially be in harm’s way.
When he arrives, Simon immediately turns soft and attentive in just the way you like. He gives you his full attention, doesn’t lecture, and offers plenty of physical touch.
The physical touches turn…well, I’ll save that for the full fic. But it is a reminder of how you’ve always been his and you just need to realize it.
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei
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wrenreid · 1 year
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Hands-on Learning
synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)
word count: 4k
content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration
Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.
And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.
Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.
I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.
Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)
We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.
Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.
My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.
Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.
I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.
"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."
I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.
However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.
"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.
"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.
The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.
It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.
"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.
He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.
I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.
I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.
And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.
——
"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.
"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.
"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.
He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.
"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.
I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."
"Y/n," he warns.
"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.
He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.
"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.
He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"
"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"
"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."
"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.
Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."
The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.
After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.
That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.
Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.
"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.
"Sure am, doc."
The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.
——
"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.
"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.
"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.
The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.
The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.
"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.
He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."
I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.
"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."
His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."
"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."
"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.
I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.
"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.
"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.
"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.
"Bar. To drink and play games."
"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.
Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.
"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."
He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."
"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.
——
“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.
He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.
"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.
"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."
"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.
"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.
"No," I answer.
That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.
I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.
After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.
"What's up?" I ask.
"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.
I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."
Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.
"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.
I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.
"Hm?"
"Why'd we leave so early?"
"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.
"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.
"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.
My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.
"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.
He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.
"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.
His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline.  "I thought you were heartless."
"I take back my previous statement."
"I missed you too," Spencer says.
"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.
The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.
"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"
"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.
——
"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.
I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.
"Hit me," I say.
He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."
"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.
"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."
A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"
"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.
"Have you never...?"
Spencer shakes his head.
I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.
"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"
"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."
"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.
"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.
"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."
"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.
"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.
He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.
"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.
"Would you?"
I nod slowly, hesitantly.
He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.
"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.
Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.
He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.
My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.
He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"
I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.
"Say it."
"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.
I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.
"Keep doing that," I whine softly.
He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.
"Mhm," I noise.
I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.
A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.
"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.
"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"
I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."
Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”
"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.
"You included?"
"Me included."
"What do you like?" He asks.
"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"
Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."
I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."
"Head. Noted," he nods.
He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.
"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.
He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.
Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.
His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.
I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.
“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.
Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.
Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.
The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.
I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.
“Do you like this?”
I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”
He does as he’s told.
When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.
"Just like that, Spencer. So good."
A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.
My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.
"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.
"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"
He shakes his head.
"Wow."
"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.
"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."
I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.
I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.
I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.
He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.
"Just a gentlemen," I grin.
I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.
"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.
"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.
"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."
I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.
Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.
"Wha-?"
"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."
"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.
He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.
I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.
Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.
We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.
"Who's?"
"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."
"What?" I chuckle, confused.
"There's no date,” he says, point blank.
"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.
He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.
Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.
tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
Note
cbf!Price?!?!
You mean your older brother's even older friend?
You'd been born in the US to an American mom and a British dad; but his job moved you all back across the pond. New country, new school, new people--it had been hell for you and your brother. But the family next door were so welcoming, especially their only kid, John.
Who always called you 'sunshine', gave you piggyback rides at rugby matches so you didn't get lost in the crowd, and never said "Hello" but, "There's my favorite girl".
The same cbf!Price who was your scary dog privilege when you fell in love with the underground punk scene and wanted to go to the sketchiest concerts.
When he'd enlisted, you'd cried for days, but couldn't bring yourself to tell him why you were so heartbroken, no matter how many times he asked, brows furrowed with concern. "Its only a couple months, luv, then I'll be on post just down the road. We'll still have our weekends."
And he kept that promise, as much as he could, even after you moved out of your parent's home to attend university.
It was forever on the tip of your tongue; the words you so desperately wanted to say, had to bite back, otherwise they'd destroy that precious friendship....
.... I can only imagine the myriad of unfortunate ways he might accidentally hear you whispering his name and those words....
with my brash personality, im fucking him the day he's to leave for basic. js.
no regrets around here.
--
ohmygod! imagine him being captain now, and he brings you to meet the boys.
Johnny whistles low the moment he lays eyes on you. "Steamin' Jesus, Captain. Tha' yer friend? She single?"
John does not answer him.
Kyle is kind, sweet, and courteous. Suspiciously so. It gives John flashbacks of how he acts towards women he wants to bed.
Right.
Simon's just his big, quiet self. He's intimidating, but you're not afraid—after all, you grew up with your bully older brother and John.
John notices his eyes gleam when you talk at him, yes, at, because Simon doesn't respond. But he listens. And he's been listening a little too intently, staring at your dainty hands gesture animatedly.
That's enough, he thinks.
"Time t'go home, love." You pout but wave goodbye at the boys and head towards his vehicle.
Johnny opens his mouth to speak but John quickly intervenes, that unless he wants to start fucking pushing, keep his thoughts to himself.
"I'll see you all at base tomorrow."
On the ride home, you tell him that they were all very nice. John's grip on the steering wheel tightens and says that as nice as they are, they go through women more than they do magazines.
"Oh." Did he imagine the disappointment laced in your voice?
"Do you?" What?
"I don't do it often."
"Oh." He turns his head to look at you, but you're staring out the window.
His heart races and elation thrums through his veins. You definitely sounded upset. John looks straight ahead and speeds up to take you home.
His home.
There's only you for him, and if you won't take the first step, then he will.
--
side note: what if he didn't return those feelings? christ id eat my fucking phone. im running away!!! no one look at me how embarrassing!!! his eyes soften, and he's like, "Oh. I'm so sorry, love. You and I practically grew up together."
That really stings. And then he brings his little girlfriend over to meet you and your brother, and you stiffly shake her hand and go to your room to cry.
Someone softly knocks on your door, and you don't move to open it, just yell at whoever is at the door to fuck off in a warbly voice. John's muffled I'm sorry deepens the crack in your heart.
"'S'alright, John. I'll be okay."
You did this to yourself, anyway.
The marriage invitation comes in the mail and you tear it to pieces.
Since you were young, you dreamt of being Mrs. Price, but now, that's all it'll ever be.
A childish dream.
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xo-cod · 4 months
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Brain blast! I got an idea!
Hyperfem! Reader was apart of the BAU until she decided to leave (the reason could be prime angst material) and be assigned to TF141.
But even though she left her old job, that didn’t mean she forgot about it or the people that she and her old BAU team helped throughout the years.
Along with her adorable little nick-knacks, she keeps a pin board containing the photo of almost every person that she had helped back at the FBI, a reminder to herself about why she does what she does.
There can even be a wedding or graduation invite or two added to the pinboard, given to her from the people she helped.
How would the TF141 guys react to her pinboard along with her reason for why she has it?
nonnie this is so so cute :") <33 this probably wasn't what you wanted but i hope you liked it 🤍 rushed and ooc ‼️
fbi reader getting assigned to tf141 after getting a request by the state department and the section chief of the bau sending you to the 141 for a few weeks since they had been in desperate need of a tech analyst/profiler (highly inaccurate but its too late here lmfao)
but even though you had joined their team, your old one had never left your heart. and the 141 seeing the montage of photos you had around your work spaces, the framed selfies you kept on your desk, the scribbles of letters written by your close friends at the bau held dearly to your heart, the goofy nicknames, the laughing phone calls, i think it would shock them more than anything.
price, simon, kyle and johnny each chose the job that was handed to them with minimal complaints. some wanted to fight for their country proudly, others didn't get a say and was sort of thrusted into the world of war without a second thought. and sure, they were all close to one another. they had to be, they saw the worst of humanity just like you but they had no one to rely back on having spent the better parts of their youth in this world. their families were away, they only had each other to rely on
but you had this whole different life before them. even seeing the worst of pains, the worst of humans, you had this light about you that couldn't be diminished. all these friendships you made along the way, the ones you cherished closely to your heart, it made them see you in a different way. you weren't just a mindless soldier, working yourself to the bone.
seeing that part of you, getting to experience that side of you was something they were all scared and grateful for. this job they all did had the tendency to grab anything happy and shatter it into a million pieces, burying it six feet under to be never seen again. but you weathered the storms with ease, you picked yourself back up again when the job kicked you low, you were you.
seeing the friends you made back in the bau, i think would trigger slight jealousy and envy in all of them. jealousy for they could never be the ones to bring that smile to your face, they could never mimic the same set up you had back there. and envy because they could never be the ones you held close to, they could never be the ones you cared most about.
you had a life separate from them, a beautiful life that couldn't be compared
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Drinks pt. 1: Kyle Gaz Garrick x android!reader
You had resigned yourself to your office since the incident. You had been nonstop reviewing the intel and data you had received for the piece of it that caused your the error so you could delete it before it messed up any more of your plans.
A couple days had passed and they went by in the routine you had observed. The 141 avoided you unless they needed you and kept any interactions at a professional level.
When you had finally found the piece of data and erased it, Gaz had already recovered.
You downloaded the recent data you had received into your processors and prepared to analyze them when there was a knock at your door. You unplugged yourself from the computer and called out to whoever it was.
"Sergeant Garrick." You nodded when he stepped in and he gave you a quick smile that you didn't return.
"Heard you've been working hard." He said and you nodded again. "Hope you don't feel too guilty about what happened."
"I want to fix my mistake so it doesn't happen in the future."
"You can't plan for everything, not in this line of work."
You titled your head. You wanted to argue that you could since that was what you were made for. It was your only purpose and before the incident, you had never failed. However, you understood that arguing about it could cause your true nature to be revealed, so instead you agreed.
"Just don't burn yourself out, yeah?" He offered you a smile that slowly fell when you didn't offer one back.
"Was there something you needed, Sergeant?" You asked, unsure of why he decided to visit you.
It was out of routine, out of pattern, especially because up until this point he hadn't exactly acted anything more than cordial with you. You had endless data and in it was everything about the 141, so you knew that Gaz tended to be on the friendlier side, however this different than the relationship that had been created between you both.
"Yeah, actually," he began and shifted on his feet. "I know you've declined before but I think you should join us for drinks."
"Why?" You blinked and he shrugged.
"You're part of the team and you've been working hard. I know you're just here to do your job but I think it'd be great if we got along."
You blinked. You hadn't thought about whether or not bonding with the team would make it easier to work than before. Not that you had much trouble with the job you were given, but it was different for humans, especially the 141.
The patterns you had recognized and from their backgrounds they all valued friendships and relationships in some capacity, something you had no capacity for.
"I see. If you think strengthening our relationship will increase work productivity then I will join you for drinks." You told him and his eyes widened.
"Really?" He scoffed when you nodded but a smile pulled at his lips. "I told Soap the puppy dog eyes would work."
You didn't say anything as he awkwardly chuckled to himself.
"We're going to a pub. Nothing posh." He explained and you noted the information. "We can walk together."
"Okay."
You didn't know what else to say and Gaz must've taken that as anxiety as he gave you a reassuring look.
"Don't worry, I doubt there will be a lot of people there." He said and you wondered if that would be comforting to you if you were human. "Worse comes to worse I can do the talking, yeah?"
"Yes."
Gaz stood in front of you for a moment as if he expected you to say something else. When you didn't, he nodded slowly and gave you an awkward smile before opened the door.
"See you tonight then."
"Yes...see you tonight."
Silence filled the room and you stared at the door.
You were not equipped for going out to drinks. You were only programmed to look at data and provide the best numbers, not socialize and make bonds with others. Judging by the way Gaz had acted in your silence, and from the other times you remembered how the other reacted, you would create unwanted tension that would potentially ruin the bonding experience.
The people who made you didn't except you to agree to something like this, so it wasn't in your programming.
You turned to the computer that sat on your desk.
What was in your programming was to take in information. You were every much machine and computer as the laptop was so if you downloaded the right information you could look it up whenever.
It was against the your coding. You were meant for data analysis only.
But if you stored the information about what to do when going to pubs and how to act in the setting separately to your data then perhaps you could get away with it once. For the betterment of the team.
You began to type of your computer and plugged yourself in.
A/n: does this make sense? idk i've never really written an android character before lol
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froot-batty · 6 months
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FINALLY.
lore under the cut! (warning it's uh. it's long)
Because the two of them are very closely entwined, I'll write their backstories as one big thing instead of individually
Bruce Wayne had the life every kid dreamed about. The child of two successful, wealthy, loving parents, his own staff, and the ability to go wherever or do whatever he wanted in the city. Well, with parental supervision, of course. Thomas and Martha, though they believed in Gotham and saw the good in it, also tended to shelter Bruce a bit, just to keep him away from the dangerous parts. Unfortunately this backfired, making young Bruce only want to go into the city alone even more.
Harvey Dent was the polar opposite of Bruce. He grew up in the worst part of the Narrows, with a single immigrant mother who was constantly taken advantage of by their landlord or her various bosses. While she loved him dearly, she couldn't be there all of the time for him (due to her needing to work multiple jobs) or protect him from the horrors going on outside their door. He bore witness to a great deal of traumatic things, and eventually took to leaving his house when his mother wasn't home in order to get a reprieve.
Bruce and Harvey first met when they were very young children, as Harvey was wandering the streets near his home and Bruce had escaped to go and explore the Narrows. They clicked almost instantly; despite the differences in the way they grew up, they both shared the dream that Gotham was, at it's core, a good place (or could be a good place). Harvey eventually introduced his childhood friend (and neighbor) Selina Kyle to Bruce, and they became a tight trio for many years.
Bruce's parents died when he was 11. His grief made his ventures out to the Narrows lessen, but Harvey and Selina would often make trips to Bruce's house to make sure he was okay.
Harvey's mother died when he was 15. She had been sick for years now, and the constant stress of having to work multiple jobs eventually got to her. He appeared to cope with it easily enough, but on the inside, his anger towards the perceived injustice she received would never really fade.
Even as they grew older, and neared adulthood, Bruce's and Harvey's friendship seemed as strong as one could be. At least, that's what Harvey thought, until the moment Bruce completely vanished from Gotham altogether. Bruce's disappearance made Harvey and Selina drift apart, so Harvey in turn poured himself into his studies at college. It would be 15 years until Harvey saw Bruce again, and though part of him wanted to be angry, he was just desperately happy to see his best friend again.
Harvey by then was well into his career as District Attorney, and had aspirations of running for mayor in the upcoming election. Bruce was the one who eventually encouraged him to do it, promising funds and all the help Harvey could need to run his campaign. There was another person planning on running for mayor in the election, one Oswald Cobblepot, but neither of them worried too much about him, at the start.
By this time Bruce had reconnected with Selina as well. Harvey and Selina never could get as close as they were in their childhood, so her instant connection with Bruce began to make Harvey a little worried. A little jealous. He didn't want to lose his best friend again, even if it was to someone who was supposed to also be his friend. Harvey acting weird began to drive Bruce away a little bit, which only pushed him further to Selina, creating a vicious cycle between the two of them.
Well into the swing of the mayoral campaign, Harvey began to...lose it a little bit. He had begun recieving open threats on his life (from Oswald, but he didn't know that at the time, and began to think people were conspiring against him), and his paranoia over that along with everything going on with Bruce and Selina made things up top get worse. By now he was fully distancing himself from his two friends, and started to wonder if they were plotting against him.
Everything came to a head when Harvey was due to make a speech at Wayne Manor. It was only a night or two until the results of the election would be announced, and Bruce had thrown a party in honor of Harvey's campaign (and in the hopes it'd cheer him up). Harvey initially didn't want to do a speech, but Bruce encouraged it, and the District Attorney took the stage.
Unbeknownst to him, Oswald had planned to send Dent a final message - one that would take him out of the running completely.
He paid a man to dress up as a waiter and infiltrate the party. Harvey was in the middle of his speech when Penguin's man ran up to the stage and threw a glass full of acid directly at his face.
This was Harvey's breaking point. Forced to drop out of the race and his mind in tatters, he fully believed that Bruce was in on the plot to take him out, and turned his back both to him and Selina. Where they had bonded over the idea of making Gotham better, this is where they'd fall apart; because Harvey still believes that he can improve Gotham, even if he has to burn the city to the ground to do it.
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(Both of them are Bisexual. Harvey also has OSDD-1, which I will probably explain in another post, since this one's way too long)
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bunnyreaper · 3 months
Note
YES I DO HONEY BUN!
Let's get your most crack fic takes on how Gaz reacts to seeing spicy photos of his fellow operatives (141, Los Vaqueros and beyond, up to you!)
Like setup can be whatever you want but I'm imagining a "Hey an ex is trying to blackmail me by saying they are going to send these photos to the team so may as well pre-empt it, behold!"
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you said crack fic, so I gave crack fic! admittedly not doing a good job with the prompt, but, hey ho!
your little hobby might have gotten out of hand. it started off as a silly little joke with johnny--he suggested you keep a polaroid of him on you, to really solidify your bond and friendship. 
you'd agreed, but hadn't expected him to produce the polaroid himself, and certainly not one that was just a picture of his bright smile, gorgeous torso, and admittedly delicious happy trail. it had taken you by surprise, but you felt the urge to keep your promise, and swore to yourself that one day you'd get him back with something equally as obnoxious.
from there, it had spiraled out of hand. 
simon had gotten wind of johnny's little picture, and one day approached you. you expected him to rip the two of you to pieces, but he hadn't. 
instead he slid across a polaroid of another shirtless figure, one that could be him, but with his face and tattooed arm out of frame and the alluringly lowered lighting, it's hard to tell for certain. he peered at you from behind a plain black mask as he whispered--no one will ever believe you.
price's picture had made its way into your paperwork 'accidentally'--a flattering picture of his thick, hairy stomach and broad chest, leading down to a pair of tight boxer shorts and muscular, imposing thighs. you're convinced he did it just to show them how the boys how it's done, a point of pride over his figure that is all man and not boy. all the while he maintained innocence and embarrassment at the mistake, yet he never made a move to get the photo back from your collection. 
all three photos sit in front of kyle, having spilled out from where they were hidden in the back of your phone case. he fights between confirming what he's seeing and refusing to look at all. 
different parts of him battle against each other. the first thing he felt was confusion, which quickly morphed into recognition, and then embarrassment. while the men's bodies were nothing he hadn't seen before, the polaroids all had an alluring, erotic edge to them, which brought blood rushing to his cheeks. 
it felt wrong to look, and yet he had so many questions--for them, for you.
"didn't know you were that much of a perv, love." he looks at you with a cheeky grin.
"i'm not! it's a joke, they're not for my... personal enjoyment." you scoop them back up and stuff them in your phone case, hiding them from any other prying eyes. 
"they're not?" his eyebrow arches, him clearly not believing you. "so, you just have lewds of all of our team for the laughs?" 
"something like that." you nod, desperately wishing for a change of topic, after all, it is just some overblown joke. 
a few expressions flicker across kyle's face, before he settles on a slightly wounded puppy look. "why didn't you ask me for one then?" 
"we're just friends." you explain, trying to remain straight-faced despite the emotion bubbling up inside you. 
there's a very fucking good reason you never broached the subject with kyle, and went out of your way to even hide it from him. because you knew that one look at a lewd picture of kyle would be the death of normalcy in your friendship. 
"and you're not friends with the rest of the 141?" his face shifts from wounded puppy to confused puppy, head tilted and everything.
"i am, but it's not like i want to be more than friends with them--" you rush to explain, but let out just a touch too much, revealing your long-standing crush on the man sitting across from youm "i mean..." 
"didn't know you felt the same way, love." he smiles, genuinely elated rather than smug. it's clear not just from his words, but from his tone and the look in his eyes that he feels just the same way you do--enamoured." 
you can't help but beam back, equal parts nervous and excited. "not how i planned on telling you, but yeah. with them it's just silly, with you it'd be... different." you feel your cheeks flush at the confession.
kyle leans into your space a little, and as you think he's about to take your hand, he instead takes your phone. 
he throws you a wink before he takes out the polaroids, and slips them into his pocket. "looks like I'll have to take a few pictures of my own then, replace your little collection." 
136 notes · View notes
stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
Text
A Helping Hand (18+)
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader
Warning: Smut. Fluff and smut. Shower sex, unprotected sex. Light foot injury. Use of pet name Bunny. Word count 2.8K
Summary: Kyle was the first friend you made, and still remained your closest friend to this day. You believed nothing could ever change that, no matter how many times you both found yourselves crossing barriers friends shouldn't cross. Maybe their was always something more hidden underneath the flirty jokes, especially after a single ‘incident' a week prior.
Thanks so much to @mutuallimbenclosure for helping me recover this!! As well as @glitterypirateduck 💕
And also @baufraus just cause 😅
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~~~~~~~
"How're you feeling?" Kyle asks once he enters the rec room, seeing you lounging on the old, dark brown corduroy couch, a bland navy colored book in hand.
"Bored, bored and bored." You replied, closing the book after failing to register reading a sentence of the page you've been stuck on. Nothing else was really new for the past week.
Being stuck on base for your "minor" leg injury was the most ridiculous thing you've ever had to deal with during your time in the military.
It wasn't like you couldn't walk, but you were prevented from attending missions for a reasonably fair while.
"Brought you something to cheer you up, love." He extends his hand, offering you small wrapped bundles of pineapple candy.
"What kind is it?'
"Same flavor of sweet I offered you the first week you arrived here. Remember?"
Of course you remembered the first day you arrived, especially recalling the kindness Kyle Garrick offered you to feel comfortable in your new setting. That very day you learned that pineapple was his favorite flavor of candy, to which you made it a priority on a good behalf to always share that flavor with him when you had access.
"Aww, thanks." You smiled, moving aside to give him some space to sit. Taking a candy for yourself, you tossed your book to the table ahead of you, lounging back onto the couch, being mindful of your wounded leg as he stepped by.
You've been tackling that novel for three hours now, not that big of a story." He sat back on the couch, resting his arm back over the top of the cushions behind your shoulders. "Must be very interesting, yeah?"
"It's dreadful," you sigh, popping the candy into your mouth. Despite the captain's orders, as much as it warmed your heart that Price cared, you downright found it annoying just how much he did, preventing you from going out and doing what you actually signed up for.
"Oh believe me, must be tough going from a bloody fine sniper to simple couch bunny." Kyle commented, gazing on ahead after using his teeth to yank the candy from the wrapper into his mouth, chewing down after a few seconds.
Smiling at his comment, you get a little more comfortable, sinking further back against the cushions, aware of his sleeved forearm slowly settling along the back of your neck.
"Couch bunny? What happened to potato, huh?"
"Eh," he shrugged, "You don't look worthy of being called a spud. Too simple."
"Too simple??" You huffed in utter amusement. "You could do a million things with a potato."
"Yeah," Kyle smirked. "But they aren't as cute as you are Just trving to be honest here."
What a flirt he was.
"Calling me a bunny is just ironic, telling how I'm supposedly too injured to run out into the field." You rolled your eyes, chastising again at the fact that a sprained ankle was considered more than enough to hold you back from doing your job.
"Whatever you say, bunny." Gaz snarkly mutters, growing amused at your annoyance.
Instead of irritated by any means, you could only get yourself to smile bigger at his relentless teasing.
Is he in love with me?
You can't help but question this silly, innocent little thought you had. A quiet one, one he didn't need to know of just yet.
Despite the countless times the both of you shared throughout your friendship, via amused, not-so-subtle glances and snarky jokes tilting on the border of friendly and flirtatious, ranging from silly at first towards downright mischievous.
The stares drew a little longer, the accidental touches roamed a second further, the brush of his hand along the back of your shoulder now left your skin tingling.
His new pet name for you did much more than make you blush, but thinking things such as these...
Not to mention what had happened in the armory between you both merely a week ago.
You would've brushed it off as merely all in your imagination, purely out of boredom, but it even occurred when you weren't injured, long before that even, when it was just the both of you in the privacy of your friendship. The word alone being the most polite one you could think of to describe whatever occurred between you both.
Not only that, Kyle played along so willingly, no risky comment bothering him in the slightest, yet always remaining so respectful on your behalf making you wonder if it truly was all in your head.
"Why're you being sweet on me lately, Kyle?" You curiously question, watching a small smile stretch across his face as he peered at you.
"Because you're my fellow comrade, fellow Sargeant, an' my friend. There's no harm in helping you out when you're hurt."
You giggled again, finding your cheeks tingle with a comforting warmth.
"Keep talking like that, my heart's gonna melt."
"As long as it's in my hands, believe you'll be alright."
You meet his gaze, utter surprise stretched across your features. As quickly as so, your brows softened the longer you looked into his eyes, adoring the beauty of their rich, natural brown color, marveling in the lost message he shared to you without saying a word of it.
He is in love with me.
You proceed to sit up, making Kyle's brows raise in surprise, concerned that his comment may have taken things a little too far. "You alright?"
"Yeah," you nod, wincing slightly as you move your leg. "Yeah, just need to get out of this room already."
"Need to be carried somewhere, bunny?" He questioned with a hint of a tease, watching you immediately look back to him, an unsuspecting glimmer in your eyes.
All the plethora of not so innocent teasing, the brush of his hands along your hips as he helped you to your room, your hands lingering too long along his broad chest and biceps, led up to you gently being supported against your bathroom door the second it shut behind you, looking Kyle in the eye as he supported you in his arms, becoming the wall of security you needed.
He admired your body as he helped you wash it, His eyes following the curve of your natural physique; your arms, your plump hips, the curves of your ass. He truly believed he could spend hours in this tiny shower just taking you all in, if it weren't for the battle of arousal the two of you were quickly losing.
You found Kyle still, somehow, managing to be a gentleman, helping you wash along your chest, sudsy calloused fingers halting before the valley of your breasts. He would keep mindful while roaming along your waist, though his eyes weren't so hidden in their longing glare, convincing his hands to settle along your hips, encouraging you to press yourself against the Sergeant.
He hesitated for a moment before hooking his arms under your knees, lifting you effortlessly into his arms.
He carefully balanced you, leaning you back slightly against the tiled wall for leverage.
You let your hand explore his chest, stroking the muscles that decorated his chest. Broad, toned and well sculpted like a greek god, glistening with warm water and residual steam.
You feel his abs brush against your stomach, your hands taking in every curve of muscle along his back, feeling yourself tingle in delight from running your fingertips along his exposed, hot skin.
Your mouths were merely inches away from each other by now, a loving warmth flushing your cheeks, sprinkling heat against his face in utter excitement and nerve wracking love budding like a rose between you both.
"You could have just told me if you wanted to take a shower with me, Kyle. You teased softly, watching him smile and keep his gaze on you alone.
"Trust me, this doesn't even scratch the list of things I wished to do with you, love." Your lips hovered just slightly over his as you spoke. You waited to hear him suck in a sharp breath as you finally kissed him, reveling in adoration from the familiarity of his lips from last time.
His cock, throbbing impatiently against your thigh, was difficult to wrap your hand around, you noted as your fingers dipped lower passed the V-Line of his pelvis.
Brushing against the flushed, weeping tip with your thumb, your fingers curling against the almost velvet-like skin, reveling in the obvious fact that he was hard.
Really hard.
"Christ's sake." He murmured, kissing down the side of your cheek softly as his arms resecured their hold on you. The underside of his cock stroked deliciously through your folds, rubbing directly against your clit once he guided you properly against him, creating an uneven, eager dance between you both, fueling the urge you so desperately wanted to satisfy.
You kept your arms secured tight around him whilst moaning your sighs of delight in his ear, the man refusing to even allow the soles of your quivering feet to touch the tile ground.
"Fuck, You like that, yeah?" His lips stuck to your neck, sucking marbled bruises into your skin. What do you want from me? Want me to take what's mine, love?"
Saying this, he bucked himself hard against your core, restraining a grunt against your skin as you whined.
You cling to the back of his head, tangling your fingers through his coarse, wet hair.
"All you gotta do is ask." He states before waiting for your answer, providing gentle reassurance, proving he wouldn't once judge you for saying otherwise.
"Please, You exhale breathlessly in between hushed breaths of air.
His hands slipped lower, squeezing handfuls of your ass in his palms.
"Please What?" He carefully asks.
"Please Kyle," you look at him with the sweetest of pleading eyes, speaking his name like the richest of honeys dripping from your tongue. "I need you."
You sounded absolutely gorgeous, his heart aching his chest with every beat, still in awe that this was happening.
"Are you sure?" He asked with caution in breaking this daydream as his forehead pressed to yours, water dripping off his chin down to your chest as you cradled his face in your palms.
"Kyle, please. I need you.”
You needed him. He couldn't count how many times he imagined you saying such simple words in his head, genuine with their grand meaning.
At this point, you weren't sure if Kyle was playing dumb on purpose just to get a rise out of you, or if he was relying on that genuine reassurance as the final push.
He gave a soft grin, stealing your lips in yet another sweet, passionate kiss while guiding the tip of his cock against your slit, having you both wince at the contact.
Your walls were soft, hot and slick from pure arousal and utter need, encouraging him to slip inside with such ease.
Severe chills shot down your spine, despite the temperature of the shower remaining the usual lukewarm. Your mouth remained open as you tilt your head back, forcing yourself to relax as he willfully slips inside.
He resecured his hold on you while his cock stretched you open, encouraging your walls to invite him in until he slowly, but almost bottomed out inside, remaining as still as he could, battling against his own patience to fuck you agsinst the tile walls until each piece shattered.
You rolled your hips the best you could in this position with a needy little whine. You drew his earlobe into your mouth, suckiling softly there before whispering for him to not hold back, to fuck you like he always wanted.
To take those fantasies of him claiming you in the unlikeliest of places, to pretend it was the two of you alone in the privacy of a hushed corner in the armory, to imagine that the simple, innocent kiss you both shared there continued further than that, revealing to him how you wished he fucked your sanity out against the very table you had leaned against, recalling how he cradled your chin with such a featherlight, caring touch before squeezing your throat as your nails scratched down his back, raw lust threatening to cloud your heads both then and there.
"Please." Came your soft, guttural plea. The cherry on top of the filthy, sugary sundae.
There was something about your tone of voice, or maybe it was just feeling your warmth throb around him that made him buck his hips into you with a low groan before proceeding at a frantic pace, the fat beads of water clinging to your skin bursting upon impact as skin hit harsh against skin, nails digging through muscle as your cries drew even louder.
You squealed in response, digging your nails into his back as your head settled back against the wall. It didn't take long for both of you to fall into a steamy, eager rhythm, the air between you quickly being filled with soft little pants and moans, greatly mixed with sharp, nasally grunts and muffled moans against your neck. You pressed your face against his shoulder in a vain attempt to quiet yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist to hold him as close as possible, feeling your own release approach quicker than you would've wanted.
You raked your nails down his back as his thrusts began to slow, making up for the pace via bucking into you harder, hearing the hitch in your whines as his cock hit against your 9-spot, quickly adjusting his grip on your hips so you wouldn't slip.
"That feel good, love?" He purrs against your neck, feeling you frantically nod.
"Yeah-fuck. Please, don't stop." You reply through quick speech slurred in between multiple whines, scratching down his back as he thrusted repeatedly inside you.
"God, you feel-" his deep tone cuts off with a sharp, throaty groan, "-So fucking good."
He grunts against your neck, his nails digging into your hips as he bucks deeper into you, encouraging you to break through your self inflicted chains of restraint to moan louder.
"Christ, once you're better, you're gonna be bouncing in my lap like a true little bunny, y hear me?" He grunts low in your ear while guiding your hips along, feeling you clench with his words. "You're gonna take my cock real nice and deep, like a good girl, an' you're not stoppin' till you're well fucked an' full."
Never in your life would you have expected such unique speech from a soft speaking, well-mannered man, but you absolutely adored it. Everyone had a different, hidden side to them, one that he gladly revealed now, one you'd revel in and sink your claws into for as long as possible.
Your fingers find hold of his dog tag chain, drops of water rippling off the steel as you give a light tug. This alluded him into kissing you once more, tasting the remnants of sweet pineapple on his tongue.
"You gonna do that for me?" His hand reaches up to hold your face, guiding you to look him in the eye via caressing your cheek, leaving you to admire his handsome face contorted in pleasure, dripping with residual water.
"You gonna become my little fuck bunny, love? My little doe-eyed sweetheart? Fuck- you gonna take my cum like a good girl, yeah?"
Frantically, you nod to every single word, your end teaching you faster with the mix of his words and change of pace.
To guide you further, his hand went lower once abandoning your cheek, giving your breast a delightful squeeze.
To guide you further, his hand went lower once abandoning your cheek, giving your breast a delightful squeeze before pressing his thumb against your clit, rubbing light circles to feel your hips buck against his.
It didn't matter if this went too fast, you both had each other now. The time for longer sessions would come later, but for now, Kyle had to see you come. He had to see how your brow furrowed as your orgasm rattled your body, to feel your back arch against his palm, to experience the impossible squeeze of your cunt gripping him for dear life, providing him a sensation he'd work tirelessly to feel again and again.
Seeing you now, your furrowed brow releasing as your lips parted to exhale the most beautiful cries he's ever witnessed, made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.
"Oh-Goddamnnit. Shit." Kyle grunted lowly, his voice cracking towards the end of his tone from the feeling of your walls squeezing his throbbing cock, groaning the moment rich spurts of his hot, white cum splattered across the insides of your soft, gushy pussy.
His head settled against yours, groaning richly through his nose as his orgasm washed over his shoulders, clutching you close as you rode through yours, clinging to him for that security you craved.
Not once did he drop you, or show any signs of loosening his grip. Even in the love sick, honey sweet haze that fogged both your minds, he was sane enough to not set you down, not wishing to risk harm to your injury any further.
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manicrouge · 2 months
Text
Now That We Don't Talk
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[ᴋʏʟᴇ ɢᴀʀʀɪᴄᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 07/02/24
[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After losing a close friendship due to no fault of your own, Kyle attempts to make you feel better with a heart to heart.
[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 2,226
[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort (sorta??????)
[ᴀ/ɴ]: The song by Taylor has me in a chokehold atm... was thinking about doing an All Too Well story with Price too, does anyone have any strong opinions on that??? Cause I feel like it would be quite a fun (and terribly heartbreaking) one to write.
THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot). I also want all of my work together on one account to avoid confusion !!
ANYWAY, ENJOY MLS!!
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It’s for the best. 
Even if it still doesn't seem like it, you fight all the thoughts in your head and try your hardest to persuade yourself that it is for the best. But on the inside, it's killing you.
It’s strange to see someone who you had spent so much time with changing overnight, but it was part of growing up you suppose. There was no way you could have maintained closeness with someone who had treated you so poorly, especially when it came to your job and what you were doing.
Kyle has told you time and time again to not stress about it.
'Everything has to end someday, sweetheart, and by holding onto it, you're just making everything hurt you more than it has to.'
The sergeant is smart, has a particular empathy that you found yourself fond of. Besides, you have a new life now, away from them, one that was filled with action, friendship and excitement. 
But it doesn't stop you walking around the base like a zombie. 
Replies from you are scarce, you're aware of that, but there doesn't seem like you can really do anything else. You hardly open you mouth anymore, simply spending all you time sitting alone with your thoughts.
Perhaps you can do something different to make things better, but contact had been patchy, you haven't been home half as much as you had been prior to being recruited into 141, and the days all seem to mould into one. In the blink of an eye, a month was gone, but when you reflect on it, it feels closer to the passing of two days more than a month.
Being busy constantly would do that, you found. There’s always something to do when you’re out on an op, whether big or small, all of it contributes towards the grander course.
While tiring and straining on relationships, you find you wouldn’t change it for the world and perhaps that was the issue. But you don’t know what you’re supposed to do, of course you love your best friend, they had been there for all the highs and lows in your life, but them acting as though you were purposefully avoiding them was the stupidest thing you have ever heard in your life. 
‘You keep thinkin’ about it, you’re gonna turn your hair grey,’ Kyle states with a disapproving look written on his face. Looking up from your bed, you look in the doorway, spotting the man leaning against the doorframe. ‘You’ve been moping around the base all week, love. Miserable sight to see, really, it is,’ he confesses, closing your door as he approaches you. Pulling a chair from under your desk, he moves it to face your bed, taking a seat.
His disappointment causes your stomach to twitch and you gulp at the thought of upsetting your boyfriend.
‘Talk to me,’ he says.
‘Got nothing to say,’ you mumble, ‘I lost a friend I always thought I would have and there’s nothing I can do about it because they’re not hearing me out at all,’ you say, 'I messed up big time.'
Your heart hurts when you see his brow furrow while listening to you rambling on about the situation he was full aware of. You have no idea why you’re even bothering to talk to him about it; he knew all the details from the times he's tried to get you to talk to him, but still, he doesn't tire of your complaints. Instead, he simply sits with you and listens. Surely he's tiring of hearing the same things over and over again, there is no way one man can be so patient.
Talking to Kyle is like being on a mission. It treacherous, the war zone in your mind escapes from your mind, spraying from your mouth like bullets, but he sits there and he listens to you like it’s his first time hearing any of the things you’re saying. Minutes meld into one another, linked together with chains of events you express, scrutinising over the smallest details as you tell him the entire story of your friendship. By now, you’re convinced that if the story were to be in a physical form, its pages would be well aged, crinkled and ripped at the edges from the amount of times you had turned the pages. The book could be ash and you would still write words in the ash in hopes to recollect on the good times in hopes to soothe the boiling anger in the pit of your stomach.
But it’s over, they told you they want nothing to do with you, and you’re still trying to think of some way to solve the problem. 
‘You’re trying to solve a problem you never caused, love,’ Kyle says softly, reaching his hand out, placing it on your knee. ‘Of course, this job comes with sacrifice, but you can hardly be blamed for focusing on work,' he says. ‘They have an issue with you spending your time wisely, and I know whenever you had a chance to call home, the first number you would put in the phone would be theirs, right?’ he asks, ‘before anyone else, you called them and you talked to them as long as you could. But at some point, you’ve gotta realise why you even picked up the phone and dialled their number in the first place,’ he says. 
You look at him with bleary eyes, hugging your knees closer to your chest.
Why were they aways the first one you called? Was it from obligation or was there something else?
‘Back in Amsterdam,’ he begins, ‘you got a phone call from them during downtime, and when you picked the phone up all they did was shout at you,’ he says, ‘I don’t know all of it, but I know enough to know that they were upset at you for calling you mum before you called them,’ he scoffs, 'that's not friendship in the slightest; a friend would be happy to even know that you were safe, but they're so full of their own self importance that they don't understand that what they're doing is ruining you.'
Your eyes grow wide at his words and he quickly shuts his mouth realising what he has done. Never had you heard him carry such a tone when addressing someone from your private life. Hes always been the caring type, the one who treads lightly in the hopes of not upsetting you. But his temper has broken free and he simply sits and stares at you, taking a deep breath.
'I know you care about them, love, trust me, I can see from the way you're beating yourself up over everything that's happened, but I can't just sit here and tell you that they're a good friend,' he admits, pulling his hand from off of your knee. 'Your friendship was always on their terms, even before you were in 141, and the stories you've told me about them always include you doing something for them.'
'I've known them for so long,' you whisper, 'even though I'm not home, I just can't imagine life without them in it, you know?' you weakly ask, 'I know it's stupid, but this hurts more than being shot,' you laugh, rubbing your face with your hand.
'It will for a while, 'just how it goes when you lose a friend,' he says, 'but you've gotta stop taking it out on yourself, love. You've got all of us, right, even though we might not equate to the friend you found in them, I'll blood try my hardest for you,' he reassures, 'you don't need them anymore. You've got me.'
'I've always had you, Ky,' you say with a small smile, 'even before we started dating... remember when you used to wait for me to wake up so you could eat with me in the mess hall? Your stomach would be screaming by the time we finally got there,' you say with a laugh.
The man shares the moment of joy with you, laughing while nodding his head. 'Most embarrassing thing I've ever done,' he says.
'It worked though,' you sigh, 'I've been sitting with myself and thinking things over, and I think our friendship- even now-'
'Friendzoning me now, love?' he gasped, placing his hand against his heart. 'Thought we had something special!"
'Shut up,' you grumble, shuffling down the bed so you're closer to him, resting your calves against his thighs. 'The way you treated me since joining the force has made me realise how friendships are supposed to work.'
'Then why have you been so sad about everything, sweetheart?' he asks softly, leaning forward to take your hands in his. He looks confused at your confession, and even you're taken aback by the words that have left your mouth.
Truthfully, everything that's happened in the past few months has simply left you in a tangle of strange emotions. You can't decide if you're angry, sad, happy, or disappointed. Maybe you're all of the above and even more.
'I'm scared of what they're saying to everyone else back at home, I'm not even there to defend myself,' you confess, 'and... I've realised how stupid I've been for letting someone treat me like that, and I feel guilty for being happy that they're away from them and I'm thinking about everything the did for me and-'
'Slow down there, sweetheart,' Kyle quickly jumps in before you fall down the rabbit hole your mind has created over the past few weeks. Squeezing your hand, he exhales, 'you're tellin' me the same story over and over again 'cause you're trying to find a reason to go back to them, right?' he asks, 'this is the first time I'm hearing any of this.'
'I guess... I just feel bad for not wanting to go back to someone who has helped me.'
'Just because they did something good for you once every blue moon does not mean you owe them your friendship,' Kyle retorts, 'that's what being a friend means, you're supposed to be good to the people your friends with. But... they were only good to you when they got something out of you- remember the party they threw you when you got home?'
'The one you went to?' you ask, a chill running down your spine, 'they spent the entire fuckin' night begging for people to pay attention to them... y'know, when you left me to go the toilet, they came up to me and tried to have a go at me for bringing you back home with me,' you laugh, shaking your head.
It quiet between the pair of you for a moment as Kyle gives you a look. 'Fuck, you're right,' you exclaim, 'you are so fucking right.'
'I tend to be, love,' he joked, 'you're allowed to be upset or to be angry, fuck, I want you to be angry for the way you've been treated, but you've got to stop thinking about everyone else and start thinking about yourself,' he says, 'the friendships over and there's nothing you can do about it, but you have more important things to be focusing on.'
'I do... besides, I have you and the boys, right?'
Lifting your hand up, he presses a kiss atop of it, nodding his head with a bright smile, 'always, sweetheart. You won't be getting rid of us anytime soon,' he reassures.
A comforting silence falls between the pair of you as you take a moment to observe the man before you. How fortunate you have been to be his friend, let alone his partner. He truly gives you his heart every single day, and it is unlike anything you have ever seen from anyone else.
His love makes your heart beat against your chest and the longer you look at him, the warmer your face grows. Everything about him is perfect, you conclude, from his face to the way that his stomach growls while you're busy swooning over him.
'Are you serious?' you ask through a laugh.
'It is dinner time, love,' he confesses, 'came here to fetch you for dinner.'
'Why didn't you tell me?' you say, quickly moving your legs from out of his lap, putting you feet in your boots sitting beside your bed. Looking over your shoulder as you put your boots on, you watch as he stands, moving the chair back under your desk.
''Cause you needed me more than I needed dinner,' he answers, approaching you. As you lean down to tie one of your laces, he crouches down in front of you, tying the other one. 'You good for now?' he asks, looking up at you as he ties a bow.
Standing up, he holds his hand out to you and you take it with a soft sigh, 'as long as I have you,' you say, causing both of you to crinkle your noses, 'that was cheesy, I'm sorry.'
'Just a bit, love,' he says, 'but you're good?'
'Yeah... I think life has been better now that we don't talk,' you confess, 'I've just gotta get used to it, like you said, everything has to end someday.'
Kyle nods his head and smiles brightly as the pair of you head towards the door of your room.
'Atta girl.'
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kit-walk3r · 8 months
Text
Pre-death Kyle Spencer SFW alphabet
Trying something new again! Enjoy 💓
Warnings: It’s Kyle so obviously there’s references to parental sexual abuse :(
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Kyle’s really affectionate, he loves to hold you hand when out and about and will also do the casual arm over the shoulder. In private he likes to be close to you too and is always reminding you how much he loves you through little touches and such. He’s not exactly possessive but when he’s around his frat bros he’s extra affectionate to remind them that you’re taken and for them to not try and make a move on you (because he knows what they’re like).
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Kyle’s pretty easy to talk to so you’d probably meet at some college party and just get talking about the most random things and before you know it you’ve been talking for like 3 hours and realise you really like each other’s company so continue on from there. I feel like Kyle would be the type of friend who you could not speak to or see for a while but once you meet up again it’s as if no time has passed and you continue to get along great.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He loves a good cuddle! Especially when he’s drunk. When he’s drunk he can’t seem to let you go, his arms are constantly around you and holding you, no matter where you are. If you’re in private chances are that you’ll be wrapped up in his embrace one way or another, whether you’re watching a movie, doing homework or just talking. You can’t seem to let each other go.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Kyle would want to settle down eventually but I think he’d want to take it slow. He’s only young and in college so there’s no rush, but he does want the domestic life one day. He did a lot of cooking and cleaning growing up after his dad left so you can definitely rely on him in the domestic life.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Kyle would probably invite you over to his place (when his frat bros aren’t there) to do it and would want to have a proper conversation. He wouldn’t want to do it in public in case things got heated if you didn’t take it well but also to save you any embarrassment if someone overheard. He’s very gentle about it and is still considerate of your feelings.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Kyle would happily get married but he’d want to wait a while and not rush into things. He’d definitely want to finish college first before even considering it. Even if he’d already proposed he’d want to wait until he had a good job to tie the knot so that he could afford to give you the wedding of your dreams.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Kyle is very gentle both physically and emotionally and he is always checking to make sure that you’re okay, that you’re comfortable, that you’re happy etc. It’s his top priority. He’s always gentle when touching you, even during sex, because he wants you to feel as comfortable and safe as you can do.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
If Kyle’s having a bad day, whether that’s getting a bad test score or something more serious with his mum, he will always come to you for a hug. He says that your hugs are the best remedy in the world.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Kyle would originally want to wait for the right moment to say I love you. He knows he loves you, but he wants to wait until he’s sure that you feel the same since he doesn’t want to face the heartbreak if you don’t. I feel like Kyle is the type of person to plan a nice date to build up to saying I love you but would then let it slip out accidentally in the most random moment.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Kyle can get a little jealous if he sees his frat bros flirting with you (because we all know they would) but he has faith in you so tries not to get too upset or angry. He’ll probably say something to them afterwards, remind them that you’re his partner, but any negative feelings about the situation would not be aimed at you in any way.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
I feel like Kyle is quite the quick peck sort of guy. Like he’ll always be giving you a quick kiss on the cheek or forehead (or nose 🥺) as part of his way of showing love and affection. He’ll do it at the most random moments where you’re not expecting it. That doesn’t mean that’s he’s not on board for a good make out session though! If you’re in private he’s always ready to have one.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Kyle probably did a bit of babysitting when he was in high school so he’s relatively good with children, but mostly older children. Hand him a baby and he’ll be pretty clueless but let him hang out with a couple of six year olds and he’s great and they love him.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Mornings with Kyle are kinda lazy. He’s still just a guy in his late teens/early twenties so can take a lot of coercing to get up in the morning. If you want him to get up early you usually have to tempt him with something (sometimes it’s bacon, sometimes it’s ‘other things’)
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Curled up in bed watching a movie is how your nights usually end up. Chances are Kyle will end up asleep before the movie is over, cuddling you tightly. Every time Kyle will be like “I won’t fall asleep this time, I promise” but get to half way through the film he’s sleeping. You’ll try and wake him up and he’ll just be like “I am watching it, I’m just resting my eyes” before falling back asleep.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Obviously Kyle has a pretty big and awful secret which would take a lot of bravery for him to reveal. It takes a while for him to reveal it but when he does it all comes out at once and he gets quite overwhelmed when he says it.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Kyle’s pretty good at not getting angry at you, another thing he wants to avoid because of how his upbringing was. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible in your relationship so doesn’t want to do anything to sabotage that. However, he can lose his patience with other people a lot easier if they do something wrong/he doesn’t agree with, especially if it involves you.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Kyle likes to think he remembers everything about you but in all honesty he forgets a fair bit of stuff but doesn’t realise that he’s forgotten it? Like he straight up won’t even remember they you’ve told him it so to him it. He remembers the main things like your birthday, anniversary etc. but you could tell him something more trivial and he’s straight up forgotten it within a month.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
He’ll always remember how kind and accepting you were when he told you about his mum. He was worried about telling you in case you thought he was gross and that you wouldn’t want to be with him anymore but you just sat and listened and held him and reassured him that none of it was his fault and that you still loved him and he’d never felt so safe with someone in his life. That’s his favourite memory.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Kyle is obviously going to be protective, given the trauma he has gone through. He never wants you to feel vulnerable the way he has for a big portion of his life. He wants you to feel safe and protective. He knows that you can probably take care of yourself but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to be there for you to make sure that you’re never scared or hurt. And there will sometimes be days where he needs you there for him, where he’s having a really bad day and he just wants you to hold him close and tell him everything is going to be okay and be the one to protect him. You protect each other.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Kyle would try and put as much effort in to make things special, but given that he’s a college student and from a poor area he doesn’t always have the money to do so. Sometimes this can make him feel a little useless, like he can’t treat you to nice things, but you remind him that expensive things don’t matter and that you’re happy just being with him. When it comes to anniversary gifts he will often try and make something for him and even though chances are it will end up being a mess you love it anyway because you can see how much love and effort went into it.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Sometimes Kyle can be a little closed off if he’s having a bad time, even after he’s told you about his life. This will be one of the only times he’ll snap at you but is then super apologetic and upset with himself afterwards.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Kyle’s not overly bothered about his appearance but he does like to make sure that he looks neat and tidy, for example he will always make sure his hair is brushed and not a complete mess. However, if he’s got somewhere important to be he will put in the time and effort to make sure he looks smart and presentable to give off a good impression so that people will have faith in him.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
You make Kyle feel safe and loved, so without you he would definitely feel like a piece of him is missing. You’re his safety blanket, the person he can go to if the world is getting a little too much for him. He needs that.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
This is kind of sad but Kyle can’t have a girl be on top during sex unless he’s 100% comfortable with them and trusts them completely because of the things that happened with his mum. That position has too many bad memories for him :(
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Kyle really doesn’t like impatience in a partner, or someone who wants to rush straight into things. Kyle likes to take things slow and steady until he’s fully comfortable so someone who doesn’t have the patience to work with him is a no go. He also just doesn’t like rude or insensitive people in general and just wishes everyone would be respectful of one another.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Once you start sleeping over you realise Kyle can be very clingy in his sleep and likes to hold you close. Sometimes he likes you to hold him close instead. You don’t start sleeping over until he’s fully comfortable in your presence on an intimate level so at this point he feels both in your arms and with you in his arms and struggles to sleep any other way.
•—————————————————————————•
Hope this was okay! I always like trying something new on this blog and I’ve seen a lot of these so thought why not! Should I do more of these?
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itsohh · 5 months
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To Let Go
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A/N: Female reader, I take the canon and I fix it (make it worse). This had been stuck in my mind since I finished the campaign. Well after it soaked in. This does focus on your relationship with Soap / Ghost but also your friendship with Gaz. (He's just a great friend ngl)
Summary: A series of small snippets in the throuple life between you, Ghost and Soap. From when you first met through your mutual contact and friend Gaz until the end events of MW3.
Word count: 5005
Warnings: angst, major canon character death, sucidal thoughts, MW3 spoilers.
AO3 Masterlist
The Meeting
2020
The group of them stared at the table before them, Laswell on call. "This is far from home. We're going to need to get help." Price paused and looked towards Kate on the screen. "Got any friends that know Australia."
"A few." Her eyes cast towards Gaz. "You’re in luck, one just happens to live on your back door. Garrick knows them rather well."
Kyle's lips parted and he shook his head before he smiled and folded his arms.
"I'll track her down." Kate nodded. 
"No need, I reckon I know where she probably is tomorrow night."
"And she'll help us?" Soap asked.
"She will if I ask."
-
The pub was a complete roar. It was uncomfortably packed. All the screens had been changed and the thick smell of alcohol filled the air. Everyone's focus was on their drinks and the screens above. 
"This is where we find your contact?" Ghost hated the close proximity of everyone in the building. 
"Yeah she should be right around the corner in a booth-" His voice was cut off as everyone in the pub let out a roar. Drinks clinked and splashed everywhere while people hugged each other. A different scene was set when he slipped into the corner booth. It had been almost completely empty, strange for such a packed pub.  
"Gaz. Long time no see." You didn't look away from the television that was in perfect view. 
"What game is it?" He asked as the rest of the task force slipped in next to him. 
"Bledisloe Cup, in Brisbane."
"Who's winning?"
"Who's your friends?" You countered.
"This is Captain Price, that's Soap and this is Ghost." 
For the first time, you took your eyes off the television and sized up the men. "Captain? Suppose this isn't a pleasure meeting then."
"'Friad not." Price spoke up. 
"Hmm. Sorry, I can't help you. I'm suspended." You immediately shut them down. Gaz's lips parted and his body tensed up. 
"You're suspended?" 
"Uh-huh. We might be allies and all but can't help you if I'm not supposed to be working. Gonna have to find another girl for your situation."
"Why you suspended?" Soap asked. 
You leaned on the table and your head turned towards him. "Officially or unofficially?"
"Give us both." Ghost answered. 
"Well officially…" You swirled the liquid in your glass. "It's a paid suspension until I am reassigned."
"And unofficially?" 
"I taught my Captain the importance of making the right call."
"You punched another one of your COs" Gaz sounded annoyed. 
"This happen a lot?" Ghost asked. 
"Only since they stuck me here."
"For someone whose job it is to play nice with others, you don't do a very good job of it," Gaz said. A smile curled up on your lips as you took a sip from your drink. “Do I even want to know?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if I asked?”
“...Maybe another time.” Your eyes went up to the television and you pressed your lips together as your glass made contact with the table. “Hypothetically, what did yah need me for?”
The men exchanged looks and Gaz gave Price a small nod. Price produced a folder from inside his jacket and slid it on the table towards you. Your eyes found it and you flicked it open like a book. “This is… oh fuck this is Australian territory- this is…” Your eyes darted between the men. “Why the fuck do you want in here- actually don’t tell me. You guys won’t be able to legally get in here. The Australian government will never allow it. No Australian will help you.” 
“Which is why our mutual friend recommended you.” Ghost spoke up.
“Gaz?” Your eyes landed on him and narrowed.
“Laswell.” Price corrected.
“Laswell’s in on this? Hmm, look yeah I know the area pretty well, not like any native but well enough. If you can get Laswell to pull some strings about my suspension I’ll help you out. Even if this is off the record I’m grounded and would be in a lot of trouble if I leave the country at the moment.” You drained the rest of your drink and spun the glass around on the table. Their eyes were drawn to the sight a second before you stood up. “Gaz has my number. Do call it sometime.”
“What about your game?” He gestured to the television above you.
“We already won the series. The outcome of this doesn’t matter. Besides, the mention of work has stained my night.” 
-
Kiss Me
2021
You laughed as Soap sang out on the stage. His voice was horribly off-key but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the pure joy on his face. You had been transfixed on him, just as Ghost was next to you. How could you not? Forget a ray of sunshine, he was the entire sun. Warm and full of light, he was breathtaking in a way that had your cheeks heat up. 
It was so easy to pretend, the way he serenaded you. Truly a performance. Soap reached out for you to come join him and you furiously shook your head. 
"No way MacTavish." 
"Come on. You have been on the couch the entire night and it's not very often we get a karaoke machine."
"Thank god for that." Ghost mumbled next to you. 
"I'm with Ghost on this one. If I had known that you would be trying to get me to do this, I would have shot you lot down at the pub."
"Awww come on, besides you had fun at the prison."
"It was in fucking Tasmania. I hate Tasmania. Get your boyfriend here to come and sing with you instead." 
The pair of them froze the second and exchanged a look. 
"Oh? Husbands then?" 
"How did you know we were toge-"
"Soap we are almost always working. My room’s next to Ghosts. I hear you guys all the time." 
"Fuckin hell." Ghost grumbled under his breath but Soap seemed almost excited by the information. There was a glint in his eyes as his lips curled up. It seemed like they had been trying to keep it a secret. Yet, the way he looked at you, the way both of them looked at you, there was something else to the matter. 
"Heard all that but never bothered to come join us?" 
You let out a cough of shock which turned into a fit. His gaze burned into your skin red hot and you turned to see a similar one from Ghost. 
"You’re joking." You managed to cough out. 
"Negative." Ghost's voice had your hair stand up on your skin with anticipation.
"You’re serious." You swallowed as you managed to compose yourself. You looked down for a moment. 
"Less you don't want to. An't gonna force you."
"I don't do casual."
"Fine by me. What about you Ghost?"
"No complaints here."
"I- I've known you for like four months. Why? Have you been looking for a third is this-?"
"Nah, nothing like that. We like you." Soap sat on the sofa next to you and you could practically feel the way the boys were toying with you. 
"Nothing more to it than that. Don't overthink this." Ghost's voice now came from behind you as you faced Soap. 
"Do the pair of you normally fraternise with teammates?" You mean the words to come out humourous but your voice died a little and it came out as a breath. 
"Only the pretty ones." Soap was quick to reply and you could practically feel Ghost roll his eyes behind you. 
"Ask Johnny." 
"Canni kiss you?" 
"Yeah." 
Soap leaned in, his lips slowly on yours and you were aware of Ghost the entire time. His eyes watching you but somehow that didn't turn you off in any way. You pushed into Soap and snaked a hand into his hair. It gave you a good place to grip as you deepened the kiss. He moaned into your lips, clearly delighted in the turn of events as your tongue sealed entrance into his mouth. 
It was a request that wasn't granted right away as his tongue met yours and messily tangled with your own. Soap's hand landed on your thigh and gave it a decent squeeze but was promptly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Price and Gaz were back.
You separated from him, lips slightly swollen and Soap gave you a knowing smile. "We can continue this later yeah?"
"Yeah."
-
I Love you 
2021
It had been a close call. Too close for anyone's liking. One of those 'life flashing before your life moments'. But it wasn't a bunch of memories of everything that ever happened to you. No, the only thing you could focus on was the voices of your friends, your lovers. 
Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. While you couldn't understand what they were saying you could still hear them. You had been so horribly pinned down. If Ghost hadn't been there for overwatch you knew you would have been a goner. 
It seemed like everyone had brushed it off. After all, close calls were part of the job, but it still played over and over like a broken record. 
The warm bed with both of your lovers had been a sanctuary that you left. The night your mistress as you stared up to the sky. Death had stared you in the eyes and was killed. 
"Can't sleep?" Ghost came up and joined you. He leaned on the barrier but you didn't turn to face him. It didn't surprise you, he was a light sleeper. 
"Cut it a bit close today." You breathed. 
"Saw that."
"Thanks for having my back."
"Someone has to keep you alive." A silence settled between the pair of you for a couple of minutes. It was a comfortable silence that danced well with the refreshing coldness of the night's air. 
"One day this job will take me."
"Takes all of us. Good soldiers don't last long." 
"Your still kicking."
"'M not a good soldier."
"Right bastard you are LT." Soap's voice joined the pair of you and he settled his way to your left. 
"Sorry if I woke you Soap." 
"Beds too cold with our the pair of you." He mumbled.
"Surprised you can tell with your furnace of a body." Ghost said. 
"Oi-"
"I love you. Both of you." Your voice interrupted them and they went silent. "So much it hurts." You look down over the railing. "I could have died today without telling you. That doesn't sit right with me."
Soap whispered out your name and then you suddenly felt his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest and Ghost pressed his chest against your back. Sandwiched in between them you were engulfed in their bodies and warmth. 
"We love you too, lass. Always."
-
Reunited
2022
Your legs burned. Most of your energy has already been spent on the mission. Now every Shadow in Las Almas was out to get you and you really just wanted a warm bed. Separated from the rest of your squad and alone in the dark, you could only hope that Soap and Ghost made it out. 
Any hope to reunite with them had been thrown out the window when your radio broke. It didn't matter if you survived, only if they did. A trail of bodies marked where at least one of them had been. In all honesty, you couldn't tell the difference between Soaps or Ghosts kills. All were expertly done. 
At the moment you could feel it. The difference between you and them. They were the best of the best. You? You certainly weren't bad but your spot in the team was one due to convenience and the information that they needed at the time. They would survive and you would not. Somehow the fact didn't make you was. 
So long as they continued on. That's what mattered. That was the realisation you made as you slid down against a wall. A line of blood painted the wall behind you until you met the ground. The bullet wound that had gone clean through you had been attended to by the best of your ability but it was almost impossible to deal with the hole in your back. 
You wondered if a Shadow would find you first or if you would just bleed out. A fate so many civilians of Las Alma's were given. A blinding light in the darkness had you squeeze your eyes shut. It was like the sun on steroids. It didn't matter much because the second you closed your eyes they became far too heavy to reopen. 
"Fuck it's her. She bleeding bad."
"Get her in back, we need to go now." 
Those voices, angels of their own kind. A weak smile curled on your face and you managed to grasp out while you were moved about. "Johnny." You weakly whispered and put your bloody hand on his face. 
"I got you, we got you."
-
Care
2021
The lights were far too bright but nothing like you had experienced before. A groan left your lips and you attempted to move only to be stopped. A hand kept you still but you pushed away. 
"Stop that else I'll let you bleed out."
"Simon?"
"Scared the shit outta us you know that?"
"’M sorry."
"Should be." You cracked your eyes open to meet his. 
"Where are we?"
"A safe house Alejandro told me about. I patched up your wounds. You've been out for a while. Lucky too."
"That I didn't bleed out?"
"That nothing happened to you while we were gone."
"You left?"
"Had to, the three of us got Alejandro out of prison. The old man showed up with Gaz as well."
"Thank fuck they're okay." 
Ghost continued to repatch your wound and your eyes cast across the room. 
"What's going on?"
"Plans to take back the base." His eyes met yours as your mouth opened. "No your not coming." 
You bit your tongue for a second and nodded. Silence ran between the pair of you, only the sound of the Vaqueros around you chattering away prevented true silence. 
"Thought you were dead." 
"Felt like it."
"You didn't radio in."
"It got busted." 
"You took a bullet for Johnny."
"Rather I take it than him."
"He wanted to stay, to look for you."
"And you were the voice of reason I presume. 
"Don't do that again."
"Ghost…" 
His back straightened up and his eyes narrowed. "Wanted to search the entire city for you."
"That's Johnny for you-"
"-We both did."
"I…You made the right move in the end. Leaving."
"Couldn't lose Johnny as well. Wasn't easy convincing him to leave the city. Pure luck we found you."
"I don't know why you're mad at me. What did you want me to do?"
"You were ready to die there. You gave gave up. Don't ever stop fighting because we won't stop fighting to get you back. Ever. We're a team. Don't you forget that."
-
Roadtrip
2022
It had been hours that the group of you had been in the car. Save for the few put-stops made along the way. Ghost sat in the driver's seat to the right while Soap was on the left. The sun above was oh-so bright while the roads were relatively clear. 
With your seatbelt stretched far, you leaned on Ghost's seat in front of you. There was only sometimes chatter among the pair of you. A comfortable silence settled in and was only disrupted when one of you saw something of interest outside the window. 
The current silence was when your ears perked up. "Oh my god, I love this song. Turn it." You patted Soap's shoulder. Ghost was the one to turn it up but didn't say a word. 
"Fan of Elton John huh?" Soap smiled over his shoulder.
His question was answered by your singing that picked up in the car. A wide grin spread across his face as he continued the duet with you. 
Honey if I get restless
Baby, you’re not the type 
That grin on his face was reflected on yours as you bobbed your head side to side with the music. Soap turned it up a little bit more. 
When I was down
I was your clown 
"An't that the truth." Ghost muttered and you slapped him on the shoulder but you couldn't help but laugh into the song. 
Don't go breaking my heart
I won't go breaking your heart
-
Dance
2023
Soap and Ghost finally made it into the pub where Price and Laswell waited for them. There was a calm relaxed vibe in the room as the two men settled down with drinks in hand. 
"Laswell. Captain." Ghost greeted and Ghost followed. 
"Boys."
"Where's the other two?" Soap asked and Price lifted his glass to point towards the jukebox. There in front of it, you danced with Gaz. Poorly at that. Music blared seemingly louder when the pair of them looked. 
Your head tilted back as you laughed only to duck down under Gaz's arm as the pair of you danced. Ever so faintly they could hear the pair of you sing along. 
Ghost pulled out his seat and sat down, not taking his eyes off you for a moment. Soap did the same and while a piece of him wished that was him there with you- it brought him joy to see you having so much fun with Gaz. 
Ghost's hand settled on Soap's knee under the table. The need for touch, any touch. "Been at it for a while those two have." Price lifted his drink to his lips. 
"Make quite the dance couple." It was rare for them to see Laswell with her hair down, even if it was metaphorically.  
"Mentioned something about not dancing since she moved out."
"They lived together?" Ghost asked. 
"Briefly when she first moved to England from what I heard. Seems the dancing queens have finished up, you can ask yourself."
-
Love
2023
The smell of sex filled the air as you cuddled up to Simon's side. Completely bare, not even his mask protected his face. He looked directly at the ceiling as your head rested on his chest. Johnny mirrored you on the other side. 
"I love you both." You hummed seemingly out of nowhere. Soap cocked a brow and Simon looked down at you. 
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
-
His End. 
2023
There was something about going as fast as you possibly could and still being late. There was something about trying your damn hardest and still losing. There was something about giving your all and it all being taken. 
There was something about arriving only to find your heart on the ground. Already dead. Just the last to know. 
The sound of the trains ran in your ear. Gaz and Price's voices were so distant even though they were only a few metres away. The talk of a red wire met your ears but didn't enter. You were the first to crumble. 
Your knees hit the ground in shock as your hand shakily reached for his face. Still warm. Still so so warm. You had just missed him. Two minutes early- two minutes and he would have been there. There, safe in your arms, not cooling on the ground. 
"Simon." It was your other lover's name you called. In that moment the small whisper could only be heard by him as crouched next to you. It was all you could say. A beg for him to do something as if he could resurrect the man before you. 
Broken and unsure, he was always the one with answers. The one that knew how to make things right. Not this time though. Tears didn't swell in your eyes. They couldn't. All you felt was cold. Shock cursing through you. No longer were you a hardened soldier but a young woman. A woman who had just lost her love. 
When you finally looked up you found you weren't alone. Anger coursed through Price, a silent anger that oh had never seen before. A violent one that was only controlled by the tightness of his first. 
Gaz had a sadness to his. He leaned down to close Johnny's eyes and you couldn't help the choke gasp that left your lips as he did so. When you finally dared to look at Simon's eyes, his met yours and you saw the glassy layer of tears that threatened but wouldn't fall. 
He was gone. 
-
Home
2023
It wasn't often you left without Ghost. Yet when the group of you silently got back to base, you didn't bother to go to the debriefing. You couldn't. Your body was on complete autopilot as the sight of Soap dead on the floor played your kind
That autopilot got you home. Not to the apartment that you shared with Soap and Ghost but your own apartment.  The one you hadn't been to in what felt like years. Only the odd check-up for the sake of your insurance. 
The door was pushed open and your feet took you inside. Your fingers found the record player and you turned it on. Just like you used to do many years ago when you first settled in there. 
She packed my bags last night, pre-flight
Then you broke. Snapped. You were brought back and you let out a howl. A deathly scream and the damn burst. Johnny was gone and he was never coming back. Every moment had been the last. Only alive in memory, that promising future or his had been sniffled out. 
It's lonely out in space
You swore out and grabbed the first thing you saw- a lamp- and smashed it down on the ground. "Johnny!" You screamed. A horse scream, one from the very pit of your core. The side table was pushed over as you saw red. Tears streamed down your face as you smashed the glass coffee table in front of your sofa. You didn't care that the glass cut into your first when it collided. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. 
The television was the next to go. The DVD player was the perfect object to be filled out and sent into the middle of it. 
Rocket man, burning out his fuse up here alone
Your CD collection, partially empty now thrown to the ground. What caught your eye though, was the pistol that had been strapped to the bottom of your side table. It had fallen from the holster and in a moment of grief, you picked it up. 
The buzz of Gaz's phone had him pick up. It wasn't often that Ghost called him. 
"Do you know where she is?"
"Went home didn't she?" Gaz's voice was quiet, tired. 
"Not here. She's not picking up her phone either." Ghost didn't need to say that he was worried, Gaz already knew. 
"Well, she could have meant her home. She has an apartment not too far from the base. I can text you the address. I have a key."
"I'll meet you there.”
The apartment building was rather dark when he arrived. In all honesty, the place you picked wasn’t the greatest. A shithole of an apartment complex really. But it was discrete and the neighbours never complained. Or at least they had never complained when he would share late nights with you with the music up loud. 
Gaz knocked on the door a couple of times but didn’t receive an answer. Doubt crept up on him, perhaps you didn’t go back there. Regardless, he had to check. The key slid into the slot with ease and he pushed the door open. He silently swore as he saw the scene before him. Your entire apartment had been completely trashed, everything destroyed without mercy.
A light buzz from your record player hummed in the air but besides that, there was little sound. Or so he originally thought. As he took a step inside he heard the faintest of sobs coming from the kitchen. Gaz was on high alert and his hand went to the pistol at his hip. But when he reached the kitchen his shoulders dropped and his brows softened. 
“Hey, hey, hey.” He rushed to your side. You sat on the floor with your back leaning against a kitchen cabinet. Blood ran down one of your hands. “What happened? W-”
“He's gone.” For a moment he thought you meant an intruder, someone trying to hurt you but realisation was quick to cross his face. Alarm bells went off in his head as his eye went to the gun that shook slightly in your trembling hand. 
“I can’t… I can’t do it anymore Kyle. He's gone and I can’t… I can’t bear to be away from him.” 
His head tilted in empathy as tears rolled down your face. 
“I just want to be with him again. I wish we never went down there.”
“We had to, thousands would have died.”
A bitter laugh left your lips and you choked on your tears. “I know it's selfish of me to say but I would have preferred that. Anything to have him back.”
“You know that and I know you don’t mean that.”
“Fuck, I do. I really do Gaz. I love him so much.”
“He loved you too but he wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“Well, it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he's gone.” You shouted out and waved the gun. “I’m so tired. So so tired. He didn’t deserve that. He's too good of a man. I would have given anything to trade places.”
“Your right, he was a good man.” Kyle moved so he was sitting next to you against the kitchen counter. “The best. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so head over heels for someone. For you and Ghost. I know for certain if something happened to either of you, any of us really, he woulda tore the world apart.” Gaz put his hand on your knee. 
“I wish I could  held him,  have told him I loved him one more time.”
“He knew and I think it does matter what he wanted because you care about him. He would want you here with Ghost. If you…” Gaz paused, he couldn’t bring himself to say those words killed yourself. “Hung it in early, he’d be alone. He just lost Johnny, just like you did. I don’t think there would be anything left to him if something happened to you.” 
“I…”
“Simon loves you. He’d be completely shattered. Just like the rest of us would.”
Your tears came down harder but he watched as your grip loosened on the gun and made the slightest twitch towards him. Slowly and gently, he took it from you and placed it on the countertop behind you. Gaz turned towards you and offered you a hug, one you took without hesitation and cried into his shoulder. Messy and wet but he didn’t care. His hand went to soothe your back as he held you tight. 
As he looked over your shoulder his eyes made contact with Ghost’s. His eyes were glassy but hardened as he stood there frozen. “You’re not alone in this. I promise, we all hurting just as much. But we’re a team yeah? We got each other's back.” 
You pulled back from Gaz and nodded. His hand came up your your cheek and wiped away the tears. “Ghost and I are gonna patch you up okay.”
“Ghost?” Your voice was small and vulnerable.
“Right here.” His voice came from behind you and you turned your head around. Guilt consumed your face and your eyes dropped. Ghost crouched down next to you and slowly took your bloodied hand. 
“Promise me that you will stay.” Tears rolled down his face and were swallowed by the lower part of his mask. Neither of you had ever seen the man cry before. “Please.”
“I’m sorry.” You nodded your head and he pulled you into his arms. 
“I can’t lose you.” He kissed the top of your head, his hands were shaking.
-
Call
2023 
“-Yeah, I’m with them now. At her apartment with Ghost. It’s been a long night.”
“That Price?” Ghost’s voice was quiet as he looked over the sofa to see Gaz in the kitchen on the phone. Gaz nodded towards him before he walked over.
“Here's Ghost now.”
“You holding up?” Price’s gruff voice came through the phone and Ghost looked down to his lap where you lay there asleep. You were curled up to him, your hand now bandaged up. 
“I’ll manage.”
“How is she?”
“Better not, almost lost her.”
“Yeah, Gaz mentioned. How bad is she?”
“She's strong, she’ll heal. It will always hurt but she can handle it.”
“Good. When you can tell her to take some time, the both of you.”
“Makarov’s still out there.”
“He is but we have allies and I won’t let something happen to hurt on my watch. She’ll need you.” Ghost gently stroked your head. “What about Johnny?”
“I’ve got the flights sorted, it’s what I originally called Gaz for. We leave in the afternoon.”
“Understood.”
“And Ghost? Take care.” Ghost's eyes looked over your calm face, still there. Still his. Still alive.  
“Will do.”
-
Let go
The cool breeze soothed your body as you watched as Ghost opened the urn and let the wind catch.
Johnny's ashes spread out in a swirl, destined for the water below. Despite all the pain and all the grief you could help but smile. Just ever so slightly. Gaz had been right. It did matter what Johnny wanted. He would have liked this, to be returned home. He would have liked all four of you there with him. 
Kyle gently squeezed your hand and you wiped away the silent tears on your face. It would be easy dealing with the pain and grief but in that moment, you knew things would get better. 
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asterdisaster06 · 6 months
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i love you ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?
ghost x reader [exes], platonic 141 x reader
1 - 2 - 3 - 4
summary > Soap and Gaz shenanigans
word count > 1.9k
warnings > military inaccuracies
a/n > do you guys ever have so many fic ideas but have to limit yourself to two series only? yeah, that’s me and it’s breaking my heart that i can’t keep up with 10 separate ideas
ao3
The sun shining through the military issued curtains warms your sleeping figure as your eyes flutter open - your brain taking a moment to catch up with your eyes viewing your new room. Your new home. It offers you a sense of comfort alongside loneliness at the thought of the pure solitude you were encased in. At your old base, you shared a room with a fellow soldier and someone you were proud to call a friend, but that isn’t the case here. Here, you’ve yet to truly make any official friends, and you're doubtful that the unease you feel even being on base would let you open up enough to be able to. Trust and friendship is something that you would like to keep separate on the field - most soldiers would - but you suppose it also extends into domestic moments. You find it hard to trust someone after one little conversation ended a relationship just like that. 
You shake that thought off like a wet dog to water and push yourself to get up. From what little you remember from the chaos of last night, today was supposedly stealth and sniper training with Gaz. It didn’t trouble you too much considering the connection between Simon and Gaz was a deep trust but nothing beyond simply working together. You had to have that trust with those on your side in this line of work. The job would be ten times more dangerous if you didn’t. You suppose that this training was meant to build that trust between you and the team before an actual mission, but you weren’t entirely sure if you could achieve that with Simon himself.
Brushing your teeth, you stare at the tired figure in front of you. A bruised and battered soul that has never quite healed despite your best efforts, as evidenced by the distinct eye bags and litter of scars across both your skin and heart. Seen and unseen. To the trained eye, you suppose, there was no real difference however. You spit into the sink, letting it run down the drain alongside your emotions. The cabinet holds only the base essentials provided by the base and your medicine that you throw back with a grimace. There was nothing you could truly do to drastically improve your appearance, but you found yourself wishing somehow that you could. You resign yourself to how you look and shake your folded clothes out before throwing them on in preparation for the long day ahead. You mask slips on over your head with such ease that you would
As you lace up your boots with efficiency earned only by doing it repetitively every single day, you hear a knock sound on the door. A gentle thud that almost reminds you of the sound a body makes when it falls to the floor - keyword being almost. A second knock is made just as you reach the door and turn the knob to be greeted with the sight of both Soap and who you assume is Kyle “Gaz” Garrick by his side. 
“Rise and shine, Angel!” Soap yells out, and you can almost hear bagpipes accompanying his excitement if you listen carefully. Then again, you could be imagining it. 
“Training doesn’t start until eight. It’s six,” You point out, your morning voice still fully fledged. If that wasn’t enough to signify your recent throw into consciousness the yawn after your statement should’ve been.
“He wanted to invite you to breakfast at seven, but also insisted on getting here early enough so you couldn’t say no,” Gaz offers up before he’s jabbed in the side by Soap, much to your amusement. 
“I’ll join you guys for breakfast,” You begin, already seeing the start of a grin making its way across Soap’s face. “But, only if you guys join me for my morning run beforehand.”
“Oh, how hard could it be? I bet I could beat you around the compound, Gaz,” Soap teases. 
. . .
Soap would soon eat his words, and dirt, as he ended up tripping over air twice on the run. Although, he insists there was a rock that you didn’t see that was out for him. Unsurprisingly, despite the little mishaps at the beginning of the jog, your two future comrades kept up decently with your pace. You suppose they had to if they were able to make it all the way up the ladder into this team. 
“How is Soap more clumsy than you, Gaz, but somehow you’re the one that fell out of a helicopter?” You mutter under your breath, realizing your mistake as soon as the words escaped your mouth. 
“How did you know that story, love?” Gaz asks, wiping sweat off his face with the back of his hand. 
“Word gets around,” You reply quickly. Not a complete lie. It just so happens that word got around from Simon mentioning small, insignificant details about his teammates on missions. Ones that made you laugh way back when. 
“Imagine being known only for falling out of a chopper,” Soap teases, nudging Gaz. 
“Very funny. At least my hair is regulation standard,” Gaz says, tussling the mohawk of the Scot. Almost like brothers, you notice. 
“Oi, lay off you div,” Soap says, his scotticism slipping out. 
“I’ll meet you guys for breakfast after a shower,” You say, giving a stretch and a big yawn afterwards.
“Just don’t get lost,” Gaz offers as he waves farewell. It appears that Soap has been spreading stories about your unfortunate meeting circumstances. 
“Aye, we’ll save you a seat, LT,” Soap grins with an exaggerated salute. 
You roll your eyes with a soft smile painted across your face as you turn to head back towards your living quarters. The dimly lit room offered a muted sense of comfort; although, you were itching to get some pops of color into the bland room. You’d have to check with Price to see how much you could change - considering you were contracted for five years, it would be likely that there was more leeway than usual. Especially given your position, but that could just be the fact your old roommate and you constructed a colorful, sentimental place you were proud to call home. It elicited a faint pang of homesickness within you. You’d have to call sometime soon to update them. 
Making sure the door was definitely closed behind you first, you slip off the light mask. Its design reminded you of the weeks leading up to the completion of its construction. You had a few of your fellow teammates to thank for their arts and crafts help - although you suspect that they would rather thank you for the creative outlet. You just consider the fact that all the crayons were accounted for and un-eaten a success. It has become a part of you now, whether you wanted it or not. There was something symbolic about the bird-like nature of its design; perhaps you wished you had wings of your own to escape the hurt. However, that’s more of a therapist's take on what actually occurred. 
It was more of an inside joke whenever you were a recent hire to your previous base. There was a mission or two that required you to take a position as a lookout. A bird had started chirping and cawing in your ear, sending extreme confusion over the commsat your attempts to get it to shoo. It was something that your team laughed about after the fact, saying that the bird life chose you. Ergo, your mask reflected the appearance of your feathered friends. The idea of your callsign being reflected in the feathery appearance also made it feel fitting. 
You shed your comfortable yet cold clothes and step into the warmth of the shower water, letting it run down your frame into the drain. If you stared long and hard enough at the floor, you could’ve sworn that it held a pink tint. It was a simple hallucination, but it had been real at one point in your life. You choose to close your eyes, focusing on the feelings of your hands running across scars - old and new. Your past life never held these marks, evidence of your suffering. Simon was the only one decorated with the physical damage appearing on his skin a few years ago, but you’ve accumulated more than your fair share of healed wounds.
You wash away those thoughts alongside the sweat and suds down the drain, making way for the amour surrounding your heart. The roughness of the towel as you dry yourself grounds you to reality. You actively avoid looking at the mirror, refusing to look at your scarred appearance that Simon would lose his mind over, as you get dressed. Breakfast wasn’t something that you indulged in as much anymore, not when it was no longer shared with the hugs from behind as Simon stole a piece of bacon. The very thought pained you to your core. You covered it up, swept it under the rug, in a very similar fashion to you disguising your appearance by the mask. 
You exit your room, making sure to lock it behind yourself. The beasts cage. You wander the halls until you reach the canteen, quickly scanning the room until your eyes settle on Soap. Or rather, the man beside him. Ghost. There was something about him that had changed from the person you once knew, besides the obvious appearance and behavior due to the environment. Or maybe, just maybe, you never knew him after all. You refuse to believe that you knew the real him, and the real Simon had truly tossed you to the side that easily. It wasn’t something you were willing to accept. Not yet. Not ever.
“Oi, over here Lieutenant!” 
There goes your sense of peace and internal argument over whether you could slip out unnoticed and effectively ghost this entire interaction. Your inner turmoil is only heightened by the fact that the choice was made for you - that and the fact that you’re now being perceived by the entire room as you make the walk of shame over to the table. All the eyes on you make it difficult to feel at ease. Even with your mask disguising that particular emotion paired with a heavy wince, your body language undoubtedly exuded your nervous nature. 
You trudge over to the table as the group all gives you their own greetings. You have an inkling that Soap had dragged all of the members here for breakfast as a sort of meeting for you. It’s incredibly hard for you to believe that both Price and Ghost were here willingly. 
“Goodmorning, Bonnie!” Soap says, the chipper in his voice making you wince slightly.
“Morning, little birdie,” Gaz calls out, seemingly taking a shine to that new nickname.
“Lieutenant,” Is all Price offers up. 
Although, it’s more than the intense stare and grunt you got from Ghost. You’re not entirely sure if you’re more offended or relieved by that. You pull one of the chairs out and take a seat near Soap and Gaz. It appears that they weren’t lying about saving you a seat, much to your surprise. On top of that, someone here - you suspect Soap - grabbed you a tray so you could avoid the line. It warmed your heart, a smile sent towards Soap. It’s times like these that you thank past you for constructing the mask in a way that your mouth is exposed enough to speak and eat. 
“Hey, Ghost. Have you ever thought about having your mask like that?” Soap pipes up.
“No. I already have enough of my face exposed with the eyes,” He replies gruffly. 
“Ah, I suppose that’s true. Angel does have their eyes covered. It’s kinda like the opposite of your mask,” Soap mentions. 
A simple hum from the man across the table is all you received. It’s all you or anyone else at the table received the entire time you spent eating with the team. Despite the small talk and inside jokes being created right in front of your eyes. It was so odd, sitting there right in front of the man you used to wake up next to, and him not knowing a single thing. Never noticing. These thoughts plagued you into a simple quiet as you listened to Soap explaining what “mountain chickens” were to Gaz - much to his confusion. The absurdity of the completely domestic circle of fellow soldiers sharing breakfast made you smile, if only slightly. All of it came to an end eventually as each individual had something to busy themselves with throughout the day. 
“Well, better not waste any time,” Gaz exclaims, offering you a hand up that you graciously accept. 
“Up and at ‘em soldier,” Soap adds. 
You were looking forward to the hand to hand combat training against these two. It was a formality but nonetheless you stirred at the opportunity to exhibit your abilities against both men. Prove yourself in some way or another. Maybe even prove to yourself that you do in fact deserve to be here - despite the words ringing in your ears as an echo of Simon Riley claiming you didn’t. Never would. Well, you would prove him wrong. Starting today. Not five years ago - starting today - because now he could see you. You could show him beyond a doubt that you had improved enough to earn a spot on the renowned team. Alongside him - even if he wouldn’t know it. Not yet.
-
taglist: @abbiesxox
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the-river-runs · 10 months
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Back at it again with a post from my best friend! This one is another edit she's made!
Once again, I have been asked to post this to my tumblr for Fandom, and all content was edited by her.
Here's her Instagram!
Fandom has also asked me to relay this message:
"Hello everyone tagged here! (Hi again Naff <3)
To show my love and appreciation for the DCA content creator community, I dedicate this edit to all of you. Whenever if you draw art, write fanfiction, or both, I would like to thank you. You guys make outstanding work and are insanely talented 🫡
I already introduced myself to two of you, but to most - hello! My name is Fandom and my Instagram is @ http.redshoes. If you have an Instagram, hmu!! I would love to follow you if I haven’t already. I hope that everyone enjoys the edit! 💕💕
Ac: dex.editz (TikTok)
Vc: JazeCinema & Kyle Allen Music (YouTube)
Sdt: @naffeclipse , @zhench , @lavenoon , @bamsara , @paper-lilypie , @crow-n-tell , @spaciebabie , @sorveteir , @skizabaa , @solitary-star , @zus-a-fungi , @venomous-qwille , @pure-plum , @xitsensunmoon , @kandidandi , @bri-does-art , @pillowspace
Blender credits (on thumbnail): EliteRobo04 (Reddit)
Let’s give a big round of applause to these creators!! 👏👏👏
(P.S. - I tried doing a new editing style in CapCut so apologies the quality is a bit iffy. I’m attempting to make it resemble After Effects since I usually make simpler edits. I wanna know if I did a good job at it or not 👀)
(P.P.S. - if the one and only, the myth, the legend themselves…Solar Lunacy, Demon!Bakugou w/ Human!Izuku “let’s make an accidental ‘friendship’ deal bc we’re oblivious also my mom’s almost killed me for this one DEKU but thank goodness you don’t seem to really remember me” AU, the one that carried the Invader Zim fandom and made that one ET Katy Perry comic with Dib and Zim, while they’re being delulu about not being rivals but FRIENDS they are FRIENDS your honor but they don’t want to admit it, Bam the Sara ™ sees this…I told River to bake me cupcakes if most of the users I tagged for a separate post on Insta would see it. They all did, but not Bam Sara the Sara Bam ™. It is a sad but a true story. I got my cupcakes and they were absolutely delicious, but!! I told my bestie, River, that if Sara the Bam Bam Bam ™ saw my post, she needed to bake me a cake and throw a celebration party. This whole baking thing was an inside joke at first, but now it’s getting real. If they see/comment on this from Tumblr, Insta, or on both platforms, I will *literally* return the favor to my best friend here and bake her something. Throw a little celebration party too while we’re at it 💥💥)
(Bam, if you do actually see this, apologies for remixing the crap out of your username; I only did it for the sillies. I’m a huge fan of your content and you’re so SO creative you have no idea. Your art skills are everything and I wanted you to be appreciated as well!)" -Fandom
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green-alien-turdz · 8 months
Note
What are your headcanons for the main five, if you dont mind answering. I really like your take on all of them (Especially Kyle!!) and id love to hear more of your takes on them, aside from what you include in your art.
I'm curious as to which headcanons you're really interested in, but I will do my best to try and cover as much ground as possible.
Keep in mind that this is all teen headcanon's (so like 17-18)
STAN: Doing his best to not fall apart at any moment. Home life is still pretty ass and Randy is a dickwad like always. Sharon is a good constant in his life, and she's become much more lenient with him over the years, knowing that he's got a lot of shit on his plate. Is still in Crimson Dawn because it helps him vent his frustrations. Worked rather hard to not be an alcoholic, but doesn't turn down drinking with Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. Genuinely making an effort to try and take care of himself and trying to get Kyle to do the same. He is also going to be narrowly graduating by the skin his teeth with help from Wendy (who is simply a friend), and Kyle. He also became much more into protest groups, but to the dismay of his friends who are forced to watch hundreds of documentaries and listen to him read articles. (The intensity of this passion came from trying to find a purpose in life when he was at his worst, mentally.)
/\ Both like one another but have no clue where to go from there \/
KYLE: In desperate need of anger management classes. The pressure of always trying to be perfect and excel at everything caught up with him in about 6th grade, where he'd start trying to control every aspect of his life in the worst ways possible. Sheila and Gerald are completely blind to any of this, seeing as the grades never dropped, so they assume all is well. Despite that, he does still preach about self-care and the importance of letting out "pussy emotions" to the rest of his friends, who are all well aware of his issues (sh + ed) but aren't sure how to fix them. He is also Crimson Dawn's biggest supporter and is usually wearing the same shirt because he finds comfort in it.
CARTMAN: Thriving in his own sense. He still has an insane amount of unwarranted confidence, but he does still have some insecurities (the narcissism often cancels it out though). He has become more barrable with age, but that's not saying much. Somehow, he still can't grasp why no one outside of his friend group even likes talking with him. Has a thing for Wendy again, but it's very on again and off again between the two, seeing as Wendy will usually get bothered by him and then dip. Genuinely does care for his friends (in his own way), but masks it with insults and fighting. May or may not purposefully drive away all of his mom's boyfriends, afraid of losing her care and attention. - EXTRA: Worked at the sewerslide hotline as a joke for about a week before getting fired -
KENNY: Can't take a single thing seriously because if he does, it'll break him. Takes pride in being the most comedic person in the room, always trying to one up the next guy, typically with gross out humour. Spends most of his time away from home, unless it's to take care of Karen, but he often takes her out with him, even to his jobs. He still works at City Wok, but also picks up other odd jobs around town. Stan will also give him a shit ton of Randy's supply to sell around to minors as a way to get some extra cash. Similar to Stan, he's not doing so great school wise, seeing as he spends so much time working, and would rather be with friends in his free time, but Kyle also helps him to make sure that he's going to graduate. When it comes to his friendship with Marjorine/Butters, he's the main supporter, doing what he can to help out. -EXTRA: While he doesn't have time very often to do so, he does try and go out as Mysterion when possible)
BUTTERS/MARJORINE: Get this bitch out of her household now. After many years of uncomfortable confusion, finally came to the conclusion that being Marjorine was what she wanted. Despite an unaccepting homelife, she is very openly feminine once out in public, getting dressed into clothes she likes in public restrooms. Going to graze over the home abu$e we know occurs. She mainly hangs out with Kenny and everyone else when she can but spends a lot of time grounded. Getting a job at the mall has helped with being able to get some time to be herself. She also really enjoys being the guitarist in Crimson Dawn and is one of the few times she'll actually let negative emotions out. Although there is still the occasional outing as Professor Chaos.
As a whole, they're all still dickwads who love going around town and fucking shit up. They are NOT well liked because they're so obnoxious, and they're very likely going to be the ones behind random destruction and vandalism. They still love scheming and ruining the lives of others, but try to be less open about it as to avoid getting in trouble with the law as an adult.
(If you have any specific headcanon's you were looking for, feel free to send an ask! I'm not sure what it was you were looking for, so please let me know if I missed anything you were curious about.)
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