#okay listen so scotland

[alotofpockets]

Final four | Leah Williamson

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Dutch!Reader

Summary: Playing against your girlfriend was never easy, but playing against her team for a spot in the final four of the nations league was tough on another level.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.8k

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Playing for a different country than your girlfriend meant that you would have to play against each other from time to time. You had never been a fan of having to play against her, since it always meant that only one of you could win. Playing with Leah was much more your cup of tea. Arsenal was where the two of you had met and fell in love, you had played there together for years now. 

Going into the Nations League, you knew that you were going to be competing in the same league, but you cursed yourself when you found out that both The Netherlands and England had been drawn into group A1, meaning that even if everything went well for both your teams, only one of your teams was going to make it into the final four. 

You were nearing the end of the group stages, just two more matches to be played, Scotland vs Belgium, and The Netherlands vs England. The Netherlands and England shared the first position in the group, only England taking the lead on goal difference, meaning that the winner of tonight’s game was going to qualify either Leah’s team or your team.

In the locker room you were gearing up nervously, your mind stuck on the fact that it was going to be either you or Leah. You sat in your cubby next to Viv, the only person who knew exactly how you were feeling. While neither her or Beth were captaining their teams, she was in the same boat, it was either going to be her or her girlfriend moving up in the competition. Viv was a close friend of yours, as you played for the same club and county, you had known her for years, and she knew how to read you well. “The high’s and low’s of football are so close together. I know it seems stressful right now, but no matter what happens, it is going to be okay.” She said with a reassuring hand on your knee. “Thanks Viv.”

You didn’t feel like you should be the one giving the pre-match speech right now, but as the captain it was your duty to do so. “Alright team, listen up.” You stood in the middle of the room. “This is a big game. As you all know, only the winner gets a spot in the final four. We have been performing well, but don’t forget that they have been as well. I want each and everyone of you to give it your all out there.” You looked around at your team proudly. “Let’s show them what we’ve got. Team on three.” Everyone stood and put their hands together, “One, two, three.” You count off, and the room fills with one loud “Team.”

The team starts lining up in the tunnel, you put your game face on and try to get in the game zone mind wise. The England squad lines up next to you, this was really happening. When Leah stood next to you she reached out her hand, with her head still facing the field in front of her. You take her hands, and give it a squeeze, before looking up at the sky and closing your eyes. The moment of the two captains was of course filmed as the camera crew was ready to film the teams entering the field, a moment that you would forever treasure no matter today’s outcome. 

With one last deep breath, you let go of Leah's hand, as you both lead your teams out onto the field. Both national anthems are sung, and one more quick team huddle was held, before you made your way to the middle of the field. You shake hands with the referees as well as Leah of course. 

Before you walk back to your respected places on the field, you give her one last hug. “Give it your all.” You whisper in her ear. She gives you a final squeeze with the words, “You too.” While it was stressful playing against your girlfriend, it was reassuring to you to have moments like this with her before.

The teams were well matched, possession of the ball was switched around constantly. It was getting frustrating for you as a forward to not get the ball further onto the field than a little past the halfway line before it was intercepted by an England player. 

When Jackie intercepted the ball from a bad pass between Keira and Georgia, she lifted her eyes to see you running along the flank. Her pass came in your direction, and with a perfect first touch, you managed to run forward. It was the first time either team had really been able to build up an attack, and you wanted to make the best of it. Though before you could build up further Leah slid in with a slightly late tackle, making you crash into the ground. “Shit, are you okay?” Leah was by your side instantly, her hand placed on your back as you fell face first onto the pitch. The referee blew the whistle for a free kick, while you answered her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Leah helped you up and patted your back. 

Sherida lined up to take the free kick, and you made your way into the penalty area with the rest of your teammates who had already made their way over. Since the game had been so even, without any shots on goal, this free kick from a promising position had to be taken advantage of. So, when the ball came soaring your way at the far post, you headed it with all the power and spin that you could give it. You didn’t see the ball hit the net, but by the eruption of the crowd you knew you had scored. Your teammates flooded in around you, patting your head and cheering you on. “Come on, let’s keep this up, ladies!” 

Sadly your lead on the opposition wasn’t for long as Alessia made the score not even two minutes after your goal. The half time whistle sounded and the score was still level as you made your way back into the tunnel. Time in the locker room flies by, after short pep-talk and some hydration, you head back onto the field. 

The sixtieth minute was coming closer and subs from both teams were warming up along the sidelines, getting ready to replace some of the tired legs on the field. The speed of the game seemed to pick up again after the substitutions were made, as England came charging forward. Beth tricked one of your defenders and the goalkeeper by making it seem like she was going to set up Alessia with the ball, but taking the shot herself. Her ball hit the back of the net, way out of reach for Daphne. 

Your team wanted to get the ball moving again quickly, waiting in the middle of the field for the whistle to blow. Luckily it didn’t take long for Daan to shoot the ball over the top, for Damaris to pick up. Damaris ran forwards as Mary came charging forward to get the ball, with one swift motion she lobbed the ball over the English goalkeeper, to once again make the score level. 

Both teams were fighting for the goal to put them ahead again, but as the minutes passed by, that goal didn’t seem to come. The ninety minutes had been played, you had just four more minutes of added time before you would have to go into extra time, something you really weren’t hoping for. You knew your teammates well and could see that they were exhausted from the match already. 

You were in the last minute of stoppage time when Vic managed a clean tackle earning her the ball. She looked up and kicked it to you, but you were quickly surrounded by England jerseys, so you passed the ball off to Esmee. The young player didn’t even look before lining up her shot, knowing that if she took her time she would be surrounded the same way as you were. You watched the ball fly into the penalty area where Viv and Damaris were ready to head the ball towards goal. It was Damaris who managed to connect her head to the ball. Time seemed to slow down as the ball moved towards the goal, and right over the tips of Mary’s stretched out hands. It sped up again once it hit the back of the net. 

Damaris ran to the  rest of the team at the sidelines, with all the players on the field following behind. Ending in one big group hug, with people jumping on each other, and tumbling over in excitement. A stoppage time goal to send you through to the semi-finals. 

Celebrating that moment with your team came first, but once you stepped away from the group, you looked for Leah instantly. You found her standing on the other side of the field, her hands on her thighs as she was leaning over in defeat. While you were happy for your team to make it to the next round, you were also gutted for her. 

You hug the England players you meet on your way to her, all of them being your friends as well, since you’ve been with Leah for years. When you made it to your girlfriend she had fallen onto her knees in the grass with tears falling down her face. You sit down on your knees in front of her and wrap your arms around her, “You played so well, darling.” You knew that no words were going to stop her from feeling this tough defeat, but you wanted her to know that she did good. “Made your team, and your country proud.” She buried her head into your chest, and you held her while rubbing your hands up and down her back. 

When Leah’s tears stopped flowing, the two of you sat down together. You wiped the tears of her cheeks, “I know that right now it might not feel like it, but you can be proud of yourself for your performance during this competition, both as an individual player, and the team captain. I know that I am, Leah, I am so proud of you.” 

Even though the defeat stung, Leah wanted to make sure that you knew that she was happy for you. “We’ll since we’re on the topic of being proud.” She started and you saw a slight smile appear on her face. “You did incredible, and you deserve to be a part of the final four. I am very proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself as well.” She hugs you tight, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

While playing against each other wasn’t easy, you knew that you would always be happy for the other, be supportive, and be proud of each other, no matter what. Your love for each other was bigger than the highs and lows of football.

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#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x you #lionesses #lionesses x reader #england lionesses #oranjeleeuwinnen #nedwnt #netherlands wnt #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #nedwnt x reader

[hoe4sports]

Caroline Graham Hansen | Discovering a new side (18++)

A/N: This is a mature +18 imagine. Do not read if you are under 18, easily triggered or in an unsafe place. The Spanish is taken directly from google translate, so do not judge the Spanish. You get the point.

TRIGGER WARNING: Semi angry, strap on, light spanking, riding, domination, mommy. All the warnings basically.

(IMAGINE STARTS UNDER GIF)

The referee blew the whistle signaling for the match to be over. The fans broke out it screams of Joy, and the home team was jumping together in a circle screaming about their victory. My girlfriend had just played a game against low ranked Scotland, and lost tremendously leaving their chances of the next World Cup in the trash. We both played on the national team; but i was currently not playing as my acl was causing me pain. Caroline would always take it very personally when Norway lost, and it didn’t help that she hadn’t been scoring goals with Barcelona lately either.

As the match was over some of the girls fell to the ground,. Aurora Mikalsen, Norway goalkeeper kicked the goal and chucked the ball out of sight. Everyone was finding ways to release their dissatisfaction, disappointment and imagining the dreaded headlines. Caroline was different. She would go quiet until she had processed what was wrong, and usually within a few hours she would be okay.

“Baby, come here” I said as I walked towards her on the field. She walked straight into me, and wrapped her arms around me for comfort. I looked up at the tall winger and she looked like she was dissociating. Dissociating was always her escape in times like this.

We walked into the warderobe where some of the girls were sobbing while others were trying to be as fast as possible. Gemma Grainger was Norway’s newest coach after the last coach had mentally ruined multiple of our star players. Gemma was a good woman and she was handed a national team that was a mess. “Girls, listen. We are allowed to feel sad right now. It’s okay, we need to process. Tomorrow, we start fresh. Our ranking has climbed from 12th best to 7th best. That’s something to be proud of. I want all of you, playing or not, to remember that you are the reason as to why we have skyrocketed the rankings.” she finished as the spirit in the group slightly brightened up.

As we got to the hotel, Caroline was watching the game on her phone. In a closer inspection, she was watching her mistakes over and over. When she finished, she jumped to the next game, watching all of her mistakes again and again and again. “Baby” I mumbled as I leaned towards the disappointed woman sitting in the chair by the desk looking more like an analyst than a player. “Maybe it’s time to put the phone away?” I suggested as I kissed the back of her neck lightly. No response. “Caz, how about some food?” I suggested as I kissed her cheek. “Caroline, perha-“ I started as she cut me off by turning around. “No Y/N, I need to figure out why I am not working!! I need to find a solution to this problem or I will end up never playing again!” She screamed as her eyes moved over to the phone again. I sighted, Caroline wasn’t one to yell and I had probably only heard her yell 2-3 times within the time we had been together. Strangely enough, I always felt a burning sensation between my legs as she showed her more, let’s say dominant side. That side only came out when she was angry and would yell. I decided to push my luck, and tried again. “Baby.. Let’s try to decided what to-“ I started as I once again was cut off by her turning the chair around to face me. “I said no, I don’t want too. Stop being so fucking annoying before..” she screamed, but stopped as her eyes got glued back to the screen to see herself appear in the picture. I wanted to rest my luck. I wanted us to have rough sex. To have her be dominant. Assertive. In charge. But she would always be careful and sweet, and I loved that. But sometimes..

“Baby, take it out on me please..” I whispered in her ear as I let out a quiet moan. She didn’t respond, but I could sense that she was tensing up. “Baby, use me, please.. I can take it, I can make it feel better..” I continued as I could see her focus become less and less sharp. “Will you please take it out on me, baby? I’ll be a good girl for you.. ” I whispered seductively while letting my hands slip her shoulders and under her shirt to reach for her breasts. She broke contact as she turned around and looked up at me. It was almost like her eyes had shifted to something darker, like her lust was pouring out of her eyes. Her breathing was heavier and I could tell that she was looking at my breasts. She was definitely a booby girl rather than booty. Lucky for me, as my boobs were bigger than the standard football player’s chest. I could tell that she was considering letting go, and I needed to act quick.

“Amor, por favor desquitate conmigo. Usa mi cuerpo, puedo soportarlo. Por favor, úsame hasta que te sientas mejor.” (Love, please take it out on me. Use my body, i can take it. Pretty please, use me until you feel better. )

Her eyes sharpened as she dropped her phone. “Como quieras princesa” (as you wish princess) she said as her voice sounded lower than before. She stood up from the desk chair, and with one motion; she picked me up and forced my legs around her waist with her hands resting on my ass.

“Seré muy bueno contigo, lo prometo.”(I'll be so good for you, i promise.) I whispered in her ear as I scratched her back with my nails. She let out a small moan, and laid me with my back facing down on the bed. She crawled over me, so that she was practically on top of me. I sent her my “fuck me” look and she sweared under her breath as her hands started exploring my waistline. She leaned down and kissed me softly before a grabbed her hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugged on it forcing a moan out of her lips.

“No princesa, ahora estoy a cargo” (No princess, i'm in charge now.) she said as she looked down on me forcing me to let go of her hair. I nodded, and she went back in for another kiss leaning herself on her toned tanned arms. She touched my lips with her tongue forcing it inside to dominate mine. I moaned softly into her mouth as I couldn’t simply get enough. This was all I had dreamed about for the last year, and finally she let her dominating nature out. I could feel her hand loosing the strings on my pants.

All of a sudden, she flipped me around on my belly and yanked the pants off of me. I gasped as my wet thong came into contact with the cold air. On my back, I had her name as I was still wearing her jersey from the game. She was massaging my ass violently as she moaned. “Fuck baby, my jersey.” She moaned as she tugged on the jersey. “Yes baby, I made sure to let everyone know that I belong to you” I said as I could feel her hand stroking the back of the jersey where her name was located.

“Eso es correcto. Todos ustedes me pertenecen, baby” (That's correct. All of you belong to me.) she said in a low voice as she started kissing my neck from behind while pulling on my hair. “Are you gonna be good?” she asked as she grabbed one of my boobsfrom behind forcing me to moan. “Yes, I’m gonna be so good. So good.” I obeyed as she pulled my hair tighter. “Let’s test just how good you are then, princesa.” she growled as she let go of my hair and body to stand up. She pulled me up from the bed and carried me to the desk, laying me with my ass over the desk.

Suddenly, her hand made contact with my ass. That itself was enough to send me over the edge. I moaned out loud as she grabbed my ass pulling it upwards towards her. “Be a good girl for me, and stay still.” She growled in my ear as she had me pulled back by my hair. Fuck, this was really going as I had hoped. I loved this new side of her leaving me wanting to obey everything she would request me to do.

I stayed still trying to move my hips in the hopes my red lacy thong would relieve me of some pressure. Caroline was rumbling around the room and I wanted so bad to turn around to see what she was doing, but I wanted to be good for her. I had imagined this the day I purchased a double sided strap on. The one for the giver was shorter and upwards, while the one for the receiver was longer and wider. Let’s just agree that I had a clear vision in mind when I purchased it a few months back.

I was standing bent over the desk as I could feel Caroline coming back for me. She smacked my ass again, and I moaned louder than ever before. “Oh, fuck baby, I need you” I whimpered in hopes of her long fingers making their appearance. Instead, I was surprised by the strap on I had purchased going full force inside my pussy from behind instantly hitting the sweet spot. “AH, fuck baby, yes please” I screamed out in pleasure as I held on to the desk. No time to adjust. I knew from the treatment on my ass that I was already close. “Fuck babygirl, you are taking it so well.” Caroline moaned out as stopped without any warning. She lifted one of my legs up on the chairs next to the desk. “My perfect girl, wearing red lacy underwear underneath my jersey for a whole day without letting me know” she whispered in my ear sending chills down my spine. Her hand was barely touching my folds through my panties making me desperate for her.

As I was about to whine, she went in with the strap at full force going even deeper than before. Her hips thrusting harder and deeper with every trust. I could feel the tension growing in my abdomen, and I instantly knew what was about to come. “Caz, I’m so close, I’m gonna cu-“ I started as I was cut of by my own orgasm making an entrance. She pulled out immediately.

“Te dije que te corrieras princesa o eras una chica mala?” (Did i tell you to cum princess, or were you a bad girl?) she growled as she turned me around and looked straight into my eyes. I couldn’t help myself but look at her soaked pussy with the double strap. “yo era una chica mala” (I was a bad girl) I replied with attitude forcing her eyes to widen as she let out a quiet moan.

She picked me up again, and practically threw me on the bed. She ripped off my tiny panties and I moaned as I could feel the cold air make contact with my throbbing pussy. As I was enjoying the cold sensation with my eyes closed, I hadn’t discovered that Caroline had positioned herself with her head between my legs. My eyes opened up as she entered my sensitive pussy with her tongue licking my folds and nibbling on my clit. “Ah, Caroline, more please” I moaned as I gripped the sheets while she continued exploring my insides. Her tongue started throbbing in and out of my walls. “AH, more daddy, more!” I screamed out in pleasure as she continued not realising what I had just said. She responded with her thumb rubbing my clit while her soft tongue pushed in and out of me. “Ah, baby, I’m gonna have to cum” I moaned as I arched my back. “Beg babygirl” she responded as I noticed that I was barely able to talk. “I can’t hear you” she repeated, and I moaned again. “Please, I need to cum. I have to cum, please let me cum in your mouth daddy.” I cried out as I grabbed her hair and tugged on it. “Do it for me baby” and with that I came hard, I squirted on her face and buckled my hips upwards. She grabbed my hips, and forced them down again as she glared at me. “MINE” she growled as she started licking up all my squirt.

When she had gotten every last drop, she laid down besides me and propped me on top of her. This was new. She looked into my eyes and brushed my hair behind my ear. “¿Cuánto puedes tomar antes de venir princesa?” (How much can you take before you cum princess) she whispered as I swallowed. “As much as you need me too.” I said as she kissed my head and dragged me out of bed. She put me on my knees as she stood with her strap levelled with my mouth. I looked up at her with the most seductive look that I could, and with that she took the strap and held it infront of my lips.

“Chupa la polla de daddy ahora, princesa. Muéstrame lo desesperada que estás por mí.” (Suck daddy’s cock now, princess. Show me how desperate you are for me.) She growled as she touched my lips with the tip of her cock. I didn’t even realise that I had called her daddy, I just obeyed. I opened my mouth and she put it in, gagging me as she held my hair and pounded it in my mouth. I sucked her off as she was eyeing me as I was gagging.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close” she stunned as she threw her head backwards. And I stopped. Her head flashed towards me and her eyes was even more lustful. “You need to be punished.” she moaned as she pulled me up on my feet by pulling my hair. She then picked me up as she sat herself on the bed and laid back. Leaving me sitting on top of her.

She grabbed the cock forcing her to moan as the giver cock moved with the receiver part. She rubbed the cock along my folds before inserting it. “Ride me, babygirl. Show me how it’s done. Let me cum first.” and I? I obeyed as I started bouncing on her cock giving friction to the part inside of her. She moaned loudly as her breathing was becoming heavier. I picked up the pace, and my boobs were now bouncing ruthlessly. She looked at me, and forced me to lay forwards so she could reach my boobs with her mouth while still riding her. She put my nipple in her mouth and used her other hand to massage the other boob.

I could see her starting to shiver meaning that she was close as I kept riding getting closer and closer to my own edge. “Ah, baby, yes, yes, don’t stop, be a good girl now, let daddy cum” she stunned as I continued. Her cries were stopped by herself moaning so loud that I was worried that the neighbours was gonna hear her. “Ah, fuck, yes!” I looked at her “I’m gonna cum, baby”. I said as I felt my insides tensing up again. “No, I’m gonna cum first. Keep going, baby.” She commanded and I swore I was about to have my eyes roll back into my head.

I was slowing the pace down as I was so close and so sensitive, but Caroline was in charge and she started bouncing her hips picking the pace up. “Oh my god!” I yelled as she thrusted deeper and deeper with ever move. She was working her hips in ways I had never imagined. “Say my name babygirl.” She commanded. “Ah, yes, yes , Caroline please, please let me come!” I screamed loudly as she moaned. “No” she growled, “the other name.” And then it clicked for me. “Yes, daddy, yes please let me cum!!” I screamed as she was shaking, trying to hold herself back from coming. “Please,” I screamed “only you can make me cum like this! Fuck, Caroline!” I screamed on the top of my lungs as I was a second away from cuming. “Cum for me princess” Caroline growled as i came all over her cock in sync with her orgasm. She slowly stopped thrusting by going slower and slower with every move until our synched orgasms were over. We passed out next to each other, and I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

I turned to face her, and noticed that she looked a little bit taken back by her newly discovered side. We were both pretty out of breath as we laid next to each other. We had talked about boundaries one time when she was drunk, and agreed on a colour system if we ever needed one. She was laying on her back, staring upwards. “Color?” I suggested. “Orange” she motioned back. I jumped up immediately, and helped her unbuckle. Orange was different to us then to others. We had traffic light systems for during and after sex. Green was no aftercare needed, Orange was that aftercare was highly wanted and red was that aftercare was pretty much required. I kissed her forehead, and rushed to the bathroom as I turned on the water to the bathtub. I grabbed a cold water from the fridge and dragged her along with me to the bathroom. She sat down first in the tub, and I sat down behind her guiding her to drink from the waterbottle. She relaxed in my arms as I kissed her head. I kept repeating how much I loved her, how beautiful she was and that she was safe. After a few mins of cuddles, she got back to herself. “Hi baby” I said as I smiled while she looked up on me. She smiled back. “Thank you baby.” She muttered and I hugged her tight. We sat in the tub for a while until she was ready to go to bed. As we turned around to walk to the bedroom, she tossed her jersey at me. “I like you better with my name” she said as she smiled knowing that one day, I was gonna have her lastname.

#caroline graham hansen #woso imagine #smut

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Thank you for clearing up the recycling thing, I was in Wales for two weeks staying with my aunt and my biggest concern in life was the fucking recycling, it really did seem life or death! Now I’m in Ireland and I expected it to be the same but here it’s much more “ah do your best, it’s whatever”

Yeah, the EU did the Waste Directive years back, and the UK then had to create its own legislation to meet those targets. And Scotland and Northern Ireland and England went "Okay, do your best" and Wales went "LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE SHITS, WE'RE GIVING YOU SET TARGETS AND IF YOU DON'T MEET THEM WE WILL DECIMATE EVERY COUNCIL"

So we're WAY ahead of our recycling targets. The only UK nation to reach the minimum 50% recycling target in 2020 set by the EU. The only UK nation to keep up its recycling rate during the pandemic. Best in the UK for the last ten years. Second best in Europe. Third best in the world.

True Welsh culture now is visiting friends and family in England and loudly going WHERE IS YOUR PLASTIC RECYCLING, SUSAN. SUSAN. SUSAN WHY DON'T YOU HAVE DOOR-TO-DOOR COMPOSTING. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY FOOD WASTE, SUSAN. HOW DO YOU LIVE LIKE THIS.

#I am not popular among my English family #asks #WALES! #closed for cleaning on mondays

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

It was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, to look in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome to Sherlock Holmes, for they enabled him to keep in touch with all that was going on at the police head-quarters. In return for the news which Lestrade would bring, Holmes was always ready to listen with attention to the details of any case upon which the detective was engaged, and was able occasionally, without any active interference, to give some hint or suggestion drawn from his own vast knowledge and experience. ("The Six Napoleons")

Okay, so in short ... they are gossiping. XD

#sherlock holmes #lestrade #acd canon #the six napoleons #letters from watson

[silverameco]

Travel AU - @wolfstarmicrofic - 698 words

CW : suicide joke, implied past abuse

It was a normal friday night. They had a marauders' gathering, but Prongs and Wormy left quite early, like they tended to do these days. So it was just him and Moony. Sirius couldn't be bothered. They were smoking weed on the windowshill. Sirius always loved Remus' apartment because it was close to the train station, and you could hear and see the trains. Sirius found it soothing.

"Do you ever just watch a train about to leave and think 'what if I get into it' ?" he asked randomly.

They were always having weirdly deep conversations when they smoked together. Sirius loved it.

"Err- not really ?" Remus answered, but it was more a question than anything.

"I used to think that all the time when I was still living with my parents. Anywhere better than there, y'know ?"

Remus nodded and gave him a comforting smile. Just enough to make him know he was listening, not enough to make him feel pressured to say more, or weird for oversharing. Just perfect, like it always was with Remus.

"Well, I mean, it was either that or the urge to jump under the train." he joked.

"Oh my god, Sirius !" Remus said with a startled kind of laugh and wide eyes like he didn't know if he was supposed to laugh or not.

But Sirius chuckled so Remus visibly relaxed and huffed, before turning his gaze out the window. Sirius kept looking at him. The night breeze was softly messing up his curls, and the moonlight made his features look softer than usual. He was even more soothing to look at than the trains.

"Where would you even go?"

"Mh ?" Sirius didn't listen, too enraptured by his observation.

Remus looked at him once again and suddendly, Sirius realized how close they were. Their legs were touching because the windowshill wasn't designed for two grown men to sit on it.

"If you took a train. Where would you go ?"

"Anywhere. That's the good thing. The adventure." he spoke the last part with a wild kind of grin which made Remus smile back. So he felt positively adventurous and didn't stop there.

"You know what ? We should do it. Take a train."

"What ?" Remus asked in disbelief.

But Sirius was on a ride that couldn't be stopped. "Yes ! Just, any train, as soon as there is one."

Remus just laughed. "You're mad. You're actually mad. I don't even know if there's any train leaving London we could take. It's literally two o'clock."

"So ? I don't see what the issue is." And then, making sure to look Remus in the eyes and to pout just a little. "Come on, Moony. Don't you want to go on an adventure with me ? It'd be just you and me."

He saw a furtive glint in Remus' eyes at the last part and knew he won. In fact, his friend took out his phone and seemed to be looking for something on it for a few seconds. Sirius was hooked on whatever he was going to say next.

"There is only one train with seats available. It takes off at 6 and goes to some random ass village in Scotland."

Sirius leaned forward, closer to Remus, and whispered, "Let's take it". Remus smiled and whispered back, "Okay, Pads. Let's do it."

After that, Sirius' smile couldn't be larger. He took a drag and blowed the smoke in Remus' face, who swatted at him. That was going to be a good trip.

That's how, four hours later, they found themselves on an old train, ready to leave for Scotland. The seats were rather small so their thighs were touching. Neither were making any effort to keep them apart. They hadn't slept so Sirius was dozing off on Remus' shoulder. In his sleepy and drug clouded mind, everything was perfect.

"Dear travelers, welcome aboard this train to Hogsmeade station, Scotland."

#this has been on my mind for days #i just didn't have time to write it #also this is inspired by my own apartment from which you can see trains #i don't even know if it's possible in London but idc #silv writes things #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

[thecomfortgoth]

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Nic, Scotland, 28 years old. Slightly obsessed with Stranger Things. I love music (listening to and making/playing, I play a few instruments and sing), nerdy shit, witchy shit, fashion, all types of animals (especially the floofy ones) photography and travelling. Never made a masterlist before, so I hope that this is okay and doesn't look too unprofessional lol

Mostly will be writing for Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Steddie and Billy Hargrove.

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Requests/asks are open!

❤️ - Smut ✨ - Fluff 🥺 - Angst

Eddie Munson

Oneshots

Kiss from a Rose ❤️✨- Eddie uses a rose vibrator on you and you try your hardest to be quiet so your roommates don't hear you.. but is Eddie really going to let that happen?

Always and Forever✨ - You've been having a really tough time lately. But your hopeless romantic, goofy boyfriend Eddie is about to make everything a whole lot better and take your mind off things.

Series

Coming soon!

Steve Harrington

Coming soon!

Billy Hargrove

Coming soon!

Steddie x Reader

Oneshots

Coming soon!

Series

Peeping Tom ❤️ - You're behind the school with your boyfriend Eddie making out, things get a little hot and heavy.. and then you see that someone is watching you..

Please read the CW at the start of each chapter.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 coming soon

Blurbs/drabbles/headcanons

Eye of The Storm (Steve Harrington X Reader) ✨🥺 - You have a panic attack and Steve is there to help you through it (requested)

Sleepy Steddie Bedtime blurb (Steddie X Reader) ❤️ - just a lil bit of sleepy sex with two of my favourite boyfriends

TOTM/Being sick headcanons (Eddie, Steve and Billy) ✨- how The Boys(tm) would react and how they’d each individually take care of you

#masterlist #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson stranger things #steve harrington stranger things #eddie fluff #eddie smut #steve fluff #steve smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fluff #steddie x you #steddie #steddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #billy hargrove fanfic #fanfic #eddie fanfic #steve fanfic #billy fanfic #steddie fanfic

[greenthena]

The Eldritch Ball or Aziraphale's Macabre Danse

I'm a huge sucker for dark classical music (I'm using the term "classical" broadly, not referring to the specific period. Music-y folks, please forgive.) As such, Saint-Saëns's "Danse Macabre" is one of my all time favorite pieces. It's spooky. It's intentionally dissonant. It's even got a jump scare! Like, literally, the perfect piece of music.

The story behind "Danse Macabre" goes like this: Each Halloween at midnight, Death enters the graveyard with a fiddle. As he plays, the skeletons rise from the ground and dance through the cemetery, resurrected by Death's power and possessed by his instrument.

In S2 E3, the Bentley plays "Danse Macabre" as Aziraphale drives up to Edinburgh. "What do we do? We play classical music that stays classical music." (And the Bentley listens to him! Because the Bentley is an expression of Crowley's subconscious and wants to please him and make him happy...and I'm sure you can find lots of excellent metas to that end. Or maybe you have another theory about why the Bentley is so pliant toward the angel? I'd love to hear it. But that's not what I'm talking about right now. I'm just getting distracted.)

Why is this song so perfect for a bit of subtle foreshadowing and repeated metaphor? So glad you asked. I have reasons. And evidence. Please, peruse my wares.

In the A Plot of this episode, Aziraphale travels to Scotland to visit a pub called The Resurrectionist. (Ya know, like Death? Like how Death resurrects people in the song? Okay, just wanted to really hit that nail into the coffin.) The pub is, of course, named for a certain Mr. (not Dr., he's a surgeon) Dalrymple, whom Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the accompanying flashback minisode entitled (you'll never guess) "The Resurrectionist." The minisode plot involves Crowley and his the angel encountering young Elspeth, a grave robber who, like Death, releases the bodies of the deceased from their earthly bonds of soil and stone. My interpretation is that Elspeth becomes Death incarnate, first in the process of using her instrument (her shovel) to resurrect the dead, and later when she inadvertently brings about the literal death of her partner, Wee Morag. Rather than allow Wee Morag's body to turn to dust in the ground, Elspeth "resurrects" her, selling her body to Dr. Dalrymple (sorry, Mr. Dalrymple, he's a surgeon, not a doctor), who will use Wee Morag's body for research, which will in turn save the lives of countless others by furthering the field of medicine. A form of resurrection, indeed. There's also the plot thread of Crowley and Aziraphale providing Elspeth with a nest egg to escape the cycle of poverty into which she has been born. This, too, is another form of re-birth. Or, say it with me, resurrection. Alright, you're getting it now.

Okay, now I get to delve into the fun stuff. Let's talk about that cotillion ball, shall we? You know, that danse party where Aziraphale persuades all the shopkeepers on Whickber street to attend a Jane Austen-style ball?

I personally refer to this whole fiasco experience as the Eldritch Ball. On the surface, it seems fairly innocent. The shopkeepers need a little bit of encouragement to attend the Whickber Street monthly meeting, but the angel manages to convince everyone to join with the help of some coercion-via-bribery. When they show up, they're transmuted into Austen-esque characters, from their clothes, to their speech patterns, even to some extent, their perception of reality. This is where it starts to get a little uncomfortable if you peel back the layers. Mrs. Sandwich can't talk about what she does for a living, which is a great comedy bit, but also demonstrates that her speech is being significantly censored and altered by an outside force. With the exception of Mr. Brown (hidden agendas here, Neil? I honestly don't know), all the shopkeepers find themselves in new, slightly-period-appropriate garments. What's really weird, though, is that no one notices the changes. When the dancing begins, to the music of Mr. Anderson's piano and an accompanying string quartet (strings...as in violins...as in fiddles. Remember Death's fiddle?), Nina appears to be the only one who realizes that something is off.

Maggie: This is something new.

Nina: This is something completely bonkers. Are we...? Why is everyone talking like they've escaped from Pride and Prejudice?

Maggie: Just getting into the spirit of things, I suppose.

Nina: The spirit of what things? This is meant to be the shopkeeper association monthly meeting.

Maggie: Hmm. Yes. Now that you put it like that...

Nina: Are we dancing?

Maggie: Yes.

Nina: Did you ever learn the steps to this dance?

Maggie: It's just what we do, isn't it?

Nina: No. No, it isn't. This is something mad. This is their [Crowley & Azirapahle's] fault. They're doing this.

Something is definitely mad. One might even say it's macabre. Aziraphale has become Death the Resurrectionist. He has lured the shopkeepers of Whickber Street through a portal (as Death leads his flock from the world of the dead to the world of the living.) Aziraphale's instrument is his clipboard and pen, held almost as one might hold a fiddle and bow, as he invites the various shopkeepers to the monthly meeting. Once they all arrive, he miraculously gives them new clothes (as Death knits together the bones of the dead), and then proceeds to control their bodies and minds, as though they are merely marionettes. They dance and speak in the way Aziraphale imagines, fulfilling his fantasy of a perfect Jane Austen-style ball (quite literally, the Danse Macabre.)

The shopkeepers have become the dead and Aziraphale controls them until the spell is broken--or rather until the window is broken.

To be honest, I don't think Aziraphale is really aware of how much he is able to transfigure his environment, including the humans who happen to be close by. Or, at least, I don't believe he does any of this with ill intent. He's just a bit blind to anything outside his fixation of wooing Crowley, at the moment. As a result, he creates a situation that is profoundly problematic and unnatural. Just like the dead in the graveyard have no agency when Death plays his fiddle, the Whickber Street shopkeepers are possessed by Aziraphale's intricate romantic fantasy and must dance as long as the music plays.

It is, in fact, only when the music stops, that the shopkeepers begin to realize that something is most certainly weird. The diagetic music (Mr. Anderson & Co.) abruptly cuts off when an approaching demon horde tosses a brick through the bookshop window. Now the spell, or in this case, miracle, begins to break down. While the shopkeepers still appear to be somewhat under the influence of Aziraphale's persuasive aura, a few of them glance down at their clothes in confusion and look around the bookshop, as though waking from a dream. And at this point, after a little finagling, Crowley escorts the humans out of the bookshop and out of Aziraphale's Danse Macabre.

Once the demons attack the bookshop Aziraphale's influence on his surroundings really starts to deteriorate. Throughout the season, he's been able to structure and manipulate reality (sometimes with Crowley's help) to suit his needs: protecting Gabriel, altering the Bentley, organizing the Ball, etc. But once the bookshop, his safe space, has been breached, he loses control of the situation. From this point in the narrative, nothing goes according to Aziraphale's plan. Aziraphale wants to protect Jimbriel, but the former archangel insists on giving himself over to the demons. Crowley leaves and Aziraphale has to defend the bookshop on his own, when he'd expected Crowley to come right back and save him. While defending the bookshop, Aziraphale reaches his "last" resort not once, but twice: first allowing Nina and Maggie to use his books (!!!) as weapons and then blowing up his halo in a last ditch effort to fend off the invaders. This was not on the agenda for today!

Things just continue to go downhill from there, Aziraphale losing all control of the situation. And by the time the Final Fifteen wraps up, the angel has lost his bookshop and possibly his most important relationship. By the end of the season, Aziraphale is no longer Death the Resurrectionist, the manipulator and puppeteer. Now the angel has become the puppet, dancing to Heaven's music.

#good omens #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley #go metas #good omens meta #danse macabre #camille saint saëns #the bentley #nina and maggie #eldritch ball #elspeth #wee morag #dark music #Youtube

[fallinforerling]

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. PART 6 - jb

A/N: I enjoyed SO much writing this, you have no idea. I hope all you love it was much as I did. See you next update! Also, I strongly recommed to listen to the song right when I marked it :) Makes it all better. AND, this is the last part without Jude in it, so prepare!

ೃ⁀➷ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

ೃ⁀➷ series/jude's taglist : ̗̀➛ my other taglists

: ̗̀➛ REQUESTS ARE OPEN !

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˛ * 。° 。 •˚.・。.・゜✭・.⋆·˚ ༘ .・。.・゜✭・..・。.・

“You can't keep going like this, honey” Mia said after you calmed down and allowed yourself to tell the whole phone call at your pace. “You need to get out of this city for a couple of days, clear your mind, go no phone and then come back to your normal life.”

 “Mia's right. I haven't seen you this stressed and emotionally drained... ever. This isn't you. I won't allow one of my best friends to lose herself to a breakup.” Nikki said, giving you your second cup of tea of the morning.

“I know...” You didn't have the energy to think about anything else other than how much your life had changed in so little time. “But where can I go? What you guys have in mind sounds like a spiritual retirement.”

“Well... I know someone who owns a very nice cabin in Scotland...” Nikki shrugged when both you and Mia raised your eyebrows, questioning once again what was that about. “I make a lot of friends, okay?”

“We know” Mia shortly laughed, directing her full attention back to you. “So, what do you say? Does a week in Scotland sound like a bad or a good idea?”

“At this point?” You said, pointing at yourself: you had a cover over your shoulders, a cup of tea in your hands, and a puffy face thanks to all the crying. “Anything is better than this”

“You drink that, I'll make some calls” At this point, Nikki's phone seemed to have all the wonders of the world inside of it.

“One day, I'll be able to figure out how she does all of this,” Mia whispered, grabbing your cup. “Do you want something to eat?”

“Soup?” Besides the anger and sadness that came back with force, the three of you were still hungover. You felt like your head was about to explode from all the pressure.

“You got it”

While she was in the kitchen and Nikki was out on the balcony doing who knows what, you allowed yourself to go back to your room. Your phone was now charging on the night stand. Better to keep ignoring it.

The room was still messy, and even though you really wanted to go back to bed, cleaning seemed like a better option to keep your mind occupied.

The clothes were all dirty so you instantly dropped them inside your basket, reminding yourself to wash them later. Then you made sure all of the other things were at their place before making the bed. The bathroom was the nastiest part (lots of makeup wipes, cotton pads full of micellar water and a wet sink) but you cleaned it all faster than expected.

When you came back to the bedroom, you noticed your phone was buzzing again. It sure wasn't IG, since you silenced it. You came closer, relieved and concerned when you saw Jobe's name on the screen.

“Please God, some peace...” You said before picking up. “Hey?”

“Hey! Uh, I don't want to be, like, intrusive or anything but... Do you know what's going on with Jude?"

“Uhm... Be more specific.” Because you could think of a hundred+ things going on with that man right now.

“He's throwing a tantrum… I mean, not like a toddler type of tantrum, but he's fuming! He asked me for my phone and didn't want to say what for. I said no, of course, and then he got even worse. He's saying something about needing some way to communicate…” His voice became a whisper. “Would I be wrong assuming that is definitely something about you?”

You let out a sigh, feeling drained. Again.

“Yeah, it's about me” You sat on your vanity, rubbing your eyes. “Look, I went out yesterday with some friends and I happened to run into Gio… We took a photo and then some stupid people filmed us dancing. It went a bit viral, I think. I don't really know. Jude saw it and called me all morning until I picked up after waking up. He was asking me why I was with Gio and why I didn't tell him”

“That's insane, mate. What the fuck, he has no right to do that”

“I know! Well, he was calling to question me. It seems like some people are assuming that I'm Gio's girlfriend. I don't know if it's about his man ego getting hurt by me being mistaken for his teammate's girl or what, but I don't want to know anything else about it. So I blocked him.”

“Well, fuck me! His audacity has me speechless…”

“I don't want this to turn into a big thing. Just... Let him throw his little tantrum, he's going back to Dortmund in a few days anyways. He has to forget about it”

“You sound like the one that broke up with him, that's so funny” He laughed quietly, probably not wanting to call the attention of his brother. “Okay, I'll try to keep him on track”

“Thanks... And, Jobe?” You said, feeling more than grateful for having him.

“Yeah?”

“I won't have my phone this week, so don't get worried if you don't hear from me, okay?”

“Okay… Uh, I know this is stupid to ask, but are you still coming to my match? I'll understand if you don't. It's completely understandable with all that's happening”

A part of you wanted to say no, but it was Jobe. It wasn't fair to do that to him. Maybe Jude wasn't going to attend. You were praying for that.

“Of course I'll go. I promised you, and you know how much I want to see you play”

“Thank you” You could tell he was happy about you saying yes. “Talk to you in a week, then?”

“One hundred percent”

After the call ended, you just sat there. Jobe was like your little brother, and maybe his actual brother was the biggest asshole you'd ever known, but that didn't mean you were about to run away from everything that had to do with him.

You weren't a coward. Hopefully.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

song recommendation: cardigan - taylor swift

Leaving your phone at the bottom of your bag and not paying any attention to it was easier than expected. Nikki managed to book flights to Glasgow that same night, and while they were gone to make their bags, you stayed to clean up a little bit more the whole apartment. You were leaving for a week. You noticed that it was the first time that you did your bags in months where your destiny wasn’t Dortmund. 

You grabbed comfy clothes, your laptop and tablet (you still worked from home), and some shower products. Most of your skincare was in the bathroom, but some were in the vanity. While looking for some travel-sized ones, you stumbled across a particular box in the bottom drawer. 

It was blue, medium-sized and simple. Your hand flew directly to your neck, where a necklace rested comfortably. The jade stone was cold, as cold as you felt. You didn’t even realized you were still wearing it, but of course, you never took it off since the day it was gifted to you.

Since Jude gifted it to you. 

You thought about taking it off, but you stopped mid-way. You didn’t feel ready to do something like that just yet. That necklace alone meant so much to you. 

The way he gave it to you wasn’t absurdly romantic, but rather sweet. It was familiar. You were laying in bed, just looking at each other; then he got up and grabbed the little box from his closet. He said he saw it and immediately thought of you; of how well it went with your skin tone and than he was sorry for not giving it to you in a more romantic way. You loved it from the moment you saw it. You used to feel so happy when you remembered it was hanging from your neck.

Now all you feel is a deeply nostalgic feeling that makes the skin around the pendant burn.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Nikki's friend was kind enough to lend you a beautiful cabin in the woods for the week. He (or she, you weren't even sure of their gender) even sent a butler to pick you up from the airport and drive you around town so you could buy groceries. The drive to the cabin, he said, was almost two hours, but the whole scenario- the woods, the lake, the little animals running around- made it easier for all of you to not care about that. It was perfect.

The cabin was even better. It wasn’t exaggeratedly large, so you wouldn’t be bumping into each other the entire time but neither separated if didn't want to, which was good. You needed the space to think and heal alone, even if you loved the company of your friends. 

The first two days were just you hanging around the house, making food, taking walks around the woods- Mia even discovered a tiny lake near the cabin, and lots of bonfires. It felt therapeutic to not know what was going on in the real world outside that cabin surrounded by kilometers of trees. 

You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed nature and being (partially) alone this much. You also spent a lot of time alone in the woods or by the lake; you allowed yourself to cry, to mourn Jude, to blame him and then forgiving him. You didn’t forgave him for how much you were suffering the breakup, not just yet, that was still fresh. But you forgave him for breaking up with you, he had all the right to that. 

You remembered all the good times you had together, the bad ones, the regular ones. It was a normal relationship even if you didn’t get to post his face on your social media, or if your dates had to be more private than normal people were used to. You loved him. You still did, even if you hated the idea of being weak because of your love. 

And then, after all those days that you used to go through all the stages of a breakup, something you didn’t allow yourself to do the past three weeks, you were ready to let him go. To accept that your boyfriend, the one that loved you and appeared to be your soulmate, died the night he broked your heart. And that was okay. 

So on the last afternoon before the butler came back for the three of you, you took a final walk through the woods and into the lake, and like physically detaching Jude from your heart, you took off the necklace and throwed it into the water.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * TAGLIST

@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss @mbapbaesluvr | @erensfavgirly | @cinderellawithashoe @yoitsmo07

#jude #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #judebellingham #jude bellingham #borussia dortmund #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fic #footballer fics #footballer fic #footballer blurb #footballer fanfiction #footballfics #jb22 #jude x you #jude x y/n #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham angst #footballer fanfic #football fanfic #football fic #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer x you

[pappydaddy]

the tales of the infatuated (o.w.)

a/n: i am back and (hopefully) ready to write lovelies!

tv show/movie: harry potter

pairing: oliver wood x fem!shy!gyffindor!reader

requested

part one - there are parallels so read this one first please!

description: tales of oliver and y/n's relationship following the events of the woes of the highly overdramatic

warning: the reader is shy and beats herself up about it (slightly). please, as a shy person myself, never think being shy is bad or wrong in any way. being shy is 100% okay!

note: reader wears a lot of scarves and uses them to kind of hide when embarrassed.

taglist: @just-here-to-escape-reality | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @onyourgoddamnleft | @rootbeerfaygo | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @spring-picnics | @lonely-simp | @slytherinambitiouss

a line through your user means i could not tag you for whatever reason! if you possibly changed your user, let me know and i will fix it on my taglist

masterlist | taglist | navigation

-not my gif -

�� The air was filled with a sort of muddy smell. The kind of smell only found enjoyable since it meant spring was attacking the bitter cold, thawing the ground and bringing life back to the rather lifeless hills of Scotland. Oliver never really noticed the beauty within the changing of the seasons, all he noticed was that one day the scenery looked one way and the next it was different. Now, as he sat there, a warm cup of tea between his large, rough hands, listening to Y/N’s soft and naturally quiet voice talk about the changes in the season, he finally realized it was more than just disappearing snow or dying leaves. 

  “And look there, you see the small buds on that tree right outside the shop,” Y/N gasped quietly, her arm shooting out to point to the tree that was once sagging under the weight of the snow. “Look how small, but in a few weeks time, those will be beautifully coloured, large leaves full of life.” She hummed, hand nestling back on her own teacup. 

  Oliver looked from the window, towards her, eyes flicking over her face as she stared out the window in sheer amazement. Suddenly, the stubborn and slightly obsessed Gryffindor Quidditch Captain that normally oozes self-confidence and never does anything at leisure, found himself slowing down and enjoying it. Enjoying the seconds ticking by when he wasn’t working on plays. Enjoying the hours he has spent just looking at nature (and Y/N) and listening to her. Her voice was a little shaky and quiet, but it was the most beautiful sound to him. Even better than the sound of the crowd cheering whenever the Gryffindor team won another game. 

  Even in the moments of silence as she just existed, sipping her tea as she basked in his company. For someone who was so used to hanging around rambunctious and loud Quidditch players, he never thought silence and stillness could be so welcoming. Sure, being friends with Percy, he found himself surrounded by silence as Percy read in his presence, but Oliver would always do his own thing. It was never silent because his head was always busy and loud. Now, with Y/N, his brain was quiet. It was kind of comforting. 

  “Reckon we should make a quick trip to Honeydukes before it gets busy?” Oliver asked gently, not to startle her as he pulled her from her thoughts. A smile stretched onto her face, soft eyes sparking at him in the late afternoon spring sun. There was a sweet spot to visit the popular candy store. He had never thought of it before, he always just went to Honeydukes. It wasn’t until their relationship hit the four month mark that he noticed. 

  They had been out strolling around Hogsmeade. It was relatively quiet along the cobblestone streets as they walked in comfortable silence, Y/N’s eyes seeming to admire the world around them in awe - as if this was her first time in Hogsmeade. Oliver found his eyes glued to the corners, watching her, his heart thumping in a way that both calmed him and scared him. The noise of the rambunctious groups pooling in and out of Honeydukes made her stutter in her steps, her body stiffening as her eyes shifted to the large crowd. 

  His own eyes shifting from her, he observed the ruckus without panic, but it was obvious she was. As they slowly sauntered closer to the mass of people, her body seemed to become more stiff, her pace slowing. “Hey, how about we just sit on this bench here? I kinda want to just sit without for a little bit.” Oliver suggested, gesturing to a bench that sat not far from them. 

  She looked at it, open-mouthed, before looking back at Oliver. “But it’s covered in snow,” She blinked up at him. Oliver shrugged, walking over to it. She followed easily, their joined hands keeping them attached. “Are you sure, Oliver? I don’t want to make you sit out in the cold.” She pointed out. She knew he was just doing it because she was nervous around crowds and the possibility of a forced conversation..  

  “It’s early March, it’s starting to warm up,” He brushed her off. There was a nip in the air, but it was just enough to tinge the end of one's nose red. Part of him found this an added bonus because despite the scarf she kept nuzzling her face in, Y/N’s cheeks and nose would have that slight discoloration he loved so much. Sometimes he had to search for it, but it was there and he found it adorable. With his free hand, he brushed partially melted snow off the bench. “You can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable, I don’t want your pants to get wet.” He settled himself onto the bench, their hands still connected as she stood there apprehensively. 

  “You know, I am okay with going into Honeydukes, as long as you’re with me I can handle the crowd-” She was cut off by his hand leaving hers, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist to pull her down onto his lap. She squeaked out in shock, eyes widened. “Oliver! Warning would have been nice, you scared me!” She gasped despite the fact she seemed to melt into him. 

  “Sorry, Love,” He smiled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “But I wasn’t going to let you drag me into Honeydukes and sacrifice your comfort just because you think I am cold,” He pressed his lips to her cheek as she unburied her face from her scarf. “We’ll wait until it starts to calm down.” 

  “Well,” She hummed, trying to uncover her watch from under her coat and mittens. Oliver helped, rolling her oversized, knitted mitten down slightly, revealing the watch she always wore. “It usually calms down at forty after the hour, it’s the quietest part aside from just before close-”

  “Which isn’t an option because you don’t want the workers to think you’re ignorant coming into a shop five minutes before closing,” He finished for her. She looked into his eyes, the smile that was covered by her scarf evident through the gleam in her eyes. “We’ll wait five minutes then go in. Then, we can go to the Three Broomsticks because at that time, usually the Twins will be pulling off some sort of stunt outside of Zokos.” 

____

  Y/N never thought of the Quidditch Pitch as a sanctuary for her to escape to. It was usually always loud in some way - or she thought it was. Boy, was she wrong. Before she met Oliver, she much preferred to avoid attention and noise. it was out of her comfort zone to be in fast paced social environments - such as Quidditch games. Oftentimes, she was usually found lounging in quiet areas of Hogwarts, but obviously, since dating Oliver, she frequented the Pitch more often. Either while he was practicing (team or alone) or while he was playing. More recently, she could be spotted under Oliver’s arm while he sat in the crowd watching the other team’s games. 

  Now, even when they didn’t make appearances at other games, their usual spot was always open. It was now known as Oliver and Y/N’s spots. Oliver had scouted them out once. Situated right at the top of the bleachers, Oliver had found a sweet spot where Y/N wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by over-eager people screaming. Sitting right next to the stairs, she could quickly escape if needed. When they were practicing, she sat in the front, her book carefully balanced on the edge of the railing. 

  Right now, she sat in her normal spot, the fall breeze whispering around her. Her large eyes were locked on Oliver as his brown eyes quickly moved around the pitch, watching everything with his incredible perceptive eyes. He always amazed her with his attention to detail - most likely from being such a good keeper. He noticed everything. He could sometimes spot the snitch before any of the Seekers. 

  “Hey, Y/N,” She blinked as she was startled by someone talking to her. Eyes searching the crowd in front of her, she spotted Seamus, his face painted in Gryffindor colours, a lion’s mane around his face. “Did Oliver tell you anything about his strategy in this game? Those nasty snakes are neck and neck with us! What is going through his head?” Seamus’ Irish accent got thicker and thicker as he got riled up. 

  She squeaked, face heating up as she felt a few people looking at her - also questioning the same thing. One thing about dating the captain, people had lots of questions and were upset when they were losing or had the possibility of falling behind in the game. “I-I’m not-” She swallowed thickly, pulling the scarf she wore up around her face, trying to hide within it. “Um, I don’t really, uh-” She licked her lips, a little bit of fuzz from the scarf falling catching on her lips and tongue. “No, he didn’t.” She answered, making everybody look away from her. 

  Sinking into her seat, her back against the wall, she let out a breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she cursed herself. ‘I couldn’t even answer a simple question! Stupid. Godric!’ She beat herself up before she let her eyes open at the sound of a shrill whistle. Instantly, her eyes met Oliver’s brown eyes. They were consumed by concern and a little bit of anger, but she knew it was directed to the people who made her uncomfortable. 

  “Gryffindor wins with Harry Potter catching the snitch! Starting off the season strong!” Lee’s voice boomed through the sound system, causing the stands to erupt in cheers (aside from the Slytherins who sneered at everyone as per usual). She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she stood, pulling the scarf down to show him her beaming smile. Sending him a thumbs up, she turned and made her way down the stairs. 

  She knew he would be waiting impatiently on the pitch right next to the tunnel he knew she would emerge from. “You won!” She exclaimed. Even in celebration, her voice was soft and quiet, but her face glowed in a way that far outweighed any form of vocalization. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms, legs and arms wrapping around him as his wrapped around her waist. Flush against each other, their faces buried within each other’s necks, they simply stayed like that. Oliver rocked them slightly, hands gripping each other’s clothes. They held each other in the most innocently desperate way, celebrating by feeling each other’s energies. 

  “Are you okay? They shouldn’t have been questioning you like that,” Oliver whispered into her hair, his breath tickling her neck slightly. She squealed, barely pulling away at the feeling. She could feel a slight smile stretching onto Oliver’s face at the reaction, but he turned serious a second later. “Reckon I need to make it clear that they can’t do that again.” 

  “It’s fine, Oliver-” She pulled away from him, hands coming up to cup his face. They couldn’t hear the wolf-whistles from the Weasley Twins (well, Y/N didn’t but Oliver did and instantly knew they were going to be in for a rough next practice). She took a look at his serious face, knowing she wasn’t going to convince him not to teach them a lesson. “Fine, but intimidating stares and empty threats only.” She told him sincerely. 

  “Fine by me.” He agreed, leaning in to press his lips to hers. She blushed furiously, all too aware of people looking at them, but she leaned into the kiss anyway - too desperate for a kiss to care (care enough to stop kissing him, but she knew she would be thinking about people watching once his lips left hers). 

____

  “It is blistering cold out Oliver, my fingers are about to fall off, where are we going?” Y/N questioned, her voice muffled by her scarf. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes securely behind the blindfold, both her hands gripping his arm the best they could with her oversized mittens. 

  “You will see in a minute.” He simply told her, making her huff. 

  “I don’t like surprises, Oliver.” She pouted, wiggling her face free from her scarf in order to show him the pout on her red tinged lips. She had a barely noticeable shade of lipstick on, wearing it specifically since it is her one-year anniversary with Oliver today. They were dressed nicely. Both had a pair of jeans and a warm sweater under their layers of winter wear. 

  “I know, Love, but you will like this one, I promise,” He reassured her, pressing a kiss to her hat-covered temple sweetly. She hummed, resting her head against Oliver’s bicep as he led her towards their destination, following in blindly. Looking down at her more as they slowly walked, he couldn’t help but let warmth bloom in his chest. Something about her snuggling into him as he led her to someplace, allowing him to lead her blindly. The amount of trust this showed she had in him warmed him against the bitter cold they walked in. “Okay, Love, we’re here.” 

  He could barely contain his smile as he gently pried her hands off him, walking behind her to untie the blindfold. “You took me to Greenhouse?” She questioned, eyes scanning the Greenhouse that stood in front of them.

  “Not any Greenhouse,” He exclaimed, carefully shuffling past her as they stood on a patch of ice. He pulled the small bit of cloth that covered the number on the door. Revealing the number one. “Greenhouse One! The Greenhouse I confessed my feelings to you in a year ago to this date. Even down to the hour!” He beamed as he opened the door for her. A blast of heat greeted them as he guided her into the room, a hand on her lower back to make sure she didn’t slip on the ice. 

  Her mouth fell open, looking around in amazement. The plants and tables that usually cluttered the center of the Greenhouse were pushed to the side, leaving space for a blanket and pillows to be laid out on the floor. Floating candles provided a flickering and a glowing amber light - the only light that illuminated the area aside from the winter sun that broke through the dirty windows on the Greenhouse in mini spotlights, dust swirling and dancing in them. 

  Turning around, Oliver closed the door, sealing the heat in the Greenhouse - the heating spell working brilliantly. When he turned around, he found his breath leaving him at the sight before him. She slowly walked further into the Greenhouse, eyes dancing around in amazement as she peeled her winter clothes off, starting with her hat and scarf. The golden rays hit her, illuminating her as if she were a work of art - just like they did a year ago at this time. As she pulled her mittens off, she reached out, touching the plant with the softest, most caring touch. Humming, she let the leaf of the plant go before dropping everything including her coat to the ground. 

  “This is beautiful, Oliver. I love it,” She whispered, looking back at him, eyes meeting his eyes in a zing like jolt, bringing him from his daze. He wanted to say the cliche line of ‘breathtakingly beautiful’ as he looked at her, but he was too taken by her standing there. All he could really do was stride towards her. ““Um, Oliver,” She whispered in a shaky voice as he didn’t say anything back to her, but his eyes were set with intent. “A-are you going to say something-” 

  She was cut off by his lips falling upon hers, his hands resting on her waist. They stumbled slightly from the force of his lips, but his hands gripped onto her waist, steadying them as her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, her lips moving with his in a sweet kiss. All their kisses were sweet. Innocent but rough (that thanks to Oliver’s need to show her how much he loved her). They stood there, lips locked in among the variety of beautifully growing plants, the smell of fresh soil and the fragrant tropical plants in the back corner of the Greenhouse - absorbed each other’s energies like the leaves of a plant absorbing sunlight; warm and energising. 

  “I love you.” He spoke against her lips before connecting their lips together. He was shocked when her hands were pushing his face away from hers, unable to pull herself away from the kiss due to him holding her flush against him, her back arching slightly.

  “I love you too, Oliver. So much.” She confessed to him, her wide eyes staring into his eyes, sparks exploding in her stomach as their eyes whispered heartwarming love between each other. And just like that, they both knew that the tales they would be telling until their last breaths would be tales of the infatuated, but Percy probably already knew that when he told Oliver everything that day.

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood imagines #oliver wood x fem!reader #oliver wood x shy!reader #x shy!reader #shy!reader #harry potter #oliver wood preferences #oliver wood one shot #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood fic #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #pappydaddy writes #oliver wood request #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood fics #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood oneshot

[bcacstuff]

Do we think Sam’s going to London for new years? Surely he’s not flying to the US the day before

Oh almost missed this!

So yes he was at the airport, but I doubt he was going somewhere. No suitcase or backpack!

I rather think he might have been there to pick someone up. And I have a good hunch who that someone might be as she teased already for a bit... posting stuff like this

sound on, listen to the song...

and this...

and

and today she posted this

oh yes, not her account this, but actually does confirm the snow in Scotland! 😊 (for the ones still doubting)

Yes, yes I hear you, stop teasing us, who is she.... shall I tell 🤔 ...

Okay okay

Does that look like an airport lounge? 🤔

and indeed IYKYK

Tunnocks, the red things here are typical first thing u wanna eat when you're in Scotland! I think Marina will for sure...

So wouldn't be surprised if he picked her up from the airport, after all he spend NYE 2021 at her place remember?

Soo... NYE might be settled then? Hosting NYE as well?

[cherylmaso]

how to get a grip and write soap non cringeworthy (by a glaswegian lass)

this may or may not be half a rant. but. okay. okay. i made a post like this before, but i kinda wanted to detail it a little more as i've seen posts like these popping up, but made by english people.

so i'm gonna make one about being scottish for non scots and how to more accurately portray soap as scottish. this is probably mostly aimed at people from tiktok, so feel free to share it around. this is also educational as well as light-hearted and is meant to be taken as such, don't get offended or just be fr

1.) okay, i'm gonna start off by saying... some of these unintentional(or intentional) stereotypes are fucking mind blowing. i'm not one to necessarily get offended by things like this, but i think it's worth mentioning. not all of us play bagpipes, or run around wearing kilts... or - for the love of god - RUN AROUND SCREAMING "SCOTLAND FOREVER." honestly..... it's so odd? i know you would be heavily offended if i called you a fat american, but really what's the difference?

(also the scotland forever is so cringe. i've never in my entire life heard anyone from this country say that)

2.) since i don't think there's any canon of where soap was specifically brought up in scotland(city-wise), i'll have to go off accents and his voice actor for this point. which is alright with me, because scottish accents can be very easily identified.

a lot like the english, scottish people can have MANY varying accents, and a lot of varying phrases. for example, someone down in ayrshire might say "i ken" instead of "i know" whereas people from glasgow usually wouldn't. you catch me?

...now, soap. soap would not go around saying certain phrases. from what i hear, he sounds glaswegian/edinburgh, which is east/west of scotland. the tiniest... TINIEST... bit of research will unveil a plethora of things that people from there would actually say.

aye/yes, naw/no, cannae/cant, could'nae/couldn't, fizzy drink/soda, how/why(this one is weird)..... that's an extremely small portion but you get the point. the scots talk EXTREMELY different than americans do, we have new words for almost everything.

and, before i lose my mind, PLEASE STOP HAVING SOAP REFER TO HIS MOTHER AS MOM. thank you.

3.) the general cringe. i've literally seen people say he would refer to himself as a big scotty boy. no one in scottish history has ever referred to themselves as that unironically. ever. again, circling back to the similarities between the english and scottish, we both have very sarcastic/edgy/cynical humour. ours won't be the same as the americans. our definition of sarcasm differs from yours. headcanons are fine, sometimes, but it's so out of character most of the time if you aren't from the country. bro would NOT spend his free time listening to lana del rey but don't let that stop you from saying he would LMAO

4.) we don't call ourselves british. i mean, some of us do(if yer a bastartin tory x), but most of us will literally get offended if you call us british. we'd all just much rather call ourselves scottish. don't ask me why.

5.) also! please educate yourself on how to properly use scottish slang. the amount of things that just genuinely do not make sense is appalling. it takes two seconds. also my dms are always open... feel free to ask a literal glaswegian lass. context also matters. if you don't know what you mean, just shut the fuck up x

6.) ...he wouldn't be a tory. none of them would be fucking tories. none of them would be sad about the queen. i know americans can't comprehend we don't actually worship the queen in britain, but considering they all probably grew up in some form of poverty or just a bad household, they just wouldn't be tories. or they literally wouldn't care.

7.) props to codie for this point. circling back to the stereotypes, i think it's MENTAL to see what you guys think are "funny" and "relatable" when really, you're absolutely perpetrating harmful scottish stereotypes. ha ha you are so funny when you make jokes about soap being really aggressive and a "gremlin" and an alcoholic and ahahha scotland forever and ahahahha he has bagpipes as his alarm clock... sorry but it's really not as funny as you think it is. like, there's a line and a lot of the time all you cunts online love crossing it with your poorly written headcanons and tiktok videos. i think a lot of you deserve to be told that it's not okay. i know you would all cry if we done the same and also it's just kinda embarrassing

8.) learn our culture but don't forget theres so much more to it. this isn't even primarily about scotland culture but more so british culture as a whole. it's completely different from any other culture and it's also not super hard to do your research. kinda hard to explain if you're not part of it but yk what i mean. sometimes it's obvious to me that you guys don't care to educate yourself and don't care to understand different cultures but i appreciate those that do lol

9.) where soap is from, he wouldn't speak gaelic either. i'm sorry, he just wouldn't. not really a thing in big cities. it's scots he would speak, and there's a difference. don't say they're the same things or you """prefer""" to call gaelic scots. yes someone actually said that LMFAOO. scottish gaelic isn't just saying aye and naw either. jesus fuckign christ x if you don't understand the difference or what you're even saying then just don't say anything LMAO

that's all for now. i'll probably randomly think of other stuff to add, but for now it's currently 5am and i cba. sorry if theres mistakes/typos, again, cba x

also if u get offended u need to get a grip and this is obvs aimed at u. ok have a good day pookie bears xx

(i promise i don't have a problem with americans but it's funny how it's always you guys)

#soap mactavish #soap mactavish fanfic #soap mactavish x reader #soapghost #soapghost fic #soap mactavish headcanons #soap mactavish hcs #soapghost hcs #soapghost headcanons #johnny mactavish #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #codmw2 #cod mw ghost #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw x reader #konig x soap #graves x soap #ghostsoap fanfic #rant #cry #L #sorry

[mafiasliege]

I dare you to let me go

(this is part 4 of my fic! Enjoy reading!)

Part 3 ↓

JAMESON

October is the best time Jamie had been to Scotland. Over the years, he'd visited vantage many times. It was built on a coastal cliff not too far from a lovely cove. The pleasant sunny days right before winter starts were the best. The beaches were perfectly warm and cliff-jumping into the water was a wonderful activity. At least, those are the inputs the Viscount Branford offered, except the cliff-jumping part, that was all Jameson. Branford had actually advised against it, which Jameson did not heed to, of course.

His relationship with his father may be tragically non-existent now, but his uncle made up for some of it. He'd never admit it, but he would have loved having him in his life growing up.

He'd landed in Scotland two days ago. And on the third, he'd started feeling lonely on his own and decided to dial up a redheaded Viscount who happened to be in Scotland too.

"You outdid yourself today" Jameson said, draining the last of the scotch and gesturing two fingers at the bartender.

"I did. And it looks like you can outdrink me. Tell me, was that your way of indirectly congratulating me for absolutely trouncing you at motocross?"

"In my defence, I may have underestimated you."

"And why is that?" Jameson's uncle raised a brow that reminded him too much of Grayson.

They must be worried, he thought, and then,

Stop it.

"Because you're an old man" he shrugged, to which they both ended up laughing. The drinks might be to blame, too.

7 seconds of silence died when Simon asked, "Why are you here, nephew? Surely it's not only to spend time with "an old man," as you put it."

To that, Jameson said nothing. Until a word stole his attention.

"You show up completely unannounced, and without your beloved heiress in tow, which makes me think there was a squabble, perhaps?"

"It's none of your business" he retorted with controlled fury.

"And yet I am here."

Maybe it was, in fact, the drinks, but Jameson told him everything. His uncle listened patiently. He didn't offer Jameson any advice, and at the moment, that was exactly what he needed.

After Jameson was done talking now than he probably ever did in his life, simon spoke, "are you staying at Vantage tonight as well?"

-------------------------------------------------

Jameson made it back to Vantage sometime around sunset. He always noticed, it looked so beautiful from the castle towers, or the cove. He'd considered proposing to Avery there, but then things had turned out the way they were now. He had left in such a hurry, he wasn't even sure he'd taken the ring with him, or at least hidden it away.

He couldn't hide anything from Avery, if he tried. That wasn't the problem now, though.

Now she just didn't care enough to look.

He parked the convertible in the garage built in the massive yard in front of the castle, alongside several other vintage cars that were too beautiful to be real. He discovered his affinity for vintage cars at an auction, where one of the items open for bidding was the 1962 Corvette Stingray he drove just minutes ago. The garage was huge, and a newer addition. It became a necessity because of the random thunderstorms he'd witnessed there. It was by the seaside, after all. The weather changed by the hour.

"Jameson?"

He could recognise that voice anywhere.

No. That can't be right.

He turned around to see a blur of brown hair and a worried face, and before he knew it, he was enveloped in a hug.

"You're okay" she said, much like she was trying to reassure herself. It felt nice to be hugged by her, but it was overtaken by the feeling that it took him flying off to another country for her to hug him spontaneously. So he pulled away.

He could get a good look at her now. She looked like hell. Disheveled hair, like she'd been running her fingers through it. Movements of her body that screamed exhausted. Puffy eyes from lack of sleep.

Or crying.

Jameson had seen and lived every kind of hell there is, but Avery crying made his heart break a little more every time, even when he thought it was already broken. By her, no less.

Don't fall for it. Resist it.

"Why are you here?"

"You suddenly disappear out of nowhere, you inform no one, fly off to god-knows-where on your plane you told no one you had. I was worried as hell" she fell a little short on breath, which made that last part sound even more distressed than it was. Her voice was rough too, like she had a cold. Or as if she'd been shouting.

His breath stuck at a mental image of a panicked Avery wandering around looking for him. It was so contrary to the distant, disinterested woman he'd sadly gotten used to.

If only she cared so much before.

"When did you come home?" He retorted, pushing away his thoughts, and a crumbling desire to comfort her.

"Jameson-"

"When?" He repeated.

Avery swallowed, "Eleven." He scoffed. Of course she showed up 4 hours after she was supposed to. Again. "I'm sorry, okay? I really am. I got held up by the-"

"See, that's the thing. There's always somewhere that need visiting or something that needs fixing or someone that needs saving. And you've put it above me, above us, every single time."

She seemed taken aback, and a little pale.

"Everything at both the foundations depends on me, Jameson, everything."

"So did I. But not anymore."

Avery looked even more pale now. And scared, more scared than she looked the many times people had tried to kill her. He felt a slight pang of guilt, looking at her scared expression.

You have nothing to feel guilty about.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. He pushed back the urge to wipe it away. He hated being the reason of her tears, even though she'd been the reason for so many of his. He sucked in a long breath.

"It means we can't be together anymore."

#idytlmg #the inheritance games #the grandest game #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #tig #averyjameson #jameson x avery #javery #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #should i leave this fic here? ehehehehe #no i won't #lol

[yunietunie]

Honey

Okay, so it's been a while since i wrote some angst here you go. No one asked for it but here it is :P. This is ******HEAVILY SPOILED******* on the new MW3 campaign and im sorry.

Summary: Johnny a friend, a soldier, and most importantly, a husband.

Warnings: Heavy, heavy angst.

Suggestion; Listen to “Jacob and The Stone” while reading.

How long have you been in the military? About 7-8 years and now with an additional one from joining TF141. You thrived, you had a lot of praise for your work as a specialist in your area. Your training and work ethic were exceptional, quickly proving your placement onto 141 in the first place. 

“What ya’ reading?” Soap asked you while you had a book in your hands after finishing a report. “Oh you know, just some poetry.” You’d say with a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your head swiveled over to him, to see what direction his voice was coming from. He’d scan his eyes to the title of the book. It read “Honey” By Sarah Gymson.

“You’ll have to lend it to me sometime.” Soap perked up back to your direction. “Here, take it now, I have another copy.” He’d take the book from your hands, putting it to his side.

Simple conversation between the two of you would flow into late night chats, ending up on missions together and becoming really good friends. You’d save him and he’d save you in times of dire need. Your dynamic with John MacTavish was perfect. He a demolition’s expert, you a sniper. It’s like the pieces fit together between the two of you.

You’d glance at each other during debriefs or free time, sending eye messages about how bored the two of you were. You’d usually end up eating lunch together in the canteen of the base, talking about all kinds of things. The occasional teasing was granted but after you got him back of course.

His hand propped to support his cheek while talking with you. “So, what’s your favourite place in the world that you’ve traveled to?” You’d ask him, looking at his soft blue eyes while they glazed over your appearance. “That would be anywhere with you.” Johnny teased towards you with a small smirk. “Oh c’mon, be serious.”

“Okay okay,” He responded, then he looked at his hands and took a deep breath as if he were pondering. Johnny looked back up at you. “The cliffs at Duncansby Head. Somewhere in Caithness.” His voice was velvety as he spoke, a sort of gentleness to it as well while he thought about his choice. Where even was that? Scotland maybe? “Any reason why?”

“It’s calm. The ocean hitting the side of the rock walls, the sound of the waves, the scenery—It’s soothing.” A twitch to the corner of his smile began to form. “Whenever I am frustrated or upset, I think of that place.” Your eyes would watch him while he spoke, a sort of somber expression as he reminisced about his time there. 

While on smaller missions, you got to know each other even better than the last time. The two of you having fun outside of work on your days off. It felt nice to have someone like this with you. Always positive. It wasn’t long before you began to develop feelings for him.

“Hey.” Johnny asked you, folding his arms into his torso, his eyes darting around the area. “Hey.” You responded with a giddy smile. “So—I was thinking,” He seemed nervous, but eager to ask you a question. “That we, uh, grab drinks sometime?” Your eyes widened as your brows shot up in surprise. He wanted to take you out for drinks. 

Little did he know that by asking you that small question a few months ago, you two would spiral into a relationship down the road. Spending almost every day together, some apart of course but you always knew that the two of you would come back. At least that’s what you’d like to believe.

Page 67

“Bound by secret ties,

Whispers in the dark unite.

Two worlds now intertwined.”

Over the course of the last few weeks you, the rest of 141 were on countless missions to stop the terrorist attack of Hasan and to stop the weaponization of American missiles. You finally ended up actually stopping him. The capture of Valeria made it a whole heck-of-a-lot easier to find the target. But you made it. You always did. At least with Johnny by your side. 

It had frightened you when you found out that Ghost—and Johnny were betrayed by Graves. No communication. You had no idea if he was alright or injured. But he was a good soldier, he always found a way out, is what you’d tell yourself to ease your mind.

A few hours later, he made it back okay. Sure he was shot, but he was okay. That’s all that mattered. “Bonnie, you came back.” He’d say when he was reunited with you, Price and Gaz after being in Al Mazrah to retrieve Laswell. “Always.” You’d whisper to him before getting gear and tossing it to some Los Vaqueros to help fend off the Shadow Company while retreating.

You’d regroup with everyone back at Alejandro’s safe house to take back their base in Las Almas. Johnny pulled you to the side, away from everyone for a moment to check if you were hurt. “Yer okay?” A soft expression plastered over his face, accompanied by concern. “I'm fine, always will be.” You’d respond with a small grin and an airy chuckle.

After the succession of taking back the base with being unscathed, you’d find yourself sitting next to Johnny, your head resting on his shoulder on the way back to base. He’d been carrying the poetry book you lent him, quietly reading to himself until their arrival back to base.

Page 127

“Like bees drawn to sweet embrace,

Love’s nectar we share.”

Another few months fly by without much changing, the relationship between the two of you transpire. He ended up actually proposing to you, a happy gleaming part of your relationship. You got married to the goofy guy you met in the military. The two of you would read the poetry book together before bed or whenever sent on missions, it was your guy’s thing to share.

“Hey so…” Johnny trailed off, his fingers fidgeting with one another while he came up with words to say. “What if we—Had a kid? Not now of course. But in the future?” He asked you with no hint of a joke tone. He was serious. A kid? A kid who could run around the house and keep the two of you busy for years? A kid who would be just like their dad.

It was a cute idea, you loved it. “I say yes to that. I’d love to have a kid.” You responded with a fond smile on your lips, his expression full of love as the two of you cuddled in the bed together. You’d find yourself fidgeting with the rubber wedding band on your finger with a gentle smile, reminding you that you married John MacTavish.

“Makarov?” After the picture slid to you from Johnny’s hand. “What the hell is he doing? I thought we put him into custody four years ago?” You’d ask, your brows furrowing at the thought of evil coming back to haunt you. “He’s planning a prison break, we just don’t know when.” Laswell said, her arms folded atop the bar counter. 

You’d look at the rubber wedding band on your finger, your mind slightly filling with worry. A calloused hand placed over top of yours to provide comfort. Turning your gaze over to Johnny, “We’ll be okay.” His voice reassured your overthinking mind. 

The world was beginning to fill with suspicion of Uzbekistan, from their recent exposure to “terrorist” attacks led by Farah and her military personnel. Which led to you and the rest of 141 to hunt down Makarov and stop him before he created a war between west and east, pinning Uzbekistan and Farah as the terrorists, it would be catastrophic.

After failing to get to the chemicals in the bunker, you somehow, probably by the grace of god, had enough time to tell Laswell to get to safety after her meeting with Yuri. Two missiles from Farah’s base that were stolen, launched to where Laswell was. Everything was fine, or so you thought.

Thanks for some intel given by Shepard… and Graves… You managed to get a hit on some intelligence on the location of a target. You’d have to let your hate dissolve if you wanted this mission to be done. And that's what you did.

After you, Ghost, and Johnny made it to a small island off the coast of a country—You would extract financial dealings that Makarov had Melina do. Finding the sweet spot, you head back to Russia and capture his Second in Command and get more intel since Makarov wasn’t there.

This endless fight of the five of you trying to find the man behind it all while fighting your way through Konni was tiring. But you had the love of your life around almost every corner. Just being near him gave you comfort and other perspectives. 

“Another hit,” Laswell stated over comms to each of you. “Possible ID on a hacker that has a buyer, he’s connected to Makarov.” “Where?” Johnny asked quickly, hoping to bring an end to Makarov’s reign of terror and death. “London.” That was a surprise? He’s attacking in their home country? There wouldn’t be more information until Laswell spoke again. “He’s going to use the trains underground.”

“The ones that connect the UK and France? That’s hundreds of miles of train rails.” Price said in his gravelly frustrated voice. But what choice would they have? They would try to pin him in the middle. TF141 would come in from the UK side, to get discrete info off the hacker and buyer to get Makarov’s full location while another unit would enter from the france destination and meet in the middle. 

If all the intel they had was right—Makarov was planning to bomb the railway, killing innocent Men, Women and Children in the trains to make yet another seemingly false blamed terrorist attack. You’d look at Johnny, a deep breath in and one out before looking back at the screen. The two of you would get prepared and head towards the pier in London to find the hacker. 

Blending in, Ghost and Gaz were already in position over the comms and attempting to use Surveillance cameras for any outliers. You and Johnny split up, eventually being on opposite sides of the Hacker, hoping to listen in on anything she would say for intel.

“It’ll be done.” She said, the phone holding up to her ear while she paced around. Then she turned her head around, seemingly paranoid of being watched. She began to walk away, you were following her with Johnny holding your hand, being a couple in public to draw away suspicion.

Johnny held your hand, then used his free one to stop you to look at him. “I love you. So so much.” He said in a soft voice before planting a kiss on your lips, you returning the favour. “I love you too, Johnny.” You smile after tearing away from his kiss. That was enough time to distract the hacker and for the two of you to move into a different position.

“The payment is already finished, orange cap. Pleasure doing business.” And with that Ghost began to look through the cameras on the streets for a man with an orange cap, hoping that is who they were looking for. After a few minutes, they saw the buyer enter through an abandoned and discrete subway tunnel entrance. 

“Perfect place for them to hide.” Gaz said through the radio. You and Johnny began to head towards that area, meeting up with Price, Ghost and Gaz who would meet you three on later. You, Johnny and another unit began to plow through the Konni group, your eyes would glance over to Johnny to make sure he was safe at every free second you were given. 

Finally, making it down the steps and to the railway, you begin to head towards where the bomb was located, hoping to see Makarov there. The sound of russian words, bullets flailing and the train would muffle things out for you. Taking out the troops easily with the help of Johnny by your side, alongside the rest of the other unit. As you rushed to get past the incredibly fast train, you eventually made it to the middle platform where even more troops rushed out to greet you with unfriendly weapons.

You turn your gaze to the center, the bomb making slow yet quiet beeps as the timer begins to decrease. “Johnny—In the center, I'll cover you.” You’d say as the two of you began to make it towards the center, making sure he was safe in the process. “Got it.”

After a few seconds, he began to pry at the latch and grunted at frustration. “This needs two people, get a snake cam and insert it on the other side.” He said as he began to tug and push aside wires. You inserted a snake cam inside the metal frame. “Look to your right, I need the logo of the circuit.” You squint your eyes and turn it to the right to find what he had asked for. “Bear.”

“Bear okay.” After a few more minutes of him attempting to cut off the time he spoke once more, a bit rushed. You only had a minute until it detonated. “Give me the third number of the serial code. It's on the left bottom corner.” You scramble the snake cam over to the side and find it. “9.” you said swiftly, he inputs it and it was correct.

“Okay—Last thing, Bonnie. On three, we cut the red wires.” Soap said as he held up the pillars to the red wire about the same time you did. “1…2–”

Bang

A strange pain filled you as you were knocked back to the concrete floor, your head instantly turning to Johnny as you groaned, a gun fired at his torso, knocking him down as well. “Johnny—!” You shout, your eyes meeting with dead ones, then at a gun pointed to your head, a finger over the trigger.

“This is to teach you a lesson. Don’t bury your enemies alive.” Makarov stated with a chuckle just before he was about to shoot a hole into your skull. That was when, in a flash, you saw Johnny leap from the ground and stab Makarov in the neck with his combat knife. Moving quickly, Makarov twisted Johnny’s arm in front of him to get the knife out. Your loving eyes watched as his body hit the ground after a final gunshot. Makarov looked like he was about to shoot you but as soon as Price, Ghost and Gaz came, he ran. Fucking coward.

You were still shell shocked, your head turned towards the corpse of your husband. “No.” You said wearily. You would clutch the side of your torso where you had been shot and crawled over to him. Tears pricked your eyes. “No, no, no. Please.” Your broken voice would beg. You placed two fingers on his neck to check for a pulse, even though it was apparent that he was–gone.

You tore your hand away from your side, not caring about blood loss. Not caring anything at that moment. “My boy. Not my boy. Please—Please don’t leave me.” You screamed as you placed his cheeks into your palms, your tears hitting his face. “Please..” You’d whisper, pressing your foreheads together, wishing this wasn't real. You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“It was supposed to be me.”

Page 201

“Crimson roses fall, 

Life’s bloom fades,

A final breath.

Death’s touch, a silent call.”

A/N: i cried. Ugly cried even, when i played the campaign and experienced this and now do some other people :3.

#cod x reader #mw2 #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #mw2 2022 #114 x reader #cod mw3 #call of duty mw3 #mw3 #mw3 spoilers #mwiii #modern warfare 3 #cod mwiii #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap cod #cod #john mactavish #mwii #cod mw22 #johnny soap mactavish #soap mw2 #angst #heavy angst

[asherloki]

helloooo :)

i was wondering if u could write somthing about anderson disrespecting reader when they join cases with sherlock, but always behind their backs

but then sherlock hears and he starts (trying) to beat him up, and anderson puts up a good fight, however sherlock still wins

he goes home to 221B and reader is shocked asking who hurt him and what he did, but he doesn’t give away anything, and simply tell them not to worry about it. whilst reader is patching up his wounds, john comes back and starts saying how cool, dangerous and reckless beating up anderson for reader was and they’re just flustered and shocked, saying thank you to sherlock (maybe a first kiss scene?)

reader also gives anderson a piece of their mind - not because he disrespected them, because he beat up sherlock :)

tysm and ur work is amazing!!!!

Detective's doll

Bbc Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 840

A/n:- listen guys, just one or two fic will come this month, once October is here I'll be doing Halloween fics! I've shared some prompts do check! Fandoms you know, otherwise check my masterlist.

"you think I can help you with this case?" I enquired to Sherlock not believing he asked my help suddenly for a case. I've been fond of him since I moved in. He can seem cold, unfriendly, some people may describe him as arrogant as well. I was no exception, however living with him taught he's actually pretty lonely. Especially since john watson was married. Sometimes when he's working or sitting with his microscope he looks as pure as a child who just needs a hug. I do want to hug him tight sometimes but he's not very fond of touches innit? So I never dared.

"that's why I asked you, look this case includes information about victorian literature and by seeing your side of the bookshelf " he said pointing to our bookshelf, his side was filled with books about chemistry, science, anatomy and mine was filled with victorian classic novels, mostly, "I think you can help us with this".

"okay then" I must admit I was over the moon. A real life adventure was calling me, how could I not be thrilled.

In evening we went to Scotland yard, I felt excited about being able to help these men. Especially Sherlock, he introduced me to lestrade and informed him that I'll be joining their quest. His agreement confirmed my involvement before I went with him to his office to get some information about the case, I thought Sherlock was following me however I turned around to find out he was going to a different direction, he was walking towards Andersen. Perhaps he had business with him, but one question still lingered, he doesn't quite like Andersen that much.

When I came back with a folder in my hand which contained some information put inside, not in an organised way, I looked around for Sherlock, it seemed like he was gone, and for some reason people or I must say other officers there stared at me. I wondered why, maybe because I don't usually visit their office. Though their furrowed brows told some different story.

After I got to Baker Street I found the flat's door already open,

"Sherlock?" I called, to make sure it was him who opened the door, and not some break in, "is it you in there?" I walked in showing some bravery, trying to make least noise possible to find Sherlock struggling with the first aid box.

"gosh" I went closer to him and I gasped as I found out he had a cut along his cheek bone, and some more wounds accompanying "what the... what happened?"

"nothing" replied the detective, still trying to get the box open. I noticed his knuckles were hurt too as they were all red, it was the reason for his struggle with the first aid box. They were hurting him as he tried to open it.

"fine don't tell me" the only thing I couldn't bring myself to like about him was his habit of keeping things hidden, "do me a favour and sit" I wonder if my eyes reflected all the concern I felt for him. It may have, for he stared at me for a few seconds then obeyed without any objection. I took some medicine in cotton to apply over his cut.

"ow" he pulled away as the medicine on the wound felt like burn.

"I know it might hurt but please.." as I said and he nodded in agreement, it appeared to how much I fancied this moment, me taking care of him, even though he was hurt, and that was the part I disliked. I continued to do my job until John Watson came bursting in,

"oh gosh you're here, you did amazing" he seemed overjoyed and I bet I could see all his 32 teeth the way he smiled.

"let's not talk about it" said Sherlock softly. My confusion rose at this point, does john know what happened?

"no wait" I forbid him to interfere, "what happened john?"

"wait you don't know?" he asked in a way as if I'm the one who should be knowing this before others, although he was well aware how secretive his friend can be.

"how's mary? Is pregnancy bothering her?" Sherlock interrupted again, with his terrible skill of small talk.

"shhh" I hushed him "speak up John".

"Sherlock beat up Andersen" He spoke finally.

"he did what?"

"yes, because..."

"you said enough" Sherlock forbid him again.

"no he hasn't" I said, "because?" I turned to John.

"because Andersen said shit about you" John's words left his mouth and hit me, one because Andersen said something bad about me? but I never were mean to him even for once, why would he do that? and two, Sherlock beat him for that? For me?

"it wasn't just.." Sherlock started to say something, he was lacking excuses so he stuttered until I spoke,

"really?"

"yes, Andersen is beaten up terribly by him" replied john, "and you shouldn't bother about what he said".

That only meant it was very mean, "I'd still like to know"

"dumb doll of the detective" said Sherlock, "that's what he told you, you're dumb, a doll who's is controlled by me"

I gasped at this not knowing what to say.

"an opportunist" followed by a few seconds of quietness, "he said more but..."

It felt terrible, no wonder other words were far more worse that Sherlock couldn't bring himself to speak.

"anyway" John said breaking the silence. "I better go home, Mary might need me."

Waving us he went and left us wondering about the situation. I turned to Sherlock as I was yet to understand all those cuts and wounds he endured, were all to protect my image? To protect me from words? He knew then how sensitive I am under the cover of a strong person, "you fought him for me?"

He nodded in response, followed by the heavy exhale.

"and why?"

"because you don't deserve disrespect, and obviously not from someone like Andersen." he replied.

I don't know why but that moment I didn't care if he likes being touched or not instead I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed my chin on his head, sniffing his hair and realising his shampoo has a decent smell, no wonder his curls were like a soft pillow. It forced me to lean my cheek too with a smile that appeared on my lips, "you didn't have to, but thanks"

"no problem" he said taking my hand, and caressing it, as if it was an assurance, a promise that my palm was safe in his hand.

Next day Sherlock, john and I went to Scotland yard where I found the sight of beaten up Andersen, oh how... terrible honestly. I felt bad how wounded he was but atleast he'll think twice before disrespecting me, or anyone. Sherlock made sure of that.

"you guys go inside, I'll be with you in a minute" I said walking to Andersen, although Sherlock pulled me a little by my wrist to say,

"listen" Sherlock said, "don't put up a fight I did it already"

"I won't" we exchanged smiles and I went to catch Andersen,

"Andersen!" I called.

He looked horrified yet fuming at me he said, "you? what do you want?"

With some strength in my voice I stated, as politely as possible yet stern, "next time if want to say something, make sure it's on my face, but if you dare again, my detective will kill you, I'm his doll afterall, he won't let you play with me like that" then I went a little closer and replied in a hushed voice, "I'm his to love, his to keep, his to adore." This may haven't scared him but infuriated him even more, so I stepped backwards with a smile, now that my threat did it's job and walked away, just one more time I turned around to wave him, a mocking wave to be more clear, "see ya".

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x you #i am sherlocked

[rayclubs]

Mahlzeit,

ok since I´m a firm believer that every merc is a perfect combination of smart and stupid, I feel comfortable saying that everyone is wrong about engineer.

like no he isn´t the only one who would be capacle of realising the benefits of a union. he´s very much unable to see it because he definetely gets too tunnelvisioned as soon as his work is involved and everything not directly linked to his tasks is unnecessary.

Malzheit!

Okay, real, but do you want a TF2 political affiliations post? Because that's how you get a TF2 political affiliations post.

Scout:

The most susceptible to propaganda after maybe Soldier.

Cares about celebrities way too much and therefore is unable to recognize the utmost necessity of taxing the rich.

Probably believes in the American Dream or something.

Would not start a labor union but would join one because while dumb as a baseball, he at least understands that his ma worked really hard to support him and his gajillion brothers growing up, and that's kinda unfair and all that. Or something.

Soldier:

Can be convinced to do anything. Seems to have political affiliations, what with his anti-communist shtick, but really it's just whatever. If you sit him down and explain the actual communist ideas and how what he's actually against is dictatorship, he'll listen to you. Might take some time, but he will.

Would not start a union but would assassinate the president.

Pyro:

Mmmph?

I don't even know. Anarcho-transhumanism.

*lights self on fire and fights the cops*

Engie:

Okay I have THOUGHTS

He is a bit of a utilitarian, I think. What with him solving practical problems and all.

Graduated into the upper middle class and can't see past that because his mind is 99% the digits of Pi and all that.

Hasn't voted once in his life.

Probably actually has some misguided beliefs about labor exploitation due to being American. Like Pauling, has one vacation a year and leaves his phone on in case someone needs to reach him in an urgent work matter.

People bring up his hand as if it were the result of an OSHA violation, but like. No. He did that. He did done cut it off himself. It doesn't count.

Everything he builds is an OSHA violation.

Heavy:

Was a pioneer. You know, that Soviet thing? Kinda like an American boy scout, but with more propaganda. He got better though.

He'd be a bit wary of unions but I think he's educated enough to recognize the difference. It's just a subconscious bias, is all.

He wouldn't start a union because, while educated, he's not diplomatic. Much like Engineer "I'll break you in half" TF2, he's more used to killing the authorities than to legally opposing them.

Also his father was a revolutionary. And died for it. So yeah. Maybe he wouldn't be quite so eager to follow in his footsteps.

Demo:

I actually don't know much about labor unions in Scotland but I think Demo would be a union man.

Like. His father killed the queen for a nickel. I think the man knows enough about oppression and workers' rights to be angry about that.

Explode the rich.

"But Demo, you are rich!" - "Aye..." *killbinds*

Medic:

Already in a union.

Not politically aligned but LOVES shoplifting.

Sniper:

Individualism on main.

Would not start a union because he hasn't talked to a human being in seventeen years.

You ask him if he wants to start a union and he stares into the void for five minutes before quietly asking "...like ants?"

Can't sign up because he can't write. Why do you think he calls his parents instead of writing letters?

Actually scratch that. Can only write upside down.

Spy:

Supports whatever suits his interests.

A corporate until the labor union is strong enough, then switches sides and becomes an avid proletarian.

Also individualism on main and that's why he and Sniper get along.

Nothing like avoiding your best friend.

I don't even know. None of them would start a union actually. Medic would do it for fun. Demo would do it as a dare. Soldier would do it by accident.

#raynswers #tf2 #i don't even know what this post is #tf2 whole team

[tortellinisposts]

more matt for the soul bc he’s the love of my life. I have only had him for a year and a bit now but my god, he has completely taken over my life. he IS my Roman Empire. my autistic special interest. *insert markiplier green screen meme here*

ANYWAY-

the way he switches between soft and sexy is so funny help-

anyway- my main goal is TO BLOW UP ANF ACT LIKE I DONT KNOW NOBODY HAENEGEGEGENH

sorry.

here’s some matty facts and hcs

he’s very gay with ghost cause i said so. english x scot is very funny to me. mostly cause me and my gf are that trope so…

matt is ethnically jewish !! i am too and i like putting my religious experiences on my blorbos. he struggles to understand his ancestry considering he’s one of the descendants of those who’d converted prior to the Second World War and one of those whose distant relatives died in the Shoah. he doesn’t believe in the religion but he takes some of the the practices or cultures into his life out of respect and honour for his history :)

he really hates normal tea but loves cinnamon or peppermint.

he’s a tad similar to jason todd funnily enough.

matt is super smart in the creative side of the world, he’s alright at maths and other sciencey stuff but expressive arts is where his strengths lie. he also really loves languages and has an adoration for Scots Gaelic because SCOTLAND FOREVER !!

matt had a twin brother, arthur. but unfortunately his brother passed away in action a few years after they were recruited by MI6.

matt and arthur’s alias’ were atreides cause their dad, craig was in MI6 before them and he was called atreus. also yes. they are referencing agammemnon and meneleus that was acc by mistake.

i named matt cipher because of gravity falls not for cringe reasons okay??? its because i was obsessed with the show when i was little. also it has plot significance.

he gets called the fruitier version of soap. it’s because of their haircuts. oh and because they’re scottish.

he listens to mitski, ethel cain and paris paloma. also lana del rey when he’s feeling somber. OH- and lady gaga.

#cod oc art #cod oc #cod mwii #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty oc #call of duty