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siooin · 5 months

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About Natsume and Ranpo

//spoil about the end of light novel 4

“Good work on finding the place.” Fukuzawa lightly bowed before showing the cane in his hand. “Oh, why, if it isn’t the cane I lost some time ago. You came all this way to return it to me? How commendable.” “Your reputation precedes you, sir. If you would pardon my intrusion, I came to ask a favor.” “Don’t be so formal. Come, have a seat.” Fukuzawa bowed before taking a seat in the nearby chair. Ranpo, on the other hand, quietly stared at the man before him without even moving. “No way… I didn’t notice before, but he’s—”“I owe you my gratitude for saving me that day, my dear boy.” The man cackled. He wasn’t wearing a suit this time, but he still had on a bowler hat. “Oh, okay,” Ranpo mumbled as if he were standing on pins and needles. His voice was hoarse. “You saw through that trap at the theater from the beginning. You noticed the rug’s adhesive, and yet, you allowed yourself to fall into the trap. Why? Was it to lure out the enemy—? No, there were plenty of ways you could have done that—” “Whether I did or not, I owe your father.” He smiled faintly. Ranpo stood absolutely still as if he were struck by lightning. “Don’t tell me… From the very start, you—***” “I came with a request,” Fukuzawa abruptly said, cutting him off. it wasnt in the fantranslate version,but in my physical copy he said “Don't tell me...from the very start,you want to lend me a helping hand—”

In their conversation,it's heavily implied that Natsume purposely got caught because he want to "help" Ranpo.Because he own Ranpo's father(Clairvoyant) some favor.I assumed the "help" here means let him and Fukuzawa meet n cooperate thus deepen their bonds.

It's about building up the agency too,but I believe it's mainly about helping Ranpo.

Makes me wonder if part of the reason Clairvoyant asked Ranpo to go to Yokohama is because of Natsume?Just how cool Ranpo’s dad was that even THE strongest ability user owes him some favor?Maybe we can get some flashbacks of Clairvoyant and Natsume if Asagiri ever wants to develop that part of Natsume's character.though the chance is low since Clairvoyant didn't even get mentioned in anime.

My question is,how much did he do or know to help Ranpo?Did he originally not plan to get kidnapped,but recognized Ranpo in the theater and decided to help him?

Or did he set up Fukuzawa and Ranpo to meet?Isn't it too convenient that V's plan of kidnapping happened the same day they met?Actually everything is a little bit too convenient.Natsume can easily leak his whereabouts to make it happen.

theory about Natsume's pov with Ranpo

Now here's a little theory explaining why he didn't help him himself before,even let him live on the street for a few months.

1.he's busy he's powerful he probably has to save the world once a month or something He couldn't always keep his eyes on him.

2.He didn't know Clairvoyant died and Ranpo's in Yokohama until like idk months later,we don't know when exactly Ranpo's parents gone.

3.Ranpo's father.Ranpo didn't know ability exists until Fukuzawa told him.His parents probably planned to tell when he grow up.Again his parents are very protective.

so Clairvoyant perhaps told Natsume something like"if something happened to me,please make sure my son is okay,but dont drag him into the dangerous world of you ability users"

Natsume didn't interfere at first because Ranpo seemed "fine".Sure he's lonely and unfit,but at least he's safe,he's smart he'll pull it through and find a way to fit into society right?

But he didn’t,things had been getting worse and worse,Ranpo's desperate and helpless.he's homeless,so lonely so close to having a breakdown.HE NEEDS HELP.

Like i said,he couldn't have always kept an eye on him.but i'd like to imagine when he realized how desperate Ranpo actually was,he started to take action,aka finding someone who can help him aka Fukuzawa.

He didn't take him himself because he gotta keep his mysterious vibe and has a loud smart brat would ruin that isn't the best choice when Fukuzawa is right there.Even if Fukuzawa wasn’t there he’ll find someone else for him(not Mori though,that guy is not allowed near children),if there's no other choices ultimately i think he would take care of Ranpo himself.

cannibalism arc

Another theory,Ranpo knew Natsume would interfere in the cannibalism arc.He knew he would be trapped in the book for a few days and there’s no way he thought Ada would successfully murder mori.But he still did it.Why?Because Chuuya is too powerful,his existence would simply change the situation,so to make sure Natsume’s plan won’t mess up,Ranpo had to take Chuuya out of the picture.Fukuzawa will be ok as long as the plan worked.

Relationship

I'm curious what their relationship is like?In untold origins,Ranpo seemed neutral,mostly because he was shocked by Natsume’s words and therefore didn’t have many other expressions.Even after that they’re having a serious conversation so yeah really can’t see much.i think he did respect Natsume to some degree,not so much like Fukuzawa,but still.

Now that he knows Natsume had a connection with his father and mayhaps knows him personally.(yk Natsume didn't have to keep his promise since no one else would know but he still did,either he’s just that loyal or him and Clairvoyant r good friends).He’ll be glad someone else remembers his dad not as “Clairvoyant” but his own person. I think they would have a good relationship.

Actually if they were really that close,do you think Natsume ever told Ranpo how proud his dad would be at him if he’s still alive,or or telling him stories of his father to keep the memories alive.

Ranpo&Natsume AU idea

I'm too deep in this rabbit hole but hear me out.We often talk about what would happen if Ranpo didn’t meet Fukuzawa like instead Mori or Fyodor got him.But what if is Natsume who adopted take in ranpo.Wouldn't it be cool?

If he can’t find someone to help him and eventually he had to take him himself.He can’t let Clairvoyant's son keep roaming on the street like that right?Imagine he thought it’s just temporary babysitting until he found somebody else.But no,Ranpo has clinged onto him and actually is slowly growing on him too.then BANG new father n son duo unlock.

ok but based on how the narrative describes Natsume,he’s very intelligent too.I think Ranpo would be happy around someone who is also smart too.Reminds him of his parents.He can help Ranpo adapt(?.Heck he may even help Ranpo without telling him he's an ability user.

idk what would yhe plotline go.Maybe the ada still somehow establish.Maybe Ranpo become a solo detective that's known for carrying a cat with him when solving crimes.Maybe Ranpo becomes some little assistant of Natsume,appears here and there,mysterious just like him.

ok i remember seeing a fic like that,but it's not focus on Natsume.basically it's just young Ranpo running around with Natsume on him and messed with skk.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bad meta #bsd analysis #ranpo edogawa #natsume soseki #bsd ranpo #bsd natsume #reread some part of ln4 to make this post glad its still as funny as i remember it is #anyways plz go read untold origins if you havent #it has ranpo's parents crumbs and fukuzawa's hilarious inner dislogue #found family ranpo n Natsume my beloved #i actually have a lot more to say about the au but im so sleepy rn #maybe ill write more in the morning #this post is pain to organize cause i just keep rumbling and rumbling without focusing on the subject #sorry if it looks like a mess fhaidhs #overannalysis things about Ranpo is my passion

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soldier-poet-king · 10 months

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My boss is making my life SO MUCH more difficult by not following good records management practices. And the kicker. Is that WE are the records management and archives dept and she's always complaining about xyz records transfer/retention issues from other departments 🙃

#franposting #HELLO #like yeah I'll do it but i wont be HAPPY about it #and it would literally be so much less work if it was done properly in the first place #me becoming the supreme dictator of paperwork and info management went #when* not went #LITERALLT everything would be so much more efficient if i was a benevolent dictator #<is only half joking #me??? persnickety control freak??? i think you mean excellent burecrat and lover of regulations and rules and paperwork #but ONLY at work #at home i am mess. organized chaos reigns where im the only one affected :)#bc I know where all my personal stuff is so that's all that matters #BUT IN THE WORKPLACE???? oh organization and accessible data is my BELOVED #anyway its annoying but at least its the kind of work i can listen to podcasts while doing #requires enough brainpower that i dont get bored but not so much that i cant listen to audio dramas

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callofdudes · 10 months

Note

ive been in the mood for some angst, some good ol' hurt/comfort or even hurt/no comfort. how would the 141 react to finding out their s/o has been kidnapped? their reactions to finding the ransom note, and how they would get their beloved back?

I wrote headcanons for this.... And then I wasn't happy with it, but I liked the headcanons enough to not want to get rid of them so I apologize if it's a mess. It's been a really emotional and draining couple days for me. But I wanted to get something out even if this was all I could produce.

Price 🥃

Don't mess with him. You mess with him or his family and he'll rock your shit. He is brutal and I know we all like to pretend he's the loving father figure he is 100% of the time but truth is this man is ruthless.

It doesn't matter who he has to kill to get you back he will. Whatever or whoever stands in his way between him and you is gonna get got.

This is pretty much true for all of the guys. But Price is that, I've been married for like 11 years don't fuck with my family.

When Price finds the note he's rightfully furious, he's scared, but overall he's furious that they would dare to put their hands on you. To take you away and then threaten him with your demise, of worse.

Giving Price exactly 48 hours to hand over the money whatever organization wanted it wasn't a smart option. In fact, none of this was smart. The note mentioned what would become of you if the instructions were not followed.

He tucked the note in his pocket and without hesitation he dialed the phone number that was on the paper. He remained calm, as he did with any enemy.

"If you think of hurting them, I will not hesitate to kill you." Said in a low voice. The kind that remains calm but you can tell he means every word coming out of his mouth.

"We won't have to hurt them if you give us what we want." The soldier on the other line sneered.

John was absolutely terrified inside. He knew how to handle this situation with civilians and his own teammates but this was you. You. What If they killed him or he didn't get there in time??

He didn't hesitate before doing a deep dive on the organization as far as the eye could see. The idiot stupid enough to leave his phone number got their 20 second call tracked and he didn't need to have the location before he was up and out.

He'd either bring a team or go alone but knowing Price he'd probably go alone. Brutal killing. Brutal killing.

I mean all the normal military stuff but with some extra aggression. Affectionate dad mode has turned into 'Slaughter everything that ever moved with extra violence husband mode.'

He searches every room and he doesn't stop until he knows their dead. He'd leave a few lost soldiers in favor of getting to you. While he would kill them all his main priority is finding you and making sure you're ok.

Lots of kisses and reassurance when he finds you alive and ok. If you're unharmed he probably untie you from your holding place and pull you in tightly, kissing you and hugging you, telling you he's here. He's here and it's ok. Nothing, nothing will ever hurt you. Not on his watch.

"I've got you love, I've got you." He kisses your forehead, then your lips. "I'm here darling, you're ok, you're safe."

You fall into his arms, crying and grabbing onto him tightly. "I thought they were going to killed me- John!"

Price holds you tightly, kissing the side of your head. "Oh love I'd never let that happen, I would never let that happen you hear me??" You still cry, grabbing onto him even as he picks you up, holding you in his arms as if he would protect you from the whole world. And he would. Nothing would ever hurt you.

If you are injured then all those dead men out there?? Oh yeah, he's going to shoot all of them again just for good measure. If you are hurt any leniency he had for soldiers still hiding around the place is gone. Will blow up the facility. To pieces. Fucking bye!

You whimpered, looking up at him, blood trickling down your forehead into your eye and matted in your hair. "John...." Price cut your bindings and pulled you into his arms.

"They hurt you... Which one of them hurt you!?"

You grabbed onto him, shaking and crying as he wraps his arms around you. "I'll kill them all. I'll kill them for what they've done. They won't lay another hand on you." He growls, holding you close.

He gets you home and doesn't leave your side, but you don't mind the cuddles and how he stays up later than usual that night keeping his eye on you that he falls asleep next to you on the couch.

If you come back injured he tends to your wounds, lays you down in bed and stays awake with your head on his chest, stroking his hand through your hair and over your scalp, feeling your warmth and comfort in knowing you came out ok.

"How are you feeling?"

"Still shaken up." You whisper, nuzzled up against his chest, laying under his chin. "You?"

"Just glad you're alive. So so glad you're alive." He hugs you tightly, kissing your head. "I love you." You snuggle up, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I know you'll always be to my rescue John."

"Always, I won't ever let someone hurt you like that. Never."

Gaz 🧢

Gaz can do ok with confrontation. Even though he doesn't like it, he usually lets his gun do all his talking for him. The barrel to their face and they usually shut up pretty quickly.

Gaz definitely leaves the intimidation up to his weapons. But when you're kidnapped and taken hostage? Fuck that. Fuck all of that. You are feeling the full force fury of one Kyle Garrick and you don't want that.

The fuck around and find out type.

A little better at regulating his emotions when he finds the note. When he reads it his face is full of rage if you look into his eyes. The scowl forming is palpable to his rage. Crumpling the note up in his hand before dropping it to the ground.

He doesn't hesitate to grab his gun, his hat and his car keys. Someone is gonna get their ass beat.

It's on the way that he gets a call from the people who have kidnapped you, giving him a verbal warning of the damage you would suffer in the next 48 hours if the deal wasn't closed.

"You have 48 hours to get me that money do you understand?? Or your love is bye-bye."

Kyle remains silent on the phone, glaring down the drive, his foot pressing into the pedal. "Every finger you put on their skin, I'll cut it off." He hisses before ending the call.

Their first mistake was giving Kyle their location to meet. Gaz is wicked with technology when he gets his hands on it.

When they tell him where to meet and drop the money he does a quick search, surveying the area and finding all possible exits, entry roads. Buildings, abandoned or not. All while still in the car.

When he finds an old abandoned warehouse with some built in security perimeters he figures it's his good first bet.

Again, his gun does the talking. And his gun has one nasty bite. By the time he's tromped through the enemy troops he's dripping I'm blood because once he shoots he just keeps trucking. Dropping the entrance and eventually when he finds some men in the room with you it's all fists.

He wants a good fight and they don't even get a chance before Kyle has them on the ground giving them the beating of their life.

If he finds you uninjured he'll rush to you and make sure you know you're safe, then untie you and hold you in his arms, kissing you until he runs out of air.

"I'm here baby, I'm here. Come here, come on, let's get you home." Kissing your temple as he picks you up and carries you out. "Shh, I'm here now, I'm so glad you're ok." He kneels in front of you, untying you and pulling you into his arms.

"Kyle-" you look back at the men, bloodied and dead. You cling onto Kyle with tears in your eyes, shaking in his arms. "They were going to kill me...."

"I'd never let that happen. And their damn fools if they think they would get away with this." He looks into your eyes. "I'm right here ok? You're ok."

If you are injured he'll gently pick you up in his arms and carry you back, treating your wounds and then holding you close to him.

"Shh," He pushes a strand of your hair back, settling you in his lap, his bloodied hand running through the blood that runs down your nose and your lip. "They can't lay another hand on you." He shakes a little, tear rolling down his cheek as he kisses your forehead, relieved to feel your warm body in his hands. "I love you so much. I love you so much." He whispers.

Arms wrapped under your, cupping your back to keep you close to him throughout the entire night. Reassured whatever state you're in, you're home. You're back home with him and nothing will ever hurt you.

You comb your fingers over his scalp, glad to be wrapped in his strong embrace. "I love you Kyle." You whisper. Kyle nods, pulling you as close as he possibly can. "I love you even more."

Ghost 💀

You'd think this would be easy, but it's actually not. Simon's reaction would be similar but could go one of two ways. He'd either be blood thirsty, angry. Carnage, teeth ripping, flesh tearing, head snapping psycho angry. Or he'd be worrying about your safety, pacing back and forth looking for any way, any how he could get you back. Both emotions are present in both cases but one would be more dominant.

So let's say he's both. He finds the note and he's furious. He's absolutely blood red visioned. But he knows if he does anything rash it could cost you your life.

Again, he'd either be the type to go on his own or call his team. But he'd only call his team if he seriously, seriously thought maybe he wouldn't be able to save you and not himself.

The note was easy, finding finger prints on the thing was like second nature to scan. Identifying those fingerprints with help from a friend, also pretty easy.

With his 48 hour slot to either complete the deal or sacrifice your life he set off to find you. Armed to the teeth. Quite literally.

And once he got to the base you know what happens. Ghost do what Ghost does. Carnage. Blood and limbs torn. His gun being his main weapons but like Gaz was not afraid to get his hands soaked in that moment.

He wanted to go rage on the whole base but his objective was you. Snuck in, took out anyone in his way and found you.

If you're uninjured he'll rush to you and make sure you're awake. He'll immediately cut your bindings and pull you up into his arms. He can embrace you and kiss you when you're safe. But rest assured now that you're in his arms he won't let you go. He gets the car far enough away and pulls you into his arms, kissing you until he can't breathe.

He pulls you from the corner of the room into his arms. "I'm here, I'm here love don't worry." He holds you close, hiding you in his embrace as he brings you back out of the base and to the car. When he gets to safely away you start to cry.

"Simon," you cling onto him, shaking and relieved.

"I got you baby, I've got you." He whispers, pulling up his mask and kissing you. Kissing you until he was sure you wouldn't disappear into thin air. "I'm right here, I'm going to get you home." He runs his thumb over your cheek, relieved your alive.

He's lost family members like this before, he'd never want to lose you to that. And he almost did. He almost lost the most important person in his life.

If you are injured fuck stealth. All those men?? He'll slaughter and bludgeon all of them so badly their families won't know who their burying. That's that happens when you mess with people he loves. He gave them a chance to possibly get out alive if they hadn't hurt you, but they had. And that was the wrong decision.

"Where are you injured??" Simon cups your cheek, looking down to see the blood dripping onto your shirt and soaking your collar. He was furious, but he pulled you into his arms and held you close. "It's ok, they won't lay one more fucking hand on you. I promise. I'll kill them for touching you, I promise I will baby not one will be left."

He brought you to the car and kissed your nose. Once he'd gotten you secure and ok, he cocked his gun and finished off the last of that base.

When he returned again you cried into his chest while he held you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry love. it's over. It's over, I won't ever, ever let anyone hurt you like that again.

He brought you home and held you in his arms, refusing to let you go. He would never let anything hurt you. He promised. He would never let the evil of the world hurt people he loved again.

His grip was tight, running his hand up and down your back. He looked into your eyes, seeing your face for a long while before leaning his forehead against yours, tears finally swelling up in his eyes. "I'm so glad you're ok." He whispers, pulling you close again. He'd never let go.

Soap 🧼

John cries. When he comes home from his long leave, expecting a warm hug and a good meal. But when he comes back, the house quiet and empty. The lights off, the love of his life not there to greet him.

And when he finds the note that you've been dragged out of your home and taken hostage for money and information. He was scared, seeing the email at the bottom of the note.

You were one of the most important people in his life and he couldn't fathom the thought of losing you.

He's in tears and shaking when he sends a message to the email, waiting for an agonizing hour before he got an email back. A taunting message acting for the money with a photo of you, a knife to your throat. "Give us the money or your little lover gets it."

Now he was angry. He was sad and scared for you but he was also angry. He contacted Ghost and once he got information on the email and pinned where it was sent from he didn't hesitate.

He was strapped to boot with anything he would need. Hell he threw his favorite bazooka in the back and was off by sunset.

When he gets there he easily takes out the sentinels and gets inside, finding you tied up. He takes out the soldiers guarding you and rushes to your side, holding you gently. "Look at me love, I'm going to bring you home." He kisses your temple and hauls you into his arms.

"We're going home." He assures you again as he brings you outside into the cool air. He walks you out past the perimeter and flicks the button in his hand, the base going up into a flurry of smoke and fire. "No one will lay a hand on you, I promise."

If you aren't injured he's going to set up a bomb and blow the place sky high, sending flames into the night from the inside out.

If you are injured he's still blowing it up.

"Love, love can you hear me??" He tilts your head up, seeing the black eye and your bloody nose. He frowns, immediately undoing your bonds and cradling you in his arms. "I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore. Not one damn second more."

"Johnny.... It hurts." You whispered, clinging onto him for his warmth, his protection.

"I promise you love no one will ever lay a hand on you like this again. I swear to it never again."

He picks you up and brings you out of the base, once he's in the safety perimeter he blows the place sky high. Good riddance.

He won't let anyone hurt you. He loves you, and he vows to protect you with all the resources he has. He would never let you get hurt. He holds you close, maybe even gives you a nice welcome home to get your mind off what you went through.

"Are you really ok love??" He asked, watching you sip the hot chocolate he'd made you. You nod, cuddling closer to him in your PJs. "I know you'll always be there for me."

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, lips feathering a kiss to your temple. "Always love, I will always do what I can to keep you safe."

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley x you #john soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price x reader

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thefrogdalorian · 1 month

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My Pain Fits In The Palm Of Your Freezing Hand

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: When you and your Mandalorian companion are ambushed by a group of bandits, you hope that his stubborn nature will not make the task of treating his wounds any more difficult than it needs to be. But that is not the only obstacle. You also hope that the depth of your unrequited feelings for Din will not impact on your ability to care for him...

Word Count: 2.2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence briefly described, reader provides first-aid to minor, bloody injuries. ✯ Author's Note: A daydream about holding the stubborn tin can man's hand turned into whatever this is!! I've never written unrequited feelings for Din before but it made my heart ache in the best possible way. Hope you enjoyed!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Once the adrenaline of your latest brush with death subsides, your focus immediately pivots to caring for your Mandalorian companion. Although the heightened emotions leaving your body render you a trembling, shaky mess, your priority is to ensure his well-being. Maker knows he will never take care of himself.

As you approach the Razor Crest, you mentally scan yourself for painful areas. Casting your mind back towards the encounter as you try to recall anywhere you could have been hurt. After all, you will struggle to assist him if you are not healthy.

You recall that you had taken a couple of painful blows to the side during the skirmish, but your clumsy assailants had fortunately missed all of your vital organs. Aside from a pounding heart and dry mouth, you have mercifully made it through the ambush unscathed.

Satisfied that there are no immediate areas of concern to treat, you turn your attention towards Din. You cast your mind back over the altercation, towards any wounds he may have sustained. It is easier said than done, considering how many of them leapt out of nowhere and caught the two of you off-guard as you walked through the thick forest towards the ship.

You remember how many of them Din fought off with his bare hands. Well, through his gloves. Still, you know they will have provided scant protection, so you are keen to check them for injuries.

You momentarily struggle to remember what happened after Din had seen most of them off as you crouched behind a bush, hiding.

Then, you recall how one of your assailants had slashed at Din’s hands when he grabbed the remaining pair of them around the throat. It had been a frenzied attack, which momentarily worked as his grip loosened. Just when you had feared that all hope was lost and they were going to escape, Din brought his boot up to deliver a swift kick in the stomach to the slower of the duo, which sent them careening into each other.

Din had used many parts of his body, as well as all of his wits and expertise as a warrior to see your attackers off. He had done a formidable job, considering how much they had taken you by surprise.

Still, the state of his hands concern you.

You are pretty sure they sustained the most severe damage. Plus, as they are vitally important for everyday function, treating them takes priority.

It is settled... Din’s hands are the first area you will treat.

If he will let you, that is.

Your Mandalorian companion does not possess a reputation for being the easiest man in the galaxy to take care of... a willing patient, Din Djarin is not.

As the two of you ascend the ramp up to his beloved ship, you hope for both of your sakes that he makes this process as painless as possible.

“Din, sit down and let me get the medkit,” you order when you finally enter the familiar old ship's hull.

“Let me initiate the launch sequence first,” Din stubbornly responds.

“No,” you reply, shaking your head as you fold your arms, glaring at him.

“Fine,” Din mutters in annoyance.

It seems your sternness has done the trick.

Din perches atop a crate as you grab the medkit in preparation to treat his wounds. You hope he does not make it harder for you than necessary. Din has never made any secret that he is comfortable being fussed over. You are no stranger to the fact that he hates being taken care of like this, but if you do not tend to his wounds, you know he will never do so himself.

“Your gloves,” you nod towards the two-toned leather which covers his hands, “Take them off, Din.”

Din sighs and lifts his gloves beneath his helmet, seemingly biting at each finger to loosen them before repeating the process with his other hand. You feel like a voyeur and wonder whether you should turn your head and look away, as though his gloved hand disappearing beneath his helmet is somehow sacrilegious. Despite your inner turmoil, you cannot help but watch, unable to tear your gaze away until finally, he slides the gloves off and bares his flesh to you.

It is not the first time Din has removed his gloves in your presence, yet you still feel a thrill travelling across your body at the faintest sight of his skin.

For Din Djarin’s bare hands provide you with the tiniest peek at the man that lies beneath the cold, hard beskar. To catch a glimpse of the human side of the formidable warrior, the side of him you yearn to know entirely.

You remember how stunned you had been the first time he had removed his gloves in your presence while he was repairing a blaster several months ago.

You had been sitting elsewhere in the hull as he worked at the bench, tools spread out as he dutifully performed much-needed maintenance on one of his many beloved weapons.

A grunt of frustration indicated that the parts had been far too intricate to repair with his cumbersome gloves. So, he had pulled on each finger one by one, tugging them off. Seemingly uncaring about baring himself, even ever so slightly, in your presence.

You had tried your best not to look, but you had been unable to resist sneaking a glance at who he was underneath his armour. Although for the most part, you kept to yourselves, there was no lingering frostiness in your dynamic. You and Din were amicable, possibly even friends... if he could even have such a thing.

That day, you watched as his hands meticulously repaired his blaster. You noticed the smattering of dark hairs across the back of his hand, the surprisingly tanned skin and the calluses and scars which littered the back of his hand. It was a fascinating glimpse into the man who hid so much of himself from you, yet you still felt you knew enough about him to believe he was, deep down, a good man.

Your mind ran wild with so many questions. Was his skin a similar colour elsewhere on his body, or was it tanned because his hands were the only parts of him that saw the sun? Did the dark hairs on the back of his hand mean that the hair on his head–if he had any–was a similar colour?

They were questions you knew you would likely never get answers to. Nor did you expect to.

When Din had hired you to care for The Child and attend to maintenance on his ship, he had informed you of the rules regarding his armour and helmet. He would remove neither his helmet nor armour in your presence. You were never to question the reasons why or attempt to subvert this stipulation in any way.

That was why glimpsing a sliver of his skin had thrilled you. It had exposed the man you had been yearning to see in a way that was not a violation of his Creed.

Yet, when you see his hands this time the circumstances could not be more different. Neither could the emotions Din’s bare hands provoke in you.

Rather than feeling a thrill at the sight of his skin, now you cringe when you see the wounds that litter his flesh. His knuckles are split and bloodied, contusions that will surely colour shades of blue and black before eventually healing. There are also angry red gashes in all directions, a result of the bandit’s vibroblade making contact with his hands.

You steady yourself, mentally preparing for the gargantuan task of providing first aid to a stubborn Mandalorian. Din values all you do for him. You are certain of that fact, even if he does not often vocalise it. Still, having someone take care of him is an uncomfortable prospect for a man who has spent so long leading a solitary, nomadic existence.

When you finally take his calloused, yet soft, skin in your hand, Din sucks in a harsh breath at the sensation. The sound is amplified and crackles slightly through the vocoder. A reminder that, although he has bared some of himself, he is still mostly hidden from you. He feels like more machine than man sometimes.

You take a bacta wipe from your medkit, and the antiseptic’s sour smell lingers unpleasantly in the air. You hold Din’s hand still, as you carefully bring the wipe towards his skin, your brow furrowed in concentration.

“This is going to sting,” you murmur apologetically.

Din nods. You hear him inhale deeply as he braces for the first contact with the remedy. You prepare yourself to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to make the process needlessly painful for him.

At the first touch of the bacta wipe against his bronze skin, he jerks away from your touch, groaning slightly in pain at what you are sure is an uncomfortable, stinging sensation against his cuts.

“Hold still,” you sigh, flashing a disapproving glance in what you hope is the direction of Din’s eyes, hidden by his helmet.

“Sorry,” he huffs.

You cannot help how your lips curl upwards at the sight of him sulking. This hulking man, all broad shoulders and gleaming beskar, reduced to a wounded child. You wonder if he is pouting beneath his helmet.

Din flinches again when you resume your task, but this time, you do not chastise him. Instead, you are thankful that he is not making this any more difficult than it needs to be.

At least he has not told you he can look after himself.

Content with his behaviour, you diligently tend to Din’s wounds. You ensure each one is cleaned thoroughly with the bacta patch and then wrapped in a bandage. It will take a few days to heal, but he will have plenty of time as you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro again. Unfortunately, it will mean he likely has to refrain from being the hands-on father you know he loves to be.

When your task is almost complete, you move to sit by his side on the crate. You need to steady your hands by placing your elbows against your thighs as you wrap a particularly nasty wound, which already streaks angry red tendrils across two knuckles.

Din groans again in pain, and you quickly reassure him, “Almost there,” you whisper encouragingly.

With the task finally completed, you cannot resist gently taking his hand in yours. Ostensibly, to check him for any wounds you have missed. In reality, it is borne out of a selfish desire to feel his skin against yours. Precious contact you had been yearning for since you first laid eyes upon his skin all those months ago.

If Din notices the way you subtly lace your fingers with his and hold his hand in your lap for a few moments longer than necessary, he does not say a thing. Only when you disentangle your fingers from his grip does he speak again.

When you move to stand up from the crate, he places his arm across your stomach to stop you. You look at him questioningly, wondering what is going on beneath that bucket of metal.

“Thank you,” Din finally whispers, voice thick with emotion.

You move to open your mouth, to respond. Before you can, Din’s deep voice cuts through the stillness.

“For everything… I…” Din pauses, sighs deeply, then continues, “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

You simply nod, too taken aback to speak. It is unlike Din to be sentimental or emotional, not with anyone other than Grogu. It is part of what makes him such a respected and feared hunter. Yet, here he is, confessing his appreciation for you. It causes hotness to creep up your neck and face, embarrassed by his earnestness. Desperate to respond, but not entirely trusting that you can keep it together.

“You’re worth it, Din,” you smile, daring to believe that this moment will change something for the two of you. You hope he will finally realise the depth of the feelings you hold for him; that you have always held for him.

As you take his hand in yours once again, you sit back on the crate. You take up a more comfortable position and daringly lean your head against his shoulder. The pauldron is bitingly cold beneath your cheek. But with how warm your skin suddenly feels at his words, it is an altogether welcome sensation.

Din noticeably inhales at your gesture, and you momentarily fear you have hurt his tender skin. Until he relaxes once again and squeezes your hand as best as he can considering his injuries, a reassuring gesture that soothes your worries.

As you sit there holding hands in the relative darkness of the hull, you imagine a shooting star passing somewhere far in the skies above.

You wish on it and dare to dream that, one day, Din Djarin will love you, too.

Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #pleasE LET ME HOLD HIS HAND AND TAKE CARE OF THIS STUBBORN MAN #JUST ONCE PLEASE I M BEGIGIN YO UU1!!

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preseriesdean · 11 days

Note

if you don’t mind me asking, could you share some of your favorite fanfics or authors? thanks ❤️

oh hi hello!! yes of course!! i actually haven't read any spn fic in a while but i have spent a lot of time organizing my bookmarks. i'm going to assume that you meant samdean fic but i'll add a few non-samdean ones at the end.

authors!

@zmediaoutlet (deadlybride on ao3)

candle_beck (ao3)

@goshen-applecrumbledore (ao3)

whereupon (livejournal)

Linden (ao3)

sevenfists (ao3)

there are so many more great authors but these came to mind :)

fics!

i am going to list my forever-favorites first - the ones i would recommend to anyone and everyone, screaming-from-the-rooftops kind of love - and then many many more under the cut.

beloved by urchinesque (2016, 1.9k, NR, warning: death) It might be the gentlest thing that's ever happened to them.

in my opinion everyone should read this once. it's quick. they die. it's-- happy, somehow. beautiful. i think about it all the time.

Last Day on Earth by candle_beck (2009, 10.8k, E) A list of things to do if you only have one day to live, presented in inconvenient non-list form.

last year my best friend and i were pondering which fic felt quintessential to samdean for us and somehow settled on this one. i still agree with the choice.

Odysseus, American by coyotesuspect (2010, 10k, M) Dean finds Peter O'Toole's recording of the Odyssey in a bin marked “Audio" in Casa Grande's only used bookstore. The place smells like cigarette smoke and old books, and it reminds him of Sam. Stanford era.

my favorite stanford era fic. i think it captures dean's loneliness and desperation beautifully.

A man with his insides out and his outsides off by britomart_is (2016, 5.3k, E, time travel, underage) They say there are only two stories in the world: man goes on a journey, and stranger comes to town.

another fic i want everyone to read. it's so short and feels like a novel. sam is messed up and dean is in love and everything is miserable.

Breathing Hard by whereupon (2009, 9k, E) The day Dean figures it out.

this is so simple and yet-- everything to me. i can't think about dinosaurs without thinking about this fic, which doesn't tell you much, but you'll see. sometimes this is really all you need.

The Last Outpost of All That Is by gekizetsu (2008, 59k, E) The world ends while they’re asleep.

this fic has stayed with me my whole life. i thought about it even during my years away from spn and fandom entirely. they're alone and you don't know why and they build their life together and you end up wondering, is this hell or heaven? whenever i come across a screenshot of the last couple of paragraphs i want to cry.

see things so much clearer by deadlybride (2020, 11.7k, E) Sam's been acting oddly. Dean learns how to use the history on an internet browser and finds out why.

this is a fic that hits the spot for me personally so well. another favorite preseries fic. i love the idea of sam using livejournal, and of dean finding out this way.

Stay The Distance by lazy_daze (2011, 24k, E) Sam is dependent on Dean's touch and closeness after the wall falls - Dean's presence reminds him of why he chose to wake up, and keeps the memories at bay, allowing Sam to function.

i love enmeshment, and i love that here it's literal. i love that they're just sort of fine with it.

more fics below!

in absolutely no particular order whatsover. please check the warnings and tags on these before reading!

Recall by De_Nugis (2012, 6.3k, E) Sam's having a hard time telling what's real and what isn't, especially when it comes to some voicemails from Dean.

Living in god's blind spot by applecrumbledore (2022, 25k, E) Of all the situations Dean didn’t need his dad to see him in, ‘getting off to being pushed around by a guy’ was in the top three. And ‘a guy’ was a massive glossing-over of reality. Any guy—any other guy—would be bad enough, but Sam was fucking cataclysmic.

Almost At Home by balefully (2008, 24.3k, E) Sam graduates from high school in early June in rural Tennessee. He and Dean start the summer with an all-nighter of celebration; the day after, while both fight hangovers, John calls to assign them their first hunt by themselves.

they said it was the fall of man by jukeboxhound (2016, 7.4k, M) Sam gets his soul back on a Monday.

When I Fall Asleep It Is Your Eyes That Close by britomart_is (2009, 1.9k, E) Post-Season Two. Sam is alive. Dean is happy.

Life As We Know It by sevenfists (2007, 13.7k, M, curtain fic) On the morning that Sam woke up, Dean ran five red lights on the way to the hospital, his half-empty coffee cup sloshing in the holder.

tied up like two ships by orphan_account (2014, 3.1k, E) Dean liked to hold hands.

Gospel Truth by Cerberuss (2020, 15.2k, E, case fic) ‘DOES YOUR BROTHER KNOW THAT YOU WANT HIM?’ Individually placed letters, bold and tinged brown with the weather. Sam can’t look away and he prays, dream dream dream.

Buy You A Mockingbird by candle_beck (2011, 10.3k, M, underage, outsider pov) A genuine horror story.

because you want to die for love by hathfrozen (2021, 27.3k, E) Sam and Dean settle into their Heaven—and into each other, too.

the constant vow by deadlybride (2022, 119k, E, fem dean-ish) They've just finished up a pretty standard job and are killing time in snowy Wisconsin when Dean wakes up no longer looking like Dean. That's just the start of their problems.

This Fortress Made of Us by mickeym (2009, 10.8k, E) Sam really didn't do very well without his brother. Coda for Mystery Spot.

State of Love and Trust/As I Busted Down the Pretext by cormallen (2010, 2.9k, M) When you know exactly what your brother's thinking, there are some chances you just don't take.

Quiet with the Rain by Linden (2014, 5.3k, T) Dean can spot an undercover cop at thirty paces, a hooker at twenty, and rims that will match his baby's at ten. But the fact that his little brother is in love with him—that, he can't see worth a damn.

have a cigar by deadlybride (2020, 5.6k, E) What happened with Andy and Ansem unsettles Sam. Dean doesn't seem worried.

Heart Shaped Balloon by winsive (2022, 18.5k, E, underage) Sam and Dad are fighting. No surprise, but it's the weekend before Valentine's Day and Dean isn't missing out on the chance to bang a cheerleader just to console his bratty little brother. He does bring back a heart shaped balloon for him, though. It's not supposed to be cursed.

Bare by gracerene (2022, 2.2k, T) Of all the things Dean hasn't done before, Sam never expected something as innocuous as skinny dipping to be on the list.

Speechless by candle_beck (2008, 11.2k, T, case fic) Dean loses his voice and their rapport is only moderately impaired.

Like It Was Yesterday by nomelon (2014, 4.9k, T, fem dean, amnesia) Sam can't remember a time when Dean wasn't there. Dean is always with him. Sam's whole life, there's never been anyone else.

Like a Ghost with Two Voices by Dyed_Red (2022, 46k, E) To cure Dean from the Mark of Cain, Sam has to let Dean, in all his demonic glory, possess him for 28 days. It goes about as well as expected.

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) by orphan_account (2021, 5.9k, E, pwp) Dean really likes the way Sam smells.

lost in yesterday by margaryes (2023, 1k, NR, john pov) John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.

Unraveling by Linden (2017, 855 words, E) No, he’d said, the first time Sammy had tried to kiss him, sixteen and half-drunk and stupidly beautiful, even though he’d wanted so badly to say yes.

pack up the moon by deathdreamt (2021, 5.9k, T, pre-slash) Sam storms back out from their room, his backpack on and his duffel hanging off his shoulder and isn’t it kind of tragic that his whole life fits in two bags. He looks suddenly much younger than he is, eyes shining. John is back at his guns, whiskey at his elbow, and Dean can hardly believe how rapidly his life is cracking down the centre.

Yesterday, minnesota by applecrumbledore (2022, 30k, E, case fic) Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope.

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness by orphan_account (2021, 5.6k, E) Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. (soulless sam)

The Palm Oasis by fictionallemons (2022, 12.3k, E, underage) John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam.

Other Brothers by homo_pink (2020, 7k, M, underage, outsider pov) A callow boy can go from infancy to someone’s lover in the space of two wildflower summers.

Leader of the Pack by astolat (2007, 14.9k, E) Teaching old dogs new tricks.

Underground Wires by eggnogged (2012, 15.8k, E, fem sam, underage) It’s hard enough being a teenage girl even without all the extra crap: they move around all the time, her family is as far removed from normal as it’s possible to get, and she’s in love with her older brother. Sam has no control on any of it, she’s just trying to stay afloat.

Multitude of Sins by Linden (2015, 4.4k, T, outsider pov) Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.

Like Arrows in the Hands of a Warrior by ADeedWithoutaName (2018, 10.3k, E, underage, dub con-ish, john pov) John Winchester loves his boys, and would take a bullet for either of them. He knows that he's doing it right, the way he's raising them, the things he's teaching them. Not every problem, however, has an easy answer. Like what to do after an incubus case in which their target got his pollen all over both of John's sons.

You Can't Lose What You Never Had by nigeltde (2016, 5.6k, E) You can't spend what you ain't got, and you can't lose what you ain't never had.

Flagstaff by Linden (2014, 7.3k, T, pre-slash, john pov) John tracked Sam down in Flagstaff, four days after he got home to find him gone.

I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger by fleshflutter (2007, 3.8k, M, outsider pov) If Chase were a better friend, he might try to end the game now, before Brendan loses even more money. But if Brendan is a dick at Stanford, it’s nothing compared to how he is on break.

Cupid's Got A Gun by geckoholic (2012, 13.5k, E, non-con) Fuck-or-die, set in early S4. But they've been fucking for years, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. Ever since hell, Dean's in no hurry to get that show on the road again.

Someone Else's Blood by sevenfists (2006, 6.7k, E) The first time, of course, was an accident. (pretend dating)

How Many Floors to Realize by lazy_daze (2009, 26k, E, swesson) AU from the end of It's A Terrible Life, in which Zachariah decides to keep stringing them along a little while longer, because damn if they aren't somewhat entertaining, right?

Worthless cartography by applecrumbledore (2022, 15.6k, E) Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)

The Space Between Sense and Memory by orphan_account (2021, 4.8k, T) There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde (2019, 10.9k, E, case fic) When was the last time you trusted happy.

Crossed Wires by rivkat (2015, 10.9k, E) Dean thinks Sam is dead.

Crown and Anchor Me (or let me sail away) by Sena (2010, 23.7k, E, underage) Sam Winchester is fifteen years old, at yet another new high school in yet another state, he doesn't get along with his distant, distracted father, he's figuring out that he likes guys just as much as he likes girls, his clothes never fit and his limbs ache at the joint ever since his growth spurt started, he has to study for the PSAT and, oh yeah, he's a little bit in love with his brother, Dean, who's taken a break from hunting monsters to work at a local garage for minimum wage.

Wear Him Lika a Habit by sevenfists (2008, 2.2k, M) Their first kiss isn't an accident. It's anticipated well in advance, discussed for weeks, argued over, second-guessed.

Amor Prohibido by phoenixflight (2020, 3k, M, underage) They spent the spring of Sam's sophomore year living in a shitty apartment south of San Antonio. Every Friday night the clearest channel played three hour marathons of a Spanish soap called La Casa del Corazón. There was a mutually understood truce about watching it, because the alternatives were infomercials or creepy kids’ cartoons that futzed into static every fifteen seconds.

Open Road by Mollyamory (2010, 2k, T) Sam's old enough to know what's good for him.

It's the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu (2011, 38.4k, time travel) Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see.

North of Wednesday by Mollyamory (2008, 3.5k, G) Sam's behind the wheel before he realizes he doesn't have the keys. Coda to Mystery Spot.

non-wincest fic.

dean/omc. We Drank a Thousand Times by glorious_spoon (2010, 43k, M, warning: death) They meet in a bar fight in North Carolina when Dean is nineteen, broke, and desperate, then again when a hunt brings the Winchesters into town a few years later. Neither one of them ever puts a name to it but every once in a while, through the years, Dean finds his way back.

dean/cas: terror & desire intertwined by rupertgayes (2022, 39k, M) Faced with Castiel suffering a fate worse than death, Dean makes the decision to let Cas use his body as a temporary vessel. All things considered, Dean thinks, it could have gone worse.

gen, sam&dean: what lasts by deadlybride (2021, 17.2k, M) Not long after they move into the bunker, Dean loses a leg. Most of a leg. After the hospital, Sam brings him home, and they figure out how to live with what remains.

gen, dean-centric: To Repair Broken Men by procrastin8or951 (2015, 3.1k, T) Dad and Sam keep fighting. Dean can't fix his family, so he fixes things around the crappy apartment they are staying in.

dean/michael: our hour came round at last by orphan_account (2015, 1.8k, NR, pwp) "I want to be inside you," says Michael, low and velvet and hungry and that really shouldn't turn Dean on but it does.

dean/lucifer, dean/cas: exploratory by sp8ce (2022, 4.9k, E, non-con) One night, Castiel proposes he and Dean have sex. Except it's a little more complicated than that.

dean/cas: for a healthy heart by Askance (2013, 2.4k, T) A strange black box appears in Castiel's bedroom one afternoon.

gen, sam&dean: charmer & gentle by Askance (2015, 3.7k, G, outsider pov) The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.

dean/cas, past sam/dean: whose wings, though tattered, shall carry me home by fleshflutter (2009, 2.2k, T) There is a breeze moving across the field. It stirs the long grass in lapping waves like the sea. Castiel runs his fingertips through it and remembers flying.

#asks #fanfic #wincest #whatever it is #anon i have you to thank for getting me back into spn fic <3 i've been rereading some of these over the past few days #i was going to post this for ww yesterday but i fell asleep :( so here you go now sdfksdfh

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shanniethewr · 9 months

Text

"so love me. show me that you mean it."

"pardon?" lyney said, wide eyes speaking volumes of his bewilderment. you stood in front of him, remaining unfazed as the two of you spoke in the empty backstage of the opera epiclese, where no one would disturb the conversation you two held.

"you said you love me, didn't you?" purple clashes with yours, "yet you kept so many things from me... to think you'd be part of the fatui out of every organization...!" your voice trembled, so did your hands as your nails dug against your palms. lyney wanted to speak, his lips moved yet no voice could be heard.

"you promised to fix things between us... you promised to heal me, to gain back my trust! but after the events lately, i don't think it's possible to trust you again so easily." lyney's voice came, "i- i know... and i know that an apology wouldn't fix things so easily..."

tears adorned your eyes, threatening to fall yet you don't let yourself shed a tear. "so show me that you mean it. no more lies, no more deception... i don't want the lyney who had kept so much from me. i don't want the lyney who wasn't the actual lyney i knew to the point i questioned every aspect of our relationship if it was genuine or not."

"and i don't want us back if you don't trust me enough to tell me everything about you like i trusted you wholeheartedly with my life on the line..."

lyney stood frozen in front of you, a myriad of emotions ran wild to the point he wasn't able to identify the suffocating feeling he was experiencing. you were his rose, his beloved rose. but all roses have thorns, and your thorns have crushed his heart in your hold.

but you were right, to an extent that all lyney wished was to go back and make everything right, to show that he actually loves you. but time was irreversible, and he shouldn't be wishing to fix the broken past, as fixing the shattered pieces of diamond was nearly impossible.

he should be fixing the present, his and your relationship.

lyney remembered it like yesterday, the order he received from his "father" to watch you, observe you, and to deceive you.

he remembered nothing but the mission in mind, to him, you were nothing but a task, a job lyney had to finish.

the interactions, conversations, and moments you two shared slowly increased to something becoming more frequent. yet to lyney, all he had in mind was his "father's" mission.

and like the quick flow of time, like clockwork, your relationship became more than just prey and predator. to lyney, you began to be more than just a task, a mission.

a friend, a loved one.

and suddenly, like the quick turn of pages in a book, you two became so much more than a close friend. lips on lips, skin on skin. loving affirmations were exchanged and the cob had found its pen, two lovers resembling those of swans, genuine and beautiful.

but everything went too quick, the prophecy, the primordial sea, the serial disappearances of young women, and the trial. and lyney faces the broken string of his and your relationship, the very thing he feared and wished for it to become nothing but a fleeting thought, a fleeting nightmare.

"i promise i will, no matter what. to me, you are my rose, my beloved. i didn't want things to end up like this but as they say, the harsh truth will all come to light. i'm... i'm so sorry and i know i deserve this but i will do everything to fix us... i cannot bear the thought of us no longer being together but i promise... i promise that i will do it, to fix this mess. so, please... trust me like you've always had and i'll tell you everything, trust me and i'll show that i truly, truly love you."

lyney didn't even noticed the tears that cascaded down his cheeks, smudging the tear drop on his cheek as his shoulders trembled. archons, he just wished everything was normal, all lyney wished was to have everything back to how it was before. he would do anything, anything to have you back in his arms.

moments felt like hours, years even. but lyney gasped upon feeling your arms wrap around him, feeling your tears on his chest as you too, weep.

with hesitance, lyney pulled you into a tight embrace, having no intention of letting go soon as you two quietly cried in each other's arms.

tonight, after a stunning magic show was spent in the empty backstage where the dam had broken along with two lotuses emerging after, a symbol of two lovers getting back up, far stronger and beautiful than ever.

you can't separate two swans who had become each other's mates after all.

— © wr.shannie created on 9.03.23 finished on 9.03.23

( lowercase intended + not proofread )

do NOT copy or plagiarize my work!!

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #reader insert #genshin lyney #lyney #lyney x reader #fontaine #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios

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neverendinglabyrinth · 10 months

Text

Analyzing 35 Portland Row:

Back at it with my set decoration posts, but lets overanalyze 35 Portland Row, shall we?

I love the way most of the house seems untouched, like it was frozen in time. Presumably, Lockwood never really "redesigned" the home from its original state, maybe a couple of changes here and there (which are more noticeable as we move on to other rooms) I say this, because of the contrast between pristine and messy in the areas.

The entryway:

I assume that the perspective pictures were taken as a way to assess how the set was going to look, in perspective 1 you can see the pillows on the bench missing, and in perspective 2 the clothing rack/hanger are completely missing.

On screen, we see that contrast I was talking about, you can see the way the clothes are almost stacked on that clothing rack (we can see George's coat, for example) I regard this as the kids respecting the space, since it is Lockwood's house they, most likely, don't want to trash it with their personal mess (or maybe George is the one that sets the 'mess-boundaries' to lighten the cleaning work).

On the other side of the spectrum we see the neat decorations and respected vases (respected as in, not using them as holders or trash bins) and the well cleaned masks and antiques hanging on the wall.

The Living Room:

This room is the "look how professional and neat we are" room, it is (by far) the cleanest one of them all, here is where they receive people and it is evident that they don't use it much by themselves, I know this because of the alarming lack of books laying around. I promise you, in Portland Row there are books EVERYWHERE.

Proof:

(these are just from the first couple episodes)

The Library:

I would argue that this is the "let's talk" room of the house, because it's the place where all of the information is. This is the room with the most "Lockwood flare", plus it's the perfect place for me to talk more about the messiness contrast.

In the scene where Lucy goes to talk to Lockwood, she has an apple core in her hand and this madwoman sets it ON THE TABLE (outrageous) but she looks for a spot where she wont ruin the table OR the books beside it. THE SELECTIVE MESS, PEOPLE! And Lockwood doesn't care, he just smiles, thankful.

Also there's a piano on the corner. (Hey! Locky, play Piano Man!)

The Kitchen:

Lockwood & Co's kitchen my beloved <3

By far my favorite room of the house, it is so cozy! From the spice rack, to the pot holders, to the kitchen utensils, the DETAILS. I'm in love, I love it.

And of course, the thinking cloth. The kitchen is the heart of Portland Row 35. And the crumbs on the table mean the world to me. LIKE DO YOU GET IT? DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE SIMBOLYSM OF CRUMBS ON THE TABLE?

I love kitchens, and I love set decor. That's all I have to say.

The Rooms:

Last sections of me nerding out about set decor, I promise!

Lockwood's Room:

It's safe to assume that Lockwood doesn't spend much time in his room, so it stays mostly neat. Probably only in use when he's sleeping or getting changed, and most of his time is spent in the library or in the kitchen with the others.

Lucy's Room:

Okay, this room is a set decor work of art. Why? Well, because it is a prime example of a characters personality shining through in a new space.

Not only does it show what it was before (a storage attic) but it also shows what it is now (a personal room) AT THE SAME TIME! You can see the way Lucy organizes everything contrasted with the way it was laid out before.

(look at the shopping bags she was carrying when talking to Kipps beside the bed, CONTINUITY!)

George's Room:

One thing about George is that he is way too excited about The Problem to care about actually cleaning and organizing his own room.

I think that his room is a physical representation of how his brain works. Books on the floor, papers stacked over anything, post it notes on the wall. You can just see the way his brain jumps from one thought to the other by the way his room is laid out!

The set decorator credits: JUDE FARR

So that's it! Im sure i missed a couple of things so if you want to add your observations, please do! And if i made any mistakes or incorrect assumptions I apologize, i am by no means and expert, I just like the subject.

#l&co #lockwood and co #lockwood netflix #locklyle #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #l&co. netflix #set decoration #35 portland row #neverendingthoughts #lockwood & co

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kyber-kisses · 1 year

Text

It’s You

Captain Rex x Jedi!reader

Summary: you run into Rex in what could only be the most awkward moment of your life.

Warnings: none just severe fluff

A/N: I came up with this while I was in the shower so please enjoy!

Nothing could ever go easy for you could it? You swore every day it was just one thing after another of unfortunate events.

Like today for instance. You woke up twenty minutes late for a mission debrief, then afterwords all the caf in the mess hall was cold , the the mission on Sereno went sideways and you and Ahsoka had to go pull Anakins ass out of the fire, and then your beloved Delta-7 interceptor got damaged and was now currently in the hangar with its insides all over the place as the mechanics tried to fix it.

And now for some lovely reason the refreshers on the level of the Resolute where the Jedi quarters were were malfunctioning.

All you had wanted was a hot shower.

You smelled bad and your muscles ached and you were tired beyond all get out.

And so that’s how you found yourself here. in a bold spur of the moment decision you had thrown your usual hygiene items into a small pack, snuck yourself down several floors and into the empty barracks of 501sts Torrent Company. The refreshers beyond their bunks were vacant and would be for another hour.

More than enough time to wash the filth of the day of your body and be gone before anyone came back. The lingering smell of cleaning chemicals clung to your nose as you entered, the motion sensor lights flickering on as you did.

At least it was clean.

Then again why wouldn’t it be? Rex kept his brothers more organized than most. The captain of the 501st wouldn’t dare let their living spaces fall into disarray. Plus tack on the fact that Fives pulled some idiotic move about once a week that landed him with cleaning duty and bam! They were sure to have a clean area for a majority of the time.

You just had to make sure you were quick. And it wasn’t that you were afraid to be seen naked in their barracks. . . More like- how would they react if they saw their naked general in their barracks, you know?

In other words you weren’t up for the awkwardness that could come from this all.

You just had to get clean and get out before they all got back from the mess hall.

Easiest mission ever.

Choosing a random stall, you started the water before shedding the many layers of your robes, folding them neatly on the bench that ran the length of the room as you did. Steam slowly crawled up the mirrors, turning the atmosphere humid as you finally ventured under the warm spray of water.

The water came hot and ample, running in rivulets down your bare skin before disappearing down the drain. The pressure of it wrapped around your body, massaging it just right as you allows yourself to relax.

Yes. This was what you had needed. Peace and quiet and—

You were halfway through scrubbing shampoo into your scalp when the silence in the large room was broken by the sound of quickly approaching footsteps accompanied by a rather foul string of curses.

Quickly smoothing your hands over your head to press any remaining soap out of the way, you wiped the water from your eyes before peeking your head out of the curtain for your stall.

Even in your motionless stance you nearly slipped at the sight of Rex entering the room, the captain busy trying to scrub something off the collar of his blacks with a rag as he did.

You had been hoping no one would enter while you were here. . . But if it had to be someone at least it was Rex.

“I didn’t know you knew such a wide array of curse words.”

At that you had never seen the captain move so fast. He tripped slightly, hanging reaching out to catch himself on a sink as his other went to his chest.

And then it only grew more amusing when he found your eyes. Almost insanely you watched as a deep red crawled up his face.

“G-general!”

“Sorry, wasn’t my intention to scare you.”

Seeming to notice how his own cheeks had turned red, Rex spun quickly, hand going to the side of his face to act as a divider to give you privacy. “Just wasn’t expecting to see you here General. Though if it’s not too much to ask; why are you here exactly?”

“Some idiot broke a water pipe on my level, and seeing as I smell like garbage I thought I could sneak down here before I went insane.” You explained, Tilting your head slightly as you spoke. “Sorry for intruding on your space.”

“Understood. And no apology needed.” Rex shuffled awkwardly. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

But before he could venture more than a step toy stopped him. “And what happened to you?”

Turning his body slightly in your direction, Rex looked at you before looking down at his armor and blacks. “Oh ah, Fives got a little too enthusiastic with one of his stories tonight, spilled spotchka all over me.”

“Whered he get that?”

At that Rex let out light huff of amusement. “I don’t even wanna know.”

You were silent for a moment a toy watched him. Despite having seen what he was capable on the battlefield— he was adorable. One minute he could be barking commands and planning battle strategies and the next he would be the most endearing, socially awkward person you had ever met.

He made your heart melt.

“Well if you need to rinse off you’re welcome to join the party .”

At your words you watched Rexs eyes widen slightly, the pink returning to his cheeks and with that you realized how that might of sounded.

“I, I meant that in the most non-creepy way possible!” You quickly added, “and I did not mean that to sound like an invite to join me in here- i was just trying to say don’t let my presence stop you from showering yourself—“The sudden rambling made you wince and before you could say anything else stupid you pulled your head back behind the curtain.

Ok. Well that was definitely not part of your plan.

And that was a whole other level of embarrassing. Kriff you almost preferred the option of a bunch of clone troopers seeing you buck ass nude.

Cursing under your breath you turned to face the water, resisting the urge to hit your head repeatedly against the tile wall.

What the hell was that you idiot?

In that moment you wanted nothing more than to melt into the drain and disappear. Things like that didn’t normally happen. You weren’t known for stuttering or feeling embarrassed. You approached every situation head strong and with a smile.

. . But when it came to Rex? Oh boy when it came to Rex there were moments when that blonde captain turned you into a gooey puddle. He was so kind and brave and caring and a thousand other things you could only hope to be.

A few stalls down the sound of another fresher turning on made you turn your head, though the second you saw Rexs bare shoulders you turned back towards the wall.

Just focus on getting clean.

And that what you did, occupying yourself with scrubbing down every inch of your body in an attempt to keep your mind off the captain several feet away from you.

It was only when you were done that you came across your first problem; your towel was still folded on the bench. . . In the middle of the room.

Letting out a string of curses as you peaked your head out of shower you attempted to calculate the distance, because like hell were you going to scamper your naked butt out there with Rex in the room.

Maybe if you just—

Wrapping the shower curtains lightly around you and praying to the force that Rex wasn’t watching you, you leaned out of your stall, stretching out your arm as much as you could.

Kriff, still not close enough.

Letting out a huff of annoyance you leaned further out, balancing on one leg as you stretched even farther.

So close, if you could just move a little more—

The sound of Rexs shower turning off pulled you out of focus, and in a sudden rushed movement you slipped. One moment you were fine and the next your bare foot was sliding across the wet floor and you went hurtling towards the tiled floor. With fingers still gripping the curtain a series of rapid pops echoed through the room as you pulled it down with you, getting tangled in the fabric as you fell with a shout. As your body hit the floor your head made contact with the bench before you finally came to rest on the wet tile.

“General! Are you alright?” A sudden figure moved into over you, kneeling next to you with nothing but a towel around their waist.

Oh kriff. Let the force take you now.

“Rex?”

“Got a little tangled up did you?” He mused, a whisper of a grin on his face as he helped you sit up slowly.

“Not my proudest moment.” Clutching the shower curtain to your chest your free hand wandered to your temple, wincing upon the contact.

“I’ll go grab a bacta patch for that.” Rex breathed, pausing to reach behind you and the grab the towel you had tried so hard to get yourself. “This might do a little better than the shower curtain.” As he spoke a pink hue returned to his cheeks before he rose to his feet. “I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

And with that he departed the room, leaving you in a stunned silence on the still wet floor. Once his figure had disappeared you shed the curtain, moving swiftly to wrap the towel around you instead before moving yourself to the bench.

Damp hair clung to the side of your face as your fingers once more moved to the welt on your temple.

Force, that did not feel good.

“How you feeling?”

As Rex returned, you watched as he crossed the room, now in nothing but his blacks. Goodness was he pretty.

“Like I wiped out on the floor of the freshers.”

A light smile tugged on the captain lips as he knelt down in front of you, peeling the wrapper off the bacta patch. “Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.”

At that a small laugh left you, your body staying eerily still as he applied the patch to your temple. There was a moment of silence that followed before you spoke.

“Sorry for intruding on your barracks captain. I thought I could be in and out before anyone got back from the mess.”

“Eh I don’t mind.just be glad it was me and not Fives or Jesse that walked in here-“

At that you couldn’t help but raise a playful eyebrow, watching as Rex realized how his words had sounded. “Oh?”

“I- I mean just be glad it wasn’t them because they never would have let you live it down. You know how they like to tease.” He rambled, sitting back on his heels as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Force he was gonna be the death of you.

Curling your fingers around the edge of the bench , you looked at the captain in front of you. “If I’m being honest I’m glad it was you. You make me feel safe, you respect me.”

“We all respect you General-“

“Oh I know, I know. It’s just. . . I guess I trust you the most out of everyone on this ship. I know you won’t tell anyone about this. . . Rather awkward meeting.” You admitted slowly, watching as Rexs face softened.

Another band of silence settled between you and after a moment you looked down at your feet.

“I should. . . I should probably get dressed.”

It was almost as if Rex had forgotten you were in nothing but a towel because suddenly his face went rosey and he quickly shot to his feet. “Right! Right, forgive me. I’ll Uh— I’ll go make sure no one else walks in.” Giving a rather awkward salute he turned and walked away, but not before you heard him cursing himself and his awkwardness as he punched the bridge of his nose.

With that you got dressed quickly, trading out your wet towel for a pair of sleep clothes and then draping your Jedi cloak over your shoulders.

With the rest of your belongings tucked safely in your pack, you threw it over your shoulders and head for the door, finding Rex standing guard just beyond the threshold just like he said he would.

“Thank you again, Captain.” Sending him a smile you watched as he jumped slightly, startled by how you had snuck up on him.

“Anytime General.”

“You know you don’t always have to call me that right? We are friends. You can call me by my name. I call you by yours all the time.”

Rex smiled at your words as he nodded. “I can do that.”

Somewhere beyond the barracks the two of you could hear the loud sounds of Torrent Company returning from dinner in the mess, Fives boisterous laugh echoing as they approached.

“I should get going before we are swarmed by your teasing brothers.”

“Might be for the best.”

With his arms folded neatly behind his back, Rex watched you walk away, only for you to stop and rush back to him before placing a kiss to his cheek.

“And just so you know, you’re my favorite of the bunch.” You whispered, placing another kiss to his flushed face as you did, this time lingering a moment longer. “Goodnight Rex.”

And with that you were gone, leaving the Captain do the 501st in a stunned silence as his face continued to heat up.

Force, you were going to be the death of him.

#the bad batch #star wars #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex imagine #kyber writes #star wars x reader #star wars the clone wars #star wars tcw

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mmorw · 2 years

Note

Now I think about the pregnant Ayato who makes Alpha do his every whim with tears in his eyes, saying that because of Alpha's intemperance, they ended up in this situation

YESSS HE WOULD 🤫

cw: just fluff, omegaverse n mpreg alr 🙄, and short thirst. first part!

!! English is not my first language 🤘 any spelling or grammatical errors, notify by dm.

“I can do it!” Ayato stretched out his shaking hands towards the messy papers taken between your digits, as if he was able to take them even if he had his fucking boba tea cup not in the way of holding them.

“No, you are fine like that.” you muttered under your breath, your hands moving the papers away to read them on the polished wooden table. Meanwhile, your partner simply gave a high angry sigh, leaning equally on the cushion beneath him once he watched you with his relaxed eyes.

Since Ayato's pregnancy was discovered and announced, Inazuma had nearly gone crazy, mainly because of the luxuries given throughout the clans and organizations by the eager arrival of a new heir, especially if it came from the head of the Kamisato Clan.

you had no choice but to start taking care of his jobs and errands at headquarters, stupid whims of his like buying or making his damn boba tea at three in the morning or stopping by any fucking store with baby stuff, only to take every single item of every single. fucking. garment.

is almost despicable, he takes advantage of that, of course he does! And although he wants to feel like he's participating in something, it's more than clear that he just sleeps and relaxes while stroking his belly all day long.

It's... a nice thing to see, really. An omega as sweet and cute as Ayato, carrying your child and then, between the two of you, raising the pup- taking the time to withdraw from the clans to leave the responsibility to Ayaka and enjoy some family time.

“You can... sign these things for a bit.” you handed him some ready documents, dragging them with your index finger to a corner where he was sitting, passing him a check mark with his initial and a pen so that he could give his word to the document read by you.

Ayato didn't even complain, his hands eagerly took the objects and he gently leaned forward, his belly resting on his crossed legs as his beady relaxed eyes quickly returned to rearranging the given mess.

You couldn't blame him, oh no no, of course not, with that teary face and furrowed brows when you just got the news of the medical results and yes, a rather anticipated but forgotten pregnancy knocking on your doors as if it were arrival on a stork.

but ah, maybe it was the fault of you two tho.

You didn't take care of the unexpected and now you were the servant of your beloved mate because the brat didn't want Thoma to take care of him or he would start crying and yelling at you to take care of one way or another. Between having to see your responsibilities as Clan Chief, along with Ayato's whims and leading an entire federation across the country; it was a complete mess.

“If you knew how to behave yourself, this wouldn't have happened.”

“shut up and keep signing.”

Ha, maybe you shouldn't have said that if you didn't want an Ayato sobbing tenderly at your side just right now.

#dom male reader #dom reader #alpha reader #alpha! reader #genshin omegaverse #omega ayato #genshin impact

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baby-jaguar · 6 months

Text

Part 1: Meeting John Price

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 3,131 CW: None

AN: My beloved! John Price! Would love to hear your thoughts and comments, as well as any questions. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the following for the explanation and precursors to the scene!

Introduction, Biography

--------

Truthfully, you’re glad you didn't have many friends in town, as it meant no one to share unnecessary secrets with, nor did it spread any word of what you were up to in your free time.

However, that isn’t to say that you trusted at least some people in the small town you lived in, such as your boss.

A scapegoat for you to write your correspondence letters was that you simply had to stay late on the farm, working extra long hours because of something that was messed up, or because you knew your parents wouldn’t argue with the fact that you were getting more money.

Feeling that you were a decent enough candidate for John to consider since you are working as a farm hand already, you decided to write your first correspondence the next day. Once sent, you received a letter back from him four days later and by god, did he sound like such a gentleman.

You were able to soon confide in him on how you wanted to leave town, start fresh, but stick with what you know since you did work on the well-known “Loyal Laswell Farm,” and help out around their farmhouse with common jobs such as sewing, cooking, and even making a dirty barn looked organized- a man’s dream spouse.

With only two weeks passing and less than a handful of letters to be traded, you already had money and an open invitation to John’s ranch. Through your correspondence, John stated that he had already known of Kate Laswell, her having been a long ago buyer from him and even she had sought out advice on taking care of her lambs long ago.

John connected the dots and realized that you were the trusty youngling that she hired early on; He already trusted your morale if Laswell had kept you after all this time. (And if Laswell did gloat about you once in a while, that was a secret between her and John.) After finding out about the mutual connection, you confided in her.

Kate, already knowing of your family’s vices, was pleasantly surprised by your major turn of life events and how quickly your fate had been granted to you in the form of Price. She made sure your head was screwed on straight enough that if it didn’t work out, you could mail her and she would help you figure it out from there…

Kate’s wife chimed in and said you and Price would be a great fit.

The two women gave their aid to you in the form of gifting you your favorite horse to ride off on during your long journey. You only brought a handful of items from your parent's house, slowly, and used the remaining amounts of wardrobe you kept at the farm to pack up. With two bags packed and some food, feed, a gun being courtesy of Laswell’s wife, and a celebratory pack of cigars for John (Kate’s wedding gift), you were on your way.

It only took you a week by horseback, luckily traveling near the Oregon Trail that had already had sorted paths cleared and lived-in, you only needed to stop when you and your horse did. You were able to send John updated letters, but were not able to receive them due to constantly being on the move. This left you daydreaming about him.

John wrote that he is originally from Deadwood, South Dakota. He comes from a long line of lawmen and followed in their footsteps in his early adult life. However, as John became sheriff and notorious for his hardened but fair demeanor, he began to see the justice system slip through the cracks right in front of him. Murderers would walk away and many left unjustly prosecuted in other cases. It angered and dwelled on him so much that he retired early on. John soon found his solace in the quiet mountain town of Pitkin, Colorado. John describes himself as a proud man who is protective and respectful, an old soul who loves his whiskey - and is looking for his strawberry wine. He is a weathered man who can fix any problems of yours, all at the cost of a shoulder to lean on and someone to spend the rest of his days with.

Coming into Pitkin, it brings forth a small town nestled within luscious green mountains and a strip of shops down the main road that highlights most of the town's activity. Riding through, you were an obvious sight to be had; a new face set out on a horse with minimal bags packed on the back. You didn’t seem like a traveler, no, you seemed like someone who was on a mission to find something- someone.

Smiling and giving small nods towards those who stare, your cheeks have a faint blush from the attention as you ride down the strip and toward the end of the town. Soon, the signs have a label of a bull, a common connotation of a ranch, causing you to garner up a bit more hope and hold your head high as you click your horse into a canter.

The sound of your horse's hooves thundering on the ground cannot beat the thrum of your heart; riding over the hill, you’re greeted with a breathtaking view of the Alpine mountains that dip into a valley with an absurd amount of leveled planes that make you believe the land was spread flat by an inviting entity. Your eyes come into focus on small black dots that move before you make out to be the shape of cattle grazing across the green and flowing grass.

There sits a house atop the hill that is before the dip of the valley, where a fence surrounds a large barn that is directly adjacent to the house. You bring your horse to a slow walk as you take in the view of the wooden house; it's a cabin-styled home but large in the additions that have been formed around the sides, making it one of the bigger houses in town. The barn rivals its size by double, and the open stalls along the side let you glimpse into the hay-filled homes of horses that linger near the fences. You have to do a double take when you see movement in the barn that is all too human-like, then pulling the reigns of your horse once a few feet away from the entrance to stop and watch.

A man stands, low grunts leaving him as he stretches his back before grabbing a hay bayle and beginning to break it up. He wears a worn-out pair of jeans and a cowboy hat as his low whistling breaks the silence between the surrounding horses neighing at your new appearance. In an instant, you know immediately this is John.

To your surprise, your horse greets the others in a sharp jeer of noise, causing him to turn around in surprise his eyes dart up at you.

For a second, you’re humored at the look he gives, not expecting something so sweet as you to ride into his ranch and most likely expecting someone within the town to come to bother him.

But in an instant, he knows exactly who you are.

After his shock wears off, he sets down the hay and reaches up to take his cowboy hat off and place it on his chest as he walks toward you. Letting out a low whistle, his eyes roam over you with an enamored stare. “God was just showin’ off when he made you, sweetheart.” Comes the low timbre of his voice, sending a small fire of desire shimmying through your vertebrae.

A soft smile graces your face in return, halting your horse for the time being as he comes up to you. “Good morning sir, would I be right to assume that you are John Price, the owner of this ranch?” You ask after a moment of your eyes trailing over him, taking in his face and ice-blue eyes while he approaches to help you down from your horse.

“That I am, Sweetheart. And I suppose you’re the one that I’ve been lookin’ so forward to meetin’, that right?” He asks in return, a small smirk taking his lips while he helps you lower down from the saddle. You smile at the extended hand, taking it as you swing your opposite leg out of the stirrup while feeling the touch of his other hand coming to caress your hip in a gentle fashion.

"I hope you've been as comfortable as one can be on a week-long ride," John comments softly, keeping his hand on you once you're firmly planted on the ground as his eyes scan you from head to toe. "How you feelin’?" He asks sweetly, now finding your eyes with genuine affection in his tone.

In response to his lingering touch on your hip, and feeling it travel to your waist with a brief squeeze before he lets it fall, you give him a small squeeze of the hand you're holding to. “Not too shabby; was able to get a room a few of the nights along the way. I’m thankful for the good weather I had while getting here.” You respond as you shift your saddle-sore hips for a moment and reorient your limbs to standing.

"You're not so shabby yourself, sweet thing'." He compliments softly as he releases you, then grabs your horse’s bridle and releases the bit before attaching his own lead to it, and a small feeling of surprise crosses your mind at how easily he handles new horses. Then, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on. Let me show you around." John leads with comfortable confidence, letting your horse sniff him while leading him to an open stall with some water and feed.

“Thank you for letting me bring my stallion here, Laswell gifted him to me when I was sayin’ goodbye. Said you may remember him from when he was a foal?” You prompt with a tilt of curiosity at the edge of your words while you join them in the stall to unload your bags and take the saddle off.

Looking back towards him, his eyes are looking over the horse for any identifiers, hints that would make him remember. “Not quite sure I remember this one, sweetheart. He got a name?” John asks in response once finished doing a sweepdown of his mane and a quick swipe of his hair coat.

“Laswell said he’s always been named Captain.” You answer curtly, now looking to see his reaction, if any.

It takes a moment for you to narrow in on the way the left side of his mustache twitches slightly before he breaks out into an all-out smile. “Well, I’ll be damned…” John trails out as he moves back towards Captain's head.

His blue eyes shine in the light of the barn windows, meeting yours for a moment while a boyish charm takes over his face. “This slick bastard got you all the way over to me?” John speaks with a gruffness that intertwines with amusement; the way his hands move to rub over the horse's forehead and nose showcases a glimpse of a gentle side reserved for his animals.

As you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, John catches your expression and gives a hearty chuckle in response. “I helped birth this one the day that Kate came up here to buy some lambs. Her wife was cryin’, thinking that him and his momma were gonna die.” He answers before moving to give Captain a pat on his chest, a huff of his breath coming out in response.

“He had both him’s front legs back during contractions. Had to help the mare by pushing his fat head on in to get him to readjust. Kate and her wife saw the whole thing.” He finishes with a hum and a distant look in his eyes only for a second, now coming back to your side and picking up a bag of yours.

“This all you got? Woulda expected a bit more from a woman movin' out west, especially to the cold mountains.” He states with a cocked eyebrow, eyeing as you bend down to hoist the remaining bag over your shoulder. You both give Captain a farewell tap before exiting the stall and heading towards Johns's house.

You wait on replying for a moment as you take a longer look at the structure, noting the wooden panels that exude a warm and weathered patina, a testament to the house's endurance against the harsh elements of the wild. The front features a symmetrical facade, with a steeply pitched gable roof that displays a combination of wooden shingles and iron accents. Windows are evenly placed on the front-facing sides of the house, and shutters open to allow glimpses into the inside.

“Didn’t have a lot to bring if I’m being honest. Just packed up what I liked and wanted, then left.” You answer with a confident nod, leaving it at that. “I did plan on finding some new or old fabrics to start making winter coats for myself.” You add on quickly, thinking over how quickly the chill must set in within the mountain valley.

You follow John onto the front porch of the house, “Ah, you do some of that fancy work or just plain work?” He inquires while gesturing for you to step inside the entrance. You’re greeted by a spacious entryway, designed to be practical and modest. The floors, made of polished wide planks, creak softly under the added weight of yourself next to John, a new soul to provide protection to in the house.

To the front of the entryway, is his living room, its centerpiece being a grand stone fireplace, providing warmth and comfort during the chilly evenings. Leather upholstered furniture invites warmth to the house, and you can see a good amount of hides used as a rug and even a throw blanket over the couch, while ornate coffee cans and some intricately shaped vases linger around the surfaces.

The sound of your mouth opening and closing resonates in the silence of you two standing there before John shuts the door softly behind you and ultimately snaps you out of your daze. “Um, just some plain work. Never had the time or materials to work on some fancy clothes, would rather make things I know I’m gonna use.” You answer while moving to face adjacent to where he stands in front of the door.

His eyes track your own as your attention comes back to rest on him, a small smirk tugging on the edge of his mouth. With a quick laugh, he moves to place his left hand along your back, his cold fingers sliding to the place between your shoulders. “Welcome home, Sweetheart.” He smiles while speaking softly, leaning over to place a light kiss atop your head.

When he moves back from your space, which you want to ultimately follow as you feel his warmth radiate next to you and already adore the way his voice dips impossibly lower when speaking so gently, his hand slides down to the small of your back and gives a small tap to lead you forward. “Come on, let's get you settled in.” He beckons you while walking to a door that is adjacent to the entrance.

Walking in, John’s bedroom exudes a haven, signifying his rest and relaxation at the end of the day. The warm, earthy tones of the wood and furniture create an internal warmth, in contrast to the view of the surrounding mountains of green and glimpse over the cattle that wander the land, the windows laden with lace curtains.

The bed was the average size for the master bedroom; The double bed sat its headboard against the wall to the right of the entrance, facing the windows. A large red quilt adorns the bed while the bed itself is a robust wooden frame with upright pieces of carved and sanded wood posted taller at each corner of the bed.

In the corner is another stone fireplace, where an armchair sits to serve as a place for John to unwind, read a book, or reflect on the day. A well-worn wooden dresser stands against one wall, its surface adorned with a few cherished mementos - a faded photograph of him on a horse, a weathered pocket watch that has seen countless sunsets, and a small collection of polished rocks, each one possibly a reminder of a special moment.

"It's not much." He pauses before speaking again, his tone becoming more personal. "And I'd love to have you share my bed when you're comfortable. However, if you need time to adjust, I can set myself up in the living room. I don't wish to pressure you if you're not comfortable yet."

The sweet and respectful offer doesn’t fly over you, and a small smile rises over your lips. “Thank you, John. That’s awfully considerate of everything you’re doing for me. I don’t want to burden you with sleeping on your own couch, I wouldn't mind.” You answer while slowly walking to the dresser, placing your bag down by the foot of it.

“It may take a few days to adjust and get to know you, but-” you take a second to turn around and look at his form with a small shy smile, “I don’t think I’ll keep you waiting long.” You finish as a soft blush rises to the apples of your cheeks. Your hands come to interlace together in the front of your lap as his heavy footsteps make their way towards you with a bright smile that borders a smirk.

He stops in front of you, holding eye contact as he places your other bag down. “Ain’t no way in hell I’d be letting you sleep on the couch, sweetheart. But, I do look forward to hearing your answer. When you’re ready for it.” He speaks in a gruff voice, eyebrows raised to make sure you're taking his answer to heart and understanding, his warm hands moving to enclose both of yours within his grasp.

Bringing your hands up to his lips, you watch with rapt attention at his mouth puckering and in turn, making his facial hair move in the action, then leaving a warm and gentle kiss on the back of each hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours while doing so, his blue eyes bring an inviting wave of ice- the kind you actively seek when you’re feeling too hot or need to wake up. “Now, how about I show you the rest of the ranch, babydoll?” He asks with a soft grin, pulling you just a fraction closer by the grip of your hands.

#i want him #call of duty modern warfare #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #tf141 #captain jonathan price #jonathan price #captain price x reader #captain price mw2 #captain price #captain price x y/n #cod mw2 #call of duty #WAUMOST #task force 141 #john price x y/n #john price mw2 #john price x you

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foervraengd · 3 months

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So after spending this weekend doing oil painting. I have some thought as one who has mainly been a Digital painter for most of my art life.

One major thing is that the benefits with digital art is everything but the ability to undo mistakes - you can fix mistakes in traditional art if you know what to do.

No, the true benefits of a digital art program is stuff like.. being able to just pick and choose colors from a whole ass color wheel! Or even better; being able to color pick the exact shade you needed.

With oils, you have to mix paints to get these shades. And its not a good idea to just mix them as you progress because whoops you suddenly ran out of space on your palette because you didnt know you have to actually organize where you arrange the blobs of paint and now you have a muddy mess to clean up!

Know what else is amazing with digital art programs? You can select and transform parts of the image to fix proportions. You cant do that with an oil painting. You cant copy a part of it and paste it elsewhere with the paints intact and workable.

Oh and also bucket fill tool my beloved. Do you think i can just pour a bucket of paint that will cover a specific area on my oil painting and not spill it all over my kitchen floor??

Like ctrl + z is the LEAST thing that ive taken for granted as a digital artist.

Like i swear after painting with irl oils all weekend i went back to clip studio and good god did painting suddenly feel so much easier. It felt like i took off weights from my legs rock lee style.

I still am really really enjoying painting with oils. Its just been a big self discovery on how i make art in different mediums.

#mirramblings

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ponyosmom35 · 5 months

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bookshelves and dinner

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter twenty five

synopsis: simon helps reader build a bookshelf, to thank him for his work she tries to make him a special dinner, which does not turn out the way she hoped.

Liability:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

“Si no, you don’t have to do that” she refuses crossing her arms

“I want to” he shrugs as he opens the massive box containing her bookshelf and takes out the individual items, organizing them.

“I feel bad-”

“Why would you feel bad? Its no problem”

“I do appreciate it, I was in way over my head with this”

“Thats why you have me” he smiles, she laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his cheek

She was thrilled by the idea, but had admitted that she had little to no knowledge about carpentry. Simon, with his patient demeanor, assured her that he would guide her through the process.

As Simon unpacked the tools and laid out the wooden planks, she gazed at the pile of materials with a mix of excitement and confusion. "Where do we start?" she asked, slightly intimidated by the task at hand.

Simon chuckled, "No worries, love. We'll take it step by step." He began reading the instructions.

Throughout the day, she attempted to contribute offering a pair of spare hands if necessary. Simon, with his gentle guidance and encouragement, turned the shelf-building session into a conversation about their most embarrassing moments. Laughing as she described how she passed out after someone drew her blood once in medical school.

As the day progressed, the bookshelf began to take shape. Simon's strong and steady hands worked tirelessly, making precision cuts and securing the wooden pieces together.

By the evening, the massive shelf stood proudly in the middle of her library, ready to house her beloved book collection. She marveled at the finished product, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. Simon, wiping sweat from his brow, smiled.

She realized one thing about him that day, not only was he so sexy when he built things for her, but his love language was clearly acts of service. He enjoyed doing things to help her. Her heart swelled as for what he didn’t say through his words, he showed through his actions.

"Thank you, Simon," she said, genuinely touched by his efforts.

Simon hugged her, "anytime love, why don’t we get your books on here?”

As they arranged the books together, she couldn't help but appreciate not only the sturdy shelf that now adorned her new library but also the patient and caring man who stood before her. Helping her place the books in a color-coordinated system.

After building the bookshelf together, she wanted to thank Simon by making him dinner. Unfortunately, her cooking skills didn't match her enthusiasm, and she ended up with a mess in the kitchen. Feeling upset, she couldn't hide her disappointment.

Simon, noticing her frustration, stepped in to help. He reassured her that everything was okay and suggested they work together to salvage the situation. She was relieved and slightly embarrassed, as she took a break while Simon took charge of the kitchen.

"Let's turn this around together," Simon said placing a hand on her shoulder, rolling up his sleeves.

She sighed tears of frustration filling her eyes. "I wanted to surprise you but I think I messed it up."

Simon chuckled and placed a kiss on her head. "Hey don’t do that, baby you’re fine. We'll figure it out, just talk to me"

She explained her vision, and Simon began to assess the situation, skillfully turning the chaotic scene into a more organized cooking space.

As they worked side by side, She couldn't help but express her disappointment. "I really wanted this to be special."

Simon smiled. "It already is special, love. This is 5 star dining compared to the shit that's served on base"

She laughs at the memory of the meals she had on base and sniffles. "there's that smile"

Once the meal was ready, they sat down to eat. feeling a bit guilty, started to apologize again. However, Simon stopped her with a warm smile.

"Listen, love, there's no need for apologies. I enjoyed helping with the bookshelf, and now I'm happy to take care of dinner. You don't have to do everything perfectly. I'm here because I want to be, not because of what you can or can't do."

She looked at Simon, appreciating his understanding. "But you deserve to be taken care of too," she insisted.

Simon chuckled. you've given me everything I could ever ask for just by being here. I appreciate your effort, but it's not about what you can or can't do. It's about us being together and enjoying each other's company."

She takes a bite of the perfectly grilled steak and looks at him in shock, holding her hand over her mouth. She'd never been a fan of red meats, however this was a masterpiece.

"how is it?" he asks

"this is the best steak I've ever had"

"It's a gift" he smirks

"how are you so good at everything?" she asks in shock

"remains to be seen"

"this is delicious"

"thank you love, name any dish and I'll make it for you"

As they shared a simple yet heartwarming meal, she realized that Simon cherished the simple moments they spent together more than any grand gesture. Their laughter echoed in the kitchen, turning what started as a kitchen mishap into a precious moment with the man she loved.

Tag list:@vivi123abc

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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months

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Hi! I see you've been writing some stuff for Tfp humans and because I'm a Tfp human enjoyer I thought I could request something:)) (I personally cannot write so yeahh)

Fell free to do it and feel free to not do it if you don't feel like it :))

So,

How about an AU where June and Fowler (due to some relic to stuff) get aged back to when they were 16/17. They were probably wildly different than their adult versions and seeing kids interact with 80's teenagers would be fun (I personally hc Fowler & June to be in their late 30s like 39 so if Tfp is in 2011 yeah they would be teens in the 80s)

Also,here are some of my personal hcs for teenage June & Fowler which you can use but if you feel like they would be different feel free to do that too :))

Fowler was kinda the high school jock/a chad as one could call it. Also probably smoked even though he was under age lol. Probably a rock fan who plays the guitar to impress girls lol

As for June,I see her to be a rebel who wanted to be in a biker gang/generally into motorcycles. Probably like Miko but more reserved :)).

Also have my teenage Fowler doodle as an add on cause it's relevant

Sorry that the ask is so long btw I feel strongly about tfp humans 😭

Feel free to take anything/nothing into consideration for the main scenario :))

EXCELLENT ART!!! SORRY THIS TOOK TEN BILLION YEARS TO GET TO!!!

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Relics are not known to mess with age. The few that have such properties do little to harm a mech aside from possibly get rid of a beloved mod or engraving. As such, the team left one of their various collected relics just... laying on Ratchet's workbench. It wasn't particularly dangerous, and Optimus's memories of the archives stated that it had slight rejuvenation properties. That was all. It was essentially a small healing device meant to be applied to minor wounds.

But of course, anything minor to Cybertronians tends to be definitively less so to humans.

June and Fowler were left to keep a vague eye on the relic while the team performed other tasks. They chatted and overall relaxed, but at some point, Fowler noticed the relic was a little too close to the edge of the table for his liking. Sure the thing was almost as big as he was, but in his mind, with the help of June, they could push it back onto the table proper and rest easy knowing there would be no surprise clank to startle them or upset Ratchet. Their attempt to be helpful very quickly ended with a flash of light, every living being in the base hurrying toward two sets of screams, and gasps of horror all around.

June and Fowler were younger, WAY younger. Upon analysis, both were in their late teens biologically. Ratchet and Optimus argued over what to do, and upon seeing the relic, the overall consensus was that the two rejuvenated humans would have to remain at base until Ratchet could figure out a way to reverse the effects. It was not ideal, but a few calls later, things were organized enough. The military would cover for the loss of both Agent Fowler and June for the time being, and the team would get to work.

The team got busy and went about their work and June and Fowler stayed put... mostly. Despite having memories and experiences to match their adult selves, both teens had opinions and feelings regarding things. All three of the kids collectively decided they did not in fact enjoy these younger versions of the adults they knew within... about two minutes.

Fowler was a piece of work. He paraded around like he was in charge, but had the unfortunate habit of shoving Jack around for the kick of it. He didn't mean it maliciously, but the constant shoving did get on nerves. It did not help that Fowler used his spare time to work out now that his back was not murdering him every two steps. A definitive six pack most certainly did not endear him to Jack with his twiggy body. Fowler tried to get along with them by playing the adult, but being young again put a certain spring in his step and before long, he was off to cause problems. Lifting weights and wearing absolutely cringe worthy headbands, Fowler took off gleefully. The children avoided him like the plague, especially when he tried to rope them into his terrible 80s workout video exercise routine.

June was arguably worse in that while she wasn't outright cringy, she did have a few... habits. Her haircut was enough for even Miko to look away in shame. June's choice of clothing prompted three in sync face palms. And to add to it, she was absolutely determined to continue being the adult in the room even upon immediately getting distracted with video games and Fowler himself. Her use of 80s slang and her determination to ignore the rules just enough to be annoying quickly got on the nerves of everyone, especially the kids. Don't touch that? Oh she didn't touch it, she just got really REALLY close to it while making direct eye contact. Don't bother Ratchet? Well guess what, Ratchet gets a few dozen questions anyway.

Both were menaces to society just by existing. The team personally didn't mind all that much. What difference did personality shifts in small squishies mean to them? However even Bumblebee cringed internally as he watched the various scenes with the duo play out. Arcee for her part got several pleas from June to let her try Arcee's alt mode. Fowler may or may not have also tried to get Bulkhead to let him use the forklift to play lob ball, kind of.

Chaotic monsters all around.

Jack could do nothing but pray for the team to work quickly for the sake of his sanity. Miko is enough trouble on her own.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #team prime #miko nakadai #rafael esquivel #jack darby #june darby #agent fowler #alternate universe #de aging #relic bs as usual rearing its head

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