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ragingbookdragon · 1 year

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A Buck's As Good As Any

Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

Word Count: 1.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of blood and cleaning

Author's Note: @lazybutsmexy Sara inspired the OT3 and now we're all gonna fall into this hole together. :) -Thorne

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It had bothered him for days, and Ghost knew it by the time he finally came to him and brought it up.

A mid-Wednesday afternoon, drizzling and dreary in Manchester like usual, Ghost was content to spend the entire day wrapped in the gray sheets and heavy comforter of their bed, resting up on all the sleep he never got whenever they were working. Soap had left the bed earlier a few hours ago to go shopping, only returning minutes after. He heard the footsteps coming the way to the bedroom.

“Do you think she left us and went back to the US because she was uncomfortable?”

Ghost cracked an eye open, staring at Soap who stood in the entrance. “Why?”

“Because she didn’t say ‘See you soon’ or anything. She just left. Didn’t wake us up.” He frowned. “She would’ve told us if she was uncomfortable being with us, wouldn’t she? I mean I know she said she wasn’t, but what if she was? What if maybe she felt like she was intruding on us? What if we didn’t—”

“You’re thinking too hard about it, Johnny,” Ghost muttered, shutting his eyes. “Relax. We’ll catch a flight Friday to the mountains to see her and ask her ourselves.”

“We are?” he asked.

“We’re gonna if it’s going to keep you from wanking all the time.”

“I am not wanking.”

“Wanking, whining, same thing.”

“You’re such an ass.”

***

“Is this…really where she lives when she’s not working?” Soap asked, staring at the small, cozy wood cabin.

Ghost nodded. “That’s what Price said. This is the address and from what the neighbors said, this is it.” He walked up the steps. “Her Dodge is here…maybe she’s home.” He knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer, but after a few moments no one did and he knocked again. “She’s not home.”

“Where do you think she is?”

He shrugged. “Call her.”

Soap took out his phone, dialing her number; he stared at Ghost as it rang, impatiently tapping his foot until the line clicked. “Hello? Dame? Are you there?” He glanced at Ghost as a tapping echoed across the line. “Dame? She’s not answering.”

Ghost took the phone and put it on speaker. “Dame, single click yes, double no. Are you near your cabin.

Click.

“Are you injured?”

Click-click.

“Are you okay?”

Click.

“What are you doing?” Soap asked and Ghost glared at him.

“She’s obviously doing something where she can’t talk.”

Click.

“What the hell’s there to do here? We’re in the middle of nowhere?”

“We’re in the middle of a giant fucking forest, Johnny. What do you possibly think she could be doing if she wasn’t in town or in her house?”

Soap blinked. “Is she hunting maybe? Didn’t she mention a season or something on the last mission.”

Click.

“How long will you be, Dame? Less than an hour?”

Click.

Ghost nodded. “Are you almost done?” They awaited another click, yet it never came. “Dame? Are you—”

A crack echoed across the land and the two turned in the direction of the noise, watching a flock of birds escape the tops of the trees in the distance.

Her voice came over the line. “I’ll be back to the cabin in about ten minutes. Key’s underneath the third stepping stone in the rock garden.”

The line went dead and the two looked at one another before shrugging and finding the key.

***

They stood on the porch and waited for her to return, squinting into the distance as an ATV drove up the driveway and she pulled up, turning the engine off. “What are you boys up to over this side of the ocean?” she asked, slinging the rifle off her back to lay at the side of the four-wheeler. “Sorry I didn’t talk. This guy walked right in front of me when you called. I couldn’t risk him getting away.”

Ghost and Soap walked over, seeing the deer laying across the back of the ATV, a gunshot through its chest. They watched as she picked the buck up with a grunt and started carrying it to the shed behind the cabin; they followed.

“We were coming to talk,” Soap said, curiosity in his eyes as she opened the shed door with one hand, holding the deer’s feet with the other before dropping it inside. “Isn’t that heavy?”

“About one-fifty,” she said, shoving the metal hook through the deer’s back legs before she pulled away and hauled it up in the air. “So why did y’all come? Y’know I was gonna be back in a few weeks, right?”

“What?” his voice was pitched in confusion as she slid a bucket under the carcass.

“It’s hunting season here,” she muttered, wielding the cleaning knife with expert precision. “Step back, or you’ll get guts and blood on you.” Neither moved as she dug the knife into the deer’s chest, cutting cleanly all the way to its belly. “I tend to fly home during the seasons so I can shoot some game to have meat when I get back.”

They watched as she cleaned with skill, seemingly unbothered by the steam rising around them. The scent of blood was thick in the air and Soap had to step back outside to breath a little; Ghost remained. “What are y’all here to talk about?” Dame asked. “Can’t imagine it’s something unimportant since y’all flew halfway across the world.”

Before Soap could even say anything, Ghost deadpanned, “Johnny was afraid you were uncomfortable being in a relationship with both of us. That you were intruding. So, here we are.”

“Ghost!” Soap griped and she laughed.

“Oh no, I’m not uncomfortable boys,” she said. “Like I said, it’s hunting season. I had to get back to get a good buck before season ended. Can’t shoot bucks out of season or I’ll get fined and lose my license.”

“What’s a buck?”

“Male deer. Doe is a female,” she explained, pulling the deer by the leg to its antlers. “He’s about a thirteen pointer.” A grin pulled her lips. “Oh man, I can’t wait for Jackson to see this. He’s gonna shit a brick.”

“Who’s Jackson?” Soap asked, crossing his arms over his chest and she snickered.

“Easy there, boy, he’s an old friend of mine. And I say old because he’s seventy-five.”

“Oh…”

Ghost glared at him. “Will you quit being jealous? She’s not seeing anyone but us.”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Simon. He can’t help it.” She smiled at them. “This is going to take me an hour or so. Y’all go inside and get comfortable. It’s cold out here.”

Ghost didn’t have to be told twice, marching back up the way they’d come to go inside, yet Soap remained and she looked back at him.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” she questioned, wiping her hands on the apron. “You’ve got thinking eyes on.”

Soap shifted his weight between his feet. “Are…are you sure you’re not uncomfortable with this?”

Dame sighed and set the knife down. “John, at first…I was. I didn’t feel like it was a good idea to come between, no, join you and Simon. It did feel like I was intruding in a relationship. But,” she said calmly, gazing at him with a softness. “I know that you feel the same about me that you feel about Simon. It’s how I feel about both of you and how he feels about us.” She made sure her hand was dry, even if it was covered in blood, and held it out for him to take; he did so. “I didn’t leave because I was uncomfortable. I left to come home and get things organized for next season.”

Soap frowned. “You only left a note. You didn’t wake us up.”

“I know,” she murmured. “And that’s on me. My flight left early, and I didn’t want to disturb you both. We three barely get enough sleep as it is.” She squeezed his hand. “Next time, I’ll wake you both up. I promise.”

“Next time,” he griped. “We’re coming with you.”

She laughed. “Alright, boy, if that’s how you feel about it.” Pulling away, she grabbed the knife again. “Now go inside, would you? I’ll be back in when I’m done.”

“Can Ghost and I go into town?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because without me, you’re gonna get in a bar fight with some good ole boys and I do not want to explain to Sheriff Doherty why my boyfriends beat the shit outta the entire bar.” When he said nothing, she turned, seeing him wearing a dopey smile. “What.”

“You called us your boyfriends.”

“Go inside or I’ll clean you with this knife next,” she threatened, waving the knife at him and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine, lass, I’m goin’.”

As he turned, she called out, “John?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you and Ghost came to see me.” She smiled at him. “I missed you both.”

He smiled back at her. “We missed you.”

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vivithefolle · 1 year

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Remember when you wrote an answer on Quora to a question that was something like, "Who would HP characters be in omegaverse" and you wrote that Ron would be omega and Hermione would be alpha. Well, I just realised the pairings in Omegaverse are never F!Alpha/M!Omega. So to clarify, Ron being an omega wouldn't be uncommon; Ron mating with Hermione though.. Also this trope is giving me some cursed OT3 ideas (all consensual, of course), that keep me up at night. What have you done to me?😭😭

[Warning: discussion of sex] The infamous Quora answer about the Omegaverse

I'll keep the rest under a Read More in case people don't want to see that particular trope being discussed!

I think the reason why F!Alphas in general are so uncommon is because female characters are given very little attention in the Omegaverse. The trope started out as a kinky request for a one-shot with two male characters having sex; since there was gay sex happening mpreg was quickly incorporated as well, and it just went from there.

I think there's some sexism at play. In the rare ABO fics I've seen that included Ron/Hermione, they tended to be betas, which is pretty much the "boring straight normie" category; but you find tons of other fics where Hermione is an omega to <insert preferred male character>'s alpha. That's because most Omegaverse fics treat omegas as the equivalent of IRL women, because in most fics using the ABO system only omegas get pregnant (and, yes, that's sexist bullshit and reduces women to their womb, but this is fanfiction, we're not writing a social studies paper here).

Ron especially is never written in that sort of role because people give too much faith to the base assumption that he's "too manly" for that, as you and I previously discussed together when talking about the fandom's reluctance to interpret him as being anything other than straight because they refuse to acknowledge his more feminine-coded side.

It's pretty much the standard fare for the HP fandom, and really every fandom in general: ABO started as a fetish thing, and so it's almost logical that it would feature fetishization and misrepresentation of gay relationships - keep in mind that most fanfiction writers are women.

So to clarify, Ron being an omega wouldn't be uncommon; Ron mating with Hermione though..

Ooooooh, this is an interesting plot bunny! Ok, basing ourselves on the idea of discrimination due to genders: society says that Hermione being an alpha female should go to an alpha male stud, to produce strong alpha babies because double-alpha babies are totally the best or whatever; while Ron being an omega male should go to an alpha male stud and become a good malewife and produce those cool mpreg babies... Ron and Hermione say that's fucking bullshit and get married anyway, power move. As for which of them will carry the children, fuck off it's none of you tabloids' business!

(Maybe they both carry one each... :'D)

Also this trope is giving me some cursed OT3 ideas (all consensual, of course), that keep me up at night.

I find that when I'm kept awake at night by stuff I want to write whether they're comments or stories, it becomes MUCH easier to sleep once I've written out the thing that kept me awake (totally why I sometimes answer comments at something like 2 in the morning (French hours) because I couldn't answer in the day and spent my night stewing on it). But that is just a suggestion... ;)

What have you done to me?😭😭

I have merely opened your mind to new possibilites *ominously walks away and bumps into the wall on the way out*

#vivi answers #ron weasley #hermione granger #tropes #omegaverse #writing #harry potter

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shih-coulda-had-it · 1 year

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142 nana and her husband ❤️

142. "Okay, I did it. I restrained myself until our wedding night. Now take off the damn dress." | nana x sakumo [oc] (pre-OT3 with sorahiko) | wc: 1,313

a/n: I am sorry to say that the most lemony this gets is regarding Nana's underwear; along the way it definitely picked up 'we're adding Sorahiko to this' vibes, but is it legitimate lemon? not really.

a/n 2: maybe it's not very perfect of them, but i do think it'd be funny if both Nana and Sakumo came to the conclusion that if they agree not to fuck each other for the month, they can definitely work off some stress getting Sorahiko to come (ha) around to the idea of polyamory.

In the second-to-last month leading up to Sakumo’s wedding to Shimura Nana, he and his fiancée had what Sakumo would consider to be a gloriously indulgent life together. Her apartment was home; he’d cooked in her kitchen and slept in her bed for several years now, and Sakumo’s sense-memory was smug, knowing that nearly every square-foot had born witness to them having sex.

They were all but married, in Nana’s eyes. They were somewhat married, in Sakumo’s.

Which made this last month… tense. If Sakumo was generous, he’d label the feeling as anticipation. If he was being completely honest, he was terribly horny.

(“It’s a challenge,” said Nana, her eyes creasing with amusement over Sakumo’s initial protest. Given that he’d been basking in an afterglow, his arguments weren’t as polished as they could be. “I’m not saying we should put chastity belts on each other, silly.”

“Easier that way,” he muttered.

She made an obnoxious error sound and nudged him out of her preferred side of the bed (the warmed side). Sakumo rolled sideways for a brief moment, allowing Nana to slip under the covers, and then held her in a tight embrace. She tucked her head under his chin. Their legs tangled together.

“... Sakumo,” his beloved fiancée said, “I meant for the challenge to start right now.”

He stifled a whine of discontent in the long raven-black locks of her hair, and instead counter-offered, “What if we started in the morning? One late night, to kick off a month of many early nights.”

“That sounds nice.”

“But we’re not doing that?”

“Nope,” she answered cheerfully. “It’s a matter of principle, the principle being our wedding night! I’m for sure not coming to you as a blushing virgin,” and here, Nana ignored the way Sakumo scoffed, “but it’s a special day that deserves to be capped off with a special night. Am I right?”

“You’re not wrong,” he sighed.

“It’s gonna be tough for me too, y’know! You’ve spoiled me! Ah, stop laughing, we really should get to sleep…!”)

It didn’t help that Nana liked to tease. If their nights had transitioned purely to cuddles before sleep, then Sakumo wouldn’t be feeling the loss so keenly. But because Nana was an incorrigible flirt who liked to tease, she kept coming to bed in different lacy lingerie sets; she dropped by at work and kissed him like he was a secret that needed to be kept.

And he couldn’t even complain to Sorahiko about it! Because Sorahiko would have Jetted away the instant he connected the dots about the situation, and because part of Sakumo was still thinking about that trailing thought Nana had, concerning Sorahiko’s future in their relationship.

The only relief Sakumo found was in teasing her back, and that was a temporary solution since it just led Sakumo to want more again.

So he simmered in his want, grimly putting one foot forward at a time, all the way up to the wedding.

At his request, they performed the ceremony at a local Shinto shrine. Sakumo’s surviving parent and closest sidekick attended as his witnesses; Nana had both Sorahiko and Recovery Girl for hers. Before Sakumo turned his attention to reciting his vows and drinking from the nuptial cups, he met Sorahiko’s wistful stare.

A long moment. Sorahiko blinked away first. The only thing that gave him away was the slow flush of red blossoming in his ears and cheeks.

Sakumo restrained himself from reaching out and dragging Sorahiko between them.

There would be time for that later, surely. Sakumo was already breaking from tradition by marrying into Nana’s family; he’ll scheme with Nana on another day to court the man from the best-friend-zone.

For now: it was Nana, swathed in conservative traditional white like a chrysalis, smiling as she swallowed the first of three servings of sake. She slipped the gold ring onto his finger and smoothed her thumb over the gleaming surface. He slid her own ring onto hers, and he watched the diamonds glitter as they caught the sunlight.

For now: it was the reception, where Nana emerged from a dressing room wearing a Western-styled wedding gown, baring her shoulders and arms in all their muscled glory. Their co-workers filled the seats, both pro-heroes and civilian staffers alike, but their toasts failed to distract Sakumo from admiring--longing, really--the arch of her neck as she bent her head to hear Recovery Girl’s low commentary.

Sorahiko delivered a succinct speech over dessert: an anecdote over how he met Nana, a recount of meeting Sakumo, and a conclusion that perhaps nobody had ever deserved each other more.

“You two are enablers,” Sorahiko joked, and pulled off a truly heroic smile. “I expect you both to break any limits set before you. Happiness, and good fortune--plus ultra.”

“Plus ultra,” Nana and Sakumo echoed. Under the table, their feet collided in a meeting of like-minded, ‘DID YOU HEAR HIM?!’, which was matched by a mutual clutching of each other’s closest forearm which communicated, ‘WE’LL TALK ABOUT THAT LATER.’

But for now: Sakumo suffered the end of the reception until he was shooed away from the clean-up by Sorahiko, whose warm hands likely hadn’t meant to brush Sakumo’s wine-flushed cheeks with that much tenderness but did anyway.

“Sober up,” said Sorahiko firmly. He was oblivious to Sakumo’s trembling control. “You’ve been on edge this whole month, and I think I’m finally understanding why. So get. I’ll kick Nana out after you.”

“Thanks,” Sakumo managed, paying strict attention to Sorahiko chewing his bottom lip in consternation--Nana was floating, no, Floating over the dance floor. She was less than a meter off the floor, thankfully. Recovery Girl was latched onto her like the world’s most inefficient anchor.

“Go,” the man ordered, and Sakumo obliged.

The trip from the reception hall up to their reserved suite was blissfully easy and absent of lingering well-wishers. Sakumo staggered into an elevator, arrived at his floor, and found his and Nana’s room freshly decorated with rose petals. He sneezed.

By the time the door swung open again to reveal Nana, Sakumo had splashed his face with water to sober up and swept the petals off to the carpet. He was still in the black and gray kimono robes when she glided into the bedroom, and was sitting on the edge of the mattress.

Sakumo spoke before she could. Hoarsely, he said, “Okay, I did it. I restrained myself until our wedding night.” His voice slipped into a growl. “Now take off the damn dress.”

Her eyebrows jumped, but Nana took it in stride, grinning at her new husband. “This damn dress cost a bit of money, you know! You should enjoy the view for as long as I’m renting it!”

“Nana.”

“Strip yourself,” she teased. “I’ll match you.”

And she did. When Sakumo jerkily moved to undo the ties keeping his kimono layers intact, Nana stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders, deftly unzipping her gown and letting it drift down to reveal a nude-colored strapless bra, practically all lace surrounding a ribbon over her nipples.

He stood to disrobe; Nana shimmied the dress past her hips to display the rest of the lingerie, but instead of letting the gaze linger, she immediately stepped out of the rental gown to save it from further creases.

“Pass me your robes, I’ll hang them too,” she told him, cheerfully bypassing Sakumo to open a closet. He inhaled, sharp, just in time to catch a whiff of jasmine. Shadows played on the exposed flesh, flesh that Sakumo was now beyond ready to get his hands on.

… What was stopping him now?

Sakumo licked his lips. He threw his robes onto a chair, uncaring of how they fell, and stalked towards Nana on silent feet.

“Come and get me,” Nana dared out loud, and daintily set the Western gown onto the hangar bar.

#bnha #shimuras #shimurastorino #shimura nana #stand-in name for husbando shimura #gran torino #torino sorahiko #shih.txt #d-december #asks #anon #IT'S EIGHT MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT PST IT COUNTS

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sholiofic · 2 years

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Your recent SamBuckyZemo fic melted my heart and gave me an idea: it's the same ot3 timeline and the guys have first real opportunity to actually sleep together, not adrenaline rush sex during mission, but really sleep and cuddle in one bed. Turns out Zemo moves a lot and talks in his sleep (Raft trauma?) and SamBucky, really wanting for their first cuddle night with Zemo to work, have only one option to actually get some sleep for themselves: squish that cat 😺

Same universe as the poolside curly-hair fluff, although a bit earlier. 💜

---

It was long after midnight by the time they got to Zemo's Colombia estate in a warm, humid tropical night, and Sam didn't even know what time his internal clock thought it was—morning, maybe? His internal clock was still on Eastern Europe time.

"Well," Bucky said, looking around at the arched entryway and floodlit grounds. "I don't know else what I expected."

They dropped their luggage inside the door, in a flagged entry hall with some artificial plants and an ornamental end table.

"Lucia said that she would have the beds made up," Zemo said. "She and her husband are the caretakers for the property. I ..." And at that point he seemed to wind down, staring vaguely off into the distance as if he had forgotten what he was going to say.

They were all completely fried. It had been a busy, hectic, occasionally life-threatening couple of days, and a trans-Atlantic flight and world-class case of jet-lag wasn't really helping.

"Where are the bedrooms?" Sam asked, and Zemo looked relieved to be given a cue.

"This way, I think. I haven't been here since I was a child."

They got a little turned around, wandering through an enormous kitchen and taking a wrong turn by way of the pool—Zemo looked both annoyed and embarrassed by this—but ended up, eventually, in a bedroom with a huge bed. Silk sheets, of course.

Bucky threw himself onto the bed. "Mine."

"No, you don't," Sam grumbled. "This bed is too big for one person to hog the whole damn thing." He flopped on the edge, and then looked up as Zemo took a step back, slipping quietly into the hall. "Where are you going?"

"In search of an unoccupied bedroom," Zemo said patiently.

"No you don't." Sam pushed himself up to a vague approximation of a sitting position. "If this bed's big enough for two, it's big enough for three. Get back in here."

Zemo gave him a look, and there was a moment when Sam really wasn't sure what he was going to do. Or what Bucky was going to do, for that matter.

They had really never taken it to the next level. He and Bucky were kind of a thing, but with Zemo, a couple of adrenaline-fueled "yay, we're not dead" hookups were all they had.

Well, that and a couple months of saving each other's asses, sharing hotel rooms, fighting over the bathroom, and generally living in each other's pocket. But ... not this. Quick, frantic sex was one thing. But they'd never shared a bed before.

"C'mon," Sam said. "You're tired. We're tired. Bed's easily big enough for all of us. In the state you're in, you'll fall in the pool before you find a place to crash."

Bucky snorted a laugh. He sat up and started peeling off clothes and weapons. Sam noticed Zemo's gaze following him, weary as it was.

"Up to you, anyway." Sam reached down and pulled off his shoes, dropping them over the side of the bed. "if we hear a splash from the pool, we'll come fish you out. Maybe. If we're not asleep."

The corners of Zemo's mouth twitched reluctantly. "All right," he said, as if coming to a sudden decision, and peeled off his shoulder holster, dropping it on the chair beside the door.

They were all mostly undressed by the time Zemo turned off the light and rolled onto the bed beside Sam, and by that point Sam was too tired to appreciate the mostly-naked bodies on either side of him. Sleep was his main priority.

He woke what felt like five minutes later when Zemo spasmed all over.

"God," Sam groaned, fuzzy-headed with sleep. He knew exactly what was happening because he was already semi-used to sharing a bed with the other twitchiest motherfucker on the planet. He'd at least developed a little practice at settling Bucky down, mostly by laying on him in the night. Bucky slept like a grasshopper on meth—unless he had someone touching him, and then he settled right down.

Zemo was awake now, shivering next to him under the stupid silk sheet.

"Dream?" Sam asked quietly. He felt Bucky twitch on his other side.

Zemo sat up, half-visible in the dark. "This was a mistake," he said, mostly to himself, and started to swing his legs out of bed.

"Hey." Still fuzzy with sleep, Sam reached out and caught him by the wrist. "It's a bad dream. We all have 'em. You go stumbling around in here half asleep, you really will fall in the pool."

His hand circled Zemo's wrist lightly, not enough to really hold him. On his other side, Bucky was muttering something irritably about people who wouldn't just settle down and go to sleep.

"Like you're one to talk," Sam muttered. He laid his leg firmly across Bucky's and curved his foot around Bucky's ankle.

He was already drifting off to sleep again, his fingers slipping off Zemo's wrist, as he vaguely felt Zemo slide back under the covers.

And then Zemo twitched awake again with a sharp all-over jerk before Sam had even properly fallen asleep.

Sam had just one solution for this. It had worked on Bucky, after all. He rolled on top of Zemo, and felt Zemo go tense all over.

Sam draped his head over Zemo's shoulder. "Go to sleep," he said in his ear.

"I can't breathe," Zemo said tightly.

Hmmm ... maybe the supersoldier solution had a few drawbacks with an ordinary human. Sam wriggled across Zemo, who made annoyed noises, and shoved him firmly into Bucky.

"Wha?" Bucky mumbled blearily, while Zemo let out a startled noise.

"And stay put," Sam muttered. He threw an arm over Zemo, and then a leg, and he was aware of some weird blend of cuddling and bed combat happening on Zemo's other side as well.

"What are you both doing," Zemo said, and then it sounded like Bucky climbed onto more of him, from his angry squashed noises.

"Trying to sleep," Bucky mumbled. "If anyone else wakes me up, I'm spending the night laying on both of you."

"You don't want that," Sam said. "He's heavy."

"You're both insane," was Zemo's response, but they lay like that, wrapped up together in a slowly relaxing tangle, with Zemo's breathing evening out against Sam's hair—and the next thing Sam knew, there was silver-gold morning light shafting through the windows.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #wingterbaron #sambuckyzemo #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #colombia tropical fluff verse #tropical fluff verse

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solesurvivorpaigeargot · 3 years

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HOLY HELLO Sketchy friends, followers, and fans! It's that time again, time for...

SHIPPY SATURDAY!

The heck is happening here? Here's an FAQ~ Wanna support the event? Here's my Ko-fi!

That's right, it's FINALLY the last Saturday of the month... and I've decided it's high time our Quotable prompt evolved into a Dialog prompt! This is gonna work a lot like previous Quote prompts, but with an extra twist, so please make sure you read the guidelines for a valid request before sending in!

ONWARDS!

To make a VALID Shippy Saturday request, please send me the following in an ASK to my ASKBOX:

The COUPLE you'd like me to sketch up ---- OC? Heck yes! Canon? Hell yeah! All characters welcome, so long as they're from Fallout ---- OC x OC? Cool! Canon x Canon? SWEET! OC x Canon? DAMN RIGHT.

The NUMBER of the dialog snippet you'd like me to art them saying ---- Got more than one favorite? You may list up to THREE in your ask, in order of preference, to help the artist avoid repeats <3 ---- Still can't pick? Send in 'Dealer's Choice!' and the artist will pick one for you.... oooor possibly make up some fresh dialog on the spot ;3

What KIND OF RELATIONSHIP your couple has with each other ---- Romantic? Platonic? Professional? Familial? Rivals? Neighbors? Despite it's name, Shippy Saturday is about all kinds of human connections, not just the romantic ones! ---- Is your couple part of a larger OT3 or poly group? Tell me who else is part of the relationship; they probably won't get arted, but they might add their two cents to the scene from off-frame XD

IF YOU'RE SENDING IN AN OC!! ---- Send your request ask FIRST, without reference information ---- THEN send your OC's reference information to me via my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have any reference pictures, but you can type of a written description? Great! I love working from written descriptions! :D [ No, really, I do. Give them to me :D ]

After that, you can leave all the rest to me! :D [ I.e Please do not request poses or specific actions ]

Hokay? HOKAY! With all of that out of the way, let's get onto the dialog snippets! These are taken from various things I enjoy, as well as some of my own work. These quotes have been modified to gender neutral pronouns, to remove most proper nouns, and for brevity.

[ Some of these quotes have multiple speakers! That will be shown like this! "Speaker A" -- "Speaker B" ]

"Yeah, well, I'm a victim of circumstance" -- "... I thought you called it your pecker."

"Here, you look cold."

"You are so lucky I love you." -- "Damn right."

"You know the routine." -- "Yeah! WE do all the work, YOU get all the credit!"

"I want you with me, but... I'm scared." -- "Trust me. Trust me to take care of myself." -- "I trust you, it's the rest of the world I'm terrified of!"

"No breakfast?" -- "I did it yesterday-- bologna and beans, it's your turn." -- "No... It was eggs. I did eggs... over easy." -- "The hell you did! Bologna and beans, it's your turn!"

"I like the kind of person who can handle themselves... think on their feet."

"So you were ahead of me." -- "I don't know about ahead, but I've been behind you ever since you fried those mannequins."

"Don't make me say it out loud..." -- "... I can say it first, if that'll help."

"Nooooooope... five more minutes." -- "We were together all night." -- "Didn't count... I was sleepin'."

"Well, this is very serious" -- "IT IS!" -- "You, you destroyed a door." -- "Colonel, we're talking about a test on an armored vehicle, that will carry people into combat." -- "Right, but this door is property of--" -- "The shell barely penetrated the door." -- "okay, but now it's all bent out of shape. How are you gonna get it back on its hinges?" -- "I'LL BUY THE ARMY A NEW GODDAMN DOOR!"

"Sorry, I thought... I thought you were trying to buy something I'm not selling."

"I'm busy." -- "Too busy to look up?"

"You can't kill people just because you don't agree with them." -- "You see, that was the ONE point me and the doctors could never agree upon."

"Would you ever consider having a drink with an enlisted solider?" -- "Depends... does the enlisted soldier think I need one?" -- "What are they gonna do? Kick you out?"

"Thanks" -- "No problem, anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- one day it's gonna happen to you. Someday someone is gonna ask you, who is it? And a face is gonna jump to the front of your mind, and it's gonna completely sandbag you... I can't wait to watch!"

[to a peacefully sleeping person ] -- "Good moring, Mx. ___, this is your wake-up call. Please move your ass."

"I say we run for it" -- "Running isn't a plan, runnin's what you do when a plan fails!"

"... Normal Illinois, is that on the map?" -- "Yes, Sergeant, it is." -- "... is it normal in Normal?" -- "... Uneventful, I think, is the word."

"Now-- how many brahmin does it take to make a stampede? Is it like... three or more? Is there a minimum speed?" -- "Wish a stampede up your ass."

"I don't mind being a secret of yours."

[Right after THE BIG FUCKING KISS] ".... let's not make it a year before the next one, okay?"

"If we were serious about money, we'd quit being hired hands--" -- "Handymen! We are han-dee-men." -- "Oh whatever! We'd quit this and go find some real money."

"Please... don't go where I can't follow."

"Alone is fine! I can do alone, it's worrying after them that's got me all wound up!" -- "Have you considered that's because alone is NOT FINE and you don't wanna do it anymore?" -- "---!!"

"This is not the first time you've been here." -- "We've been down this road before, that is correct." -- "Several times, in fact." -- "I hadn't been keeping count."

"And you must be ___, I've heard all about you." -- "I deny everything."

"First time I saw you? I thought to myself, that's the kind of person BRICK WALLS jump outta the way of." -- "Figured you'd be safer behind me rather than in front of me?" -- "Damn right."

"Just keep looking at that beautiful sky; that's the sky that'll be over our roof when we're done." -- "What if we don't finish the roof? Then we can look at the sky all the time."

"Yeah, well... maybe a friend is what I need right now."

"Next thing you know the Feds will be at our door; Sorry, time to move out, Eminent Domain." -- "Down honey, down."

"Even a heat-seeking missile can miss a target." -- "... you taped so many hot-plates to the test target you could fry an egg at 20 feet, and it STILL missed by a mile."

"My dear, my darling, love of my life...." -- "What do you want?"

"What I mean to say is... you make here a better place to be. For me. Easier. Does that make sense?"

"Calm down, you make it sound like a war." -- "What do you people have against being prepared?!"

"This is not just a report, it's a deadly weapon." -- "Sir, an M-16 is a deadly weapon. A report is just a pile of paper, unless you plan to inflict a lot of extremely vicious paper cuts."

"Stupid son of a bitch, knocked himself out cold..." -- "Cold my ass, he's dead."

"Y'know, in baseball, a guy who hits .400 is consider pretty damn great." -- "In baseball the losing team isn't killed by their opponents."

"Hey... I love you. Did I tell you that today?"

This post is going online at 8 PM, June 24th, 2021, US Pacific time. The askbox will open for requests until 6 PM, June 25th, 2021, US Pacific Time. Get yours in now!

Arting will begin at 9 AM tomorrow morning, see you then! :D

-Loor

#Sketchy Saturday #Sketchy Saturday Prompt #Shippy Saturday #Shippy Saturday Prompt #Dialog Prompt

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atiredvampire · 4 years

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@mugglebeans : can u write some points for Kandreil after they finish questioning and get picked back up by the foxes and the foxes reaction to them as they decide what to do next.

Ok let's do this.

so after Neil's finished with the FBI

Abby does her examination of him

doing that this in the first book where she braces herself and is still shocked

Neil is pointedly looking anywhere except at his new scars

Kevin's hugging him from behind so Neil can just lean on him

Andrew is studying the damage

Neil looks down and has a mini panic attack

Kevin's being a comforting weight and Andrew's stay's are helping him

because he doesn't have to be Nathaniel Wesninski

he can be Neil Josten, Fox striker, number 10, Andrew and Kevin's boyfriend, professional loud mouth

On the bus:

everyone spreads out so they can sleep the whole trip back

exept the OT3 who could live without comfort so long as they knew they were all safe

so Andrew put his back to the window

Kevin on the seat next to him with his legs draped over Andew's

and Neil placed on top of Andrew, sitting just like him but with his legs over Kevin's

Renee came over once they were all asleep tangled together and placed a blanket over them

all the foxes excluding Aaron cames over at one point to take pictures because they all just look so peaceful

Back at the Foxhole:

everyone gathers in the meeting room in their normal seats except Andrew and Neil swap so Neil is in the middle

he gives them the rundown of his life: the countries he's been to, the names he's had, how old he was

instead of Kevin 'dick' Day saying that Andrew won't be able to protect Neil when Nicky's being all encouraging he says in a small voice

"Andrew can protect him, right?" until 'Drew squeezes his shoulder

(in this house 'Drew is supportive, Kev is soft, and Neil is badassTM)

they move on to the topic of press and their "privacy isn't a thing" issue

the foxes are debating the best strategy to keep Neil safe

and Neil like a GOOD BOYFRIEND doesn't bring up Kevin telling Wymack that he's his dad

it's Kevin's idea

he whispers in French

"I can tell them who my dad is. It'll distract from you."

"You don't need to do that dumbass, I've dealt with worse."

"That doesn't mean that you should though."

"Kevin I'm being serious. You should tell him when you're ready, not just because some pricks are going to be shoving their noses where they don't belong."

"Neil, for Exy knows what reason you are actually more important to me than a stupid secret I should have let out the bag when I found out."

at this point they realised everyone had gone quiet

Andrew: "Junkies, what you talkin' about."

Neil looks up at Kevin all soft and stary

Neil: "You really don't nee-"

Kevin: "I'm going to tell the press who my dad is."

Nicky: "You know who he is?"

Dan: "Who is he?"

Kevin: "I'm telling him before I tell you guys."

Lil' convo between Neil and Matt:

M: "Hey..um...so I know this is gonna sound stupid but if you need anything, we are here.. like none of us care where you're from. Really."

N: "I know Matt."

M: "I'm being serious. Anything."

N: "I know Matt, I'm not gonna lie to you. I'm done with that. Really."

M: "(sigh) I know, I just wish it didn't take all this just to get to this point."

N: "Yeah, well if it was up to me you wouldn't have to deal with this at all."

M: "I'm happy too. Well not happy happy, but like I want too, you're like my best friend, man."

N: "You're my best friend too, Matt."

Matt smiles all soft and stuff

M: "I have got to ask you something though."

N: "Yeah?"

M: "Who are you dating, 'cause Andrew and Kevin were all over you but they were holding hands in the bus so like what the hell is that all about."

N: "(sigh/smile) We're kind of all like..."

M: "You're poly?"

N: "The fucks that mean?"

M: "You're all dating each other."

N: "Yeah, we are. Don't ever say that infront of Andrew though, he's not comfortable with the thought of being in a relationship right now."

M: "I've got to ask what you see in them, I mean a phyco and an Exy freak what the hell's that all about."

Neil goes deathly still and says in his scariest voice: "If you ever say that about them, I will kill you, this is your warning."

M: "Woah.. uhh..yeah sor..sorry I won't."

N: "Andrew isn't a phycopath, he's just protective and he does that in the only way he knows how, and for the record it's how I would act as well. And Kevin isn't an Exy freak it was drilled into him from a young age, he's actually a huge history nerd who's mad that he can't eat nuts."

Matt didn't know what to say so he just left the room where Neil had sat in the middle of teh floor

Neil still slept in the middle of the room with Andrew on one side and Kevin on the other

So this might have taken longer than I ment it too, sorry about that. Also might be a tad longer than I thought it would be.

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majorbaby · 7 months

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nine lines, nine people

... nine lines no people tho, because i'm not tagging anyone this time sorry ToT. im only even doing it because @bornforastorm tagged me ESPECIALLY she said, and i cannot disappoint hannah <3

here's 9 lines (paragraph breaks?) from ch 2 of Two doors down, the slightly plotty hawk/trap/margaret that i haven't abandoned i promise. most of it is done. i've just been struggling a bit with one particular scene and then i need to edit.

in the mean time have some post-threesome trapper/margaret pillow talk (trapper is the pillow. RIP hawkeye he died as he lived, eating pussy)

They lay together in a boneless heap catching their breaths. Pierce’s head was heavy against her outer thigh, just as she knew she must’ve been heavy against McIntyre beneath her. His damp, sparse chest hair scratched pleasantly against her back. She could hear him panting, his lungs compromised by the weight she was putting on them.

But she didn’t want to move just yet. Hawkeye was draped over her lower half, but the rest of her was exposed. She could see the ceiling of the tent gently rippling in the heavy wind outside and she was keenly aware that were it not for the roaring furnace of their bodies, she would’ve been cold.

She opened her mouth to draw in a breath, at last ready to announce her exit, but the man beneath her stirred first.

“Stay the night,” McIntyre slurred.

If only it were as easy as that. Soon the magnitude of what they’d done would sink in, and they’d all be scrambling to make sense of how they’d come to lie with the enemy. She’d have to face the fact that she’d been so sick with loneliness, she’d sought them out, and they’d have to accept that it hadn’t been as easy as they’d always imagined it would be to turn her down.

The longer she lay there accepting what they were still freely giving, the more the scales dropped in their favour. On top of that it was two against one - though they’d convinced her that there were a few upsides to that.

“Or go,” McIntyre continued. “But if you stay, y’can’t stay lyin’ on top of me all night.”

“Am I heavy?” the question slipped innocently from her.

His hands cupped her elbows and then slowly smoothed up her arms to squeeze her shoulders. Margaret shivered. “‘S not you. I got a glass stomach.”

#hmm i guess i have an unconscious headcanon that hawkeye passes out the second sex is over #no wonder they have so many threesomes. poor trapper needs someone to chat with. not my fault.#wip stuff #i need a proper tag for these three #ah #ot3: we're all in here not sleeping together

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