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#thank you so much johnny
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You know I have to hit you with that 8., 25., and 30. for the BG3 ask thing.
For bonus points answer for wach of your Tava, or just pick the Tav you feel is best. The world is your oyster.
AHHHH! I've had two Tavs, and a few Durges, but there's only one I plan on taking to end game right now, Tavrose, and one I use for all of my writing, Quinntav. I'll answer for those two, since they're the most established.
Tavrose is a Geralt type that is, in game, classed as an Eldritch Knight with a pact made with Raphael, and who spends their time dealing with monster related problems (slaying is optional). Tav is a pretty stoic fellow, with a pretty dry sense of humor, and very little phases them, as they were cared for by Raffy for some time as a youth. Also, if you need help negotiating your way out of a bad deal, they're the one to call. They have a minor in law, and they read monster facts for fun in their spare time.
Quinntav is a senior member of the Circus of the Last Days, and is a former Blood Hunter with the duel wielding fighting type, and following the Pact of the Profane Soul. But they're also a talented sword juggler, tight rope walker, fire breather, violin player, card dealer, sword swallower, etc etc etc and amateur clown. Quinntav is a smile their way through anything type, wielding sass better then their own blades, and carrying a pretty high capacity for weird bullshit. Unlike Tavrose, when they start to get "stab happy" they tend to be obvious about it. They're the weird friend who will show up in your kitchen at 3am eating your cereal without notice. I've been using Mollymauk Teleaf as inspiration, but haven't commissioned a picture yet for them.
Both are Dark Urge characters, both are Mephistopheles Tieflings, and both are children of a follower of Selune. Both have also been aware of their heritage for a decade or so, so they're pretty good at swatting away their urges.
8. Who are they suspicious of?
Tavrose isn't suspicious of anyone. That sounds weird, but unless they're actively having to deal with someone else's problem with something or someone else, they don't really bear anything or anyone any mind. It's not until game events occur where people begin to actively target them and the party that the begin to show some modicum of motivation to deal with anyone.
Quinntav, in the game, is pretty lukewarm towards the Harpers for a while, until they get to know Jahira. They remain borderline ambivalent towards the Flaming Fists throughout the game, and generally aren't receptive to anyone in significant positions of ruling authority. If they could get away with killing Vlaakith, punching Duke Ravenguard, and fighting Zariel in hand to hand combat, they would. To name a few examples. They have a pact with Raffy thanks to their urges but they're far more crotchety about it then Tavrose.
25. What arcana major best represents your Tav?
Tavrose: The Chariot. Tavrose isn't a driven person, they have no real goals, very few attachments, and lack the discipline to deal very much more about their urges beyond simply restraining them. On the other hand, when this is reversed, you'll not find a more loyal, to the ends of the earth, ride or die motherfucker. When Tavrose finally gets their shit into gear their undoubtly remarkable focus towards completing a goal, and doing it well, cannot be ignored.
Quinntav: The Fool, easy. Quinn is one of my typical reckless, damn if this kills me, joker types, who comes off as being generally free spirited and hilarious, but secretly has a great deal about themself that they're not sharing with the class. The Dark Urge/Haunted One background is the driving force behind much of this, including their martyr complex.
30. What is your favorite thing about your Tav?
Tavrose? They're an enormous lover of all things scaly, furry, you name it. They come off as stoic, and their social skills are...chilly, to say the least. But if you want to know, or don't want to know, about the life cycle of an Aboleth, they're your Tiefling. The owlbear cub is in perfect hands.
Quinntav? In short, everything. But Quinn is one of my blorbos right now, existing on rotation in my head, 24/7.
In length: Quinn learned Common Sign to speak to Zara specifically. Quinn cackles like a hyena in battle. Quinn regularly sleeps in everyone else's tent. Quinn flipped off Vlaakith and they were incarnated. Quinn wags their tail like a dog. Quinn is touch deprived. Quinn loves trashy romance novels. Quinn the Blood Hunter is in a relationship with the vampire. Quinn has been naked around everyone at least once. Quinn and Karlach have teamwork feats together. Quinn is a little in love with everyone in the party. Quinn is demisexual. Quinn named the Owlbear Carnage. Quinn has a coffin of holding. Quinn's Guardian looks like their sister, {REDACTED}. Quinn is heavily scarred from the neck down. Quinn is amethyst skinned, plum haired, black horned, and red eyed. Quinn's right horn is tipped with a crescent moon, for themself, and the other a star, for their mother. Quinn has Astarion Marked, in case of a kidnapping. Quinn is secretly a level 17 character. Quinn was born in 1411 DR. Quinn gave everyone in the party a nick name. Quinn is Half-Elven. Quinn has the second highest body count. Quinn commissioned a Ring of Protection for Astarion, and tested it out on themself, with Dame Aylin using Sunlight on them. Quinn has a short fic. QuinnQuinnQuinn.
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Amazing comission by the even more amazing @temeyes whose art I love dearly and always make me laugh
I'm so in love with it I don't have words, it's them, their friendship, him being a little shit lmao and her face of "I'm so done". Sibling vibes.
Thank you tim 🫂❤️
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temeyes · 8 months
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psa from our favorite sergeants!!
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buttdumplin · 1 month
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I’m still on the latine reader train and fucking of course I had to do one of their baby’s ears getting pierced. The boys all react a little differently, but boy, are they amazing fathers.
cw: poly 141, gn!reader, latine reader, piercing mentioned but not described, baby is nicknamed Bug word count: 3k
It’s not something you’d spend a lot of time thinking about, getting your baby girl’s ear pierced. Hell, it wasn’t something you had a hard opinion on even before she came into your lives. But one day, something stirs in you. She’s around 5mos old, trying her hardest to roll over in the center of a nest of pillows her fathers have piled up around her, when you make the call. And while your partners are all understanding and loving, Kyle is the one you approach.
You plop down on the couch next to him, pulling his arms around you to make him hold you. Testing the waters, you spread small, quick kisses on his cheek. It’s a clear gauge of his current mood, and it has him squinting down at you. Not judging, more curious. He knows you’re about to drop something. 
“I’m thinking about getting Bug little golden studs.”
“That would make a lovely heirloom for when she gets older, something she can keep on her.”
“No, I mean la voy a llevar down to the piercer this week.”
His arms stiffen around you, and his lack of immediate response makes you turn to look at him. Kyle’s eyes are locked on the baby, his face perfectly neutral in a way you know he’s mastered for his job, like this was also somehow a threat to national security, to life as he knew it to be.
 “Vida mía… are you sure?” concern finally creeping in to scrunch his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I’m worried arracadas would snag on something as she’s learning to move more.”
It’s his turn to look at you, and all Kyle finds on your face is the stillness of peace that comes with having made a decision. 
“We’ll wait to tell the others,” he knows better than to ask and it has you throwing a big, beaming smile his way. All he can do at this point is return your kisses and ask you to share a link to the shop you want to take your baby girl to. 
You got to bed excited that night, thrilled by Kyle’s support. He, on the other hand, stays up late hidden in the bathroom, digging up as much info as he can on the shop to make sure it’s a reputable place. He’s reading every single review folks have left on both the individual piercers and the place itself, and he’s pinching in on every picture to zoom in and look for even the smallest sign of something wrong. A single picture of misaligned piercings would be all that it takes from him to call it all off. But he finds nothing. No skeezy people in the shop, no questionable client pictures, and the shop even has their health and safety certifications on proud display. Well, at least it seems like you chose a good shop.
The next day, Kyle is driving you down to the shop, hands tight on the steering wheel. He wants to be there. He has to be there. Pleased with all his digging and research on the shop, he holds Bug and coos down at her as you run through the details with the piercer. He’s straining his ears like never before, just to try to catch the piercer saying a single thing that sounds off so he can haul you both out of the shop and back home. But again, everything checks out. 
His voice is low and rough as he says, “I’d like to hold her as you do it, if that’s alright.”
You know he’s just trying to look out for Bug, trying to maintain some type of control in this terrifying moment, so you just kiss his shoulder and nod at him. Kyle doesn’t say much else. He sits still with his little girl in his arms, eyes wider than usual, taking in every detail he can.
Are the needles and jewelry sterile? The piercer’s pen marks look even on her little ears. Are the piercer’s hands shaking? This close to her little face?
It all happens quickly and nearly painlessly. You’re pretty sure Bug only cried out from how tense Kyle’s arms got as the needle came closer, scared just from sensing his fear. As the piercer finishes cleaning off your little girl’s ears, you hear Kyle release what must have been a held breath. The strain around his eyes immediately warns you of the blistering headache he just gave himself. 
You take his hand gently, “All done.”
He nods shakily and presses a kiss to the top of Bug’s head.
He’s never been so proud of his baby girl before. She faced off with something sharp and pain, and she barely batted an eye. Even after, it was almost like nothing had happened. Bug went back to babbling away in an attempt to talk to the piercer, who was kind enough to carry on a short conversation with her. It makes his heart swell with an unbelievable amount of hope. She’ll be able to face the entire world itself by the time she’s grown.
Kyle spends the drive back home in the backseat, looking for any signs of discomfort as your little girl sleeps, her little hand locked around his finger, his smile completely stuck on his face.
~
Simon is the only one home when you get back. He sits in the living room, putzing around with all of Bug’s toys and rugs, clearly waiting for you to get home and preparing for some play time. There aren’t any Baby and Me classes that day, at least as far as he knows. So it must have been something else that pulled you from the house.
He greets both you and Kyle with a soft kiss and a little hum, then reaches for the carseat, “How’s our sweet girl?”
Her gurgles answer him, and she gives him a big gummy smile as he pulls her from the seat. You and Kyle slowly move to put the key and car seat and jackets away, keeping a careful eye on Simon. He lays his baby girl down in his lap, helping bicycle her little legs with big, tender hands. And everything seems fine. Simon is clearly happy to be spending time with Bug again, and you and Kyle both let out a not-so-subtle sigh of relief. The sound of it, unfortunately, is bigger than it should in the room, taking up all the space left open by Simon’s absolute silence. Your eyes go wide and meet Kyle’s, his own reflecting the slight worry in yours, and you both sit on either side of Simon.
“Cariño, are you alright?” you plant a kiss on his cheek, Kyle’s arm finds its way around Simon’s back.
Now that you’re next to him, you can see the little quiver of his lower lip and the tears gathering on blonde lashes, eyes locked in on the little golden studs. His stuttered breathing is the only thing to break the silence.
“She’s so little,” he chokes out, “It must have hurt her so bad.” His tears finally fall as his fingers hover near the baby’s ears. 
Kyle presses himself against Simon’s side, “Oh, sweetheart. She’s alright, just look at how happy she is to be with you now.”
“Le dolió más a Kyle than it did her, and he just held her through the whole thing.”
Simon immediately remembers all the times he’s held his baby girl as she’s gotten her shots, how she’s squirmed and cried til she was purple in the face, and he takes another stuttering breath, “What if it makes her scared of jewelry, what if she comes to associate it all with pain?”
You can’t help but smile a little at the stark differences of the picture before you. Simon’s big frame hunches over the baby and his large, scarred hands gently hold her, his face growing ruddy as more tears fall and he starts to sniffle. Meanwhile Bug is wiggling away happily as she lays against the warmth of his thighs, little fists swinging around, feet kicking excitedly at the sound of Simon’s voice. 
“I think she’ll be glad she won’t have to heal those piercings as an adult,” you say, carefully wiping his tears away. 
Simon chuckles at your comment, taking a tissue from Kyle to clean up his nose, “Yeah, I suppose it is easier now since she’s still sleeping on her back.”
“Plus think of all the jewelry we’ll get to buy her as she grows, toda chipleada.”
Simon gives a full laugh at that, his hands returning to bicycling Bug’s legs. His chest moves with the deep breaths he finally allows himself, his little girl’s infectious smile catching on his face too. What a beautiful, softhearted man he is. He turns to give you each a kiss on the forehead as you and Kyle lean against him, “I’ll have to start tucking away some more money for that then.”
By the time he’s bringing Bug down to the ground to get her moving and playing with her toys, his tears have stopped. A few sniffles pop up every now and then, but he’s smiling, his big, brown eyes warm with love as he plays with her. Simon slowly moves to lay down next to her, mimicking her as she lays on her tummy, his head resting against his folded arms. His eyes flick to her ears every now and then, as if he’s trying to keep an eye out for a potential reaction. But the more pressing matter turns out to be how hard her little hands grab at his face, pulling at his lip until he’s giggling too. He doesn’t flinch a single time. He never will, not with his loved ones. They’re the people he trusts with his entire being. 
~
Johnny’s the next one to come home, arriving just a couple of hours later. He comes in the door to find you’re all working on setting up lunch: Kyle is on table duty and sets out drinks, you’re finishing up shoving doritos into the sandwiches, and Simon is still in the living room with baby Bug. Johnny smiles so big his face hurts a little. There are few things he loves as much as just seeing his little family. He could have the single worst day at work, but coming home to yall? That fixes his entire world. 
He stands by the door, where he can see all of you, and throws his arms out, “My loves, my dearest ones, I am home.” 
You all turn to smile at him. Normally, you’d all come up to greet him with a kiss. It’s a cute little ritual he’s come to love. But you’re all understandably occupied, so it’s his turn to make rounds. He steps to you and Kyle in the kitchen first, pulling you both into his arms so he can place light, lingering kisses to your mouths.
“Feeling your lips against mine once again has righted the world,” his big declarations of love will never truly end, but yall well know just how ecstatic he is to be home again. He’s quick to steal a couple of chips from you, shoving them into his mouth before you can reprimand him. Kyle receives a quick swat to his bum and he chases after Johnny a couple of steps, mirth lighting both their faces.
Johnny jogs over to join Simon on the floor, giving him a careful kiss as well.
“Our sweet Bug, trying so hard to roll. What a perfect little-”
And you know he’s clocked it. The sunshine gleaming off her little studs catches his eye.
“What’s this?” he rises back to his feet, eyes darting to each of your faces.
 Simon is the first to try to address his concern, “She’s alright, love. Watch, she’s moving about like nothing happened.”
“No. No. She’s too small to be dealing with this,” Johnny’s pacing the room, hand in his hair as his eyes continue to bounce between your faces. He keeps looking down at his baby girl, the little gold in her ears still shining, her happy little babbling only stopping as she tries to pull Simon’s finger into her mouth. And still, Johnny paces. 
 “It’s perfectly safe for her age, and the shop was of the highest quality,” Kyle says, stepping into the living room as Johnny continues to wear a track into the carpet. The technical reassurance has him pausing for a moment, the hand clenched in his hair relaxing a fraction. 
“But why?” Johnny’s voice climbs a little higher. He’ll never shout at any of you, but the emotion has to come out somehow. “She’s so young. This could have waited.”
More and more questions and rationalizations sprout from his mouth as his pacing picks back up. He brings up his sisters, he brings up his ma. None of them got piercings until they were much older. Then they could pick what they wanted and where. He briefly mentions consent, worried that this means he’s also overstepped as a father. And at one point he just says the word “baptism” and lets out a long groan. Still, he paces. His eyes turn electric with the sheer need to understand. He’s spiraling.
“Johnny, it’s cultural,” you cut through his rambling. It stops him in his tracks. 
“Cultural?”
You give him a nod, and his shoulders ease down from their tense clench. 
“Well, why didn’t you say so? We’ll have so many cute options for her once they heal,” he says with a smile once again adorning his face, plopping down to join Simon and Bug. “Is there a sandwich for me too, or should I make my own?”
 You let out a breathless laugh, the boys look up at you from the floor, smiles toothy and proud.
Kyle covers his face with his hands for a moment, mumbling something to himself before going back into the kitchen, “Yeah, we already have one for you, you brat.”
~
When Price arrives home, he lingers by the door for just a moment, taking in all the sounds of his family chattering and giggling away. He’ll never say it out loud, at least not unless he’s directly asked, but the sound alone of all of you happy and healthy and safe rejuvenates him, adds another 5 years to his life every time. He smiles a little to himself as he puts his shoes into the rack, mindful of where he stores his pack too. You’ve been kind enough to help figure out a system to keep all their shit straight and easily accessible for coming and going, and he tries to reinforce it so much with the other boys that he’s not about to fuck it up.
He’s still smiling as he joins the rest of you in the living room. Price is expecting the usual big smiles and lunging for hugs, but instead, he’s met with all of you trying to talk over each other. Kyle’s on the floor with Simon, both with a hand to help Bug sit up, and you and Johnny are shoving and trying to push the other behind. He can make out Johnny saying the word “cultural” over and over again, but the rest is jumbling together. 
Price raises a single hand, immediately silencing the room, “You can all explain what exactly is going on, one at a time, but first I will make my rounds.” 
He makes his way around the room, carefully bending for a kiss from each of you. Truly, of all the rules yall have put in place, this is one of Price’s favorites, the greeting smooches for everyone when they come in the door. It gives yall a chance to reconnect, and it really helps him settle back into the peace of his role as a father and partner. He gets to focus on his family in these moments, and he wouldn’t trade that for the fucking world.
As he picks Bug up to give her her own little smooch, the commotion starts again, making him raise his hand once more. He looks over his sweet little girl, taking in her excited little noises and smiling in return.
“Gold looks beautiful on you, Bug,” he murmurs as he gives her another smooch, enjoying the little squealing his facial hair causes. 
You let out a little whoop and the rest of the boys give a joyous little cheer as well, immediately launching into how they can use this new development to best spoil their precious Bug. And that’s all there is to it. At least in that moment.
Later on, as you’re all getting ready for bed, you notice Price is still in the nursery. He’s messing with the baby monitor, turning it on and off a couple of times to check the battery, bringing it in as close to the crib as he can. All he needs to do is tap on it to check the mic to complete a full system check. And just as you’re about to call him to bed, he does just that. He turns at the sound of your chuckle, his face so pink you know it’s spread all the way down his neck.
“You bought the top-of-the-line monitor, remember, corazon? Todo ese dinero on fancy walkie-talkies,” you press the words against his chest as he holds you close.
“Can never be too sure.”
A couple of hours later, you’re trying to untangle yourself from the too-warm cuddle puddle and all the entangled legs when you notice Price is no longer in bed. But you hear it before you get too far in your search for him, his gravelly voice humming a song through the baby monitor. 
You walk into the nursery to spot him on the big rocking chair, his legs up and reclined as possible, Bug sleeping against his bare chest. 
“She’s wounded,” he croaks as you run your fingers through his hair, “she needs her daddy to heal.” 
You don’t bring attention to the way his voice is choked up with tears, “Claro que sí, papi.”
“You were her age when you got yours?”
“I was younger.”
“And it didn’t hurt?”
“Never.”
He goes quiet, relishing the feeling of her little back rising and falling under his hand as she breathes.
“Can we take her to the guest room? Sleep with her? At least for tonight?” his nervousness seeps into his voice as he asks.
You grab the baby monitor with you as you walk him towards the guest room, just so the boys don’t panic when they wake up. Thank god yall regularly maintain the guest rooms, it makes settling the pillows and bedding much easier this late at night.
Price shakes his head when you motion towards the center of the bed for him to lay Bug down. Instead, he climbs in alongside you, keeping a sleeping Bug on his chest.
“Just for tonight,” he whispers, “Just for tonight.”
In the morning, Kyle’s voice wakes you, “I don’t know how Bug does it. She sleeps better through his snoring than any of us.”
AN: Once again, HUGE fucking shoutout to @mikichko for encouraging this and also giving us Price's precious line of "she's wounded, she needs her daddy to heal." I can't thank you enough, Kiko.
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glassrunner · 6 months
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Color Palette Meme:
@colorfulnickellandgarden asked: Johnny Silverhand + Interdimensional Blue To Turquoise
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mail-me-a-snail · 6 months
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good night citizens get a netrunner in their stocking this christmas
textless under the cut!
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merry christmas everyone ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜!!
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mi-i-zori · 4 months
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Among the Ice of Her Thoughts
CoD Viking!AU (Not Mine) - Viking!Soap x Healer!Reader
DISCLAIMER : Just a little something I wrote a while ago for @ghouljams ‘ Viking!AU. I just recently tweaked it a little. Healer!Reader is Ghoul’s character, not mine. I will write something for my own Viking!AU, but it will of course be very different from theirs. Please go check their work, it’s absolutely amazing !
WARNINGS : None.
I do not give anyone permission to re-publish and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform.
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When she finally comes back from the realm of dreams, Dag’s chariot is already high in the sky, and the sun is peaking through the fabrics of her tent.
She finds tearing her limbs from their lethargic state to be no easy task. Her muscles are begging for a few more minutes of rest ; hours, even. They pull and wail along with her every move, the creaking of her joints echoing within their walls. She could indulge them - the Gods know how many times she decided to follow her needs, going back to sleep when she was supposed to start her day. But she is not tired enough to succumb to sleep anymore ; especially not when a choir of unfamiliar voices echo from the outside of the so-called « sanctuary » she was given a few hours earlier. To her, this assortment of fabrics and furs is no safe haven, especially not when she jumps so violently every time they start dancing with the wind. Still, she is in no position to complain : not only was she given permission to use this tent as hers even though it originally belongs to the one who brought her here, but the warriors roaming the campsite also respect the boundaries this shelter was made to provide, allowing her to hide from their curious eyes.
A part of her wishes she could stay under the covers and ignore her surroundings, act as if this is was nothing more than a dream. Yet she forces herself out of their warmth, the morning breeze leaving a trail of shivering kisses along her skin.
She barely has the time to put her heavy coat on that the sun suddenly sculpts a broad silhouette on the outside of the furs. It moves silently, with the confidence of a warrior, and her whole body tenses as the man stops before the entrance of her tent. He hovers for a second as she stands frozen in place, her breathing so low even she can barely feel it in her chest.
- Vænn ? You awake ?
It’s MacTavish, she realises, his deep timbre sending a wave of warmth down her spine ; a stark contrast to the violent shivers the sound of the nickname he gave her send crawling down her spine. Despite knowing that he is unable to see her, she can’t bring herself to move. Swallowing the knot tightening in her throat, she graces him with a hum, although it comes out much weaker than she originally intended.
- ‘Am about to go gather some wood. Wanna come with me ?
His tone is low, careful ; not unlike the kind one would use to coax a terrified little creature out of its shell. She can’t really decide if she likes the idea or not. In her eyes, this behaviour of his is way too human for a man like him, cursing the flame that sways in her chest at the prospect of accepting his offer. Her satchel lies against the wooden post standing in the middle of the tent, it’s empty stomach catching her gaze. It could be a good opportunity to gather some herbs for her decoctions, she thinks, and the rational part of her soul lights up at the idea of potentially being useful to her captors. MacTavish’s words from the day before echo in her mind.
Say yes next time someone asks if you’re a healer. You’ll live longer.
- Give me a minute, she finally says, the words grating against her tongue. Please.
- Gotcha. I’ll be waiting for you near the campfire.
It’s only when his shadow disappears that the tension finally lets go of her chest. One of her hands glides along her face, a sigh escaping through her fingers. The bed is neatly made before she covers herself in warm furs and sturdy leathers. She then takes a deep breath as she opens the entrance of the tent, rolling her shoulders to ease the stiffness in her muscles. The tremors seizing her body are not from the midgardian frost waiting for her outside ; but she decides to play pretend, holding her head high as she steps in the fresh morning snow. Sól greets her with a wintery kiss on her cheek, highlighting MacTavish’s figure in the distance. She marches towards him, forcing herself to ignore the curious stares of his companions.
Vænn. A catch. A prey. That is what she is in the eyes of those who see themselves as a pack of wolves, their fur covered in blood as they take whatever they want, destroying those who refuse to yield : nothing but a frail creature meant to follow their every word in order to stay alive. Soap has made his intentions of courting her clear, promising that no harm shall befall her while she lives among his peers ; but as he greets her with a smile, guiding her towards the forest with a hand on her back, she knows she cannot allow herself to be afraid. One wrong move, and she shall become nothing more than a meal to be shared in their den.
A frozen blade pierces her core as these thoughts dance in the back of her mind. The forest is peaceful, and they slowly carve their own path through its shimmering white coat. Her gaze roams her surroundings as MacTavish starts gathering a thick bundle of branches under his arm, looking for a patch of herbs to collect. Their eyes meet, causing him to send a smile in her direction before resuming his own search. The snow crunches heavily under his boots. Her attention flickers to the blade hanging from his hips, the iron of its handle glinting in the sun. She frowns as her mother’s voice echoes through her memories.
You are not safe, she says, and she can almost see her spectre glare at the warrior’s silhouette walking ahead of her.
You are not safe.
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suddenly-stickmin · 2 months
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OUGH, @rarestdoge and I LOVE your art so much but he REALLY goes crazy over Dave, Rupert and Johnny as a trio they are his everything just like our OC x OC ships lmao bro audibly choked on air in Discord over your art
HEYYY THANK YOU SO MUCH!! Seriously that's so awesome to hear, I'm so happy you guys are diggin my art sob sob <3 <3 [and yesss ouhg Dave, Rupert, and Johnny are soooo solid togetherrrr]
Here's a little drawing of Brutus and @rarestdoge 's Cameron as a thank you!!
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constellaj · 1 year
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Hi!! I really love your works.. can I request a fic? I was maybe hoping for Soap helping reader through caffeine withdrawal? 👀 I know it's a bit specific, but I find it really endearing ☹️☹️
P.S. I love Amelia!! Such a neat OC. 🫶🫶
What’s In A Drink? Caffeine, Apparently.
A John “Soap” MacTavish x Reader fic
A/N: Thank you, Anon! 
I’ve been wanting to write something for Soap for a bit, but I couldn’t really think of anything I might want to do. I’m going to make this two parts, just to give you all something to nibble on while I work on the other things. Thank you to my readers for the brainworms and all the support! I’m sorry that this part is so short :/
This one’s a little heavy on the content warnings only because addiction is a sensitive topic, and I get that it’s hard for some people. That being said, it’s entirely understandable if you don’t want to read this. Feel free to keep scrolling. 
CW/TW: slight angst, discussions and symptoms of addiction/withdrawal, depressive and self-deprecating behavior, swearing, implied self-starvation
18+ only please, MDNI (I can’t control your content consumption, but if you’re underage, don’t interact). As much as I appreciate the support, I don’t want to block people.
Reader: GN Reader, You/Your PNs, use of R/N
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“C’mon, ye’ve gottae eat.” It’s the same familiar brogue that you love-hate. Johnny. 
“I can’t,” you say, picking your head off your arms. The all-too-familiar prickle of irritation scratches at the back of your skull. “My appetite is nonexistent.”
“At least try, please. It’s no’ good to starve yerself,” Johnny pleads.
The prickle starts to feel more like cactus spines with every passing second. “I said I’m not hungry, John.” John. You never call him John. “Just back off.”
But of course, Johnny’s persistence remains. He steels himself for the rest of the harsh words that are sure to spill from your lips. “Look, ye dinnae need to be cunty. I’m only tryin’ tae help ye. It’s better tae eat proper food than chug an energy drink. And ye ken we’re using vacation days for this.”
Your head falls back down to rest on your forearm, your other hand fidgeting with the ties of your sweatshirt’s hood. You’re staring at the ground beneath the table, between your socked feet. “I didn’t ask for your help, Johnny. You just kind of inserted yourself into my business, now you’re wasting your vacation days making sure I get out of bed and eat more than half a bowl of cereal. I didn’t ask you to.”
“Look, I ken,” Johnny sighs. “I ken ye dinnae want me around, but I want tae help ye feel better. I ken it’s hard, but it’s easier tae do it now than tae deal wit’ it on a mission when ye cannae have a Monster. Not tae mention, they’re shite for yer health; the taurine in those things, Jesus.”
“Alright, Johnny, I get it. Just back off,” you grumble, pushing your chair from the table as you stand. “I don’t need your help. Just leave me alone.”
Johnny looks at you softly, almost sadly, as you turn and walk towards your room. “Love, I didnae mean to pester ye, I only want ye better.”
“Why, you can’t deal with me like this?” You spit. 
He’s shocked, taken aback, but he still tries to fix it. “No, I didnae mean it like that, I swear. I only meant-”
“It doesn’t matter what you meant. I don’t care. Might just be better if we broke up, seeing as you don’t want to put up with me anymore.”
“What? No, R/N, I didnae say that! I dinnae want tae throw us away over a little misunderstanding. I love ye, and I want tae marry ye one day. I-” He cut himself off. 
“Look, I don’t care, okay? I mean- wait, what did you say? You want to marry me?”
I'm cutting this here (for the cliffhanger hehe). I'll probably have the other half out for y'all in a few days. I've been extra busy lately and haven't found much time to work on the fics, but I'm trying when I can. Thank you all for being so patient and supporting me!
P.S. I'll upload this to Ao3 later. I'm a bit short on time at the moment.
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whoredmode · 27 days
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my part of a quick lil art trade w @fuluga! her boss luz and johnny!! the most stylish couple in stilwater
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scary-monsters · 6 months
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You can’t say send you jojo characters and not expect me to ask you to do HP. You don’t have to but I DO have to ask. Maybe a modern Hp if you wanna spice it up
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genuinely so glad you asked, i could never deny you an HP 🧡 @michael-rrodent also asked for them AND i threw in modern johnny as well since @penny-lane-123 and @spacejasontodd requested him!
this is them as they'd appear in my silly little modern diego lore; HP is diego's first true love that he meets at cambridge :')) they're a religious studies student who knocks some sense into diego and convinces him to follow his dreams and figure himself out. they also have tattoos and they give diego all his piercings, which starts off as a dare but eventually becomes a very intimate bonding experience. HP graduates and moves to italy, the two both agree they can't do long distance BUT they stay best friends and HP is diego's go-to for advice for years and years after their relationship. in any au where they aren't dating, i love the two of them as amicable exes.
and johnny.. WELL, he's diego's childhood best friend and awkward first gay kiss 💀 they're both teenagers trying to figure out life and unfortunately johnny does not appreciate the gesture so he ghosts diego for years.. i like to think they eventually start talking again, even if it happens as a result of diego giving him shit when he finds out johnny is dating gyro.
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miru667 · 2 years
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Collab with @clarabellumsart <333 I drew the lines and she coloured it SOOOO BEAUTIFULLYYY!! Feat. her OC Johnny and my Audrey, they are BFFs and fellow knights who like to goof around during their downtime :3
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amphirrhvx · 11 days
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I NEARLY FORGOT TO POST THESE HERE!! a bit ago I had an idea for a cageblind mermaid au, and with the help of some of my amazing friends over on twt I managed to make it come to life!!! so here’s chuck and johnny in the mkL mermaid au!! am I still allowed to say happy mermay even if it ends tomorrow? whatever. happy mermay! 🩵
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ghstsrock · 28 days
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DARRY CURTIS HATE CANNONS‼️😼😼
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Darrel Curtis Headcanons (HATER EDITION)
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! 🗯 ⋆ hateful Darrel Curtis headcanons
( a/n : a lot of these were taken from @crow2222 ‘s post which provided facts about Darry from the book. I reblogged it before posting this so go take a look at that if you please! )
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✶ hates movies???
WHAT?????
✶ Captain of the football team
never a good sign
✶ probably also did choir or sumn
✶ The future back issues are gonna be insane
✶ Intimidating
✶ drinks black coffee
✶ Never locks his fucking doors
PSYCHOPATH. PSY-CHO-PATH.
✶ he has an attitude
✶ Eats everything
✶ GAY
he knows gymnastics AND ballet (you need ballet for football)
✶ Bro does not get enough sleep
✶ properly has a tramp stamp
✶ idk who said this but DARRY IS AFRAID OF WOMEN
gay??
✶ thousand yard stare
✶ the type of person to apologize by making the person favorite food instead of saying he’s sorry
✶ SNORES
and he does that smoker cough in his sleep too, fucking sleep apnea
✶ Spencerian handwriting
✶ collects oddly scented lotions and candles
✶ stands fruity
✶ chicken on his pizza.
✶ desperate for the American dream
and I mean desperate. he dreams about it, cries about it, eats about it, drinks about it - he needs it
✶ picks favorites
✶ Owns a kiss the cook apron
😒😒
✶ hot take, lacks empathy
✶ Savior complex
✶ totally has a guitar he never uses but no ones allowed to touch it because it’s expensive
✶ loses three people including his little brother
loser
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﹙📦﹚ request inbox thing is open ﹒zᶻ
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sofasoap · 11 months
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First dance
I just want to squeal and scream with this art. Thank you @kaplerrr, Oh you done it again after the lovely “Mini"MacTavish art you have come up with last time. Based on the scene of my fic Hello There. where Soap and Reader/OC(Emma if you read it from another fic) shares a dance during Simon and Mini's wedding. There are not enough art of Soap wearing kilt out there, and oh, the talented @kaplerrr has done it. You have no idea how happy this made me. Thank you SO SO SO SO MUCH.
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