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#the medical team is NOT having a good time
silovsmenot · 2 days
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Bloody Nose | Matt Rempe (Part Two)
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FIND PART ONE HERE SUMMARY: A few months later, the medic has gotten to know the young fighter well — a line brawl and early exit to a game gives Matt the perfect excuse to ask her out for a coffee. WARNINGS: Mentions of blood & bruises. PAIRING: Matt Rempe x f! reader. NOTES: All I'm say is ✨boss lady✨ I dont currently have an idea for p3, but let me know if you want more! WORD COUNT: 2424
The months rolled on, and you’d seen more of a split of your time between university and your volunteer role with the New York Rangers. You attended practise and all the games, ready with hair tied back and the blue medical gloves on.
You were getting the perfect experience, this role was going to be golden for your studies and you’d already been offered the same role, but paid, next year if you wanted it — of course, you did. It would fit perfectly around your studies, and you were beginning to enjoy yourself. You were becoming more familiar with the guys, who in turn were more honest with their injuries.
And you had one particular patient who visited you with bruises, bloody noses and cuts more often than the others. Over the weeks, you’d grown to know Matt fairly well. His teases and mannerisms were almost second nature by this point. He’d stroll into the medical room with a ‘sore wrist’ and you’d wrap it, or he’d bumped his broken nose and it was bleeding again. Matt had even developed the ‘about to fight’ signal, just for ‘The Boss Lady’.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d have become slightly suspicious of his frequent visits to you. You brushed them aside for carelessness on his part, or simply the love of the fight. Not as an excuse to flirt with you, nor did you particularly notice his flirting for anything more than a playful nature.
He was easy on the eyes though, and you had a good laugh with him — you’d never turn him away.
It was April 3rd, you were standing in the cold of Madison Square Garden waiting for the puck to drop, just like everyone else in the arena. You almost missed his signal, your eyes caught by the referee as his hand rose, puck ready. Gaze flicking across, you watched Matt’s head turn to you — his dark eyes giving you the wink as you watched the mischievous smile simply engulf his features.
Matt was about to fight … But you weren’t ready for the chaos that would follow. You simply blinked and gloves were thrown everywhere. Players grabbing players as punches were thrown without mercy. The crowd was deafening as five pairs fought — you winced with every punch.
“You want all five?” The head medic laughed across to you, nudging your arm as you watched in complete shock. You were new to hockey, as far as fan standards went, but this was nothing you’d ever seen before. Nor had you heard that level of noise from the crowd.
But you couldn’t help but smile as the crowd began to chant his name, a little excitement that you’d refuse to admit to him, naturally. And watching as he skated to the gate, hands beckoning to crowds and calling for the cheers — he was loving this, and so were the crowd.
You couldn’t see any blood, but you gripped the towel instinctively. Ready for the referees to send over any injured players, but that wasn’t how this was unfolding. You were left in confusion as players began to leave the penalty box, from both teams. Not injured, but to the changing rooms.
And the crowd went wild as Matt left the box, his hand once again raised as he beckoned on the cheers from the crowd. The little shit, you thought but you could not stop grinning at all of this. Four Rangers players left the ice, the head medic giving you the nudge to follow.
“Go and check them.”
You simply nodded, breaking into a slow jog down the team tunnel toward the changing rooms. The first you heard was the laughing and whooping from the four guys, all of them clearly proud of themselves. Inside the changing room, K’Andre, Trouba, Goodrow and Rempe were looking pretty smug as you entered with brow raised.
But their cheers fell silent at the first sight of you — smug turning slightly sheepish, as though they were expecting a scolding from you. None would come. You couldn’t stop the smile that began to spread upon your features, head shaking as they too found their smiles.
“Are you all alright?” You spoke through the silence, each guy nodding almost as quickly as you spoke — except Rempe. The other three watched him, almost expecting this. Like they knew he’d play up on some ‘injury’, an excuse to get you alone again. And they were all completely unsurprised when he finally spoke out.
“That guy got my jaw good, have a look, boss?” Rempe muttered with a reddened hand, which would definitely be bruised in the morning, pointed at the left side of his jaw. As he spoke, grin lingering, you could see some blood in his mouth so he wasn’t completely lying. But the other guys exchanged a look, a few eyes rolling.
Stepping aside, you pointed the giant down the corridor to the familiar medical room. He knew the way well by now, walking with the smug swagger. He’d push open the door with ease, holding open for you to enter before jumping upon the medical bed with a thud. He was a little child, proud of himself for winning the playground fight — and you were struggling to not find that intoxicating.
“So, boss, did you like that fight?”  Matt quickly spoke with his familiar forward lean, eyes lightly narrowed in amusement. You stood, as you always did, just before him with your arms naturally crossed upon your chest.
“Did you win? I don’t think you won.”
It was always the same answer with him. It started on your first day, and still would not admit that you liked his fight… even if it did make your heart race and your stomach twist. It was a strange blend of not wanting to see him hurt, but also enjoying the thrill of watching him fight.
And he loved it every time you wouldn’t admit that you liked the fight. He’d get you to admit it one day, but he was getting so used to the fans telling him how they loved his fights — you were making him work for it. And that drove him crazy.
“It was a draw, that’s close.” Matt would protest, leaning that little bit closer so you could feel his hot breath on your skin once again. You felt how your skin burned beneath his breath, silently begging for him to get even closer. “When will you admit that you like my fights, boss?”
“On the day you win.”
“I have won fights; you just weren’t there.”
“Tough shit, win a fight.”
“Come for a coffee with me, and I’ll win a fight for you.”
You fell silent for a moment. The quick quips were how you both always were, not wasting a breath between retorts to the other. Teases at the other’s expense… but this was different. It had been months now, since that first game, and he’d shown no signs of interest that you saw. Though he thought you were blind to the signs.
“Is that a yes?” He whispered, head tilting and grin growing with each passing moment of your rare silence. Matt had caught you off guard, and he knew it.
“I don’t date clients.” You spluttered, turning your back to him abruptly with hands collecting the familiar cup of water. His hand was already extending to accept it from you.
“I’m not a client, and don’t try to get out of this. Come for a coffee, and if you hate it, I won’t ask if you like my fights again.”
Your eyes narrowed as you turned back to him, cup of water in his hand as he took the large sip and swilled. The grin immediately back to his lips after the spit of crimson-tinted water.
“Fine.” You sighed; hands raised in defeat but inside? You felt the fluttering in your stomach, the skips of heartbeat. Kicked out of the game, you left Matt with the others in the changing room before returning to the bench. The excitement wouldn’t end there, with a whole litany of fights and almost injuries throughout the first period.
Needless to say, you slept well that night.
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You weren’t sure what to expect when the agreed date came around. To be honest, you thought he’d back out or forget — but when you awoke to a text from him that morning, you knew the coffee date was still on.
You watched the clock tick down through your lecture, knowing that when you emerged, Matt would be waiting outside. You didn’t tell your friends, especially the ones who knew about the team. You weren’t sure why; you didn’t expect this to go anywhere but telling them that you were going on a date with Matt Rempe? You’d never escape the questions.
The clock turned 1pm and the bustle of books and laptops began, bodies rushing out of the lecture theatre with speed. Walking beside your friends, your eyes were immediately drawn by the waiting giant beyond the doors. You laughed quietly as you watched the small congregation get their photos and signatures from him — he’d grown quite the fanbase with his antics. But over them all, he simply stared at you.
He’d never seen you not in your team uniform, and he was enamoured with this side of you immediately.
“That’s Matt Rempe.” Your closest friend whispered as she yanked on your arm, shaking you from the trance that you found within his gaze. For a brief moment, you played dumb — pretending you couldn’t see him, your friend dragging you toward him with heavy steps.
“You ready to go?” Matt called out as you neared him, which only served to make your friend’s draw drop. She looked for a moment at Matt, then to you, then to Matt. She was in shock, and both you and Matt laughed at that.
Untangling your arm from your friend, you took the few steps toward the Ranger with your head nodding. He offered you his arm in replacement for your friends and, with your eyebrow raised in amusement and disbelief, you took it.
Matt didn’t tell you where you were going, he simply asked about your morning as he led you through the busy streets with a clear destination in mind. And it wasn’t long before he was opening the door for you to a little café, with walls lined with books.
To say you were surprised would have been an understatement. You thought you knew Matt well enough by now, but from how the barista welcomed the Ranger upon entry, you got the feeling that this was somewhere came often — to read?
“You like books?” You puzzled, frozen in place as you scanned the shelves. His hands upon your shoulders, he weaved your body through the café to a seat in a little nook — quiet and undisturbed by the other café visitors.
“I like books.” He whispered, elbows upon the table as he leaned forward. There was that smile again, smug that he’d kept this secret from you, and you were visibly surprised by it. And smug that you seemed to like that about him. “Did you think I was a dumb brute?”
You laughed at that. Maybe you did, without even realising it. You’d judged him, and you’d been wrong — you were glad that you were wrong.
He didn’t wait for a response for he already had his answer in your laughter. But he rose from the seat, disappearing for a few minutes before he’d return with two coffees in hand.
“What are you reading at the moment then?”
Hands wrapped around the warmth of the coffee cup as you watched him, holding it close to your chest. Matt slid back into the seat, taking a moment to get comfortable before his chocolate gaze was stuck upon you once more. And there, his gaze would stay.
“At the moment? Nineteen Eighty-Four.”  He waited for you to say that you didn’t believe him, ready to get the barista to confirm his story. But you did believe him — you were surprised, but he never struck you as a liar.
“That’s a pretty deep book, are you enjoying it?”
And he’d nod, taking the first sip of his coffee with eyes watching you over the mug. It was so easy to get lost in those eyes.
Minutes turned into hours, and you both showed no signs of tiring of the other. You talked books, movies, friends — everything that came to mind and more. Three cups of coffee later, and you were getting hungry. But far from tired of his company.
“I should probably get going. I need to grab dinner on the way home.” You finally said, a sadness to your words that he immediately picked up on. You didn’t want to leave, whether you’d admit it or not… And nor did he.
“I don’t have any dinner plans.” Matt probed; his brow raised in suggestion. “Pizza?”
Your lips parted to find a protest, an excuse not to — but you stopped yourself. You’d enjoyed yourself, so why end it there?
“Pizza.”
His grin grew even further than you’d seen as you agreed. The proud nodding of his head as he rose with a hand immediately offered out to you, which you swiftly took to stand. The barista gave a small wave as you both left that little coffee shop, Matt thanking him and whispering something to the guy that you didn’t hear. You wouldn’t ask what, not yet at least.
Emerging onto the street, the sun setting on the horizon, Matt’s arm was offered out to you as before — this time, however, you refused it. Your hand rising to ignore the arm, but to tangle fingers together. Matt would not protest, he simply found himself staring at the intertwining of your hands. The size difference in your hands was quite large, but they fit together well.
It was the cue he sought, and he wouldn’t pass it up. His free hand rising to gently touch upon your jaw, he tilted your face back that little bit to allow his lips to find yours. You accepted every movement and melted against his lips. Lips lingered together for a few moments; his touch so soft against your skin. And as lips parted, he remained close with the usual cheeky grin replaced with a contented smile, small and genuine. You made him feel peaceful, and he liked that.
“I hope you’re ready for my next fight, because you’re going to love it.”  
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crazy4nika · 2 days
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look for the light
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warnings: injury, but thats quite literally it!!!
nika muhl x reader
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you dropped to the ground, clutching your knee in your hands as tears instantly spilled from your eyes. you heard a whistle blow, then everything went so quiet.
your fist found the ground as you cried out in pain.
everything was so blurry. people stood above you but you couldn’t make out anyones faces.
it was all too much. the lights were so bright, it made your head throb. you squeezed your eyes together so hard and covered them with your hands to block it out, but nothing worked.
“hey,” a hand was placed on your shoulder. “its okay, look at me.”
you pulled your hand from your face reluctantly and wiped your tears, blinking more away.
a brunette girl was kneeled in-front of you, brushing flyaway hairs away from your sweaty face. “everything’s okay.”
“no its not. it hurts so bad. its not okay.” she shushed you while she twisted your ponytail around.
nika grabbed your hand lightly as they sat you up. geno and paige stood above you, talking to the medics as they asked questions.
geno lent down, “hey kiddo, were gonna try to stand you up and get you over to the side, alright?” you nodded your head lightly in response.
nika wrapped an arm around you and began to help you up, the medic grabbing your other side.
as soon as you were up, a cry escaped your mouth the second you were upright.
panicked breaths escaped your mouth as you failed to stand. not managing to put any pressure on your leg. “i know it hurts, but we have to do this,” she mumbled out, more of your weight falling to her.
geno hushed a few of the girls over to the bench, all of them glancing back over with worried looks. “she needs to try one more step, then you put her back down if she can’t.”
“we need to move her.”
“you will do as i say. you will do what is best for my players.” geno spoke sternly, trying to cover up his slight anger.
the second medic, a shorter girl, smiled lightly at you, “can you try one more time, honey?”
“mhm.”
nika held your hip even tighter, pulling more weight off your leg. “you’ve got this, baby.”
a light cry escaped your mouth as you took another step, quickly stepping off of it and onto your other leg. “ geno stood infront of you, “what do you think.”
“let me keep going, please.”
“does it hurt?”
you took another step, “yes.”
and as you went for another step, you crumbled into nikas side, tears filling your eyes again. “shh. sit down.” you were so dizzy, and so tired. as soon as you reached the floor, you couldn’t stay awake anymore. the pain was too much. the light slowly turned into darkness. you would’ve been scared but nikas worried eyes staring into yours were enough to calm you down as you went out.
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you were only out for about five minutes, but it felt like forever to the entire team.
they will admit, moving you off of the court was much easier when you were passed out. nika held your hand the entire time. she refused to let go, so when you woke up on the floor by the bench, she was sitting next to you still. ice was placed over your forehead and your knee.
after you blinked the fogginess away, it was almost like you never fell asleep. the pain was back. it was so horrible.
paige and caroline were there as-well, sitting on the floor. they were leant over your leg.
it was purple around your knee, bruising happening very quickly. geno got down on one knee by you, “hey, they’re gonna bring you in.”
“m’kay, thats fine.”
you rolled over to your side, the bags of ice falling off as you curled into a ball.
paige rubbed your back, mumbling about how its going to work out good. caroline just stared at your leg, processing what happened. nika loosened your ponytail just incase you got a headache while she murmured sweet words into your ear.
you held onto one of her hands and your other hand clutched the front of her jersey.
as they loaded you onto the stretcher, she dropped your hand for the first time since it had happened. she furrowed her eyebrows and gave you a light smile before turning away, not looking back. she knew that if she turned around she wouldn’t be able to leave you.
the entire ride was surreal. it was as if nothing had happened in your head. you were still on that court with your team. you were still with your girls.
you had the game playing live on your phone. you wanted to know how it was going, but they were off. it was almost like they didn’t care for the rest of the quarter. you would’ve thought that they didn’t, if you watched how they played. it was so messy.
when the buzzer sounded they were down sixteen. the fourth quarter began minutes later, and they were closing the gap. it was a seven point, then four, then two, and then they were tied. in the final seconds they took the lead, securing the win for uconn.
you smiled at the screen as they celebrated, sinking further into the hospital bed.
doctors came in and out, poking around and asking more questions.
after multiple test and a mri, they had decided it was a torn acl.
it was as if everything had suddenly fallen apart. you thought that there would be nothing wrong, you had convinced yourself. but there was something wrong, and it was season ending.
the shock slowly left and it turned into being upset, then angry. you just laid there and silently cried.
after an hour, geno came into the room. you guys didn’t talk about your leg, he was trying to take your mind off of it. then nika came in and he left. she spoke so softly, wiping tears off your face. she pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back, pressing light kisses to the side of your head. “it’s gonna be okay, baby. i promise,” she mumbled lightly, twirling your ponytail around.
you looked at her through watery eyes, “i’m so mad. how could i let this happen?” you sobbed, tugging on the collar of her shirt. “no, stop it. its not like you could’ve predicted this. everybody gets hurt sometimes.”
“but this isn’t a sore ankle or a broken finger. i’m gonna have to get surgery, and i’m out for the rest of the season!”
she cupped your face with her hands, “take a deep breath, please. i’ll do it with you, okay?”
you nodded at her, focusing on your breathing. “there you go…good girl.” she pulled you into a light hug, sitting on the side of the hospital bed. you cuddled into her side, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “don’t leave, just stay here,” you whispered out.
“i’m not going anywhere.”
and that was the truth. she was with you when you went in for surgery and when you woke up. she was there for your first step on your leg. she was there when you starting playing basketball again. she never left.
“nika?”
“whats up?”
“your the light of my life.”
send reqs please i’m sooo boredd im begging youuu
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(Click for better quality!)
Mox / Stak / Deke/ Omega
Last in my installment of character sheets for the Havoc Squadron, a rebel who needs no introduction, but is getting one anyways because I said so.
Leader of the Havoc Squadron, Commander Omega Karr carries her clone brothers and sister with her wherever she goes.
Her "Rebellion" look, I thought it would be apt for her to have part of the pilot's uniform, but I also thought it would be good to merge that with some of her Pabu look but also adding in my own elements as in, Tech and Hunter's vambraces, as well as Tech's goggles. In her "No Order 66" AU look, she does have the pauldron and kamas that typically denote a clone of command, the kamas themselves being a homage to Echo. Her helmet was Hunters, but modified with a rangefinder.
Jack of all trades and master of them all, Omega serves as the squad's primary pilot, medic, droid and demolitions expert, as well as the leader. She's a compassionate heart, but also a fierce fighter, who will take a stand for anyone in need. She will defer her decisions to her team and knows when to delegate and utilize her brother's strengths. Known for her "unorthodox" methods on the field, when the cavalry arrives, you hope it's Omega leading them.
Trained in multiple forms of combat, Omega's weapon kit is as extensive as her repertoire. One DC-17 hand-blaster as her backup weapon, one immaculately kept vibroknife for close-range combat, and, in times of need, one commandeered Firepuncher to serve as the team's sniper.
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petalruesimblr · 2 days
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Hello everyone! Lately, I've been interested in creating part-time careers and have been brainstorming various kinds of realistic options that can be used for The Sims 3.
This time, I'm back with a Medical Support Staff part-time career. It combines different part-time roles in the medical field, such as Medical Receptionist, Medical Records Clerk and Medical Scribe and these roles don't necessarily require a license or a college degree.
If you are interested, click on ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures of the Medical Support Staff Part-Time Career.
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Medical Support Staff
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Sim File Share
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Join our Medical Support Staff Team in providing essential support services to our patients and medical professionals. Assist with administrative tasks, provide support to patients and be a vital part of our healthcare operations. Apply now and become a part of our dedicated team making a difference in healthcare!
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Career Type: Part-Time Available for: Young Adults, Adults and Elders Available Languages: English Levels: 3 Rabbit Hole: Hospital Work Days: M, T, W, F Work Hours: 9AM - 12PM Does it have Carpool? Yes Does it have Uniforms? Yes (same uniforms used for the Medical career; Bed Pan Cleaner, refer to pictures above) File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3 📣 All descriptions for the levels, tones and metrics as well as skills required, salary, uniforms and other details are provided on the pictures above.
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NRAAS Careers Mod
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I decided to use game screenshots from The Sims 3 that I took during the testing period instead of creating detailed images because it takes less time compared to the other one and I've been quite busy these past few days. You may have noticed my new post format, which I'm trying out to see if it works for me. Since I started my Simblr account, I've been experimenting with what works or looks good with my theme. Hopefully, I will find something that I'll be happy with. So, I hope you'll be patient with me as I tend to change things every now and then. The Charisma skill is added as one of its metrics because this part-time career mostly involves interacting with patients and fellow medical staff. This includes tasks such as checking in patients, scheduling appointments and coordinating medical procedures with different teams in the hospital. Logic is also the other Metric as I think the longer you work in that setting you will eventually learn the medical jargons especially if you have been promoted to the highest level and need to accurately record everything during patient examinations. As stated above, you will need NRAAS Careers Mod for these careers to show up in the game and as long as you have the latest version of it, it should work for higher patches. You can also read my #psa regarding these careers, click here. I’m not fluent in any other languages to translate so if anyone is interested in translating this career, please don’t hesitate to send me a message here, comment on this post or let me know in my new Ask/Contact form (if you don't have a Tumblr account) and will let you know the details. I have tested this career in my game, so far it is working and all scripts are showing up. All feedback is very welcome to help me learn and improve my skills so please let me know if you experience any problems on your end and I’ll do my best to sort it as soon as possible.
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MissyHissy step-by-step tutorial Twallan for the Career Mod S3pe
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mphoenix-7 · 1 day
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Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]
Chapter 3: The Debrief
Book Summary: John "Soap" MacTavish has hated you since the very first day you arrived on base and joined their Task Force. You argue all the time, and one day, it pushes Captain Price to his absolute limit. He sends you both away to an isolated cabin in the woods for a week in hopes you can put aside your differences and bond. Will it work? Or will you two just end up hating each other even more?
This is a slow burn enemies to lovers fan fiction featuring Soap and you, the reader.
Word Count: 5,581
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Soap is mean, like really mean, smut later to come, rough smut, lots of swearing, violence, descriptive, blood, angst, fluff, slow burn, (more to come as I write)
A/N: Enjoy this one!
Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->
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Bitter Allies • Part 3
It was a relief when you finally pulled up to the rendezvous site. Medics were already on standby outside of the helo with a stretcher and supplies. Ghost, in his classic white skull mask, stood among them, watching as your transport rolled in.
Soap was the first one out, giving information to the medical team as they rushed up to take General Azamat away. You slipped out the other side, walking around the vehicle and straight to the waiting helicopter. The General's blood still stained your hands, and you wanted desperately to wash them. Before you can board though, you pass by Ghost, who stops you by grabbing your arm.
"You look like shit. He give you trouble?" Ghost asks, his voice gruff. Ghost wasn't a man of many words, but there always was an odd comfort in the way he spoke. Though to anyone outside of the military, he probably just seemed intimidating and rude.
"Doesn't he always?" You answer your lieutenant, glancing back over to your shoulder as you watched Soap help the medics lift General Azamat onto the stretcher. Ghost follows your gaze and lets go of your arm.
"Go get cleaned up. You did good today." His words gave you a little reassurance, but you aren't too accepting of them at the moment.
"Johnny would disagree." You grumble to Ghost before stepping up into the helo.
The entire mission seemed like a reck from the very beginning. Nothing seemed to go smoothly. Maybe it was just because you were working with Soap. Or maybe it was because you felt like you'd made too many mistakes, ones that Soap was more than happy to point out constantly. Then again, why should you care what he thought? Maybe things did go fairly well, and you just couldn't see that right now. All you knew was that you were exhausted, and your hands were dirty.
You only had access to wet wipes and rubbing alcohol until you got back to base but that was far better than just sitting with someone else's blood staining your hands. Pulling them from a small metal cabinet attached to the side of the helo, you sit down and get to work on scrubbing away at your hands. Slowly the white pristine cloths turn pink. 
Shortly after you get to scrubbing your hands, the General is loaded up next to you. The medics are a mass of chaotic movement as they tend to him, and you find yourself getting up to move to a different spot.
Right as you find a calmer place to sit on the other side of the helicopter, there's a single muddy boot stepping into your line of sight. Looking up, you see Soap is trying to board, and you lock eyes with him for a long tense moment. Him mid-step up onto the helo, and you staying firmly planted where you'd sat down. Before anything can start, Ghost steps in.
"Problem?" He asks, breaking Soap out of his frozen state. Soap steps back down then so both of his feet are firmly planted on the ground.
"With her? Several." He mutters, eyes staying locked onto yours. You roll your eyes at him, clenching your jaw.
"That's enough, Soap." Ghost scolds, his voice firm. "You're going to have to wait for the next bird anyway. This one's full." He continues, which was the best news you'd heard all day. "See you on base, States." Ghost adds.
With that, Ghost gives two rough pats to the side of the metal helo, and the blades start to whirl faster. Before you can fully leave though, you can't help but make one more jab at your annoying field partner.
"Hope next time it doesn't hit the plate!" You shout over the loud sounds of the chopper taking off. You didn't really mean that, but exhaustion and stress were getting the better of you, and you were annoyed.
"Oh, thanks for the parting wish, States! You're a real charmer!!" He shouts back, trying to take a step closer, but Ghost puts an arm in front of him to keep him back.
You roll your eyes and slide the helo door shut. Through the little window, you watch as Soap and Ghost back further away from the helicopter. Ghost gives a thumbs up to the pilot, signaling they were all clear, and then it starts to lift off the ground. Peace until you land back on base and inevitably run into Soap again.
***
Ghost and Soap watch as the bird takes off, carrying their target and teammate away. The next transport would be arriving shortly to take the remaining men and women back. For now, they just needed to sit tight.
As soon as the loud sounds of the helo were fading into the distance, Soap lets out a long groan and rolls his neck and shoulders. Typically, Ghost preferred to stay away from their drama, but his brother-in-arms and close friend seemed a little more tense than usual.
"What was that all about?" He ventures, watching Soap cross his arms tightly across his chest.
"Ah, just fucking stateside bonnie boakin'," he mutters under his breath. "I swear she purposely acts like a brat just to piss me off. Well, she's doing a bloody good job at that, ain't she?" He continues on, letting out a stressed laugh as Ghost continues to listen silently. "Never thought I'd ever meet someone who just grates on my nerves as much as she does."
"I think she'd say the same about you." Ghost replies, getting more exasperated expressions from the Scot.
"Are you really siding with her?! I tell her fucking no, and she does the opposite, I tell her what to do, and she rolls her eyes at me like a fucking child! Whenever she's around, I can just feel my shoulders get tense, and I just had to do an entire mission like that with her!"
Ghost huffs as he listens to Soap. "You two just need to fuck and get it out of your system."
Soap nearly choked on his own spit at Ghost's remark. Ghost was pretty blunt at times, but this was a whole new level. He ran a hand over his face, his cheeks coloring slightly at the thought of even sleeping with States. He'd rather die than ever sleep with her. 
"Go fuck yourself, Ghost." He retorted, thinking the man must have been joking. This was just one of Ghost's dry humored jokes. "If you really think sex is going to fix anything, you're as delusional as her." Annoyance was beginning to creep back into his tone.
Ghost rolls his eyes at the Sergeant, though doesn't let him see that. "You never heard of hate-fucking? Sex is a great way to let off steam. Releases tension. And you and States got so much damn tension." Ghost took that moment to light a cigarette then, putting his mask up just enough to light it and take a drag. "Gives me fucking headache," he continues, exhaling slowly. "Watching you two fight all the damn time."
"Well you're just full of great advice, aren't you then?" He rolls his eyes sarcastically, still a bit stunned at his lieutenant's words. "As thrilling as that sounds," Ghost raises a brow at him, making Soap's tone change to a more harsh one. "I prefer my sex not to come with a big ol'side of hostility. What, do you like her or something and want to live vicariously through me?"
Ghost lets out a laugh, which for him was just a light huff of air. Either way, it was very rare for Ghost to laugh at anything. "I'm not the relationship type, Johnny." He says simply, taking another short puff of his cigarette. "Besides," he exhales the smoke. "If she means nothing, then why are you getting all testy about it?"
"I'm not testy!" He retorts defensively, his tone somewhat contradictory to what he was trying to prove. He realizes this and takes a deep breath to calm down. "I just... I don't like her. That's all. There isn't anything deeper than that." There couldn't be anything deeper. He refused to even venture down that path. "Let's just drop it. I don't want to talk about her anymore, and I don't want to fuck her either. End of story."
Ghost had a slight smirk on his face. Whether or not Soap did have deeper feelings beyond hate for the 141 girl, it was just a little amusing to see him so worked up. He didn't really care too much if he was right or wrong. "Whatever you say, Johnny." He muses, finishing off his cigarette and flicking it to the ground to stomp it out.
In the distance, he could hear the spinning blades of the second helo. He hears Soap grumble at his response, clearly not happy that Ghost was acting like he didn't believe him.
As soon as the big metal bird landed, Soap was rushing to board it. Ghost doesn't push the subject of him and States any further though. It was fun to tease the Sergeant and get him worked up, but Ghost knew when to stop too. Still, that doesn't stop Ghost from smirking as he follows him to the helicopter.
***
By the time you arrive on base, you just want to collapse in your room and sleep. First you need to shower though. Blood, sweat, and dirt stuck to your skin, weighting down your tired body even more. You hope that the showers aren't full and that you'll be able to grab one rather quickly. You want to get in some sleep before the mission debrief.
The helicopter doors slide open, and you jump out, feet hitting the tarmac. A dull ache shoots up your legs, a familiar feeling post mission.
Up ahead, you can see Captain Price is waiting. He always touches base with each squad member upon their return from a mission if he's around. It's a rather sweet gesture.
He's standing with his arms behind his back, feet spread shoulder length apart, and spine straight as a board. The bucket hat he never goes anywhere without is atop his head, threatening to blow off due to the wind caused by the helicopter and of course a cigar between his lips. Despite the tiredness, you're happy to see him.
"States, glad you see you've returned to us in one piece." He teases. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, yet they still remain hardened from all the time he's served.
You give him a smile, allowing yourself to stop and enjoy his company. "I don't feel like I'm in one piece. This was a rough one." You admit easily. Despite only knowing him for six months, Price was a man you trusted deeply.
Price raises his brow at your response, looking a little surprised by your answer. "I heard the update from Ghost. Sounds like some unexpected challenges came up. Nothing I didn't think you couldn't handle."
"Just... beating myself up about it. I don't like deviating from the plan." It wasn't a lie, but not the whole truth either.
"Important lesson to be learned there, States. No matter how much you plan for something, never count on it being final. You will never be able to plan for everything. This life will always take you by surprise. You can either let it get you down, or you can run with it."
You can't help but smile at the old man. "Thanks Price. You and your old man wisdom. I'll file that one away."
Price chuckles softly, though you can tell he's trying to read you right now. He's very subtle about it, but you've learned how to detect it. His eyes give him away.
"I might be old, but I'm not blind. What else is buggin' you?"
Of course he'd notice. Nothing gets past the Captain. "What do you think?" You injury, watching as he shifts his weight and crosses his arms.
"Hmm..." He mocks like he needs to think about it. "Wouldn't be MacTavish would it?"
"Wow, that's insane. How'd you know?" You banter, watching as he rolled his eyes at your jesting.
"Lucky guess." He says simply.
"You put us together on a mission," you state, getting a nod from your Captain.
"I did." He confirms.
"Why?" You frown. Price knew you didn't get along. He knew nothing good came from you two being in the same room. Yet for some reason, he sent you out with him anyway.
Price sighs softly, looking away from you for a moment as if he needed to think out what he wanted to say. After a moment, he answers you.
"I don't think you realize the potential of just how good of a team you and Soap could be." He starts. You open your mouth to disagree, but Price holds up a hand to silence you before continuing.
"This mission required someone who can move quick and clean out a building fast. I've never seen someone able to clear out a building like Soap can. And he can do that regardless on if it's stealth or chaos. But when he doesn't know what to do, he slows down. You can think quick under pressure. No matter how stressful things get, you always deliver. You always know how to continue the mission. That combination of skill was perfect for this mission."
You look away from the Captain, not wanting to believe him, but the mission today proved how right Price was. It may have taken a life or death situation, but you and Soap worked together for the first time today, and it was rather incredible. Even you were shocked at how well and quick you moved together, even with a few hiccups. If you just didn't hate each other that combination could be practiced and refined even more.
"But he hates me, Price."
"I don't think he does." Price counters, but you don't believe him. Just like how he said Soap would warm up to you.
"He absolutely does."
"Well the mission was more than less a success. Seems like you've at least had a break through."
You laugh at that, though you can't blame Price for that assumption. You also thought so until Soap reverted back to being a dick.
"Respectfully, Captain, I think you're wrong. Nothing has changed. And I don't know if it ever will."
Before your conversation can continue, the sound of the second helicopter flying in draws your attention to the sky. Soap was on that helo. Unless you'd miraculously gotten your wish, and he'd fallen out on the way over.
Doubtful.
"That's my cue to head out, Cap. I'll see you at the debrief." You tell him, getting a nod from your Captain. You give his arm a pat as you pass by him, catching his parting words.
"You better be heading to the showers! You show up to debrief smelling like shit, and I'll have you cleaning bathrooms for a week!"
***
Soap is both relieved to be back on base as well as dreading it. Relieved because this is his home, a place where he is safe and can rest, and dreading it because the biggest thorn in his side was also here. Where, he wasn't sure, but she was here.
He was currently giving Ghost the silent treatment, childish as it may be. Though he hadn't really gotten the chance to ignore him either. Ghost was fairly silent on the trip back to base, though Soap should have known better than to think he'd be super talkative. Maybe the things Ghost said earlier was just a way to shut him up so he could enjoy a peaceful ride back, but Soap knew Ghost would never lie to him either.
Soap really just wanted to be alone for a bit. Take a nice hot shower to clear his head, maybe get something to eat. He still had the mission debrief he needed to go to later, and he knew he'd run into States there. So really all he needed to do was survive another few hours in her presence and then he can be free of her for a little bit.
As he jumps off the helo, he's already looking around for Price. If he wasn't off on a mission himself or too busy there was usually a 50/50 chance he'd be there post mission. And sure enough, it doesn't take Soap long to spot the Brit. Unfortunately, he really didn't feel up to talking. There was no way to avoid Price though. He stood right where Soap needed to go to leave.
He approaches his Captain, giving him a nod in greeting and hoping he could just slip by. "Captain." He mutters as he attempts to just walk past him.
"Got somewhere you need to be?" Price asks him, turning to look at Soap as he stops by the ramp that leads down to the ground.
"Just wanting to hit the showers." Soap grumbles, unable to keep his irritation from his voice.
Sensing the Sergeant was on edge, Price simply nods, allowing Soap to leave. "Just be on time for the mission debrief." He tells the solider. Soap gives a nod and is off. Price watches him leave, a frown pulling at his lips.
Ghost slowly makes his way over to Price, having watched the encounter between the Sergeant and the Captain. Price was still watching where Soap had just made his exit. "Was it really that bad?" He asks the Lieutenant.
Ghost's voice was steady, a hint of fatigue underlying his words. "It was pretty rough," he replied. "They're like oil and water. Fought the whole way. Thought they might've killed each other at one point—I guess States just got into some trouble. Not really sure."
He paused a moment before continuing. "When it got serious, they managed to get it done. First time I've ever really seen them do a half decent job together. It was still sloppy. States and Soap need to sort their shit out.”
Price lets out a long sigh. "Sucks that the only thing that makes them work together is when their life depends on it."
"I don't think today was a total failure for them." Ghost reassures Price. "At least we know when it matters they'll have each other's backs. They might just need more time."
"I've given them six months. I thought for sure Soap would come around by now."
"Just give them time, old man. Let things settle. I think Johnny'll come around yet."
***
The one thing you hated most about the base you currently resided on was that you were not given your own showers. Your room didn't even have a bathroom to get ready in. There was a communal bathroom in both the men's and women's barracks, equipped with toilets, sinks, and mirrors, but the shower house was a completely different building.
The men's and women's shower houses were separate but they were still right next to each other. The odd design choice could be explained by the fact that the base was older. Back in the day, they didn't have many females in the armed forces, so the shower house was only designed for one gender. When more and more women began to sign up, they simply just modified the current shower house instead of building a new one.
This design meant that the showers were always fairly crowded. And this was unfortunately the reality you faced as you approached the building. There was a line out the door for both the men's and women's section. Sighing, you had no choice but to join the back of the line. Not only were you desperate for a shower, but you also headed Price's warming that if you stank at the mission debrief, there'd be consequences. You really had no choice.
You'd only been waiting for about five minutes before the universe decided to bless you once again. Right as your line was beginning to move up, right as you thought you'd be able to make it into the shower house without running into your field mate, you hear his voice.
"Oh you are fucking with me." You hear him say as he realizes you were also in line. You turn to look towards Soap, watching as he stepped into the men's line, right alongside the women's. You scowl him, folding your arms across your chest as you look him over.
He was covered in a layer of dirt from the mission, and he stank. As you look at the items he was carrying, you can help but raise your brows in surprise.
"How the hell are you taking a shower with only body wash and a wash cloth?" You had a whole set of shampoo, conditioner, soap, face wash, body scrub, a razor, a loofa, deodorant, and a moisturizer. Given this wasn't your everyday routine. Just the one you did after missions to get the blood off you and help you destress. All he had though was a single tiny bottle of body wash. It wasn't even good body wash. It was the crappy stuff they issued to everyone in the military for free. 
Soap looks over the shower bag you carried, rolling his eyes as he viewed all the products you had with you. "This is more than enough to get clean. You don't need all that fancy shite." He claims. "This is the military, not a five star hotel or a spa."
"Just cause we're in the military doesn't mean we can't have good hygiene." You grumble back.
"My hygiene is fine."
"Says the man about to only wash his armpits."
"I can wash my whole body with this."
"What about your hair? Just cause you don't have a lot of it doesn't mean you shouldn't wash that too. Oh God..." you realize it then, your face scrunching up. "Please don't tell me you wash your hair with fucking body wash."
"It's an all-in-one wash, princess. It's meant to be used for everything." Soap growls out, getting annoyed very fast.
"Don't you dare call me, princess, John." You knew he hated it when you called him by his first name. But if he was going to be calling you names, then two could play at that game. And boy did he hate that. His face got red as he glared at you.
"Why don't you just worry about your own damn self?! Like figuring out what you're going to tell Price at the mission debrief when it comes up you almost fucked up our cover! Worry about not getting kicked off the team. Or don't, cause I'd love to watch your bonnie little ass walk off this base!" He snaps, his raised voice getting the attention of the officer standing guard near the front of the line at the shower house's entrance.
"Hey! Break it up!" He yells at you both. "If you're going to cause problems then you don't get to shower!"
You and Soap both clench your jaws, glaring daggers at each other and throwing silent threats back and forth with your eyes. "See you at the debrief, States." Soap whispers lowly before turning his gaze forward.
"Get some damn shampoo." You whisper back, mirroring his action and also looking forward.
***
You can't say that taking a shower made you feel much better. You blamed that on Soap. Maybe the shower would have been a lot better had it not been for his awful company.
Now you found yourself standing outside of the debrief room. Normally you weren't too nervous about post mission debriefs, but this one felt different. Soap was in your head, and you worried you really had messed up.
Off in your own little world, staring at the door, you jump hearing a voice.
"You having a staring contest with that door? I hate it say it, but I think it's probably gonna win." It was Gaz. You're not sure how long he'd been standing there. His warm chocolate eyes met yours, and they go from amused to slightly concerned.
"You alright, States?" He asks softly, and you give him a smile.
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just been a long day." You reassure him, finally grabbed the door handle and pushing it open, not giving him a chance to ask anything further.
"Just take it easy, yeah? We've all had tough missions." He smiles, giving your back a gentle pat before taking a seat.
Soap was already inside, chatting away with Ghost. They were sitting next to each other, while Price was standing in the front with Kate Laswell on a screen. Normally she joined you this way. It was rare she was ever in the area to be in-person.
Gaz takes a seat across from Ghost, leaving you to sit across from Soap. It was a rather large table, so there was a sizable distance between you. That doesn't keep Soap from eyeing you as you take a seat though.
"What?" You inquire defensively when he won't stop.
"Oh, nothing. Just want to make sure my poor hygiene isn't bothering your sensitive nose." He throws back, getting an elbow to the ribs from Ghost. A warning.
"Alright," Price says, making everyone in the room turn their focus to him. He was looking right at you and Soap. "Now that everyone is here, let's get started. Let's try to stay on task too, yeah?"
A mixture of "yes sir" or "aye sir" filled the room, and the debrief started.
It began as all debriefs did, with an overview of the mission objectives. Then discussion began on if each one was met. This part of the debrief had actually gone fairly smoothly. All main objectives had been met in one way or another. It wasn't until you got to the part where you'd needed to deviate from the plan that it started going south.
"So as we all know," Price began. "A Russian convoy began to approach the base within 0800. This resulted in our Bravo team having to stray from our original plan."
"Thanks to States, we got back on track quickly." Ghost fills in. "It was her idea to have Alpha team move in so her and Soap could infiltrate the West building."
Price nods towards you. "Good call on that, States. Your plan worked well."
That brings a smile to your face for a moment until you hear Soap huff a little and mutter, "give me a break," under his breath. You turn your gaze to him, jaw tight. He's sitting slouched in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and still looking towards.
"As solid a plan as it was though, it seems it took Bravo team a long time to reach the West building. Who's to say a back up plan would have been needed if this objective was met sooner." Laswell adds. "It looks like comms went silent for a while. Soap care to weight on what happened during that time?"
Soap was smiling, but he just shakes his head. "Nah, States can probably fill you in better since it was her doing." He says, making you glare harshly at him.
"Laswell asked-" Price starts, but is cut off by you.
"There was a group of four men, and I wanted to take them out so we could continue on the faster route to the building. Soap didn't want to be a team player and wouldn't help me." You start in, making Soap instantly glare at you for, what he believed to be, twisting the story.
"Don't you dare twist this like it was my fault!" He exclaims, before looking back to Price and continuing. "I said it was too risky and opted to go around. But she just had to prove a point and went in to take on four men all by herself!" He points a finger at you.
"It wasn't too risky! You just didn't want to do it cause it was my idea!"
"Who the fuck cares!? You don't do that and put your partner and the entire mission at risk!"
"It was fine! I took out three and you got the last one! Nothing bad happened!"
"Yeah, I took him out right as he was about to call for back up! It's a bloody good thing I got there in time! And just cause nothing bad happened doesn't mean-"
"Enough! Stop!" Price yells. "You were asked a bloody question, fucking answer it and stop addressing each other!" He growls before repeating Laswell's question. "Now, why didn't you make it to your objective in a timely manner?"
"Cause States got a big ego and took on four men herself, and we had to take time to clean up the mess." Soap answers, making you slam a fist to the table.
"That took thirty seconds at most! We were late cause Soap had to lecture me for five minutes about it!" You counter.
"Cause you almost bloody got us killed!" Soap shouts back.
"You're being so fucking dramatic, MacTavish!"
"ENOUGH!!" Price yells, slamming both fists to the table. "Bloody hell! This," he motions between you and Soap. "I've had enough of this! The bickering, the glaring, the dirty looks. I've had enough!" He berated you.
"You two are going to like each other, or at the very least tolerate each other. Pack your shit tonight. I'm sending you both away for team bonding. One week. You two, by yourselves, in the middle of fucking nowhere."
Soap's jaw clenched as Captain Price's words echoed around the debriefing room. His blue eyes narrowed at you before looking back to Price. He didn't want this anymore than you did.
"Sir, with all due respect..." he began, managing to keep his voice steady despite the absolute shitstorm brewing inside of him. But Price raised a hand, cutting him off.
"No, Soap. This is final. I don't want to hear another word."
Soap was furious A week. A week in the middle of nowhere with you. The thought alone was enough to make him want to throw something.
His fists clenched as he glared at the women across from him. This was your fault. All of it. He felt the anger rise up in him as he met your eyes and held your gaze.
"Hope you're fucking happy," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
You growl at him, about to make a nasty retort, but Price stops you.
"No! No more fighting on this base. One of you opens your mouth again, and I'm making it two weeks." He threatens, making you swallow the words you had for Soap.
"Price..." You address carefully. "I don't see how-"
"Is that 2 weeks I'm hearing, States?" He raises his voice again, showing how serious he was. It makes you clamp your mouth shut.
"No sir." You answers shortly.
"Good. You two are dismissed. Pack. You're leaving at 0400 hours." When you and Soap didn't make a move to get up, Price reiterated. "Right now! Go!"
Nothing more was said. You and Soap both got up and went to the door. Even in the hallway as you both headed towards the barracks, Soap didn't say a word, and you weren't about to break the silence either. You could practically feel the anger radiating off him though.
A whole fucking week together. This was going to be hell.
You parted ways shortly after, Soap's pace a lot faster than yours. You did see him make the turn for his barracks though before you went to yours.
***
Soap entered his room and slammed the door, his hand scraped over his stubble, frustration gnawing at his insides. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his whirring mind. The thought of being stuck with you for an entire week was enough to make his blood boil.
"Calm down, MacTavish," he muttered to himself, his Scottish accent thick with irritation. "You've survived worse." He tries to tell himself, though a week with you seemed like hell to him.
He growls and kicks his dresser. This was all your fault. He'd been looking forward to his next mission without you, or maybe even a little time off. But no. He got to spend a week alone with you.
All he could hope was that you'd make it through the week without killing each other. Shaking his head, he starts to pack furiously.
This was going to be a long week...
***
When you got to your barracks, you leaned back against the door and buried your face in your hands. You tried to come to terms with the fact that you were about to spend a week with Soap MacTavish. Alone. In the middle of nowhere.
This was your nightmare.
You stayed where you were a good five minutes while you let yourself calm down. Your heart was hammering in your chest.
"A week could go by fast though, right? You didn't even need to speak to him during those seven days... you can do this..." You mutter to yourself, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it true.
Sighing softly, you start to pack, pulling out your military duffle bag from under your bed. Despite you trying to convince yourself otherwise, you knew deep down this was going to be a long week.
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all-wrung-out · 3 days
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Whumpblr Intro
Hey! I've gone far too long without actually making an intro, despite having this side blog up for a bit. So here we go!
I go by Tac when I'm interacting online (my main blog is calligraphic-tac, and that's my chaos-corner where I try to post things I like, things that inspire me, and my more general writing, when I can actually get words out). Pronouns are she/her, although they/them are good backups.
I've been into whump for as long as I can remember, but in my 33 years on the planet, I only learned last year that there's a whole community for it. I'd heard the term "whump" before, and kind of knew what it was, but never made the connection to the type of media I like.
There are some whump tropes that I'll always enjoy, but the favorite flavor of the week is usually on rotation from the following list:
Superhero whump
Kidnapping
Defiant/Stoic/Strong/Snarky Whumpees
Self-sacrificial Whumpee
Whumpers who feign rage, but are actually very calculated and careful in their treatment of Whumpee
Whumpers who actually lose their temper, especially when triggered by a defiant whumpee
Team whump
Non-human Whumpee (especially when it pertains to the good, old-fashioned "what makes us human" trope)
Drug/poison whump (Fucked up balance and altered perception, anyone?)
Medical whump (specifically, medical treatment, but "This is gonna hurt.")
The good, old-fashioned Beating trope
Pinned/Trapped
Drowning/asphyxiation
Environmental/Wilderness whump (extreme temperatures and survival)
Animal attacks
Used as bait
Infected wounds (especially when it comes to treatment of said wounds)
Self-surgery or self-care
Mind control (Specifically, conflict between Whumper/Whumpee within Whumpee's mind while Whumper tries to take control. OH! And Whumper causing Whumpee to experience things that didn't happen; I have a really neat story idea for this one!)
I'm sure I'm missing some, but I suppose I can amend this post when I remember some more. Some of my whump tastes are also kind of specific, so listing them concisely can be a challenge.
Not going to list my squicks here. (As the saying goes: "If you don't want someone to get your goat, don't let them know where it's tied.") However, if you're looking for NSFW-type whump, I don't typically write that. (Not for other folks, anyway; I'm rather terrible at it.)
I used to write a lot as a kid, but was often ashamed of my affinity for whump, so any time I tried to write it, I chickened out and wrote something else. I still wrote plenty of action and peril, but the whump was usually not as heavy as I initially imagined.
I've also been in a bit of a writing slump for... oh, goodness... It's going on 14 years now. I really want to get out of it, so I'm hoping whump writing will help.
Fun fact about me: A lot of my stories are grown from a kernel of whump. I think of a specific scenario I want to put an OC through, and then a whole story grows out of it.
Some of my favorite whump blogs include: @whump-me @whumperofworlds @allthewhumpygoodness @emmithar-blog @soheavyaburden @whumperfultime @roblingoblin285 @blackrosesandwhump @evilwriter-originals I'm still collecting whump blogs to follow, so feel free to interact if you're one such blog!
Also, I'm going to be rusty as hell, so please bear with me while I get my writing brain reinstalled in the ol' skull-housing.
Last thing (I know this post is long already): I've seen the way the whump community interacts and I'm happy to be a part of it. I'm not especially social myself, but I'm nonetheless proud to be part of such an amazing group of folks. Keep rockin', y'all!
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foxufortunes · 1 day
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So like I was actually having this discussion in the comments of one of my fics at stupid in the morning, but like having thought it through for the day I'm here to messily rant my thoughts on the complicated relationship between the upperclassmen, mainly Dan, and the monsters, mainly Andrew, and Wymack. How Dan is terribly self righteous and hypocritical and lets her emotions get in the way of her captaincy at times. How Andrew doesn't care for the discomfort and fear he causes others and even revels in it, even without provocation. And how Wymack, for better or for worse, is a hands off coach who can't/won't inflict meaningful punishments on his team, even enabling their worst qualities and habits, as part of his ideal of giving people more chances and how that can create a hostile team environment.
Aka, I'm about to throw slander in every direction, because these are flawed, messy characters and trying to make any of them perfectly innocent or always right does a disservice to the well sketched, messy, imperfect, flawed characters Nora created. Blame goes everywhere and no one is innocent. Trauma is a reason, not an excuse.
Buckle up, guys, this is about to get long and messy.
So, let's start with Wymack, who's a bit trickier to explain than Dan and Andrew, but is also the reason they've been brought togethers. Wymack, as we see him on page, is a massively hands off coach, especially when you compare him to Coach Rhemann. Now, it's very possible that this is actually because Nora either wasn't confident/good enough to write him coaching vs where she is now ten years later, or because she didn't want to focus there (although logically for exy junkie Neil's pov that would be weird, but whatever, that's not what we're talking about) but whatever the reason out of universe, it leaves us with Wymack as hands off as possible in universe. (Also, sidebar, some people in this fandom need to learn that out of universe reasons still need to have an in universe reason, "it needed to happen for the plot" is an out of universe reason, but I still need to know why the characters did it beyond "for the plot" or it's bad writing, stop using that for an answer about "why did character X do Y?")
Anyway, Wymack lets the team basically run amuck and sort themselves out, and even enables their worst habits. I think its canon that Abby gets a tip when "random" drug tests are happening, and they certainly don't do anything to enforce the no drugs policies the school and NCAA and probably ERC would have. Wymack brought a bunch of troubled kids together and seems to have no plan beyond letting themselves work it out and Betsy's here if there's trouble. This is why the Matt situation happens. You let a struggling to stay sober drug addict be around other not even trying drug addicts, of course Matt was going to get worse. This is actively bad for him. And in turn then actively bad for Aaron.
His relationship with Andrew is a bit more complicated. Now, I need you to forget everything you know about Andrew through Neil and his backstory for a moment, and just look at Andrew through Wymack's eyes as he first met him. Andrew has been to juvie, and is currently on parole for another violent crime that Wymack may or may not know the actual details about and on medication that Wymack may or may not know what they actually are and do. Andrew asks to come off of them. Wymack says yes. Now, even putting aside the legality of this, Wymack took the unilateral decision that Andrew knows best about his meds and can come off of them. Now, we can talk plenty about how Andrew's medication is portrayed in canon, but plenty of people don't like meds that are actually good for them and try/do stop taking them, often without telling a doctor they're doing so. There's also the fact that, again irrelevant of what we know as the story goes, Andrew regularly drinks, smokes and misses doses, things that can all make medication not work as it should. Wymack is not a doctor, for all he knows he could actively making Andrew worse by allowing this, but does anyway, for a good defence line.
(Also another side note, where does canon get off calling the Foxes a laughing stock? They're five years old. Seth was part of the first batch, right? So they're five years old and made the championships in their fourth year of existing as a team, fuck off are they dead last laughing stocks.)
And this is part of what I don't get about Wymack. He both wants to win above what's good for his team and doesn't at the same time. For example, he's so hands off and enables their bad habits, things that could kill them and actively harm them. He puts Andrew on the bench because he doesn't need a third goalie despite him being better and seemingly rolls with the hierarchy of age over skill, which implies team feel goods over victory but is so invested in staying Class I he semi-regularly lets (and yeah, it's lets not makes but still) Andrew harm himself playing full games on withdrawals (again, as far as he knows potentially stopping his meds working right). And while it could be argued his situation with Andrew is more not wanting to give up on Andrew, that is an the expense of his other players. Anyone who's ever been in a situation where one or two people are hostile/seemingly unpunishable knows how bad that makes everyone else feel.
Because, let's be real, Andrew is unpunishable and they all know it. Cardio is one thing, but he doesn't go through with marathons and nothing else will work. Andrew doesn't care for his own contract, and even if we actually believed Wymack would go through with any threat again Kevin, Nicky or Aaron's contracts (and we all know he wouldn't) Andrew would probably sabotage the game in protest or just outright quit. Andrew gets away with everything and everyone knows it and that can quickly see your team stop respecting/trusting you or feeling safe when you say they are. It's a very dangerous line.
And this is where we finally get to Dan. Because yes, Dan hates Andrew, and is unprofessional in her bias against him. But I think we often forget where this comes from. You often see people talk about Columbia, and Andrew drugging Neil, and should Neil have been angrier, how his trauma impacted him moving on so quickly and whether Andrew's reasons were valid or not because he thought Neil was a threat. And sometimes you see people talk about what he did "to" Matt. Which, yes, wasn't great, and yes, Matt took the drugs himself, but really it wasn't a great move from Andrew. But how often do you see people talk about what he did to Dan?
I mean, let's get some context here. Andrew and Dan barely knew each other. Dan is already getting shit from every angle for daring to be a woman playing and captaining an exy team (and if you hc her as a woman of colour, double this) in a period of time where colleges did (and still do) have a terrible reputation for covering up the horrific assaults committed by their best NCAA athletes. And Andrew, with no provocation, or reason, invites her out, to his home turf, with his family, to a bar he worked out, without anyone to support her and look after her, and drugged her. To find out if she was a women worth following. Not because she was a threat. Because he wanted to find out what type of person she was. He wanted her tragic backstory and he wanted it now (something people criticise Dan for demanding a lot, by the way). Andrew and his group show no remorse and face no real repercussions and then go on to enable Matt getting falling off the wagon and taking potentially lethal mix of drugs, because his mom said it was fine so it's ok and it all worked out, ends justify the means, and is allowed to just carry on with again, no meaningful punishment. Because no harm, no foul, right? (funny how you'll apply that to Andrew but hate when Thea said it, huh?)
Is it any wonder Dan doesn't like or trust Andrew?
And lets be clear, Andrew does nothing to discourage this. Andrew doesn't want to be understood, he doesn't want to share. Andrew is not here angsting because no one understands his attempts to making friends (except maybe, big maybe, Aaron not understanding his attempts at brothering). Andrew is fine if the team doesn't trust him. He encourages it, because trust means friends means feelings means weakness and that's ew. It's not hard to see how, from Dan's pov, Wymack can't/won't punish Andrew and is more interested in winning so won't kick him off the team.
At the same time, Dan is just as complicit in Andrew's breaking the law and hurting himself by missing meds as Wymack. Again, for all she knows, his meds help him, and skipping could actively harm the help they're giving him. Again, she's putting winning, because they have this amazing goalkeeper, above both Andrew and the team's health, and then complains when he lashes out. Some meds need a consistent balance to work, and maybe if he wasn't skipping every Friday to help you win he'd be more stable (we know this isn't the case, but they don't). There's barely any resistance put up to the idea that Andrew plays entire games, because she also wants to win more than she cares about Andrew's health, while at the same time not caring about winning more than her pride, like the rest of the team who are more interested in fighting than winning.
Now, of course, Andrew doesn't care. I think Nicky has it right early on when he says Andrew doesn't care about your boundaries, just his. Andrew is here mostly because he wants to keep Nicky and Aaron close and sees providing value for them (protection, scholarships, controlling protection ect) as the only way to really do it. Andrew sees life as exchanges. But, for all we act like Andrew lives on fair exchanges, he doesn't. As I said, he drugged Dan because he wanted to know about her, what did he give her in return? Nothing. He violated her autonomy and gave her nothing in return. Not even his own backstory. Arguably not even respect. (please, take a minute to imagine how pissed you would be if someone in fanfic wrote Andrew being drugged just to get him to spill his trauma without him even being a threat to anything, or look at how people react to Neil's Columbia scene).
The upperclassmen constantly ignore and violate Andrew's boundaries in very clear ways, and any normal team would have backed off ages ago (or called the cops the first time he pulled a knife) but because they're Foxes they keep pushing. (Also, for all fandom likes to make him a knife nut, look at how often he actually pulls a knife vs punches, it's either rape jokes, or him/someone under his protection being cornered, day to day he goes without). Now, of course, Andrew is a lot of the problem of keeping the team in two halves (again, something any decent coach shouldn't allow to get that extreme) as we see with how well the team works when Andrew is at Easthaven, but we don't know how much effort the upperclassmen actually make (excluding Renee of course).
The upperclassmen are often the first to lash out, and Andrew is often only retaliating, and then the monsters will be blamed. And yes, this is complete hypocrisy. But from the more general day to day treatment, not in the moment when a punch is thrown but attitudes in general, Andrew has proven himself a threat over and over, without provocation. If you can excuse Andrew drugging Neil because he's a potential threat, then why is Dan being hostile to Andrew because he's proven himself a threat different? Is it professional? Probably not, but what else can Dan do? She can't punish Andrew and Wymack seemingly can't/won't either. In Dan's mind, she is being hypervigilant and watching Andrew and taking his actions for the worst possible scenario, because Andrew has given her reason to. A simple drink to get to know each other turned into drugging her and Matt being in awful condition. Why should she give him the benefit of the doubt? Andrew wouldn't return the favour.
In many ways, Andrew and Dan are mirrors of each other. The leaders of their respective groups, both constantly trying to watch out for threats, but while Dan sees the threat she's already experienced with Andrew, Andrew considers her nothing. He's already got all her secrets and cast her aside, not caring for the damage he's done, because she and her friends are nothing to, and he doesn't feel a hint of remorse. He did what he had to, the ends justify the means, and Wymack's gone through too much to get him to risk losing him. He's on a team that doesn't care about his boundaries any more than he cares about theirs and is more than happy to play the monster if it gets the job done.
This came off a little harsh on Andrew, despite that I love him and Dan actually grates on me, but honestly the start of the series he is kind of awful and Dan I can see where she's coming from. Like, I think sometimes we also forget even Neil hates Andrew at the start of the series. Everything he did with Neil, he did with the others, it's just that Neil had the persistence, and the trauma related need to compartmentalise and move on quickly rather than hold a grudge, and a usefulness to Andrew (and yeah, let's not forget the breakthrough is Kathy's show and Andrew realising Neil is useful to him) to let him get in with Andrew so he can start to see the real him, while Andrew keeps the upperclassmen at arm's length.
And wow, congrats and thanks to anyone who read all the way through this monster ramble.
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ladyluscinia · 1 day
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Ok so I was talking to @brigdh in this post about how Lily being a secret affair Zweig baby doesn't really compel me due to reasons BUT I do think rolling around the timeline more has given me an even better idea of how all the pieces can fit together so. Thoughts.
The Facts: In 2011 Atlanta (mid-late July) Tashi and Art are engaged with an unconfirmed length of time until the wedding (but the US Open Series is 7 weeks so certainly late-September is the earliest calendar availability), Art is on a winning streak toward the US Open that he will fail at some point after this, and Tashi and Patrick hook up (not realizing Art sees them together for a moment before they vanish). Lily is an unconfirmed age but can't have been conceived more than a few months out from this point, since if Tashi got pregnant in Atlanta that would put Lily a few months past 7 at New Rochelle.
Now, the timing here is a bit odd for several reasons. Tashi strikes me as pretty neutral on motherhood in her 20s/early 30s era. Like if she really didn't want a kid she wouldn't have one. She's not a bad mom. But at the same time she does have her mom in their entourage to do most of the childcare and is actively fuming about her husband wanting to retire to spend time with his family, so, like, I think you can reason motherhood fulfillment wasn't an urgent need for her (especially since waiting until Art's sports career 30s retirement would have been fairly normal behavior? I could easily see her actively wanting a kid when it becomes less a "not now" and more "not ever" decision, too). Art clearly wanted a kid, and that's exactly the kind of thing that couples vaguely discuss before engagement to make sure they are compatible.
It's just that, well, trying for a kid during your engagement is odd. Accident baby is a possibility, but Tashi has lots of money, access to birth control, and a highly regimented health and nutrition team living in her family's pocket and probably designing their life health plan + daily medication and supplement intake like a normal person could never dream of. It can always happen but like. The odds. So I don't see her getting pregnant in Atlanta in the first place (and as previously mentioned don't find Lily being Patrick's narratively interesting enough to one-in-a-million the whole thing either 🤷‍♀️).
What does happen in Atlanta? Art's first mental wobble.
He doesn't win the 2011 US Open despite being the favorite to do so. Knowing Art and the whole Art/Tashi/Patrick mess he probably got into his head, slipped into a downward spiral, and imploded dramatically. Tashi would have complicated feelings about that but also, crucially, she did just cheat on him with Patrick and even though she doesn't think he knows... Maybe it's possible she feels a bit guilty for the cheating and a bit more guilty for the undeniable possibility that she somehow threw off Art's game due to vibes or a distracted coaching slip up or something. Maybe this is complicated by their upcoming wedding which was going to be a celebration and turns into a consolation prize, and how this kind of loss cannot be good for Art's inferiority complex about how she is really bad at reassuring him she does love him.
Maybe Tashi is lying in bed just before the wedding or on their honeymoon or even on their actual wedding night and she's been thinking about Patrick and Art and how to say I'm sorry and I still love you without acknowledging she did anything wrong for days, you know, and maybe she finally decides this is the best idea she's got.
And then maybe she turns to Art (silent in the dark) and says, unprompted, "Let's not wait. Let's have that baby now."
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snowed-leopard · 2 days
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TEAM BIRDTRESS 4/9: MEDIC!
(No archimedes’ we’re harmed in the making of this art!)
Medic: the bearded vulture. Okay I admit this one lives a little south of Germany but in my defense its traits fit medic so well I couldn’t resist. They’re one of the most likely vultures to actually hunt live prey, and also will drop them from great heights to stun them. They’re a white color initially (like a doctors coat anyone? Hello???) but will color themselves with red dust that looks stunningly like blood. They particularly like bones of animals the most and will drop them from great heights like their prey for the sake of their marrow, and the skills they have towards cracking them open takes years for chicks to master (he literally stole a man’s skeleton and medicine like that takes years to practice) also he’s a vulture and has all the premonitions of death and cleanliness that come with? Like helloooo so good. Yes he doesn’t have a tail visible from here but I gave him cool ass bearded vulture eyes.
Sniper is next! And past him I don’t have a planned order so please do ask for who should follow. Pyro has a finished sketch, and I know what demo’s sketch will be though.
More musings under the cut! And sources Ofc :3
I think I’m really leveling up my feather rendering game during this whole thing at least, but my hands hurt like a motherfucker. Fuck you rain.
I’ll be honest I kind of knew immediately what medic would be, the range wasn’t quite right but I just couldn’t imagine medic as another vulture. Also, he doesn’t have a tail visible in this image, but assume it’s behind his coat, because I didn’t want to figure out the pov logistics, and coat logistics, of having it in the coat. As a reparation, he does have the cool red and blue bearded vulture eyes bc I love them. I really don’t have a lot of musings on him this time. I had a less dramatic pose before this with a similar comp but I decided I wanted to up the drama and sinister ness and so I went for the dramatic perspective version. Sorry archimedes I pro is medic won’t eat u tho still <3
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chukys-mouthguard · 3 hours
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The Hills
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Genre: angst, smut smut smut, fluff ending
Warnings: toxic relationship, fighting, sexual conduct, 18+ minors dni, Matthew loving praise and compliments
Featuring: matthew tkachuk x female reader
Summary: you and matt fight hard…but when the fighting is hard, the making up is so much harder ;)
Note: in honor of the panthers win, i figured today would be the day i post this. Haven’t written smut in awhile so fingers crossed it’s not awful
You ran your hand through your hair as you watched Matthew skate off the ice. He’d just gotten into a bench clearing brawl that resulted in him being ejected from the game. While him being a pest and occasionally fighting was part of his game you were used to, it didn’t mean you had to like it. And sure, you obviously come to games to support the team. But it sucks having to sit in the stands while your boyfriend is hitting the showers early. 
“Y/n, you okay?” 
You looked over at Sam Reinhart’s girlfriend, trying to muster up a smile but she could see right through you. “I just hate when he does this shit. Cause now I get to deal with him at home.” Once there was a stoppage in play you threw your bag over your shoulder and stood up, “I’m going down early.” The girls not blaming you, they knew your relationship with Matthew all too well by now and when you both were in your moods, it was best to let you be. 
Things with Matthew were great 60 percent of the time, 40 percent of the time you often wondered why the hell you two were together. You’d been together 3 years now and yet the fighting only seemed to get worse. But on the flip side, so did everything else. The sex, the romance, everything seemed heightened the longer you two stuck it out. 
Making your way down to the family area you knew you’d be waiting awhile, with Matthew only having been ejected in the second period. But you wanted to be by yourself, your frustration and anger not fair to take out on the girls who were trying to enjoy the rest of the game. You helped yourself to the complimentary drinks, though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea with you already being frustrated. Alcohol was just adding gasoline to the fire. 
buzz buzz
Picking up your phone you saw Matthew’s name flash across the screen, meaning he’d finished showering and getting any medical attention after his fight. 
“Where ya at?”
“Family area.”
Turning your attention back to the game being broadcast on the large tv’s in the area, you hadn’t noticed Matthew walking over to you. “Fucking 6 drinks? Jesus Christ, is the game that bad?” He chuckled as he grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. “Yeah, it fucking sucks when your boyfriend gets thrown out in the second period and I’m left watching anyone but him.” He rolled his eyes at you as he turned his attention to the screens. His fingers intertwining with yours as he stood with you for a bit, needing to leave in the last few minutes to be in the locker room with the boys for the post game talk from coach. 
He kissed your head before leaving, “maybe fix the attitude before I come back out huh? I’m not in the mood for the bullshit tonight.” You rolled your eyes as you flashed him a fake smile, the drinks hitting you all at once and you were also not in the mood, but you knew it was inevitable. The two of you already egging each other on. 
“Have a good night guys, see you Monday.” 
Matthew called to his teammates before meeting you at the end of the hall to head to the car. Your six drinks definitely had you a bit more than tipsy, and he could tell. Simply ignoring it as he took your hand in his, not wanting to start a fight at the rink in front of anyone. The walk to the car silent, but once the doors closed, he unloaded on you. 
“Are you fucking serious? Getting drunk, by yourself? In front of god knows who from the organization! Do you think? Sometimes I truly don’t get what goes through your head or convinces you to do this shit.” 
“You!” 
Without hesitation you spat back at him as you threw your bag into the backseat. Resting your head on your fist as you leaned against the window, not wanting to look at Matthew. 
“Me? I make you drink and make a fool of yourself? I’d love to know how the fuck I do that.” 
“Because I’m dating a guy who loves to start shit. To play dirty, take cheap shots, get in dumb ass fights for fun on the ice and he gets thrown out. I can never enjoy a game and cheer you on like all the other girls get to do.” 
His grip on the steering wheel tightening as he tried to bite his tongue. Knowing you were drunk made it hard to be truly angry with you, because you were spitting out harsh digs. But he knew this was coming from a place of hurt within you, and he knew to take some of it for what it was. 
The rest of the ride was silent, Matthew trying to cool off while you were trying to bite your tongue and not say another drunken fueled slew of harsh comments. 
As he pulled into the garage, he took the key from the ignition before looking at you frustrated. His voice coming out calm but stern as he spoke, letting you know he was upset and more importantly, he was hurt. 
“If you feel like you have no reason to be proud of me, or to cheer for me. Then, don’t fucking come! Stop coming to games. Stop wearing my jersey, or any of the custom game day shit I buy for you. Because if you’re not proud to be my girlfriend and support me, whether I’m scoring goals or getting in fights, then I don’t want you wearing any of that shit. Pretending like you support me when really you wish I was something else.” 
Before he could say anything else, you stormed off and into the house. Immediately heading to your closet in your bedroom and pulling out any of the gameday jackets and jerseys Matthew had ever gotten you. Matthew soon trailing after, only to find you halfway down the stairs with a handful of clothes. Taking them to the backyard and tossing them in the fire pit, Matthew sprinting after you to stop the drunken act from going any further. 
“You don’t want me to wear these? Fuck you! Then no one is ever gonna get to wear these again!” 
Luckily Matthew had gotten to you before you dared light the fire pit and send the clothes up in flames. You tried fighting him but his grip on your waist was too strong, pulling you away from the fire pit as you began to cry. 
The way Matthew held you could back you down from whatever cliff you were on. His embrace immediately relaxing your entire body as you cried in his arms. He just held you, not bothering to acknowledge what you were about to do in your drunken rage. Letting you have as long as you needed to calm down. 
“I hate you, so much. How could you say that you don’t want me to come?” He shushed you as he helped you back to your feet, leading you inside. “Y/n, you have no right to criticize the way I play this sport. You’re making it about you when you know this is how I play my game. I was brought here, because of how I play. I’m successful in this league, for how I play my game. And I know you don’t mean any of this shit you’re saying tonight. But I’m not going to forget it. That shit hurts feeling like my own girlfriend doesn’t even support me.” 
The tone of his voice immediately sobering you up. The last thing you ever wanted to do tonight was this, but once again, it was like the two of you fighting had become inevitable these days. You didn’t know what it was that made you two constantly get on one another’s nerves. It was like fighting had become your love language. Because the stronger the fight, the stronger you two made up. 
Matthew had left you in the kitchen as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom, then into your shared closet. Tossing his tie to the floor before discarding his suit jacket and dress shirt with a sigh. He’d be lying if he said he never questioned why you two constantly did this, the fighting like crazy. Spitting harsh things to one another before always making up in the end. There’s no way it was healthy, but he loved you more than anything, and the second he ever thought of just walking away, he’d immediately regret even thinking about it to begin with. 
He hadn’t even heard you enter the closet, slightly flinching as your arms snaked around his waist. Resting your head on his back as your hands ran up his stomach and over his chest.  Not sure if you should attempt to apologize or not, waiting for some type of reaction from him to be your sign. 
“Are you done?”
His tone a bit harsh as he relaxed more into your touch. “Matty I’m so fucking sorry. I, it’s not an excuse, I was drunk, and upset. But, you know I’m so fucking proud of you. I should have never said any of those things to you. Should never have even thought of burning those clothes. That all was so stupid.” 
He somewhat chuckled as he listened to you apologize, his mind not even focused on the last hours events, just focusing on getting past it all. 
He turned to face you, seeing you’d been crying downstairs, brushing you hair from your face before resting a hand on your cheek.
“We can’t keep doing this, fighting like crazy. Being so awful to one another just to turn around and say we didn’t mean it. There’s clearly something going on making us act this way. I don’t know if we get off on the fighting, but we can’t keep doing it. Especially after the shit you said tonight. You were ready to burn all of those clothes I’d gotten for you. I’ve never seen you like that. And that hurt.” 
Your gaze dropping to the floor as you felt embarrassed, ashamed even of getting so drunk and taking out your frustrations on Matthew. It was stupid to be mad at him for getting ejected, because you know this is how he plays. You’ve known him to be this way since you started dating, and to compare him to anyone else is unfair. 
“Baby I’m sorry. I’m so fucking proud of you. Every day, I’m proud of you. You fucking played in the playoffs last year with a broken sternum! While I found that hot as fuck that you fought through the pain, it did scare me at times. But you’re right, this is who you are. And I love that about you. I love seeing you slam guys to the ice, stick up for your teammates, and get to play the game you love as your job.” 
Your compliments always working wonders on Matt, and it wasn’t that they were disingenuous. It was the way you complimented him that just did something to him. Hearing you say how hot he looks when he’s in the middle of a scrum, or when he lays a big hit. He’d let you compliment him for hours. 
“Keep going.” He smirked down at you with a cocky grin, letting you know his anger was subsiding. His hands now moving to your waist, pulling you closer to him. 
“I mean, you did look pretty hot beating the shit out of that guy tonight. Your mouth guard hanging out of the side of your mouth as you took him to the ice.” Your fingers playing with the curls of hair on his chest as you bit your lip. 
“And don’t get me started with how sexy you looked sitting in the penalty box, legs spread apart as you caught your breath. I can’t tell you badly I wish I could’ve come in there and climbed right in your lap.” 
He moaned as your hand traveled down to the bulge that was growing in his dress pants. “Well, who says you can’t still have your chance to climb in my lap tonight?” 
Without warning he picked you up by your thighs, your legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed and letting you have your moment in his lap. “How’s that feel baby?” 
Grinding your hips so your ass painfully circled over his rock hard erection that was practically bursting through the seams of his dress pants. “Mmm, it’s amazing, but I think you might need to take those pants off. Feels like your zipper is about to pop.” 
Slowly climbing off of him, you took your place on your knees as his hands flew to the buckle of his belt. Getting it undone and off, making your job easier. Making sure to palm him through his pants on your way to the button and zipper. Pulling his pants and boxers down in one motion as his cock sprang out and slapped his stomach. The sight mouth watering for you and you couldn’t wait to have him. 
Matthew’s hands immediately grabbing fistfuls of your hair as he guided you down his length. Holding you as you deepthroated him. A low groan coming from his lips as his head fell back. 
“Fuck me, y/n. You’re such a good girl for me.” 
His words of encouragement going right to your core as you clenched your thighs, feeling your pussy pulse. As much as you wanted him to have his way with you, you knew that you needed to make up for the shit you pulled earlier. 
Your head now bobbing up and down on his length as his hips were thrusting to meet your mouth, the expletives pouring from his lips before he forced you down, taking all of him once again. 
“Jesus Christ baby, you’re such a good girl taking all of me in your mouth like that.” He pulled you from his length, pulling you to your feet as he stood up. Looking down at you with lust filled eyes before swapping your places. 
“Get these clothes off.” 
Matthew working on your bottoms as you handled your top half. By the look in his eyes you knew you were in for some serious teasing. His favorite way to get back at you for nights like tonight. 
He trailed kisses up your thighs before brushing his scruff over your core, causing your hips to buck against him. “Mmm, someone is needy tonight huh? Too bad you’re gonna have to be really patient.” 
You groaned as he kissed and touched everywhere except where you needed him. But you knew if you tried to lead him in that direction, he’d only do the opposite. 
Matthew loved how needy you’d get, seeing the want in your face as he teased you. His fingers lightly tracing your slit, feeling how wet you were for him. Taking his fingers to his mouth and tasting you. 
“Tell me what you want baby, I wanna hear you beg.” 
Where did you start? You wanted it all, and you wanted it now. Your brain couldn’t pick one thing, your thighs pressing together in need or some form of pressure at your core. 
Matthew pushed your thighs apart as he found his place between them. “I guess I get to pick huh? Make sure you tell me what feels good baby. You know I love hearing you.” He smirked before lowering himself down, hooking his arms around your thighs before his tongue traced up your slit.
“Fuck…oh my goddddd.” Your eyes rolling back as you arched your back. His touch feeling like fire as you tried your best to deepen the contact. Needing more. 
He smirked against you as he focused on your clit. His tongue lapping up your wetness as he quickly slipped two fingers inside. A gaps catching in your throat as you immediately began grinding with his rhythm. “Mmm, yes baby.” He felt himself getting harder by the second at you grinding against him while his fingers thrust in and out of you. His tongue not stopping as your hands burried in his curls. 
“Yes Matthew, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop. God you make me feel so good.” Your back arching even further off the bed as you felt your release close, moans and expletives continuing to pour from your lips. 
Picking up his pace as he felt you close, Matthew locked eyes with you. Lust filling his orbs as his fingers turned their efforts to your clit. The sensation too much as your hips bucked and legs began to shake, your breath short as you tried holding in your screams. 
“You think I can make you squirt for me tonight baby? Show me what a good job I’m doing?”
“God fuck, yes Matty. I wanna squirt for you so bad. Please!” 
Matthew quickly pressed his mouth back to your clit as his fingers thrust back inside you, riding you through this orgasm. Your entire body shaking as you kept your eyes locked with his, watching as you felt your release coming. Squirting all over him as his fingers never stopped. Draining you completely as you tried to catch your breath, his fingers now in his mouth as he tasted you. 
“Fuck you’re delicious baby. Now get back in my lap.” 
Sensing you were in a daze of lust and overstimulation, Matt picked you up, flipping you over and into his lap. Groaning at the feeling of your dripping pussy gliding along his length. 
The two of you taking a second to catch your breath before you lined his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding down to adjust to him as you both let out a moan, taking all of him inside. “Fuck baby, I don’t think I’m lasting long tonight. You’ve got me so close already. Fuck me and show me what a good girl you are.” 
And with that you pushed him back on the bed as you used his chest to support you, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock. His hands gripping your hips and slamming you down harder. He groans now deep as he could barely hold back, he thrusts sloppier as he reached his peak. 
“Matty, fuck me. I know you need it baby. I need it. Give it to me please. I love when you pound my pussy baby.” 
He pulled you down into his chest, wrapping his arms around you before he began to take over. Pounding your pussy as hard as he could, as fast as he could. Needing to give you what you needed, to get what he needed. Moans pouring from his lips as he held you tighter, your pussy dripping as you could barely breathe. 
“Where do you want it baby? I’m gonna cum.” 
“Anywhere, just give it to me please.” 
He delivers a few more hard sloppy thrusts before moving you off of him, “knees.” He instructs you to find your place on the floor as he stands above you, his wrist quickly jerking his length as his hips buck and a soft groan erupts from him. 
You’d taken his length in your mouth as he thrusted forward towards you. Taking all of him as he bucked his hips, emptying his release into your throat as you swallowed it all. “Fuck…me.” As you made sure you’d gotten every drop, you slowly pulled yourself from him. Matthew falling back onto the bed as he caught his breath. 
“You’re fucking amazing baby.” He helped you up and pulled you in for a kiss, giving you a little spank on your ass. 
“Now, go get all of those clothes out of the fire pit and then I’ll help you get cleaned up.” 
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ficsbyuzi · 1 day
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All the ways lead to you - part 3
Read Part 2
Characters - Aemond Targaryen and Inara Maegyr (OFC) in a modern AU.
Warnings - Slow burn. Mentions of alcohol and smoking. 
Summary - Inara tries to figure out how she feels about everything that happened on her first day at work.
Note - Flashback and internal monologues are in Italics.
Word count - 1593
"He is a man of few words. You'll get used to his personality once you start working with him," Margaery's voice cut through the hustle and bustle of the coffee house.
"He seems hard to impress," Inara shrugged, adding sweetener to her coffee.
"Well, he is a celebrity, a superstar here in Westeros. He meets and works with so many people every day. In his situation, anyone would act stoically while dealing with their staff."
Of course. He looks every bit of a superstar.
"His family descends from the ancient Targaryen royal line and still kind of owns this city."
Oh. Wow. Targaryens of Old Valyria.
Margaery chuckled, noticing Inara's eyebrows shoot up in astonishment and awe.
“Red Keep Production house and studios are half owned by them, so this show is his home production. Have you seen any of his work before?"
So he is The Boss.
“I should have done some homework before coming here." Smiling sheepishly, Inara made a mental note to watch some of Aemond's acting projects over the weekend.
They finished their coffee and she took her leave to attend her second orientation meeting with the on-set medical team. However, she had a hard time focusing on the presentations, her thoughts constantly drifting back to him. 
To the enigmatic Aemond Targaryen. 
Back home, she tried to immerse herself in her chores and her books, but thoughts of him clung to her like a shadow she couldn't shake off.
Although she was left feeling a bit intimidated by his presence, she couldn't help but replay her brief encounter with him in her mind.
His voice still thrummed through each fiber of her being, drowning her in a tantalizing warmth.
He was not around her anymore, yet she could still feel his gaze lingering on her, like an invisible caress.
There was something about him - both unnerving and exhilarating. Intimidating yet inviting. 
An inexplicable pull was drawing her to him. 
Maybe he has the same effect on everyone around him.
Maybe I am merely in awe of a celebrity. 
Yeah that's all it is. 
But since when have I started fangirling over movie or TV stars?
She rolled her eyes at her chattering mind and tried to clear her head by writing in her journal.
I had a good day today. The world of glamor and showbiz is a realm far beyond anything I've ever known. But I need to learn more about how to maintain a professional decorum. It is unlikely that I will ever have the chance to know someone like Aemond Targaryen on a deeper level.
Smiling, she stared at his name on the paper for a moment. Of all the words she had ever written, those were two she never thought she would find in her personal journal. Ignoring the flock of butterflies taking flight in her chest, she continued - 
I'm just an employee. A small cog in the grand machinery of his professional life. Why would he pay any attention to me?
She frowned at her own musings, closing her journal with a sigh. Glancing at her phone one last time, she noticed the emails from both teams in her inbox. Emails that were a reminder of her role as a professional. She was there to work and forge a path to a career she aspired for.
The sky thundered outside, the sound interrupting the chain of her thoughts, bringing her back to her reality once again. 
My first rain in King's Landing. 
As the clouds began to pour, sleep gently flickered her eyes closed. Her mind, hanging between wakefulness and the subliminal recalled a cherished memory from the past - her father telling her favorite bedtime story about a valiant Valyrian prince and his dragon, the largest in the world.
-
Two months ago.
"You need a drink," Criston Cole, Aemond’s best friend and his personal assistant, remarked pointing a finger at him as he entered his suave office. He dropped a file onto his cluttered desk, taking the chair across the table.
"It's ten in the morning," Aemond replied, sifting through the pile of documents scattered around, his frustration palpable.
"Your face says it's ten at night."
Aemond sighed deeply, rolling his eyes. Criston chuckled, pulling out a cigarette and offering it to him, who accepted reluctantly. Criston placed one between his teeth too, lighting the cigarettes for both. Taking a long drag, both men leaned back in their chairs.
"This project is vital. It has to work. We have it to get renewed for two more seasons," Aemond said, exhaling a thick plume of smoke through his nose.
"Everything will be alright."
"As long as my uncle sits on the board, nothing will be alright," Aemond muttered, his gaze drifting back to the mess on his desk.
"Why do you worry so much? Your mother and I are doing the best we can."
"That's not enough!” Aemond's voice rose as he slapped the table, causing a few papers to flutter. "Where's Aegon? Why isn't he in the office? I have rehearsals; I shouldn't be doing his work." He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up abruptly. "Call him right now!"
"Aemond, calm down," Criston said, his concern evident in his voice. 
"And this..this pile of papers - why is it on my desk?" Aemond swiped the files off his desk in a fit of rage. "Where are my scripts? Where is the report on the CGI budget?"
One of the folders slid to the edge of the table, its contents spilling out. A document with a photograph of a young woman caught Aemond's eye. Instinctively, he picked it up.
"Do I have to do the hiring too now?” His tone softened a notch as he examined the document - a resume, “Be an HR consultant too?" 
The name on the document read - Inara Maegyr. Bachelor of Medicine. Diploma in Makeup and Prosthetic arts.
"I brought that file. It's a list of shortlisted medicos," Criston explained, stretching out a hand to take it from Aemond, who was still engrossed in the document. "And it wasn't for you to check, anyway."
"Hire her." Aemond handed over the resume he was holding and tossed the rest of the folder aside.
"What? Hire who?" Criston asked, his face contorted in confusion as he took the document from Aemond, who was already lighting another cigarette. "There are interviews and proper processes to follow before the project goes on the floor. I can't just hire anyone..” He paused to check the name on the resume.
 “Inara Maegyr, what's with her?"
Aemond only exhaled curls of smoke in response.
"She seems... interesting," Criston said, raising an eyebrow at the document.
“Hire her, she looks..” Aemond fumbled, but quickly corrected the course, “I mean, she seems suitable for the job.” He flicked his cigarette into the ashtray, watching the embers fade.
“We don't want to lose a talented candidate, do we?” 
“Who's acting like an HR consultant now?” Criston teased him. 
-
Aemond was reclining on a couch in his opulent bedroom, an unbuttoned shirt draping over his frame, a cigarette poised between his fingers. Wisps of smoke swirled around him, as he was gazing up the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. 
Thoughts of her.
Her innocent smile. 
A smile that felt like a refreshing mist in the putridness of his life. A simple, unassuming gesture from her, yet it pierced through the shadows that often clouded his days. 
The way her stunning, fire-colored eyes lit up when she approached him with her sweet demeanor, stayed with him. 
Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, he ran a hand through his hair, as he recalled their brief interaction. A smile played on his lips, resurfacing the dimple on his cheek. 
Ever since he had read her resume, he had been curious about the woman behind those impressive credentials. He had been eagerly anticipating meeting her in person.
But upon finding her so close, his words scrambled out of nervousness, and he couldn't even make eye contact with her - an unusual experience for him. Typically, people went speechless in front of him, not the other way around. He couldn't afford to shatter his composed exterior. He couldn't allow her to expose a vulnerability that he rarely acknowledged. 
But now, he was certain that he had driven away the unstained, unadulterated warmth she emanated. Unintentionally, he had intimidated her. 
He wasn't accustomed to being caught off guard by such intense emotions for someone he had just met.
It had been years since anyone had stirred any feelings within him. 
Despite being surrounded by a bevy of attractive business women, actresses, and models at work, he had never felt this way about anyone else, the way he felt about - 
“Inara,” surprised by the unfamiliar sensation of her name on his lips, he realised he had never voiced her name before.
Curiously, he picked up his phone to google the meaning of her name.
A ray of light.
An image of a ray of light piercing through the window of a darkened room closed for too long, surfaced in his mind. 
Sky roared outside, pulling him back into his dimly lit room. The sound of heavy raindrops splattering and clattering against the sophisticated French windows lulled him to sleep.
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As he closed his eyes, a soothing petrichor filled his retiring senses, wrapping him in a blanket of tranquility.
The sweet, mellow scent brought back the memory of the moment when their eyes first met.
-x-
Taglist - @zenka69
Next part - soon :)
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Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 5)
Summary: Scott invites you round for a BBQ leading you to your first night at Chris' house
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: Fluff! Minor Angst! Mention of past toxic relationship! Mention of Vomit/Vomiting! Alcohol Consumption!
Rugby Explained
Dividers by Me!
Series Masterlist / Masterlist
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Chapter 5
Chris let out a loud grunt as Ari landed a hard tackle on him. He was holding a tackle bag which took most of the impact but Ari was a large man with a mean tackle. Despite being on a bye week this weekend, Coach Y/L/N was taking no chances, especially following the poor performance on Saturday. So the team was training as hard as they would be if they were playing this weekend.
Thankfully the funk Chris was in was well and truly over and he definitely had you to thank for that. His mind was clearer and everything felt sharper. Everything was going so smoothly it was like watching a symphony. Chris looked out at the team and saw a championship-winning team.
The best part was that Chris could look over at you and not be distracted. Well, that wasn’t completely true, he would look over at you and remember everything from last weekend. But it was the good kind of distracted, the kind that filled him with energy but didn’t leave him restless like it had before the weekend.
“Right break into your groups!” Coach Y/L/N shouted bringing an end to tackle practice.
Chris let out a sigh of relief as he dumped the tackle bag to the side. His hand running over his abs as he did so.
He caught Ari smirking over at him “Did I go too hard on you cap?” 
“Yeah don’t need to go 100% all the time” Chris complained as he picked up a ball ready for kicking practice.
“That was only 75” Ari winked as he sauntered off to go join the rest of the scrum players.
Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head as he walked in the opposite direction to start practising his kicking. 
He placed the tee down, and as he rested the ball on it he caught sight of you stood in the corner talking with Andy. Your gaze met his for a second and you sent him a subtle smirk before turning your attention back to Andy. 
Chris smiled to himself as he stood back up only to spot Johnny smirking over at him with a shit-eating grin on his face. Chris shot him a glare, while he knew now that Johnny was just trying to make Chris jealous he still didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.
Stretching out his shoulders and neck Chris lined up the kick. Tracing the route he wanted the ball to take with his eyes. It was a relatively easy angle to start with but still one that needed a bit of calculating. He took a deep breath before starting his run-up, his boot hit the ball with a satisfying thud and Chris watched as it easily sailed through the posts.
Chris did a couple more practice kicks before jogging over to go collect up the balls so he could carry on. As he did so he crossed paths with Johnny.
“I was surprised that you didn’t come out to celebrate with us on Saturday” Johnny smirked.
Chris shot him a look “I highly doubt that storm” 
“I’d never lie to you cap” Johnny gasped, placing a hand on his heart “but whatever you did clearly worked, or should I say whoever” 
Chris stopped in his tracks and spun around to face Johnny, his voice low and tone full of warning “We both know you know more than you’re letting on so let's drop this little act” Chris started “There’s a lot riding on us this season so if you breath a word of what you know”
Johnny held up his hands in surrender “My lips are sealed” he promised “I only interfered to help the team, we can’t have you in a funk because you’re pining over the medic” he added with his own accusatory look “We need you Evans, you’re the glue that holds us all together”
Chris studied him for a moment before nodding his head “Good” 
Johnny just laughed and shook his head as he turned to walk away muttering “oblivious idiot” as he went.
Chris furrowed his brow not understanding what Johnny meant by that. He chose not to dwell on it though and returned his attention back to practice.
Soon enough Coach called out to end practice “alright let’s call it a day, those who need it get yourself to injury clinic and Y/N will be taking attendance so don’t think about skipping because I will know” he said with a pointed look at a couple of players “the rest of you rest up, enjoy the afternoon off and don’t do anything stupid” 
The whole team hummed in response before dispersing. As he walked back to the changing rooms he considered asking if you had any lunch plans but he spotted you with your head buried in a clipboard so decided to save it for another time.
Once inside the changing room he grabbed his phone from his bag and dialled. His brother picked up after a couple of rings.
“Hey, what’s up?” Scott answered.
“Got the afternoon off, fancy grabbing some lunch?” Chris suggested.
“Yeah sounds good, usual place?”
“Yeah I’ll see you there, just gotta shower” 
“Yeah I don’t want your stank putting me off my burger”
Chris groans and rolls his eyes “Whatever, see you later” he said before hanging up.
Once he was showered and changed Chris grabbed his bag and left the training centre. It was only a short drive to the diner that Chris and Scott frequented and his brother was already sat waiting inside for him.
“I ordered you a triple bacon cheeseburger and milkshake” Scott smirked as Chris sat down.
Chris shot him a look to call him out on his bullshit.
“But they said no so you have a grilled chicken burger and salad” Scott continued dramatically rolling his eyes.
“Thank you, although that cheeseburger did sound nice” Chris sighed as he sat back in the booth.
Chris loved that he got to play rugby for his job and he’d happily do anything that meant he played as well as and as long as he could. But sometimes the diet got to him, the chefs at the club were good and could make it taste nice. But it wasn’t like a good greasy burger. 
“Well you are on a bye week so you could have one at our BBQ this weekend, Coach doesn’t have to know” Scott shrugged.
“True” Chris hummed “You still good getting the supplies? I can pay for them I just won’t have the time to go get them myself”
Scott nodded “All sorted, me and Steve made a list and we’re going to Costco on Friday” 
The food then arrived and both men tucked in. Chris didn’t realise how hungry he was until he took his first bite. He’d finished his meal before Scott had even gotten through half of his. Leading to Chris reaching over to steal a few fries.
Scott slapped his hand away after he stole his fifth fry “Order your own if you want fries” he scolded.
“I don’t want any” Chris retorted as he stole another.
Scott rolled his eyes before a mischievous smile tugged at his lips “Well at least you’re in a better mood this time, you were a miserable ass when I last saw you” Chris glanced over with a curious look “How is that whole forbidden fruit situation going? You looked pretty tense during the match but you seem better now… like you got some release?” Scott smirked.
Chris sighed knowing Scott wasn’t gonna let this drop. He was lucky that he got this far into lunch before it got brought up. He glanced around the diner making sure none of his team or anyone else who worked at the Bears decided to have lunch here.
He looked down at his empty plate “We came to some agreement” Chris answered quietly.
“An agreement” Scott echoed.
“Yeah” 
“What kind of agreement?”
“A mutually beneficial one”
“Is that all you gonna give me?” Scott pouted.
“Yep,” Chris grinned as he stole another fry, taking pleasure in his brother’s exasperated expression.
Chris wasn’t gonna go into any details though. It was his private life and he was gonna keep it exactly like that, private. Plus he was gonna keep the promise he made to you, Scott may know about this arrangement but he doesn’t need the details.
Scott rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders in disappointment. But almost as quickly his face lit up again, his attention on something behind Chris.
Chris looked over his shoulders, his attention also peaking when he spotted you walking into the diner, heading straight for the counter.
You seemed to feel the eyes on your back, Chris saw your shoulders tense before you quickly looked over your shoulder. There was a brief look of panic on your face until your eyes met his and your shoulders seemed to relax.
 You held up your hand to signal ‘one minute’ before turning your attention back to the counter. Chris furrows his brows since he hadn’t signalled for you to come over, but when Chris looked back over at Scott he saw his brother lowering his arm telling him it was Scott you had gestured to.
“What are you doing?” Chris hissed quietly.
“What I just wanna meet her” Scott grinned.
Chris groaned quietly as before he knew it you were walking over “Hey Evans, sticking to your diet I see” you smirked.
“As closely as I can” Chris grinned.
“Hi, I’m Scott by the way,” Scott said introducing himself, clearly not willing to wait for Chris to do so “Fancy joining us?”
“Ah no I’m good, got to get back to the clinic, just grabbing myself something to eat” you said gesturing over your shoulder with your thumb.
“Got a lot of players in?” Chris asked.
“No, thankfully most of the team are pretty fit, just some long-term injuries” you explained.
“Good” Chris smiled, nodding his head.
Silence then fell between the three of you, you were clearly about to make your excuse to leave when Scott spoke up.
“We were just talking about our BBQ tradition,” he said.
“Oh?” You questioned as Chris threw Scott a quizzical look.
“Yeah whenever the bears have their bye week we throw a BBQ since it's pretty rare that they have a weekend off” Scott explained.
“Even if it falls midwinter?” You asked.
“We draw straws to decide who has to do the grilling while the rest stay inside in the warmth” Chris answered making you chuckle.
“You should come” Scott said taking both you and Chris by surprise.
“Really? I wouldn’t want to intrude” you said shaking your head.
“You wouldn’t be” Chris said, quick to reassure you “but it’s up to you, don’t feel like you have to” 
“Will other players be there?” You asked nibbling your lower lip.
“They’re invited but they never turn up, most go home and visit family for the weekend” Chris explained.
“Right okay, cool yeah I’ll um check my diary but sounds fun” You nodded “I um better get back” 
“Yeah sure, I’ll text you the address” Chris smiled.
“Great I’ll see you at training tomorrow” you smiled back “And it was nice to meet you” you added glancing quickly at Scott.
“Great to meet you too,” Scott said with the widest grin.
You shoot Chris another smile before turning to leave, grabbing your food as you went. Chris watched you go until you were completely out of view. When he looked back over at his brother, he was still grinning like a madman.
“You’re welcome” Scott grinned.
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You frowned as you stared up at the house in front of you. This couldn’t be the right place. You checked the address Chris had given you and Google Maps which said this definitely was the right place. Had he given you the wrong address? If he had this was a brand new way to screw you over that was so elaborate you honestly couldn’t be too mad. 
This looked like a typical suburban Boston family home. Not the kind of house a single professional sportsman would own. Most of the players had swanky apartments in the city, the only time they bought houses was when they settled down. 
Wait. Had Chris settled down? Did he have a life partner and you were a piece on the side?
You shook your head. You were being ridiculous. You knew for a fact that wasn’t the case. Not just because he said he couldn’t juggle more than one woman, but because Tommi did an FBI-level deep dive on him and she would have said if he was or had been married. 
You checked the text one last time, double-checking the wording. He definitely said this was the address for his place, not his brother’s. When they invited you to a BBQ you assumed that they were throwing it at Scott’s place but that didn’t seem to be the case. 
You were just about to call Chris just to double-check you were in the right place when the front door opened and Scott poked his head out.
“Hey, what are you doing standing out here?” 
You breathed out a sigh of relief and shot him a smile “My friend called me” you lied as you walked up to the front door. 
Scott arched a sceptical brow but didn’t say anything “Well better late than never, can I get you a drink?” he asked as you stepped inside. 
“A beer would be great thank you” 
Scott nodded “Coming right up, everyone else is out back,” he said nodding in the direction of the backyard. 
You send him a grateful smile before making your way out to the backyard. There were probably only about 20-odd people here, many of which seemed to be Chris’ non-rugby friends. Speaking of the devil you spotted him standing by the grill, beer in one hand, spatula in the other. He shoots you a smile and nods in greeting when he spots you before returning his attention back to the grill. 
“Here you go,” Scott said as he appeared beside you and passed you your beer “no clue what you preferred so I hope it’s okay”
You accepted the beer happily and took a quick swig “It’s my favourite” you admitted.
A shit-eating grin grew on his face as he nodded “Well help yourself to as many as you like” he offered “Do you know many people here?” 
You scanned the group once more before shaking your head “Nope” 
That didn’t worry you though because it meant you didn’t have to worry about your arrangement with Chris becoming known within the Bears staff. Plus you were pretty good at making friends with strangers, so much so that Tommi said that you’ve never met a stranger. 
“Well those lot over there are Chris’ old teammates from when he was playing junior rugby,” Scott said pointing over to a group of lads who looked like rugby players but not as athletically fit “Those are old school friends of ours and those two are our sisters” Scott continued, going through everyone until everyone had been introduced, including Scott’s partner Steve who had joined the both of you
 “but don’t worry we’ll keep you company while Chris is in grillmaster mode” Steve reassured you. 
“Thank you I appreciate it, this will be a nice way to meet people in the area outside of work” You nodded. 
“Yep” Scott nodded “You never know you might meet your east coast best buddy” he added wiggling his eyebrows. 
“I already have by the sounds of it” You smirked as you took a sip of your beer.
Scott grinned “I like you, you better be sticking around”
You felt a lump form in your throat at the insinuation knowing it was highly unlikely but played it off with a casual shrug of your shoulders “We’ll see” you said your voice surprisingly hoarse giving you a good excuse to avoid any more talking by taking a good few glugs of your beer. 
For the next half an hour you hung out with Scott and Steve, easily chatting with them and anyone else who came over to join the conversation. Despite how easy you normally found it to make friends it felt even easier at this party. It felt like you’d known these people your whole life. They were so sweet and welcoming and it really said a lot about Chris if this was the company he kept. 
You were mid-conversation with one of Chris’ old school friends when you felt two hands being placed on your shoulders “I thought I’d find you here”
To your surprise when you looked over your shoulder you spotted Johnny stood there with a lopsided grin on his face “Johnny? What are you doing here?”
“I was invited obviously”
You rolled your eyes at him “Yeah but Chris told me all the other players never show up, they’re off visiting family for the weekend” you explained. 
“Usually I am, but my sister and her boyfriend are at some fancy conference so I’m stuck on my lonesome” Johnny sighed with a dramatic pout. 
“You poor soul” you responded sarcastically. 
“Yep it's been real hard, so I thought I’d come along to this since I gathered you’d probably be here alone and keep you company” he explained as he looped his arm around your shoulder and led you away. 
“Thank you, but I’m actually good,” you said before lowering your voice “Plus another stage in our plan isn’t needed”
Johnny shoots you a look that said ‘Do you think I’m stupid’ “I know that, I knew the plan worked the moment I saw Chris at training Monday morning” he said “But you’re good fun and I thought we had a good friendship here, please don’t tell me it was all in my head” he continued placing a hand over his heart. 
You chuckled “No you’re right, I’m sorry” you smiled at him “It is good to see you Johnny”
He shot you a boyish smirk “That’s what all the ladies say” he said earning a roll of the eyes from you “So how are things going with you and Evans, you don’t look particularly close”
You shrugged your shoulders “We’re keeping it casual, both on the same page about what we want, keeping it private” you explained with a pointed look, Johnny responded by pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key “So I’m just mingling like another friend would, plus he’s busy being the grillmaster”
Johnny nodded his head “Yeah you don’t wanna mess with or distract the grillmaster” he agreed. 
The two of you continued chatting for a while longer until it appeared that food was ready and people were making their way over to grab a plateful. It was then that Chris finally made his way over and you were surprised at the sudden flutter of excitement in your chest when he did so.
He gave you a warm smile as he approached “Glad to see you made it, hope Scott hasn’t been too irritating as company” he greeted.
“Nah not as bad as this guy at least” you gestured with your thumb over to Johnny who let out an insulted gasp. 
“Rude!”
Chris chuckled as he shook Johnny’s hand “Good to see you man, not seeing your sister this weekend?” he asked. 
“Nah got some big conference on biotech or whatever” Johnny said waving it off. 
“Well good to have ya, why don’t you grab something to eat, I promise not to tell coach” Chris promised.
Johnny smirked “Alright I get the hint, Storm dismissed” he saluted before stepping away. 
Once he was gone Chris shot you an apologetic look “Sorry, I know I said there wouldn't be anyone from the team here” he sighed as he leant down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. 
You waved him off “No, no it’s okay, I like Johnny he’s becoming a good friend” 
Chris arched a brow “Really? Don’t get me wrong I like the guy but he can be a bit much”
You nodded “Yeah he’s like a puppy, his heart is in the right place at least” you explained “Plus he already knows about us, if it was anyone else it would be more of an issue” 
Chris nodded his head in agreement “True, he’s a damned good winger too” he added making you snort with laughter. 
“You mean wingman” 
Chris shot you a grin “That too” he admitted “Now let’s get some food”
You followed him towards where all the food was served. You loaded your plate sending a knowing smirk to Chris when you saw him build a double cheeseburger. He responded by holding a finger to his lips and shushing you.
You laughed and once again looked around at the gorgeous house around you, still not quite believing that this was his house.
“So this is where you live” you commented as you both of you walked over to a table outside.
Chris arched a brow as he sat down “You sound surprised” 
“I am” you admitted “You’re breaking the mould of a single rugby player living his best bachelor life”
Chris’ brows pinched together “In what way?”
“Well every single player I’ve ever known has lived in swanky apartments, the only ones who have houses like this are ones who have already settled down” you explained gesturing around to the house.
Chris nodded slowly as he swallowed his mouthful of burger “Well this is pretty new” he admits “decided about a year ago I needed a change from that kinda lifestyle”
“What changed your mind? A girl?” You asked arching a brow.
Chris smirks “Why? Making sure they’re not in the picture” he asked.
You shook your head “Just curious” you said, even if you didn’t 100% believe it.
“No there wasn’t a girl, well… not that kinda girl anyway” Chris started, you tilted your head in confusion, curious as to what he meant “My sister has 3 kids, two boys and a girl and they’re amazing and I love spending time with them so I thought a more kid-friendly place would help” Chris explained “but the main reason was this guy” he added before whistling.
The dog you had seen running around the place and assumed was someone else’s came running over. It then sat obediently next to Chris waiting for a scrap of food.
“This is Dodger” Chris grinned as he passed Dodger a bite of burger.
“He’s very cute, how old is he?” You asked as you scratched Dodger behind the ear.
“Don’t know exactly, the rescue centre guessed he was about a year old, so he’s two maybe three now?” Chris explained with a shrug of his shoulders.
“You rescued him?” You asked surprised.
Chris nodded “The team helped out with this adoption drive and we instantly hit it off and I knew he was coming home with me” he smiled.
“That’s really sweet, what do you do when you have to go on the road?” You asked, rugby players were never away long for away matches, not like Hockey players but it was always a couple of days.
“My ma looks after him on away weekends, or Scott if she’s busy” Chris explained “I wish I could take him with me but I don’t think he’d like the crowds”
You nodded, watching as Chris smiled warmly down at Dodger. There was no doubt that Chris absolutely loved his dog and it made your heart do a little flutter. 
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The BBQ carried on into the evening, everyone making the most of the warm spring weather. Eventually, everyone began to make their way home, many of whom seemed to live nearby and left on foot,
For you however you needed to drive home, but you had drunk far too much to do so legally. You weren’t drunk, but definitely over the limit. You couldn’t rely on a lift from Johnny either as he had left a couple of hours prior after receiving a text from a lady friend. You couldn’t call your dad for a lift either because you really didn’t want to explain why you were at Chris’ house. 
You decided to just call an Uber and you’d come collect your car tomorrow. You were just pulling out your phone when Chris walked over to you. 
“Hey you alright?” he asked.
You smiled up at him and nodded your head “Yeah I just drank more than I should have so I’m ordering an Uber home”
Chris shook his head “Don’t waste money on that, just stay here tonight” he offered like it was obvious.
Your lips parted as you tried to come up with an excuse not to. You weren’t sure why you didn’t want to stay, you were sure another night with Chris would be plenty of fun. But you just didn’t want to tonight, there was a funny feeling in your gut. It wasn’t because of Chris, you knew that much, but you had no clue where it was coming from so playing it safe would probably be better. Plus there were still a few people here, you weren’t sure how you felt about them seeing you stay the night. 
Chris must have seen your hesitation as he held out his hand “You can stay as a friend if you want” he said quietly. 
You sighed softly “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a nuisance” 
Chris smiled and shook his head “Nah it’s fine, plenty of my buddies stay over, and it’s not like I don’t have the rooms to spare” he shrugged. 
“That’s great thank you” 
“No worries, let me just make sure everything is ready and you can head up if you want, a couple of us might stay up a little longer” Chris gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. 
You smirked slightly “One more drink won’t hurt now that I’m staying”
You went up to bed a couple hours later to the bedroom Chris said you could stay in, surprised to find he’d left out some spare toiletries and comfies to sleep in. You climbed into the bed and let out a small moan at how comfy it was, you were going to be dead to the world in no time.
At least you thought so.
You probably had only been asleep for an hour when you woke up with a start. A sudden and horrid wave of nausea crashed over you which made you bolt up out of bed and rush to the adjoining bathroom.
You sat yourself down by the toilet and waited for the vomit to actually come. It didn’t though it never did. Ever since what happened with Bryce there had been nights where out of nowhere you would wake up, heart pounding, sweating as a wave of nausea crashed over you. It wasn’t every night, it would go away long enough that you thought it would never happen again only for it to suddenly return. 
You had told Tommi about it and she made you take a pregnancy test just to make sure which thankfully came back negative. Plus you’d had your period since then so you were definitely reassured it wasn’t that. It just seemed like your body wanted to fuck you over. 
After about 15 minutes the wave passed enough that you didn’t feel like you were on the verge, but you still felt pretty weak like you’d just run a marathon. You slowly pushed yourself to stand and decided to head downstairs to grab some water. 
You tried to keep quiet as you searched for a glass, trying to ignore how your hand shook once you finally found one and filled it up. You took some shallow sips, glad to get rid of the stale taste in your mouth as you leant against the counter. 
You had drunk half the glass but still didn’t feel okay enough to head back up to bed. You had too much restless energy, you wouldn't be able to fall asleep even if you tried. So instead you decided to just walk around the bottom floor of the house. 
You were just walking around the living room, admiring all the different knick-knacks and family photos. Bryce had no family photos at his place, it almost made it look like he had no family at all, which maybe was his intention since he didn’t really get on well with his family. 
It was another way Chris was completely different to Bryce. You could tell Chris cared a lot about his family and others in his life, they were as much a part of his life as rugby was. He hadn’t lost sight of who he was before he became a professional sportsman. He was still pretty ordinary, someone who’d be very easy to love which terrified you. 
Falling in love was like presenting your unprotected heart on a platter and hoping they looked after it and most of the time they didn’t. That’s what happened with Bryce, you hadn’t been in love with him, but you had allowed yourself to catch feelings and he’d hurt you. You dread to think of the damage that would have been done if you had loved him. 
So you couldn’t catch feelings with Chris. It was sex and fun only. 
“Hey, you alright?” 
You nearly jumped out of your skin, you spun around to see a tired-looking Chris stood a few meters away from you. Despite having drunk nearly an entire glass of water, your mouth went suddenly dry as you took in his topless appearance, his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. 
“Uh-ih yeah” you coughed “Yeah, just woke up thirsty so was just grabbing a glass of water”
Chris nodded as he rubbed his eyes “Me too, want another?” he asked nodding to your now empty glass of water. 
“Yeah sure that would be great thanks” you said following him back into the kitchen. 
He took your glass from you, his fingers brushing against yours as he did so. You tried to ignore the tingling sensation that was left in his wake, flexing your fingers quickly. No feelings. You gripped the glass so tightly when he passed you it back that you worried you’d drop it so took a large gulp before setting it back down on the kitchen island. 
You watched as he grabbed his own glass, filled it and took a few deep sips. Silence fell between the two of you and the air suddenly felt charged as Chris’ eyes roamed your body up and down. You tried not to squirm under his gaze, the look in his eyes as heated as the feeling that was growing within you. 
“You look good in my tee” he commented. 
“Oh is this-” you started before shaking your head “Stupid question” you muttered, of course, this was his tee you were wearing. 
A smirk tugged at Chris’ lips as he placed his glass down and crossed the short distance between the two of you. You couldn’t help but bite your lower lip as he gazed down at you. 
“I didn’t thank you for coming earlier” he murmured. 
You hummed “Yeah, you’re pretty poor at hosting, no wonder the other guys don’t show up” You smirked, feeling more comfortable on this ground. Joking, having fun.
You expected Chris to snort and have some witty comeback but he just shrugged his shoulders casually “don’t care, there’s only one person that I did care about” 
“You didn’t invite me, Scott did” you pointed out. 
“Semantics” Chris hummed as he reached out to play with the bottom of his tee that you wore. 
“Chris I-” you started, not knowing where you were going with your sentence. 
Part of you felt like this was too intense for your arrangement, for your foolish little heart. But the other part of you was screaming for his touch, like every atom in your body was reaching out. 
“I need to kiss you” he interrupted “I couldn’t sleep knowing…” he continued before trailing off, his gaze falling from your face to the tee.
Your answer was past your lips before it even registered in your mind “Yes”
Chris instantly surged forward, his large hands cupping your jawline as he tilted your head back and kissed you deeply. You responded with your hands resting on his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath your touch as you slowly draped your arms around his shoulders. 
You were so lost in the kiss that you weren’t aware that he’d pick you up until you felt the cold bite of the kitchen island beneath you. Your legs parted and he moved to stand between them, his hands gripping your hip as your fingers ran up into his messy bedhead. 
He moaned as you tugged on his hair and he deepened the kiss much to your pleasure. Especially when his hands moved from your hips to your chest. He cupped your breasts and massaged them through the tee you wore, making you curse that the fabric was even there. 
It was when he tugged you closer and you felt how aroused he was and it was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. You blinked a couple of times as you pulled back, it wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying it, because you were, you really were. It just felt wrong for a second, maybe you still didn’t feel right after what happened upstairs.
“Hey, you okay?” Chris asked as he brushed some hair out of your face. 
“Uh-uh yeah I just-” you stuttered trying to find the reason why you didn’t want to continue “Yeah I’m just tired… sorry” you landed on.
Chris nodded “That’s okay, it is late you don’t need to apologise” he reassured you. 
“I just - but you-” 
“I’m fine” He interrupted you “I just wanted a moment alone with you and I got that”
You bit your lip as you felt your heart skip a little beat despite you telling it not to. But you couldn’t help but make another comparison, Bryce would have tried to convince you to carry on but Chris was just happy with what you were willing to give him. It was enough to make the funny feeling in your gut disappear. 
“C’mon let’s get you back to bed,” Chris said holding out his hands. 
You smiled softly and accepted his help down from the counter, he kept hold of one of your hands as he led you back upstairs to the guest bedroom. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head before wishing you a good night. 
When you crawled back into bed all the horrible feelings you had felt when you first woke up were completely gone. You were able to fall asleep almost immediately and it had nothing to do with the more intense smell of Chris on your tee.
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thegildedbee · 3 days
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Intuition/Manipulate: May 25 & 26 Prompts from @calaisreno
This latest chapter and the previous ones are here at ao3. ..............................................................................................................
John’s stress level has been steadily rising over the last fortnight, as he tries to keep tabs on Sherlock’s whereabouts and activities since he landed in the south of France, while he himself is at a distance, perched in the posh suburb of Neuilly-sur-Seine. Arrangements had been made for him to fill in for a doctor on short-term leave from the American Hospital in Paris, as a cover for the other work he’s doing at pulling together strategic resources and organizing logistics for the high-stakes events that will rapidly unfold as soon as Sherlock arrives.
The contrast between his leisurely strolls along the Seine and through the neighborhood’s wooded areas – and his visits to his favorite bakery on the Rue Voltaire – during the times he has neither a work shift or reconnaissance is one that troubles him, hearing as he has scattered fragments of intel that Sherlock had been badly injured after being caught out in drug trafficking circles in Marseilles. John is frustrated not to be in closer proximity to the immediate hazards facing Sherlock, but Mycroft had insisted that the international operatives he could tap were sufficient, while John would serve a much more important role as an invisible advance scout for Sherlock in Paris; John is less than impressed with Mycroft’s cross-collaborative alleged back-up so far. 
He is worried about what kind of shape Sherlock will be in by the time he makes it to Paris, and he’s desperate for better information about his status. The second year of laying waste to Moriarty’s network had been much more difficult than the first for Sherlock, and as John has shadowed him he’s seen the steep price he has been paying as the psychological and physical toll has become more intense. For some time now, the threat level Sherlock has been navigating is at a constant red alert, because he has been moving closer and closer to the center of Moriarty’s criminal empire.
As he nears  the hospital, John finishes the last bite of his coffee eclair with regret, reminding himself that if his shift in the emergency room is particularly onerous, he can always return to the bakery after work, since it has evening hours. The eclairs will likely have disappeared, but anything that remains can hardly be considered as second-best.
He places his belongings in his locker, thoroughly washes his hands, places his stethoscope around his neck, and makes his way to the center of the A&E, where the nurses are just finishing their change of shift handover. He stops to look over the whiteboard to get a quick overview of what is in store for him today, before getting his own staff updates.
He feels a light touch at his elbow, and turns to see who has joined him, and, yes, it’s who he expected – got it in one. For some reason his intuition about this member of the medical team sets off his spidey-sense, but he can’t find a reasonable explanation for why that might be. He’s somewhat embarrassed to think that it may be that, after all this time undercover, he’s beginning to get jumpy, likely overreacting for no good reason at all, on a hair-trigger. Perhaps it’s down to a sense that there is some form of manipulation going on, but again, how likely is it that it is anything more than the fact that her particularly determined flirtatiousness puts him on edge.
“Bonjour, Docteur Freeman,” the perky blonde nurse twinkles at him, looking up into his eyes, her smile somehow seductive and amused at the same time. “Comment allez-vous, aujourd'hui?”
John gives her a quick smile, saying “Tres bien, merci, Infirmière Morstan,” then forgets her an instant later, as he sees that the ambulance is pulling up to the entrance, and he moves quickly to assess whatever emergency has come their way.
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@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper
@helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk
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faeriekit · 9 months
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Health and Hybrids (XII)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here and this is part twelve.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts
Where we last left off... ??? ???? ...Itchy?? 👀
Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
…Danny still hates the container.
But really. This was how it was going to end all along.
He doesn’t like the container. But he mostly understands that it has a job and that job is to make the air inside this giant space ship more Air-Like so that his human lungs can absorb more air. He gets it. Even if the alien had to come back and explain it to him twice so that his brain could hold onto the information. Danny understands the container.
He just…
Danny is ill-formed and shallowly built and more a whisper than a body right now, because of. Because. Because of what they did.
And it hurt. What happened hurts now. It had hurt so badly. When Danny’s not real, it doesn’t hurt. His legs don’t hurt because they’re not real. His head doesn’t hurt because it’s not there. His belly doesn’t hurt because it’s imaginary. He’s not real. The pain can’t be real because he isn’t there to feel it.
…But if he ever wants to be real again….
The container looms.
…If Danny ever wants to be real again. This won’t be enough. Being a shadow of an idea of a dead teenager isn’t enough. If Danny is going to be real, to heal, this isn’t enough.
And he knows it isn’t. The burning proves it.
Danny runs his fingers around the rubber gasket of the container. Is it worth it? To face what happened to him? To understand how badly he was hurt? To remember the truth?
It doesn’t seem like it is. Danny wants to go back to his cot. He wants to hide under the thin sheet. He wants to make the room dark and hide in the corners and never be a person again.
But if Jazz was here…
If Jazz was here. She would want him to heal.
Danny doesn’t want to heal. He just wants to be better already. But Jazz would want him to heal. And Tucker. And Sam. And the ghosts who cheered him on, who fought for Danny until the last second.
Danny never sought death, but sometimes the green door pops into his visions in the dark of his bedroom and tries to coax him home.
…Danny clutches his rocket toy tight. He edges his way in.
The door of the chamber slams shut behind him.
It’s dark in here. Not too dark. Not completely. Just. Dark.
Danny takes a deep breath. He tries not to cry. He lays down on the bed in the container, and—
There’s a flush of light as his body tries to form. He’s not going to cry. He—
More light.
More pain.
More—
The memory of taking a blast straight to the face slams into Danny like cannonball.
And then he’s gone.
💚👻👽👻💚
“The patient, he— …in the hyperbaric chamber?! On his own?! How—“
“Showing symptoms of—vitals dropping—he—“
“—the—“
“—is on and on max capacity, we can’t go in and risk—“
“—fragile state—“
“Wait. Is that—“
“—Oh, Jesus fucking Christ—“
“…It’s moving.”
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almostdailytf2 · 2 months
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i need to see medic be more testy methinks
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parisoonic · 9 months
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When you and your pocket decie to spawncamp.
Two quick warm-up sketches mashed together and some colour slapped on them.
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