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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
rawme-price
rawme-price

Thinking of soap being a very affectionate drunk...

Yes, affectionate. This special forces demolitions soldier, a man feared for his skills, wants nothing more than to cuddle with you.

He'll crawl into your booth, climb over ghost if he has to, just to shove his face into your abdomen and mutter "ahm' in love wit' ye, hen. Did you know that?"

This is soaps fourth love confession this month, so you chuckle indulgently and pat his head.

You pointedly ignore the pitying looks your teammates give you, knowing of the crush you've had on Johnny since...well. since you met him.

You've long since learned to ignore that pang in your chest whenever the word "love" stumbles out of his drunken mouth. He never mentions it in the morning, probably doesn't remember, knowing him.

Recently, it hurts more. Hearing the words you only dream of, and knowing it means nothing. You start rejecting Johnny's offers to go out for drinks, finding whatever excuse you can.

You're trained to lie, to deceive, but johnny has always been smart.

So the next time you dismiss his offer, soap catches the door before you can close it. He looks genuinely, heartbreakingly, upset. "What's gotten into ye? Yer avoidin' me."

You pursr your lips, wishing johnny were anyone else. He knows how to read you too well to lie directly to his face. So you sigh and admit "...I don't like drinking with you, johnny."

"Why the hell not?" He shoots back, leaning fully into your doorway now, blocking escape.

"You...you keep confessing to me. Saying shit about how you love me." You whisper, refusing to look at him. "I know you don't, it's fine, but it...hurts to hear. I guess."

You wait for the awkward silence, for the rushed apologies and Johnny's cringing face. Instead, he makes a winded noise "....what? I've been doing what? Hen, I'm...I'm really sorry."

You force your expression into one of gentle indifference, reaching out to hold soaps bicep "It's fine, johnny, I get it–"

"No! No, hen, you don't." Soap cuts you off, sounding a bit panicked now "I'm sorry you thought I don't love you. I'm sorry you ever thought I didn't mean it."

"So you knew...?"

"No. I um– i actually planned to take ye to dinner tonight, but I did mean it. I really do love ye." Soap's hand trails up to your neck, and he leans in closer to press his forehead to yours. "We can still go to dinner, love."

"Yeah...yeah. that sounds nice." You reply, too caught up in the sudden swell of joy. Soap does love you. You spent all this time agonizing over it, and he's always loved you.

It feels...really nice, knowing that.

foaming at the mouth johnny is literally my favorite i love my big dumb buppy I need to stab him 47 times
pangur-and-grim
pangur-and-grim

I feel so insane about ai. I've had face-to-face conversations with people who use it for therapy, who use it to calculate the safety of pill interactions, who use it for all their emails and grant applications and legal documents and academic papers and finance sheets and for every single question they have about the world, and if you tell them about the ecological costs they just laugh and say "I guess I've used a lot of water." and I've been in multiple gatherings of 10+ people where I'm THE ONLY PERSON who doesn't use chatgpt. it's turning me into a ranting raving pariah, because how don't you people see??? why don't you understand??????? this bullshit didn't exist five years ago, you absolutely do not need it, and it is destroying everything

empress-ghoul
empress-ghoul

Ptolemaea; Golden Age I

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image
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f!reader x john price

cw: ddne, medical inaccuracies, kidnapping, dubcon/noncon, gore, cannibalism

“what fear a man like you brings upon a woman like me”

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Late autumn was the perfect time for hunting. The cold air brought the quiet you struggled to find in the warmer months. There wasn't much left in terms of game, but you weren't too worried about it. Even if something did come by, you didn't have much desire to kill. It was about the calm you found in being secluded in a tree stand, wrapped in thick layers and sipping on coffee from a thermos. Solitude. That was all you wanted these days.

Eventually, you ran out of coffee and lost interest in the book you brought out. The sun would set soon and you decided to get back to the little cabin you rented before it was too dark to find your way back.

As it turned out, you could get lost in broad daylight just as easy as darkness.

Keep reading

Oh my gods this was terrifying from beginning to end (in a good way) This was SOOOOO GOOD oml Evil John Price will we ever be free of you? (i hope not) “Yet it was hard not to pity who you ate” WHAT A LINE DROP
rawme-price

Anonymous asked:

Please write more featuring (the original stuffed cat) Mr Kitty. Simon deserves a raggidy old stuffed animal

rawme-price answered:

Omg Mr kitty🥺🥺

No one knows this, but Mr kitty used to be an actual cat. A stray that would come through simons back yard, with shabby grey fur and little white socks. Back when simon was still small enough for Mr Kitty to push him around.

Little four year old Simon loved Mr kitty, lying in the sun with him and eating tuna with him. He would spend hours outside silently waiting for Mr kitty, then squeal in delight when he showed up.

Of course, when Mr kitty had to “go on vacation” after eating something his Da left out. simon was inconsolable. He cried day and night even when his father yelled at him, then silently for weeks on end.

So his Ma found a little plushie at the bottom of a thrift bin and decided it was the perfect gift.

Thus, Mr kitty was reborn.

A small, bean-filled cat plushie. It followed simon everywhere. To school, to bed, to dinner. He would talk to Mr kitty all the time, would find comfort in him. When his parents didn’t love him, Mr kitty did. When simon woke up terrified, Mr kitty was there.

Even when simon got older, he held on to Mr Kitty. Full of embarrassment, he couldn’t let the small plush go. Now, it lives tucked in a shoebox under ghosts bed, only to be pulled out on really bad nights.

When he feels more simon than ghost, he holds Mr kitty to his chest and hums lowly, trying to mimic the deep rumbles of Mr kitty that soothed him so much as a child.

Simon loves soft fragile things idcidc thank you rommy for this food 🙏🙏
rawme-price

Anonymous asked:

Please write more featuring (the original stuffed cat) Mr Kitty. Simon deserves a raggidy old stuffed animal

rawme-price answered:

Omg Mr kitty🥺🥺

No one knows this, but Mr kitty used to be an actual cat. A stray that would come through simons back yard, with shabby grey fur and little white socks. Back when simon was still small enough for Mr Kitty to push him around.

Little four year old Simon loved Mr kitty, lying in the sun with him and eating tuna with him. He would spend hours outside silently waiting for Mr kitty, then squeal in delight when he showed up.

Of course, when Mr kitty had to “go on vacation” after eating something his Da left out. simon was inconsolable. He cried day and night even when his father yelled at him, then silently for weeks on end.

So his Ma found a little plushie at the bottom of a thrift bin and decided it was the perfect gift.

Thus, Mr kitty was reborn.

A small, bean-filled cat plushie. It followed simon everywhere. To school, to bed, to dinner. He would talk to Mr kitty all the time, would find comfort in him. When his parents didn’t love him, Mr kitty did. When simon woke up terrified, Mr kitty was there.

Even when simon got older, he held on to Mr Kitty. Full of embarrassment, he couldn’t let the small plush go. Now, it lives tucked in a shoebox under ghosts bed, only to be pulled out on really bad nights.

When he feels more simon than ghost, he holds Mr kitty to his chest and hums lowly, trying to mimic the deep rumbles of Mr kitty that soothed him so much as a child.

Simon loves soft fragile things idcidc thank you rommy for this food 🙏🙏