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gaysindistress · 2 months

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The two times Simon almost killed Price and the one time Price almost killed Simon

First off yall blew up this post and I’m actually speechless 🥺 I’ve also hit 1,000 followers (SKDJJWDJJEJW) and will be working on the surprise fic shortly. I was working on some birthday posts and wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly so might be a bit before it comes out.

Simon’s masterlist

1. When Simon was injured

Price called you to let you know that Simon was injured during an op and he would be fine but you should come get him from the base. Simon never lets you go to base and you knew if he was conscious, he would have an absolute fit and get a cab home. He’s a very private person and after what happened to his family, he’s not about to let you get anywhere close to work if he can help it.

You obviously know this but it’s Price who called you, not Simon. Price ends the call with ‘see ya soon, Mrs. Riley’ which simultaneously breaks your heart because you’re not his wife but also warms it. It also doesn’t give you a choice; you’ll be there whether you drive yourself or Price brings you.

The captain doesn’t tell anyone that you’re coming or who you are when you get there. He meets you at the entrance and escorts you in. Like a father might, he keeps you close to him as the two of you make your way across the base and to the clinic where Simon is resting. He wouldn’t let them send him off base to a hospital so they did what they could and he’s, of course, being difficult still.

The moment the others see you, their eyes widen because who is this? Why are you with Price? Why have they never seen you before? Are you his daughter? His niece? His controversially younger girlfriend? Who are you and why are you here of all places? You definitely scare the shit out of them let’s be real. You pull up looking like this and you’re with their captain.

You have an aura of unwavering confidence and a resting bitch face that rivals Ghost’s. They don’t get the chance to pester you because Price is quickly shoving you into the room where Ghost is at and giving them all the death stare.

Simon does a double take when he sees you with wide eyes but doesn’t make any other indication that he knows you. The poor nurse who’s filling out his release paperwork is petrified and he looks like he’s about to pass out. You narrow your eyes at Simon because clearly he’s been his usual asshole self and that’s why this nurse is about to pass out.

You give the nurse a small smile as you tell him your name and that you’re who’s going to be taking care of Simon. The man’s knees almost give out from relief and he word vomits all of the information you’ll need while handing you the paperwork in a shaking hand. You thank him and wait for him to leave before you finally look at Simon.

He’s got his mask on like you expected but you can still read his eyes. He’s pissed.

All you say is “You were shot.”

He nods once.

“I’m your emergency contact.”

He nods once again.

“You don’t get to be mad that I’m here. If anyone gets to be upset and act like a child, it’s me. I’m the one who had to find out from your captain that you got hurt so badly that you’re being put on temporary medical leave for 6 weeks.“

He doesn’t nod this time. He just stares. Eventually he sighs and looks at the ground.

“‘M sorry.”

You sigh as well and give him the hug he’s craving but won’t ask for. You press a kiss to the top of his masked head and rub his back.

“It’s alright, my love.” You murmur into his sweaty mask. “Let’s go home, yeah? The dogs have been driving me mental.”

Although it’s covered, you feel him smile. You feel it in the way his body relaxes under your touch and his arms tighten around your waist.

“Let’s go home.” He agrees.

The others are absolutely gobsmacked when they see you walk out with Ghost. He’s the same as he always is; guarded and on defense but there’s a softness in his eyes when he glances at you talking to Price. They have half a mind to ask about you but one sharp glance from Ghost keeps their mouth shut. Whoever you are, you’re the single most important person in the world to him and they’d be complete fools to even breath in your direction.

2. When Simon was home

Let’s just say that Simon was in a compromising position when Price called him to meet at the base in an hour.

Usually you’re the one in the restraints that are always on your bed butttttt you managed to convince him to switch places. Tonight he’s bound by the leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles. His eyes are squeezed shut and his head is buried into the pillow behind him. You’ve been teasing and edging this poor man for close to an hour. Kitten licks and light squeezes are all you’ve given him as you worship his strong body. Each scar on his body has been caressed, licked, and kissed by you. Every inch of him has been loved and adored by you…

expect for his cock.

You’ve been purposely ignoring it until you finally take him into your mouth. His release is fast approaching as you bob your head up and down. He’s moaning and whimpering. Then his work phone rings. The stupid phone he only uses when he’s working goes off and he’s never been so angry in his entire life. You pull off of him and he lets out the loudest groan known to man. You giggle at him as you fish it from the night stand and press it to his ear as you place yourself in his lap.

“Price the fucking king could be dead and that still wouldn’t be a good enough reason to call me right now.”

3. And the one time that Price almost killed Simon.

Ever since Price called you to base, he’s been keeping in touch with you. He’ll text you and call you every now and then to make sure you’re okay. Obviously you are; Simon is your…partner and you can handle yourself but he still likes to check in on you. He feels responsible for Simon as he’s his captain but also for you since you’re his whole world.

Moving on… the first deployment that Simon went on was rough. You were anxious as you usually were but this time was worse. He was hurt. He had been shot and even though he’d healed just fine, you couldn’t help but worry about him. On the other hand, Simon’s nightmares had made a comeback and he’d been waking up in cold sweats. One time you swore you saw Ghost rather than your adoring man. You’d told Price about it and made he swear to not say a damn word to Simon. He agreed but kept a watchful eye on his Lieutenant.

On the second night of their deployment, Price had gotten a rather short and strange text from you that read “keep him safe please.” It felt like a given that he did but something about this felt wrong. He called you and it took until the last ring for you to pick up. You were sobbing, hyperventilating, and wheezing into the phone when you answered. He couldn’t get a single coherent word out of you for the first 10 minutes but when he did, he saw red.

Apparently Simon had lost his mind and decided that it would be better if you weren’t together. You’d told Price that he told you some bullshit lie about how he wasn’t feeling it anymore and you should go find someone better. The captain was more pissed off that his Lieutenant had lied and immediately found him the moment you’d stopped crying.

“Riley!” Price shouts across from the landing strip. That sends alarm bells off in Simon’s head. It was Ghost or Lieutenant, never his name.

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Simon can’t argue with him. He knows that what he did was wrong and Price is well within his right to act on his threat. Hell Simon was about to do it himself if it meant he could rewind time and take back what he said.

However he is still Lieutenant Ghost in this moment. He narrows his dark eyes at Price and slowly takes his hand off of his vest. Nothing but lethal silence fills the space between the two men. Bystanders are growing increasingly desperate for action, practically yipping like starving hyenas for a scrap.

“You have 30 seconds to get out of my sight.”

Price steps away and Simon disappears into the darkness. The hyenas howl in hunger around them, chattering about the unfairness of it all.

Simon calls you the moment he’s locked away in his room. He spends the next hour apologizing profusely to you and damn near begging you to wait for him. It’ll be a few weeks until he’s back but please…just wait for him.

#simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x female reader #ghost imagine #ghost call of duty #call of duty #call of duty imagine #ghost cod #cod x reader

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anistarrose · 3 months

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I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, the there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

#accessibility #image descriptions

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nonbinarypirat · 4 months

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education vs. fascism in iruma-kun

someone mentioned this in another post but iruma-kun does a wonderful job of showing that education is key to fighting fascist and harmful radical ideas. As soon as it became clear that things were going to change in the netherworld what was Sullivan's response? It wasn't "oh we need to send spies" or "we need to find the people" (though im sure people are working hard to find those answers) it was "we need to focus on educating our students." Because only knowledge and diversity in thoughts can combat fascist ideas. The issue only becomes worse with a lack of understanding and an echo chamber. And by doubling down with education, we can make sure our students are prepared for what lies ahead. Thats how we truly fight the power.

The teachers themselves can tell that things are changing. They stay informed and guess what? its obvious things are about to throw down soon. And so they work tirelessly not just because it's their jobs, but because they need to. this is their protest. this is how we can prevent the spread of gross rhetoric. And after Heartbreaker what they do? they double down on their education too. Because there is always something new to learn, always a way to grow/sharpen your strength. They too know that they can't stay stagnant, they must continue pushing to provide their students with the best chance of survival.

When you have villians that believe in these ideas in media, there's a big issue of them leaving out education as a weapon. But it's crucial if we want anything to truly change. Iruma himself wants to no longer be naive about the netherworld which was growing to be an issue the longer he stays. because yeah, you can't stay uninformed anymore iruma. its time to learn about the history of you new home and the leaders. taking being the king out of it, ignorance about these topics is a breeding ground for becoming complacent. iruma wants to be a hero? or at least, do the right thing when he can? that requires knowledge to make sure you aren't inadvertently hurting someone along the way.

Iruma loves the netherworld, the place he proudly calls home. but it's frought with danger and cruel people. And yet, Iruma is still proud of his new home and friends and wants to do anything he can to stay here. This reflects real life, where there is goodness and pride in the place you live and yet a faction of people who taint it with othering ideas. However, it's always worth fighting for the good overall and bettering yourself so you can see another tomorrow through. Iruma knows he can only protect himself and his loved ones is through learning. And I love Nishi for truly understanding this too. You can't fight fascism through pure will, it has to be beaten by education and the williness to better one's knowledge. That is how we will take back the Netherworld.

but yeah, this is just my little spiel as someone who loves educational activism and is going to school to become a teacher :). If i can find the original post I'll make sure to credit the op!

#iruma-kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #m!ik #mairuma #i had a different post planned but it wasn't done so enjoy this short one instead!

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toomuchracket · 2 months

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if you're too shy (office nerd!matty x reader fluff)

in which the other music journalist at the magazine you work at is the cutest weird boy you've ever met. enjoy <3

in hindsight, coming back from a two-week holiday the same day the magazine goes to print was a misguided idea.

your editor-in-chief tells you as much when you enter the office, pulling you into a half hug. “don't get me wrong, it's lovely to see you,” she says, scraping her hair back into a bun and securing it with a pencil. “but you'll be doing nothing all day, i'm afraid. maybe some last minute proofing, but i think everyone in nightlife and reviews has been alright. double-check with marianne.”

you do just that, weaving your way through people running copy and coffee between departments until you reach your own. it's mercifully quiet compared to everywhere else, the ten or so people dotted at desks around the sunlit room looking at their laptops and wearing headphones; you actually have to flick marianne on the back of the head to get her to notice you. “oi.”

“who the- oh, hi!” marianne's face softens when she sees it's you, and she stands to pull you into one of her infamously bone-crushing hugs before pulling back to get a good look. “well, you look annoyingly well-rested. but i suppose a fortnight in a spanish villa will do that to you. bitch.”

“i had a great time, thanks for asking,” you grin. “how’s everything been with you? stressful, without your star reporter?”

“well, for starters, you've been succeeded for that title.”

you frown only half-jokingly, scanning the room to try and guess which of your colleagues has replaced you as marianne's unofficial favourite. “who the fuck…?”

“language,” she lightly slaps your arm, in spite of the fact she was just about to say the same thing, then smiles suspiciously. “and i’m talking about our newest recruit.”

the brewing annoyance in your stomach dissipates immediately, replaced by a flock of tiny butterflies. “oh,” you try to keep your smile to a minimum. “that's okay. i like him.”

marianne sees right through you, though. she rolls her eyes. “oh, you would.”

“what?”

she sighs, motioning for you to lower your voice and modifying her own to a whisper. “he’s a curly-haired pretty-eyed vaguely scrawny white boy. you'd like him even if he didn't think the sun shone out of your arse.”

“marianne!” you hiss. “he does not!”

“don’t act all indignant, he has literally looked over at you once every thirty seconds since you walked in - and don't look, idiot, you'll freak him out. we need him on the ball, today of all days,” she rubs her eyes. “but yes, he’s very good at his job. i like him, even if i've no idea what in the world he goes off on his tangents about. great writer.”

“yeah, he is,” you risk a glance towards him, but all you can see is the back of his laptop - covered in stickers for things you can only name half of - and dark curls peeking out from the side of his headphones. “i like the references. different perspective from me, innit? that's why we hired him, after all.”

“who's we? you were too pissed off that i was hiring another music critic to agree to be part of the interviewing panel.”

you'd love to disagree, but you really were pissed when marianne and the other editors told you they were expanding the nightlife section. it didn't matter that it was in response to an increase in funding and readership, with the magazine switching to a print format as well as the online edition you'd contributed to since its creation - your fierce independence and pride meant you didn't take the news well, made you think it was an issue with your competence and writing ability that meant you'd be getting a new colleague. but once you were reassured that you'd still get to keep the Big Gigs and restaurant reviews to yourself, you were slightly more agreeable to the idea.

and once you actually met the new guy, stumbling over both his words and his own feet as he introduced himself, you couldn't quite remember why you'd been opposed in the first place.

“well,” you say, snapping back into reality. “thank goodness i'm over it now.”

“because you want to get under him?”

“no!” you stand indignantly, and then grin. “on top, maybe.”

“good grief,” your boss shakes her head. “don't you go bringing it up to him - excuse the pun - before this edition goes to the printers,” she points at you as you move to walk away. “or talking to him at all until then, actually, you hear me? i love you, but you're a distraction to him, and he's my best journo.”

“he's not, but alright,” you pat her head as you walk back towards the door. “i'll be in the staff room if you need me. and i won't talk to anyone, mum, i promise.”

“i'm only five years older than you!”

“whatever you say!” you reply in a singsongy voice, giggling to yourself as you wander towards the sunny kitchen. the little radio on the windowsill is on, as it always is, and you nod along to the cure while you wait for the kettle to boil. once you've made a cuppa (and grabbed a slack handful of the chocolate digestives marianne always keeps the cupboard stocked with), you settle at the table with your laptop, typing out ideas for your next feature and doing your best not to think about the boy down the corridor you've been instructed not to talk to for the time being. for the most part, you succeed.

that is, until he walks into the staff room two hours later.

you frantically wipe your face of biscuit crumbs as he does, smiling as sweetly as you can for someone with no idea if she has chocolate on her teeth or not. “hi, matty. how are you?”

“oh, hi! i'm, uh, i'm alright,” matty smiles widely enough that his verbal emotional downplaying is blatant - still, he's so cute, beaming at you like that with his little sweater paws. he’s always in a jumper or cardigan or hoodie of some kind, and on more than one occasion in the three months you've known him, you've absolutely thought about literally cosying up into him instead of doing any work. “how was spain? and the wedding - it was a family wedding you were going to, yeah?”

“that's right,” it’s not a big deal, but you glow at the fact he remembered. or maybe it's the soft intent he looks at you with. “it was lovely, yeah. although - wait, have we gone to print?” you ask, suddenly recalling marianne's instructions. “i'm not keeping you from work?”

matty's curls bounce as he shakes his head, light hitting off the metal hoop in his earlobe (that you're only mildly obsessed with). “we've gone. i'm just in here to get my lunch,” he pulls a tupperware from the fridge, cheeks rosy as he waves it. “made some soup last night.”

he makes his own soup. the thought is so endearing that it takes everything in you not to sigh; you settle for a smile. “carrot and coriander?”

“you can tell from one glance?”

you shrug. “s'my favourite.”

“really?” matty's face seems to light up. “mine too,” he busies himself with putting the tupperware in the microwave, taking his time pressing buttons and turning dials before looking bashfully at you. “so, you had a nice time at the wedding, then?”

“i did, thank you. do you, um,” you start, suddenly shy. “d'you want to see some photos from it, while you're waiting for the soup to heat up?”

he nods back just as shyly, sitting quite awkwardly on the seat next to yours; while you open your photos app, matty twists a stray curl around his finger, and the movement seems to send your nerves into vibration as well as the molecules in the air. with a series of shallow breaths, you locate the folder of the wedding pictures and set your phone on the table. “feel free to flick through them, if you like.”

“thank you,” matty sits forward, carefully swiping through the album. you lean on your elbow, doing your best not to beam adoringly at the way he looks intently at each photo before moving to the next. “the venue is really beautiful.”

“yeah, it was stunning.”

the next picture is one of you in your bridesmaid dress, taken by your sister the morning of the wedding. you watch, slightly heartsick, as matty's mouth falls open as he looks at you; the feeling worsens when he tentatively does the same thing in real life, those pretty eyes of his sparkling as he smiles softly. “so are you. really. like,” he looks down at the photo again, shaking his head slightly before looking back up at you. “that colour is beautiful on you. honest. you look incredible.”

“thank you,” the words come out in a whisper, and the two of you silently smile at each other for a moment until you clear your throat. “um, there are more of the official pics on my instagram, let me… actually, do you have my private account?”

“oh, no,” matty shakes his head again - god, you love the way his hair moves. “just the one for your writing.”

“well,” you tap on the app with an almost-imperceptibly shaky finger. “that's the username there, if you'd like to follow. no pressure, of course. don’t wanna fuck up your algorithms or anything.”

your nervous chuckle at the end of the sentence turns to a giggle when you see matty's face as you share your username; it lights up so much that you'd be forgiven for thinking he'd just won the lottery. he pulls his own phone out and taps away at it. “you don't have to follow me back, by the way,” his cheeks flush a deep red, a beautiful colour. “m'not posting anything interesting.”

doubtful. he might be one of the most interesting people you've ever met, all talent and sweetness and a wealth of cultural understanding wrapped up in a sweater and a pretty face. “no, i'd like to.”

“alright. thank you,” matty's cheeks seem to get even redder as he watches you hit follow back, face twitching as though he’s trying to stop himself smiling too big. when the microwave dings, he all but skips over to it, almost tripping over the leg of his chair in a sweetly awkward way; he swears under his breath when he lifts the steaming container out, turning back sheepishly to look at you. “sorry.”

“don't worry,” you grin at him, feeling slightly bold. “i still think you're sweet when you swear.”

he giggles, and the noise makes your heart leap; in addition to being one of the most interesting people you think you've ever met, matty healy is without doubt the cutest. watching his lips pout in concentration as he stirs the soup and checks the temperature, you briefly imagine what they would feel like against your own, how he would be if the two of you were to kiss. just as giggly and endearingly awkward as he usually is, you think - eager to please, lips and tongue a little sloppy and unsure but enthusiastic enough for you not to mind, slightly unsure of where to put his hands so as to not make you uncomfortable… the scene is as clear as day in your head, and you really, really want to recreate it. you'd devour him right now if you could, the sweetheart.

and then, matty reaches up to get a bowl from the shelf, the hem of his shirt goes with him, and your want to devour him suddenly takes on a less pg-rated meaning than it did a second ago.

he has a fucking hip tattoo.

you’re pretty sure it's only a sliver of the full design you can actually see, but the hints of red and blue and black ink and the glimpse of his happy trail are enough to fuck you up completely. as you register what you're seeing - what you're discovering about the seemingly buttoned-up, shy, unassuming-to-everyone-but-you matty - your breath catches in your throat, forcing you to cough quite obviously on the mouthful of lukewarm tea you'd just taken. one cough turns into another, and you clap a hand over your mouth to make your tattoo reaction attack the least obvious it can be.

still, the ever-perceptive man across the kitchen notices, running over to crouch in front of you with concern filling those beautiful eyes of his. “you alright, darling?”

darling?! no, you most certainly aren't alright.

but you can't tell matty that, so you stick to gesturing to let him know you'll reply once you've managed to swallow your tea. “i am, yeah, thanks. tea just, y'know, went down the wrong way.”

matty tilts his head. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, slightly embarrassed. “really. thank you, though.”

“of course,” he smiles in return, knee brushing lightly against your leg as he steadies himself; he looks down, eyes widening as he registers how close the two of you are, and quickly stands. “i'd better, y'know, get my lunch.”

you nod, despite the strange loneliness settling into your bones at the lack of him next to you. “i can head back to the office, if you want peace?”

“no, no, please stay!” matty all but gasps, turning to look at you like a deer caught in headlights - he clears his throat, blinking a few times before speaking again. “please don't feel the need to leave on my account, i mean. or feel obliged to talk, really - i was just going to read.”

“you're sure i won't be a bother to you?”

matty smiles warmly, shaking his head. “that'll never happen.”

christ.

“okay,” you whisper, winking at him - and savouring the little giggle that bubbles out of him when you do - before turning back to your laptop.

matty settles at the table a minute or so later, pulling a paperback from his back pocket and holding it open quite attractively with one hand. you peek over the rim of your laptop at him every so often, never for more than a couple of seconds at a time; partially to avoid the mortification of him catching you, but mostly because if you look at him any longer you know your mind will wander back to that fucking hip tattoo of his, and what it might look like completely visible to you, and what it might feel like under your lips, and what noises matty might make if you slowly dragged your tongue all over it before moving to the side to lick a wavy line up the length of his-

enough. he's literally right there.

the room feels hot, all of a sudden, your cheeks flushing and throat drying to match. on only slightly shaky legs, you pick up your waterbottle and head to the water fountain, crouching as best you can to fill it. even though he stays silent, you can feel matty’s eyes on you from across the room, but it doesn't bother you or freak you out in the way that other men ogling you at a water fountain would - it's quite obvious that matty has some sort of more-than-platonic affection for you, but his gaze has always been one of appreciation and awe when it comes to you, not the predatory one you've come to expect from men. and yet, his is the only male gaze that makes you feel slightly nervous, unused to being looked at with such reverence and tenderness by an attractive boy; in complete contrast, though, it also makes you lower your guard, pull down the bricks from the wall you've built around your heart, and allow yourself to actually feel something for matty, for once. something good, honest, promising.

matty looks up from his book as you sit down, smiling pleasantly. he opens his mouth as if to talk, and then closes it immediately, shaking his head slightly.

this intrigues you. “you okay, matty?”

“hmm? oh, yeah, i was just thinking,” his cheeks go a shade of pink you would buy in blush form if you could find it. “when you were first talking about the wedding… you said although, and then we got off-topic slightly. what, um, what were you going to say, if you don't mind me asking?”

“oh, right,” you wrack your brain, doing your best to not get distracted by how cute you find his perception. “i think i was going to say something about how, as good as it all was, there's nothing like a family wedding to remind you of how single you are.”

his jaw falls open. “you… you don't have a boyfriend? wait, sorry,” he blinks. “or a partner?”

you shake your head, biting the inside of your lip to stop yourself smiling. “no boyfriend, no. and thus, constantly advised by a never-ending flock of aunts that i should get one so i could get married.”

“christ,” matty winces. “yeah, my cousin's getting married in a couple of months - not looking forward to everyone asking me when i'm going to meet a nice girl and settle down, as if i can answer.”

no girlfriend. how interesting. “you're single? really?”

he rolls his eyes, still smiling at you. “be serious. course i am.”

“i am being serious! that surprises me,” you lean on one elbow, tilting your head to look at him. “you're lovely, matty.”

matty’s eyes widen, and he blinks adorably a few times before he smiles shyly again. “thank you. i think the same about you.”

“you do?”

he simply nods, total sincerity in those pretty eyes.

you feel your cheeks warm, but you make no effort to hide it. “thank you.”

matty shrugs. “just telling the truth, darling,” he looks panicked when he realises what he's said. “sorry for calling you that, twice, it just-”

“i like it, matty, it's alright,” you say reassuringly. “and i like-”

“oh, thank god you're both here,” marianne bursts into the room, carrying her laptop; you frown petulantly at her for ruining your moment, but shuffle your chair round closer to matty's so she can sit at the table too. “something weird’s happening.”

matty squints. “what d'you mean by weird?”

marianne pushes her laptop towards you both. “there's overlap in your planned reviews - the band you're going to see at the end of next week, matthew, have just been announced as the opener for the next Big Gig. i need to know how we want to go about this.”

“oh,” he looks at you. “i don't mind if you want to just review them as part of yours.”

you're shaking your head vehemently before he even finishes talking. “no, that's not fair,” you tap your lips with your index finger the way you always do when you concentrate, trying to ignore the glow within your body when you see matty looking at them from the corner of your eye; inspiration strikes, and you turn to marianne. “matty could come with me, couldn't he? if he reviews their headline gig, and then he does a follow-up review of their opening set in the Big Gig feature - we could just do a joint byline, work together on it.”

both of them turn to look at you in slight shock. marianne is the first to speak, her words trickling out slowly as she processes the fact you've just agreed to let someone else work on a Big Gig for the first time. “you're… happy with that?”

“if matty is, yeah,” you turn to him, smiling. “sound alright?”

he beams. “more than. thank you.”

“of course,” you turn back to the boss. “there you go. sorted.”

she sighs, relieved. “thank goodness for that. alright,” she stands, picking up her laptop and heading back to the main office. “i'll coordinate press passes. thanks for making that simple - you're both stars.”

“anytime!” you call after her, before turning back to matty. “you're sure you're happy to do this? i realise i've just given you more work to do, but…”

he laughs, a beautiful sound. “nah, i don't mind. also,” he shuffles in his seat, bashful again. “i actually have a spare ticket for the first show, if you'd like it - bought it before i saw it was on the review roster. doesn't seem fair that i get to go to two gigs while you only get one, i think. i mean, no pressure, obviously, but the offer's there.”

god, he’s so fucking cute. how could you ever say no to him? “i'd like that a lot, matty, thank you,” you beam at him. “i think us working together is going to be a lot of fun.”

matty beams back just as enthusiastically. “i think so too.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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ineffable-suffering · 7 months

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INEFFABLE META MASTERPOST

Because I'm slowly losing count and need to organize. So, here's all my self-written metas or ones that I reblogged with my own added theories and commentary! In rainbow colours, naturally.

1 – Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why. My most lengthy and proudest meta about the Final Fifteen and why I think Aziraphale lied on purpose. (Also: The absolute darling @esthermitchell-author bravely fought their way through it and wrote up some more interesting points and different takes on what I came up with. If you want to go down a S2 rabbit hole with us, go read it here.)

2 – Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator (links below) A three-part meta in which I try to analyse and explain that all of the minisodes in Season 2 are not objective narrations but actually Aziraphale's memories.

Part 1: The Story of Job

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

3 – The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie A meta in which I go into unnecessarily great detail about how the Whickber Street Meeting Cotillion Ball was meant to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley.

4 – Crowley & Aziraphale were never free (reblog) A reblog of @baggvinshield's post in which I explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.

5 – In Defense of Aziraphale (double reblog) A double try at explaining why I think Aziraphale's POV in the Final Fifteen is just as horrible as Crowley's and why I don't think him "choosing" to go back to Heaven was the only point of his character journey.

6 – The Art of Miscommunication: Ineffable Edition A meta in which i once again explain why miscommunication is the single biggest ineffable enemy in Season 2.

7– Season 2 Bookshop Shot Meta A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a single bookshop frame in Season 2.

8 – What if it wasn't Aziraphale and Crowley who performed the 25 Lazarii miracle? A mini-meta in which I propose the theory that Jimbriel helped with the miracle to hide himself away from Heaven & Hell.

9 – Things in Good Omens Season 2 I still find weird (reblog) A reblog of @ok-sims and many other great OPs' thoughts on the weird loose strings in Season 2 and what unanswered questions I still have myself.

10 – The Deleted Bookshop Scene (reblog) A reblog of @skirtdyke's video and @i-only-ever-asked-questions' smart thoughts on it, with my own overly-excited 'what that could have meant for the "It's too late" line'-theroy.

11 – The Bentley Handle Easter Egg A meta I can proudly say has been liked by none other than Mr. Neil Gaiman himself about Crowley's Bentley handle that might have existed before the Bentley ever did.

12 – The F*cking Eccles Cakes A meta where I briefly loose my mind because of a pastry. (Addendum: People said very smart things in the comments of the post!)

14 – Re: "You go too fast for me, Crowley" A meta in which I make myself sad by connecting that infamous line to Aziraphale assuming Crowley wanted the Holy Water as a suicide pill.

13 – Trauma-Dumping on your plants: The Anthony J. Crowley Chronicles A meta on why Crowley treats his plants the way that he does.

14 – Demonic Mental Health Awareness Post In which I talk about why I want to get Crowley a therapy voucher.

15 – The Curious Incident of The Flaming Sword in Good Omens A meta on why the Flaming Sword has no deeper meaning. Or does it? (Updated: here's a reblog from @queerfables who did a wonderfully exellent job at calmly explaining all the swordy questions I was yelling about! Consider this meta solved.)

16 – Ceci n'est pas une plume A meta in which I'm a bit of a nerd for language and also explain why learning French and magic the human way says so much about Aziraphale as a character.

17 – The meaning of "I forgive you" A meta in which I explain what both "I forgive you"s mean and why Aziraphale will always fight for what is right until he wins. Also, the lovely @sharksbeerr translated it to Chinese on Weibo!

18 – Memory, or the lack thereof, in Season 2 A little reblog on how memory is a big and unresolved, leaky-bucket theme in Season 2.

Addendum:

The one non-spoiler-y ask I could come up with about S2 that was actually answered by Neil, yay!

Also, this wholesome little post I added to that Mr. Gaiman also reblogged. :‘)

*** This is a work in progress and will get updated every time I post a new meta! ***

#good omens #good omens season 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #my own meta #good omens season 1 #meta masterpost #ineffable-suffering

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reading-comp-posting · 3 months

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Have you ever considered using AI tools to assist with writing your responses?

Well no, because I'm doing this blog for fun. I'm enjoying writing out reading comprehension questions for posts, so why would I automate that away?

But let's say that I saw myself as some sort of arbitor of reading comprehension who needs to post as much as possible to enlighten the lowly tumblr masses. Let's say that I'm interested in upping my output of questions by any means necessary.

I opened up chatgpt and input a certain request, which would hopefully make it write questions about the last post I responded to:

Write reading comprehension questions about a Tumblr post, written by a user named "echoeyee," that reads as folows: "my take on shipping aromantic characters is that if you're aro you get to do whatever you want and if you're not you have to write me a three page essay 12 pt font times new roman double spaced explaining in detail why you believe entering a romantic relationship would be an interesting and worthwhile storyline for the character and how you believe their aromanticism would affect the way they experience said relationship"

And it certainly did write a lot of questions about it. Let's go through them, one by one.

1. What is the primary stance expressed by the Tumblr user "echoeyee" regarding shipping aromantic characters?

This one is good. If you look at the set I wrote, my first one is basically the same, just with different words and a less formal tone.

2. According to the post, what conditions must non-aromantic individuals fulfill if they wish to advocate for romantic storylines involving aromantic characters?

Again, this one is good. It's basically my 3rd question but, yet again, more formal.

3. Describe the format and specifications outined for the essay mentioned in the post.

This is the part where the questions get bad. The exact details of the essay are irrelevant, other than the fact that they imply a formal, academic setting.

4. In your own words, explain the user's perspective on the autonomy of aromantic individuals in contrast to non-aromantic individuals when it comes to shipping characters.

This question seems to genuinely be a product of chatgpt pissing on the poor. The purpose of the post (and specifically the essay within) is to ask people who ship aromantic characters without being aromantic themself to consider said character's aromanticism instead of erasing it.

Meanwhile, chatgpt seems to think that the OP thinks that people who aren't aromantic should be forced by law or something to write an essay if they want to ship an aromantic character.

5. How does the Tumblr post reflect the user's views on representation and storytelling in relation to aromantic characters?

I think that this one is a bit too speculative, but it does actually relate to the OP's intended takeaway.

6. Discuss the potential implications of the requirements set forth in the post for writers and creators in the realm of fiction and fanworks.

This one is just a bit confusing. Chatgpt seems to be going off the assumption that OP is issuing a decree as the emperor of the world.

7. Reflect on whether you agree or disagree with the sentiments expressed in the post and provide reasons to support your viewpoint.

This could have been a "discuss with a mutual" question, and I actually did initially write a question like this one, but I ended up removing it.

Aromantiscism is already controversial enough and I fear that a discussion of whether OP's take on shipping aromantic characters is valid could quickly devolve into discussion on whether aromanticism itself is valid.

8. How might the user's approach impact discussions and representations of aromanticism in media and popular culture?

Yet again, chatgpt is taking the essay thing way too literally. Yes, forcing every single writer who isn't aromantic but wants to ship an aromantic character to write an essay about it would most likely lead to a decrease in people erasing their identities, but the essay isn't the point.

9. Consider the broader societal and cultural context in which this post is situated. How might prevailing attitudes towards romantic relationships influence reactions to the user's perspective?

Obviously historical context is important to keep in mind when you're reading/listening to/watching/whatever a text, but this question has almost nothing to do with reading comprehension. You need to understand the post to imagine how people would react, sure, but understanding how people would react to the post doesn't help you understand this post very much.

10. What insights can be gleaned from this post regarding the importance of diverse and inclusive storytelling in media and creative works?

This could be a discuss with a mutual question. The issue is that it's a bit to broad of a topic.

#not reading comprehension questions #ask #self post

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powdermelonkeg · 5 months

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Personal headcanons for Gale's tower layout:

5F: An astronomical observatory with an orrery in it. The stardome is enchanted to reflect whatever sky and weather Gale wishes; if he wants to see the stars in Kythorn, that's what it shows him. If he wants rainy weather to read to, guess what. The stars reflect whatever position the orrery's been set to. There's a walkable ledge around the exterior of the roof for Tara's pigeon-hunting.

4F: A portal room, surrounded by three guest bedrooms and a bathroom. The bedrooms are themed: one smells like a sea breeze and faces the harbor, colored with sunset shades with gold accents, one smells like rose potpourri and fresh grass, mostly pastel purple with brass, one smells faintly spiced, deep maroon and bronze. Morena prefers the rose one. Each one comes equipped with a vanity that has three (magic) mirrors, a wardrobe that removes wrinkles and stains of anything hung in it and repairs minor stitches, a set of candles that never burn down their wicks, and curtains that, when drawn, enact a silent barrier around the room. The floors are polished hardwood with plush, patterned carpets. The bathroom is self-cleaning, has running water on command, whatever temp you want it, warms towels for you, and has a magic mirror (magic mirrors in my headcanon show hairstyles and things you WANT to try before you actually try them out).

3F: Gale's floor. His bedroom, a walk-in closet, a room for Tara, and a personal bathroom. Gale's bedroom has silence-spelled drapes, glowing crystal sconces he can dim with a wave, a desk, a large canopy bed (the one he summons during his last night in Act II), a small bookshelf for whatever he's currently reading that doubles as his nightstand, and a plush window seat. The walk-in closet is neatly sorted, with everything from travel robes to finery to wear to the annual Blackstaff Ball, and has the same enchantments in it as the guest room wardrobes, with the added effect of making anything put in it inexplicably smell like a library. His bathroom is just like the guest ones, but larger. The bathtub inside, when activated, always assumes he wants his bath piping hot and lavender-scented. Tara's room is smaller, but fully designed for her little cat body. Scratching posts, cat-sized perches and comfy cat towers, and a little bookcase and window seat of her own. She keeps her space VERY neat, in contrast to Gale's "organized chaos" sort of living.

2F: This is the floor we see in Gale's Act II illusion. The packed library, the messy desk, the private study, the balcony... He sorts his books by topic, then by date rather than author. Tara is appalled by it. The balcony has a minor enchantment to keep weather, pigeons, and seagulls off of it. Tara is upset at the lack of birds; it's SUCH a cozy napping spot, and you're going to take away her free breakfast, too? Gale's compromise was the 5th floor's walkable ledge, which is a prime pigeon-hunting perch.

1F: The entry floor. It's got a sitting room to entertain guests with, and a large, well-kitted kitchen. The dishwashing basin does the washing for Gale. On the wall in the sitting room, there are two notable paintings: one is of young, 10-year-old Gale in a cape, standing proudly with both his parents and holding his first-ever proper wizard staff. He's TRYING to have Tara on his shoulders, he insisted, but she's just too big, so he's wound up leaning forward where she awkwardly perches on his back. He has a snaggle tooth. The other painting is of a much older Gale, dressed finely and standing with his mother, smiling. It was made before he got the beard, so he looks a decent bit younger than he is. Tara is wrapped around Morena's shoulders like one of those feather boas, but she's headbutting Gale's shoulder affectionately.

B1: Gale's wine cellar and well-stocked pantry. He collects all kinds of wines from all over Faerûn, usually getting them from merchants that pass through Waterdeep, but he's not opposed to cracking open an expensive vintage with the right company. There's a locked cabinet labeled "in case of Elminster" that contains some cheeses and wine to offer the older wizard, that way Elminster doesn't raid Gale's pantry when he's not looking. If you don't feed Elminster, he WILL feed himself at your expense.

B2: Gale's spell workshop, scroll storage, alchemy lab, and vault. Gale's not especially well-versed in alchemy (I think Wyll's got dibs on that, personally), but he DOES mix himself up some Arcane Cultivation elixirs from time to time. And if a potion recipe intrigues him enough, he likes to have a place on hand to try things out. The vault is well-guarded with spells, but, sadly, pretty empty; it just has his savings there now, where once it held all sorts of enchanted items he'd picked up through his studies and younger adventuring days.

An additional note: Tara has perches all throughout the house, on every floor, basically anywhere Gale spends a lot of time doing things. The cushions that are hers are magically heated and smell like tea and mint.

#long post #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale's tower #see i think gale knows all about elixirs #resistances to magic? see invisibility? right up his alley #but i don't think he could look at a rogue's morsel and be like 'ah yes. that's for healing purposes'#mans needs a recipe book for his chemistry #whereas i think wyll would know just about every edible and useful plant out there AND how to treat his own wounds

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pep-rambles · 2 months

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Lucifer is a Swiftie headcanons because I kin this man so much I am projecting my other hyperfixations on him

But also I mean c'mon,

Look at him

yes there is RadioApple in this

-It probably started from Charlie. When she was in high school (post emo phase obviously) she may have enjoyed Taylor Swift (maybe Fearless got her through her senior year because I can't stop projecting) Lucifer started listening to try and have something to bond with his daughter about. But about the time Charlie kind of lost interest is about the time Lucifer doubled down on his obsession.

-He has been to basically almost every Eras concert, usually in really good seats because many a swiftie has offered to sell their soul for tickets. He said keep your soul just let him tag along.

-He is definitely an Evermore stan mostly because of relating too hard to the divorce narrative of it.

-Speaking of, Charlie has threatened to lock him out of his Spotify after catching him on the floor crying to “Champaign Problems” on repeat too many times. She never would but most definitely tried to ban him from listening to it for a month.

-She then caught him crying to “You’re Loosing Me”

-Angel Dust is most definitely Beyhive (killer bee probably) and though initially joking that they are rivals the two men bond over their love for the two queens of pop, recommending songs and videos to each other.

-Angel is a Reputation Stan though

-After one of Lucifer’s many tiffs with Alastor, Charlie is expressing her frustration asking her dad why can’t they just get along and Lucifer explains that he doesn’t trust Alastor because “I think his ever-present grin is a little troubling” and is a little upset when she doesn’t get it

-One day, Luci is sitting in the Lobby doing his work while listening to Taylor on shuffle. He’s casually minding his own business jamming out to one of her poppier love songs and Alastor wanders in commenting on the “Obnoxious trite little diddy” Lucifer doesn't even hesitate to take the bait

L: HOW DARE YOU! SHE IS A TALENTED GODDESS!! A DOWNRIGHT MUSICAL CHAMELEON! You are such a snob Alastor! Good music didn't stop getting made after your tiny little lifetime.

A: I never said it did but it's certainly not this frivolous noise!

L: Oh, you uninformed uncultured cur! She is a fucking poet!

He then proceeds to play examples for Alastor of her most creative and heart wrenching lyrics (he absolutely makes Al sit through all 10 minutes and 13 seconds of ATW)

After all that though Lucifer will never get Alastor to admit that he finds T.S. musically talented (or that Lucifer did in fact catch Al tapping his foot a couple times)

-Alastor does come to Lucifer, after a bit of research, admitting that though he does not find her music enjoyable, he respects her business cunning. Luci figures that's good enough. For now.

-because I bet my non-existent Eras tour tickets that Lilith was a hater. I’ll leave it at that.

-OP works at Barnes & Noble and let me tell you there are about 80 different Taylor Swift magazines that even my swiftie ass thinks is excessive but Lucifer has every single one

-including the Taylor Swift paper dolls magazine (yes this is a real thing). He probably gets a few because he convinces Charlie to use them as a team building activity.

-He has at least 3 copies of each of the covers for the 2023 TIME Person of the Year magazine.

-Also all cardigans. On a casual day he definitely lounges in them and has a set rotation of when to wear each one (and I am totally not gonna draw that nope)

-Well, it seems Lucifer is no longer crying to the depressing break-up songs on repeat but now he seems to be angrily listening to “Gorgeous” on repeat. Charlie asks him about it and he goes full denial mode “No no Charlie I'm not thinking of anyone specific, I've just been really into this song lately.” Everyone else in the hotel, besides Alastor, has already figured out what's going on

Alastor: If I have to hear that obnoxious noise one more time I will reduce that tiny maniac’s room to rubble as well as the abode of whatever sad sack is making him play it.

Angel: *knowing smirk* I'm gonna hold ya to that one, Antlers.

-Al may very well hear it one more time if Lucifer uses it as his confession song (I don't fully commit to this headcanon, I just think it's funny)

-Anyway boy’s probably in his Reputation stan Era b/c LWYMMD is like his long overdue big F-YOU to Heaven song

btw this is NOT gonna end at these headcanons I am running with this idea like scissors.

@nunalastor

@julsiemagne

@nose-nippin-fun (I know you're not a swiftie but we talked about this so idk if you care I can un-tag you if you want)

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thelittlelegends · 19 days

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THE LITTLE LEGENDS

This is a blog for sharing and spreading love for the smaller Zelda games in the fandom!

For everyone crying over Spirit Tracks being forgotten, to people who wish someone else remembered the struggle to find a fourth player for Four Swords or sobbing at the end of online co-op for Tri Force Heroes – this is a home to join others in that love. Mainline and third-party Zelda games are all included!

The criteria for which Zelda games count as “small” is hard to quantify. To make things easier, we went by the numbers posted to Archive of Our Own, which has the option to disambiguate which game you’re writing for and is the current best-known fanfiction site. From there, we removed some things to try and narrow it down to core game fics and picked everything that was under 1000 works.

The resulting list of Zelda games is as follows:

CDI games = 14

Zelda cartoon = 29

Cadence of Hyrule = 50

Tri Force Heroes = 51

Oracle of Seasons = 76

Oracle of Ages = 85

Zelda II: Adventure of Link = 93

Zelda (1986) = 180

Spirit Tracks = 183

Phantom Hourglass = 191

Link’s Awakening = 256

Link to the Past = 260

Minish Cap = 290

Four Swords = 359

Four Swords Adventures = 423

A Link Between Worlds = 587

Wind Waker = 739

Some of this will be a case of poor tagging, and things winding up in the wrong place. (eg. Four Swords has 1200 entries, but upon removing all Four Swords Adventures or Manga story tags it reduces to 359.) Others may not be here at all because nobody has posted it under it’s own name vs a related game or “& Related Fandoms.”

While this means these numbers are not absolute, they still represent the problem: it’s hard to find content for your favourite games if it's in the list above, and we want to fix that!

WHAT DOES THAT ENTAIL?

The event we’re planning is very chill, very low-stakes way of building up interest and knowledge, and then collecting and sharing fanworks produced.

The event month will be AUGUST, 2024.

Every few days in August we’ll make a post for each game on the list (and any bonus games that were highlighted alongside the main ones), which people can reblog with a link to the fanwork they created! You can also make your own posts and tag the blog plus the game of the day but we cannot promise to see and reblog everything.

In the lead-up to August, we will be doing round-up posts for each of the above games.

Some will be doubled up and treated as “bonuses” due to their small pool of fans (CDI, the Cartoon), and if there are some we don’t know about we may take them on as suggestions!

Each of these initial game posts will include basic stats about the game: when they were released, on what hardware, where you can find them now, and what their story was. It will also include links to a walkthrough or two, for those without access to the necessary hardware.

The purpose of these posts is to be shared!

Reblog them with your favourite artwork, current fanworks you love and adore, your favourite AU they’re featured in! Share the lore you wish everyone knew, and the characters who get forgotten!

Share prompts you’ve never gotten around to using, or ones you don’t feel competent to handle!

Do not feel bad about doing this! Every exchange or event I’ve been in, people desperately wanted prompts and ideas to spark their own imagination!

The goal is for people to learn more about games that they may have never heard of before, or not had the time or ability to engage with in full on their own. And from there we can push up those numbers on AO3 for everyone to enjoy!

The scheduled games to be “main” features of this event, and their respective introductory dates, are as follows:

May 5th = Minish Cap

May 12th = Zelda II: AoL

May 19th = Oracle of Ages / Oracle of Seasons

May 26th = Cadence of Hyrule

June 2nd = Phantom Hourglass

June 9th = Four Swords Adventures / Four Swords [Game]

June 16th = Link’s Awakening

June 23rd = Zelda (1986)

June 30th = Link to the Past

July 7th = Tri Force Heroes

July 14th = Spirit Tracks

July 21st = Link Between Worlds

July 28th = Wind Waker

Exact dates for the posting schedule of new fanworks in August will be released soon!

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greensun · 10 months

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THE BIG QSMPSTUCK LOREDUMP AKA: I finally get to do all the lorebabble I wanted to do.

EDIT (11/1/2023): THIS VERSION IS NOW OUT OF DATE AND DOES NOT INCLUDE THE PEOPLE IN THE ICE CUBES. I AM CURRENTLY REWORKING PARTS OF THIS BUT MOST SHOULD STAY THE SAME FOR THE NEW POSTS SANS BAGHERA, KAMETO, AND DANTDM'S CLASSPECTS! LOOK FORWARD TO UPDATED POSTS IN THE FUTURE.

SOME NOTES: 1. I have a very specific version of qsmpstuck going on with my art I make that I made with a group of friends (thanks Slimercord!) 2. There are other people who made other classpects and takes on QSMP characters that are more character based, mine is not that case, it looks at how QSMP as a whole would work as a full sburb session, and balancing how many people would be on each aspect or class to carry that motif of Homestuck's balancing/equal duality theme. This means I am looking at and using Classpects as a narrative & plot device, not necessarily a personality test like how someone would classpect a real person (This is how the Extended Zodiac works, and why I choose to ignore it for character classpecting. It works great for classpecting real life people though, so by all means you can use the EZ for you and your friends!). 3. AND WITH THAT! It means two people per aspect and and class, with the exception of space and time having three people, and knights and heirs having three people. 4. FAIR WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NEVER READ HOMESTUCK, THERE IS LOTS OF DEATH IN IT, WITH LOTS OF RESURRECTIONS. I WILL BE DISCUSSING DEATH IN A VERY JOKING MANNER HERE! 5. For posterity in case things change in the future: This post was made August 2nd 2023, after the French were added, and right before the Election arc finished. I'm sure if I came back to this after QSMP is over my classpecting would be different. (Updated August 20, 2023)

I'll add this again at the bottom but if you want more of my notes and thought processes or just more qsmpstuck in general here's the link to my tag for all qsmpstuck on this blog, and here's the link to all qsmpstuck on my regular mcyt blog. (my regular blog includes other people's qsmpstuck takes & reblogs however! But every classpect analysis I reblogged in there w/ an anonymous ask sent to the OP was me on anon lol)

HERE WE GO! The big ol google doc sheet I had to make for this. Every note on that godtier order list is how we decided the character would godtier, and we still aren't even technically done! I have so much information built up for this AU I am not sure I could include all of it in this post.

CLASSPECTS

Anyway, in terms of classpects, the way we went about deciding was 1. Finding symbolic meanings we felt fit the characters best 2. If the classpect was funny and had a fun double entendre to the character 3. If we really struggled, we went and picked up Dahni Witch of Light's classpect analyses and found which class fit a character best within an aspect we had a vague idea of. I find Dahni's analyses to be the best at classpecting non-homestuck characters with, because they give enough leeway in interpretation and are somewhat broad, while still applying as a fictional character's story arc, rather than solely a personality test. We also basically ignored most classpect's assigned "role" concept thingy, they were too nebulous in meaning to help much, with the only ones we kept being Sylphs are the passive creation class with Maids as the active creation class, and then Bards are passive destruction, Princes are active destruction.

AND NOW BACK TO THE CUBES YOU CARE ABOUT: As stated before, we did lay it out so we (mostly) only had two per aspect and class, to get that true fan session balancing spirit. Space/time and knight/heir are the only ones with three members. Here's how the outfits look!

My favorites here & their reasonings are: - Etoiles: Sylph of Blood - We all agreed him getting a classpect that is at least somewhat silly would be fitting, but all immediately came to the conclusion that he would hands down be a blood player. From his love of fighting, and the way he goes about befriending everyone he meets to help them, he's just so blood player. To balance out our initial silly classpecting idea, we made him a Sylph! It fits, like, really well! He creates friendship, he helps people, like. What more could you want from a classpect for him. - Mariana: Maid of Doom - I sent these two asks to this other person about this and liked their reasonings lol. - Spreen: Prince of Breath - Look I'm a Spreengirl I think he would play a great active destruction class and he takes away other's freedom (in minecraft). He kills people. He's just so Prince to me. It's really funny. - BBH: Knight of Life - Do you know how funny it is to take a guy who's whole thing is that he's like entirely black and red themed and put him in the burlap sack outfit. Also Knight & Space player frog breeding combo. He's working with Foolish on those frogs. - Foolish: Page of Space - This guy is the ultimate builder of all time ever. He was hands down the easiest to look at and go Oh he is THE space player here. - Fit: Prince of Space - Y'know 2b2t and hacked clients and griefing people? Prince of Space. Plus since he's a space player, soooo - Philza: Knight of Rage - Another great Space & Knight combo. This guy is such a hater on QSMP (positive) he doubts easily distrusts whenever necessary. Such a rage player. - Missa: Bard of Time - Missa is really failgirl I know quite a few people haven't like... watched much of his MC stuff. However you should check out when he had to be placed in a box to fish by himself so he wouldn't die a third time in Minecraft Extremo. He's a perfect Bard, and then he does music. Great set up for a Time player. Wouldn't want it any other way. - Antoine: Seer of Void - truly. Truly. A guy I looked at for two minutes and immediately knew what classpect he needed. That scene where he just like lightly questioned Cellbit after he escaped the federation and it made Cellbit so nervous he started just saying things that made him look way more nervous than necessary? Core Antoine moment for me. The fact he has a basement filled with so much writing on every candidate? The fact he hides his true face so much? We don't even know what's going on there? Void Player. Seer. So fitting it's beautiful to me. - Felps: Maid of Breath - Look, breath is THE aspect of freedom and doing what you want at your own pace. I think I would be committing a cardinal sin if I DIDN'T make Felps a breath player. - Tazercraft: Witch of Doom & Page of Time - They get to do a fucked up glitch timeloop. With these two classpects they can literally do whatever they want forever. Witch of Doom is a classpect that you give to a character if you know they can rip everything to shreds, have fun doing it, but wouldn't (usually) use it to actively hurt people out of true malice (for no reason) (a witch can DEFINITELY respond negatively if push comes to shove). Page of Time is so funny as a classpect also. Just like... Look up what the Page godtier outfit looks like. You'll see what I mean... And why Pac is a page. - Rubius: Waste of Breath - This classpect sounds really mean, sorry. I promise I like Rubius. He's supposed to be a stand in for what the Hussie author insert was in Homestuck, opposing Doc Scratch and fighting him. Hussie was a Waste of Space, I wanted to keep the pun with waste here. Breath worked the best. The federation has a Lord of Blood ability to counter him. Neither of these two count for the main classpect total.

One day I might post a copy of the google sheet and link it for more in-depth reasonings for every character, but like... almost everyone had reasonings like this where we spent waaay too long analyzing everyone LMAO. This is getting long as is, so I'll cut off classpecting here.

DREAMING MOONS

I am about to say something that will make people either really mad or really happy. There is no canon true definition of what assigns you a dreaming moon in Homestuck's text. The only thing we can glean from canon about which moon you get is that Prospit humans make their bed in the morning, and Derse humans don't. Needless to say, this doesn't help when you want to individually give each person a dreaming moon, but it IS great news for me: it makes assigning dreaming moons based on dividing the cast in half really, really easy. That is how it worked for the troll session, it was cut in half with teams, and then assigned based on red team vs blue team. So that is what I did here. All of the English speakers were given Prospit, and all of the Hispanic side were given Derse. This has lore relevance. We'll get back to it in a moment.

Also for note, the Federation is Prospit, with Dersite carapacians being a more nebulous identity against the Federation. Hispanic side was given Derse because they just seem more like Derse guys. Plus the whole Time on Derse/Space on Prospit theme going on in original HS canon is something I kinda wanted to go along with.

Quackity was given dual dreamer, with one of his dreamselves being ElQuackity, hence why he isn't listed. To balance this, we had to make another dual dreamer, and figured handing it to Kameto, who basically is permanently lost in the void, would be a good balance.

The French and Brazilian sessions were assigned using the "well this character would make sense here" method.

Server/Client Orders & Session Chains

If anyone needs a brief refresher, a client is the person you get into a sburb session, and a server is the person gets you into the session. Everyone is a client and a server to someone different. (tl;dr John was Rose's client, Rose was John's Server.) THAT BEING SAID! It means the loop for sessions close once you're all connected to both a client and a server. There are three separate sessions here, and one of them is a mobius double reacharound.

For clarity, the arrows mean: Client <- Server

The Original session, the mobius double reacharound, is the Spanish-English session. The order is

Quackity <- Mariana <- Spreen <- Roier <- Missa <- Vegetta <- Maxo <- Luzu (<- BBH)

BBH <- Foolish <- Slimecicle <- Jaiden <- DanTDM <- Fit <- Philza <- Wilbur (<- Quackity)

Because of the nature of a Mobius Double Reacharound, it means BBH and Quackity enter the session first, by technicality. The first person in a session is also the person who does the ectobiology. Unlike the troll session which only had Karkat as the ectobiologist, if Q!Quackity were the sole ectobiologist, no clones would be made and everyone would be stuck in a paradox, so I think it's funnier if BBH and Q had to work together on Ectobiology. I find their dynamic hilarious. Anyway, Luzu and Wilbur had to be the last in their respective chains, because no one else would be able to enter.

The next chain is the Brazilian closed Session, which is

Forever <- Mike <- Pac <- Felps <- Cellbit (<- Forever)

As previously mentioned, Pac e Mike (uou uou) have very good classpects to make up for the fact they have no space player. I'll come back to this.

The final chain is the French closed session. It goes

Baghera <- Antoine <- Etoiles <- AyPierre <- Kameto (<- Baghera)

They have balanced moons! They have a space player! They have a seer even! Both light and void! However, in missing a time player, they are forever doomed to fail the session.

LANDS OF PLANETS AND PARTNERS

Now I can finally explain actual lore. My apologies for making you read about 1000 words before this.

The Hispanic-English session is glitched. There is not a planet for each person. They have to share planets with a person from the opposite dreaming moon, generating lands that are a combination of two different aspects entirely. The planetary pairings for this prime session are the same pairings used for the initial egg pairings.

I really love designing lands for Sburb AUs it's my favorite thing in the world. The first one is the Land of Acid and Alcohol, Slimecicle (Heir of Heart) and Mariana's (Maid of Doom) land. Its oceans are acid and gasoline, and then covered in bottles that are a Russian roulette of alcoholic beverages, and then Molotov cocktails! The second is the Land of Steam and Dreams, Roier (Witch of Blood) and Jaiden's (Seer of Hope) land. It's filled with buildings built in an industrial revolution style architecture, playing on how people could believe in social mobility and "making it" in that time period, while also being reliant on heavy metallic machinery! I have a lot of fun conceptualizing lands.

The session's glitches don't stop at the planetary pairings on their own however, and it continues when Luzu attempts to enter the session. The session glitches from him being BBH's client, where it refuses to match pairings if they're connected directly, as the game would be unable to generate the gates above each player's house, it would simply loop back to connecting with the same Land. Luzu ends up being paired onto Quackity's land because of this, because the Game still detects him as having a dreamself on the opposite moon, even if he technically has both.

This causes BBH and Wilbur's land to glitch, and they end up paired together (as a bit of a nod back to how BBH and Wilbur were initially intended to be paired, before admins just made a new egg for Wilbur). We'll get back to this in a bit.

Some other lands from the AH session I enjoy are - The Land of Lush Forests and Iridescent Lakes, also known as LOLFAIL, BBH and Wilbur's land, which is a double Life player land, so the oceans are filled with gemstones and the land is covered in the most dense forest imaginable. It has the most difficult underlings spawn on it compared to any other land in the Anglo-Hispanic session. - The Land of Frogs and Typhoons, Spreen and Fit's land, which every space player is guaranteed frogs as part of their land, combined with Spreen being a breath player, it is a constant hurricane with frogs in it. They do not work on trying to calm the storm. They just start killing the frogs. There are so many frogs. The frogs are constantly flying at anyone who enters the land. Fit's slogan is FTF. Thank you to crow qsmp-yaoi for saying this idea because it truly brings me to tears every time I think about them being hit by those frogs flying at Mach 10. - The Land of Synapses and Static, Maxo and DanTDM's land. It's a darkened land, caused by Maxo's void, and then covered in a blanket of constant fog so thick a lighthouse can barely cut through it. The land also has mimicking noises to make familiar sounds to any player that steps on it, caused by Dan's Mind. It is an overbearingly lonely land. One where you understand what it truly feels like to be alone. One where you can lose someone as soon as you take your eyes off of them. Maxo last saw Dan on this land. No one else has seen him since.

I'm going to stop myself here, but I might come back and draw some more Land illustrations for these, haha.

Denizeggs

With the planetary partners, you might have seen this coming. Each planet in the combined session is missing a Denizen. Instead, what each player finds at the heart of the land is a little egg they need to help raise. They all find eggs at different points, however. Some people find their egg before they godtier, some find them afterward.

All of the eggs correspond to the land of their respective parents, however Luzu joins into the session too late to ever meet Tilin, second to last of the chain, she's already dead by that point.

And then the final major glitch in starting this session, when Wilbur joins as the final member of the chain, and enters, the only land open is BBH's land. Due to the nature of Sburb already knowing how things would end, it was always going to be this way, and there was no other option on who's planet he would join. The game glitches again, and detecting a second Prospit player, spawns in a new Denizen: Tallulah.

The eggs generally follow how they were in QSMP proper. Some of them die early. Some of them don't. Juanaflippa is as tragic as she is in canon. Two dads who are just bad at raising a child and it would have never worked out. Slime still kills Tilin by accident. Spreen doesn't care about Ramon, ditched him etc you know how it goes. The eggs are partially a planet quest too, so it's best if the eggs do live here.

Also in the glitches with this, there's a lack of consorts on any of the combined planets. There are a few, but not really as common as canon proper would have.

BRAZIL! 🇧🇷

The Brazil Session is a closed session between the five Brazilians. One of the requirements to complete Sburb is that you need a Space player (required to have forge in order to complete the final genesis frog & launch it into creating a new universe) and a Time player (required to keep the session in the proper timeline). The Brazilians have a time player (Pac), so they're halfway there!

There's some hiccups along the way. Mostly just Cellbit accidentally killing Felps and having to sprite him so Mike could make him a robot body to live in, but same old same old etc. Pac and Mike also kill each other by accident, but some other stuff happens there.

They still don't have the main aspect to actually continue the session, realize this, and also have a guy with one of the most conceptually powerful classpects to exist in terms of being able to glitch a game and save everyone. They manage to contact the primary session, reaching out to two grieving parents who are desperate to do anything to revive their daughter, one of whom is also a very powerful Doom player.

Brazilian Lands (brief edition)! - Land of Vultures and Culture, Forever's land, is a Hope land based around having Forever work to help save consorts who are hiding beneath intense structures and live in very isolate communities from each other. There's also massive megafauna in the skies that are always trying to kill them. - Land of Electronics and Experiments, Mike's land, is a pretty typical doom land, based around Chume labs, and has a constant lightning storm overhead - Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, Pac's land, is a combination of a land quest he has to get through, and a typical time land. All time lands have a clockwork or a music theme, I think him having a hot pink land that's massive amounts of dollhouse rooms attached to each other he has to make it through is just a fun concept. - Land of Cloud and Sky, Felps's world, is just a land with everything high in the sky. His whole quest is about him harnessing his ability to go with the flow to connect his consorts together. This is hard when he's sprited himself after dying upon entering due to Cellbit fucking up and accidentally killing him, and living in a robot body built by Mike. Aradia style. - Land of Searchlight and Bone, Cellbit's world, is a giant panopticon style prison. With so many bones, both decorating the prison, and filling the prison cells. His final moment is when he gets to the office of the panopticon, and it is his quest bed. He has a whole ordeal over it.

RICARLYSON! So these guys have regular consorts and Denizens, Richarlyson spawns in the heart of Skaia, and gives the quest for the other five guys to raise him.

Pac (Page of Time) has the ability to manipulate time as he wants once he realizes his abilities. Mike (Witch of Doom) can rip a hole in the universe so big it saves all of the players and sets them smack in the middle of another session, especially a previously contacted session with the connection being a Maid of Doom. With a time player land as well, they get a scratch construct on the Land of Dancefloors and Dollhouses, setting up their ability to scratch their session and set loose a whole new universe where theirs once stood.

French

The French session has probably the most normal planets of everything going on here, what really starts their journey going awry is that they have no time player.

Antoine, being a Seer of Void, can see something is going wrong. He makes contact with people outside of their session in an attempt to restore things to balance. He goes off into the veil and contacts the horrorterrors, and sets up a connection between two Doom players who seem they both desperately need it.

While he's doing that, the rest of the French proceed to have the most normal Sburb session out of anyone. Etoiles is having a great time on his planet. Aypierre gets a genesis tadpole. Kameto has two backup lives.

French Planets (Brief Edition) - Land of Apples and Airplanes, Baghera's land! It's probably the nicest land of anyone's. There are many jokes about how she doesn't get why everyone keeps complaining about their lands being horrible until she reaches theirs. - Land of Sham and Soil, Antoine's land, it's a dark land with tall dirt towers that make it impossible to see where you step. You'd need to be someone who could find where you're going in the pitch dark to even survive here. - Land of Bonds and Breakouts, Etoiles's land, is a land of a giant maze dungeon labyrinth. It's a nightmare for everyone but him. He loves it. - Land of Bogs and Frogs, AyPierre's land, is a land with frogs in a very thick swamp. I'll be honest i Just need to cook on this one some more. - Land of Hidden Leaves and War, Kameto's land, is a Naruto joke.

POMME! Is like Richas she's in the middle of Skaia. An easter egg if you will.

The French session is brought into the primary session when Antoine manages to contact with everyone else fully, rather than quietly watch from the outside. Etoiles and Baghera lose their original selves, and are their dreamselves when the universes collide in, and were unable to godtier, due to not knowing about the quest slabs.

GODTIERING! & the rest of the chronological story

THIS is the order of the godtiers from the beginning of the Spanish-English session. Anyone in the other sessions who godtier before their universe collide event has a red numeral to keep them distinct. I feel pretty strongly almost everyone would godtier here, they're all characters based on gamers. Sburb au works exceptionally well when you know everyone's gaming style.

Also, yeah I have notes listed on each godtier order for how each person dies. Like it's that detailed atp.

Spreen has the highest kill count out of everyone on purpose. I think he'd be down to cut his friends down knowing they'd be revived immortal afterward. As well as, the federation is Prospit in this scenario, they want everyone to godtier. I think him playing to what they want out of him feels his style. Anyway, he sprites his own dreamself due to ElQuackity messing with timeloops. To make his living player self trust him, Spreensprite convinces him to godtier Roier first. It is himself he's talking to, after all. Roier becomes the first godtier in any universe, and not out of his own volition. After seeing it really did work with Roier, Spreen godtiers himself. He gets li'l bear ears ala Jade getting doggy ears with her dreamself sprited, he threw in a Rubius cubito to his kernelsprite first. I like the bear ears I'm biased .3. q!Spreen being really fun in a Sburb concept is why I got hooked on this au after all.

After the first lore is repeated, BBH godtiers himself by decapitating himself with a sendificator to fuck with Foolish. He's kinda bitter about getting beige clothes. He befriends the midnight crew at least. This is before he has Dapper. He finds out about godtiering from Roier by accident and then is like. Oh I have the BEST idea.

Vegetta is killed by Spreen by request, wanting to be stronger to protect Leo, and then Spreen godtiers Missa in order to use his time powers on Derse to throw his dreamself at the kernelsprite, locking the time loop. Anyway, Missa is essentially locked in a tower on Derse's moon after this, now permanently in his Dreamself's body, who hadn't awoken prior. Fit realizes people are walking around in weird clothes, hears about it vaguely from BBH, sends a text to Spreen who'd been ghosting him, and goes like. Hey man. Wanna kill me? And gets his first reply in months.

Phil is attacked by an overpowered monster and almost dies, and Missa manages to get the message to Fit that this is happening through time shenanigans, and Fit manages to get him to his questbed before he fully dies and loses his dreamself. Phil is not happy about this and could not be angrier. He doesn't blame Fit though it's like a self anger thing.

THE BRAZILIAN CASCADE HAPPENS! PEOPLE DIE. By which I mean Slimecicle and Mariana work together to try to help the Brazilians into the session in a bid at saving Juanaflippa, hoping one of them have the ability to revive her. Slimecicle is murdered in the crypts of Prospit by Quackity in a duel, where he cuts off Quackity's arm in exchange for Quackity cutting down his life. Truly one of those luck moments where Charlie dies on his questslab. Mariana is murdered at the same time by Spreen, who is now fully working under orders from the Federation.

Pre-cascade, Pac and Mike both godtier, because they stumble into a stable timeloop, by Mike accidentally glitching Pac's questslab into throwing it at him and killing him. He godtiers with this. Now, as a fully godtiered page of time, they make it to Mike's questbed, and godtier!Mike nudges Pac's slab at Past!Mike to pick up and throw when fucking around with powers.

Felps godtiers in the cascade along with Mariana and Slimecicle, they leave behind Derse and its moon, and they both get destroyed. Where his body sleeping on the quest slab godtiers. Aradia style. Except... as a Maid of Breath, his robot sprite body doesn't explode. He just sort of... exists in both. When one falls asleep the other wakes up. The rest of the Brazilian session just assumes the Cascade fucked with his robot body's energy sources. He kind of just figures each side is a weird dream he keeps having.

Cellbit is staunchly anti-godtier, while Forever wants someone he trusts to godtier him. Cellbit refuses to godtier Forever, and causes a major fight between them. Then Spreen murders Cellbit into his godtier under orders from the Federation, which is preceded by a long Scooby-doo-esque chase, where BBH sees them both, and decides to follow. BBH is a fully godtiered Knight of Life here, he has resurrection powers for other players, and Spreen is functionally immortal as well. BBH 100% catches up to him after he kills Cellbit, and proceeds to put Spreen in a torment nexus of dying and undeath. Thus ends the Killing Spree(n).

AND THEN THE FRENCH CASCADE HAPPENS! The final session connects, and Baghera sacrifices herself to make it happen. After they make it in, they learn about Quest slabs, and there's a whole thing with Etoiles dramatically getting her to her questslab before she fully dies. Etoiles then proceeds to go kill himself on the questslab immediately after. Felps is also hanging out with the French, they found him hanging out in the void and take him with them. They lose Kameto in the void however, nobody's really sure where he went.

Pre-French Cascade, Antoine is the only French player to godtier, and no one will explain how it happened. It seems like no one really knows, but Etoiles keeps saying more fantastical descriptions every time someone asks. He's never taken his seer hood off of his face.

Back in the order of the godtiers, Forever befriends Baghera, and eventually her and Etoiles and Cellbit help him godtier. It's a whole event. Richas is having a blast.

Bobby dies, and Jaiden decides to godtier in order to get into the Federation's good graces, as well as out of guilt of feeling that if she were stronger and godtiered she could have saved him. Roier godtiers her.

AyPierre is godtiered in a tragic accident with one of his many machines. Etoiles helps pull him to his quest bed. He's a Thief of Space he has fun with it.

Foolish is the second to last person to godtier, and he is godtiered by Pomme by accident. He wanted his godtier to be as cool as possible, and somehow managed to not godtier by this point. It's just very him. He's down with the page pants.

Quackity is the final member to godtier. BBH kills ElQ at one end of the universe with the aid of Maximus. Slimecicle kills the regular QQ in one final duel.

At the end of the universe, the only people left alive and able to contact the rest of the sessions to never godtier are Wilbur and Maxo.

DanTDM disappears on the Land of Synapses and Static, never to be seen again, along with Turnip following soon after.

Luzu finds a glitch and is absorbed by it not long after he enters.

Nobody is really sure if Kameto godtiered or not.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

We're currently working on figuring out sprites for everyone, so hey! I might come back and add an update on that, but this post is so long my computer is lagging. I have a gaming laptop. It shouldn't be doing that. Here's some stuff on the sprites we do have + some misc notes.

Cellbit's flashlightkind is like how Kanaya's lipstick works. It's a chainsaw.

Spreen has Spreensprite, BBH has Skeppysprite, Missa has a sprite that is a mysterious skull sprited twice called Skullskullsprite, and Roier has his dog with a spiderman called Dogmansprite, and Jaiden has Arisprite, who's Miku & Ari combined :D (thanks icarus!)

It is 5 am as I finish typing this and queue it. I think I started typing this at 5 pm yesterday. Feel free to comment any thoughts you have or play around in this au! Also feel free to @ me if you do, either on my main mcyt blog (@etoilesbienne), or here!

qsmpstuck tag on my art blog / qsmpstuck tag on my regular mcyt talk blog

#qsmp #qsmpstuck #qsmp au #qsmp homestuck au #mcytstuck

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i-wanna-die-like-now · 1 year

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Bnha x dp Headcanons:

Danny absolutely loves to spend time with Tokoyami because he just gets his dead jokes and dark humour (and reminds him of Sam who he misses)

When he takes the entrance exam he's overwhelmed with the need to protect everyone even though he's 80% sure UA wouldn't actually put them in any real danger. His obsession doesn't understand that though.

Midoriya has a field day learning about his 'quirk' and when he's finally revealed to be half dead he has a million questions about ghosts and the zone, Danny really enjoys talking about it because his parents don't listen and he is a scientist too damn it.

He bonds with Todoroki almost immediately because he knows what it's like to hate his power (ghostly wail) and he knows what it's like to not want to end up like someone. He ends up also bonding over some trauma about their home life later on.

He helps Uraraka with the nausea she gets because he's been there.

Eri reminds him of Dani and it caused him to have a breakdown when he was alone, he begged Clockwork to let him go home to see her.

During the first part of the sports festival he could have just created a portal or telported to the finish but he wanted to watch everyone so he flew over them and finished 4th.

Bakugou absolutely hates Danny because there's just something off about him that only HE is seeing apparently, he can feel him holding back in every fight and Bakugou can't help but get pissed off at that. When Danny's halfa status is revealed he loses most animosity he has towards him. (Because ofc Danny was holding back he's op as fuck)

Aizawa hates that his quirk doesn't get rid of any of Danny's and he hates how Danny is the type of hero to sacrifice himself to save the people he's saving (he has his hands full with Midoriya) when it comes up Danny had actually died he feels his blood run cold and Oboro flashes in his head.

When Danny started joking and doing quips in fights he gets mixed reactions but because he does them everyone enjoys watching. (Bakugou took that as a sign he wasn't trying hard enough)

Danny has chronic pain in his arm that touched the portal and has a glowing green lichtenberg figure that runs up to his shoulder. Sometimes he can still feel the electricity and it can send him into a panic attack.

^Kaminari makes an effort to never touch Danny after he found out about that, which makes Danny feel horrible because he knows how touchy the blonde is.

He sometimes just goes to Koda and sits with him in silence because his senses are getting overwhelmed and he has animals he can pet.

When Sato or Bakugou cooked for him the first time he made an off hand remark about how he's glad it didn't come to life and it made everyone freeze.

Mirio is in awe of how Danny can keep his senses and clothes when he's intangible and it made Danny realise how lucky he was. When he made Mirio intangible by touching him it made his day and then multiple people asked him if they can try it.

^He also gets asked if he can make them fly and invisible so they can experience it too.

Danny can make Hagakure visible because double invisibility evens out (idk just think it'll be fun), they tired it because Midoriya was curious of what would happen and it made Hagakure cry.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fandom #my hero academia #boku no academia #bnha #dp x bnha #my hero headcanons #danny phantom headcanon #danny phantom hc

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the-way-of-words · 4 months

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Flustered//Nick Folio prompt fic

Nick Folio x Female Reader

Content warnings: casual drug use, unprotected P in V sex, semi public sex, mentions of oral sex, mentions of using emergency contraception (this is a pro choice blog)

contains sexual situations with a fictionalized version of a real person. this is rpf. none of this is real. but if its not your jam, keep scrolling.

So apparently if you have an answered ask scheduled and then you try to move it to drafts, tumblr will just delete the whole thing. But, hey. Hi, anon. Here I am with your prompt fic (smut prompts found here)... about six months later.

If you'd like to request something and are up for possibly waiting, my inbox is back op

Thanks to Illy for being an awesome beta and catching my mistakes 💚

tagging: @throwingmetothelions @agravemisstake @ladyveronikawrites @jxstthisonce @cncohshit @kingdomof-omens

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my works just ask.

Master list can be found here

~~~~~~~

It’s been years since you’ve seen him, since you’ve both been back in town at the same time, and yet here you both are, sitting in your backyard in the hottest part of summer. The heat was miserable, but that wasn’t going to stop your parents from throwing their annual barbeque, especially not with you and your brother home at the same time.

It didn’t take long for him to show up, and you don’t know if he was home for a visit, or if he came just because your brother called. But you can’t help the way your heart stutters when you walk into the backyard and see him sitting there, engrossed in conversation with your brother, your cheeks coloring when he finally glances over at you. You clear your throat, quickly trying to shake the way your heart skips a beat when he does a double take, because even behind those sunglasses you can see the way his eyes rove your body; taking in every change since he saw you last.

There aren’t a lot of things your brother doesn’t know about you; it's hard to keep secrets from the person you came into the world with, but with Nick Folio, you have more than enough.

Your brother still doesn't know about that time right before graduation when his best friend snuck up to your room where you were waiting for him. Doesn't know that his best friend buried his head between his sister's thighs, using his tongue and fingers to bring her off before using her slick to ease the way as he jerked himself off. He definitely doesn’t know that you took pictures of your cum covered tits to send to Nick sporadically over the next month or so.

It was never more than that, a few flirty texts here, a conversation or two that skirted the boundaries there. All culminating in that one moment of need, and then he was gone, sequestering himself with his new band. But that's okay, he wasn’t the only one off to bigger and better things, anyway.

But a year later, you found yourselves in the same city for the night; the cheap hotel sheets scratching against your knees as you rose and fell above him. his hands burning like a firebrand on your waist, urging you on until you both found your release. He left early the next morning, with nothing but the bruises on your skin and the red lines from your nails on his as proof that anything ever happened.

Your dress sticks to your thighs when you sit down and you can feel the heat of his gaze even as he and your brother talk about the last time they went fishing, his eyes stuck on your inked skin as you try to keep your composure. It used to be a favorite pastime of his, to see how quick he could get you to blush. I love making you flustered, he’d say whenever he’d get your cheeks to turn pink; it’s cute. But you like to think you’ve grown up in the years since then, and you’re determined to not let Nick Folio get to you.

You’re proud of how long you stick it out, putting up with his wandering eyes as the three of you catch up, and it’s nice. The years have made it easy to forget how much you missed having him around. But just when you begin to think you’re in the clear, he corners you in the back of the shed after you slip away once the sun starts getting low on the horizon and people start saying their goodbyes. His voice sounds loud in the quiet space as he interrupts you lighting up a joint.

“Figured I’d find you here.” For the first time this afternoon, he looks unsure of himself, the usual swagger missing as he stands in front of you, hands buried in the pockets of his black jeans.

Your eyes roll skyward as you inhale, pulling the smoke deep into your lungs before you turn to look at him. “Busted.” A smirk pulls onto your face and you shrug, tilting your face back to avoid blowing the smoke into his face.

Maybe you should have picked a different place for a smoke, but your feet took you to the only place you knew you would be undisturbed. However, it also just so happened to be where you, your brother, and Nick would kick back in high school. Old habits die hard, you guess.

“Did you follow me here to stare some more?”

It seems to startle him out of whatever nerves were holding him back, and he huffs, a smile pulling at his mouth. He rolls his shoulders, standing up a little straighter. “I don’t know what you're talking about,” he says, even though his eyes track down to where the joint sits between your lips as you take another hit.

You scoff, a biting retort sitting on the tip of your tongue, but before you can get it out, he steps into your space, electricity sparking at your fingertips when he pulls the joint from you to bring to his own mouth. His intense gaze burns against your skin as you step back, leaning against the old workbench your dad stopped using ages ago. You look around the small space, trying to ignore the way his arm brushes against yours when he settles next to you. Your parents moved out the old couch you and brother found free in front of the neighbors a year after you left for college, boxes now filling the space once occupied by the milk crates the three of you used as a makeshift coffee table.

But being here with him at your side quietly reminiscing as you pass a joint back and forth almost makes you feel like you’ve been transported back in time.

“You ever think about that night in St. Louis?”

The peaceful moment shatters just as you inhale a mouth full of smoke, choking on it as it makes its way down your throat. You cough, trying to cover it up before you take a deep breath and scoff as you hand the blunt back to him. “What? As if you do?”

Out of the corner of your eye, he shrugs, takes another hit, “Sometimes.” Your eyes are drawn to his mouth as he blows the smoke out, and for a moment, you remember just how soft his lips were compared to the scrape of his teeth. The smoke curls between you and you try to think of something, anything else, to avoid the heat growing between your legs as you reach for the joint. But instead of passing it over, he holds it back.

“Are you really withholding my own shit from me?”

“Answer the question and you just might get it back.” He straightens his arm when you go for it again, holding the blunt out just beyond your reach. You know he has no intention of doing what you ask until he gets his answer, and contrary to popular belief, Nick Folio has the patience of a saint if it’s going to get him what he wants.

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips and your eyes roll as you cross your arms. You level him with a look and throw his own response back at him. “Sometimes.”

He smirks. “Only sometimes?”

As much as you forgot how much you enjoyed his company, you also seemed to have forgotten what an absolute annoying shit he could be. Because he knows how to push; knows exactly how to dig to get under your skin. However you’ve been here before, played this same song and dance with him over the years, and this time, you refuse to give in. You can tell the minute he realizes he won’t get any more out of you.

He sighs, squinting your direction as he tilts his head. “You know, you used to be a hell of a lot easier to crack.”

Your head tilts and you shrug. “People change.”

“You certainly have.” He snorts, exaggerating the way his eyes move over you, just like they have all day. “You didn’t have any of these the last time I saw you,” your breath hitches when one of his fingers traces the shape of the snake on your right thigh, almost hoping he’ll follow the lines of ink up under your skirt. Disappointment curls in your stomach when the warmth of his hand slips away and he must notice because his mouth is curled into a smirk when your gazes meet, his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek, “and you blush nowhere near as easily as you used to.”

Like prey caught in a predator’s sights, you freeze, holding your breath as he studies your face, only feeling free to exhale when he takes a step back. You gesture to the dying joint in his hand refusing to focus on the butterflies swirling in your belly. “Okay, I answered your question, can you give me my shit back and let me finish it out in--”

You pause mid sentence as you watch him take a hit, anger flaring in your chest as you watch him finish it off. “Are you fucking kidding me??”

You scoff when he crooks his finger, but all he does is tilt his head, raising an eyebrow and it’s almost as if you can hear him goad you. C’mon. You know you want to.

And perhaps you shouldn't. You've indulged this for too long, despite your better judgment, you do. “Fine,” you mutter, pushing off the workbench and into his space. He cups your face in his hands, his lips brushing against yours as he blows the smoke into your open mouth. You’re not sure if it's the marijuana or his closeness, but you feel dizzy as you inhale, hands gripping his wrists to steady yourself.

You’re very aware of the fact that he moves first, walking you back against the workbench, but you meet him halfway; slotting your mouths together and slipping your tongue between his parted lips. He groans, fitting his body against yours as he nudges his thigh in between yours and heat sparks anew in your belly when he presses the thick muscle against your core.

You pull away from his mouth to hoist yourself up, spreading your thighs as soon as you’re settled and pulling him back against you.

Your hands move on autopilot, tugging open his pants and shoving his underwear down as he pulls you to the edge of the tabletop. He hooks two fingers in the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side and slips the head of his cock inside you. Your mouth falls open with a quiet gasp at the stretch, head falling back as he sinks himself deeper and deeper until you’re flush together.

Nick curses and cups the back of your head to pull you into a kiss as he grinds into you before breaking away.

“Shit,” his fingers drum against your thigh, “do—do you think there’s still some condoms in here?”

You snort. “Probably? But I don’t know how good they’d be. Last time any of us were in here was--”

“Senior year.” He finishes for you with an exasperated laugh. Nick sighs, squeezing your waist one last time before he moves to back away. But you don’t let him. Your feet lock behind his back and your thighs hold him close. Your name sounds like a benediction when it leaves his lips.

“You just said…”

“I know, but I still want to.” You say, rushing to add, “If you still want to.”

“Yeah?” There’s a blush on his cheeks as his dick kicks inside you and you can’t help yourself.

You skim a finger across the flushed skin. “I love making you flustered… It’s cute.”

“When did you get so damn mouthy?” He asks with a roll of his eyes, groaning quietly when you clench around him for a beat.

A self-satisfied smirk pulls on your mouth. “I’ve always been this mouthy. You’re just not used to it anymore.” You slide your fingers through the short hair on the back of his head as he huffs and pulls his hips back. “But if you cum in me, you’re buying me a Plan B.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He replies right before he thrusts back into you sharply.

While you’re aware how stupid this is, you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he wraps an arm around your back to hold you close as the table beneath you shudders and shifts with every thrust of his hips. Pleasure lights across your nerves as the new angle has his cock grazing along that one spot inside you that always works you closer to the edge.

“Oh, fuck.” You curse. “I’m gonna--”

“Yeah? You gonna cum?” You can hear the smirk in his voice as you nod. “C’mon, then, cum for me. C’mon,” he taunts quietly into your ear and you hate how it’s that easy, how you seem to do it on his command.

Your pussy clamps down on his shaft as your inner muscles work him and you bury your face in his neck to smother the noise you can’t hold back. His arm tightens around you and his rhythm slips, muttering a litany of curses until he suddenly stills, warmth flooding your cunt as he releases into you.

His forehead comes to rest against yours, your breath mingling as the two of you come down. It almost feels tender, this moment in the afterglow, and it's easy to get lost, to let the rest of the world fall away where the only things that matter are him and you here together. But the world comes rushing back when you hear your brother's voice right outside the shed, sending the two of you scrambling away from each other.

You hold your breath as you pull your dress back down, straightening it out while Nick rushes to pull his pants up. He gets his belt buckled just in time for your brother to round the boxes blocking you from view.

“Heyyy,” you try to keep your voice steady and aim for a casual air, but it’s no use. Not for the first time, you find yourself cursing the twin intuition as he crosses his arms and levels the both of you with a look.

“Really dude? My sister??”

Your and Nick’s voices mix together as you both try to spout off some excuse, but your brother just holds his hand up, waiting for you to fall silent before he sighs. “Have you guys been hooking up this whole time since St. Louis?”

“What?! No. Absolutely not!”

“How do you know about that?!”

You speak at the same time again and you swear you watch your brother age at least five years, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I honestly don’t know which option I dislike more… Did you really think Janey wouldn’t tell me—fuck.” He cuts off, eyes wide. “I owe her twenty bucks.”

“Did you and your wife really bet on us?” Nick asks incredulously.

“You,” Your brother’s finger points at Nick, “just fucked my sister. You don’t get to be offended.” He sighs again. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but, you hurt her, I will come after you, clear?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Good.” Your brother nods and turns to go, pausing to turn back and face you. “Actually, mom told me to tell you to stop smoking weed in the shed.”

You have the courtesy to at least wait until the door shuts behind him before you let the hysterical laughter burst forth, falling into Nick as it takes over and he joins you. The air feels charged when it finally subsides and your eyes meet. He regards you with a soft look, and it pulls at your insides. It almost feels like he’s going to kiss you again, but then he sighs.

“Come on.” He takes your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. “Pretty sure I owe you a trip to CVS.”

~fin.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #rpf #bad omens rpf #nick folio fic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio fanfic #nick folio x reader #nick folio/reader #nick folio smut #female reader #smut prompt fic

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

I got you

How did this happen? I don’t know. I’ve been watching my person play too much MW2, and then went looking for Ghost fics, so now my brain is infected.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley/female reader AO3 - Part one of the Sassy series 3.8k words - one shot Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Blood, violence, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, size difference/kink, creampie, hurt/comfort. Lots of swearing. Everyone is bad at feelings. Notes: EOD = Explosive Ordnance Disposal. He doesn't know your name. You've never seen his face.

It’s fucking hot. Belize is so hot. It’s the kind of hot that clings to every pore of your skin, the sweat slicking across your body until you’re shiny, breath coming in short pants because the air is so god damn thick.

“Sassy. Do you copy.” Soap’s voice rings over the comms, snapping you to attention. Your fingers slip on the button. Belize would probably be better if this was a vacation, and not an Op. A gnat whines next your ear, and you press your chin into your shoulder.

“I’m in position.” You whisper. “All clear.” An affirmative rings back as Price gives command to the others. You sit silent. Gaz spits something over the radio, but it's not directed at you, so it doesn’t register. You sit still.

You always sit still.

“You the demo expert?” The brunette with a Scottish accent and scarred chin looks you up and down.

“I’m a bomb tech.” you dead pan, eyes darting around the tent. There are only 3 others here. You were expecting a whole team. He chuckles.

“Suicide squad. Nice.” Another man, rises from where he’s sitting a few yards away. You recognize him immediately. Price.

“Sassy.” He extends his hand, and you grip it in yours.

“Captain.”

“It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming on such short notice.” You nod, managing to steal another look at the others. A younger guy sits on a table in the far corner, ball cap sitting on top of his head. A bigger man, broad, stands near an open flap, arms crossed across his chest, eyes watching you from behind the skull mask that’s pulled down his face.

You do a double take. For a second, you think he’s Mace. Your heart pounds in your chest. Price is speaking, but you’re not hearing a word. Your fingers curl into a fist as you shake your memories loose and refocus. The man in the skull mask doesn’t react, doesn’t even flinch in reaction to your odd behavior.

That’s not Mace.

So, it must be Ghost.

“I’ve got two making entry, east side.” You whisper into the radio, watching the men push through the door. You’re nowhere near a clean shot. You curse. “Soap. Come in.” The line is silent, and unease pools in your gut. “Captain, do you copy.” You call, the words cutting into the air. What is going on? “SOAP.” The word is a hiss that’s met with uncomfortable silence. Fuck.

“Why does the Captain call ya Sassy?” Soap asks one night. You’re outside under the bug net, sitting on a picnic table with him. Ghost looms ten feet away, a barely touched bottle of beer looking tiny in his massive hand. You smirk at the question.

“I’m a pain in the ass.” You say affectionately, lips curling into a smile. “But I’m also the best.”

“You’ve gotta be next level crazy to run with EOD.” Soap tilts his beer to his lips, polishing the rest off with a burp. “’Scuse me.” He stands, he stumbles, he dips into the dark where he can’t be seen. You hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper being pulled down.

“How long you been a bomb tech?” you whip your head around at the sound of Ghost’s voice, directed towards you. It nearly makes you stutter.

“A few years.”

“That all you do?” The presumption shocks you. Private sector or not, these guys were all the same. If you’re a bomb tech, you must not be able to handle a gun. You whirl on him fully, taking two steps in his direction, your own glass bottle pointed in your hand.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

He cocks his head.

“Can you shoot, Sassy?” your upper lip trembles as it curls in disdain.

“I can shoot your dick off if you’d like.” He’s still ten feet across the way, but you’re shaking with anger. You watch as the impression of the mask shifts, the bottom half of the skull moving with his lips.

He’s fucking smiling at you.

You’re about to let a stream of expletives fall from your mouth when Soap stumbles back under the net, face goofy and carefree. He draws your attention to a specific lightbulb, drunkenly mumbling something about its color that briefly distracts you.

When you look back at Ghost, he’s gone.

The men are setting charges against the exit door that the 141 is planning to use. “Damn it all to hell.” You curse, slinging your rifle over your shoulder and making a beeline off the roof. “I’m vacating.” You huff into the comms. “Inspecting demo charges, east side. Does anyone copy?” The radio silence is freaking you out. The 141 is practically a machine, for Christ’s sake. Methodical, clinical, well-practiced. A small infiltration should have been a piece of cake. You’re scurrying down a ladder when the radio crackles. Your diaphragm heaves in relief. Ghost’s voice fills your ears.

“Roger Sass. Keep me informed.” Me, not us. He’s slipping.

The door wasn’t locked.

The door wasn’t locked, and you really had to pee. These guys could piss in the yard, they could piss in a can, they could piss out the window of the truck for all you gave a shit. You needed a toilet.

You shouldered through the door, eyes down until you felt it slam against solid mass.

When you jerk your head up in confusion, all you see is black face paint and blonde eyelashes in the little mirror over the sink. The look in his eyes as he meets your gaze stuns you.

Ghost.

“Shit. Fuck.” You avert your gaze like you’ve seen him naked. Which is ridiculous, honestly. You didn’t even see the man’s whole face. “Sorry.” You mutter, turning on your heel.

“You’re alright, Sass.” He steps away from the sink. “I’m finished.” You stand halfway in the doorway, halfway in the tiny bathroom. You’re not even sure it is tiny, to be honest. It just looks small compared to his giant frame. You eye his bare hand, foreign to you without the glove, and swallow.

“Okay.” You turn to the side to give space for him to squeeze by you. He’s still wearing his tac gear, down to the tight-laced boots and vest. You already shed yours when you crossed the threshold of the tent, depositing it in the corner so you could breathe a bit. You shift when he passes, the roughness of his vest brushing against your thin sports bra and tank top. He’s looking down at you as he pauses in the doorway, with his head cocked to the side, brows lowered, eyes cataloguing your body. He lingers on the gash in your shoulder.

“Get that cleaned up.” It’s an order.

You swallow, even though your mouth is well past dry.

“I’m pushing towards the door.” You cross the street like a cat, slinking against the buildings and sticking to shadows. Soap chirps something over comms, but it’s too garbled to hear. You creep around the corner, ducking your head once to check for all clear before you’re crouched, walking slowly towards where you see the blinking charges. “I’ve got live explosives.” You wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead as you whisper into the comms. “Repeat. Live charges on east door.” It’s Price that answers you, a gunshot echoing from two floors above.

“Clear it, Sassy.”

“Copy.”

“I knew a guy.” You shrug nonchalantly, trying to play it off, but your eyes dart between the three of them.

“That wore a skull mask?” Gaz’s voice is incredulous, and you don’t blame him. It’s hard to believe. You nod. Ghost’s eyes watch you from the dark. They pin you down, marking your every move. You push it further.

“His name was Mace. I ran in a private company with him for a minute.” Soap visibly shifts, body angling towards his LT. Ghost’s hand flexes on his thigh. The fidget confirms your suspicions. You sip the last of your beer and beam it towards the rim of the metal trashcan. “It was short lived.”

They’re rudimentary. You’ve seen shit like this before, usually in IEDs, sometimes in homemade Semtex. You can practically hear your dad’s voice as you snip and pull wires. It’s like a dance. Watch your feet, or it’l go hot on ya. The lack of sophistication is laughable, and you’re pulling the first one off the door hinge in record time. You’re nearly congratulating yourself, all cocky and stupid, when you hear the telltale click of a gun.

The end of a barrel presses to the back of your skull.

“Don’t move.” You raise your hands slowly as the voice instructs you. “Turn around.” Your stomach bucks into your throat as you eye the man and his wild eyes. He looks desperate. Not good. “Those your guys up there?” He nods his head upwards. You stay still. You stay silent.

It started as a drinking game. You’d lose a hand; you’d tell a truth.

He’d lose a hand; he’d tell a truth. The half empty bottle of tequila lubricated you both, keeping you loose and easy, little pieces of your lives slipping your from lips without a care.

“You know mine.”

“Everyone knows yours, Simon.” You use it for affect. You can practically see him scowling under the mask.

“That’s what I want Sass, you lost. You spill.” He turns away from you and swipes the bottle from the table, lifting the bottom of the mask to take a swig. You sigh.

“Not going to happen. Pick something else.”

“Come on.. It’s just your name.” the gravel in his voice sends shivers across your skin.

“And it’s just your face.” His head jerks back in surprise, and he puts the bottle down on the table unfolding his giant legs from underneath the picnic table. He’s leaving. “Oh, come on.” You call at his retreat, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back at you.

“Well?” The man steps closer, and you eye the other charge that’s still live. You’re not good in these situations. You’re a bomb tech, not a people person. The gun barrel presses more firmly against your head.

“Ye- yeah. They’re mine.” He leers at you. He’s not the same as the other two, the guys who planted these charges. He’s someone else. Your radio crackles.

“Sass.” It’s Ghost. You close your eyes for a second and try to get a handle on yourself. You’ve been through way worse. Get it together. “Sass. You copy?” The man with the gun studies you for a second, before he’s reaching for your radio, ripping it from your tac vest as hard as he can. You watch as his finger presses on the comm button. You lunge, yelling in warning, hoping it makes it through the static. He spins, trying to dodge you but you reach for his gun, desperate to pull it from his hands before he can fire it. You hear shouting behind you, the heavy thud of familiar footsteps drawing closer as you wrestle over the weapon. You catch a glimpse of Ghost from the corner of your eye before the guy you’re fighting with is turning, barrel pointed right at your chest. Shit.

“How’d you get into bombs?” you laugh at the question, and then tilt your head and study him.

“I like puzzles.” His eyes flick back and forth behind the mask, watching you as you watch him. You decide to test it. “My Dad can’t do a crossword, but he’s got a way with wires. Passed it down to me, I guess.” He nods knowingly. You don’t say anything further. The air between the two of you feels thick, and it’s not just the heat.

“How’d you get into SAS?” he grunts.

“I’ve got a way with guns.”

Your eyes blink open slowly to the feel of your cheek being smashed against someone’s tac vest. The guys are shouting. An engine is roaring. Your abdomen is burning.

“Shit.” You slur, vaguely aware that you’re sitting in someone’s lap, arms supporting your body as the truck careens around a corner. “Shot?” your mouth struggles to form the word and you look down to see a massive hand pressed against your ribcage. Ghost’s hand. Your own fingers crawl over his. They’re wet. Blood.

“Don’t move, Sass.” His voice is low, and he only glances down at you for a second but you know. You can feel it in the way his palm presses into your wound. You can see it in the tick of his jaw. You groan.

“Fucker shot me?” Your tongue weighs a million pounds. Gaz swears nervously next you on the seat.

“You’re alright.” Ghost says, legs flexing as the truck takes another turn, trying to keep you from jostling too much. “You’ll be fine.” You nod your agreement. You feel thick fingers stroke through the hair at the crown of your head as you drift off, the world tinging to black around you.

“LT doesn’t call you Sassy.” Johnny muses. You stretch your arms in the chair, twisting your back in hopes of cracking it a bit.

“He doesn’t.” you confirm. It’s just Sass with Ghost. Always.

“Why?”

“Don’t know.”

You wake again when you get back, your body still pressed the Ghost’s chest as he powers through camp, practically running towards the med tent. Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion, and at superspeed. You can’t see straight. The fire shooting in your nerves makes you want to gag. There’s someone else, walking next to you. They’re speaking in low tones to Ghost, and they brush their hand along your shoulder like they’re trying to grab you. He barks something at them, curling your body closer to his, and then you’re slipping away again, closing your eyes to fall into darkness.

“Do you ever think about what’d you do, if you didn’t do this?” he shakes his head no, immediately.

“You?” you drink a swig of water, holding the bottle out to him. His fingers wrap around yours as he takes it.

“I think I’d like to work an office job. Something boring, you know. Uneventful.”

“You wanna be bored, Sass?” You shrug, and step closer, your hips brushing between his spread legs. He blows a breath out through his nose.

“I’m sure I could find a way to make it interesting.” You take another sip, letting a single drop slip from your bottom lip and down your throat. Ghost tracks it the entire way.

He doesn’t really speak to anyone for days after you wake from surgery. And when you’re finally moving around, back with the team, he acts like he can’t see you.

It’s weeks later, when you sit next to him at the top of the stairs of the new safehouse you all moved to. The rest of the team is down in the living room, crowded around the smallest TV that Gaz rigged, watching a soccer game.

“You good?” you ask and turn to him. He doesn’t respond, just stares at the peeling paint on the opposite wall. You reach out to him slowly, watching his eyes flicker in case it’s more than just, general brooding Simon. “Ghost?”

“He put a bullet in your ribs.” Oh. Oh.

“Shit happens.” You shrug and try to play it off.

“Shit doesn’t happen to you.” He turns to look right at you, something wild lurking beneath his skin. His hand shoots out and grips you by your collarbone, five fingers folding over it with ease. He could snap you in half. You swallow thickly.

He jerks your torso, moving you like a ragdoll until he’s leaning down into your face.

“Shit doesn’t happen to you.” he says again, and you nod. His grip is strong, and his blatant contact with your body heats something alive between your legs. Something the two of you have been dancing around until this point.

“Okay. Okay, Ghost. I got you.” You whisper. His ungloved hand comes up to press a thumb into your bottom lip, sliding it across the skin there. He’s wearing the mask, but you can see the blonde flutter of his eyelashes, eyes heavy as he regards you. You blink once, twice, before he’s hauling you up with both hands, wrapping an arm around your pliable body and pushing you into the shadow of the landing. For a moment, neither of you move, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay when he pushes you back against the wall, nose pressing into the curve of your jaw, fingers stroking the outside of your pants above your cunt. It stuns you, it thrills you, and you’re immediately trying to strategize how to get your hands inside his pants. He pats you softly and it’s not enough friction, so you push your hips towards him, fingers trying to loosen his belt. He grabs your wrist, and you look up at him. He’s staring at you differently, intensely, like he wants to pull you apart and put you back together. You gulp, and then he snakes his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants, down to the seam of your cunt. The pads of his fingers are calloused, and you bite down on your tongue as he strokes over your clit. Your body explodes with tiny little shocks, and you whimper, your lips pressing to the outside of the cloth stretched across his face. “You’re wet.” His voice is rough. “Y-yeah.” You stutter. “That’s what happens.” He growls. “Your mouth” he thrusts a finger upwards inside you, forcing you to gasp. “is annoying.” You lean your head back against the wall give him an open-mouthed smirk. “So shut me up then.” His head tilts, and something dark flashes across his eyes. You grin.

He’s got your pants down around your ankles, your face pressed against the cool stone of the wall, and a hand up your shirt, fingers twisting one of your nipples as the other swirls the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Fuck.” He growls above your ear, his cock breaching you, pushing steadily against your walls, slowly tearing you apart. Your cunt clenches around him, the burn of the stretch too good, and too much at the same time. His shoulders bear over yours, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

“Ghost.” You whine, palms slapped against the wall. His free hand moves to cover your mouth.

“Hush. You can take it. Hold still.” You freeze because, well, Simon says. You shriek against his hand as his cock pushes into your cervix. He’s so big. It hurts. It feels so good. He thrusts, dragging his cock down and then up, over and over until you’re a teary mess, grunts and whimpers slipping out between the lips you’re trying to keep closed. He pauses, fingertips lightly brushing over where gauze is still wrapped around your body. “Good?” he whispers above your ear, and you nod frantically.

So good. Too good. Don’t stop.

He fucks into you slowly, working you open with a patience that surprises you. His breathing is harsh and unsteady, one arm bracing against you to hold your body in place, the other pressing against your cunt, his fingers finding your clit with ease. It’s too much, and your body jolts backwards, nestling your ass deeper in waiting space between his hips. He holds your there, rubbing circles around your clit and sliding his cock in and out of you, the sounds your bodies are making together probably way too loud considering the team is sitting just downstairs. His hand releases your mouth, and you shove your face against the wall, desperate to find some leverage.

His lips press against the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. His lips without the mask. Your eyes widen as you make the realization, your brain putting it together as you feel his teeth nibble into you, lips sucking blood to the surface of your pores so he can mark you. You can’t turn your head to look, and even if you wanted to, you don’t think you would. He doesn’t even know your name. He groans into your skin, the feeling of his unmasked jaw pressing against you is something you’re going to be holding onto long after Belize. He strokes your clit, pushing and pulling your body towards an orgasm, your walls clenching down on him as he ruts against you.

“F-fuck, Sass. That’s it, good girl, that’s it. Come for me.” The praise electrifies you, and then you explode into a white-hot orgasm, coming with him lodged deep inside of you, his arm holding your twitching body against his. He fucks you through it, steadily, rushing after his own release, and he presses his nose into your hair as he whispers something unintelligible. Your orgasm is still lingering, every one of your nerves alive and on fire, and you’re a whimpering mess against him. The floor creaks under the steady movement of his hips, his body working yours relentlessly as he thrusts up into you until he’s coming, filling you up, shaking with your call sign on his lips.

“So, you gonna let me see your face now?” you’re sitting out back on a half stack of bricks, passing a beer back and forth. He turns every time to adjust the mask when it’s his turn for a sip.

“You gonna tell me your name?” you chew on your lip, and he nods, handing the bottle back to you as he stands. “I don’t need your name Sass. I’ve already got you.” His fingers stroke through your hair, the touch soothing and sweet, and you find yourself speechless.

“You don’t have me.” You rebuff him indignantly.

“That so? We’ll see.” He leaves you sitting outside with the beer, eyes staring daggers at his retreating back. It’s a different thing, to be had, to be known, in a world like this. You don’t know if you can do it. You don’t know if he can either. You glance through the screen door into the back of the house, where he stands leaned against a counter talking to Soap. His head tilts, and he finds you with that same gaze, the one he gave you when he had himself buried in your cunt. You shiver.

Okay, Ghost. I got you.

I’ve already got you.

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