#How Much To Build A Hangar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soaringthroughthegalaxy · 6 months

Note

Hello :) if your requests are still open:

This is my first time requesting something so please ignore this if I‘m doing something wrong.

I saw the 150 Random Writing Prompts and was thinking of a jealous Hunter smut. (Or Echo, if you find it more fitting)

With

143.: “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

And if it’s ok ( I could not decide, sorry)

97.: if you interrupt me one more time— so help me god”

93.: say you want me, and i’m yours.”

Thanks 🙏🏻 You are an awesome writer!✨

Thank you so much for the request, anon! You did nothing wrong at all! I was able to work in all three, but I’m incapable of writing anything short, so this is kinda long - oops. Hope you like it! <3

Bonus point if you spot the Taylor Swift lyric I managed to weave in!

Green Doesn’t Suit You

With the whole squad safely back on Pabu, you settle into a comfortable civilian life. But the yearly Celestialis festival, said to bring good fortune for the next year to those who attend, brings with it something you never thought you’d have.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Word count: 6.5k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: jealousy, friends to lovers, pet names, old lady shoving her oar in, Omega is a fantastic wing-woman, confessions of love, first kiss together, squint for possessiveness, being (lovingly) manhandled, first time together, oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, dirty talk, soft aftercare, all the fluffy feels.

The air was stifling, not only from the heat outside but the warmth emanating from both ovens in the kitchen of your new home on Pabu.

The house had been a gift – the fanciest gift you’d ever received – from Shep and the other island residents. A thank you for all the hard work you, the boys, and Omega had put into rebuilding their island after the freak tsunami.

All seven of you, living together in a space infinitely bigger than the Marauder or your old barracks. It was heaven.

“We still need to get those tanks moved.” Omega grumbled, grabbing a clean tray and loading it with the latest batch of cooled cookies you’d made. In the sitting room, just visible through the kitchen doorway, were two bacta tanks. Where Phee had managed to procure them from was still a mystery, but they’d saved Crosshair and Tech’s lives after you, Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker had stormed Mount Tantiss to rescue Omega and the twins. The brothers had been worse for wear – it was still a miracle Tech had survived his fall.

“I’ll speak to Phee in the morning.” You added it to your mental list, skirting around an open cabinet door.

Today was the Celestialis festival, where Pabu’s residents came together to wish for good fortune for the year ahead. Once Shep and the island’s organising committee had caught wind of how good your baking skills were, they’d pulled you into the fray. For weeks, you’d been planning and purchasing ingredients and trying different recipes. And for the last few days, you’d been baking all hours of day and night – with varying levels of assistance from Omega and her brothers.

Four years ago, when the war had broken out, you’d signed up as a civilian handler. Fresh out of college and with nothing lined up, it had seemed like a good idea. While other handlers stayed on Kamino and supported their squads from a distance, the moment you’d read the files for Clone Force 99, you’d known that you’d need to be at their side constantly. They had a habit of veering off track, and handling that from afar would only give you a permanent migraine. So, after signing a hefty waiver with the Kaminoans, you’d been handed some armour, a blaster, and directions to the hangar.

Three years, you’d fought alongside them, learning the best ways to manage them and their unique skill set, building bonds and friendships far deeper and more meaningful than anything you’d ever had before. This last year, since Order 66, had brought its own challenges, too, but it has also brought you Omega.

Grabbing another tray from a cupboard, you pass it over to the young girl, watching as she loads it up with more cookies. Sweat beads on the nape of your neck, and you sigh, lifting your hair to try and get some air to it.

Omega, forever perceptive, abandons the cookies to help tie your hair back. From a small pot on the counter, she goes to grab a hairband, but at the last minute, you redirect her to the strip of fabric that sits nearby, the two of you sharing a look.

It’s another hour before you’re ready to leave for the festival. The boys had headed out mid-afternoon to help set up, taking their dressier clothes with them to spare themselves the walk back to the house and to not get in your way as you finished up. As infuriating and stubborn as they could all be at times, their thoughtfulness was unparalleled.

Dragging wagons laden with treats up to the central plaza, you and Omega work quickly to lay out all the goodies on the tables Shep had set aside for you. You hoped there would be enough for everyone, especially as other food was on offer, too. Stepping back from the tables, you take a deep breath.

“Finally left the kitchen, eh?” Echo teases as he approaches, the rest of the boys in tow. He’d tried to help as best as he could over the last few days, but baking with one hand had been less than ideal. Ultimately, he’d sat at the kitchen table and kept you going with conversation and caff breaks. And he’d chased Hunter off a few times when that keen nose of his had brought him sniffing around for treats to ‘sample.’

You watch as Omega passes a star-shaped cookie over to Wrecker, and the delight on the big man’s face as he devours it fills you with pride. “If I step foot in that kitchen again at any point in the next two weeks, please shoot me.” You joke, the corners of your lips curling into a smile.

“Deal.” Crosshair teases, toothpick sliding to the other side of his mouth as he reaches for a Roonan lemon cookie. His appetite hadn’t returned much since his rescue from Mount Tantiss and time in the bacta tank, but he was trying to eat a little more each day so you wouldn’t worry about him.

“Hey!” You protest playfully, the boys chuckling as Crosshair takes a small bite, throwing you a wink. Light conversation flows between you all, broken up by the occasional island resident swinging by for some treats. The music starts, and more residents arrive, joining the festival’s spirit, dancing together and laughing.

Hunter can’t keep his eyes off you. For the last four years, he’s seen you in blacks and armour, with the recent addition of sweatpants around the house, and yet now you’re in a dress. A light and airy thing with delicate straps that cross over your shoulders, the fabric cinched in at your waist to accentuate the soft curves of your body. He’s sure it’s the same shade of aqua that paints his pauldrons, too. The thought has a strange sensation sweeping through his gut.

The sound of someone calling your name snatches his attention and drags his thoughts back to the present. As you turn towards the person calling for you, he can’t help but steal the opportunity to admire you. Eyes raking up your bare legs, across your hips and ass that he’s imagined grasping many times, over the smooth plane of your back to the curve of your neck and then…

The entire galaxy might as well cease to exist as his mind goes blank.

Wide brown eyes lock onto the scrap of red fabric keeping your hair up, and that strange sensation in his gut slams into him again. There, holding your hair up, is one of his spare bandanas.

His heart races, thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. A torrent of emotions surges within him. He wants to reach out to you, to pull you close and finally tell you how much you mean to him, but he holds himself back. He can't bear the thought of you not returning the sentiment. Maybe it had just been an accident. Maybe his bandana had been the closest thing available.

In the silence of his thoughts, he missed you excusing yourself to talk with one of the island’s elderly residents, who’d been calling you over.

“Smooth.” Crosshair deadpans, gaze flicking to Hunter as they watch you go, the rest of their siblings distracted by the food and music.

The slink of his brother’s voice pulls Hunter from his thoughts, and he frowns in Crosshair’s direction. “What?” He asks. They’d worked hard to reconcile ever since Crosshair had been deemed stable enough to leave the bacta tank – they’d broached difficult topics and mended a few bridges as they worked towards getting back to what they’d had before the Order had been given. It was slow and, at times, painful, but neither of them was willing to give up on each other again.

“You were staring at her like she’s pure aurodium. Not that I blame you…” Hawkish eyes slide towards Hunter, a smirk tugging at Crosshair’s lips as he watches his brother’s jaw clench and his head tilt, a hardness settling across his features.

Crosshair lets out a low chuckle, enjoying the slight rise he’d secured. “Green doesn’t suit you, vod.” He tosses the comment before snatching up a few more of your baked treats, striding away in search of a quiet place to perch. Crowds still bothered him, but he didn’t want to avoid the gathering altogether and feel like even more of an outcast.

Across the plaza, you’d reached Mrs. Magiere. The elderly lady had lived on the island for years and had slowly convinced her family to move across the galaxy and join her. She wandered the island around lunchtime, and you’d often crossed paths, sharing polite conversation.

Beside her stood an unfamiliar man. “There you are, dear. I want to introduce you to my grandson, Dax.” Mrs. Magiere reached for your hand, drawing you closer.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Dax.” You offered the man a smile. He was a little taller than you, with a slender build, perfectly coifed brown hair and piercing green eyes.

Dax tries to keep his gaze on your face, but his eyes betray him for a moment as he takes all of you in. You’re quite lovely, he must admit. “And you. My grandmother speaks very fondly of you.” He replies.

Mrs. Magiere looks between you both with glee. “Why don’t you two go and dance? My old bones can’t keep up anymore.” One of her hands finds your lower back, and she gives you a gentle nudge towards Dax.

Warmth sweeps across your cheeks caught off guard and a little uncomfortable, but Dax offers you a reassuring smile and his hand. Not wanting to cause a scene or upset anyone, you take it, letting him lead you towards the plaza’s centre where couples and families are dancing. He stops en route, snagging a delicate pink flower from one of the blossoming vines nearby. With careful hands, he slides it into your hair, leaning back to admire you.

“And here I thought you couldn’t be any more beautiful.” The compliment comes naturally to Dax as he retakes your hand, leading you to a small available spot amongst the dancing island residents.

The warmth in your cheeks grows, and all you can offer Dax is a small smile as he twirls you into his arms once you are amongst the crowd. Laughing softly, you let him lead, the few dance classes you’d taken at college helping you keep up with him.

“You did a wonderful job with the baked goods.” Dax lays another compliment on you, enjoying your bashful smile.

It felt good to be appreciated for all your hard work preparing for this evening, especially by those outside of your little family. “Thank you. What did you like the most?”

Turmoil rolls through Dax. Truth told, he hadn’t sampled any of the treats you’d so lovingly prepared, but he knew it was essential to compliment you. “The oat ones were delicious.” He takes a stab in the dark.

Your smile falters briefly before you fix it back into place. “I’m glad.” You lie in return, not pointing out that you hadn’t made oat cookies.

Standing off at the side of the plaza, it took no time for Hunter to find you amongst the crowd. Over the years, he’d memorised the sound of your heartbeat and the delicate whisper of your voice as the light breeze carried it to him. His eyes found you, and his brows furrowed as he watched you gracefully twirl in the arms of another man, a torrent of emotions churning within him. Jealousy, like a venomous snake, coiled around his heart, injecting poison into his every thought.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The woman he loved, whose smile could light up his darkest days, was now smiling at someone else. Insecurity gnawed at him, an unpleasant feeling he thought he’d long buried during his cadet days.

He longed to be the one guiding you across the dance floor, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the galaxy. The realisation that someone else was experiencing that privilege grated on him.

“I don’t like him.” Omega’s voice snapped Hunter from his spiralling thoughts, and he glanced down to see her standing at his side, her own eyes watching you and the unfamiliar man dance.

“Hm, neither do I.” Hunter comments, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you twirl again.

It was no secret to Omega how much you and Hunter loved one another, and she was getting tired of neither of you doing anything about it. “Then, why don’t you go dance with her?” She asked, injecting as much innocence into her voice as she could muster, wide eyes turning up to look at her brother.

Hunter sighed. Omega had a point – he could quickly end this torture.

“Mind if I cut in?” The smoky rasp of Hunter’s voice interrupted your dance, and you turned towards him, offering him a bright smile.

The smile Dax had been wearing dissipated, a faint clench to his jaw as he shook his head while the music changed to something softer. “Not at all.” He lied, taking his hands from you. His grandmother had told him about the man who’d interrupted, with half of his face shrouded in darkness, and had warned him that you were close. Not willing to go easily, Dax lifted one of your hands to his lips, holding your gaze as he pressed a kiss to the back of it before stepping away a small distance. He’d wait nearby for another turn.

Your bright smile turned a little uneasy as Dax pressed a kiss to your hand, but relief had your shoulders sagging as Hunter stepped forward, sliding one arm around your waist to pull you close, your hand resting on his shoulder. He took your other hand with his free one, fingers interlacing. “Thank you for the save.” You murmured gratefully, knowing that with his hearing, you didn’t need to raise your voice to be heard above the music.

“Always.” Hunter’s answer leaves no room for doubt as he gently leads, moving you both in a slow sway. He can’t help but revel in your closeness. Every touch, every brush of your hand against his, feels electrifying, making his heart race with desire. Your warm body is pressed to his, his senses overwhelmed with you.

Warmth and security flood your body with the press of Hunter’s hand on your lower back, igniting a desire to be even closer. The rest of the galaxy can’t reach you here, tucked safely in his arms, and for a moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything that’s happened over the last four years – all the pain and bloodshed, all the horrors and tears. Through it all, Hunter has been a steady presence.

As you sift through the good memories, certain moments stand out. There was that day at the lake on Kintan, where the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The two of you had sat side by side, another successful mission under your belt, your laughter dancing in the air. You remember stealing glances at him, the way the sunlight had caught in his eyes, adding more warmth than you thought possible to those endless pools of brown.

Then there were the late-night conversations while you were deep in hyperspace, where you’d lose track of time, sharing dreams, fears, and secrets. Hunter’s voice, soft yet determined, painted a vivid picture of what he wanted from life after the war.

You could only hope those wants had changed.

Hunter drew his senses in, letting the crowd in the plaza fade into the background as he focused on you, the steadiness of your heartbeat, the feel of your hand in his and your bodies pressed together, and the subtle change to your scent. “You smell different.” He comments, curious eyes finding yours.

“If anyone else said that to me, I’d stomp on their foot.” You laugh, a little caught off guard by the statement. “I…” You trail off, the warmth that had faded from your cheeks now returning. “I stopped wearing perfume while knee-deep in the war, but now we’re out the other side of it. I thought I might try it again.” You admit, head dipping bashfully, before worry laces through you. “Is it too much? I aimed for something I hoped wouldn’t bother you and your senses.”

Lips parting at your answer, Hunter blinks with disbelief. Here you were in a sweet little dress, one of his bandanas keeping your hair up, and now you’d dropped on him that you were wearing a perfume picked out with his heightened senses in mind. He groans, desire churning through his veins. “Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?”

Freezing, you think for a moment that you’ve misheard him. “What?” You question softly.

Hunter realises his mistake, but it’s too damn late to take the words back.

In the following pause, neither of you moving, simply staring at one another, Dax spots his opportunity and steps forward. “Can I cut back in?”

Hunter has to actively stop himself from grunting in frustration at the interruption. “We’re not done.” He tells him politely, making sure to keep his eyes on you. He knows he has to say something to you. “Cyar’ika, I…”

Dax huffs, finding it unfair that this man had swooped in and stolen you mid-dance and refused to let him back in. “Look, bud-“

Something snaps in Hunter, and his head whips to the side, eyes narrowing at the man you’d been dancing with. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help the Maker…” He growls out the threat, no longer caring that he’s being rude. This was too important. You were too important.

Your jaw drops, and you watch in disbelief as Hunter threatens Dax. Your heart races, and for a moment, the tension in the air is palpable. Dax, a bit taken aback by Hunter’s sudden intensity, raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“Whoa, whoa, man.” Dax stammers, realising he’s pushed Hunter’s patience to the limit. He steps back, allowing some space between him and the seething clone.

Hunter takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, regaining his composure. He turns back to you, his eyes softening as he tries to find the right words. "Cyar'ika, I'm sorry. It’s just... I need to talk to you.”

Your heart still races, but now it’s not just from the tension between the two men. You look into Hunter’s eyes searchingly. “What is it?” you ask, your voice filled with concern.

Keeping hold of your hand, Hunter leads you away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner of the plaza where you can talk in peace. The silence lingers for a few minutes as he struggles to find the right words, scrubbing his free hand over his face, having never anticipated this moment would come.

Unable to bear seeing him so stressed, you step closer, resting a hand against his chest. His heart thuds heavy under your palm. “H…” You breathe the little nickname you’d given him shortly after joining them all those years ago, which breaks him out of his funk.

“You’re a kaleidoscope of everything beautiful in this galaxy.” He blurts out, catching you off guard. “Your kindness, the way you listen, how you look after everyone around you — you’ve had me captivated since the day you waltzed onto the Marauder like you owned the damn thing and introduced yourself. And now, it’s terrifying to think of my life without you in it.” Once the words start, he can’t stop them.

“And I know we’ve been friends for years, and I value that more than anything in the galaxy. But seeing him dance with you and thinking of him doing it again…” Hunter huffs, trying desperately not to get worked up. “I mean, cyar’ika, the colour…” He gestures to your dress with his free hand. “And you’re using my bandana to keep your hair up, and you picked out a perfume with me in mind...” He trails off, knowing he’s shared so much that he can’t return from it, but Maker does it feel good to get the weight off his shoulders.

A small smile weaves onto your lips, even though you know you shouldn’t be happy, given the man you love is clearly stressed. “What if I told you none of it was accidental?” You murmur, your hand on his chest smoothing across the firm plane of muscle. “That you didn’t misplace your right pauldron the other week – I borrowed it to colour match. And I purposefully asked Omega to use your bandana earlier when she was tying up my hair.” You confess, eyes darting up to watch as surprise paints itself on his handsome features.

“You know, I’ve spent countless nights replaying moments in my head, wondering if you ever picked up on how my heart races when you’re near or how I can’t keep my eyes off you when we’re together. I didn’t want to make things awkward or ask for something neither of us could give in the middle of a war. But we’ve made it out the other side, so…” It’s your turn to trail off.

Your words hung in the air, and Hunter’s heart began to race, his body swirling with so many emotions it was difficult to grasp onto any of them. A rush of warmth surged through him, from the tips of his fingers to the depths of his soul. Gazing into your eyes, all he finds is pure, unwavering honesty. Your sincerity was a balm to his fears.

Hunter’s silence unnerves you, but you’re not backing out now. Not when the promise of something so much sweeter is tantalisingly close. “Say you want me, and I’m yours.” You whisper.

Hunter’s gaze never wavers from yours, and a flicker of relief crosses his eyes as he realises that this isn’t a cruel joke or an illusion. It’s real. The tension between you seems to crackle with anticipation as he takes a deep breath, finally finding the words he’s been searching for. “I’ve wanted you since the day you walked onto the Marauder.” He admits softly, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “I’ve tried to be strong, to protect you and the rest of the squad, to not let my feelings get the better of me. But I can’t deny it any longer. I want you with every beat of my heart, every breath I take.”

His confession sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity of his desire in the way he holds you and the way he looks at you. There’s no turning back now.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Hunter leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. The world around you fades into obscurity, and it’s just the two of you finally giving in to the magnetic pull that has existed between you for so long. The kiss is a promise, a declaration of all the unspoken feelings and desires built up over the years.

As your lips parted, Hunter rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged with emotion. “I want you, and I’m yours.” He whispers, his voice filled with love and longing.

A radiant smile spreads across your face, and you reply, “I’m yours too, Hunter. Always.”

His smile matches your own as he pulls back a little, though his fingers remain on your face, now stroking across your jawline. “Want to get out of here?”

Teeth sinking into your lower lip, you nod. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Hunter’s eyes twinkle with excitement and relief as he takes your hand and leads you away from the plaza, slipping down side streets towards your home. As you walk hand in hand, you can feel the electric connection between you two, a spark that has finally ignited into a full-blown flame.

Halfway there, Hunter pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tucks you against the side of a building, his lips finding yours. His kisses are hungry, filled with longing and desire, as if he’s been waiting forever for this moment. And in truth, he feels like he has.

As the kiss breaks, your laughter echoes in the stillness of the night, smile as bright as the stars above as he disentangles from you, drawing you out of the shadows and back towards the house. As you reach the front door, he stops, his free hand moving to your hair, plucking the flower from Dax free. Carelessly, he drops it to the floor.

“Hunter!” You exclaim, watching the delicate bloom hit the pebbled path beneath your feet.

Something dark shines in his eyes, sending a thrill through you. “The only things in your hair should be my bandana,” his hand reaches for your ponytail, giving it a gentle tug as he leans in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Or my hands.”

Breath catching, Hunter’s lips meet yours for a passionate kiss. The front door is pushed open, and you’re guided inside, steady hands grasping at your hips as he kicks the door shut behind you both.

Heart thudding as both of Hunter’s hands cup your face; you sink into his touch as his tongue slides between your lips, tasting you. He leads you up the stairs, refusing to break the kiss for even a moment as you reach his room. One hand leaves your face to push the bedroom door shut, and a moment later, you’re pressed up against it, Hunter’s body pining you in place, an arm resting on the door above your head, caging you in. That earlier sense of safety creeps back through you.

Tearing his lips from yours, Hunter’s chest heaves with each breath, a fire licking its way through his veins as you both open your eyes, gazing at one another for a split second. His head dips, mouth leaving a trail of delicate kisses along your throat, groaning as you tilt to give him better access, the prettiest moan sliding from your lips as he laves a kiss to the juncture where your shoulder and neck meet, following it with a quick, gentle nip.

Knees shaking, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one until you can push the fabric off his body. The rough pads of his fingers drag across your bare thighs, breath stuttering as the hem of your dress meets his grasp. He breaks contact just long enough to lean back and lift the garment over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

“Fuck…” Hunter curses quietly, eyes roving over your exposed body, the curves and dips of your frame, the swell of your bare breasts. A needy groan escapes him as he realises your panties match the dress, too.

Before self-consciousness can creep in, he’s dragging you to the bed with a hungry kiss, pushing you back onto it, kiss breaking as your back meets the soft mattress. For a moment, you both pause, drinking the other in. There’s a wildness in Hunter’s eyes you’ve never seen before, a warmth in your cheeks at how his eyes devour you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times – while sparring or coming out of the fresher, changing, or patching up wounds, but now you can look.

His broad shoulders taper to his narrow waist, and his tanned, toned skin begs to be touched. Half of him is shrouded in black ink, and a burning desire to drag your nails over the ridges of his abs has you licking your lips.

Hunter’s not faring much better, either. The sight of you sprawled on his bed in nothing but a scrap of aqua fabric, lips kiss-swollen, his bandana still in your hair, and your gorgeous tits exposed has him itching to fuck you on every surface, to fill the room with the scent of your arousal and make you scream his name over and over again. “Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.” Hunter breaks the momentary silence, reaching down to palm himself through his pants.

The action draws your gaze downwards, and you watch delightfully as the man you love gives himself a stroke through the fabric.

Hunter’s nostrils flare, picking up on how the simple action drew more of your heady scent from between your thighs. At the foot of the bed, he slowly sinks down onto his knees, eyes never once leaving you. If you smell that delicious, he can only imagine how you’ll taste.

Propped up on your forearms, you watch as Hunter sinks down between your thighs, those warm brown eyes focused solely on you. Fingers skim up your calves, feather-light, gently pressing your legs wider as they reach your knees. His head turns inwards, gazes breaking as he presses soft kisses to your thighs, tongue leaving small, slow licks in their wake. He takes his time savouring you, savouring the moment.

Lips brush across the juncture between your thigh and hip, sucking small marks against your skin before Hunter buries his face against your clothed pussy, eyes shut as he presses his nose against your clit, inhaling deeply. Your scent pulls a low growl from him, the vibrations making you gasp. “So wet already. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” Hunter vows, tongue pressing forward to lick across the damp fabric of your panties, making your breath stutter at the contact as your head thunks back down onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut.

Fingers prying the material down your legs, Hunter dives back between your thighs, dragging the flat of his tongue through your soaked folds, delighting in the way your hips buck and you cry out. He was right; you taste even more delicious than you smell, and he groans at your tang on his tongue.

Drawing your legs over his shoulders, he settles in, licking long, broad strokes across your pussy, familiarising himself with you. His senses home in on you, mind cataloguing every slight noise you make, every jerk of your hips, the way your breath quickens when his tongue skirts oh so close to your entrance and then circles around your clit.

Needy little whines escape you, every nerve in your body alight as Hunter teases you, lips and tongue exploring you, his nose bumping against your clit to send sparks of desire surging through you. Warmth pools in your belly, and it only grows as the wet warmth of his tongue presses against your entrance, dipping in. “Hunter…” You moan out his name, fingers burrowing into his hair as you cant your hips, grinding against his face.

Pride blooms in Hunter’s chest at your response, and he keeps going a little longer before he flicks his tongue up and across your clit, the sounds of your cries of delight like music to his ears. Hands grasping at your thighs, he presses your legs up, almost folding you in half as his tongue sweeps side to side, teasing his way back down your pussy as he has greater access.

The change in angle makes you moan, free hand clawing at the sheets while your hips rock, chasing the delight of his mouth. A light suck on your clit makes you gasp, the warmth in your belly building with every swipe of his talented tongue. Dragging his tongue around the edge of your folds, he draws an arch, skirting around the top of your clit again. “Hunter, please.” You crack, desperate for him.

You feel him smile against you, releasing one of your thighs, fingers roaming up your body until his tattooed hand gently squeezes one of your breasts. His mouth is relentless, tongue finding your clit, firmly moving side to side over the sensitive bud as those talented fingers of his tweak your pebbled nipple.

The warmth crescendos, spilling over, and you cry out his name as your release slams into you, making your body shudder, gasping for breath at its intensity.

Hunter works you through the high, and as you whine at the overstimulation, his mouth leaves you, fingers letting go of your nipple to smooth over the soft skin of your breast. “Beautiful.” He whispers reverently, tongue darting out to lick his lips and drink up the taste of you as he watches you come down from the high, your heavy-lidded eyes opening to meet his gaze.

With your hand in his hair, you guide him up your body, small hums of delight leaving you as he peppers kisses across your stomach and chest, laving little licks across your breasts as he drags you further up the bed. He breaks away for a second, using one hand to remove his belt and shuck off his pants.

You watch as he strips completely, acres of tanned skin finally revealed. As he ditches his boxers, his hard cock springs free, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, thighs parting a little wider. You relish the low groan the action pulls from him before he takes himself in hand, fist sliding along his shaft for a few pumps. He’s average in length but thicker than you expected - anticipation coils through you.

He prowls up the bed, settling above you, letting a little of his weight rest against you. Dark eyes meet yours, and you can’t hold back your smile, fingers reaching up to trace along his face. Drawing his head down, you steal a kiss, letting the moment build as your eyes flutter shut, tongues brushing together. Hunter shifts above you, resting his weight on one hand while the other dips between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his cock as he teases the velvety head through your soaked folds. Achingly slowly, he presses forward, your lips parting as you let out a soft moan at the stretch as he eases into you inch by inch.

“That’s it, cyar’ika. Maker, you’re so pretty, taking all of me like a good girl.” He whispers against your lips, enjoying how your breathing changes and your heart races at his words. You feel like heaven as he bottoms out, hips flush against you, chests pressed together as his hand moves back to the side of your head, redistributing his weight.

The stretch as Hunter fills you is exquisite, and your eyes open to gaze up at him in awe that this is happening – that this incredible man is yours. The first slow roll of his hips has your head tilting backwards, a breathy sigh filling the room.

The pace builds, your hands reaching for him, dragging up his back and down his flanks, nails scraping along flushed skin, making him grunt at the combination of pleasure and pain. Desire coils through you, building with every thrust of his hips, every drag of his cock as he pulls out to the tip and pushes back in. He leans down to kiss you, demanding tongue sliding between your lips to taste you.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good around me. Made for me.” Hunter growls and the sound of your bodies meeting creates a background of white noise. “Won’t last long, baby. You feel too good. Fucking dreamed of this.” He adds, supporting his weight with one hand again, thrusts never faltering as he reaches down to grasp one of your legs, hauling it up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before he pushes your leg towards your chest, the change in angle enabling him to thrust into you even deeper.

Eyes falling shut once again as he drives you closer to the edge, you whine and whimper as his cock repeatedly rubs against your g-spot. The hand he’d used to pry your leg up moves to your breast, fingers tweaking your pebbled nipple again before he gently squeezes. Your name falls from his lips, raspy alongside his command. “Come for me.”

Between his hands, cock, and voice, you’re powerless to resist. Fingers scrambling at his body for purchase, your back arches as you cry out his name, desire bubbling over into a rush of euphoria that sweeps through your body and momentarily renders you speechless. Tremors wrack through you, toes curling as you desperately pant for breath, hazy eyes opening to look up at him.

Feeling you come apart, watching you fall into pleasure beneath him, was more than Hunter could’ve ever asked for. You were beautiful every day, but lost in the throes of an orgasm he’d given you? You were divine. He could feel the pressure building, feel himself teetering on that edge.

“Where?” The roughness of Hunter’s voice caresses you, warm puffs of his breath tickling your ear from where he’s bent down to bring you both even closer, caging you under him as his thrusts grow sloppy, muscles taut under your hands.

“In me, please.” You whisper back, and the deep moan he lets out will forever be seared into your mind.

Hunter gives a few final thrusts before he presses in as deep as he can, a guttural sound leaving him as his eyes screwed shut, thighs shaking as he hits his own peak, the pressure evaporating into molten bliss as he gives you everything. Slowly, the pleasure pulls back, like the tide, and he swallows thickly as his eyes open, breath catching at the sight of you.

You’re gazing up at him like he hung all the stars in the galaxy, indescribable love woven through your features. Carefully, he lowers your raised leg, fingers rubbing to return some of the feeling as his lips meet yours with a tenderness that could only come from years of shared moments, mouths moving in perfect harmony, a slow, sensuous exploration of one another.

Hand sliding to your waist, Hunter holds you still as he gently eases himself out of you, shifting to lay on his side, drawing you against his chest.

You nestle into his embrace. Your fingers trace the contours of his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. The years of laughter and tears, the countless shared experiences, and the trust built over time have all culminated in this moment.

Hunter presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and you can feel the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He draws lazy circles on your back, a comforting motion that brings you a sense of security and belonging.

With your bodies pressed together, you both revel in the aftermath of your lovemaking. The room is filled with a peaceful stillness, and you listen to the soft melody of your combined breaths, knowing that this love is the anchor that holds you both steady in a still-turbulent galaxy.

#Soarings Ask Box #the bad batch x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter x reader #hunter x you #the bad batch hunter x you #sergeant hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #tbb hunter x reader #star wars clone wars

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saintship · 4 months

Note

okay just hear me out!! 13 but with tf141 wherein reader HATES physical touch like they’re completely repulsed by it but they know they can trust tf141, it’s just a matter of getting used to it and time. i’d imagine like it would be them slowly noticing it like if price pats reader on the shoulder for a job well done or if soap just surprise hugs reader from the back and in each scenario the reader freezes up 🤭 also it’s 1 am and i’ve been bingereading your work it’s so good 😭

Prompt #13 - "Take your time."

Thank you so much<3

I’ve struggled with touch aversion my whole life, and it can be upsetting at times so this is free therapy for me,

Hope you enjoy!

Reader & 141 - A little getting used to

Insert excuse to use this gif

The first time they learned of your aversion was at a loosely named ‘work party’, when Gaz had thrown back enough liquor to kill a small animal, Ghost had gathered a few empty pint glasses, and Price drank Soap under the table, literally, when he collapsed to the wooden floorboards of the bar.

You had quickly helped him to his feet and turned to return to your seat when he suddenly enveloped you in a drunken bear hug from behind you, nearly toppling the both of you over with his staggering balance.

You made a low noise of surprise before freezing in place, your hands held up awkwardly as Gaz hiccupped tears of laughter at the scene.

Soap had apologized profusely through the winces of his hangover the next morning, assured when you told him it wasn’t just him, it was touching. But when you were alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but recall how warm it felt, how he held you to him like you were something precious.

It wasn’t long after that night that the 141 had completed another operation, mingling conversation echoing throughout the hangar as they filed out of the jet. Your boots had just touched the concrete floor when you felt a Price’s gloved hand pat your shoulder twice, along with a gentle squeeze and a smile.

“Good work.”

Your rigid body made him retract, but you surprised him by laying your own hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks to the Captain..” You murmured with a nod.

What he took as a small gesture was an act that kept you up that night. It had always seemed like you would always hate touching in general; and you did, but it felt different when it was them.

Maybe it was because they never treated you like a child. Some thought your touch aversion was the result of something terrible, and wanted to talk to you like you were some kind of rescue. But on this team, in this job, they just didn’t care. And it felt good.

You and Ghost shared the same hesitance; he showed his love in different ways. Whether it be his humor, pulling you out of a tight situation in the field, or just staying up when neither of you could sleep because of the flashing images that played behind your eyes. So he was the one who surprised you the most.

The operation hadn’t been going well; there were more hidden explosives than they had prepared for, and the task force were clinging to the only truck that wasn’t shattered into a grotesque metal skeleton. The truck wasn’t meant to fit five bodies, and the uneven weight careened it into a small cluster of metal beams and half-walls that had collapsed from a singed building. The crash wasn’t overly harmful, Price hadn’t been going fast, but you were tossed into a pile of concrete rubble, disturbing a metal beam that fell on your upper arm, snapping the bone and pinning the limb underneath.

Your instinct to struggle only tore at the flesh and ligaments more, a white-hot clamp from your shoulder down. Your nerves spasmed and ricocheted, a fuzzy coating of needles trailing up from the smallest finger of your left hand.

You screamed in a way you likely never would again, your guttural cries of pain alerting Ghost. He knew what you sounded like when you were lacerated, or even shot; you would breathe through the groans, often treating it yourself despite his lecturing that would follow.

Now, there was no breath, no quiet murmurs of discomfort. There was only your screams. Not a high-pitched, piercing tone, but a cry, erupting from deep in your ribs, desperate and hollow.

Gaz was stuck as well, a chunk of concrete the size of a car toppled precariously near him and blocking any route of escape. Price and Soap ran to him while Ghost ran to you, an unspoken divvying of effort. Ghost knelt by you, his adrenaline momentarily halted by your grasping of his gloved hand.

“Please.. please help, please, please-"

You were sobbing from pain, but the beam was too heavy for Simon to lift on his own.

“You’re in shock, Sergeant. You need to keep breathing, you got that?” He spoke steadily, though his eyes darted from one part of your broken body to the next frantically.

“Hurts..”

You felt weak saying it. But that was all that was on your mind. The blinding, stabbing pain.

“I know..” Ghost seemed to murmur under his breath, as if the words escaped him involuntarily.

“Got him!” Soap’s voice rang clear as Price dragged Gaz free. Soap vaulted a pile of brick and cinder blocks, quickly assisting Ghost in lifting the beam off your broken arm. The absence of Ghost’s hand made your palm feel cold.

The pressure being released incited more pain. Your screams increased in severity before you were finally free, Soap discarding the beam roughly. You could see in his eyes he was out of his element. It was unlike you to scream or cry.

“We’ve got to set your arm, we’re too far from a hospital to leave it for later.” Ghost stated. You shook your head vehemently.

“No, no, no..”

“It’s alright, Sergeant..”

He sat behind you, holding your torso in his arms as your injured arm continued to swell.

“Look at the clouds. Don’t look at him.”

Soap had knelt beside you, preparing to set your joint. You obeyed, your eyes fixed on the hazy grey clouds that decorated the muted sky. The season being Autumn accompanied by the fact it was nearing sundown made the sky a gorgeous deep blue, stained with a grey overcoating.

“Just keep looking up..”

Soap set the joint in one fluid motion, and a choked cry escaped you, your flinching only held steady by the arms of a man you hardly even looked in the eye.

“Good.. good job..” Soap touched your knee gently, and any panic seemed to ebb, if only for a fleeting second. You could hear Price radioing for a medical evac through the pounding in your head. You would have slipped into the warm blanket of unconsciousness, had Ghost not been behind you. He had fully settled on the ground, at first to secure you, but now at will. For the first time in a long time, you felt arms around your middle and didn’t want to shrink away.

On the gurney, his gloved hand stayed on your shoulder.

In the helicopter, he held your body steady as the cabin shook during takeoff.

In the medical wing, his palm rested just at your ankle while you were treated.

Every so often, you glanced at his hand, the skeleton print of his gloves stained with grime and blood. And with the warmth of his palm, you figured the touch of someone else might not be as repulsive if it's someone like him.

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #story prompts #ask #requests #request

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mwebber · 10 months

Note

what are your favourite martian moments? 😺

thank u for asking eve i'm so glad i get to talk about two of my favourite people on god's green earth <3 in no particular order just off the top of my head...

#1: ABU DHABI 2022 i cannot state just how much brain damage this moment did to me. like i vividly remember freaking the fuck out about the martian interview on sky and talking to the besties and barbi @brawn-gp was like omg another moment do u want me to clip. and i was like YEAH YES. PLEASE. I LOVE YOU (i love you <3) and then i saw it and blacked out and when i awoke it was to this. unparalleled brainrot Truly there will never ever be another

#2. MARRIAGE QUOTE do i need to say anything else. when i saw this for the first time i think i nearly had an aneurysm

#3. SINGAPORE 2008 their first real red bull date.......... i think about them sitting on that couples rickshaw every monday giggling with each other generally being blushy messes sharing secretive smiles like they're the only ones in on a joke. also mark pretending to push seb off a building only to catch him STOP my heart is melting

(tumblr is being dumb and won't credit the gifs properly but they're from thnx-mate-blog)

#4. VLAD RYS GEORGIA K MOMENT this is unironically my favourite pic of seb to ever seb. and of course he's looking at mark. no further comments

#4.5 THE OTHER VLAD RYS GEORGIA K MOMENT. this photo is still so mind-boggling like why the fuck are you looking at each other like that. hi. hello?

#5. MONACO 2010 HUG.

#6. MAKE LOVE TO EACH OTHER / ALWAYS REMEMBER YOUR FIRST TIME. it's literally so fucking funny to me that red bull saw everybody's martian brainrot and was like. wouldn't it be so fucked up if we dropped that mark buttered seb's muffin after china 2009. twirls hair. haha wouldn't it be soooo random. if we did that

#7. WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IMAGE IS. i can't even look at it for too long i start feeling funny in my tummy

#8. SEB'S LONGING STARE. i ccant believe i forgot this one it should be higher up perhaps

#9. AUSTRALIA 2016/2017. their podiums are SSOOOOOOO.

#10. MATCHING PORSCHES. is it hot in here? do you feel feverish? i feel feverish

#11. RIGHT ONE'S HEAVIER. monaco 2021 when mark casually revealed how much he knows seb still after all this time that seb was like ".. yeah!" like he himself was pleasantly surprised that mark still cares and oh god. somebody hold me

#12. NEARLY SKINNY DIPPING AU CANADA. caliss de tabarnak attache ta tuque mark nhabille pas des sous vetements criss de tabarnak de caliss d'esti de sacrament de

(from thnx-mate-blog)

13. VERY GOOD. i just know they had a Conversation after mark retired that was soo insightful and healing that they still reference to this day. they're very good with each other. btw. if u didn't know.

14. LOVER'S TIFFS. i can't. i can't think about them anymore i think i need to be put in a straightjacket and locked up

#15. 2013 PRIZE GIVING. the way they look at each other...... i'd write 5 million words of rpf too

there's literally so many more moments i want to include on here like mark's "i hope when i'm 70 they're not still asking if i love sebastian" or top gear when mark was like "my dad always said you shouldn't hit boys mate" or when seb and mark were at hangar 7 post 2010 and he went for the wettest limpest high five hand hold known to man or when mark massaged seb's shoulder in australia 2009 or their 1-2 podiums in 2009 or in 2020 when mark was like i've moved on from ferrari for u or "seb didnt expect sex in monaco" or china 2010 when they were bitching with each other or when seb was like i don't understand what he's saying half the time or when seb was on mark's shoulders for a red bull stunt or when they played cricket in australia 2012 or when mark was like we're very well-suited to each other both very handsome in that one magazine or when mark addressed their relationship in like 2014 and said we wished each other well in austria as you do or after multi 21 when seb was like i was racing i was faster i passed him i won and mark was like a cheetah never changes its spots we'll be fine or early on when mark was like we'll get hot chocolate together and i'll be going on about smth that happened before seb was born and he'll roll his eyes or when seb was like i learned a lot from mark or when seb said he'd give mark free hotel toiletries for his bday or when they copied each other trying to put stickers on their car or when someone changed seb's wikipedia page to say he's dating mark or when they did their pepe jeans butt ad or turkey 2011 when they all but caressed each other in 4k or the brazil 2011 cheek cradle or their websites i haven't even talked about their websites yet [I AM FORCIBLY DRAGGED AWAY]

#im not putting this under a read more. martian favs be upon ye #inbox #martian

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mistyresolve · 8 months

Note

Not sure if you’re doing requests still.

If want to ignore this, feel free.

How I was wondering how would Ghost and Gaz react if their s/o had sweet goofy Labrador that fellow them around and flop onto their laps, whenever they sat down?

Something super cute?

Word Count - 1.7k

Tags/Warnings - Fluff, puppiess

A/N - I've recently been so unbelievably obsessed with livestock guardian dog....I'm well aware that a lab is not the right breed but still

Masterlist ❤︎ Tag List Form

Ghost

You had come to visit the base on your day off. And just like every other time you did so, you brought your dog, Archie, with you. She was a 2-year-old energetic, long-haired golden lab, who had yet to grow out of her puppy faze. Always tripping over her still-too-big feet and chewing on anything and everything.

Archie was well known around the base, and the boys adored her. She got all the attention a dog could want. And more.

Archie also had an unpredictable favourite, whom she always ran to first, and everyone for when he appeared. Including you. You always had a hard time getting her back in the car when it was time to leave when Ghost was around. On more than one occasion you have had to ask him to go hide somewhere so she would listen to you.

It was so bizarre because aside from the occasional pat on the side, he basically ignored her. Ghost never seemed to mind though. He never once complained about being “inconvenienced” or annoyed by Archie following him around. Frankly, you had your suspicions that he enjoyed the dog's company.

As soon as you let Archie out of the back seat she booked it for the hanger, leaving you in her dust. You didn’t feel the need to recall her and already knew the rest of the team would be there—sitting around one of the Humvees, pretending to be working on it. The oversized garage doors were pushed open, and when she disappeared through them and into the building you could hear the guys greeting her.

“Hello, pretty girl!” you didn’t need to see him to know it was MacTavish and him putting on the iconic puppy voice, “Who’s a good girl?” he said, knowing damn well the moment Ghost showed up Archie would forget he ever existed.

Then Price’s voice, “Archie,” followed by playful barking. They were definitely riling her up, “Where’s your mom, huh?”

Before you rounded the corner you knew she was running in a circle, greeting each and every one of them, expecting a pat and scratch. When she saw you enter after her, she barked once in acknowledgment, before continuing her rounds.

You took a seat in the circle, jumping into the conversation they were having before they arrived. Much to your surprise, they were significantly dirty; so they were actually working on the Humvee before this.

Archie disappeared further into the hanger, doing a quick perimeter check. Obviously, she was looking for a certain someone. When she came back, too soon, it meant that Ghost wasn’t around, so she was making do with her second favourite, Soap. She was on her back, exposing her belly for rubs. To which Soap obliged, as it was his end goal to overthrow Ghost.

You looked around, “Where is Ghost?” It was strange that he wasn’t here. It was near the end of the day on a Friday. Usually, they all met up for the last few hours to bullshit before heading out for drinks.

At the sound of his name, Archie perked up, looking to you for confirmation. When she realized he still wasn’t here she turned her attention back to Soap. Whom frowned at you, “You’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“He and Gaz took twenty-two out for a test drive,” Price checked his watch and then rocked back in his seat with a frown, “Should have been back by now though.”

22 was the other Humvee that was normally parked in the hangar, a “22” stencilled onto the side of the hood. 22 was a “Project of Passion”, given to the 141 as a joke a year ago. The damn thing didn’t start when we first got it. But the guys saw it as an offence and vowed to get it back on the road.

His ears must have been burning because shortly after you asked, you heard the rumble of the vehicle approaching. It pulled into the open space before someone killed the engine, and the doors slammed shut.

“Fucking piece of shit.”

That was definitely Ghost.

Archie sprung up from her spot at Soap's feet, meeting up with Ghost as he emerged around the back of the Humvee. He was using a rag to wipe something off his hands angrily when his entire demeanour changed, “Hey, Archie-girl,” he dropped to one knee, getting down to her level to give her a good scratch behind the ear. She was wagging her tail so hard that her entire body swayed with it. Her mouth was open as she panted in excitement.

Soap leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, sulking.

Ghost stood back up. That would be all the attention he would give Archie and it was like he gave her the moon, “Engine nearly blew up,” at some point, he had taken off his jacket, and was wearing just a green t-shirt. His arms were stained black from car oil. He walked back to 22 and this time everyone followed after him, curious as to what the issue was.

The jacket hanging over the open window was all the evidence you needed to know why he had taken it off. The black stains on his arms mirrored those on his jacket. Only way worse.

Both you and Soap had to avoid eye contact with each other or you’d probably laugh right in Ghost’s face.

The hood was propped up already and Gaz was bracing his weight on it as he leaned forward, looking exasperated.

You jumped up onto the work table to watch them contemplate what to do next. Soap asked a question and both Ghost, and Gaz groaned. Ghost invited Soap to take a look underneath the vehicle, the two of them sliding beneath it so only their bottom halves were visible.

Archie joined them.

Immediately. And enthusiastically.

She crouched low and inched herself until she was right next to Ghost. She didn’t interrupt him as he explained what he was thinking was wrong to Soap. When they came back out Archie again followed them.

After an hour of back and forth, they decided to give it up for the day. Sitting back around in a circle, Archie had squeezed herself between Ghost’s feet and the chair, her head resting on his shoe. She was alert and watching everyone around her, but she was calm.

You silently noticed how Ghost kept his foot extra still, careful not to disturb the pup.

Admittedly, the sight of him being so attentive to her presence did something to you. There was a little bit of history between you and Ghost, but both of you agreed that getting attached to each other in this line of work could be dangerous. Torturous, even. Although you no longer actively seek him out, you still have feelings for him.

Archie must have sensed all that and made a dog-equivalent bond with him.

You shared that same peace and excitement when around him.

Gaz

It was the next day and Gaz was given the day off. Why? Because he requested it? Why? Because it was Yogi’s birthday.

Gaz had taken Yogi to get a cut and groom, a pup cup, and then let him run wild in the pet store. When they came home at the end of the day, Yogi was wearing a little blue bandana from the groomers and Gaz was carrying a bag full of toys and chewies.

“Oh my goodness,” you exclaimed upon seeing the Yogi, crouching to his level to get a better look at him, “Aren’t you the most handsome boy.”

When it was time for dinner, Gaz had given Yogi his own “plate”. He went so far as to garnish it with a milk bone.

Now it was 9 p.m. and you and Gaz sat on either side of the couch. His legs propped up on the ottoman, his ankles crossed. An arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand resting atop your dog, mindlessly petting him. You played with the end of his tail. If only because that was all you could reach without having to splay across the sofa.

You were halfway through your movie when you had an epiphany.

“He’s hardly my dog anymore,” you frown, waving a hand at the scene in front of you.

Gaz lazily turned his head over to you, “Hmm?”, Then he followed your gaze to the dog on his lap, “Oh. He hasn’t been your dog for a while,” he said matter-of-factly and gave your senior dog a pat on the shoulder to add emphasis.

Yogi’s tail begins to wag, beating you in the leg with it. It was like adding salt to a wound. You raised Yogi from when he was 8 weeks old. He was now 10 and his brown fur had long since turned grey around his face.

He’s known Gaz for all of 3 years.

They must have made a little boy pact at some point during those three years because there was no clear day or moment Yogi stole his heart back from you and gave it to Gaz…

“Don’t say that,” you glared over at him, “he’s my baby.”

Gaz smiled, “Nah. He’s a big boy,” he moved to scratch under his jaw, right where he liked it most, “Yogi’s a man. A man-dog.”

…That or Gaz was ploying him with threats when you weren’t around.

Down the hall, the washing machine beeped. Since it was Wednesday, it was Gaz’s turn to do laundry. Most of it being his clothes and uniforms. He tapped on Yogi, signalling for him to get up. Yogi was slow moving but he jumped from the couch, stretching out with a yawn.

You paused the movie so Gaz wouldn’t miss any while he was switching laundry, “Yogi…” you said in the saddest, most pathetic voice you could muster when the old dog started after your boyfriend; all too willing to abandon you on the couch. He looked back at you and began to make his way back to you. Without a doubt, it was out of obligation and not want.

“Yogi,” his name was echoed down the hall.

That was it took and the dog carried on down the hall.

“You Judas,” you mumbled to him, knowing he was half deaf.

And a dog.

Masterlist

A/N - Sorry Gaz's part is so short...I've never really written the guy before :/

Taglist - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎ @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #cod x reader #mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz garrick

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some-little-infamy · 1 month

Text

Tommy, Bothered and Bewildered

(Read on AO3)

Tommy isn’t sure what to expect when he knocks on Evan’s door and asks if they can talk, he just knows that he has to say something, because things can’t keep going on the way that they currently are.

He’s seen the friendship that Evan and Eddie have, and he has his suspicions that it might run deeper than anyone else knows about, at least on an open level. That isn’t something he’s willing to get in the middle of.

But he doesn’t want to stop spending time with them, either. He wants to teach Evan how to fly, and grab that beer with him sometime. He wants to keep going to fights with Eddie and spend some more time around that great kid of his.

None of that is going to happen if he doesn’t clear the air about the building tension they’re all feeling. In a way, he’s glad it all came to a head at the basketball game. That gave him an excuse to bring it up without feeling weird about it, like he was assuming anyone cared about him any more than they did.

“Can I get you something? I still owe you a beer, right?” Evan offers.

“No, I’m good. I won’t stay long. I just wanted to clear the air and I didn’t want to do it over the phone or in a text or something,” Tommy waves the offer off. He has a shift after this, anyway. But the truth is that he wanted to see Evan. He wanted to be here, to look him in the eyes, and swear that he knows what Eddie means to him. Promise that he never meant to get in the middle of that.

Of course, there’s more to it than that. Tommy would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that he hated having to turn down that first offer to go out for drinks, even if his plans for the fight in Vegas were huge, because honestly? If he knew the offer would be on the table he would’ve given up the tickets in a heartbeat. There’s just something about Evan that draws him in, that makes him want to know more.

But that isn’t why he’s here, not really.

They have the talk, awkward at moments but a relief in the end. Tommy apologizes, and surprisingly, Evan takes full ownership of the way he reacted as bad behavior on his part. Tommy doesn’t know much about Evan, but he feels like he knows enough to know that that’s a pretty big deal for him to admit.

“I mean it’s not like I could ever replace you. Christopher would absolutely have something to say about that. That kid cannot shut up about you,” Tommy tells Evan. What he doesn’t tell him is that Christopher didn’t shut up about him because Tommy practically barraged the poor kid with questions, trying to get anything he could about what Evan likes to eat, or what he does on his days off, or what music he listens to. Fortunately and unfortunately, the answer to all of that is usually whatever Christopher asks for, which unfortunately left Tommy with little useful information, and fortunately left him even more endeared with Evan.

Then everything happens so quickly. Evan moves closer to him. He jokes about fake mouth static. They’re laughing, and sharing looks, and… Jesus, did Evan’s eyelashes just bat at him?

“I just wanted to get to know you,” Evan says finally, and Tommy’s breath stops entirely.

“Yeah?” Tommy tries, and fails, not to sound surprised. He thinks he made it pretty clear he wants to get to know Evan - the hangar tour, the raincheck on drinks, the fact that he drove all the way here today for a conversation that absolutely could’ve been a text - he isn’t hiding anything. He just hadn’t been so sure about Evan’s side of it until now.

And then the talk circles back around to Eddie. Eddie’s great. He’s a good guy, they have a lot in common, and yeah, they’re pretty good friends… but that’s it. Eddie’s in a relationship, and as far as Tommy is aware, straight. Tommy wouldn’t even think about seriously flirting with him, would never dare to cross that line. But with Evan…

There’s no doubt in Tommy’s mind now that Evan was flirting with him back at the hangar. He asked for a tour when he wasn’t seriously planning on learning, the hopeful look in his eyes when he asked Tommy out for drinks… there was something there and it killed Tommy to not be able to explore right away. He’d hoped…

…and there it is again. That damned hope.

“Just… trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting.”

“My attention?” He thought… well, he suspected, wondered really… but maybe he was just reading too much into Evan and Eddie’s friendship.

Buck is rambling now, mentions of maiming his best friend and talks with his sister, but Tommy barely processes any of it before making up his mind on what he wants to do next. He drove here, across town before a shift, through Los Angeles traffic, not just to see Evan, but to see what potential relationship - friendship or otherwise - Tommy could salvage after everything that went down.

Tommy closes the small space between them, giving Evan just enough time to back away. He brings two fingers under Evan’s chin to lift it, and when there’s no resistance Tommy leans in and kisses him. He waits, reading every push and pull of the muscles under his touch, but Evan only leans into the kiss, bringing his own hand up to Tommy’s arm.

When Tommy pulls away and takes in the look of astonishment on Evan’s face, he knows he made the right decision.

So when Tommy has to leave - and he has to leave, because if he goes in for a second kiss he isn’t sure there’s any force in the universe that would be able to pull him away with enough time to get to his shift - he makes sure Evan knows that he wants to see him again. And again. And again.

Starting with Saturday.

#911 abc #911 spoilers #tommy kinard #evan buckley #kinley #kinkley #bucktommy #i just love them a lot your honor #and we desperately need more tommy pov content #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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your-averagewriter · 1 year

Text

Work interruptions.

Summary: Shuri enjoys calling her girlfriend from the Jabari Tribe during her work shifts bearing gifts that give homemade a whole new meaning but they can't hang out during the day so (y/n) meets her after her shifts (Shuri x fem!reader).

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: fluff, weapons, kissing?

“(y/n) of the Jabari Tribe, your council is sought by the leaders of the Golden Tribe.” A warrior of a lower rank requests.

“Permission to leave,” I ask of M’Baku who’s slumped in his chair.

“Yes, yes.” He says dismissing me with a wave of his hand before continuing the meeting that was interrupted by the announcement. This has happened multiple times now, Shuri summons me to her home for unimportant reasons.

Grabbing hold of my sword I hop down from the platform I was standing on and I follow the warrior out of the room. He leads me out of the building and towards the hangar.

“I can escort myself, thank you,” I say, a serious, authoritative tone in my voice. It’s hard to get taken seriously when you’re only 17, a woman and the warriors ranked below you are all taller and older than you. But he nods before exiting.

I make my way to my speeder, yes I know sounds like some science fiction but it’s not, Shuri designed it for me. Quickly, I mount it and fly to the Golden Tribe’s palace. I drop off my speeder in their hangar before announcing myself to the guards. They lead me through the building and to the lab even though I already know the way.

“You requested my presence?” I ask bowing to Shuri slowly before standing up straight.

“Yes, my love. Come here.” She says waving me towards what I assume is a new creation of hers. She starts explaining about the small object, a bracelet of beads by the looks of it. She ties it around my wrist and explains what it does and how it will help keep me safe.

“Princess, I am on duty, you cannot keep calling me over when you are not in danger or there is no reason of importance,” I say and she looks disappointed.

“But I miss you in the day. You’re always so busy!” She says.

“I’ll come back later when I’m off-duty,” I say trying to appease her.

“Ugh fine.” She says, begrudgingly.

“Do you need anything else, princess?” I ask bowing again.

“Yes, actually.” She points to her cheek and I sigh but walk over anyway. I kiss her on the cheek before leaving the room.

“You look very pretty today, goodbye, my love,” I say before heading back to my post in the mountains.

The rest of the day is fairly calm, not much happens apart from the usual security at M’Baku’s meetings. Otherwise, it’s an easy day although the time that I relax will be the time I’m caught off guard.

Taking off my armour, I place it on the armour stand before pulling on some more casual clothes, a mesh bodysuit with a pair of black trousers and chunky boots - not the most practical but great for kicking people with.

Heading towards the Golden Tribe palace for the second time this day I suddenly hear a voice from the beaded bracelet, jumping slightly I’m awakened by it.

“(y/n), are you almost here?” Shuri’s voice sounds through the beads.

“Shuri? I that you?” I ask holding the beads in front of my mouth, my mind completely ‘boggled’.

“Yes, my lover, it is me. You need not hold the beads so close to your mouth.” She says with a chuckle.

“Why are you in the beads?” I ask shaking my wrist.

“I am not in the beads, I promise. It’s a telecom like in the fighter jets.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…” I trail off.

“So, are you almost here?” She asks again.

“Yes, I’ll be with you in mere minutes, be patient, my dear.” I say before tapping the beads trying to ‘hang up’.

“Excellent.” She says before a small beep sound is made and her voice disappears. Pulling up to my ear I shake it once more before shrugging and moving on.

Minutes later I arrive at the same palace and I’m escorted in once again by two guards.

“(y/n)?” I hear a voice from in front of me.

“King T’Challa,” I say before kneeling on one knee and bowing my head, the guards behind me do the same.

T’Challa chuckles. “Surely, we are past this now, are we not (y/n)?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say with my head bowed still.

“There is no need for you to kneel and bow to me, are we not better friends than that, how long have you been dating Shuri? 2, or 3 years? Come on now, surely we moved past these formalities a while ago.” He says with a laugh, holding his hand out to me.

I take it hesitantly with a gracious smile. “I guess so, King T’Challa.”

“Just T’Challa, please.” He says before shaking my hand and looking behind me. “Do they not let you in here unaccompanied?” He says and I shake my head. “Well, from now on (y/n) does not need to be accompanied within my home, it is safe and I trust her.” He says to the guards and almost immediately they retreat back to the main doors. “Do you mind if I walk with you?” Placing his hands behind his back.

“Of course not.” We continue walking towards the laboratory.

Conversation is made, the usual ‘how are you’s and ‘how’s work’, the usual until we make it to the lab.

“(y/n) finally!” I hear as soon as I step foot in the lab, the next thing I see is her running towards me. She wraps her arms around me.

“Shuri, as adorable as this is moment is, give the woman some space.” He chuckles.

“Go away brother, why are you even here?” She asks, jokingly grimacing at him.

“I’ll leave, I’ll leave.” He says placing his hands in the air in a mock surrender before backing away towards the door. “I don’t want to interrupt you two.”

“Yes, get out of my lab!” She yells as he opens the door and leaves.

“I missed you today, my love.” I say as she’s still gripping onto me. “I’m guessing you did as well.”

“Of course,” She pulls away from me but stays holding onto my hand. “Come on, I’ve got something extra for you.”

She picks something small off of the side and places it into my hand and closes my palm. Re-opening my palm I inspect the two small objects against my skin. Two earrings it looks like, they’re made of a pale blue gem like material with metal coatings. They’re beautiful.

“They match your bracelet and they work very similarly - they have qualities that help track you and protect you.”

“They are really pretty.” I say admiring them.

“Try them on.” she says, leading me over towards one fo the full body mirrors. I change out my old ones which are plain balls of metal whilst the new ones are blue gems. Checking myself in the mirror, I look at the earrings and how well they match my outfit before turning to Shuri.

“They’re beautiful. I love you.” I say, kissing her gently.

“Thank you, I couldn’t make a second pair in time for your arrival so that’s my pair, you can have them, they’ll keep you safe.” I shake my head.

“You are the princess, sister of the king, you need to be safe and protected, I am a warrior I’m of no high status and am a target of little persecution - you need these more than me.” I say starting to take out the earrings.

“No, no, (y/n), you don’t need to, I’ll be able to make a second pair sometime tomorrow and I’ll be safe until then.”

“Who is gonna keep you safe until then?”

“You, I guess you’re staying the night babe unless you want to leave me entirely defenceless. What would I do without you?” She says with a smirk before pecking me on the lips.

AN: I just saw Black Panther: Wakanda Forever and I'm in love with everyone in the movie all over again.

This a reminder that Shuri is at a minimum of 16 and a maximum of 19 so please don't be creepy and read this if you're like 30 - I am a minor and so is the character. In this fic specifically, Shuri is either 16 or 17 so just don't be creepy.

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coastalsteelstructures · 8 months

Text

Mastering Lead Qualification: Solutions and Support for Contractors’ Success

Curious about hangar construction cost and wondering, "how much to build a hangar?" Look no further! Our comprehensive guide provides all the answers you need. We break down the intricacies of hangar construction, offering insights into pricing and budgeting. Whether you're planning a private aircraft hangar or a commercial aviation facility, our expertise will help you navigate the complexities of determining costs.

See More: https://coastalsteelstructures.com/mastering-lead-qualification-solutions-and-support-for-contractor-success/

#hangar construction cost #how much to build a hangar #aircraft hangar #hangar kit

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fwckriley · 1 year

Note

Just a suggestion but how about a fic where Ghost is incredibly protective over the reader but doesn’t realise it’s because he’s actually in love with her

Simping for this man I swear 🧎‍♀️

The Trials and Tribulations of Being in Love Pt 1.

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Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word Count: 4.098

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He shouldn't have come. This mission was hers, and hers alone. When they told her that Ghost had requested to accompany her on the mission, at first she felt angry, but after they embarked together, that feeling diminished. It was comforting to have someone familiar by her side, of course, she would never admit to him that she was grateful. She and Ghost had participated in previous missions together. However, as much as his presence pleased her, she was still angry that he had interfered in her mission. She refused to talk to him, but he didn't seem affected. Honestly, he even seemed to like it.

She was assigned to investigate an international arms trafficking led by a dealer whose identity was unknown. Her task was to find out who the dealer was, where he was, and to prevent the sale of weapons into the hands of Iranian military.

They had just landed at Tengah Air Base in Singapore. As she and Ghost got off the aircraft, the hot sun of Singapore hit their faces, indicating it was already late. The heat was strong, but there was a gentle breeze that made the weather pleasant. Tengah Air Base was bustling, with many people coming and going. Planes took off and landed, generating a deafening noise that seemed never to cease. There was a crowd of uniformed military personnel running back and forth, transporting equipment and luggage. Some were waiting in line to board one of the planes. Others chatted in groups, laughing and smoking. Some civilian workers in orange uniforms carried boxes and equipment into one of the hangars, while a supply truck entered the base, raising clouds of dust. Soon, a local-looking man greeted them with a polite gesture and signaled for her and Ghost to follow him. He led them to a discreet black car parked near the runway and opened the door for them to get in. The inside of the vehicle was cool and comfortable, a relief from the heat outside.

The agent seemed nervous, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he tried to maintain small talk, but his voice trembled with anxiety. Ghost remained silent, seeming lost in his own thoughts, his face expressionless. Meanwhile, she answered a question or two with disinterest, looking out at the urban landscape passing by. The tall buildings of Singapore rose majestically in the distance, forming an imposing silhouette against the sky. The streets were filled with hurried cars, blaring horns, and pedestrians rushing to escape the chaotic traffic.

Upon arriving at the hotel, which was half an hour away from the city, she and Ghost headed to their assigned room. The environment was simple, with rustic wooden furniture and white walls, without great luxuries or extravagant decorations. She observed the room, noticing details such as the two single beds with white sheets and a small built-in closet in the wall. Upon closing the door to the room, she sighed deeply, feeling the fatigue from the long flight and the confusion of time zones. Her eyes wandered around the room, noticing the open window and the fresh breeze that came in, bringing with it the scent of the forest. With a quick movement, she threw her bag on the bed and turned to Ghost, who was organizing the baggage in the room. He had taken most of her baggage. She didn't even argue against it.

"It's not the best room I've ever stayed in, but it's better than nothing," she commented with a smirk. Ghost simply nodded his head without saying a word.

She approached the window, admiring the vast green expanse of the forest that stretched out before her. The sun still shone brightly in the sky, giving a golden hue to the surroundings. With her hands resting on the windowsill, she felt the breeze hit her face, bringing a slight relief. Turning around, she walked towards her bed, pulling out the black folder she had brought with her. With agile fingers, she carefully opened it, revealing the detailed information about the arms trafficking operation that was inside. Her eyes quickly scanned the pages, absorbing every detail.

She looks at Ghost and asks, "So, what do you have in mind?"

"We need a contact in Singapore, someone who can give us information without raising suspicions."

She crosses her arms and retorts sarcastically, "Oh, is that all? That easy?"

Ghost turns around and faces her.

"No, it's not easy. That's why you're here."

"Oh, and here I was thinking I was on vacation," she says sarcastically. He rolls his eyes and moves away, going to the window.

After a few minutes of silence, she looks at Ghost and says, "There's a guy I worked with once. I met him in..."

"Is he trustworthy?"

She shrugs.

"I trust him as much as I trust you."

Ghost snorted and turns his face back to the window, saying nothing.

"I'll call him and see what I can do," she replied as she got up from the bed and went to a more private place.

❖

After a few failed attempts, she finally managed to arrange a meeting at a bar in the city. When she returned to the room, she found Ghost sitting on the edge of the bed tinkering with his equipment. She approached him and informed him about the scheduled meeting.

"I got it. He wants to meet me at eight in a bar at Marina Bay," she said with a satisfied smile.

“Okay, I'll get ready,” Ghost replied, already getting up from the bed.

“You were not invited, Ghost,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He looked at her as if challenging her to stop him.

"Ghost, seriously. First, he's my contact and a really difficult guy to deal with. He's going to be suspicious if someone he doesn't know shows up, especially if that person is six feet three inches tall and looks like a damn refrigerator wearing a weird skeleton balaclava." As she spoke, her tone of voice increased, not quite yelling, but her previous bad mood was becoming more evident. She stopped herself before continuing. "Second, they might recognize you. And nobody can know we have a SAS lieutenant here, got it? It'll ruin the mission."

He stared at her for a long time. She could see him struggling with his thoughts. After a few seconds, he simply shook his head and went back to tinkering with his gear.

"As you wish," he said emotionlessly. "But you'll keep me updated."

"I'll keep you updated," she repeated.

"And you'll behave. And if anything goes wrong, you'll let me know immediately and find shelter," he continued.

"Whatever you say, goes," she assured him.

He nodded. "Get ready."

And as ordered, she promptly started to get ready for the meeting. She dressed carefully, wearing a discreet outfit and no flashy accessories, so as not to draw attention from the regular customers of the bar.

As she entered the bar, she felt a bit anxious. The loud music mixed with the sound of lively conversations and glasses being placed on tables. The dim lights made it difficult to see the surroundings. She walked towards the counter, where she ordered a drink and observed the environment carefully. Small tables and uncomfortable chairs were filled with a variety of people. Minutes later, her old contact arrived at the bar and he immediately recognized her. He looked older, but equally handsome, his dark skin contrasting with his elegant purple suit. Not at all flashy, she thought. They greeted each other with a nod and sat at a more secluded table, where they could talk more privately.

❖

After the meeting, she returned to the hotel. Ghost was checking his weapons and communication equipment again, a habit he learned over the years in the SAS. He did it a thousand times during missions, always trying to make sure everything was perfect. The only illumination came from a weak and yellow lamp, leaving the room with a dark tone. His bed was full of guns. She entered the room, closing the door softly. He turned around abruptly, holding his pistol firmly. Their eyes met, and he lowered the gun as soon as he recognized her.

"It’s me," she identified herself. Ghost sighed and turned his attention back to his equipment, without offering any response or greeting.

She approached and sat at the table, where there were documents and maps spread out.

"So, what do we have?" he asked, without looking up from the equipment.

"He said the guy we're looking for is known as The Merchant, but he doesn't know how to find him. However, if we want to find out more, we could start by looking for the port of Singapore. Apparently, it's an important trafficking point," she explained, pointing to the map.

“Which means it’s heavily guarded.”

“Wouldn't be fun if it wasn't.” She said with a smile “There’s more. He said he heard that in two days a group of Iranian military officials will arrive to make the weapons purchase.”

“Matches up with the info Laswell gave me,” Ghost said.

“I can try to infiltrate the operation and gather more intel on the flow of weapons and how they’re being transported.” She proposed, confidently.

Ghost nodded in agreement.

“Not going to be easy,” he replied.

She looked at the map attentively, searching for a point of entry.

“Where do you think we can get in?”

“Through the fish loading dock, it's less monitored and gives access to the restricted area of the port,” Ghost suggested.

“And what about the Iranians arriving in two days?” she asked.

"We have to act fast. If we infiltrate now, there will be fewer people present and the darkness will give us an advantage. In the meantime, I'll stay in a strategic position, providing cover and support in case something goes wrong."

She nodded her head, already thinking about the details of the operation. She grabbed her computer and began analyzing the port images, looking for possible weak spots. Ghost approached, getting so close that she could feel the heat of his body. She tried to ignore it as much as possible and continued.

"I don't like this," said Ghost, pointing to one of the surveillance cameras in the port. "They have eyes everywhere."

"If we know where the cameras are, we can avoid them and move more easily."

"It's risky," said Ghost, "You'll have to be very careful..."

"Understood," she said, getting up. She began checking her weapons and equipment, while Ghost prepared his sniper rifle.

"Is everything ready?" she asked.

"Yes, what about you?"

She nodded her head.

"Then let's go."

The two of them left the hotel room and headed for the port of Singapore.

❖

It was midnight and the streets were practically deserted, with few cars circulating that part of the city. The port of Singapore was a few kilometers away and they headed there on foot.

"There's an observation point over there," Ghost said, pointing to a small building near the port. "I'm heading there."

"Great," she said, giving a mischievous smile. "Let's have some fun."

"Stay focused, agent. Security here is tight. One mistake and everything could go downhill."

"Yes, I know," she replied, with a more serious tone.

"Wait for me to give you the signal before you enter," Ghost said.

“Understood.”

“Take care of yourself. I don't want to have to carry your dead body around.”

“Oh, you're so sweet. I'm touched. Really.” She placed her hand over her heart in a theatrical gesture. He ignored her.

They parted ways and went in opposite directions.

When she arrived at the port, she successfully infiltrated it with Ghost's help in avoiding the security cameras. She crept through the shadows, avoiding the most brightly lit and crowded areas. With every step, she looked around, searching for signs of surveillance or alarms. Ghost silently accompanied her on the other side of the radio, giving precise instructions and alerting her to potential dangers only when needed. Typical, she thought.

The night was dark, with no stars in the sky. There was a cool breeze blowing, carrying with it the salty smell of the sea. The stacked containers reached impressive heights, creating a kind of maze. The port lights only partially illuminated the area, creating deep and dark shadows that moved with the wind. She walked quietly, staying low and hidden among the cargo.

Meanwhile, Ghost was stationed in a nearby building overlooking the port. The building he was in was old and had dirty, dusty windows. He used his sniper rifle to keep an eye on the entire area and provide cover for her. There was an open laptop next to him, flashing with real-time images from various security cameras scattered throughout the port.

"You've reached the entry point," he said through the radio. "There are no guards in the area. Enter and proceed forward."

She followed the instructions, advancing towards the entrance. When she arrived, she hid in the shadows and looked around, checking for any more guards or cameras.

"No sign of activity," she said, without pausing. "I'm entering now."

"Be careful," said Ghost.

She let out a mocking laugh.

"Don't worry, Ghost. I won't screw everything up."

"I hope not," he said, clearly annoyed.

"Relax," she said, trying to ease the tension. "I have everything under control."

He didn't respond. She knew he wasn't happy with the situation, but she couldn't help but find it funny.

"You know, Ghost," she said, the malice in her voice, "I love it when you're mad. Gets my blood pumping."

"Don't start with that now," he replied, in a warning tone.

She laughed again. "I know you like it."

He sighed and turned off the radio. She laughed again, feeling victorious. She knew she had managed to irritate him, but she also knew he would never leave her in danger.

"There's a guard coming your way. Get behind those containers," he whispered through the earpiece.

As she approached the heart of the port, activity increased. She noticed an area with reinforced security and armed guards, likely where the weapons shipments were kept. She knew she needed to get closer to get a clearer view. Carefully, she went unnoticed by security guards and walked through dark alleys, alert to any sign of danger.

"You're getting close to the restricted area," Ghost warned. "Be cautious."

She approached slowly, observing the guards' activity and patrol routes. Still hidden in the shadows, she prepared to move when the right moment came.

"There's a guard coming your way," Ghost whispered again.

She quickly hid and waited patiently as the guard passed, unaware of her presence. When he moved away, she advanced again. Finally, she reached the restricted area and peered through a crack in the crates. Inside, she saw a row of reinforced containers, guarded by several armed men. She focused on her breathing, remaining calm and focused.

"Are you seeing anything?" Ghost asked through the radio.

"They're guarding the weapons containers, just as we suspected," she whispered back.

"Okay, I'll cover you from here," Ghost said. "But be careful."

With Ghost's words in mind, she carefully planned her next move. She needed to get closer to get a clear view of what was inside the containers. Cautiously, she approached the entrance of the restricted area, always hiding in the shadows and avoiding the lights.

"Ghost, I think I found something. I'm going to investigate," she said to him through the earpiece.

Ghost remained in his position, watching her every move, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. Meanwhile, she advanced cautiously, dodging the henchmen and hiding behind crates and containers. She observed two men talking in hushed tones near a large green container. She approached stealthily, trying to listen in on what they were saying, but before she could get close enough, one of the men spotted her. The man was about to shout an alert when Ghost took him out. She drew her pistol and fired, hitting the other man squarely. She approached the green container and opened it carefully, finding a large quantity of weapons and ammunition, all American-made and bearing the seals of a US arms industry.

"They're trafficking American weapons to the Iranians," she whispered.

"Copy that. Get out of there fast. There's a group nearby," Ghost replied.

She carefully closed the container and moved stealthily through the port, remaining alert to every movement. Despite the orders to leave, she decided to hide and wait for the group to pass by her. She advanced cautiously, following the group from a distance, hiding behind crates and containers.

Ghost tried to persuade her through the earpiece to turn back and wait for a more propitious moment, but she ignored him. She arrived at a warehouse, where men were loading boxes onto a truck. She watched as they loaded the boxes onto the truck. Unlike the boxes in the container, these bore the flag of Germany.

"These weapons are German," she said to Ghost through the earpiece. However, he didn't respond. She tried to communicate with him a few more times, but still no answer.

That was when Ghost appeared by her side, surprising her.

"You shouldn't have come alone," he said in a reproachful tone. "You're putting your life at risk."

"I thought we could find out more, and guess what? I was right," she nodded towards the boxes marked with the German flag.

He held her arm tightly and pulled her close to him.

"Let's get out of here before we're discovered," he said urgently. "Several cars arrived with guards. Were you listening to me? I told you to wait."

He looked at her with anger. If she didn't know him, she could swear there was concern in his eyes.

"I was following a lead that I deemed important, and I was right. There are American and German weapons here," she replied, trying to justify her actions.

"You don't understand the gravity of the situation. Now we're surrounded," retorted Ghost, his voice growing louder. "Tell me, Y/N, how do you plan to get us out of here?"

He never called her by her first name. She opened her mouth to argue and closed it several times.

"I'll figure something out," she finally said.

"Oh, you'll figure something out. Are you going to teleport us?" he teased.

"You're being impossible, seriously."

"I'm only being impossible because you're being irresponsible," he countered.

The two continued arguing in a louder tone, until they caught the attention of the guards, who began to approach them. Ghost and her stepped back, but the guarda had already spotted them. They drew their guns and began shooting. One of them aimed in her direction, and Ghost quickly moved her aside. Quickly the guards went on alert.

He kept a firm stance and a serious expression as he moved with agility, trying to find cover between the boxes. She could feel her heart racing, adrenaline taking over her body. She tried to argue with Ghost, but he seemed to have taken the lead of the situation and didn't want to hear her suggestions.

"We don't have time for this now. We need to get out of here before they find us," said Ghost, trying to find a way out. "Let's go."

They moved quickly and managed to escape the location before the henchman reached them. As they ran through the port, shots echoed behind them.

"Damn the moment I decided to follow you!" Ghost shouted, still angry with her. "I told you it wasn't safe, but you never listen to me."

"I never asked you to come on this mission in the first place," she retorted, annoyed with him.

"If I hadn't come, you'd be dead by now."

"We won't get anything done if we keep blaming each other," she said.

"I'm not blaming us. I'm blaming you," he said before running towards a clear path to the left. Without hesitation, she followed him and both entered a maze of containers, using them as cover while exchanging shots with the henchmen.

One of the shots grazed her arm, making her groan in pain.

"Are you okay?" Ghost asked, concerned.

"I'm fine. Don't worry," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she reloaded her gun.

They kept moving, searching for an exit. The shots decreased, giving them a chance to catch their breath. They hid behind a container, regaining their breath and assessing the situation.

In a stroke of luck, she noticed an open gate and pointed it out to Ghost. He looked in the indicated direction and, without hesitation, started running towards it. She followed him, her quick steps echoing on the ground. The gate was huge. There was an armed guard standing in front of it, but for some reason, he seemed distracted. The open gate led to a wide road with many cars passing by. As they approached the gate, the guard finally noticed their presence and tried to close it, but it was too late. Ghost hit him with a knife, and he fell to the ground soon after.

They ran down the street trying to get rid of the guards who were chasing them. When they saw the entrance to the subway ahead, they approached it without hesitation and entered. People moved away, frightened, as they passed by. She couldn't help but think of the guards who were still chasing them, looking over her shoulder at all times to check if they were being followed. At one point, one of the guards managed to catch up to her and grab her, but she freed herself with an elbow strike to his rib and a kick to his stomach. In the midst of the confusion, she also managed to grab the cell phone of the guard who had grabbed her.

She looked at Ghost and spoke in a low and urgent tone:

"We need to find a way to get rid of them and get out of here."

"I agree," replied Ghost, watching the crowded platform of people coming and going.

They jumped the turnstile and ran to the train platform that was about to leave.

"Let's take the next train," she said to him. Ghost nodded in agreement.

They got on the subway car and concealed themselves amidst the crowd, blending in with the passengers. Glancing out the window, they saw the guards running towards them. The subway car was packed with people, all squeezing together for space. The air was permeated with a mix of sweat and metal. She and Ghost blended themselves in with the passengers. The guards showed up on the opposite end of the subway car, scanning around. Then, the gunfight erupted. Gunshots reverberated through the subway car, and the passengers shrunk in fear, trying to find a secure place to shield themselves. She and Ghost attempted to dodge the bullets and retaliate, but swiftly realized they were outnumbered. They spotted an emergency door close by and didn't think twice before trying their luck. With a shove from Ghost, the door swung open, and they hurled themselves into the dark tunnel, clueless of where they were headed.

Finally, they saw an entrance to a ventilation duct and crawled inside, trying to hide. Her hearts were still beating, and her breaths were tired as she and Ghost recovered from the escape.

The ventilation duct was dark and narrow, but it would do. She and Ghost squeezed into the tight space, trying to find a more comfortable position. The air was stuffy and dusty. She looked at Ghost and saw that he had a tense expression, probably still processing what had happened. They fell silent, listening to the sound of their own breaths and trying to detect any sounds that could indicate the presence of the guards. Time seemed to pass slowly, and she wondered how long it would be safe to stay there. After half an hour, Ghost spoke:

"You ruined everything. You could have gotten us killed."

"We're running against time, it seemed like a good idea to try and find out more intel. I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," Ghost retorted. "You could have waited for more information, for a better plan. But no, you always have to do things your way and on your own time."

She sighed. She knew she had made a mistake, but she couldn't change what had already happened.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down.

"I hope so," he said.

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if you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience!!! i know there are mistakes, both in typing and in english, but please keep in mind that english is not my native language. I hope you enjoyed it. ❥ ❥ ❥

#modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley headcanons #cod imagine #simon riley x y/n #cod mw ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #simon ghost riley x you #ghost call of duty #ghost headcanons

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silicon-tmblr · 4 months

Text

[Reposting this because I'm dumb stupid and don't know how reblogs work! This was supposed to be a reblog of this post by @g0nta-g0kuhara, a multi-part analysis of Kokichi Oma in Chapter 4]

Ooh a meta post! Sends me back to when I was first researching the DRV3 fandom before playing the game (I'm a little backwards, I know...). I only read the one part, but I wanted to chime in with some additions on top of the existing analysis.

Interestingly, the "neutral Kokichi face" that's highlighted in this post is one of two "neutral faces" that Kokichi makes throughout the game. That would be stand_005_037, or Kokichi's 37th sprite.

The other "neutral face" is the next sprite over, stand_005_038, which appears in a different context from the previous sprite. The difference between the two is really not terribly noticeable at a glance, so here's a visual.

Up to now, I've considered sprite 37 to be Kokichi's "unserious neutral", as his expression appears more relaxed than that of sprite 38, what I've thought to be his "serious neutral".

You know he's not serious when he's agreeing with Maki.

With the information from this analysis, though, it might be more accurate to call it his "masking neutral". Kokichi will use sprite 38 in low-emotion situations when he has a point to get across, like here in the Chapter 3 post-trial.

However, in high-emotion situations, as said in the initial analysis post, Kokichi is likely trying to hold himself back. That's when sprite 37 comes in.

Bro is either stifling a laugh or seething with anger in there

Regarding Kokichi's sprite 38, there's some stuff I've come across which loosely implies that it initially had a different design. When Kaito recaps his conversation with Kokichi in the hangar in the Chapter 5 post-trial, the conversation is portrayed with a sepia tone. The sprites for this conversation aren't really "sprites", per-se -- the entire scenario is actually stored as a series of background images in the game files.

One image that caught my attention, however, was bg_201_11:

On my first playthrough of the game, I dubbed this sprite "Kokichi angy"

This image stands out at a glance because of the Kokichi sprite, which isn't seen anywhere else in the entire game. Compared to the other images in the set, this image actually seems to be from an older build of the game, as the shadows in the background, shading on the sprites, and position of Kokichi's arm-belt-things are different.

bg_201_11 vs bg_201_01

My guess is that this unused sprite was an older version of sprite 38, especially since the current sprite 38 has similar errors as the older sprite.

Personally, I'm glad "Kokichi angy" wasn't actually used in the final game. He looks a little too much like a wet cat.

On another topic, also related to the linked analysis: let's talk about the ever controversial whiteboard note written by Kokichi under Shuichi's photo which, in the English localization, reads "trustworthy?"

As many people have pointed out, both now and in the past, this note was translated oddly and the original text was 「油断ならない？」 (yudan naranai?).

Though it's often translated by fans as “sneaky or cunning”, the literal translation is actually “don't be careless”, with “yudan” meaning “careless” and “naranai” meaning “must not (be)”. This is translateable in most situations as “dangerous”, hence that being the stock translation supplied by Jisho.org.

After all, "don't be careless" has essentially the same meaning as "this is dangerous", in most situations at least (think mountain climbing, or traveling through a dark alley; you wouldn't want to be careless because it is dangerous, you don't know what to expect so it's treacherous and sneaky).

When translating a note regarding a person, though, I would think "don't be careless" would be more appropriate, especially considering Shuichi isn't particularly dangerous compared to some other people in the academy whose dangers are well known (*cough cough* Maki)

You can find the independent translated meanings of yudan and naranai on Jisho as well as on Wikitionary (yudan, naranai).

So, Kokichi is essentially telling himself to stay on his guard around Shuichi, since he doesn't know what to expect from him. His attempt to team up with Shuichi in Chapter 4 was probably his confirmation that Shuichi wanted nothing to do with him, and that he should formulate his plans accordingly. It would probably have been ideal for him to have Shuichi on his side, as he saw Shuichi as a wild card (rather ironically; I'd imagine the group perceives Kokichi as the wild card of the group). So despite the translation error, the points made by the linked analysis still hold decent ground.

All in all, despite my belief that Chapter 4 is absolutely ridiculous, the linked analysis is quite good when one assumes Chapter 4 is logically sound (it's not), and still holds up even to someone like me who really dislikes Chapter 4 for its severe logical fallacies (my suspension of disbelief was absolutely thrown out the window when I played it... but maybe that's a matter for another day)

#I kinda put too much effort into this to lose it to my bad tumblr-ing so I reposted it #So; sorry if you're seeing it again #also adding my tags into the main body because I wanted to go into that in more detail #drv3 #danganronpa v3 #kokichi oma #kokichi ouma #silicon-writes #also sorry if I tagged the original post(er) too many times...

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honkytonk-hangman · 10 months

Text

Goodness! Gracious!

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You wouldn't say you were trying to give your 'Uncle' Mav a taste of his own medicine, after all, it was him who introduced you to Rooster in the first place, but you weren't exactly trying to spare the man, either.

Notes: Reader is named Grace for ease of writing, and is Charlie Blackwood's daughter. I headcanon Charlie as a lesbian like her actress, but have not described reader with any traits aside curly hair. this is just a little thing that has been on my mind, idk yet if i'll write more, but let me know!

I would love to hear any feedback!!! <3

Masterlist

“Hello? Anyone home?” you call out, slipping your sunglasses off to better see inside the slightly dishevelled space in front of you, also taking a moment to remove the scarf from your head, and place both items in your purse. A sound that could only belong to a heavy tool as it clatters to the ground somewhere further inside the building, followed by a sharp scraping noise on the bare concrete flooring, like a stool being kicked out of place hurriedly at the sudden appearance of visitors. You straighten up, giving your head a much-practised gentle little shake that you know tousles your curls perfectly every time.

You take a few steps further into the open hangar bay door, the soft echo of the approaching footsteps making you turn, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning with genuinely excitement at the sight of the man who steps out from behind one of several tall crates, looking around curiously as he wipes an already blackened cloth over his hands, however he falters when he spots you, the rag quickly tossed to the nearest surface as his own face lights up in a wide smile.

“Grace?!” Maverick exclaims in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, not only at your impromptu stop by at his Hangar, but at your presence on the West Coast as a whole. Regardless of any confusion though, he hurries toward you, wrapping you up in a warm hug that you more than happily return, holding onto Mav tightly for a few seconds before you break away again.

“What are you doing here?” Mav asks, his hands holding your shoulders now as if he was getting a good look at you for the first time in years, despite the fact that you were in regular contact. “I thought your Mom said something about you being North of the border until after Christmas!?” he goes on to add, his brows furrowing in concern. You roll your eyes playfully, and flick your hair.

“How that woman works for the bloody Pentagon mystifies me sometimes,” you chortle, and shake your head again. “No, I was asked to take the lead on a project up at the headquarters in Canada, but… I… I actually quit,” you reveal the truth like ripping a bandaid off, although you know telling Maverick the news was never going to be the hardest part.

His face converts briefly into shock before it deepens once more into concerns, his hands squeeze your shoulders firmly, and he takes half a step closer to you as if to conceal your conversation from the prying ears of his various boxes and crates.

“What happened, are you alright?” he sounds a little flustered as he asks, unsure what to even begin asking, but you quickly raise a hand to rest on one of his own outstretched ones and give it a warm pat and a reassuring smile.

“Everything’s fine, Mav, I know it’s kinda outta the blue, but it’s not for any bad reason…” you trail off realising although Maverick was the easier person to admit your truth to, explaining the whys seemed to suddenly become much harder.

Maverick nods carefully, but adjusts his tone and expression to match your own calm. You shrug, briefly looking away from him and toward the Cessna you can now see is tucked toward the back of the left side of the hangar. You squint at it, but force yourself to look back at Mav before speaking again.

“I don’t know how to explain it to you, or mom. I just realised I wasn’t happy anymore…” you swallow shakily and shrug your shoulders as best you can with Mav’s hands still holding them. You see his eyes searching your features but something very quickly in his demeanour relents and he softens.

“Hey, you don’t need to explain anything. Knowing that you weren’t happy is more than enough for me,” he tells you, and it’s almost embarrassing how immediately your heart becomes lighter.

“All my life I never had to worry about what I was going to do,”

“Your mom’s used to love it when you’d get asked what you wanted to be when you got older, and you’d confidently shout ‘Aeronautical Engineer’.” Mav chuckles warmly, and you can;t help but share his smile.

“Except for that one year-long period I wanted to be a Naval Aviator, like you,” you remind him, making him nod in vague remembrance.

“Remind me, was it the Cessna 172 flight I took you on that changed your mind?” he asks, earning an immediate embarrassed groan from you.

“God, you’d think at sixteen I’d have given more thought to what flying was actually like…” you roll your eyes, but you both share another laugh at the memory of you begging Mav not to tell your Mom’s how much you’d hated the surprise they’d organised for you, though you’d missed the knowing look the three adults had shared over lunch later.

Mav gives you a final little check-over as the laughter softens, and he squeezes your shoulders once more, before finally dropping his hands.

“I’m guessing the reason I haven’t already heard about this from your mom is because she doesn’t know…?” Maverick ventures, knowing Charlie would have forgone her usual email, and gone straight for a video-call to share news like this.

“... I know I need to tell her, but I just wanted to have something else figured out first, or a plan, or a…” you trail off knowing you had no real reason good enough for not telling her. “... I don’t want her to be disappointed in me…”

Maverick gives you a soft ‘tsk’ as he shakes his head, but his expression remains soft and he reaches out to take one of your fidgeting hands.

“Grace, believe me when I say I know how you feel. When your mom believes in you, it feels like that's all you could ever need to succeed, but as hard as it can be to feel like you’re going to let her down, if I’ve learned anything in the past thirty-something years, it’s that there's no such thing as disappointing Charlie Blackwood.”

You stare at him, feeling a little disbelief at his sentiments, but knowing for a fact that he of all people wouldn’t lie to you about this. You open your mouth to try and say something, anything, but before you can, he tightens his grip on your joined hands and gives you a knowing little smile.

“I know you have to learn that for yourself, but don’t sell her short, alright?” he asks, making your mouth shut tightly, but after a few moments you give him a short smile. He squeezes your fingers a final time before releasing you and placing his hands on his hips.

“So you planning on hiding out on the West Coast, then?” Mav asks lightly, as if you hadn’t just had a day-altering conversation with him. You nod a few times to clear your head, and cough away the tightness in your throat.

“I was actually hoping I could convince you to give me the keys to Mom’s chalet… at least until I find somewhere to stay,” you tell him.

Maverick’s eyebrows shoot up slightly, but he nods.

“You’re planning on staying out here a while then?” he asks, and you shrug, but relent your coyness quickly.

“I’ve got a job here in San Diego. How about I tell you and Penny about it over dinner soon?” you offer, feeling an edge of excitement fill your voice again. Maverick considers you for a few seconds, before dropping his hands from his hips as he nods.

“That sounds great. You know, you’re welcome to stay with Penny and I, but I think the chalet is probably more ideal while you get back on your feet.” he says in that way that tells you he really did understand you on a level many people just didn’t.

You open your mouth to reply something about living with newlyweds when you’re cut off by the sudden slamming of a car door behind you, the approach of another car going entirely unnoticed by the both of you in the midst of your heart-to-heart, but there’s mistaking the voice that immediately follows arrival.

“Mav?” this time the voice is closer, letting you make out the deepness and slight rasp this time. You turn to the open hangar door that you’d entered only minutes prior, where the silhouette of a tall, seemingly very fit man stands admiring your ride, and mimicking the way Maverick had just been stood with his hands on his hips, the man gets a good eyeful of your baby and lets out an impressed whistle.

The newcomer is only just pulling himself away from admiring your car when Maverick steps past you, holding a hand out to make introductions. Immediately once the taller man has stepped past the threshold, you take note of the way his eyes barely touch on Mav at all, instead snapping straight to your figure. You’re glad you decided to put a little more time into your appearance today, glad you’d bothered securing your hair with a scarf.

The stranger is both very tall and extremely fit, like you’d glimpsed from his shadow, but now that he nears and removes his sunglasses, you’re treated to the rest of his handsome features, strong and confident, his honey brown hair short but curling in slight waves where it’s been allowed to grow a little longer. His face is clean shaven except for a thick, dark moustache that he honestly pulls off more than you think he has any right to.

He seems vaguely familiar, you think, and briefly before Maverick speaks again, you see him come to the same thought.

“Rooster, you remember Grace Blackwood, don’t you? Charlie’s daughter?” Mav asks just as the man, Rooster comes to a stop in front of you.

“I think you were still a kid last time you saw each other,” Mav says mostly to you, but your memory has already been jogged, though you’re most familiar with Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw from name alone, hearing about the fallout between he and Mav from your mother more than anything.

“Right, the future aerospace engineer, right?” Rooster asks, lips quirked up as he clearly gives you another once-over, though this time attempting to be more subtle about it. “You get around to building that mega-sonic jet yet?” he asks, making your eyebrows tilt up into your hairline.

“I’m surprised you remember that,” you tell him truthfully with a laugh, but don’t bother to let yourself be embarrassed. “But no, mega-sonic technology has yet to be harnessed. But you’ll be one of the first to hear about it once it is,” you add warmly.

You recall then the time you had discovered that the older boy harboured dreams of being a Naval Aviator like Uncle Mav, and had subsequently cornered him for the afternoon, insisting that he take a look through your portfolio of various jet plane designs complete with detailed notes. To his credit, you remembered that he had spent an acceptable amount of time looking over each design, and had even asked you questions your mom’s or Mav hadn’t thought of.

“Do you prefer Rooster or Bradley these days?” You ask when the memory has passed you by, noticing how he seems to jump at your words, seemingly distracted completely. Your smile widens more and you cock your head.

“Rooster, Rooster is fine,” he tells you, shaking your hand firmly when you offer your own, his eyes locked on yours.

“Still go by Gracie?” he prompts after a moment's silence, neither of you seeming to realise that although having completed your handshake, you now simply stood with entwined hands. You wonder if it’s a coincidence that his gaze dips at the same moment your skin prickles with goosebumps, brought on solely by your name on his lips.

“Definitely,” you tell him. No reason occurs to you in that moment to tell him that you hadn’t allowed anybody to call you ‘Gracie’ since you were about thirteen, not even the men you’d dated since.

Maverick clears his throat loudly, and both you and Rooster tear your eyes apart, followed quickly by your hands. The older man looks between the two of you with as much evenness as he can seemingly muster, though you notice he gives Rooster a longer, sharper gaze.

“I’ll grab those keys for you Grace,” Mav tells you, his eyes swinging back to you and you blink at the slightly narrowed look of warning you find there. Unable to do anything but blink innocently, he seems to hesitate before stepping away, back toward the trailer in the back.

You watch Maverick jog back to his trailer, before shifting your gaze to the man in front of you. To your amusement you find him also following Mav’s retreat, though his eyes snap down to yours quickly as if sensing them on him.

“You’re hanging around San Diego?” he asks simply, making you wonder how much he’d heard about you since he and Mav had made up.

“That’s the plan. I start a new job next week,” you inform him, earning a frown of curiosity from him, and he cocks his head.

“Mav said something about you making it big with Lockheed–”

“–Changed my mind,” you cut him off quickly, feeling anxiety beat loudly against your chest, but it’s silenced almost immediately when Rooster swivels his eyes away from you, nodding as he does.

“Fair enough,” he replies after a moment, still not looking back at you, almost as if he could sense your nervousness. Clearing your throat and tousling your hair for your own confidence alone, you straighten and let a coolness enter your demeanour once more. Rooster looks back then, eyes studying you lightly.

“It’s still kinda new… so who knows how it’ll go…” you tell him, shrugging. He shrugs back, but nods once.

“Least you’re going for it. Most people would rather stay comfortable than take a chance on the unknown… Even if things don’t go how you plan, I doubt you’ll look back in ten years time and regret trying.”

You blink in surprise at Rooster’s words, and for the first time during this entire re-introduction, you get a real sense of the man he’d become in the years since you’d seen him last, and if anything, you find yourself drawn in even more by that than all his tender gazes and unsubtle flirting combined.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you say softly, ducking your head briefly before meeting his eye again. “I needed that.”

You see him smile, before his eyes flicker to movement over your shoulder and he clears his throat, adjusting to point back at your car parked in plain view.

“You sure you won’t let me take her for a spin?” He says loudly, almost confusing you before you hear Mav’s trailer door shut behind you. Placing your hands on your hips you shake your head, playing along.

“Look, I only just convinced mom to give her to me, and I’m not risking her just cause some flyboy pilot bats his eyelashes at me!” you reply, earning an amused side glance from the flyboy in question.

“Well if your heart ever thaws some…” Rooster trails off just as Maverick joins you once more, appearing convinced by the faux-argument.

“Rooster, I wouldn’t set your heart on it,” Maverick tells him, handing you the keys to your Mom’s North Island chalet. You spin them showily, and can’t help yourself from sending the other man a wink.

“But hey, maybe if you ask nicely, one day I’ll take you for a ride,” you say innocently, watching as Rooster blinks down at you, eyes widening slightly as he processes your double entendre, just as Mav coughs and claps his hands together.

“Don’t let us hold you up any longer, Grace, I’m sure you’ve got lots to do,” Mav suggests, making you roll your eyes, but you take his dismissal easily, leaning in to give him a brief, tight hug. When you pull away, Rooster makes no move other than to shove his hands in his pockets and give you a seemingly friendly nod.

“Don’t hesitate to ask if you need any help settling in,” he says, sounding flippant enough, though his eyes tell you a different story.

You bid both men goodbye and saunter purposefully toward your baby, making a show of climbing in, fixing your scarf over your curls, and lastly, slipping your shades back over your eyes. You can see Rooster still in place, hands on his hips again as he watches you start the engine, only turning away from you when something from behind him causes him to jump. Your amused grin is the last thing he must see as he turns away from you, and you can’t help but wear it the entire way home.

#rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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kaymarie-bell · 2 years

Text

Idia’s Backstory Translation

Don’t look at me I’m a mess rn

Disclaimer: my own translation, just for entertainment purposes, there might be mistakes. Proceed to suffer.

Idia: My whole life was decided before I was even born.

“The Guardian of the Island of Woe”

That’s my future job.

Those who are born into the Shroud family are able to burn off accumulated blot in their bodies easily…

It is an unique magic that opens and closes the gates of “The Underworld”

Researcher A: Idia-sama is truly excellent in both academics and magic.

Researcher A: Experts in the magic engineering field are especially interested in him. He’s a genius.

Researcher B: Yes. The future of [S.T.Y.X.] is secure with him.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

For an ordinary child, that’s a question that will be asked to them at least once.

Would it be alright if someone asked me once as well?

[Run like a meteor, aiming for distant glory!]

Young Ortho: Hang in there, Big Brother! Hit Chronos’ army!

Young Idia: Yes! Hard Mode cleared!

Young Ortho: As expected of my brother! You defeated Chronos’ army!

Young Idia: Ahhh. I want to go on adventures to the outside world like the hero of [Star Rogue].

Young Ortho: Me too! I’m going on an adventure with my brother too!

Young Ortho: Then, we can be heroes who beat the bad guys together.

Young Idia: Heroes….I thought I might be able to go with Ortho, but I guess I can’t.

Young Ortho: Why? I want to be with my brother.

Young Idia: Because when I grow up, I have to take over the household…

Young Ortho: Well, what about before you grow up?

Young Idia: Before I grow up…?

Young Ortho: Yeah. You can go on an adventure trip before you grow up, right?

Young Idia: That’s right. I may be able to go outside before I have to take over the household.

Young Idia:…It’s easy to get out of the [Okeanus Hall] if you can break through the security system of the headquarters. That means…

Young Idia:…let’s go on an adventure.

Young Ortho: !! Yes! I want to go!

Young Idia: Leave it to your big brother!

I was just curious.

I just wanted to have a little adventure.

I didn’t think much of it.

I can’t believe it happened-

Young Idia: Heheh. It was easy for me to turn off the security. Is it okay to be able to break in so easily?

Young Ortho: Wow…! It’s my first time in this place.

Young Idia: Ortho, make sure you follow behind me.

Young Idia: you need an amphibious magic vehicle to be able to leave [Okeanus Hall]

Young Idia: Wait just a moment. Now, I just go to the hangar management system…

*Alarm Turns On*

Announcement: An emergency has occurred. The headquarter’s security system has been compromised by an external cyber attack.

Announcement: All detention centres in [Tartarus] have been unlocked. Subject ROS-3367A has escaped from the laboratory building.

Announcement: Charon units to head to [Tartarus] immediately! Non-combatants must evacuate to the shelters quickly!

Young Ortho:…Brother? What’s that sound?

Young Idia: No way…It can’t be…The security system I hacked into and turned off earlier…

Young Idia: N-no. I have to turn it back on!

Young Ortho:…B-big brother!

Young Idia: It’s okay. Your brother is lucky.

Young Ortho: No, brother…there’s something at the end of the corridor!

Young Idia: Eh?!

???: *growls!*

Young Idia: That’s- a monster?!

???: *growls*

I don’t remember what happened from there.

By the time I woke up, Ortho was gone.

Researcher A: I can’t believe that a 10-year-old boy could hack into the world’s highest security system…

Researcher C: He is too much of a genius. I never expected it to end in such a tragedy…

Researcher A: They say that all the phantoms were sent down to the underworld.

Researcher B: Even though there was no other choice….It was an unfortunate incident.

Young Idia: It was my fault. I was the one who told him to go on an adventure.

Young Idia: How can I be a genius if I can’t even protect my brother…? How could I ever be a hero?!

Young Idia: Ortho come back…give me Ortho back…

Young Idia: Every part of Ortho…return his body, his personality, his memories, everything!!

Young Idia:….that’s right.

If he can’t come back on his own, I can just make him.

….It’s okay. I remember everything. I can make the perfect Ortho again.

We promised we would go on an adventure together…

…Just leave it to your big brother.

Researcher A: Idia-sama…It’s been more than two years since he has stayed inside his room.

Researcher B: He has shut his heart ever since losing Ortho-sama.

Researcher C: However, he keeps requesting a large amount of magical parts regularly. Just what the hell is he doing…?

Boy Idia: Boom ba da boom boom boom! Ha! It’s done!! I finished it!

Boy Idia: I finally got it back!

Researcher A: Idia-sama?! Finished? What did you finish?

Boy Idia: Hehehe! What, you say? It’s Ortho!

Ortho: Nice to meet you. I am Ortho.

Boy Idia: What do you think!? It’s a complete reproduction of Ortho’s memories and thought patterns.

Boy Idia: the AI also includes a self-learning algorithm.

Boy Idia: The world’s first magic humanoid that continues to grow on its own. This is [ORTHO]!!

Researcher A: No way…you recreated your younger brother?!

Researcher B: That’s a taboo, Idia-sama!

Boy Idia: Huh? The story of a hero rescuing his girlfriend back from the underworld is considered a beautiful story, but why is it that when it comes to a younger brother it becomes a taboo?

Researcher B: T-that’s…

Boy Idia: Haaa. This is exactly why I dislike ordinary people!

Boy Idia: Would you please stop judging others with subjective ethics or mere emotional arguments?

Boy Idia: My “younger brother” is here because there is nothing physical to prove the existence of a soul.

Boy Idia: And he is stronger, much stronger than the living, he cannot be broken easily.

Boy Idia: If we keep making improvements, one day we can reach the end of the universe with this body. That’s right, Ortho!

Ortho: Hm! [Run like a meteor, aiming for distant glory!]

Boy Idia:…that’s right. Hehe! Both Chronos and the phantoms would be nothing compared to the current Ortho.

Boy Idia: The current Ortho could even be a hero…hehe!…he…hng…*sob*

Ortho: Your frontal cortex is overactive and your autonomic nerves are disturbed. It is recommended that you take a proper rest.

I wonder where I went wrong.

If I hadn’t tried to go on an adventure that day…

No, if I hadn’t yearned to become a hero before that…

Maybe, If I hadn’t been born in the Shroud family in the first place…?

If only…If only we had been born in a normal family…

Having friends to play games with,

Going on adventures,

Talking about our dreams for the future…

I might have become a real hero someday.

How did this happen?

I….

We just wanted to be like everybody else.

…Big brother.

….Ortho?

Thank you for chasing after me. I was very happy.

But, my brother shouldn’t come here yet.

Ortho…Why? I’ll go with you. We made a promise.

Yes. But “someday” is not “now.”

You want to read the rest of that manga, go watch an idol group live, play a new game…

My brother loves this world too much to give everything up.

Ha!? Who would love such a crap world!

It doesn’t matter if all that shit is gone!

You don’t have to be so silly. You don’t have to give up on anything anymore.

My brother has a future.

I want my brother to fulfill the dream we had that day.

Our dream…?

I’m sure it’ll be a long road. And you might be discouraged. But…

You’re my big brother….my elder brother can go anywhere.

No matter how far away the place you dream of is, you will definitely get there.

It’s okay. I’ll be with you forever.

So don’t give up.

Ortho…wait

ORTHO—!!

???: IDIA!

——-

I apologize for any typos or grammatical errors, I could barely see past my tears sorry

Idia's VAs (the usual + the child voice) bodied this whole chapter. I highly recommend listening along.

The way he goes from laughing to crying during the hero line was heartbreaking, and the way he was begging to get Ortho back dealt me some heavy emotional damage. God I loved this chapter.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Ignihyde chapter #ignihyde chapter spoilers #twst chapter 6 #idia shroud #ortho shroud #my translation

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