Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

I am obsessed with your writings - like they literally make my day! I’m a sucker for some angst, so is there anyway we can have some more Cass and John angst?

THANK YOU! I am so happy to share in all my little thoughts and the fact that you all respond in the way that you do makes me so happy.

Angst...how about a little post-war this isn't as easy as we thought musings...

If there was any time for Cass to test the allegedly relaxing properties of cigarettes, it felt like now. John was looking at her with nothing behind his eyes. Like he was made of stone. Her hands were twitching at her sides and she thinks maybe a cigarette would help.

"Please don't speak to me like that." Her arms were crossed over her chest as she put physical distance between them.

"Like what? Like your emotions are invalid to me? Should be fucking familiar to you." Neither of them can really remember how this fight started. Maybe it was the martini or two she had dared to order with dinner. Maybe it was the glasses that had fallen from a waiter's tray and startled John into a cold sweat. Maybe it was the way the man who had shown them to their table looked at the skin of her thighs for an extra beat. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Oh? Yes, John, I'm such a cold person who never understands your heart." He lit his own cigarette and stood from where had been sitting on their bed.

"It's hard sometimes, Cass, to be with someone so capable of closing off their humanity." She felt nauseous at his words. They were a punch straight to her throat. "I'm sorry we can't all shut it off like you. I'm sorry I can't just forget it all and move on the way you have."

"I never asked you to do that." He scoffed as he looked at his shoes.

"You don't have to. It's there in the way you look at me every morning." John was having trouble getting the nightmares to stop. Cass looking at him like he would break was not helping.

"No, I don't want to force you into talking about something that you don't want to. I'm trying to meet you in the middle."

"It's fine. Just another thing we'll hopefully figure out before it ruins us, right? Add it to the fucking list." The tear rolled down her cheek as he walked past her and out the door.

Her hands were shaking.

She needed something stronger than a cigarette.

“Were we ever really here at all?”

since the day you invited me to play soccer i've always been with you. we've promised, right? we're gonna win the world cup together

me when im danny pudi playing a small role in a netflix show

yeah

Just some thoughts again for this episode sorry but....

Kyouka protecting Atsushi

Tanizaki getting triggered when they hurt Kenji (maybe not as unhinged as he is with Naomi but HE WAS PROTECTIVE OF KENJI)

The way the water the ADA stood next to rippled as soon as they stood up and decided to choose the path that led to less loss of lives...a ripple effect??

YOSANO'S BUTTERFLIES ANIMATED I AM OBSESSED

ALL the character moments like Kenji encouraging the ADA, Tanizaki being frustrated and protective, Kunikida never letting any of them die, Yosano saving them all with her ability, Kyouka going back for Atsushi, poor Atsushi being so out of the loop -

I wonder where the hideout Yosano was going to take them to was going to be....

anyway the concept of passing is a scam. we will never be liberated until the idea that a trans person's inherent value and worth and validity is directly proportional to their resemblance to a cis person. and i say this not just to those who struggle to or do not fit into that box, but to those who very much do and are counting themselves lucky.

the same way that its unhealthy and unreasonable to expect a same gender couple to conform to notions of what a heterosexual family should be, its unhealthy and unreasonable to have to expect a transgender experience of identity and a transgender body to conform to a cisgender ideal. not only does it further the marginalisation of trans people and drive a wedge in our community, but it's an unhealthy way to see the world and relate to yourself. its not fair to expect a human being to go their whole life in states of checking the value of their body and their life against a societally imposed, often unattainable model that may not even reflect their own desires or goals.

it's tough, i know how tough it is to go against everything you've been taught, and the right to seek medical intervention to reshape ourselves in a way that deepens and solidifies our connection to our bodies is and will always be important. but for your own mental health, whatever shape you take must reflect yourself first. not a cis persons. transition is about making a home out of the body you're living in, in whatever way works for you.

you deserve the mental freedom that comes with removing "passing" from your emotional radar entirely. trans bodies are good bodies.

on the bachelor and resurrection

Thinking about how the concept of resurrection is touched upon in Daniil’s routes, and how the Marble Nest makes something of a mockery of it, casting him into the role of both resurrectionist and the resurrected. The man with an affinity for the living trapped in a cycle of communing with the dead..

+ the reminders that neither remaining nor returning shall constitute anything akin to a victory for him—just a trick mirror and, if you'll forgive the pun, a dead end

(p.s. the original marble nest line is a bit clearer in this connection, where the word for Sunday can also mean resurrection)

"stop looking at me with those eyes"

"what eyes?"

friendly neighborhood asian hot take: sometimes because you're writing chinese muses in english in rpc it's okay to 'romanize' and be anachronistic about certain things. obviously, do your research - but 'modern language' is used even by chinese writers doing stories set in ancient times. we're never going to be fully accurate anyway because we're writing in 白话文 and not 文言文 (actual classical ancient chinese vernacular) so.

TBH i kind of am into phonetics in a freak pervert way

btw to filipino moots im gna be an arenean B) or iskolar ng bayan who knows!

im obsessed with him (click for better quality)

i hate them with a passion

finally settling once and for all... with the evidence laid out plainly.. which of these brother boys is more stinkys ,,,