Tumgik
#thank you for the ask and sorry about my rambling
waves-against-a-cliff · 12 hours
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Where Soul Meets Body - Ghost x Reader
Ao3 Link
Content Warnings - afab!reader, no pronouns used, reader has a call sign, canon typical violence, ghost's past :(, angst, smut, fingering, oral, thigh riding, PiV, unprotected sex, happy ending. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary - Simon Riley has been your best friend since the two of you were five. You've been in love with him since you were 15. It's too bad life has other plans
WC: 18k
Big thanks to @shotmrmiller for helping me with the last chapter and big thanks to @itsagrimm for listening to my rambling about this since January. I'm so happy to see it written and finished.
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Rainy days in the United Kingdom we're far from abnormal. Seeing the bright sun with no clouds obstruction was abnormal. Seeing someone without an umbrella, even a jacket, in the rain was more than abnormal to you. Who in the world would set out to school without a jacket or umbrella? You approach the strawberry blond boy and tentatively hold your umbrella over his head. "What are you doing without an umbrella?" You ask, head tilting ever so slightly at the boy looking up at you. Oh, he's from your class, what was his name again?
"I don't have one."
"Did your mum not buy you one?" There was a small silence but you smile, "Well it doesn't matter now, I'm here and we can share." You give him your name and get the smallest smile from him.
"I'm Simon Riley." Ah, that's right, Simon Riley.
"Well then Simon, let's get to school." The umbrella was hardly large enough for you to fit under but you held it over his head as the rain came down. It rained all day but that was okay because you and Simon sat together all day. "I'll walk home with you so you don't get wet." You say while playing another round of Sorry!.
"You don't need to." Simon mutters as he moves his piece, his brown eyes downcast. You frown, brows pinching together as you try to piece together the logic behind that statement.
"I don't need to but I want to." You respond with a toothy grin. "It's what friends do." You say with confidence as you draw a card.
"We're friends?" Simon asks, his eyes suddenly meeting yours.
"Of course. We're sharing an umbrella." You laugh and move your piece according to the card. "And when you get your own umbrella, we can be umbrella friends." He repeats the term umbrella friends as if testing the waters and then smiles. A smile suits him much better than a frown you decide. During lunch, you offer part of your sandwich when you realize how sad his packed lunch is. "Here, I'm full." A lie but he hardly had half of what your mum packed. He looked at the triangularly cut sandwich with apprehension. "Please eat it." He continues to stare at it before picking it up and taking a bite then looking at you. When he sees your smile, he keeps eating it. "You have very brown eyes." You suddenly comment, unable to keep it to yourself. "I like them."
Simon easily fit into the routine of your life, each day after school he would walk home with you on Fridays. Together the two of you would chatter about anything and everything, conversation flowing easily. Somedays were worse than others, like right now while you treated Simon's busted lip with a bag of cold peas pressing against his cheek. "I'll beat him up." You promise. He seems different these days, he had always been a bit timid before but any loud noise scared him. You don't ask what happened, you could see it in his eyes that he didn't want to talk about it. Those same eyes were always looking down all the time now too, you wish he wouldn't. You like to see his eyes.
"You can't beat up Tommy." He insists.
"He beat you up, I'm just returning the favor." You huff as you dab the blood away from his lip and hand him a bag of cold broccoli. The attic of your home had become a safe haven to him and the walls and ceiling were decorated in drawings that the two of you had created over the last two years. A plate of triangle sandwiches sat half eaten on the box-made-table. "I'll just punch him. Serve him right." You huff and cross your arms after throwing the wet rag in the corner. Books and half put away board games were scattered all around the little attic.
"Please don't." Simon begs, his brown eyes downcast again.
"Will it make you happy if I don't?" You ask, twisting your shirt and pulling at the loose thread. Simon nods and you sigh, pushing your hair from your face. "Fine then but you're staying the night." You declare.
"Don't you need to ask your mum and dad permission?" He asks.
"They'll say yes. They always do." It was true, there hadn't been a time your mum hadn't let Simon sleep over if you had asked. Simon tapped your arm and handed you a book from the pile.
"Out of your head, let's read." He says while giving a frail smile. When did his smiles get smaller? You take the book from his hand, you hope it'll make him happy. A knock on the attic door as your mum peaks her head up.
"Are you staying for dinner Simon?" You mum asks and you jump on the opportunity.
"Can Simon stay the night mum? Please." You draw out your please and put on your best puppy eyes. Your mum looks between you and Simon who still held the bag of broccoli against his mouth.
"Of course he can stay. Just be quiet after eight pm." Your mum disappears back down the ladder towards the kitchen while you turn to Simon with a victorious smile on your face.
"Told you so."
You knock rapidly on his home's front door, "Come on Riley! I'm not gonna stand out here all day waiting for you." You would, of course you would. Rain or shine, warm or hot. The door swung open and you scrunched up your nose when Tommy was standing in front of you. "You smell like a sewer rat." You remark, "Where's Simon?"
"Don't you ever shut up?" Tommy snapped, "Simon isn't your boyfriend."
"He doesn't need to be my boyfriend in order for me to ask where he is." You immediately respond. He snorts and rolls his eyes. Tommy, Simon's younger brother, had been teasing the two of you for years since the first time he saw you walk Simon home. "Simon!" You say, a smile immediately appearing on your face as he finally appears behind his brother. "Come on!" You push Tommy out of the way and grab Simon's hand. "I got my drivers license." You boast, "Dad's letting me drive his truck around whenever he doesn't need it."
It was a rare day in spring when it wasn't raining and you weren't gonna let it go to waste. The windows of the truck were rolled down and the wind blew through your hair. The city of Manchester slowly disappears, the loudness exchanged for the quiet of the countryside.
"Don't look so grumpy Simon." You say when you notice he had his head in his hand and a scowl on his face. "You're acting like I'm driving you to your death."
"With how you drive, I'm sure you are." He retorts, a small smile growing on his face as you bark out a laugh.
"Well we're almost there so your death won't be quiet so soon." You remark. You slow the truck down before pulling off into a dirt road and coming to a complete stop. You turn the truck off and tuck the keys into your pocket and grab the basket you brought from the back of the truck. You look at the fence blocking the way into the flower field before you toss the basket over the fence before you launching yourself over the fence. "Come on Simon, just jump it!"
"Isn't this illegal?"
"Only if you get caught." You laugh and wink before helping Simon over the fence. The field of flowers stretch far and bumblebees buzz around from flower to flower. You open the basket and lay out the thin blanket onto the ground. Lowering yourself onto the blanket and you motion for Simon to join you.
"What's all this then?" He asked with a brow raised as you began to pull out a few cans of coke, a couple of sandwiches and apples.
"Happy 15th birthday." You say with a grin, "I got your present back at my house but I figured you'd like it out here." Simon stares at you, brown eyes wide as he looks between you and all the food you somehow managed to pack into the basket. You shift a little his heavy gaze as anxiety crept up as your cheeks turned red. "Do you not like it?" You ask.
Simon looked at you before a lopsided grin grew on his face, "It's great. Thank you."
"What are you planning to do after school is over?" You ask after taking a sip from your coke. "I mean, we only have next year left. Are you going to attend University?"
"I'm gonna take a butcher's apprenticeship."
"What?"
"My grades aren't doing great and I figured why not." Simon shrugged, "Not like it's a bad idea." You punched his shoulder lightly and glared at him.
"Why didn't you tell me you were struggling Riley? You know I would have helped." The wind blows softly, the flowers and grass rustle, birds sing in the distance. "You're a smart man Simon, if this is what you want to do," You take a steadying breath, "then I'll support you."
Simon smiles at you, "You took it better then my mum did at least." He sighs and takes a bite from his apple.
"She just wants what's best for you." You say, softening your voice. If there was one thing you learned about Simon Riley after these five years, it's that he loves his mum more than anything. You lean against him, coke can still in hand as the silence blankets the space between you and him. After a few minutes of silently eating and drinking, he nudges you.
"Look." He whispers and points to a flower by his side. You lean over and a massive smile grows on your face as you spot a very tired bumblebee resting within a flower. You look at Simon and feel something within yourself turn on or maybe become louder as you see his soft gaze at the sleeping bee. Suddenly, you wanted him to look at you with that same soft expression.
"You know Daisy?" Simon asks one day while you were driving to the flower field. It had become a place to get away from school and home, away from all the stresses of life for at least a few hours. Daisy was a classmate in the same year, you had never been close with her but you had grown up with her the same as you had with Simon.
"Of course, Daisy Lockmon right?"
"Yeah." There's something in the way he says it that makes your heart clench. It's the softness of it, the fondness and the soft sigh, even the sort of dreamy look in his eyes you spot in the mirror as he gazes out into the countryside.
"Yeah?"
"I'm dating her. She asked me out a few days ago." Few days ago. Why did that sting so fucking much? You smile at him as you grip on the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white and your fingers go numb. It doesn't compare to the squeezing grip of whatever is holding your heart. No, you know who holds your heart and he doesn't even know it. It's my fault, I never told him. You try to reason with yourself but it doesn't stop the hurt.
"Congratulations then. Daisy is a sweet girl."
A few months later, you feel like you're going to throw up. You fight back any words threatening to come out of your mouth besides something good and kind because he doesn't deserve your anger or sadness. Simon doesn't know, you keep reminding yourself, you're just his best friend that he's confiding in. Just the person he's grown up with since ten years old, just the person who treated his busted lips, cuts and bruises. Just his best friend. Not the girl, not Daisy Lockmon who he thinks he loves. He probably does love her, you've never seen him look at someone the way he does Daisy.
You lay in the field, something that allows your stress to melt away, does nothing for you. Not as Simon lays next to you, not as you think about the times before all of this you could have said something. Simon says nothing, you say nothing and the two of you just watch the clouds float by. Simon sits up as he speaks, "I'm ready to leave, how about you?" Your heart clenches again, time in the field has been getting shorter and trips less frequent. You know it's not just because of his relationship and it's just how life is sometimes. He has his butcher's apprenticeship and you're studying for university classes but logic doesn't dictate emotion.
"In a moment, I'll catch up with you at the truck." You say, pasting on a smile. Simon shrugs and grunts as he gets up. You wait until you're sure he's already hopped the fence and heading towards the truck before you move over to his spot. Where the grass and flowers are flattened down into his shape, slowly you curl into the spot. For a moment, you imagined that you were the one he says he loves. For just a bittersweet moment, you pretend that you're his and he's yours.
"I'm joining the military." Your ceramic mug shatters on the floor. Just like that, everything comes crashing down. The world was still reeling from the twin towers attack in the United States, the sense of safety shattered in a terrorist attack.
"What?" That was the only word that could come from your mouth. You look at Simon with wide eyes, the cozy atmosphere of your flat turned cold. "You're joking. Right Simon?"
"I'm not."
"What about your apprenticeship Simon? You've been working as a butcher since you were 16. You're nearly done." The words come flying out of your mouth, "Simon-"
"I'm not asking you to understand my decision. I'm just telling you that I'm doing it and you can't stop me." You laugh bitterly and the sound is so foreign to both your ears and Simons.
"As if I could stop you Simon." You mutter, moving to grab a broom and dustpan to clean up the shattered mug on the floor. "But why? You've never once shown interest in joining the military." The answer is clear, its reason why many people were joining the military and you already know his answer before he opens his mouth.
"The attack in the US." Of course, he doesn't elaborate. "I'm being sent to bootcamp in two weeks."
"Two weeks? That's hardly any time at all." You sigh and sink down into your couch, putting your face in your hands as you try to process everything. "What about Daisy?"
"Broke up with her." He says so plainly and with a shrug of his shoulders. You have to bite your tongue to keep from saying something back handed. You're not petty, you're not petty, you're not petty, is the thought running through your head but you can't deny how good it feels to know he isn't dating her anymore. Not like you have much of a chance now since he's going off to bootcamp. "She said she didn't want to date a guy in the military. It's a deal breaker apparently." It's not for me you think quickly.
The day comes too quickly, for once you wished life would slow down and let you soak up Simon's presence in your life. It's not like he's dying, he's just going off to bootcamp and then he'll be back is what you think to keep yourself from falling apart. Nearly nine years of friendship, spending hardly any time or going a long distance away from one another, now Simon will be gone for 14 weeks. Then he'll be stationed somewhere for two to six years. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him hard and burying your face into his jacket. "You be safe Simon Riley or I'll raise you from the dead."
He chuckles and pats your head, "Its bootcamp not an active war zone." You just shake your head and he wraps his arms around you. "But I'll be safe. I'll write to you every chance I get, I promise."
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"Good."
"Simon?"
The last three years had passed quickly with the letters from Simon being the only rest stop between university studies and work. Grabbing your coat from the back, you sigh as you finally shut off the lights to the cafe you work at part time. With a small click, your work day was finally, finally over. You twist the lock on the cafe front door, struggling momentarily from your thick gloves. You turn to start walking towards your rather cheap flat and scream when you see a massive figure barely a foot away. The familiar voice hissing your name made the panic subside as quickly as it appeared.
"Glad to know you still have those pipes of yours." You look at Simon, he is barely illuminated by the street lights but you can still tell he's different now. He's no longer the slightly slender boy you knew three years ago. He wasn't slouching and made direct eye contact with you. You take him all in before you rush to him and wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his coat and drinking in his scent.
"Simon Riley," You whisper into his coat before pulling back to look up at him, "you've really grown. Come on, I'll let you crash at my place." He opens his mouth to argue but you're already pulling him along. You lead him to your flat, which isn't far away from your place of work thankfully. You kick off your shoes at the door and tell Simon to do the same. Placing a kettle on the stove to boil some water you then sit down and look at Simon. "So, what's brought you back here?" You ask.
Simon looks at you, drinking in your appearance. You look tired, worn down and ready to collapse. "I'm gonna fix my family." He finally answers after you cock your head to the side.
"You're... gonna fix your family?" You ask, leaning back as the words wash over you. Your heart hurt slightly for a reason you didn't want to understand, for a reason you didn't want to voice out loud or in your own head.
"Yes. And I'm not leaving until it is."
You purse your lips and get up to pour the boiling water into two cups. You put an earl gray tea bag with a splash of milk into the mug for Simon and a few cubes of sugar for your own cup of tea. You hand him the tea and sit back down as you continue to run through the implications of his choice. "Alright." You finally say. "You can crash at my place while you fix your family."
"You don't believe me." Simon states and you snap your head to look at him completely. "I know it sounds crazy but I'm stronger now. I can finally do what I've always wanted." He says between sips of his tea. "And I won't leave until it is fixed."
You sigh and set your cup down, "Fine." You get up and grab a piece of paper and a pen. You scribble down the addresses of Tommy's friends that he keeps couch surfing between before handing it to Simon. "This is what I know about Tommy. You'll probably get a confirmed address from your mom."
"And my dad?"
"Still an arsehole who comes and goes as he pleases." You grumble.
You walk out of your bedroom as quietly as possible. You peak over your couch and feel a weight lift off your chest. He was still here, right here in your flat. Your best friend, your rock and crush. Simon was finally back, not for the reason you might have fantasized about more than often you were willing to admit, but he was back. Love is such a funny thing, you think to yourself as you lay in bed. It had been three years since you had last seen him, hugging and barely holding back tears as he hopped on a bus to bootcamp. You hadn't cried that hard ever as you had cried on that day when he left. You turn onto your side and wipe away a few tears that leak from your eyes, at least he was here now.
You stand outside his family's home. You look down the street and recall the exact path that you could take to see your family. You had turned down Simon's offer to come inside, you didn't want to intrude on his reunion with his mother. You tap your foot as you lean against your truck, the same one you had driven to the fields outside of Manchester all those years ago. Simon steps outside of the house and hugs his mother one last time, his mouth moves but you don't hear what he has to say. His mother looks around him and looks at you. She's been crying you realize. You exchange a smile and a wave before she goes back inside of the house.
"Got the address?" You ask Simon as you both get into your truck.
"Got it." He confirms and gives you the address. You can't stop yourself from grimacing, of course it had to be that arsehole’s address. You hadn't left Simon in the dark of what was going on with his family while he was deployed and away. You didn't bother to spare details, okay, well maybe a few. Mostly about your own interactions with Tommy and his friends. But Simon didn't need to hear that, he had already sworn to come back and fix his family at least a dozen times since the third month. He didn't need to stress himself over you.
The car ride was quiet, the radio was off and the only sound was the wind blowing in through the open windows. You can feel the rage rolling off him but also the concern for his brother. The truck comes to stop outside of a dingy and unwelcoming flat building, you look at Simon and take him in. His brown eyes fill with determination and rage the longer he looks at the building. Finally, he opens the door, "I'm gonna get Tommy." He says before turning to go into the building after shutting the door. You let out a shaky sigh and let go of the steering wheel, looking at your shaking hands you try not to think too hard about what Tommy and his friends had done. What kind of people they were.
Tommy, your best friend's young brother had let his so-called friends push you around at your job until they were banned by your manager. Then they slashed your tires. Tommy hadn't changed, just become a carbon copy of dirt-bag father. Simon was made from something different, he was his mother's son, the undying love of his family and the ability to go with the flow of life. To never give up. You tense up as the people who lived in the flat walk past you, your breathing becoming more shallow as you watch them enter the flat. Oh god. Oh god. You panic and go to unbuckle yourself but struggle as your trembling hands only become worse.
You could hear the fighting coming from inside the house as you finally unbuckle yourself. There were five of them and only one of him. Oh god. Oh god. You push the truck door open and nearly tumble out, rushing to Simon's aid. You didn't expect to see him handling himself well against five other people while Tommy crouches low to avoid the fight altogether. One of the men goes to try and put Simon in a headlock, you do the only thing you can think of. You grab the man's jacket and pull him into your punch.
Simon places Tommy in the back seat, telling him he's going to bring him to the clinic and get him clean. You rub your throbbing knuckles, the pain from that one punch still echoing in your body. Simon gently takes your hand and inspects your knuckles, clicking his tongue. "You were never much of a fighter." He comments and looks up into your eyes. "But that was a good punch."
You're standing outside the clinic, the cold early spring wind making you pull your jacket closer to your body. Today was the day Tommy was going to be released, you weren't going to turn down Simon's request for you to be there. You had been spending more and more time with Simon and his mother. She is such a sweet lady, and loves her sons more than anything in the entire world. Simon looks at you and smiles, "I told you I would fix my family."
You roll your eyes, "I'll believe Tommy is clean when I see it." You grumble.
"I know he wasn't a good man back then,"
"He was a fucking mess Simon." You say, "He and his druggie friends cornered me once, demanded whatever money I had on me." You finally spill your guts, "I don't like him. You've been defending Tommy and his stupidity every day since I've known you." You look him right in the eyes, "He doesn't deserve your love or your mothers. As far as I'm concerned, he's been on my shit list since the first time I had to clean your bloody lip."
Simon looks at you for a long moment, your words hanging in the air until he pulls you into a hug. "I'm sorry." He mutters and hides his face in the crook of your neck. You freeze and he hugs you tighter, "I'm so sorry. You should have told me about that. I would have never-"
"Don't be sorry." You whisper quickly, "Never be sorry. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry. Simon you're too kind, too forgiving."
"That's not true."
"I think it is."
Someone coughs and Simon lets go of you, his face breaking into a smile as Tommy stands in front of the two of you. He looks different, better. Healthy and alive. "Can we go home now?" He asks. You watch as Simon walks up to Tommy and wraps him in his arms.
"Of course."
You watch from the driver's seat as their mum opens the door and jump into Tommy's arms as Tommy hugs her tight. You can't help the smile that grows on your face when Simon joins the hug. Their mum looks at you and motions you to join them. You shake your head but Simon walks over and pretty much drags you from the car and into the group hug.
Later that night, their mum pulls you to the side. "Thank you." She says and takes your hand into hers, "for being there for my Simon."
"It really was nothing." You assure her and she shakes her head.
"You love him very much. Don't try to deny it, you've stuck by his side all these years and I've seen the way you look at him." She winks, "I just hope the two of you get together before I'm dead."
You can't help the quiet laugh that comes from your throat, "Me too." You whisper and look over at Simon who sits next to Tommy as they watch a football match after eating dinner.
You can hardly believe that you're sitting here at Tommy's wedding next to their mum as you comfort her. Simon stands as Tommy's best man as they trade vows. Beth looks beautiful as she always has. Long black hair and charming blue eyes, she was beyond kind as well. Perfect for Tommy who hadn't lost some of his snark but Beth softened him. You look at Simon and smile when you notice he's holding back tears as they exchange vows.
The wedding's reception wasn't filled to the brim with people but it was lively, friends and distant family members mingled as you sit at a table with a glass of champagne. Simon lets out a sigh as he sits next to you at the edge of the party. "Are you having fun?" You tease and Simon rolls his eyes. Joseph, Simon's nephew who you are sure will never know a day of fear or hurt like his uncle and father, is exchanged between party members and snuck small bites of cake.
"I'd let to get away from all of this for a moment." He admits as he runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair. You remember when he was the sad strawberry blond boy that rainy school day. The way he avoided eye contact and others. You smile and take his hand.
"Then lets go."
You can faintly hear the music from the reception but other wise, this bench away from the party was the perfect place. The night sky is some what visible, with only the brightest stars being visible from all the light pollution of the city. A small breeze blows through your hair and you close your eyes to just soak in the moment. You open your eyes and Simon looks at you, softness in his eyes.
"What?"
"You're stunning." He says and you furrow your brows, ignoring the heat in your cheeks and neck. He leans in closer and cups your cheek, "Can I kiss you?" The words don't come to you but you nod frantically, feeling worried that he might change his mind for some reason. His eyes look between your eyes and lips before he leans in. The kiss is slow and he holds you like you might break or in case you want to leave. His lips are slightly chapped but soft and you vaguely wonder if he put on flavored chapstick earlier. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer and he takes the hint. The kiss turns from soft to practically ravenous as he holds you close, your mouth parts automatically and he slips his tongue in.
When you finally pull back to breath deeper, he looks at you with amazement. "I love you Simon Riley." You whisper and rest your forehead against his, "I have since we were 15. Don't leave me again Simon. Not if you can help it."
"You're gonna hate me then." He whispers as he holds you close. "I'm returning to duty in a month."
"I could never hate you Simon. Not in a million years. Just… write to me and when you go on leave again,” You take a steadying breath, “We can talk about what we are." He nods and you press your lips to his again.
You stand in the rain. You fucking hate the rain. It soaks through your black clothes and makes it stick to your skin. It mats down your hair and hides the tears that run down your face. There is no one here, no one but you and the priest at this funeral. How could this happen, you wonder. Everything was perfect. You look at the name on the gravestone. Tommy, Beth and Joseph, there's another gravestone a few feet away that has his mothers and fathers name on it. Simon is the only one who is buried alone. A bitter and petty choice from their distant family. Everyone thinks Simon did it. There was no proof to prove otherwise and it fit the story. A soldier returns home and suffers a PTSD breakdown and kills his entire family.
It didn't make sense. Simon was getting better, he promised he was getting better and attending therapy appointments. He loved Joseph, he loved his family and he loved you. He would have never done this. Maybe he would have murdered his father but the anger there was long and bitter, if he wanted to kill his father, he would have done it years ago.
Earlier last month, you had passed by a stand with different brochures. Some of them were for churches, others for activities to do with the family. Normally, you would have passed by it, eager to leave the store as quickly as possible. But you stopped this time and glanced at a particular brochure, you picked it from its spot and glanced over it. “You belong here.” A soldier is yelling while another is taking cover, inside are different recruiting offices and general information. You pocket it.
It was an impulsive decision. But the papers were filed and your two week notice already given. You didn't want to think about the consequences of what you were about to do, you just felt lost. University didn't matter, your cafe job didn't matter and every street in this fucking city reminded you of him. You decided if you were going to join the military. You had been accepted, the letter sat in your bag now that all of your items in your flat had been packed up and stored in your old childhood bedroom. This was just the last thing to do before the bus picks you up tomorrow morning.
You throw the roses in your hand into the caskets until you reach Simons. Your hand trembles as it holds the thorny rose, shakily you bring it to your lips and kiss the petals before tossing it into his grave. "I love you Simon Riley."
You watch as the city of Manchester flows past you like a river. It's raining again and the droplets obscure your vision of the outside world. People around you talk and you realize just how out of place you are. These are 16, 17 and 18 year olds with bright eyes and dreams. You vaguely wonder if Simon had sat in silence as he liked to do or if he had been dragged into a conversation. You glance at your duffle bag by your feet before leaning your head back and shutting your eyes. The bus ride would be a long one, you figure that some rest would make it faster.
Your name is called and you step forward, you hold onto the bag of items shoved into your arms. You listen to the drill sergeant yell that these are your items. You are responsible for maintaining and keeping track of all things in this bag. You realize, in a way that makes it difficult not to smile, that Simon was right. They are hard arses here.
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You wonder why Simon never told you about this but he never seemed to tell you anything. You curse the dead man and curse yourself for being impulsive. Nearly done with university and you dropped out for him, for a dead man who was buried alone in his own grave. You use your anger to make it to the end, your uniform is covered in mud and the sensation makes your skin crawl but you run forward towards the rope wall, swinging your rifle over your back. “Come on Private!” The drill sergeant screams at you, “I’ve seen injured men move faster than you do!” You grit your teeth as he mocks you.
The scratches that litter your body sting as you crawl through the mud and muck underneath the barbed wire with a rifle held close to your chest. You breathe out puffs of condensation in the air, you’re shivering and you keep your jaw clenched so your teeth don’t chatter. You keep crawling, inching like a caterpillar towards the end of this section and fight the urge to just lay there on the ground. The cold rain soaks through your clothes and you grunt when part of the barbed wire above you catches onto your leg again. “Fuck.” You hiss but you’re nearly there.
It's his job, you remind yourself, to try and break you. If Simon leaving didn’t break you, if him and his family dying didn’t break you then this fucking drill sergeant was not going to break you. You climb up the rope and grapple onto the next bit of rope, locking your legs with your ankles and you inch down the rope even as your hands burn.
That night as you sit in the corner of the mess hall, you itch at the bandages wrapped around your hand. Whatever salve the lady in the med bay had slathered onto your hand hadn’t done much to cool the burning. You know it's counterintuitive to scratch at it but who was going to stop you? You were an adult now and could suffer the consequences of your stupid actions. Like not demanding Simon give you answers on why he was pulling away after finally confessing his feelings. You clench your fist and smother those feelings with the pain you feel.
No matter how many times you try to remind yourself there's no point in focusing on the past you can’t stop. How can you stop? Everything you’ve done has been for him and now he’s gone and you’re still doing things for him. You look around the mess hall at the different groups of fellow trainee’s and know you’ll never have that kind of connection with anyone else. Simon was it. Your best friend since childhood, your first crush and first heartbreak. You wander outside and sit on a stack of crates near the mess when the talking and clanking of silverware grows too much.
The night is cool, the sky is clear from the rain that had poured so hard earlier but you can’t see the stars anyway. You go to itch at your hand again when a drill sergeant comes around the corner. You stiffen up and immediately get up to salute but he dismisses you before you even get your hand to your forehead. “Private, why aren’t you in the mess eating?”
“Lost my appetite, sir.” You reply, “Figured some fresh air would do me some good.” You go to scratch at your hand again and his eyes snap to the motion.
“Private, did the nurse not provide you with burn cream?” He asked and it was weird having the man who yelled at you all day suddenly become concerned for your well-being.
“She did, sir, it just itches.” You explain and the drill sergeant makes a face, for a second you worry that he will demand that you return to the med bay again. Instead, he nods.
“Dismissed Private. Get some rest.” You nod and scurry away to your barracks.
The helicopter’s wings slow but any flyaways in your hair whip and stick to your face anyways. After serving in the SAS for five years, you had been picked by Chief station Laswell and Captain John Price to be a part of the 141 task force. You couldn’t believe you had finally done it, all these years of serving and you start to finally believe that you might’ve done Simon some justice. All the broken bones, bruises and scars are worth it if it means he’s looking down on you fondly. You look between the four men in front of you. You recognize Captain Price immediately with his boonie hat and well groomed mutton chops. He extends his hand which you take and shake with a firm grip. “Boys, this is Gator. They’ll be joinin’ our task force startin’ today.”
The man standing next to Price smiles at you, beautiful white teeth with a stunning smile and soft brown eyes. He has a scar on his cheek and you wonder how he got it as you shake his hand, “This is Sergeant Garrick.” Price says and you beam back at him.
“A pleasure to meet you Sergeant.”
“No need for that, just call me Gaz.” He assures you and lets go of your hand. You turn to meet the third man and before you can even open your mouth or extend your hand to shake, he’s grabbing yours with a grip tight enough to shatter a few bones. He has a stupid mohawk haircut that he somehow makes work, crystal blue eyes and you can tell that he’s a little mischievous.
“I’m Sergeant MacTavish but e’eryone calls me Soap.” He laughs, warm like an early summer day, when he sees your eyebrows raise. “I’ll tell ye why later.” He promises with a wink.
“Oi! Johnny, stop hoggin’ the new meat.” You turn to the voice and have to stop yourself from taking a step back just so you could look at the man fully. He’s fucking huge. Broad shoulders, wearing all black and a skull mask to hide his face. You can barely make out his brown eyes from under all that eye black. His accent is rough, with a voice that gives away how much he smokes. He looks down at you, like you suspect he has to most people, and you want to slink away into whatever hole he thinks you crawled out of. Despite this, you stick your hand out for him to shake.
“And this is your Lieutenant, Ghost.” You have to stop yourself from snorting. Ghost, how fitting for a man literally wearing a skull mask. He grips your hand and gives it a firm shake as his eyes burn holes into your soul. You look at his hand when you feel something other than familiar flesh, it's a glove. Even funnier, its skeleton gloves. It sends you nearly into a giggle fit, yes this man is intimidating to a point where you would have been shaking in your boots a few years ago. But he’s unironically wearing skeleton gloves. How is that not funny? He gives you a firm shake but just as quickly removes his gloved hand from yours. “Alright Gator, Ghost will give you a quick tour around here and then I want you to report for training at 0500 hours.”
The tour is silent besides the simple sentences Ghost speaks and you’re that sure he wouldn’t if Price hadn’t put him on the spot for giving you the tour. “This ‘ere is the training hall, this is where yer expected to be tomorrow.” He gruffly says, stiff as a board. You nod and nearly jump out of your skin when someone wraps their arm around your shoulders.
“There ye are! I was tryin’ tae find ye.”
“Sergeant.” Ghost says gruffly and Soap rolls his eyes before removing his arm. “They are busy.”
“Away an bile yer heid.” Soap says with a laugh, “I ken that yer aboot as excited fer this tour as they are.” You didn’t need to see Ghost roll his eyes to know he did, it was just in the way the air shifts around the three of you. “Lemme take over the rest of the tour aye?” Ghost sighs but concedes which confirms that he would really rather be anywhere else than giving the FNG a tour. “Good lad.” Soap chuckles and pats Ghost’s shoulder.
Ghost leaves quickly for being a man so massive and Soap turns to you, “Dinnae mind him, he’s a big grump.” You snort and laugh while nodding in agreement. “Alright, let's continue this tour.” Soap claps a hand on your back and for the rest of the day, with breaks for food of course, he showed you around. He was certainly better at it then Ghost who acted like he had been asked to travel across the sahara desert while carrying you.
“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap groans while he stumbles back from you. Sweat sticks to your forehead and your usual hairdo is ruined but so is the way of sparring and training. “I see why they call ye Gator.” He grumbles as he holds his head. “Ye fuckin’ death rolled me.” Soap accuses and it was true. You have the strength to take down men bigger than you in not only height but sheer mass. It was a skill you had honed for the past several years ever since you figured it out in bootcamp.
You wrap your arms around him as he tries to pin you to the mat and roll. You twist with all your might and switch the position then without a second thought you slam your head against his. The force knocks your brain around and the headache you’ll get later is going to be absolutely terrible but the man under you groans and holds his forehead. “I yield! Holy shite.” He curses as you immediately back away from him. You glance around at the group of people who had made it this far into the training and then meet the eyes of your drill sergeant who, if you weren’t mistaken and didn’t have a concussion, looked almost proud.
That night as you hold an ice pack against your forehead and sit outside the mess hall away, he approaches again. “Never seen a private do that.” He says after immediately acknowledging your salute and telling you to be at ease. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone do that before.” You sheepishly shrug.
“I didn’t want to lose.”
“And so you didn’t.” A silence hangs in the air as the crickets chirp and you wonder if that's an owl’s hoot you hear. “I think you're going to have a nickname before you even leave camp.” He says, “You have the other sergeants wantin’ to call you Gator.”
“Gator?” You ask even if you understand the implications. You guess you did a kind of death roll that poor buy but Gator? Really?
“Better than some poor sod who got named Dirt because he ended up with a mouth full of dirt after tripping on the 20 mile march.” You chuckle at that.
“I guess Gator is much better than Dirt.”
“That’s the spirit. You better get some rest for tomorrow, Private.” He says before walking away and just like that time, leaving you to sit in the cool night air before you heed his warning.
You grit your teeth as Ghost ignores you again. You’re just trying to get him to sign from fucking paperwork Captain Price asked of you. “Lieutenant I need-”
“Not now sergeant.” Ghost says as he walks away from you and you want to scream. Its been like this the entire time you’ve been on this team. At first you thought it was his way of hazing you, act like a dickhead and see if the FNG breaks. Well you haven’t broken, you’ve only doubled down because every time he acts like this you keep being reminded of Simon and how he wouldn’t have given up.
At least Gaz and Soap were more open to you being on their task force now that months had passed. Although you doubt if Soap had ever disliked the idea of you being on the force. You barely duck Gaz’s punch but aren’t fast enough to catch his leg before it slams full force into your side. You grab it before he can bring it back and yank on it so he falls onto the floor, he rolls over before you can pin him down. You stare at each other for a moment before you lunge at him like a rabid dog without a leash.
He steps to the side and then grabs the back of your shirt collar to slam you down into the mat. You squirm and fight to keep him from pinning your arms back but it's no use. And in this position, death rolling him was nearly impossible. And you’ve definitely been trying. “Distracted Gator?” Gaz asks as he pants and you snarl back at him before you let out a meek ‘I yield’. He releases you immediately and you rub your wrists. “Broken?”
“Negative.” You say as you walk over to grab your bottle of water.
Watching you spar from the corner was Ghost. He observes the way you fight and the way you wiggle out of every attempt to pin you until the last. If it wasn’t for your infamous ability to death roll, he’s sure you would have ended up being called Weasel. And wasn’t that an amusing thought? Still better than Soap. “Ye stalkin’ the FNG.” Soap teases and Ghost glances down at Soap with what he knows is a deadpan expression. Or at least deadpan eyes. Mask and all that.
“You stalkin’ me?” Ghost shoots back and Soap grins this feral grin that makes Ghost groan inwardly because that grin meant only one thing. Dog with a fuckin’ bone, thats what Soap is when he thinks he’s smelt something out. “Don’t start MacTavish.”
“Oh its MacTavish it is?” Soap feigns hurt as he clutches his chest. “Ye wound me sir.”
“It is when yer about to say somethin’ god awfully stupid.”
“Yer no fun L.T.” Soap laments and Ghost rolls his eyes while shaking his head at Soap’s antics. Soap looks past Ghost and to Gator who is talking with Gaz on the bench while the two of them drink water and give the other advice. “Slippery thing they are.” Soap comments and Ghost nods. “Dinnae think I’ve ever seen someone slip out of your hold befure.”
“Is tha’ the reason yer botheirn’ me Sergeant?”
“Botherin’ ye? Nae sir, jus’ wanna see how Gaz manages to take them down.” Soap says, a half truth and they both know it.
“They gave him a hard time too.”
“Do ye think tha’ they oil up befure every sparrin’ match?” Soap says with a smile and Ghost rolls his eyes despite the small smile growing beneath his mask. You look up and notice Soap and Ghost which immediately makes him want to flee the scene. Every time you lock eyes with him, it sends him back to his time in Mexico. You’re a constant reminder and he wants you gone. Simon is dead and he’s not sure why you even joined the fucking military in the first place. Last he knew you were close to finishing off your degree, did you drop out to join this place?
Ghost grits his teeth as he shoves the memories of both Roba and you back into the box he had stuffed the two of you into years ago. He can’t open the box for one without the other escaping. You offer him a small smile and he turns on his heel. He walks as quickly as he can back to his private quarters, perks of being an officer and also being dead he guessed. He slams his door behind him and marches right into the bathroom. He yanks off the mask and stares at himself. He stares at the scars across his face, his broken one-too-many-times nose and the scar that cuts his lip. He takes stalk of his flaws within his face, the one you had seen and hadn’t recoiled from.
He wonders if you even suspect that its him and his chest hurts at the thought that you’ve forgotten him. But he knows he hasn’t earned his right back into your life, he’s dead. He can never be the man you need or want, he’s different now. Much more scarred than when he returned from Mexico, he’s brash and rude. He doesn’t like people and he doesn’t like that he still wants to be near you. It’s irrational, it’s stupid and there’s nothing he can do about it but try and get to you to quit.
“Captain Price told me to give this to you.” A Corporal says, clearly shaking in his boots, as he hands Ghost a file. “A-and he told me that he wants you in the briefing room.”
“Dismissed Corporal.” Ghost says and the man scurries off. Ghost looks at the file and opens it, the first thing he sees is that it’s a duo op. The second thing he sees is that you’re the one coming along. “Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters as he looks at your little picture papercliped to the top of the page next to his faceless one.
“He always does that.” You groan to Gaz as you watch Ghost turn on his heel and leave once you lock eyes with him. “Did I do something wrong?” You ask, “It's been months.”
Gaz shrugs, “Ghost is an enigma, when you start to think you know him you find something else about him. That man has secrets upon secrets.” You frown at that statement. Obviously he was hiding his face to protect his identity and of course that made you naturally curious but you’ve never pressed about it. He’s quiet and efficient if any of the stories told you by Gaz and Soap were anything to go by. And now he’s a secret keeper.
Who are you Ghost?
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”The group that had been inhabiting the old soviet base are still lingering around and might return when they realize that they’ve left behind a very important piece of information.” Captain Price says and points to the projected map on the wall. “You’ll need to be fast and efficient. Is that clear?” His blue eyes scan over the two of you and both of you echo a ‘yes sir’ at the same time. “Good, get your gear and be ready, you’re wheels up in two hours.”
You sit at the table in the briefing room, bouncing your leg up and down under the table as Captain Price goes over what the mission objective is and what intel you and Ghost will be going in with. The mission is in Siberia, the objective is to get an old usb drive from a recently re-abandoned USSR base. You glance over at Ghost who hasn’t stopped looking at you this entire time, only dragging his eyes away from you when Captain Price addresses him specifically. His brown eyes seem to be trying to burn holes into your very soul so you try to match it. This would be your first duo op with Ghost and you would not be pushed around during it.
“Yes sir.” You say and leave the room after being properly dismissed. You look at the file in your hand, the information covered in the briefing summarized in the file with certain things blacked out. Like the fact this is in Siberia or that it’s an old soviet base that had been taken over by a terrorist group for a short while. You worry about that fact, if this base had been well and truly abandoned, why would the group set up there? Siberia wasn’t exactly a very hospitable environment and would take a certain amount of resources to deal with. Not just any kind of terrorist group would be able to afford those expenses.
“What’s got ye frownin’ so hard?” Soap asks and you jolt, not even aware that Soap had come up to you. He glances at the file and whistles, “Yer on a mission with L.T?”
”Somethin’ wrong with that? Something I should be worried about?” You ask, glancing behind Soap to make sure that specter wasn’t there.
“Nae, nothin’ ye should worry about besides the stick up his arse.” Soap jokes and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. Soap grins, “There’s that smile.” Soap pinches your cheek and you swat at his hand.
”What are you? My aunt?”
”Nae I’m worse.” Soap laughs as he goes to pinch your cheek again. You squeal and laugh as you take off towards the armory and Soap gives chase. You eventually make him leave, shoo-ing him off so you can change into your gear. The gear is heavy but familiar, a comforting kind of weight that you always mourn once an op is over. Tightening the strap of your vest until you felt like it was secure enough and doing the same thing with the gun holster on your thigh.
”You tighten it anymore and you’ll lose blood flow.” Ghost grunts and you stop yourself from startling a little. Ghost walks up to you and loosens the straps himself a little before your brain starts working again. You slap his hands away and glare up at him.
”I am perfectly capable of knowing when to stop tightening my straps.” You hiss. You had been in the SAS long enough to know your preferences and the fact that he is trying to baby you is insulting at best and downright disrespectful at worst. Ghost stares down at you, brown eyes dead but also filled with some kind of emotion you can’t place. He says nothing else, doesn’t even grunt, before he turns to get his gear on. You huff and finish preparing your items for the op.
You go over the file one last time while on the flight to Siberia, flipping through the different pages and you can’t fight off the gut feeling that something isn’t right. You bounce your leg as you look at the map of the base, for an old soviet base, it's small. Granted, you don’t know how big USSR bases in Siberia tended to be but this is just too small. You glance at Ghost and contemplate mentioning this to him but since the armory he hasn’t spoken a word to you. Let alone even look your way which would normally be a reprieve but right now you wish he would look, just so you’d feel less awkward starting a conversation. You remind yourself that he’s a Lieutenant, he knows more than a Sergeant such as yourself. You need to trust your commanding officer.
Ghost can feel the warmth from you, like you had leaked a part of yourself into his gloves and now he can’t get rid of it. He doesn’t understand why he had approached and went to fix your straps, really they are too tight for comfort, but when you had slapped his hands away it was like a shock had gone through him. Like his entire system had been rebooted from the simple touch, now he can’t even bear to look at you. He can feel the weight of your gaze on him though and that’s how he knows that he acted out of character. He clenches his fist so tight his knuckles are cramped when he opens it again, he wishes you would just say what you want to say.
He wishes you would yell at him so he would have something to tell Price about, to maybe get you booted off the team. He’s been a prick to you, moving your stuff in the rec room, eating your food and being condescending. What kind of drill sergeant you had, he didn’t know but they must’ve turned your will into steel. Or maybe you were always like that, you hadn’t given up on him when you got a glance at his life at home. You treated his bloody noses and busted lips, you convinced your parents to let him stay over as often as possible. You even went with him to get Tommy despite the shit Tommy and his shitty friends had put you through.
Ghost clenches his jaw, no matter what, this is better for you. He just needs to get you to quit or maybe transfer to some kind of safer job in the military if you’re so hell bent on staying. He still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you dropped out of university. He steals a glance and sees you looking at the file the same way you would look at study notes before a test.
You were right. Of course you were fucking right. Why do you have to be right? The base is much, much bigger than the intel said and worse is the fact that its not completely abandoned. “Get the fuck out of there!” Ghost yells over comms and you’re so close to just tearing the wiring in half so you don’t have to listen to him. You turn another corner, refilling the ammo in your pistol as the sound of pounding footsteps echo down the long concrete hallways of this underground base. You wait for the man to turn the corner and shoot him right between the eyes, the muzzle on your pistol only does so much and the sound bounces off the walls. ”I said to get out of there soldier!”
You snarl, “I’m getting this fucking USB drive, fuck off!” You say into comms as you run down the halls. Lights flicker above you and distantly you can hear soldiers yelling. Just a few more turns, you tell yourself as you slide into a wall, using your arms you push off it and keep going. Once out of this god forsaken underground, NOT abandoned, USSR base you’d die happy never seeing another concrete hall. You slam the door open to the server room stored deep in the base and lock it behind you, hoping that might spare you some time between you and soldiers surely running down the halls towards you.
”Don’t ignore me Sergeant!” His voice comes out warbled, likely because you’re so far underground. You clench your jaw so hard your teeth hurt as you fling open different desk drawers, toss everything onto the desk in search of the USB they sent you here for in the first place. After six desks, you realize there is no way there is a USB.
”Fucking CIA intel.” You grab an unused USB from a desk and jam it into the nearest computer. “Fucking lucky I took that damn class.” You mutter to yourself as you bypass the passwords and begin to download the information.
”Sergeant! I said get out of there, use your bloody ears!”
”I have to download everything myself!” You yell into the comms, “The intel was shite!” You slam your pistol into the PC you’re not currently using. “Fucking CIA.”
”I don’t care! I’m pulling us from this mission.”
”I’m getting this USB Lieutenant, you’re welcome to chew me out once I’m back on the surface.” You snap, “Going dark.”
”Don’t you da-“ You rip the wires out of your comms and throw the damn thing onto the floor.
Ghost yells into the comms again but only gets static back, he looks down at the base from the scope of his sniper. It looks abandoned, it looks small and easy to navigate but he heard what you said. He knows that its all a facade, that the terrorist group had found tunnels to another base nearby and have been smuggling weapons and food between those tunnels, hardly ever having to go outside at this base. Which is what led the intel team to believe its been abandoned and therefore an easy op. His heart is pounding against his chest and it hurts from how hard its beating against his chest, he keeps trying the comms. “Gator! Gator turn your comms back on!” He snarls into the mic but still nothing.
It’s then that it dawns on him that you didn’t just turn comms off, you ripped the wiring out. “God damn it.” He grunts as he gets off the ground, the snow disguising him falls to the ground as he hauls his sniper up and buries it under the snow between two trees. He pulls out his shitty cracked phone, that he frankly refuses to replace. He knows why and its not because he doesn’t like the newer versions. It’s because this one has those pictures of you, the version of you that hadn’t turned your back on civilian life yet. The version of you that makes him feel kind of sick for looking at now that he knows you now.
He opens up his map to the coordinates to the nearest safe house, and grabs his pistol before he puts his phone away. He sighs and makes his way down towards the base that must be crawling with enemy terrorists but no one gets left behind. And he’s not about to let you die down there, his grip on his pistol tightens for just a second before he forces his fist to relax. He saunters his way in, everyone is far too distracted with chasing you down to pay attention to the cameras. He slides down the ladder into the base and is immediately greeted with the muffled sound of an alarm. “Fucking hell.” He mutters as he readies his pistol and knife.
You grunt, push the metal cabinet against the door, pushing through the pain in your thigh to do so. By the time it’s in place, you collapse against the wall next to it, grunting at the pain that shoots up your thigh in quick bursts. You look at the bullet wound and can’t help the disgust that crawls up your face when you realize it's pumping blood out in the rhythm of your heart beat. It’s funny, you’ve been shot before but you never had the time to look at it. It makes sense that it would do that though. You lean your head back against the concrete wall and can’t help the sob that rips it way out of your throat. Not because you’re going to die, not entirely because of that. Because you’re going to die in a concrete box alone.
You smear your bloody hand against the wall, wiping it off as you fumble with your shirt, pull just enough fabric out and rip it. No, you think, you’re not going to die here. Anywhere but in fucking Siberia surrounded by enemies and in a damn concrete room underground. You wrap the torn fabric around your thigh, just above the wound and wrap it tightly. So tightly you can actually feel the blood flow being slowed and this time on purpose. You check the bullets in your pistol and laugh when you see only two. “And I’m fucking out.” You mumble just as you hear someone’s boots echo outside of the room. You rise on shaky legs and bite your tongue to keep from crying out from the pain but walk over to the corner. You raise the gun and point towards the metal cabinet that is rocking from the force of what must be either several people pushing or one big motherfucker.
You don’t pray, no sense in praying right now. Even if you did ask for forgiveness you wouldn’t get it, the blood on your hands is more than any person can justify, not even God because it is a rule. Thou shall not murder. You huff out a laugh at that, well you’ve certainly sinned. The metal cabinet comes crashing down and in bursts three men. Fuck. You fire your last two shots and take down the first two but when the third enemy hears the gun click, he laughs. It’s an ugly and horrible laugh, one that expresses his entire arrogance of you being in this situation. Wounded and without any ammo, your knife left behind in some fuckers neck a few corners ago. “You lose.” He taunts as he walks closer and your leg finally loses feeling, you slide down the wall as you stare at the man who is going to hopefully bring you death.
You’re reminded of that quote you read once, When I die, bury me in the woods, the wolves will be kinder to me than any man. And if you weren’t about to meet your end, you’d laugh at the fact you can’t even remember the woman who said it. You hope she got her wish. The man raises his pistol and presses it to your temple. You hear a bang echo in the room and expect for it all to be over but you grunt when the man lands on you. “What the fuck?” You mutter as you struggle to push the weight of a dead man off of you. He’s pulled off of you and you look up at the bloody skull face plate, “Aren’t you just a life saver?” You quip before you throw up.
Ghost huffs when you pass out after throwing up and narrowly avoiding his boots. He hauls you up and over his shoulder, tucking your pistol into your thigh holster. Trying to get you up the ladder was hell, he was constantly afraid that his grip would loosen and you’d fall to your death. The walk to the safe house is about half way done when he feels your stirring. He grips you tighter just in case you try to flail around and attempt to land yourself in the snow.
When you come to, you realize that you’re over someone’s shoulder. Just as you’re about to flail around, the memory of Ghost standing over you. “Awake now?” Ghost asks, his voice rough as always and that reminds you of someone you used to know. You give your reply in the form of a groan which is all that seems to want to leave your mouth. “We’re about an hour away from a safe house.”
”And I wasn’t told?” You snap, anger pushing past the way you feel like you’re going to throw up if you speak again.
”Need to know.”
”Well I might’ve needed to know!” You flail your arms around harmlessly before you collapse back to being a rag doll on his back. He doesn’t respond and when you think he’s about to return to his normal grumpy silence, he breaks it.
”What the fuck were you thinkin’?” He snaps and you jolt awake from the half sleep you had unknowingly slipped into. “Ripping your comm wires out and going dark. What the fuck Sergeant?”
”I wasn’t able to focus with you screaming at me to abandon the mission.” You immediately jump to defend, “I got the damn USB drive with the intel they need, I completed the mission.” You don’t even realize that he’s reached the safe house until he nearly kicks the door in because the doorknob is frozen. He practically tosses you onto the couch before slamming the door shut. “I completed the objective.” You nearly snarl out.
”You failed to follow simple orders to retreat.” He slams his pistol and knife down on the table, “You nearly died.”
”Yeah, well it didn’t seem like you’d care all that fucking much if I did! If I hadn’t gotten the USB,” You pull the damn thing from your front vest pouch and throw it onto the table. “then the entire thing would have been a waste!”
”I don’t care about the USB, if you’re in danger like that you follow my damn orders! I can’t lose you!” Ghost grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you just a little. You look at him, feeling confusion creep up before it is swallowed down by anger.
”What?”
”Forget about it.”
”No. You’ve been treating me like a damn nuisance the minute I joined the task force and now you suddenly care? Why now huh? Why now? Because you sure didn’t act like I mattered very much.”
”I said forget about it.” He snarls but you go to stand on shaking legs
”No fuck that! Fuck you Ghost! What changed?” You keep hounding him until he slams his fist down the table and rips off his mask.
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He says your name gently, like he’s trying to soothe an animal but you’re frankly ready to sink your teeth into his skin if he tries to approach. “You didn’t even have the courage to write? Not even a little postcard? Something! Anything! To let me know you’re not dead? You’re lucky I’m not able to walk.” You spit.
Rage boils up in you so quickly, so quickly you aren’t able to express it all just through yelling. It burns you up, sets you on fire and throws lighter fluid into that inferno any time you think it's about to burn a little less. It’s all consuming anger mixed with all those years of grief that you never properly addressed, just slapped a bandaid on called military life and carried on. Hot tears run down your face as you scream and rage at him. You even throw something at him, though he ducks out of the way easily. “You fucking bastard! You bastard! Fuck you Simon Riley!” You scream as you cry, head pounding from something. The pain in your thigh? The rage in your temple? Or how hard you’re crying? Probably a mixture of all three. “You’re dead! I buried you! I went to your funeral Riley!” You throw something else at him, probably an MRE.
”Would you listen-“ Simon tries to say but you immediately cut him off. Hearing his voice makes whatever walls you have built up over these five years crumble so easily. You can’t let him speak or else you’ll fall into his arms and just cry. And you need to be angry because you deserve to be angry.
”No! You listen to me Simon Riley!” You ball your hands into fists, “Why? Why did you treat me like shit? Why did you undermine me at every turn? It’s bad enough that you let me believe that you were dead! Wasn’t that enough for you? But of course it wasn’t, you had to make my life hell because you met me again!”
”Shut up!” Simon finally snaps, his brown eyes swirling with fury and guilt. “I had my reasons and if you would just-”
”Well what were they then? Huh? I’m all fucking ears.”
”You keep interrupting me. If you didn’t-“
”You had months to come clean Simon! Years if you count the time before I met you again and after all that time you couldn’t just be a man and tell me? Couldn’t even send me a hint that you were alive?” You slam your fist into the wall, you ignore the pain that shoots right up your arm into your shoulder. You glare at him through your tears and wipe at them frantically. “You didn’t even try.”
”I did it to protect you! And if you’d just let me speak I’d tell you all the reasons I had to not tell you or even let you think I was alive!” Simon finally manages to say, he goes to speak again and you hold up your hand.
”Don’t talk to me Simon Riley.” You say as you wipe away any tears from your cheeks that hadn’t rolled all the way down. Your eyes burn and your stomach hurts from just how much you’re feeling right now. Deep down, past the anger you feel relief because he’s alive. Your Simon is alive and maybe more rough around the edges with a scar bisecting his lip, a nasty scar along his cheek and nose broken and not properly set several times. You’re also sure his eye bags have increased tenfold since you last saw him but his eye black keeps that little fact hidden from you. His teeth are chipped and broken but his brown eyes still hold that same depth. You can tell he still smiles the same and he’s still that overprotective boy who had scared off your date that one time just by opening the door.
That’s still your Simon Riley. But damn him to the deepest hell and back for making your heart hurt so badly. “Fine.” He grits out before he marches to what you assume is the safe house bathroom and slamming the door behind him.
There is something wrong with me. That is Simon’s first thought when he looks at himself in the mirror that must be old because his reflection is warped. There is something wrong with me and it's not the scars or the way my joints ache when I stand or sit down. There is something wrong with me and it makes my blood run black. Simon wonders if he had been born wrong. He suspects he’s always been this way, he was his father’s son after all, doomed to be awful to all of those he knows. To use them and drain them dry until they cut him off or he tosses them away. He doesn’t want you to be part of that cycle, to be a part of the cycle that always results in those close to him dying.
He already lost his family, he couldn’t lose you too so he cut you out completely. It was better if you thought he was dead. You were better off thinking he was dead in the ground even if it hurt you, even if it hurt him. And fuck did it hurt that first year, every time something happened he wanted to call you or text you. Tell you all about it late at night in a part of base where no one would care if he was awake if they even dared to approach him at all. Simon wanted to return to you more then anything but Ghost hadn’t dug himself out of that grave and lost his entire family as consequence for not fucking dying just for you to meet that same fate. No, you’d be his only in memory. Maybe one day he’d stalk your social media and find that you’ve moved on. Hopefully out of that fucking city, working a good paying job with a man who deserved you.
And it didn’t matter how much that thought made his supposedly ice heart hurt. It didn’t matter because he was dead and there was nothing he could give you besides this rotting body and whatever love he could scrape together for you.
Simon looks at himself in the mirror, completely maskless and bare for what felt like the first time in years. It felt like his skin had been pulled away to show the maggots, rotting tendons and muscle underneath. Every tear that had left your beautiful eyes had felt like acid on his skin, every word thrown his way a well placed knife throw. He knew he deserved all that malice and if you didn't want to talk to him, then he wouldn’t talk to you. No matter how much he wants to.
The next two days go by slowly, it reminds you of the time you had to go through a bog. Slow movements and time seemed to slow to a fucking crawl as you traversed the bog to go around an enemy encampment so you could get the jump on them from behind. It didn’t matter that your clothes had been soaked through or that you could feel the cold of the water seeping into your bones. You kept going. So the same logic was applied here. Your bullet wound in your thigh eventually got treated properly, in silence of course. Simon had given you the first aid kit and you did your best with what you had. Digging out the bullet had to be one of the most painful experiences you’ve ever had.
Simon had wanted to step in and do it himself but he knew you’d sooner accept an infection then let him any closer then needed. By the end of the hour and several deep, guttural screams cut off only by the belt between your teeth, you had managed to pull the bullet out. You were quick to stitch the hole closed and to wrap it in bandages. When that was over, you only had enough strength to crawl onto the shitty couch and pass out.
The first day not talking to him was filled with tension. It was so thick you could cut it with your knife, if you had it that is. It’s still stuck in that asshole’s neck which sucks because it was a good neck. You were hesitant to put any pressure on your wound, terrified of ripping your frankly shit stitches and increasing the chances of you getting an infection. You spent the entire day cleaning and taking apart your gun with occasional glares sent to Simon if he tried to enter the same room as you and stay for more than a few minutes.
He understood your anger, he did, but he couldn’t stand it at the same time. He wants to sit right next to and soak in your presence in a way he hadn’t allowed himself before this. He hadn’t bothered to put his mask back on and when he had stepped out of the bathroom without it the first time you had jerked like someone had pinched you. You could still tell he had blonde hair from his eyebrows but seeing his blonde hair in a buzz cut had felt like an electric shock. That was still your Simon even all these years later and that made you angrier. How could he? How dare he? After all these years, he looked the same despite the scars on his face but you? Do you still look the same despite the weariness in your eyes and being grief eaten.
The only word he spoke to you was, “There’s a blizzard coming in tomorrow.” You had only given a grunt in acknowledgement which he had to admit, stung. How many times had he responded to you like that while trying to get you to quit and transfer somewhere else? Far too many times, he ran a gloved hand through his prickly hair as he shook his head. God he had been so fucking stupid and stubborn. As it turns out, the blizzard couldn’t wait until tomorrow or maybe it was the next day. The wind shook the entire safe house, the walls creaked and groaned from the force of it. The windows were covered by snow or maybe it was a white out, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t even want to lift your head to check. You were fucking freezing despite your thermals and the blanket. Your teeth chattered as you pulled the blanket even closer and closed your eyes. Your cheeks were numb and you could barely feel your nose, your fingers actually hurt from how cold they were.
You blew more warm breath into your cupped hands, your entire body shivered as another burst of wind caused the house to groan from the weight of it. You glanced around the living room/kitchen area, the fireplace was boarded up but it wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t, you had no wood. The only thing of light was a battery powered lamp that you had been surprised still worked. You knew where Simon was, in the only other room besides the bathroom, the bedroom. Getting up those stairs would have been impossible for you the first two days here with your injury. Hell, you even doubted if you had enough strength to do it now even with the protein and nutrient packed MRE’s given to you for rations. But you suspected if you didn’t seek out another form of warmth and soon, you’d end up a popsicle. And frankly? That sounded like a bad way to go.
You shakily got to your feet, where it was from being nervous about putting weight on your injured leg or if you were cold, you couldn’t be sure. But you wobble up the stairs, gripping the rail for life the entire way and nearly falling when you finally manage to get the doorknob to turn. Simon catches you, he opens his mouth to chastise you before he realizes the state you’re in. He mutters your name, brown eyes filled with worry as you shrug, too tired and frozen to verbally shrug. He shakes his head and brings you to the mattress in the corner, he quickly runs downstairs and grabs your blanket before returning upstairs. You grumble, which honestly was just noises from the back of your throat as he settles next to you, pulling both blankets over the two of you. After a few minutes and warming up a little you mumble, “This doesn’t change that I’m upset with you.”
”I would never expect it to.” He whispers back as he wraps an arm around you. It shouldn’t be as easy as it is, like two pieces of a puzzle finally snapping together. You seep warmth from him like a leech while he holds you close and steady enough that you don’t shiver or shake. He stays awake the entire time, long after you’ve fallen asleep on your pack-made-pillow. Simon looks at you and drinks you in properly this time. Despite the blizzard outside still raging on and the cold temperatures making your skin lose a little color, you’re still as stunning as the day he confessed his love to you. He can still recall that day, sitting at a bench a little ways away from the reception party. The cool October breeze blowing through and the way you looked so relaxed. So content with the moment and with him. He kissed you that night, he kissed you like a starving animal. Like he might never get to kiss you again and that he needed to take what he could now.
“I love you Simon Riley. I have since we were 15. Don’t leave me again Simon, not if you can help it.” He was fucking idiot not to say it back, he didn’t even think to do so because his heart had been stabbed the moment you pleaded with him not to leave because he was leaving again. He was leaving you, the best thing in his entire life. Then he came back fucked but he did his best to get better. He didn’t want to touch you, he was terrified he would hurt you. Force himself on you, every night he dreamed that he was hurting you and that he enjoyed it. The therapy helped a little, you and his family helped a lot. Having something to return to helped so much. Then it all came burning down and damn it, he wasn’t going to let you die. So he killed the men then he returned to Mexico and killed Roba and his entire cartel. Then he never returned home, he never let you even think that he was alive. He glances down at you, sleeping in his arms
Sometimes, if he looks at you even now, he can recall the day the two of you met.
It was so cold and the rain didn’t make anything better. He trembles in his too-big shirt and pants which are rolled up to stop him from tripping again. He sniffles and wipes at his face, if he wipes away tears or the rain he doesn’t know. Other kids pass by him quickly with their umbrellas, rain coats and boots, protected by the things their mum’s and dad’s buy for them. His dad had sold his and Tommy’s umbrella’s and coats to afford more alcohol and drugs. Being the good big brother that Simon told himself he was, he let Tommy take their mum’s coat instead of him. He didn’t regret that, he could never regret making Tommy’s life a little better.
He isn’t expecting you to walk up to him with an umbrella with yellow ducks on it. He recognizes you almost instantly, you go to his class. You ask him, “What are you doing without an umbrella?” with your head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.
He mumbled out, eyes averted to the ground and soggy strawberry hair sticking to his forehead, “I don’t have one.” You asked if his mum didn’t buy him one. She did, she always did her best to provide for him and Tommy but his dad always ruined it. You don’t wait for him to respond, you don’t push for further answers or make fun of him for not having an umbrella or raincoat.
Instead, you smile at him and hold the umbrella with yellow ducks on it over his head after pulling the hood of your coat over your head. “Well it doesn’t matter now, I’m here and we can share.” You give him your name and he gives you his with the tiniest smile on his face. You held the umbrella over his head the entire way there then you walked him home because it was still raining. You called him a friend.
When you wake up, he lets you sit in silence. The blizzard had mostly passed through during the night, the worst of it was over but the safe house outside of the blankets was freezing cold. Simon knew he wasn’t exactly in a rush to leave the warmth and comfort of this moment. The silence hangs between the two of you and at some point, you begin to play with fingers in the way you used to when growing up. It takes a better part of an hour for him to work up the courage and it really feels like he is going to throw up when he whispers, “Do you still love me?” It’s quiet that if you didn’t know his voice that you’d think it was the wind still blowing.
He swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the killing blow. For you tell him that you don’t love him anymore, especially after these five years and the shit he pulled. But it doesn’t come, instead he hears your shuffling and feels your slightly cold hands cup his stubble covered cheeks. He peaks his eyes open and nearly melts at the sight before him. You, nearly in tears as you look at him so fondly like you did that October day. “Of course I still love you Simon Riley.” He can’t stop himself from closing the gap between the two of you as tears spill from both of your eyes and kiss you.
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”I love you Simon Riley.” You kiss his cheeks, “I love you.” You kiss his forehead, “And I’ll keep loving you for eternity.” Simon melts with each kiss you give him and sighs when you kiss his lips again. His large hands find your waist and tug you closer, his thick thigh parting yours as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. You happily part your lips for him, your hands gripping his shoulders as his tongue explores your mouth and a needy moan leaves you. Your heart aches still and tears keep slipping down your face because he’s here. Simon Riley is alive and has been for years. The relief is almost enough to make you forgive him on the spot.
You’re taken by surprise when he kisses you, it's gentle and some tears slip between your connected lips. You don’t even realize that either you or him has started to cry but you return his kiss, trying to keep him this close for as long as you can without breathing. His hands tug you closer, if he could tear open his ribs and stuff you in there instead of his heart and lungs, he would. When you finally pull away, tears still running down your cheeks, you look at him. Tears run down his cheeks too and wet the fabric of his shirt now that they’re not being caught between your lips and spread between your cheeks and his. “Say it again.” He croaks and you repeat it.
Maybe you are forgiving him in a way, not fully. God knows that it will take a lot more than just this to make you forgive him but it's a start. And it’s a start you desperately need, your fingers dig into him further which pulls a groan from him. Immediately you loosen your grip on him, fearing that you’ve hurt him until he pulls away completely breathless and with pupils so wide there’s hardly any brown left, “Don’t stop doing that.” He leans in and whispers against the shell of your ear. It sends goosebumps rising up on your skin as you dig your fingers back into him right as his mouth connects with yours again.
He rests a hand on the back of your neck to keep you close and connected to him. You feel like a teenager again when he slips one of his thick thighs between your own and you grind down on it nearly out of pure instinct. The pressure of your pants seam pressing against your clit makes your legs weak and a liquid warmth to pool. You do it again and you moan into the kiss, his other hand which he had used to cup your cheek immediately went to your hip and grabbed it. He doesn’t try to stop you, instead he encourages you to grind against his thigh. He mutters something against your lips and it comes out muffled but it sounds like, “Take what you need love.” And you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
You grind against him, a little harder this time which causes your entire body to jolt as the electric pleasure shoots up your spine. His hand on the back of your neck tangles itself into your hair and he pulls away only barely so he can catch his breath. You’re left breathless and panting as you grind against his thigh, he rests his forehead against yours and his eyes focus on you using his thigh. “Fuck.” He mutters as his hand on your hip moves up and cups your chest. “I’m sorry.” He whispers and you furrow your brows, your pace faltering at his words.
”Did I do something wrong?”
“No! No, I’m sorry fo’ bein’ such a twat.” He says and pushes his thigh back against you. Your head tips back as a moan leaves your throat and you resume your previous pace. He gropes and paws at your chest, trying to pinch and twist at your hardened nipples from over the fabric of your shirts. “Love, please let me- let me push your shirt up.” He begs and you immediately give your consent. He doesn’t waste another second and pushes your shirt up as far as it would go then he grumbles something to himself before he pulls it over your head and discards it nearby.
He dips his head down and immediately takes a nipple into his mouth while his hand squeezes the other breast. He sucks on it, laving his tongue over it like a dog and letting his teeth graze it slightly when he figures out it makes your hips jolt. You tighten your grip on his shoulders as your thighs tense up and you desperately keep rocking your hips against his thigh. “Si-Simon I’m cl-“ You’re cut off by your own moan when he switches nipples and when he looks up at you between blonde lashes your orgasm washes over you. Your hips stutter and your entire body jolts once or twice as you soak your underwear. Simon swears at the sight of your mouth falling open and your head tipping back to expose your entire neck.
His fingers are nimble as he unbuttons your pants, he hooks his thumbs under the waistband of both the pants and your underwear then yanks them down. “Let me? Please let me make you feel good.” He begs and you nod, mind still trying to piece itself back together after the first orgasm. He shuffles under the covers and it’s kind of funny to see the bottom half of his body sticking out but the sight of it is pulled away from you as he yanks you further down the mattress.
”Simon-“ You yelp before it’s cut away into a moan. There’s no preamble or teasing, likely because he feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t have his mouth on your cunt now, before he buries his face in it. You grab at the blankets, your mouth falling open as you moan when his tongue flicks your engorged clit. He can’t seem to decide if he wants to focus on your clit or your pulsing hole, dipping his tongue down to slurp up your juices before returning to your clit. He’s desperate, his hands are gripping your thighs like you might try and pull away despite your moans and pleads for more filling the safe house.
He eases one thick finger into you as he sucks on your clit and you see stars in your vision. “Like that- oh my god- like that please don’t stop.” You whimper as your fingers card through his hair. You moan and start to squirm a little as he begins to pump his thick digit in and out of you. He seems to be searching for something, trying different things and sticking to the one that makes you keen the loudest. He crooks his finger just right and your thighs tense up around his head as a moan tears through your throat.
Like the sniper that he is, he focuses on that spot within your increasingly soaked cunt as he tortures your clit with his mouth. The slurping sounds have your cheeks heating up and you squirm as he pushes a second finger into you with no resistance. He rubs against that soft spot inside you that causes your body to relax further and pins down your hips when you try to squirm away from his tongue.
“Simon- nngh- that feels so-“ You can barely string together a sentence as he seems intent on rendering you boneless and incapable of speech as he abuses your g-spot. You feel a tightness growing within your abdomen, like something is winding up before it lets go. It barely registers in your brain that you’re on the verge of cumming. Simon must feel it too, with the way your pussy clamps down around his fingers, because he redoubles his efforts. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your pussy pulses without a rhythm and you’re thrown over the edge. The muscles in your thighs clench involuntarily as the pleasure runs through you. He keeps rubbing at that spot through your orgasm, his fingers soaked in your slick as you twitch a little from the aftershocks.
You try to move upwards when he eases a third finger into you but he holds you down. “It’s too much.” You choke out as he crawls up your body, leaving a trail of sticky wet kisses. “Si please.” You hiccup as he begins to work you open with those three fingers.
”Got to work you open love.” He mutters reassuringly before capturing your lips in a kiss. He swallows down your moans like the greedy man he is, keeping all of these sounds for himself. He doesn’t care if the two of you are the only people around for miles upon miles, he doesn’t even want the walls to know your sounds in case they ever learn to talk. You whine at his words and a hand grabs his bicep as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. The stretch of three of his fingers is delicious, just that slight sting that ebbs away the more he finger fucks you.
It feels like he rips the next orgasm out of you, your entire body tenses as it slams into you. You feel yourself gush on his thick fingers and he keeps going, keeps fucking you through it until your pushing at his arm and pleading for a moment of reprieve. It’s only until tears gather in your eyes that he finally stops. Simon peppers your face in kisses while he whispers that he’s sorry. He promises that he’ll do right by you this time, no more running away or disappearing. He swears it as you unbuckle his pants and pulls them down. There’s a noticeable wet patch on his boxers but you don’t comment on it, just pull those down as well. Your mouth waters and your eyes widen when you see his cock.
It's thick, uncut and long. The tip is red from neglect and drips pre-cum like a leaky faucet. His cock is heavy that it hangs low and his brown eyes are filled with lust as he watches you reach down and wrap your hand around his length. “That’s not going to fit.” You finally whisper out, meeting his eyes which crinkle from the cocky smile on his face.
He leans down, body draping over yours. You can feel his body heat rolling off him in waves as he takes his cock from your hands and lines up the bulbous tip with your cunt. He strokes it a few times with his slick coated fingers as he looks you in the eyes before whispering, “I’ll make it fit.” When he pushes it, he does it slowly. You can feel every ridge, every pulsing vein of his cock against your walls. Despite having stretched you with three of his fingers before hand and making you cum twice the sting remains. It’s a sweet burn, a delicious heat that licks from your hips up to the back of your skull. It grounds you to the moment as his fingers dig into you as his hips meet yours, bottoming out in you he lets out a low moan. His eyes flicker down to where the two of you meet and he licks his lips at the sight.
He pulls back just a little and the squelch that comes from your cunt when he pushes back in makes your face hot. He leans down and grabs your uninjured thigh. He hooks his arm around it and forces it up as he cages your body between his arms. You grab onto his shoulder and bicep, your eyes can’t seem to leave his as he thrusts in and out of you. The pace isn’t fast but his hips snap against yours, the sound of skin on skin fills the room and mixes with each noise pulled from you. Simon swallows the lump in his throat as he supports himself on one arm and cups your cheek, his thumb swiping something away. You sniffle and reach your hands up to his face, you try to drink his face. The same face you thought you would never see as tears roll down your cheeks and his cock fills you past the point of full.
“I love you.” You say between hiccups and moans. You watch as his eyes water and he buries his face within the crook of your neck. He mouths at the sweaty skin there and whispers that he loves you back. That he loves you so much it hurts and that he’s sorry. He repeats it over and over again with each roll of his hips and that feeling within your stomach grows again quickly. With each snap of his hips you feel yourself getting closer and more tears leak from your eyes. You cum again with his name on your lips and feel his hips stutter and loose pace. He grinds up against you, nudging your cervix in a way that causes a slight pinch within your lower abdomen that makes you clench down harder on him.
You feel him cum, you hear his groan right next to your ear as his hips come to a complete stop and pressed against the meat of your thighs. His sticky warm cum fills you, the feeling is odd. Foreign but not entirely unwelcome as he stays in that position after letting your thigh rest back down onto the mattress. You twist your head to the side and give him a quick kiss, “Say it again?” He whispers.
”I love you.”
Simon lets out a shaky sigh, the relief he feels is palpable, “I love you too.”
It’s not all that surprising that he can’t keep his hands off you and you’re not innocent either. After seemingly fucking all of your anger towards him out, the two of you cling to each other. He rocks his hips into your again, every movement lighting up your nerves in a way that seems never ending. Like this pleasure will swallow you whole but you don’t mind, it hides the twinges of pain from your thigh from being pressed so close to your chest. You kiss all of his face, soft moans from both of you mixing together into a melody.
”How long until someone is able to get us?” You ask later while you lay on his chest and trail your fingers up and down his abdomen. You’re exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open and the heat between the two of you is slowly lulling you further into sleep.
”The radio said they’ll be here tomorrow.” Simon replies and you mindlessly hum.
”What will happen when we leave?” You ask, “When all of this is over.”
”We’ll figure it out.” he murmurs and kisses you. “Rest up love.” You’re not surprised, actually delighted, when he wakes you up with kisses on your neck. He trails down from your jaw, nipping occasionally at the soft flesh which earns a wanton moan from you.
”Happened to resting?” You tease and he chuckles against you.
”Oops.” He says and it would be convincing if you couldn’t feel his smile. Simon’s hands trail down your naked body and he pushes two fingers back into your sopping wet cunt. You gasp and arch your back, eyes fluttering closed as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “You’re so wet.” He groans, like he still can’t believe that you still want him. “Never going to let you go again.” He promises as he begins to abuse that soft part inside you.
Simon kisses your nose and you chuckle. “Excited?” You ask and he nods. It’s been two years since that mission when everything changed again. Two years since you found out Simon Riley never died, that he had refused to die once again. It had taken a little while to figure out what the both of you wanted, therapy helped a lot. It helped you realize that the military lifestyle, despite it being the thing you had only known for the past five years, wasn’t truly for you. Of course you had known that you had only joined in Simon’s memory but therapy helped you let go of it.
God bless John Price, bless him for being utterly professional despite two of his soldiers fucking which has to be the most unprofessional thing to do in the military. He looked at you with that smile that made his eyes crinkle when you placed the discharge paperwork on his desk that day 8 months ago. “Finally figured out what you want then?” He asked as he immediately signed off on it, not even bothering to read through it.
”Yeah, I have, Captain.” You said with a fond smile, you’d miss this. You’d miss him, Gaz and Soap but it wasn’t like they couldn’t come and see you when on leave. You’d only be an hour away in a nearby city anyways. You glance at the two keys in your hand, one for you and one for Simon. You place the second one into his palm. “Let’s go see our home then.” You pick up the cat carrier and Mittens meows in protest. You coo your reassurances to her, promising that it’s almost over. The three of you climb the steps up the porch of the townhouse you now own and Simon unlocks the door.
You glance around the currently empty space then glance behind you to the moving truck parked out on the side of the street. “I think it might take us a day to get everything in here.” You say when you turn to look at Simon
”I’d say two.” Simon says as he takes the cat carrier from your hands and sets it down next to the stairs. You quirk an eyebrow up and part your lips in an ‘o’ shape when you realize what’s on his mind.
”Really Riley?” You ask as you loop your arms around his neck and he chuckles as your expression.
”I’ve always wanted to bend you over a countertop.” He purrs as he tugs his mask down and plants a kiss on your neck which sends shivers down your spine.
”Is that so?” You ask as he backs you up against it after closing the front door. He hoists you up on top of it with a ‘mhm’ before he captures your lips in a kiss and his hands settle on your hips.
You grasp at the edge of the counter, moans being punched out of you with each thrust of his hips. The sound of skin on skin echoes in the house and mixes with his groans. Simon’s fingers dig a little harder into your hips, enjoying the sight of how your fat squishes up between his fingers. “You’re so fuckin’ stunning.” And all you can respond with is a moan as his fat cock abuses the tip of your cervix. “I’m gonna retire.” He babbles and his words hardly register in your mind as you begin to clench down on him as a sign you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. He loops a hand around and rubs mean circles around your clit which sends you falling off the edge.
He swears as your cunt clenches down on him like a vice and he spills himself in you all while he keeps rubbing at your clit. You lay there panting, trying to gather your senses as you blink away the tears of overstimulation once his hand falls away. You gasp and gulp down the air, “Simon?”
”Fuck I said that out loud didn’t I?”
You can’t help but giggle and shake your head. “You mean it?”
”Yeah, I mean it. I’m gonna look into retiring, I can’t be a soldier forever.” He rests his sweaty forehead against your back as he speaks.
”I love you so much Simon Riley.”
His hand reaches out and loops through yours, the matching rings on your fingers glinting in the light. “I love you too.”
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alotofpockets · 14 hours
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Embracing opportunitues | Lotte Wubben-Moy x Arsenal!Reader
Where you're overworking yourself to earn a spot in the starting eleven
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k
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You hadn't realised how late it had gotten until the floodlights surrounding the pitch turned on engulfing the field with bright lights. “Shit.” You mutter under your breath, and start packing your stuff immediately.
While Leah had been out on injury you had started almost every game, but ever since she had made her comeback, you were back to starting out on the bench. Of course, you were overjoyed for Leah to be back from the horrible injury she suffered from, but you couldn't help the sinking feeling in your chest every time after that your name was no longer amongst the starting eleven.
That is why you had been training more and more outside of your regular team training sessions. Running drill after drill, to perfect your form, and build your stamina. You were doing everything in your power to better yourself. Anything to give you a leg up, and to prove to your coaches that you deserved a starting position.
“You were out late again.” Lotte's voice comes from the kitchen. You can’t quite place her tone, so you drop your bag in the hallway and rush into the kitchen to apologise to her. “Love, I am so sorry, I totally lost track of time. I didn't mean to stay out so late.” 
Lotte stops your rambling by placing her hands on your shoulders. “Baby, relax, it's fine.” She brings you in for a hug and you relax into her arms. “How about you go take a shower, and I'll have dinner ready once you're done?” You thank her with a kiss, before quickly making your way to the bathroom, not wanting to delay dinner even longer.
Your girlfriend knew how you were feeling and tried her best to support you in everything. She even trained with you some of the days you were training extra. Recently she had gone through a similar situation with her national team. After years of hard work she finally earned herself a starting position with the Lionesses. You had been so proud of her, she deserved that spot on the field, and that wasn't just you being biassed. She was an amazing defender, one you would add to your team any time someone asked you to build a team.
The quick shower did you good. You got dressed in a pair of sweats and a hoodie from Lotte. When you head downstairs, you’re immediately met with the most amazing smell coming from the kitchen. “Oh love, you’ve outdone yourself. It smells incredible.” You peck her shoulder a couple times as you hug her from the back while she’s washing up the dishes and utensils that she used. 
The soft moment between the two of you gets interrupted by the loud ringing of your phone. You take the device out of your pocket and see Jonas’s name on the screen. “It’s Jonas, I’ve got to take this really quickly.” Lotte nods, “Take your time, love, dinner needs another 10 minutes anyways.”
“Hi Jonas, I'm alright, thank you. How are you?” For the rest of the conversations Lotte hears you hum and say okay a couple of times, but it's still unclear to her what the call was about. “Alright, thank you. I will let you know tonight.”
You slowly pocket your phone again. With furrowed brows you turn back to Lotte, you were trying to process the offer that Jonas just gave you by speaking your thoughts out loud. “He just asked me if I wanted to play in midfield while Lia is out, and Kyra can't play for a couple games.”
Lotte nods, “And what do you think?” she asks, careful not to assume your feelings. “I don't know Lot. I'm a defender. I've been training my whole life to be a defender, how am I supposed to prove myself if I don't even get to play in my own position.” 
Lotte reaches out and takes your hand in hers. “Sometimes, opportunities come in unexpected forms. You are an amazing footballer, and I don't think that is limited to defending. You're always moving forwards on the pitch, trying to work the flanks. I think you spend more time in the midfield than you think already. I would say embrace the opportunity and show them what you can do in that position. Make the position your own, and show them that having you in that position is something the team needs.”
You took a step towards Lotte, who instantly wrapped her arms around you. “You always know what to say, and you're so good with your words. What did I do to deserve you?” Your girlfriend chuckles lightly, “You didn't have to do anything but be yourself, and I try.” She keeps holding you until the oven dings, letting you know that dinner is ready. She kisses your forehead before stepping away to get the lasagne she made out of the oven. 
“Alright, eat up cause you’ve been training hard.” She puts some of the lasagne on your plate and you dig in instantly. “And a good cook, I’ve managed to get the whole package.” Lotte rolls her eyes jokingly. “It tastes amazing, baby, thank you for dinner.” While you loved a good joke, you would always show Lotte appreciation for the things that she did for you.
After dinner you called Jonas back, letting him know that you’d fill the spot in midfield. Lotte had convinced you that you should embrace the opportunity with both hands. You were determined to prove that you were more than just a defender. That you could be the versatile player to help the team. That you would be the difference that the team needed.
A couple months later, Lia was fully back from injury, and Kyra had been playing for a while again. You had been working hard, and actually finding the new position rather exciting. 
You had sat down with Jonas and Kim, talking about your future at Arsenal. Kim was very pleased with the way you had stepped up, and wanted to discuss the option of you being a part of the midfield squad moving forwards. 
After your meeting with them ended, you rushed to find Lotte. “How did the meeting go?” She asked the moment she saw you. “So... I’m going to be a regular starting midfielder!” Lotte’s face lit up at your words. What you had been working so hard towards was finally becoming a reality. 
She steps towards you and wraps her arms around you, lifting you in the air. “I am so proud of you. All your hard work led you to this moment, baby. You did it!”
-----
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enhagvrl · 3 days
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enhypen pointing out your insecurities
a/n: I'm backkkkk!!!! keep your eyes upon cause im currently working on a long sh fic and a series for niki. thank you to everyone for being patient with me and don't hesitate to send in your requests!!<33
rest : fifaz pocketz 02z
heeseung
“ Well I’d be damned if my girlfriend was actually as crazy as people call her to be.” 
You have always been a quiet kid, keeping to yourself most of the time. But someone managed to watch you get into a fight with a stranger on the street. You were simply trying to defend yourself from being harassed by some perverted stranger when you kicked them too hard in the side of their stomach and broke one or two ribs.
Since then rumours had been going around the campus that you were a brutal little shit who had gotten into a lot of fights which made you the target of other people’s gossip and just messed up your whole school life.
But at that time, heeseung was the one who really did not give in to those rumours -  he hung out with you and made you feel all sorts of giddy feelings you have never experienced with anyone else before. 
But right now was not the case, as you were left alone in your thoughts about heeseung maybe believing all those rumours about you too.
“ Baby, you okay?” heeseung asked, voice laced with concern over the sudden quiet atmosphere which took over the room within 5 seconds
“ huh? Yes? Yeah. I’m okay. Sorry, what were you saying?” you asked, your voice devoid of any sort of emotion which made heeseung wonder if he said something wrong.
“No you went silent all of a sudden so just got worried. What’s on your mind? Tell me.” hee said, turning his whole body towards you to make it known that you have his entire attention now. 
Not being able to take in the sudden change in the atmosphere, and the obliviousness of heeseung to the effect his words had on you, you muttered a quick “ sorry. I’ll be back.” and rushed out of the house leaving behind a confused heeseung who had not got a moment to register your apology properly before you already disappeared from his sight.
niki
“ Of course you wouldn’t be able to get in with that body of yours”
You had been trying real hard auditioning to get into this big dance team in your city which will be performing in SDC, one of the biggest dance competitions out there. But no matter how many routines you showed them, they still did not approve of you joining the team and told you to stay back in the studio. You were clearly aware that the reason they were not taking you in despite your excellent dancing skills was because of your body. You did not have a slim dancer body as other dancers have and SDC heavily depended on judging the figures of the dancers participating. But in hopes of changing that, you were constantly trying. 
“Bae, you good?” you snapped out of your trance, hearing your name being called. There stood Niki, breathing heavily and the track humble by kendrick lamar now softly playing in the background. 
“What are you thinking about?” he asked a second time, noticing your eyes were distant and how you stopped rambling about how unfair the world is to people like you. 
“....yeah…yeah yeah I’m fine…nothing…just kind of zoned out.” 
“ oi, don’t think too much about it. You couldn’t get in, you could not. That’s fine. You just have to work on your body more. You know competitions these days heavily depend on how well it looks executed and for that you are required to have a perfect body, as they call it.” he says, turning up the volume again and getting back to practise for his artist of the month performance. “Don’t ponder about it too much,  and just get to work with your body if you want to get into those big contests.” 
Instead of taking his constructive criticism as motivation like you always do, you felt tears welling up and ran out of the practice room. The music had stopped and quick footsteps could be heard behind you, but you ran without looking back.
© enhagvrl on tumblr, 2024.
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runningfrom2am · 2 days
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cold nights // part thirty-two
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summary: the end.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n:
the end!! omg!!guys thank you so much for being here through this whole story and this was LONG!! over 110k words of a lot of nonsense but to anyone who's made it this far,, ilysm. i'm gonna miss them!! stop they were everything to me :(
ANYWAY same with LTPF if you've read that, there will be an epilogue coming soon and also definitely more oneshots and maybe bonus content that i wish i included in the original series but just didn't make the cut. so stay tuned for that!!
if you liked this series, i'm obligated as well to plug my NEXT series that's coming soon, 'requiem'!! i am so excited about it so please follow me for updates on when that will be posted!! def soon!!
just one more time i wanted to say ily, and thank you :')
see you soon!
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board
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You keep your books tucked firmly to your chest as you walk into your first class, wearing the spare clothes you brought to Sejanus's house on Friday just in case you had to change. In case you spilled something on your white dress, or just felt the need to change- ironically enough.
Your normal seat in the front centre of the room is obviously free, considering also that you were quite early this morning. You had some readings you needed to catch up on anyway, in order to be prepared for midterms which were apparently coming up quickly.
It isn't long after you open your book before others begin to shuffle in, and much to your surprise, you feel the chair next to you pull back and see someone sit down. "Hi, Victor." The boy's voice says, forcing you to look up from your book.
Dark hair and dark eyes, you think you remember his name was Cancor. "Oh, my name is Y/N." You correct him kindly, adjusting nervously in your seat.
"I know that." He says, eyes merely slits as he seems to look past your own eyes and into your soul.
"You're... You're Cancor, correct? I don't believe we've properly met." You add, sitting up straighter.
"Crane." He states. "My last name is Crane."
"That's... yes that's a lovely name." You smile nervously, unsure what to say but still wanting to fill the silence he seemed so comfortable with. "Alliteration is such a fun thing to consider when naming a child..."
"It means spider." He states. "Did you ever meet my sister?" He asks, ignoring your nervous ramblings.
"No, no I don't believe I have. What is her name?" You ask.
"Arachne." The boy says, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly while you take a moment to wrack your mind to place it. He's acting as if you should know her, and suddenly you feel like you do.
You tilt your head slightly, allowing the memory to hit you like a freight train.
The funeral.
All you really remembered until now was being chained to a truck and paraded down the street you now recognize as the Corso, the body of his sister's tribute swinging above you while people screamed and cursed at you. Then, Coryo sang the national anthem.
"Oh, yes. Of course." You nod slightly, a frown settling over your features. "I am so sorry for your loss. Truly."
"No, you're not." He spits. "You don't care, and the fact that you're pretending to is just vile. She meant less than nothing to you and those animals- otherwise, she would still be here!"
You stammer, pushing yourself back in your seat as you grip the bottom of the chair. "No, no- I am sorry, I am. That should not have happened. It- It was horrible."
"Cancor." You silently thank the universe for your professor's quick intervention. "If you wouldn't mind returning to your usual seat and leaving Miss Y/L/N alone."
"We were just talking." Cancor replies, suddenly sweet as honey- cool and collected as if he wasn't just berating you over your faults in his sister's death.
"Go." Dr. Nero tells him again, nodding up toward the back of the lecture hall. "Before I am forced to ask you to leave."
The boy sighs in quiet frustration, slightly aggressive about his movements as he grabs his bag and stomps up the stairs.
You look up to your professor who greets the look with a curt nod and the smallest of sympathetic smiles.
It does nothing to quell the lightness you feel that usually signifies the trembling of your hands, which would soon spread. You close your eyes trying to take deep breaths that wouldn't come, but all you can see is the bodies of Arachne Crane and her tribute by the bars that had separated them. You have to open your eyes to remind yourself you aren't standing in the street, wrists still shackled to a truck. You can feel the chains weighing your wrists down to the desk as you think about it. You had almost entirely forgotten about the whole event- and the guilt of that was suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Cancor had never had the privilege of forgetting the way you had.
Quickly, you shove your books into your bag and stand, heading for the door. "Y/N." Dr. Nero's voice forces you to stop and you just turn to look at him, knowing full well you're unable to speak. "It's 8:58."
You nod slightly, looking down at the marble flooring that lay between you. "Start without me." You mumble, not giving him the chance to respond before you're leaving, accidentally bumping shoulders with some of the final students to enter.
You hadn't missed a single class yet, attendance was important, but right now you couldn't care less. Why should you even have the privilege of attending classes at the university in place of some of the academy's brightest minds who never got the chance? Like Arachne, and the three other mentors who were killed because of the games. You knew it wasn't necessarily your fault, but you understood Cancor's anger being directed at you. In a twisted way, you felt like you deserved it. They were meant to survive, you never were. Yet, here you were- a walking reminder to those students' friends and families that for some reason, they had to lose someone they shouldn't have.
You quickly pace down the nearly empty hall, trying to hold back your tears as long as you could. Feeling like you can't breathe is making it exponentially harder, and you wonder how you even walked out of the arena as it was. Adrenaline is a crazy beast- and you wished you had some leftover now. Sometimes, in moments like this, you wonder if you had used up your life's supply of the chemical the last time you were here in the Capitol.
Coryo was already running late after spending probably far too long conversing with your brother in the car, but he couldn't resist taking a detour into the arts building. He would just pass through, past your room just to glance inside and see if you were really there. Just to get a look at you.
He doesn't need to, though, turning a corner and just catching a glimpse of your hair as you disappear with a left turn at the end of the corridor. He was sure it was you.
Walking past your classroom he looks anyway, just to double-check, and as he suspected, you were gone.
He quickens his pace, taking advantage of his height difference over you to try and catch up with more rushed steps. "Y/N?" He calls out as he turns the same corner, but you're already hidden from view and the door at the far end of the hall is slamming shut.
As he continues down the corridor, a furrow knits its way into his brow. You must be headed to where you normally eat lunch, that is all that would make sense.
Without thinking, he follows. The courtyard is almost empty, aside from your frame curled up on the grass, knees tucked to your chest and bag discarded halfheartedly beside you on the damp grass. The sun casts a shadowed glow where it isn't blocked by trees or buildings in its path of rising, the grass is wet under his shoes as he quickly approaches you.
"Hey- hey, Y/N/N, it's me." He calls out as he walks up behind you. You turn your head, and then stand quickly.
"It- It's okay. I'm fine." You stammer, wiping your cheeks frantically. "You should g-go, you're already late."
"I'm not leaving you like this." He shakes his head, holding a hand out toward you as you avoid his eyes. "Tell me what happened, love. Talk to me."
You shake your head, shoulders backed to an invisible wall as you hold your palms over your face. You can't look at him right now- especially right now, when all you want is for him to hold you.
"You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers, taking a hesitant step closer. By now, you know full well he wouldn't hurt you. Not in the way he's saying, at least.
"You should go." You choke over the words that feel heavy in your mouth.
"Y/N, love, I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He repeats calmly.
"I want to go home." You sob. "I shouldn't have won, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be alive!" You say, voice picking up in frustration. "It's not fair. Nothing is fair, nothing."
He frowns as you lower your hands, clenching your fists at your sides. "Of course, you should be here."
"You don't get it!" You snap, and you hardly even sound like yourself.
This was it. This was your breaking point.
Coryo is taken back by your outburst, almost flinching at the abruptness of your shift. He had never seen you angry- he didn't even know it was possible. Of course it was. He'd spent all this time, all this energy trying to convince people that you were human. Anger comes with that, hand in hand like your cat and the fur that's clinging to his clothes at this very moment. You couldn't have one without the other. "Then explain it to me." He urges you, trying to sound anything other than defensive.
Your eyes soften, as if you're suddenly realizing that your anger was not entirely placed on him. You shake your head. "It's not... I cannot explain it and that is the worst part." You sigh, but the rage flashes in your eyes again as you look down. "Why was it me and not any of them? Why did so many of your classmates have to die? Why did Marcus escape only to face a worse fate than the rest of us, when he tried to help me too? Why am I enrolled at this stuffy university when my spot belongs to Arachne Crane in rights?"
"Arachne Crane?" Coryo mutters, eyes widening with confusion while he wonders where on earth that came from. He shakes his head quickly to dismiss the thought. "Marcus tried to save you, yes, that could have been you who escaped, that's true- but you were too busy trying to save me. And you did." He knows better than to accuse you of regretting that. He knows you don't.
When you don't reply, just staring at him head on now, frustrated and confused, he continues. "If we're going by this unexplainable logic of the universe, I think that it was you because instead of saving yourself, you saved me. And you did it again in the arena, when you went back for Jessup when I was looking at the screen and begging you silently to just ditch him. Same exact thing when you tried to get little Wovey up into the rafters with you, and hell! When you stared down the barrel of my gun, shaking head to toe from fear just to save the life of the Mayor's daughter, who was nothing but awful to everyone!" He says, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. "I've been trying to tell you for months, Y/N. It was you because you are the only person in this whole damn country who cares about someone other than themselves."
You just shake your head, and it's frustrating to him that you're unwilling to accept what he knows to be true. "It didn't work." You sniff. "You're the only one who survived me."
"Listen to me," Coryo says, reaching out and holding your face in his hands- throwing caution to the wind regarding how he knows to handle your panic attacks. "I survived because I had to learn how to love you."
You look into his eyes, flitting your own back and forth between them in an attempt to place any signs of deception. Blue, baby blue. You find none.
"And I did. And I'll love you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm embarrassed by that fact." Your eyes are squeezed shut by the time he finishes speaking, his thumbs swiping over the tear stains left down your cheeks by anger.
"It's not your fault." You mumble, shaking your head under his hold. "I do not fault you for being embarrassed."
"I'm not." He says again. "Look at me, please, love."
You pry your eyes open to face him.
"I've... I've had all this pressure my whole life to be perfect, and now it's worse than ever and I should have never let that get pushed onto you. I want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to be free to do whatever you want, and right now, the cost of that comes with who we are in public. Do you understand?"
"Yes." You say softly, but he can see that's not fully true.
"Here, in the Capitol, everything is a social ladder. We cannot marry who we wish, we marry who we should. Rarely ever do kids here date for fun."
"Like Lucy Gray and the silly mistakes she made over and over again with Billy Taupe." You comment, trying to lighten the tension you feel radiating off his body.
"Yes." He chuckles, smiling hopefully at you, relieved that you understood. "But I want nothing more on this earth than for you to be the one I spend my life with. I want to make you happy, but first, in order to do that, you have to be someone that they will accept. And I am so, so sorry I didn't explain this to you sooner, but I want you to know I've never wanted you to change."
"We don't need them to like me to be happy. That will be an endless uphill battle, Coryo." You shake your head slightly, placing your hands over his as they slide down onto your neck.
"It will be uphill but we can do it." He assures you quickly. "You're already well-liked, we're-"
"Were you not happy in Twelve?" You ask, a sad look in your eyes.
He stops, tilting his head slightly at you. He was happy in Twelve, now that he considers it. He hadn't thought about it, he was so focused on hating everything but you that he just assumed it was awful, but really, it wasn't. Not in hindsight."Is that what you want?"
You smile in response. No one had asked in months what you wanted. What you really wanted.
"What do you want, love? I'll pack up and move us back to Twelve tomorrow if that's what you really want." He says again, nothing short of desperation in his tone.
Faced with the option, you're really not sure. Yes, of course, you'd like to go home. It was very tempting. But Coryo was right, this education was important. You imagine for a moment the life you could have back home if you stuck it out a few more years. And maybe by then, you'll be better accepted here. Maybe by then, the Capitol will be a different place, and you'll be truly happy here. With him, and he will have the power to make the games go away.
"No, no." You shake your head. "I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." You say, and he can tell from your change in notation that the words are not your own. It was something new, unlike what he had heard from you before. He smiles. "I want to be with you, first and foremost."
"You'll always be with me. Where you go, I follow." He assures you. "I was happy in Twelve, if only because I had you."
"That should not be enough, though." You insist.
"It has been for you, hasn't it?" He asks, and you nod, biting your tongue.
He grins. "Then I promise, love, that would be more than enough for me."
"O-okay." You agree, suddenly flushed by his stare. Coryo smiles, looking briefly at your lips as you speak. To him, they seemed more tempting now than ever.
He starts to lean in and you move your head back quickly, a worried look crossing your face and you look around. "Coryo, we-"
"I don't care." He says quickly, gently pulling you back to him and pressing his lips to yours. Consequences are the last thing on his mind right now.
You take hold of the front of his delicately pressed shirt, pulling him closer with his hands on your neck. Here, in the middle of the university courtyard with the sun shining down on your back, everything is okay and at least for now, the cold night has given way to a warm, sunny morning.
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okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!
also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)
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aesthetictarlos · 3 days
Note
So you wanted some prompt for something short so here’s a little something :
Buck and Tommy queuing to go to a museum and Buck gushing over their new exhibit and knowing almost everything about it even before they went in and Tommy just listening and absolutely smitten by his boyfriend
Thank you for sending this lovely prompt ✨
"Uh, the line is pretty long," Tommy comments as they take their place in the line for the modern art museum.
"What, you're too old for that?" Buck teases with a shit-eating grin.
"Ha-ha, very funny," Tommy replies, rolling his eyes as he takes a step closer and leans in to talk into his ear, lowering his voice. "I might be too old for a second round tonight," he quips, earning a giggle and a playful slap on his chest from Buck.
"We'll see," Buck smirks. "Do you know that the artist painted her first painting when she was ten years old?"
"Really? Wow, that's impressive!" Tommy comments.
"Yeah, and now she's into modern art but she used to be a pop art artist," Buck explains enthusiastically. "I've checked her website, she's young but really talented."
"Is this her first art exhibition in California?" Tommy asks, and doesn't miss the way Buck's face softens.
"Yeah! She's from New York so she's only exposed her works there. This is the very first time her paintings are exposed in a museum," Buck replies, clearly knowing a lot about the exhibition they're about to visit.
Tommy smiles and nods, and then listens to his boyfriend rambling a bit more about modern art and everything he knows about the museum. It's so nice to just enjoy Buck's ramblings, he knows a lot of things and by the soft look on his face, Tommy knows he's not used to people patiently listening to him and also asking questions. He doesn't do that just to please him, he's really interested in what Buck's saying.
Buck cuts himself off mid-sentence as his phone rings. "Uh, it's Maddie," he says, recognising the ringtone. "I have to take this."
"Yeah, of course," Tommy says, brushing a hand on the small of his back as Buck steps out of the line.
"Your boyfriend knows his stuff, huh?" The elderly woman behind him says. The woman next to her, who must be her daughter, sends him an apologetic look. "My husband was exactly like him, he was an art enthusiast and he knew a lot of things. I've always loved listening to him and seeing you two together– it brought back some memories of the first date I had with him. We went to a museum and the line was so long, just like today."
"That sounds like a great first date," Tommy comments, not really knowing what to say.
"It was. We've been married for over forty years," she replies with a rueful smile. "He passed away a few years ago, but I keep visiting museums when I can, it reminds me of him."
"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am," Tommy says.
"I know a great love when I see one. And the way your man was looking at you reminded me of the way James, my husband, looked at me. True love is so rare nowadays," she offers ruefully, and Tommy's heart squeezes in his chest as he nods and thanks her for the nice words.
Buck gets back in line, and Tommy curls an arm around his waist, tugging him closer. "I love you."
"What's that for?" Buck asks, teasingly, leaning in for a soft kiss.
"Just because."
"I love you, too."
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ryuichirou · 2 days
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Replies
I’ll start with some news.
I am currently locked out of my twitter account. We did everything we could to try to get it back, but no matter what happens, it will most likely take some time.
I don’t like bringing attention to this kind of stuff because we have tons of other things to talk about which are more important than some toddlers trying to obliterate us for 1000th time (frankly I would rather talk about the colour of Leona’s butthole), but this time it’s kind of serious and important. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but for now I wanted to say that if we won’t get the account back in time or will lose it indefinitely, we will have to ask for your help. I am sorry for that in advance.
Also, if you were discussing/working on commissions with me via DMs there, please email me or contact me via any other platform as soon as possible. Just in case.
Mass-reporting is wild, eh?
I am rambling a bit, and I didn’t really want to complain, because I know for a fact it would give satisfaction to some people, but you know? I am going to complain: it sucks ass. It happened at the worst time possible and it happened over nothing (literally, the art that got it was a Todd/Wallace non-sexual piece that got too many likes for children’s liking). I don’t care if people don’t like us, I don’t care if they gossip with their girlies about us, all I want is for them to leave us the fuck alone and let us do our thing in peace. Imagine being so unbelievably boring and so incredibly unlikeable and unable to make meaningful connections not only with other people but also with any kind of media that you just have to go out of your way to ruin things for others because this is the only thing that makes your immature brain produce something that even remotely resembles joy. Because your own pathetic self is so deeply insecure and constantly frustrated at yourself that you just have to create an illusion of control over someone else to feel important. I can’t even call it a troll behavior – at least trolls are funny sometimes. This is just someone who hit a midlife crisis at the age of 16 and made it my problem for some reason.  
And yet, it’s okay. Even if we end up losing our account, it’ll be a huge disappointment and it will hurt us tremendously, it already did. And it’s scary to think about this scenario, and it’s difficult to talk about how, if it happens, that it’s going to be okay. But eventually we’ll get over it and build ourselves up again, just like we did before several times. And these clowns will still be boring, unlikeable, lonely and very likely shit at drawing.
So yeah. Take care of yourself and block everyone who seems suspicious on sight. It’s not a panacea, but certainly is helpful.
Alright, time to talk about Leona’s butthole (not really, but we will talk about SebeMal, and it’s even better) 💪
Anonymous asked:
Seeing Vanitas made me curious about something: did you ever read Pandora Hearts? I think for a lot of people that series went hand in hand with Black Butler as the main "victorian aesthetic mangas" from the late '00/early '10. Gothic lolitas really had it all back then..
Ohh you’re so right Anon, it was the ultimate late ‘00/early ’10 aesthetic! Boys in vests with bows/ties, crosses and rosaries and traumatic and problematic backstories lol I really miss it sometimes. What an era.
I personally haven’t read/watched Pandora Hearts, but Katsu did! But it was even before we met… So my only association with this title is that Katsu’s old username was “ozbezariusnya” 🥰 Oh, and that Gilbert (?) looks very cute, but let’s be honest, of course I would think he is cute.
nebula-ryuu asked:
Regarding my question, I mean if the Malleus and Sebek ship has a dynamic or a context 😅😅 a background or a story. I have a certain feeling about what it is like but I don't want to affirm anything hehe
I don't know if I made what I said better understood, in any case I can explain it again, no problem 🙏
Oh! Thank you for clarifying!
As for our background for shipping them, we just really really love loyal characters that are a bit unhinged about their loyalty and love/obsession. So we didn’t even have a choice, they stole our hearts… and Malleus is very interesting in his interactions with Sebek too; he is annoyed by him sometimes, but he tolerates a lot and teases him.
As for the ship itself, we tend to think that in addition to Sebek being loyal and obsessive with Malleus, he is also deeply in love with him ever since he was a child. He is conflicted because he really wants to be his lover, but also thinks that he isn’t worthy. Malleus is amused by Sebek and allows him to do much more than he probably should. Actually, I think I talked about their dynamic in this post!
I hope I understood you correctly. Thank you for your question! And if you have any more questions, please let me know.
Anonymous asked:
would Lilia and Azul ever fight over who gets to have Idia?
Replied here! Thank you for your question, Anon.
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strwbmei · 17 hours
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Matchup Event
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Matchup for: @dukemira
Matchups: Fu Hua, Firefly, March 7th
Contains: fluff, nsfw, creampie, mentions of bondage, mentions of choking, mentions of temperature play, soft sex, public sex, mentions of nipple play
A/N: Sorry for taking so long! Honestly, with Firefly's section, I have no idea how to bake so I apologize if anything is incorrect!
Ask: Long time no see I guess? Haha, anyway it's been a while and you look good, also congratulations for your 1000 followers! Okay I'll start. I will use Mira as the name, my mbti is INFJ, and my zodiac is Virgo. I'm a listener type person, I'm not speaking that much, unless the topic is interesting (or I like the topic) for me, I'll ramble so much. Many people see me as a stoic person, like I don't really care what happened later, or right now Even if it gets me in trouble. You could say I'm a hardworking person, I'll try everything to achieve what I want. If you don't mind, I would like to choose both. My first date scenario? Maybe we watch stars and aurora while drinking hot coffee and some snack (I like quiet place, irl I always go out at night like pm and go home at 3 in the morning lmao) it's just, so refreshing y'know? I'm indeed a dominant, and more into vanilla sex, soft, gentle. (Sometimes I wanna tie them up, and close their vision) (pls don't match me with male characters) The fandom Im in, honkai impact and honkai star rail.
Fu Hua
╰┈➤ SFW ;
: ̗̀➛ Like you, Fu Hua often takes late-night walks to clear her mind. The day she decided to take a different route for a change of scenery, she had no idea that this choice would end up affecting the rest of her life.
: ̗̀➛ It all starts off as the both of you passing each other on a quiet, isolated street; things like you glancing at the woman the first time you saw her because of how rare it is to see someone else around these hours. The most you'd get were stray animals and the occasional taxis, and you liked it that way.
: ̗̀➛ Your overly carefree attitude towards life and Fu Hua's overly cautious and apprehensive nature perfectly balance each other out like yin and yang. Not one is greater or worse than the other; both are inseparable as are the sorrows and joys of living that you'd gladly experience with each other.
: ̗̀➛ Change is a fearsome thing. All of the insignificant differences come together until eventually, you realize that your surroundings have already changed beyond recognition. Fu Hua firmly believes in this, and yet, it was the same change that brought her to meet you. As such, you're also the one to introduce her to new things. It takes her a bit of coaxing, but she's willing to try anything as long you're with her.
: ̗̀➛ Generally speaking, the two of you have so many similarities and just as many differences. Somehow, though, you make it work. Not because you just happen to be the right person for each other, but because you want to make it right.
"Fu Hua?" Your voice breaks Fu Hua's train of thought. She'd been gazing up at the sky for a while now, reminiscing about the past as she does so. It's not something she particularly chooses to do the first dusk of every new year, but she always ends up doing it nonetheless.
"Ah, you're awake. Did I wake you when I got up from bed?" She turns to you with a somber yet warm smile on her face. Her gaze goes down to the two cups of hot chocolate in your hands and mutters a small "thank you" as she takes one of them. You shake your head in response to her question. "Mm. I just got a bit worried when I woke up and you weren't beside me."
"What are you thinking about?" You ask before taking a quick sip of your drink. The dark and rich taste is perfect for calm, quiet mornings like this. Last night was filled with celebrations and festivities, and now that they're done, the city has fallen asleep. The sun peeks out through the horizon to greet the start of the new year.
"It's nothing important. It always amazes me how quickly time can pass and bring change." Her gaze falls down onto the jewelry shop at the corner of the road. It used to be a small diner run by a nice elderly couple. They had a dog; a small Australian terrier named Winter. Ironically enough, Winter did not like the cold. She wonders where they are now and how they're doing.
The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the sunlight illuminating the unlit city. Fu Hua smiles at the sound of the dogs barking; it's the one thing that has stayed constant throughout all these years. She hopes spending mornings with you like this will become one of those things as well. "Happy New Year, my love."
╰┈➤ NSFW ;
: ̗̀➛ Very vanilla and traditional so Fu Hua thinks she should always be submissive, at least at first. She's open to trying out new things in bed. We all know that she'd be submissive regardless of her old fashioned mindset, though.
: ̗̀➛ Fu Hua is open-minded when it comes to kinks, so she's willing to try anything at least once as long as it isn't anything too extreme or unhygienic.
: ̗̀➛ She's really big on safe sex. Fu Hua is actually very educated on sex despite having little to no personal experience with it/things related to it, mostly because she's had to give her disciples "the talk" before.
: ̗̀➛ During sex is when Fu Hua is the most emotionally vulnerable. She accidentally slips out words that she'd be way too prideful to say in any other situation, says "I love you" a lot more than usual, and reaches out to hold your hands subconsciously.
: ̗̀➛ She can go for a lot of rounds, but afterwards, she's immediately falling asleep. She'll try to give you the best aftercare she can (even if you were the one on top,) with the energy she has left, but the most she can probably do is get you a glass of water and a towel.
"My love..." She sighs, desperate and needy. Her legs rest at either of your sides as your hips rut slowly and softly against hers. Slender, calloused hands rest on your back, clawing ever so slightly whenever you hit a certain spot inside of her.
The room is dimly lit with scented candles, your clothes scattered on the floor while sensual music plays in the background. A scene telling of the romance and passion between two lovers.
You adjust yourself to hit deeper inside of her, and Fu Hua sings. She sings your name like an angel gently comforting you with her embrace; soft, and loving.
Feeling yourself nearing climax, you groan her name and bury your face into the side of her pale neck. As if in unspoken understanding, her fingers reach out to intertwine with yours, and her legs wrap around your waist.
Your hips stutter, and you fill her deep with your cum. Her chest rises up and down as she catches her breath, and she looks ethereal. You're set on spending the rest of your life with her.
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March 7th
╰┈➤ SFW ;
: ̗̀➛ You and March 7th are the epitome of the saying "opposites attract." Or so, people say. While that might seem true on the surface, you actually have a lot of similarities like two stars in different galaxies, shining with unique brilliance yet connected by the vastness of the universe.
: ̗̀➛ For example, the two of you like quiet places; only for different reasons. You like quiet places because you like being able to be at peace and be alone with your thoughts. March likes quiet places because she can often find you in them. She loves bustling atmospheres and the blinding city lights, but she loves you more.
: ̗̀➛ Her troubles affect her more than they seem to, and when she can't silence the negative thoughts in her head, it's you that she comes to for respite.
: ̗̀➛ There's something about you that makes March feel so... safe and secure. She feels comfortable telling you about things that she'd normally repress herself. You keep her grounded. You help her get through the bad times and replace them with good ones.
: ̗̀➛ You care for her and try to comfort her the best you can, but you don't really care about things like "who she used to be" and "what she even is." Human, alien, or even as an emanator, you'd love her all the same. What matters to you isn't her past, but the future that you can have together.
"Hehe..." March looks up at the new ring you bought for her. The cold, silver metal shines when the moonlight hits it just the right way. To her, its glint symbolizes your love and the future to come. "Do you really like the ring that much?" You ask since she's been staring at it intently ever since you first got it for her. Of course, you're flattered since you also chose it, but you know March can be a bit overdramatic sometimes.
March turns to you as soon as the question leaves your lips. "Of course! You bought it for me, after all." She smiles with pride. You chuckle at her reaction and pat her head. "I'm glad you like it, but don't dote on it too much. I can always buy you a new one, y'know?" You weren't exactly rich, but that ring wasn't exactly expensive either. It was just something you bought because it seemed to be her style.
"Sure, but every gift from you is special to me. Even if you get me an extravagant wedding ring one day, I'll still treasure all of the handwritten notes you leave me sometimes." You blush at the implications of marriage. Of course it's been on your mind too, but to hear March mention it so casually has you feeling a bit bashful.
"When that time comes, let's get a big house and a whole army of pets! Ah, but that might make it difficult for the express... What about 5? Or if Pompom allows us, 10?" You chuckle at her ambition. You can already imagine Pompom going crazy with cleaning all of the fur. Still, a future like that with her sounds quite nice.
"We'll get as many as you want, March."
╰┈➤ NSFW ;
: ̗̀➛ She's not a stranger to the concept of sex, but there are a lot of things that she doesn't know about it. Despite that, or maybe because of that, she's always wanted to try.
: ̗̀➛ March 7th mostly bottoms--she counts on you to take the lead since you're more knowledgeable. She can definitely be the dominant one if asked, though. Top or bottom, her main goal is for both of you to feel good.
: ̗̀➛ Getting tied up and wearing nice lingerie are her favorite things! The intricate designs make March feel prettier, so she sometimes wears them underneath her clothes just for that confidence boost.
: ̗̀➛ She's up for it anytime anywhere mostly, but she's a bit hesitant to have sex in busier places. She likes it when there's a chance of someone spotting the two of you in the act, but she doesn't want to actually get caught. That would scar her for life.
: ̗̀➛ Loves it when you get more assertive. She loves how gentle and caring you are with her, so seeing a side of you that's so different gives her whiplash in the best ways possible.
: ̗̀➛ Her nipples are the most sensitive part of her body. She could have an orgasm just from you playing with them. A close second is her neck, though. Whether you leave kisses all over it or choke it ever so slightly, you're sure to get her gushing in her panties.
"I swear to Akivili, I'm going to kill you once all this is over!" March whisper shouts, turning to face you with an angry red all over her cheeks. Whether it's from embarrassment or arousal you're not sure.
The Astral Express had been invited to a fancy dinner, and as a result, you're spending the night mingling with the other guests; mostly the bigwigs of the planet you had just arrived on.
Or so, that's how March expected the evening would go. Now she's sat on your lap, legs spread as she gets fingered by you under the table. To others, you'd merely look like a young, naive couple in love, unaware of how her cunt drips slick and clamps down on your fingers.
Everyone turns their heads towards both of you when March whimpers in the middle of her sentence. She's quick to dismiss their concerns, and you chuckle at their cluelessness, saying March is just feeling a bit nervous.
You hold her gently by her chin and press a seemingly chaste kiss on her lips, swallowing her moans as she cums all over your hand. The rest of them are left none the wiser to the filthy acts the two of you are committing behind the scenes.
March hates how good you can make her feel.
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Firefly
╰┈➤ SFW ;
: ̗̀➛ Your relationship is one full of secrets, but neither of you really mind. You understand that everyone has things that they wouldn't want anyone else to know, and that being their partner doesn't make you an exception.
: ̗̀➛ She doesn't question you when you come home at ungodly hours of the day. You don't question her when she comes home smelling like smoke and motor oil. You rush into each other's embrace regardless of the day you had beforehand. It gives you comfort and warmth and makes you feel like nothing else matters other than being in your lover's arms and the steady beating of their heart.
: ̗̀➛ Her favorite activity to do with you is baking! Neither of you is particularly skilled at it, but she finds the experience therapeutic and wants to share it with you. Firefly also has fun experimenting with the recipe to see what works the best.
: ̗̀➛ Firefly is a very kind and gentle partner, but only when she's awake. When the two of you are in bed together, (which is very rare considering how different your schedules are,) she becomes a heartless monster who hogs literally all of the blankets and pillows. Yes, blankets with an s. You've tried to solve this problem by getting your own, but to no avail.
: ̗̀➛ Honestly, it'd be pretty easy to take the blankets away from Firefly since she isn't very physically strong, but you can't. She just looks so peaceful asleep like this (despite leaving you vulnerable to the cold) and you know that she's tired. Hell, it's probably been a week or two since she's slept this well. You just don't have the heart.
"See, all you have to do is place the icing into the bag and..." Firefly rambles on about the techniques she uses when decorating pastries, even going as far as to give you a live example on the cake rolls the two of you were currently baking.
You cherish every second of these comfortable, domestic moments with her given how rare it is for the two of you to have the whole day to spend with each other like this.
However, there is one problem.
Earlier, you noticed that she accidentally put salt instead of sugar when making the batter. Should you tell her, or let her taste the consequences of her actions?
As you're faced with this life-threatening dilemma, Firefly looks up at you with a concerned expression and asks, "Are you okay, Mira...? We can always do this another time if you want."
For a moment, you almost take pity on her. Thinking of all the nights she took all the blankets and pillows (albeit unconsciously) and left you without protection against the cold, you make your decision. This blanket hogger must be brought to justice.
╰┈➤ NSFW ;
: ̗̀➛ It's good that you're more into soft sex because that's quite literally all that Firefly can handle. Seriously. Don't go rough on her unless you want her to get sent to the hospital.
: ̗̀➛ She can get a bit insecure about this and think that you deserve someone that you won't have to restrain yourself for during sex, but you reassure her that isn't the case and that intimacy isn't the most important part of your relationship with her.
: ̗̀➛ Due to how frail she is, it takes a lot of trust for her to engage in intimacy with someone. Chances are, you're probably her first time. She trusts you to not only make her feel good, but she also trusts that you'll be gentle and respect her boundaries.
: ̗̀➛ She's more on the vanilla side, but being physically weak doesn't stop her from having a few kinks of her own. For the most part, she'd be into getting blindfolded and temperature play.
: ̗̀➛ Whether Firefly is on top or not, she's way too gentle to ever hurt you, even accidentally. She's definitely the type to ask for consent/ask if you're feeling good every 5 minutes, regardless of how horny and desperate she might be.
When Firefly walked through the door with a sense of restlessness in her footsteps, rushing to take off her coat and straddle your hips as you sat on the couch, you already knew what she wanted.
Every time she's away at work (if you can even call it that) for a long time, she comes back all tense and desperate to please you. It's her favorite way to destress, she says. Still, you can never get used to your sweet and gentle Firefly being so... lustful.
Of course, you don't mind and you'd gladly help her take her mind off work, but the contrast in her behavior never fails to catch you off guard.
She buries her face into your neck, breathing heavily as her hands fumble for the waistband of your pants. "Pants, please?" You snap out of your inner monologue and help her.
Once she looks up at you, you can't help but notice the glint in her eyes. It's... different, and hungry. You can't help but be glad that you don't have to wake up early the next morning.
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Text
rain and mint tea and rambles
Hi maggots. It's me, thinking thoughts, again. I do that far too often.
Monsoon has begun, I do believe. The stupefying heat wave broke to let water crash onto the soil, out of which puffs the scent of petrichor. Ever so often the heat builds in the day, but yields to a thunderstorm come nightfall. Perhaps it'll only last a few weeks, but I'm so glad anyway.
I made a mug of mint tea. By which I mean I dropped a teabag into hot water, in one of the five mugs Lina bought me. I was so delighted last night when the heat slowly revealed the images of a whale emoji, a photo of me edited with Crowley's eyes, and fanart of me that said happy birthday, maggot prince with the Spotify code of a playlist you all added songs to. It's been days since my birthday, but I still keep finding bits of love that you sent my way.
I love the playlist. It's as chaotic as we are. There's Cavetown and ABBA and Queen, Bollywood dance music and sad songs and rap, Taylor Swift and a Rickroll and silly songs and Disney soundtracks.
Everything looks different in the rain. The leaves lose their dusty shroud, glittering emerald and lime and quivering in the damp breeze. The light is quieter, softer, grey. It smells of life. The sky swirls with clouds like Van Gogh tried to make art but ran out of paint, with only the greyish paintwater left.
I'm sorry about all the DMs and asks I haven't replied to yet. I swear it's not because I care. It's because I care too much, I care so much that sometimes it overwhelms me. Please don't stop sending me asks because of that, though. I promise I do read them, even if it takes a while for me to reply. You aren't bothering me. You could never. I love you too much. Be as crazy as you like. It's me.
Weirdly enough, as I wrote that paragraph, Nothing New by Phoebe Bridgers and Taylor Swift played. "Are we only biding time 'til I lose your attention? And someone else lights up the room? People love an ingenue." "How do I go from growing up to breaking down? And I wake up in the middle of the night, it's like I can feel time moving. How can a person know everything at 18, and nothing at 22? Will you still want me, when I'm nothing new?"
It's difficult to believe I'm 20 now. That shouldn't be allowed. It's such a weird age, isn't it, 20? It's so, so young, it's so new, it's so terrifyingly timid.
I swear I knew more at 14 than I do now. I swear so many of you know so much more than I do. I don't know anything at all, most days. I don't know who I am. But you do. Thank you for bringing out not the best of me, not the worst of me, but the realest of me.
I love you. I got into art school, by the way. Life is not going the way I expected it to. And the horrors persist, trapping me in my dreams, suffocating me the way a pillow never could. But then I wake up and I think about you, and that keeps me going.
Look at you, saving a guy, every single day. How insanely wonderful.
The rain has stilled. My brother will be pleased, he bought a ticket to go to a cricket match. I think I'll go for a drive with my mum and Roxie. She loves drives. She knows them as 'car byebyes'. She sits on my lap in the front seat and looks out the window, nose sniffing and getting excited whenever I say look, a bow-wow and a dog passes.
I'll scoot now. If this long letter landed up on your dash and messed it up, I really do apologise, I try not to tag these. If you read it this far, then wow, hi. I love you. If you skipped to the end, I love you. If you don't read this, I love you. I love you all, so much.
I hope you have the loveliest of days.
I'll see you soon, maggots of mine.
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peanutpinet · 20 hours
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Hello!! I have been a fan of all your work and your writing is so captivating!! 🥰 May I request for you to write another mafia one, but this time Jisung x fem reader who is younger than him by a year/same age and she is also part of the mafia? Maybe something happens when they are on the field or a particular mission together and something transpires. A bit of angst but also more fluff please!! Thank you so much 🩵🩵
Memories Together - Mafia! Jisung x Recruit! Fem Reader
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Warnings: brief mention of human trafficking, kidnapping, overall a more fluff/laid-back mafia fic (coming from me)
A/N: hello anon!! How are you? I'm so sorry it took me so damn long to create your request and hello to my tumblr peeps, I am alive. I'm so sorry for not updating for so long. Trust me, I want to write but life really took a toll on me and I'm not mentally feeling okay but I'm trying my best. I AM FINALLY GOING TO SEE NCT DREAM THIS SATURDAY. AFTER FAILING SO MANY TIMES, I FINALLY AM GOING TO SEE THEM.
OKAY ENOUGH RAMBLING. ONTO THE FIC!!
NCT HQ - 1:27 pm (3rd POV)
“Wait, you’re actually going to let everyone have not only a whole day but the whole weekend off instead of switching shifts?” Doyoung asked in the meeting room where all of the NCT members were in
“Tell me who on earth in this room has had a proper holiday since we first basically became a well-known established brand both as a mafia and in daily life” Taeyong asked and no one in the room raised their hand at all
“You see what I mean. No one is going to die when we all; and I mean this whole entire HQ go on a break for the whole weekend from this Friday” Taeyong argued. “Even if there’s something, I would know about it and broadcast it to the rest of you first”
“I mean, unless all of you don’t want a break then….”
Taeyong didn’t even finish his sentence before everyone broke off and complained, some bullying Doyoung because he’s one of the only members who worries about what would happen if the whole NCT HQ would go on a few day of break.
Johnny and Haechan even complained about how they were already planning to spend the whole weekend with their girlfriends and even go on a double date. “Look Hyung, we know that you are worried but some of us have girlfriends whom we are so lucky that are patient with us and we really want to take them out, right Johnny-hyung?” Haechan teased Doyoung while Johnny agreed with him
“Really? You guys are teasing me at this kind of time?!” Doyoung complained and he was about to go on another debate with Haechan and Johnny until Taeyong stopped them first
“Enough!!” Taeyong announced, banging his head on the table, grabbing all of his members’ attention. “Everyone is going to have this weekend starting from Friday off. Should anything happen. I will personally contact you all myself. Do I make myself clear?”
Everyone in the whole room nodded without uttering anything.
“Good. You’re all dismissed. Just finished up whatever deadline you all have for the week. As for your personal deadlines, they’re your own responsibility. You’re all dismissed then” Taeyong announced and everyone stood up then bowed before leaving the meeting room.
“Jisung, what are you going to do during your break?” Shotaro asked as he and Sungchan were heading out side by side with Jisung
“Nothing much. I was going to ask Chenle if he wanted to go to the amusement park that just opened but Renjun-hyung mentioned that he and Chenle were going back to China to visit their family”
Jisung, Shotaro and Sungchan were talking together, about to head back to their dorm when someone bumped into them and several papers were flying on the ground. Immediately, Jisung turned to apologise and was about to help the person when he saw someone who he hadn’t seen in a while.
“(y/n)…” Jisung whispered, looking at the girl who was his age. The girl that he spent a lot of time with before he was promoted to NCT
“H-hi, Jisung, Sungchan and Shotaro oppa. Sorry for bumping into you” you bowed at the three NCT members and quickly gathered the paper that was scattered. “I’ll be heading out now”
You were about to leave the scene but Jisung’s large hands held you back. “A-aren’t you also going to be on break throughout the weekend?”
You nodded. “We are, actually”
Hearing your answer, the next words to come out of Jisung’s mouth were so sudden that it caught everyone off guard. “Do you want to go and hang out this weekend? There’s a new carnival in town and I was planning to go there with Chenle but he’s heading back to China with Renjun-hyung and…”
Realising what he had just said, Jisung immediately stopped talking and actually thought his words this time. “I mean. It’s been so long since we hung out. I know that I’ve been busy since I was promoted to an NCT member but. Damn. I just wanna know if you want to hang out like we used to? With Shotaro and Sungchan-hyung too?”
You looked over at Shotaro and Sungchan who both gave you a smile which made you remembered of the times the four of you along with Eunji would always sneak away during weekends just to hang out together.
You were just about to answer Jisung but Doyoung called out to the three young members first. “Jisung, Shotaro, Sungchan, Taeyong need you guys to go check up on some things in town with the others”
Jisung for once was about to interfere with his hyung’s request until you opened your mouth first. “Looks like you guys need to finish up some things before the break. I also need to finish some things as well. I’ll see you guys soon”
You gave the three a light smile before bowing at Doyoung and leaving the four NCT members in the hallway.
When the weekend rolled around, you still weren’t sure if Jisung meant what he said and when you didn’t receive a text from him, you thought that you were foolish to think that Jisung, Shotaro, and Sungchan would actually want to meet up with you.
“They’re all part of NCT now, what were you even thinking? Even if they’re on break right now, they’re still an essential part of the group and you’re not really in that picture” you thought to yourself but then you suddenly got a text message from Jisung himself
Jisung: Hey (y/n), I’m so sorry that I have only gotten your number
Jisung: I know it would be better to ask you directly if you changed your number but instead I asked Haechan-hyung to sort of dig up your number
Jisung: I also know that it might be quite late to ask you but if you’re still up to meet up, Shotarto, Sungchan-hyung, and I will come over
Jisung: If not, I’ll bring over your favorite food, sushi with boba
Jisung: Actually, I’ve already bought it and am heading to drop it off
Reading all the text that Jisung spammed just made your heart swell and you immediately texted him back while also getting ready to head out.
You: I’m getting ready, we’re eating the food you brought before leaving. Also, you’re the one that’s paying for the whole day
Immediately, within a few seconds, Jisung spammed your text again which made you giggle knowing how he is when it comes to texting you. How he would text you short messages but immediately one after the other.
Jisung: REALLY?! OKAY
Jisung: you don’t have to wear anything fancy
Jisung: not saying that you don’t look good with fancy clothes
Jisung: but we’re planning to go to the new amusement park
Jisung: also is it alright if Chenle comes with us?
Jisung: well, that was just a statement
Jisung: he’s forcing himself to come with us
Jisung: we’ll be there soon
Jisung: but take your time, don’t worry!
Not long after Jisung texted, he arrived in front of your apartment door and you quickly opened to welcome him and the other 3 NCT members into your small unit.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m sorry that it isn’t as big as your guys’ unit but I’m content with the small space since it’s more manageable this way” you mentioned, letting the four boys in as you headed to your room to grab some things
“Always the minimalist, aren’t you? You barely changed anything in the place” Sungchan stated, looking around
“We got several of your favourite sushi” Shotaro added, placing the bags onto your counter as Jisung headed to your kitchen to grab some utensils
“The three of you looked like you’ve lived here before” Chenle pointed out as you came out of your room wearing a plain beige T-shirt, denim shorts, and puffer jacket with a shoulder bag
You were about to comment on Chenle’s statement but Jisung countered him first. “Because we did. The four of us along with Eunji were all in the same group. (Y/N) and Eunji used to live together whereas the three of us lived right next door to them”
“Ah, so she’s the roommate that you were talking about that one time” Chenle commented which made you wonder what has Jisung talked about with the NCT members
The five of you then ate the food that Jisung brought before heading out to the amusement park just opened. Of course, being the NCT members they were, they managed to get the whole day free pass before anyone else.
The five of you started to do some window shopping, went on a few easy-going rides here and there. By noon, you and Jisung were seperated from the other three and just walked around the amusement park with ice cream in each of your hands.
“Are you having fun?” Jisung asked, looking at you which made you look back at him
“I am. Thank you for inviting me out. I really appreciate it. I thought that you’ve forgotten about me ever since the three of you became part of NCT” you tried to joke but instead, Jisung stopped in his tracks which confused you
“What’s wrong?” you looked at Jisung who had an expression you couldn’t quite guess until he actually talked. “I, I didn’t mean for you to feel that way. I swear. I won’t forget someone like you. Especially when Taeyong-hyung brought the two of us together at the same time”
“Don’t remind me of that day. It was scary but you convinced me and I don’t regret it honestly” you admitted which instantly made Jisung look more cheerful than usual
“Really?! I mean, I’m glad. Trust me, I would never forget about you. Not me, not Sungchan or Shotaro or even Eunji. It’s just that we’ve been busy and I know that’s a lame excuse for not contacting you that much but we promise that we’ll definitely try to make time for you. I’m sure Eunji would also love to hang out but you know, she’s caught up with Taeyong-hyung and….” Jisung rambled on but you grabbed his wrist and just dragged him with you
“Can you shut up and enjoy the moment while we can? It’s not everyday we get to have a day off and for this long at that” you mentioned making Jisung smile and intertwining his fingers with yours which caught you off guard for a moment
“What are you waiting for then? Let’s go!!” Jisung exclaimed and this time he was the one dragging you with him
Amusement Park - 09:02 PM
Right before the amusement park closed, Chenle, Shotaro and Sungchan wanted to go to the escape room attraction but Jisung didn’t want to join because he saw that you were a bit tired but you told him that you were fine and that you just wanted to enjoy the last bits of the day with your teammates.
In the middle of the escape room, you didn’t know what was happening but Chenle told the rest of you to stop in your tracks and that something was off. Chenle then asked Sungchan to help break down one of the walls which confused you but you noticed that the other three men including Jisung followed through with Chenle’s instructions and sure enough it led to another tunnel elsewhere.
Chenle immediately asked Shotaro to contact one of the hyung-line from NCT while he went to investigate. You were worried at first but Jisung reassured you that you would be okay with them. “Trust me, you’re safer with us than going out on your own. I don’t think I’ll be okay with you going out on your own as well”
You looked at Jisung and only now did you realise that while his looks haven’t really changed, he did look and act more mature than usual which made you trust him. “Okay, I trust you”
“Okay young lovebirds, come on. I think that there’s some people in here” Chenle stated, sending shivers down your entire body
Walking into the tunnel itself took some time because it was narrow and there was barely enough space for the five of you to walk side by side. But the five of you knew that you were closer to where you needed to be when you heard muffling sounds.
When you did reach the end of the tunnel into another room where there were several bodies around the room. Some looked to be unconscious whereas others looked distressed. Most of them were young girls that seemed to be around your age.
You saw Chenle and the others help each of the people there made you go around to help them as you heard Shotaro telling Chenle that the hyung members were on their way. “They’re coming so the place will be on lockdown soon”
“Alright. Clearly we all can’t bring this amount of people with us. Some of have to stay and some will go see they hyungs” Chenle mentioned as the others heard him. “(y/n), you and Sungchan stay here. Jisung, Shotaro and I will….”
“I’m staying here with (y/n)” Jisung stated, cutting off Chenle’s words which was a first because the current maknae of NCT almost never cuts his hyungs’ words making Chenle look at him with a stern gaze that you don’t think you’ve seen before
Chenle who now stood in front of Jisung gave of a strong vibe despite being shorter than Jisung. “Let me remind you, Park Jisung. Despite this being our day off, when push comes to shove, you have to stand up. Can’t you see the people around you? Sungchan can stay here because Shotaro and I need you to help us just in case the ones that did this is around”
Walking closer, Chenle decided to whisper his next words to Jisung so no one would hear them. “I know you have feelings for her but there will be times where both of you have to put aside your personal feelings. It’s for the best”
“At least let me make sure that she’s okay with being with Sungchan here” Jisung whispered back as the older member signalled him to be quick
Jisung turned to be in front of you which made you confused for a moment. “Jisung…” you let out but Jisung stopped youf first. “You’re okay with being here with Sungchan to look out for….”
You didn’t let Jisung finish his sentence. “Jisung, I know. We’re both part of the mafia. But more so to help our people. Go Jisung. I can fight for myself. Sungchan is here too”
Smiling at your words, Jisung promised that he’ll be back soon. “Take care. Sungchan, take care of her and the others”
“Park Jisung!” you called out for him before he completely left. “Don’t go against your older members!” Jisung chuckled at your reminder and waved at you
After Jisung, Chenle and Shotaro left. You and Sungchan decided to untie all the others’ restraints. Noting to yourself the treatments that are needed for the majority of the people here. You were helping one of the young girls when they gripped your hand, pulling you downwards to them. “Leave while you still can”
Caught off guard, you decided to question the girl. “What are you talking about?”
“Take your friend and leave. They’ll come for you and when they get you. They’ll…”
“They’ll what?” you asked and before they could answer, you heard something metal was thrown to the ground and Sungchan tried to grab you and make a run for it but the smoke spread out and both you and Sungchan noticed that the smoke smelt differently from usual.
“Poison” you thought to yourself, trying to not inhale any of the smoke
Both you and Sungchan tried to navigate through the smoke but the smoke itself got thicker and eventually covered both your eyesights.
Jisung’s POV
Once I headed out with Chenle and Shotaro-hyung, I couldn’t help but feel that something was off. Sure it was late and there were barely any other visitors in the amusement park this late at night but it was too quiet when we entered the escape room.
Chenle was on the phone with Mark-hyung when I noticed some people were surrounding and were watching us. Shotaro-hyung must’ve noticed it as well because we looked at each other but none of us were going to say anything. Instead, it was Chenle-hyung who stopped and raised his voice.
“Are you all just going to stare at us or are you waiting for do you want to wait for our entire squad to come?” Chenle stated, turning off his phone when we saw a group of people coming towards us and both Shotaro and I were on guard but Chenle signalled us to relax.
“Care to explain to us what you did to our teammates?” Chenle questioned, making me and Shotaro-hyung look at each other but we still tried our best to remain calm even though I was internally worried about what happened to (y/n).
“Why don’t you explain to your teammates? It seems that they look a bit lost there” the guy at the center stated, the other men surrounding them were laughing
“You’re testing our patience here. I may not look like it but I’m quite a patient man. Either you play nice, tell us what you did, and turn yourself in or we’ll do this the hard way” Chenle calmly threatened, putting his hands in his pockets which to them might seem that he looks chill but to us, we know that whenever Chenle does this, he’s clearly annoyed already
“Brams” the center man let out, making Chenle raise his eyebrow as I realised who they were talking about considering it was a big case in NCT as it involved Johnny-hyung and I immediately figured out what they were going to do
Stepping next to Chenle, I decided to see if my theory was true. “Don’t tell me you plan to continue Brams’ plan of human trafficking”
“Looks like the youngest member isn’t that dense. Plus, the addition of your two team members would be nice considering you NCT took away all those other people. We were so close to being rich and making our own mafia that would be better than any of you” one of their members mentioned
His words made me feel sick as I imagine both Sungchan and (y/n) were being held captive and being tortured or who knows what other things they’re going through. But Chenle somehow took notice of my uneasy self but he took his hand out, signalling me to stop myself from doing something that I might regret later on.
Despite Chenle’s signal and eye contact, I was tempted to move forward and tackle them but when I heard someone’s voice, I refrained myself. Instead, I turned to see if my ears were deceiving me but they weren’t.
It was (y/n), Sungchan, along with Mark, Jaehyun, and Johnny-hyung. Plus several others of NCT’s trusted police force. Within a few minutes, everyone of the opposing group was immediately secured as I rushed to (y/n) who looked like she was going to pass out anytime soon but Mark-hyung held me back for a moment.
“Jisung” Mark-hyung called out to me as I turned to see him. “Hyung…Can we talk later? I, I want to make sure that…”
“I know, Jisung. She and Sungchan inhaled quite a bit of poisonous gas but still managed to get out of that prison” Mark-hyung mentioned making me grow even more worried
“They’re being treated. They’re going to be fine, Jisung. (y/n) is going to be alright. I just want to tell you that I’m proud that you managed to compose yourself and listen to Chenle even though I know that that probably took everything in you to do” Mark-hyung praised me right as Chenle came to us
“I know right? He rarely listens to me” Chenle joked as I smacked him
“I do listen. Sometimes. But Mark-hyung, how did you manage to come here so quickly?” I asked which made him and Chenle chuckle
“It was your girl, (y/n). Why do you think I made you come with me and let her and Sungchan deal with those who were captured?” Chenle mentioned, making my eyes widen
“She’s witty and everyone including Taeyong was impressed by her skills” Mark-hyung added on when Johnny and Jaehyun-hyung came
“So impressed that he’s considering of promoting her. Though, after she’s treated and gotten better” Johnny-hyung mentioned
“Really?!” I asked as my hyungs chuckled at my reaction
“Taeyong will let you know next week. You should go back, check up on (y/n) then have several rest days after today” Jaehyun-hyung mentioned and I looked at Mark-hyung who nodded to let me go
“Thank you!! I’ll see you all soon!!” I exclaimed and rushed to go see (y/n)
NCT HQ - 02:05 AM (Jisung’s POV)
Back at the HQ, both (y/n) and Sungchan were immediately being treated by Kun and Jaemin-hyung. After 2-3 long hours, the treatment was done and I immediately stood up, waiting outside of the room while Jaemin and Kun-hyung came out together.
“They’re going to be fine, Jisung” Jaemin-hyung mentioned
“Our treatment helped them recover faster so they should be awake soon or around later in the morning. Why don’t you go get some rest?” Kun-hyung suggested but I shook my head and insisted to see (y/n)
“I’m okay, hyung. I’ve showered, I’ve rested up a bit. I just want to see how she’s doing” I mentioned
Jaemin and Kun-hyung looked at each other before letting me into the room where (y/n) and Sungchan was. Inside the room, I saw (y/n) laying down and sleeping peacefully whereas Sungchan was in a separate room.
“Don’t take too long and let us know if they wake up or if there is anything that happens” Kun-hyung mentioned as he and Jaemin-hyung left me in the room.
Grabbing a nearby chair, I sat next to (y/n)’s bed and brushed some of her hair out of her face before starting to talk to her. “Hey, you did so well today”
“I’m so sorry that our outing turned out the way it did. I promise that we’ll have more time to hang out. Especially with Taeyong-hyung planning to promote you!!” I exclaimed, chuckling at myself knowing that I was only talking to myself
“Even now when I’m already part of NCT, you still amaze me and somehow you would always be a step ahead of me which I don’t mind at all because as your friend, it makes me so proud” I continued my ramble
“But even so, you made me so worried you know. The day I became part of the NCT member, I was so worried about you and I know that I don’t show it but I promise you I do and still am worried about you. You mean more to me than just a friend but I’ve always been a coward to tell you about it. You should know that Chenle would always tease me about it” I rambled on again but stopped when I heard a muffled sound which I turned to see (y/n) starting to wake up
“G-glad to know the feeling is mutual then” I heard her chuckle as I rushed to help her sit on the bed. “A-are you okay? Do you have a hard time breathing? I’ll go get Jaemin or Kun-hyung…”
I rambled on, about to leave because truth be told that I was nervous and embarrassed to face (y/n) after my little confession but (y/n)’s next words stopped and made me rethink. “You’re going to leave me again like last time?”
Immediately, I stopped to turn and look at (y/n) who looked at me with a tired look. I then went back and sat next to (y/n), taking her smaller hands in mine. “Never. I never left you. I always look out for you even from afar. I was a coward for not being real with my feelings because I don’t know. We’re both still young and I’m worried that it’ll ruin our friendship. I know I should’ve been honest earlier”
“Jisung…I’m joking. I know you always watch over me. I know how you would always try to steal glances whenever we passed by each other. Or even the additional snacks that I suddenly got. I know that they were all from you. I’m grateful and happy that you still try your best to look out for me” (y/n) explained
She knew. She knew all of the little things I did for her. “Me too. We’re good right?” I asked, which made (y/n) chuckled
“Why are you so awkward Jisung? I just mentioned that the feeling is mutual. Unless you’re still unsure of your own…” I cut (y/n) off by denying my unsure feelings. “No. Of course I’m not. Maybe I was in our early training days. But not now”
“I’m glad then. So, let’s not worry so much. You said yourself. We’re still young. Let’s just go make more memories together” (y/n) mentioned, making me smile and bringing her hands and kissing her knuckles. “Definitely. Especially since Taeyong-hyung is planning to promote you”
The two of us just giggled and talked the night away until Jaemin-hyung came and scolded me for keeping (y/n) and practically Sungchan-hyung up. “YA! PARK JISUNG! SAVE YOUR RAMBLING FOR NEXT TIME! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO REST. YOU’RE MAKING A RUCKUS AND EVEN WOKE SUNGCHAN UP”
A/N: next on my nct mafia list is going to be the Mark request (which I have never done a fic of Mark but I will try my best). I hope I'll be able to write a bit more and not leave you guys hanging for so long :') as always, stay safe and be happy xoxo vinet
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Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 98... You have been warned...! 👌
[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]
This chapter literally broke me in more ways than one...
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This chapter is a continuation of Martha and Henderson's backstory from Mission 97, so let's talk about it shall we...?
So when I opened this chapter and saw a radio...:
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...I literally got PTSD from seeing it because it immediately made me think of the first part of Mission 62, Twilight's (or rather [REDACTED]'s) past, so I knew that things were about to take a turn for the worst...! 😔
On the same page, Martha asks Henderson what he's doing here and he tells her that there's a personnel shortage, so he got to graduate early. Then, Henderson turns off the radio and says this:
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This is just... It's so sad, but true that things, like radios, that were once made for helping others can easily be used to spread hatred and cause harm... It's just not right... 😞
Moving on, after being separated for so long, Martha and Henderson were able to have another tea party like they used to have, but it wasn't long before things started to take a turn... During a school safety drill, Martha asks Henderson if he's excused from being drafted, and he tells her...:
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"It may be that even education is powerless now."... 😟
Hearing Henderson say that hurts my soul... But nothing could prepare me for the next few pages...
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Why... Why do things like this have to happen... 😣
No, things like this SHOULDN'T happen...! Innocent people dying because of senseless violence, because of war, it's just not right nor is it fair...! And I will always stand by that...!!
Continuing on, Henderson finds out that Martha is volunteering for The Women's Defense Auxiliary and he's upset by this. She tells him that the ballet company she was a part of is going to disband and her dream will go with it, so he scolds her again and she tells him this:
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My heart hurts just seeing the anguish in face and in her words...!! 💔
And the heart break continues because Martha overhears that Henderson is going to be married off and she is devastated... But while in tears, she overhears that the dance is coming again, so this is her last chance to tell him how she feels...!
At the dance, Martha approaches Henderson:
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Martha looks so cute here...!! 💗 I was so excited to see them dance together, that when I turned the page, something unexpected happened... I started to cry...:
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Seeing them happy, even though just for this moment, it reminded me why I love Spy X Family so much... It's for these moments, the moments that most of S×F's cast is fighting for, the moments that we all should strive for...!! There are just so many bad things going on in the world that it makes wish that moments like these could be the norm for all instead of some...!! I just don't understand why must there be so much hatred and malice in the world... Why can't we all live in peace instead of conflict...
Gosh, I'm even crying now just writing all of that... I should probably start to wrap this up...!
So, just as Martha is about to confess to Henderson, this happens...:
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...and the chapter ends... 💔😭💔
And that was Mission 98; truly such a heartwreching chapter to read, just like Mission 62 was...
I don't even know what else to say except thank you to Endo... Thank you for making this manga, for getting me feel all of these feelings, for giving me the opportunity to share these feelings with everyone that loves this series as much as I do...!! Thank you from the bottom of my heart...!! 💗
And thank you to all of you that reads this post...!! There's a lot of things that I wish that I could do to make the world a better place, but if this post inspires you in anyway, that's good enough for me...!! 💗
Sorry for rambling, but anyway... Until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and thank you for reading...!! 🤗 Later!! 💗
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nipuni · 10 hours
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Hey, Nipuni! First off, I want to say that i love your work sooosoooo much and i can’t even truly describe the impact it’s had on me. You’re an inspiration to me!! No matter what your interest is in i will always be a fan. I was really curious and wanted to ask, i think you’ve talked about it a looong time ago but, how long do you reckon it takes your to do your fully painted illustrations these days?? and how long do you wait before posting it, assuming you aren’t sure if you’re satisfied with it. I’ve just been struggling with overworking my art and feeling like it’s not ever ready to post so i was curious. 😟
Hello!! I'm so late to reply I'm so sorry!! Thank you so much for the kind words!! to hear that my work can have such a positive impact on someone is the greatest compliment truly 😭❤️ and thank you for sticking through all my interest hopping too haha
These days it takes me anywhere from 2 to 9 hours most of the time, non consecutive if I can help it, and I usually sleep on them at least one night before I share them. But I've held on for over a month to some just because I didn't think they looked quite right, so I keep coming back to them every now and then and do some small tweaking until I reluctantly post them either out of frustration or exhaustion haha I don't have the patience or the attention span to work on the same thing for very long to be honest, so I've adapted 😆
The truth I like to remind myself of is that once I share something all my focus shifts to my next idea every time so whether I could have done better or not doesn't matter once it is out of my hands. I can always do better on the next one, there is just the comfort of letting go and a fresh start.
I've struggled with overworking pieces to death a lot too. It stems from anxiety really so it's a matter of building confidence, the point at which art is ready to be shared is arbitrary after all. You can convey a message or idea just as effectively through the roughest of sketches to the most detailed oil painting, the rest of the work is mostly towards aesthetic value.
On the technical side of things, when you grow frustrated with a piece to the point where you start to resent it is a good indicator that you need a different course of action. Sometimes bringing in new references can help you find the issue, sometimes the problem is structural and buried under piles of unnecessary detail and you have to go back and redo or remove something you were reluctant to, and sometimes the best thing you can do is to let go and come back to it with fresh eyes when you have learned more. As for studies, working from big to small, training for speed and on a time limit has helped me. Anyway I think I've started rambling, I hope any of this helps!! Remember that art at any stage is better than no art at all!!
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entropicbias · 1 day
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Last couple asks has me wondering what kind of johndave rep DO you like to read/see? Any examples you can think of in fanworks? And just your own interpretation. Thank you
i have got to reiterate that this is just a me thing. i'm not saying this to police anyone on their writing! i'm just really specific about the way i see these two get portrayed.
this is gonna suck and i'm gonna ramble about it for a while cause i'm mentally challenged. i have a hard time explaining my own thoughts with accuracy. sorry i can't keep this short and sweet. i am the type of person to just know when something is done right. i can't tell you why, but i'll try for you, anon. if you don't want to read all this here, i summarized it.
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even more simplified
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this is so crude. canon dave is really hard to nail for writers for some reason let alone the specific way i see him. i like a more chillaxed dave. some of the things that really throw me off with dave writing is missing the mark on how annoying he is and dumbing his character down to either angst, obama and apple juice jokes, or him being gay. i think john also encounters this issue. not enough research goes into their interests so writers can only represent them with the bare minimum. nicholas cage, con air, and 'dave i'm not a homosexual'. john and dave are assholes. they tease each other and aren't shy of doing that to other people. not that they're bad people! they care about each other and their friends a lot! but they're not afraid of being really honest about their thoughts or overexaggerating something that doesn't really bother them to poke fun at someone. they can make mendacious remarks to be polite, it just doesn't occur to them as often as just blatantly stating their thoughts on something or someone. i also like seeing them have more naturalistic dialogue. for some reason, when i think of that i think of zach from oneyplays or his character charlie from smiling friends. which is dumb even if it gives you an idea. i feel like a lot of this kind of banter is missing from these fanfics i read. at least, in the way i want it to go. think powerup comics.
gay part upcoming. i think the john and dave's relationship is best portrayed as a childhood crush that is unspoken of. a term i recently learned was "demiromantic", and i think that very perfectly describes how i think john's homosexuality would work. i mean, he doesn't really have a problem admiring dudes, which in itself could be called gay but that's not why i think he would be attracted to dave. i think it's kind of hilarious when people attribute john's homosexuality to him being "romantically interested in cage". john's idols are more like heroic figures to him. i don't like it when that is used as evidence that he's gay unless someone is making fun of him. this is the part where i talk about how john insists on the fact that he's straight. i'm not doubting that at all i think john still likes women and it's easier for him to do so. but he can also develop feelings for someone like dave. hence why i think he's demiromantic in that regard. this is exactly what my sexuality is like, so maybe i am projecting. i like to imagine i'm not projecting incorrectly, though. i think he'd only be able to develop feelings for dave in a setting where he is really a prominent figure in his life. earlier acts of homestuck were like this, but unfortunately the johndave relationship wouldn't work out on john's end with the way homestuck went. their friendship was kind of forgotten after a while, which sucks. in an ideal world, they would have remained in contact and then gotten close again in earth c. but dave was written to be with karkat and jade, which either nulls his feelings for john or opens up a whole new avenue of internalizing it. which is dumb and convoluted and i don't care about postcanon.
dave on the other hand would think about his feelings towards john a little more. i like to think that homestuck dave definitely had feelings towards john. i like to imagine they both developed a crush on each other around the same time, but unlike john who doesn't give it the time of day or even considers it as a crush, dave would. and he'd know that but he wouldn't want to act on it because of a plethora of reasons. probably to retain their friendship and his self image. i guess that could give them some 'angst'.
but you know what? i don't even care for romance all that much! they're bros before they're anything else! and that's all that matters to me! just nailing their friendship in itself is gold. john and dave mean a lot to each other in a platonic sense. even if they pursue other romantic avenues or don't, i don't care! i just like people putting them in a similar setting and showcasing their awesome bromance!
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fig. 3, i also like davejade. thinking of iterations of him and john in fanworks that i like is really hard cause i don't read much in that department. what comes to mind is mr. tambourine man and some of deacon_blues's comics. kgtac has a really good dave and karkat too. cole is a spectacular writer. but i've finished neither of those comics so i'm just basing it off the very little i've read. also, none of these examples are particularly johndave related. i just wanted to note down examples of john egbert and dave strider writing i enjoyed. i read like, one comic faygos made but that was also pretty good. pinballhazard is also a phenomenal writer and artist. especially for john! you guys should check all these guys out. anyways, thanks for reading all that!
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calypsolemon · 1 day
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i’m always in awe of your use of texture whenever i see the burning kai art !! it’s seriously so satisfying and beautiful
why thank you! I'm going to take this ask as one for the "analyze your own art" prompt lollll so sorry if you weren't looking for a ramble about the meaning in the piece but also. woe, analysis be upon ye!
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so the caption of the original post of this piece is a line from Astana's Favorite Daughter. Fair warning the music video linked contains nsfw/horror elements, but it's a gorgeous piece of evocative animation set to an even more evocative song. I dont actually think the song itself fits Kai terribly well when taken in whole, but it's what prompted the image to come to my mind in the first place, so it's relevant
I really had fun playing with shapes in this image. Someone pointed out the teardrop shape where his neck and shoulder meet, which i also incorporated into the shadow where his right hand is, as well as the shoulders themselves and some of the negative space between licks of flame.
The shapes focus is also why I drew this in black and white first. I used a gradient map to color it, which is new for me!
The way kai is holding himself has a dual meaning to me. It could imply self-love, like hugging yourself, but it could also imply a sort of fear of vulnerability and hiding of oneself, since his arms are wrapped around his naked chest.
The expression is meant to be a little bedroom-eyes-y lolll, but I kept the actual view the audience gets of his expression limited to the one eye to again have something "hidden."
Pretty much all of this is in service of exploring multiple meanings that I attribute to fire. The idea of something warm and alluring and necessary, that also gets dangerous and destructive when you get too close.
Dwell as long as you wish on the transgenderism of me (transmasc) drawing a (male) character I kin naked staring directly at the camera set to a song with the word "daughter" in it
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readingismyhobby24 · 16 hours
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Hello everyone!!! This is the first fic I've ever posted!! I don't know if it's any good, but I had a lot of fun writing it, and it's inspired by real life events too lol.
I had a large battle with a small jumping spider a few nights ago, and I lost, terribly. It did inspire this, so I hope someone will enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. While also completely freaking out about the real life events... Sorry Wars (and Mask), you get to deal with this now 😁
Also, I wanted to thank @crazylittlejester for listening to all my rambles about the spider fight, along with encouraging me to write this fic. Thanks Jes! You're literally the best!!!
Sorry for any mistakes! This was written by me at like 1 am on Saturday, I believe, so yeah... Enjoy!
(clicks post, throws phone, then runs away screaming)
Along Came a Spider
Word count: 1,100
It had been another long, strenuous day out on the battlefield. Link’s body ached and he was so sore, it was hard for him to even make it back to his tent for the night. He was so completely and utterly exhausted.
Link had never been more ready to go to sleep.
He had finally made it back to his tent and he couldn't help but let out a relieved sigh. He walked in to find both his brothers already inside on their cots. Tune was fast asleep and looked like he had been for a while. Mask on the other hand, was wide awake.
“What took you so long?” the boy asked irritatedly. “Everyone else came back hours ago.”
“I got held up to help with battle strategies.” Linked answered quietly, to not wake their other brother.
“Couldn't they have at least let you sleep some first. What person could come up with battle strategies right after they had literally been fighting in one all day?” Mask asked.
“It’s war, Mask,” Link sighed. “We don't have much choice.”
“Well, get some sleep now. You look like you really need it,” the young boy huffed, and without another word, turned away from his brother and closed his eyes.
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Link huffed to himself with a small laugh.
After he finally finished getting ready for bed, he went over to the lamp to turn it out. As soon as his hand was about to make contact with the knob, a strange movement caught his eye. Looking down, Link gave out a loud gasp at what he saw.
A small, brown spider was standing directly on the lamp, just above the knob, and looked to be making a web. Link was at a standstill. He so wanted to go to bed, but there was a literal spider on the lamp! He certainly wasn't going to touch it, that's for sure. Maybe he could just turn off the lamp and leave it there? It should still be there in the morning if it was making a web. He could have Wind deal with it tomorrow.
With that in mind, Link slowly lowered his hand to the knob. As soon as his finger touched the knob, the spider, without a moments hesitation, jumped at his hand.
Link screamed and quickly ran to the opposite side of the tent. The two boys who were once asleep in their cots, were quickly awoken at the sound. Both Tune and Mask quickly grabbed their swords, thinking their older brother was in danger.
“What is it?!” Shouted Tune as he quickly made it to his brother's side, Mask not far behind.
“THERE’S A SPIDER!!!! And it tried to jump on my hand!” Link yelled, and pointed, with a shaky hand, over at the lamp.
“A spider?” Tune asked confusedly, while Mask screamed at the same time, “A SPIDER?!?!”
Mask quickly jumped behind his oldest brother and yelled “KILL IT!!! KILL IT!!!”
“I'M NOT TOUCHING IT!!!” Link yelled back to the boy that was literally hanging off of him.
“You're the oldest!”
“Oldest doesn't mean bravest, Mask!”
Tune shook his head. “Oh my gosh, guys. It's just a spider. It's not going to hurt anyone.”
“Have you seen those things?!” Link shouted at Tune.
Tune sighed and headed over to the lamp, but upon looking at it, he found nothing. “Uh, Link. There is no spider over here.”
“What do you mean there isn't a spider over there? I saw it with my own eyes. It literally jumped at me!” Linked yelled exasperatedly.
“Well, there isn't one now,” Tune said as he looked around the lamp.
“Yes there is,” Linked detached himself from Mask and ran over to his other brother.
He looked around for the spider at a distance, and was shocked when he didn't see it. “Oh no. Nononononon. I can't believe we lost it!”
“Link, calm down!” Tune tried to reassure his brother.
“Don't tell me to calm down. We lost a spider!” was the young man’s frantic reply.
Mask, who was still standing behind Link, stiffened. “Ummm. Link…”
“What?”
“Look at your arm..” Mask answered worriedly.
“What about my arm?” Link said. He quickly looked down, and then he too, stiffened.
A loud scream ripped through his throat when he saw the spider running down his arm.
“GET IT OF!!! GETITOFFGETITOFF!! HELP!!!” Linked screamed.
Tune quickly grabbed his brother, trying to get him to calm down. At the same time, another figure burst through the tent, large sword at the ready.
“What is happening?” Exclaimed Impa as she ran over to the three boys, all while Link was still screaming.
“There’s a spider on Link!” Mask exclaimed.
Impa quickly rushed over and grabbed Links arm, quickly swatting the spider off. “I thought someone was being assassinated!”
“Uhhhh, yeah. Sorry about that,” Link smiled sheepishly as he took many deep breaths to calm himself.
“After everything you've been through, everything you’ve fought, and seen, you were screaming over a tiny spider?” Impa asked incredulously.
“How does me, doing any of that, have to do with my fear of spiders?” Link asked back defensively.
“Yeah,” Mask agreed. “Spiders are a whole different category of scary. Don't judge him.”
Impa shook her head, and then quickly scooped up the spider that was now on the ground, and left the tent. What no one noticed was how hard she was trying to keep from laughing at the situation. That was definitely not what she was expecting when she had heard all the commotion.
Back at the tent, Link finally got to sit down in his cot. Letting out a big sigh, he flopped down on the cot. Right before he fell asleep, he heard giggling coming from a different side of the tent.
“You know,” Mask said through his giggles. “I'm sure the entire camp heard you screaming over a tiny spider.”
Link groaned. He did not need to think about that. “If I rember correctly, you were also screaming over said tiny spider.”
“Yeah,” Tune agreed. “You guys also almost succeeded in giving Impa a heart attack.”
“Poor Impa,” Mask said. “She doesn't deserve that. Imagine if Impa died because of us and a tiny spider.”
“Well, no one died from any tiny spiders tonight, so we can thank Hylia for that,” Link joked. “Also, what happened in this tent, stays in the tent. Got it?”
“Yes sir!” Tune saluted.
“Goodnight guys,” Link said.
“Goodnight,” Mask replied.
“Don't let the spiders crawl in your bed tonight,” Tune chuckled mischievously.
“TUNE!!! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!?”
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kalmeria · 11 months
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hey kori! how's your cold? are you feeling any better?
soo if you're in the mood to answer... what about 4, 5, 11, 14 and 21 from the enstars asks? sorry for asking so many, but i'm curious, haha ^^'
hello!! i’m feeling better, thank you for asking. still a bit sick but the brain fog is mostly gone at least~
answering these is fun so i might ramble on a bit haha
okay i ended up talking a lot a lot. so much that i’m putting a readmore here lmao
link to the secret codes that enable me to ramble about ensemble stars (aka the ask game)
4. what got you into enstars?
short answer is: wanted to play a new rhythm game!
long answer (i have a whole timeline lmaoo): my first encounter with enstars was watching the first episode of the anime when it came out (summer 2019). but honestly i didn’t enjoy it. the fact that anzu, who is such a central character, felt like a prop the others talked at… it was weird! i get that it’s because of her being the player character so to speak, but it still bothers me, and i find stories where she shows up a lot difficult to read.
fast forward to early 2021 when i followed a person on here who later turned out to be a big enstarrie. through them i was exposed to some wataei edits that made me go “wait this is gay?” but i mostly tuned it out as stuff on my dash i’m not that interested in. one mention of vampires did get my attention, and i ended up reading the tv tropes pages for a bunch of characters? the oddballs, valkyrie, switch, alkaloid. i could not understand what this “war” thing was.
then last autumn i got tired of the power creep in starira, my previous gacha game, and decided to try bandori garupa. found out i really enjoy rhythm games, so then i started playing d4dj and project sekai as well.
and then, around new years i think, i was sick and lying in bed, and ran into some enstars music related videos. notably one that was rating different rhythm games. and then there was a video of a bandori fan playing enstars for the first time that really sold it to me because of the shared point of reference.
i was still fighting my curiosity because enstars fans scared me, and i knew the immense amount of lore could easily suck me in and i didn’t really want that. so i decided to just watch the anime and see what the whole deal is… and then i did binge the whole thing and soon after downloaded the game (there was a minor setback of figuring out how to get an app that isn’t available in my region). i read the main story in like a week in february, and now i’m here!
(btw enstars replaced bandori in my mobile gaming, which i had kind of lost interest in at that time, and had just had the worst gacha luck trying to get a 4* moca card)
tl;dr (which is totally fair): wanted a new rhythm game to play, have heard about enstars and seen people be really into it, watched the anime -> it captured my interest
5. what's your favorite headcanon about the character you produce?
umm well this is not a fun one but it’s kind of an important one to me. i see tatsumi as someone who has dealt with being suicidal in the past, especially during his hiatus after the reimei incident, but before that as well. i think he processed it through his faith and through devoting himself to others, but it is also wrapped up in feelings of guilt about not respecting the value of a human life (his own) properly.
11. do you have a least favorite character?
i don’t really actively dislike any of the idols. the ones i like less than others are the ones i don’t really know well because i haven’t really read their stories. either because they didn’t manage to capture my interest, or in the aois case, i’ve just found that a lot of the ways identity and self comes up in their stories makes me uncomfortable, so i kind of don’t like reading them.
but i love seeing people who love these characters i’m not too focused on talk about them and why they love them. it’s really nice how everyone has their devoted fans!
that said, no one has managed to make me care about the two teachers.
14. what card are you currently saving for?
funny story!!!!!! (it’s not)
i am. saving for getto spectacle tatsumi.
and fs1 kohaku.
which will happen at the same time.
(pained smile) i know there is months to go until then, but in the meantime we’ll have fs mayoi, aira and hiiro, as well as ibara event scout. so i will have to make some decisions. oh and ariadne is right around the corner too….)
21. do you have a favorite story?
well. obbligato might be an obvious answer. and it is very high up there.
but i think in general i prefer the shorter stories? because the pacing of the long ones can be absolutely all over the place!
i quite like princess kaguya and ariadne. they do both have that typical enstars thing of having a central conflict that gets dragged out for quite a while and then very suddenly solved in a previously unforeseeable manner. but i’m giving these a free pass for having that conflict be interesting, as well as the character dynamics they explore.
oh and shoutouts to feather touch! i hadn’t considered it before as a favorite but as i was thinking about this question i realized that it’s a pretty solid story.
and i do just really love reading idol stories! they have a lot of fun casual interactions in them! (jun kohaku hiyori teatime, rinne praying to kanata, the runrun calamity, the ones where tatsumi and koga hang out, hiyori giving idol advice to kohaku, etc!)
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So I remember you saying how you headcanon that wukong despises oranges cause when he was a baby he bit into the skin, didn’t like it and hated it ever since, so i bring you: mk showing wukong orange juice, without telling him that it’s literally made from oranges (cause He thinks he already knew) and wukong actually ends up liking it, and asks him what it’s called
And when mk says that it’s orange juice, he’s shocked, SHOCKED I TELL YOU that they can make what he remembers as the most repulsive thing he’s ever tasted into something sweet. and he suddenly needs to lie down
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only my burnout kept me from making this into an entire comic bFLSK;JFASDF
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