#I REALLY want to make it to all the other locations now
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i am begging
the «reuniting with your ex in the games» BUT it’s Nam-gyu falling for Thanos’ ex😭😭
Nam-gyu x reader
|This was fun to write but I'm not totally sure I did the idea justice
|Also guys when I finish all the requests I DO write for other Squid Game characters especially if they're underrated 🤞
It was easy to want to find a distraction during the games, the pressure of just wanting to survive and leave with a pretty amount of cash being the only thing pushing him forward.
But conventionally that's when he noticed you. It was during the 6-legged race, you had already formed a reliable looking group and were encouraging a frantic looking man. He didn't understand how he had missed you throughout the other games but now his eyes always drew back to you like a magnet.
You weren't even doing anything that special, just talking to that bastard's chic that left him broke. It was your soft look of concern for her that had him falter slightly, he was holding his food as he stared in your direction.
He wanted to talk to you, badly.
As he's biting the inside of his lip, considering whether or not you'll ignore him a familiar cheerful voice comes up from behind. Thanos lazily swinging an arm around his shoulder.
"Whatcha looking at ma boy?" He asked in a playful tone, grinning dopily as he follows Nam-gyu's line of sight, only to land on. You.
His face screws up dramatically as he looks between the stricken look on his friends face and then back to you. Nam-gyu's about to speak up and ask Thanos to hype him up to go talk to you but he's not given a chance when he's suddenly being dragged towards him by both shoulders.
Thanos leans in to whisper, but he's still comically loud. "Nah man, that's my ex, total priss. Trust me you don't want that." But thing is he wanted it, and bad.
He's momentarily speechless as he glances between you and Thanos, torn between his loyalty and this new warm feeling you're giving him. "Yeah...uh huh." He doesn't mean a word of it, you're definitely going to remain on his mind until he can find another way to get to you. He's brought out his thoughts by a clap to his back. "Right idea man." He says nodding his head with a furrowed lip before spinning on his heel to bother someone else, most likely Se-mi.
He couldn't care less what he was on about, your smile was sweet and he felt eager to get your care and attention on him instead. Nodding to himself with a new found resolution as we walked to his bunk to eat his food.
It was honestly unbearable trying to ignore your prescence, he's high off his rockets but he's still looking up at the ceiling stupidly as he tried not to make it obvious he was actually looking at your way and you're only standing in front of him amongst a vast crowd.
Everyone was on their way to the next game, though the colours seemed to blur and blend together he could make out a stage which everyone instinctively stepped on. What kinda game is this supposed to be? His mind is too jumbled to decipher everything like he usually would and he finds himself easily joining in on Thanos' antics.
Blood smeared the doors and floors, the mocking song that blared from above ringing in his ears. All he really had to do was get into a group with the right number, that's all, if he could understand that at least he'd be just fine.
"Two!"
The child like voice sung out and for the last time chaos erupted. His gaze immediately moves to locate Thanos, they had been in every room together so far so he didn't think this time would be any different.
Apparently he judged wrong.
The purple head of hair making some unexplainable noise before grabbing Min-su by the shoulder and skipping off.
What. The hell.
He wanted to kill him, wrap his fingers around his neck and wring him to death, taking his cross as a reward. But now wasn't the time to fantasize. He was quickly growing irritated, cursing under his breath as he looked for anyone he could easily grab.
And that's when his eyes locked with yours.
You look as frantic as he is, and he's genuinely disturbed to realise that all he's thinking about is that you noticed him in this bloody situation. He's stopped in his tracks but you're rapidly advancing towards him, grabbing his arm roughly and tugging him towards a door, not even bothering to give him the chance to accept. He wouldn't have said no way.
When another desperate player tries to grab you to join their room he quickly comes back to reality, swaggerdly pushing the man away from you and rushing to close the door behind the two of you and locking it.
You're panting. Hair falling out your hairband which you briefly grab and retie. Finally your face rises to meet his eye, finally. His back is pressed to the door still, content on watching you do the simple action of tieing your hair back. Noticing your now slightly relieved gaze on him a helplessly boyish grin forms on his face as he swallows shallowly.
"Hey."
"Hi..."
His minds scattered and he's looking for words to say to you but he's cut off by the announcement that it was safe to leave the rooms. Seeing you lean off the wall to leave he steps aside, if he was sober he would've cringed at how you didn't even have to say a word to him to get him to move. He doesn't care right now, pleased to watch your retreating back profile.
His heart stutters slightly when you turn back to look at him with tired yet considerate eyes.
"Think the game is over, you coming?"
He breathes out deeply through his nostrils as he tucks his hair behind his ears as he speeds up to walk beside you. He was doing a terrible job of trying to suppress the smug grin threatening to reveal itself but you didn't seem to notice and if you did you were mostly unbothered. Instead prioritising looking around to see the remaining surviving players.
When your eyes meet with a certain someone. Sensing the shift in your mood he doesn't know why he's surprised to see a still cheerful Thanos leaving a room with Min-su meekly following behind. His mood clearly shifts when he catches sight of you, quickly approaching the two of you, shooting Nam-gyu a judging look.
"You bitch... who woulda thought you'd end up here when you left ya boy when he was at his worst."
"We're not doing this right now, I'm tired man." He scoffs and crosses his arms at your words, rolling his eyes as he rocks from side to side.
"Convenient of you to leave after the fuck up at the competition."
"Well yeah, you managed to find a new hobby I wasn't a fan of."
You spat the words out bitterly, only getting another tsk from Thanos as he tongued his teeth. Nam-gyu could feel himself sobering up and he was able to recognise he was getting to see you up close, how grateful he was. Even if you were scolding his best friend, that scowl on your face making his heart race.
Unexpectedly those pretty eyes turn to look at him questioningly, looking him over carefully.
"You close with him?"
God knew how badly he wanted to say no to have a chance of gaining your favour but an alliance with Thanos had still done him good until now, even when he ditched him. He bit his inner cheek as he looked anywhere but your eyes.
"Yeah..."
"I see."
Thanos honestly felt offended seeing how reluctant Nam-gyu looked to admit he knew him but before he could throw any sort of tantrum he's being ushered away from you and towards the crowd of disheartened people heading for the exit. A small laugh leaves you as you watch the two, stuffing your hands in your pockets as you watched them. That guy, he didn't seem the type to be around someone like your ex, at least from what you saw today.
Everyone's currently catching their breaths and mourning those they lost. Thanos was occupied with rapping random lyrics at Se-mi and Min-su, meaning a great opportunity to potentially sneak off and see you. He wouldn't ask for anymore of those pills, he needed full focus right now, and this time analyse every curve of your face to the t.
Se-mi spares him a mean side glance as she notices him slipping away, only sighing and leaning her cheek on her palm. She couldn't care less for where he was going but she wouldn't lie and say she wasn't slightly surprised to see the man leave his dictator's side without an announcement.
You're sitting on the edge of one of the bunks, mindlessly staring towards the floor, the small group of friends you had made had been illuminated in the last game and it had left your last source of community disjointed and broken.
Your head perks up at the sound of someone clearing their throat, your brows raising slightly when you find it's the guy from before. You smile lightly at him and he swears he's found the meaning of life.
"We were a pretty good duo in that last game huh?"
"Guess you could say that."
"I was uh thinking. I could try and convince Thanos to let you in our group. I know he's-"
"I'm good."
Your blatant rejection stung more than it should, instinctively tucking his hair behind his ears.
"Thanks though, I appreciate the thought."
"Oh, course."
Immediately he forgets about all the ways he could try and convince you. Spacing out at your oddly gentle sounding words that had him strung on each syllable. He's dumbly nodding as he looks up at you with his hands peaking out his tracksuit.
"You're not as bad as him."
You say honestly, you knew of your ex's right hand but he had never particularly stood out to you until now, and at his luck in a generally good light. Tilting your head at him at his silence you sigh and lean back on your hands.
"You shouldn't listen to him too much."
"Right, yeah."
"What's your name by the way, mines [Name]."
He hadn't realised that you didn't know he already knew your name. It took several on the low eavesdropping sessions but it was a prize he proudly acquired himself. Chuckling sarcastically at himself he realised you had also asked him his.
"Nam-gyu. I know Thanos is a dick and all but you can come to me... If you want."
He had an easy going expression on but his heart was racing and he genuinely feared it might stop right in front of you, he's convinced he's pushed this too far already, obviously you'd want nothing to do with him when he's literally best friends with your ex. Yet you chuckle slightly and give a soft nod in return, a knowing smile he felt he'd been waiting ages to be directed at him.
"I'll keep that in mind, Nam-gyu."
Fucking jackpot.
#squid game#squid game x reader#nam gyu#nam-gyu x reader#player 124#nam gyu x reader#player 124 x reader#games
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All my PCs (so far)
Gotta be my last ref sheet typa post for now because i know how annoying this can be... Maybe, plus i wanna expand on their lore more. Feel free to ask abt them, I'd really appreciate it mwuah
info undercut :))
Yumei the Tormented
† Yumei is the first PC i made, she's the most traumatized lol, the other exists because of her.
† Let's start of simple, she has a sweet tooth (obvious as a LI, she gives you sweets all the time.) She's also academically gifted (all her grades are A/A+ minus Math, girly fumbled)
† Her mother taught her how to play both the violin and piano and a song she wrote (said song can be heard playing at Bailey's office sometimes.)
† Yumei started off defiant, but since her physique isn't the very best, she decided that pleasing her assaulter will be best at the cost of her mental well-being, it's always a loosing battle.
† Unique mechanics; Trauma, Hope
† She constantly avoids Harpers therapy session (as she should)
† She works in the cafe as a waitress but was promoted as a chef, it makes her feel uncomfortable but hey she needs money. (She'd only a waitress as a LI though)
† She isn't very popular at school, but not to a Kylar degree. Yumei keeps to herself at school, she shuts herself down when her fellow classmates interact with her, she's pretty yes, but intimidating.
† Whitney loves toying and messing with Yumei on a daily basis, girlie just wants to head to english class unmolested.
† Yumei and Robin are best friends, though their relationship was stronger as kids, no trauma, and there's no need to constantly earn money. Robin relies on Yumei, being his protector and all, and she's paying for most of their payments for Bailey. Despite this, Yumei is very VERY overworked, she loves Robin (platonically) but her situation leaves a bitter taste in her tongue.
† She wants to leave town, that's why she's saving up so many money for her and Robin, but not to an extent that they'll live together, no, she'll give him the money so they could live their lives away from town seperately.
† Yumei liked Kylar before, he's sweet(ish), and always makes sure she's okay, his obsessive behaviors flew past her head, as long as no one gets hurt... This came crumbling down when she got the kidnapped event, which led to her falling (from her Angel TF)
† She avoids Kylar from then on.
† Sydney and Yumei started off as best friends actually, but Sydney ended up liking Yumei but kept it to himself since Yumei likes Kylar first.
† After the Kylar event, Sydney noticed Yumei visiting the church more often than she did and praying on a daily basis and all the time, he joins her. Yumei found Sydney's company safe so she decided to ease up.
† Then they kissed and then lived happily ever after.
† Just kidding, they got promised together though.
† Older, i see Yumei opening her own orphanage.
Kyrie the Machiavellian
† My second PC.
† A lot of people recognizes him but aren't able to understand why, like they've met him before.
† He casts and distances himself away from the town as a defense response.
† As a LI, he doesn't have a designated location where you can meet him, like Kylar in the part, Robin in his room or lemonade stand, etc. He can be anywhere.
† The citizens of DoLtown finds Kyrie intimidating, he doesn't look like he'll beat you up, but it's the way way he carries his demeanor, he looks genuinely unapproachable, some don't even know he exists.
† He smiles all. The. Time, even when the time doesn't count it, but something about it doesn't feel genuine.
† His eyes are also hollow deep black, no light, no life, no colors, nothing. (As a LI, staring at his eyes causes + stress.)
† He isn't really scrambling to leave town, besides, the outside of the town hasn't even been implement yet besides he still has some business to take care of.
Pre-awareness.
† The chart says everything about Whitney and Kyrie lmao
† Robin views Kyrie as a protector and low-key looks up to him, Kyrie on the other hand, he doesn't hate Robin but he doesn't like him either. Thinks Robin can do better at earning money for their shared weekly payment.
† Hates Kylar but genuinely likes seeing how delusional and hysterical Kylar can be.
† Has no strong opinion of Sydney, he's just library boy.
(post-awareness.) go to hell.
Zhao the Enigmatic
† Started off great because of the Vrelcoins Yumei and Kyrie (pre-awareness) gained.
† The "Fuck around and find out" pc
† Unlike the previous two, Zhao is more extroverted. He isn't over the top perse’ he's just more socially capable.
† He has his own lore outside of DoL but I'll talk about that when i want to. In Dolverse though, he's just a model, that's it.
† Has a fixation on games that require strategic thinking like Nim, and Chess, one game that isn't though, is Konpira Fune.
† He's popular, both in school and in the town.
† If manipulation is a stat in game, he'd have it at max and winning every check with Kylar being the victim.
† Aside from Kylar, he doesn't have a strong opinion about anyone at all.
† Views Kyrie and Yumei as his older siblings despite being older than them a few years.
† People don't usually assault him because of his fame but if i were to think about an actual reason (that's impossible to the game) is the fact he has a gun. 💀
† Demon TF, he's 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 like that
† If it isn't obvious enough, his character designs are inspired by Kafka (hsr) and the front man (squid game.)
~~
#Feel free to ask abt them<33#dol#dol pc#yumei the tormented#kyrie the machiavellian#Zhao the Enigmatic#degrees of lewdity pc#kylar the loner#dol kylar#sydney the faithful#dol sydney#sydney the fallen#whitney the bully#dol whitney#dol bailey#degrees of lewdity#dol fanart#i swear this will be my last ref sheet typa posts about my pcs cause ik they can be annoying#Kyrie stop tempering with my post!!!!#Post awareness means post cheats enabled btw#i just made it extra cool#notice how they all dislike Kylar#dol kyrie#dol yumei#dol zhao#pc lore
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I saw you asking for stuff. Could u do a ghost Tommy and ghost hunters sbi with ranboo? safe vore. Tommy is an old soldier ghost. He died protecting is group and the town don't remember his name just his story. feel free to do what u want to it
I took some tiny liberties with this, but this idea has been infecting my brain for days now so i hope you like it!!
tw: soft, safe vore, talk of suicide, character death (duh it’s ghosts)
Ranboo sat in the back of his family’s van, pressing lightly on his stomach as he felt a few marbles come back into his mouth before he swallowed them back down again, as he’d been doing for a few hours at this point. Machinery rattled in the back of the van; different cameras, scanners, and other ghost hunting stuff. Ranboo had been in this game for a few years, when he met his adoptive family Phil and Techno. They met him at his group home and realized he was something special, and something that could definitely help with their less than normal job.
Ranboo grew up lonely. They never knew their birth parents, as they were given up as a baby. So what did lonely kids do? Well, in Ranboo’s case, learn magic! That would surely make them cool! They became good with cards, regurgitation, and slight of hand, cause what else were they supposed to do with their time? They very quickly learned that the others kids didn’t find any of that cool, and they were only pushing potential friends farther away. Eventually, they set their sights on a family, but that didn’t seem to be going well either. Ranboo lost almost all hope of being adopted by the time they were a teenager. Until one day when he met Phil and Techno. Two best friends (they had to make it very clear to the adoption agency that no, they were not gay, Phil had a girlfriend, they just wanted a kid together cause fuck it why not, which in Ranboo’s opinion made perfect sense). These two were weird. Like, really weird. And Ranboo loved them immediately.
They were professional ghost hunters (which almost made the adoption agency kick them out, they had to call Phil’s girlfriend Kristin to verify that she had a stable job and was supplying Phil and Techno with enough money to properly take care of a child) and were looking for another member of their troupe. Ranboo believed in ghosts wholeheartedly, and was ecstatic when they showed genuine interest in his magic tricks (which included the marbles, to his surprise). When Ranboo turned 16 he was officially legally adopted, and it was the best birthday present he ever could have received. From that point on, the three of them were a ghost hunting team (Kristin still had a “real job” cause they needed money), and quickly learned that Ranboo was a pretty damn powerful medium. He could sense and communicate with the dead through their machines far easier than either of his dads, and had helped them find plenty of haunted locations in the past.
The place they were headed was a memorial to an old war, some place that Ranboo had a feeling was incredibly haunted. Now, museums were normally at least a little haunted, but almost never haunted enough to make him feel ill. But this memorial, whatever is was, was unwieldy upsetting to him.
“You doin’ alright back there, kid?” Techno asked from the drivers seat, and Ranboo swallowed down his marbles again to answer. “Yeah, just, uh, a bit nervous. Something feels…off about this place.” “As you’ve said,” Phil chuckled. “Whatever’s here has to be mega haunted.” He said, fiddling with his camera. Oh, right, they were youtubers too, Ranboo almost forgot that part. They had a somewhat popular channel and Ranboo was incredibly grateful that his parents were very considerate with what he wanted to put online. Right now, Phil was just trying to make sure their main handheld worked. “Yeah, something’s here. I’m sure.” Ranboo adds. This was about to be one hell of a trip.
~~~
It’s midday when they arrive at the museum of the town of L’Manberg, somewhere none of them had ever even heard of. They meet a nice man who Phil had called over the phone to do a tour with. He introduces himself as Mr. Manifold, or just Jack, and leads them around the museum. Apparently, this small town had a lot of war time history, and Jack knew loads of it, since apparently he’d had an ancestor who fought, which was pretty cool. Ranboo tried desperately to feel for anything specific attached to the man, especially if he had a great great grandfather who died in these parts, but nothing. No ghosts. Ranboo still felt wrong, but he couldn’t find why. Nowhere they went had any sort of supernatural readings, no matter how cool it all was. With every nervous glance Phil and Techno gave to Ranboo, he felt worse and worse that he could have led them somewhere useless.
Until that one room.
Apparently, the museum was built over a specific relic of the war. Jack started leading them down an old stone staircase, into a place he said was called “the final control room.” There were old half decayed wooden chests lining the walls, moss infested stone bricks, and a single wooden button in the center of it all.
As soon as Ranboo entered the room, they collapsed.
They had never had panic seize them like this in their entire life. Something in the room, something about it, was wrong. So, so wrong. Something had happened in there, something that hurt a lot of people. Something that time couldn’t let go, that had lingered in that room and hit him like a freight train over a hundred years later. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see through his own tears, and could only barely feel Techno lift him and run him back out of the room.
“Something bad happened in there.” Ranboo muttered as soon as he was able to. Phil and Techno looked to Jack, who explained that that was the very room where the infamous L’Manburg traitor tried to kill the original founders. He apologized for taking Ranboo in, but they insisted they were fine to continue the tour. So, Jack did. Eventually when he finished (with no more incidents, thank god), Phil thanked him profusely for his expertise, and Jack wished them all well and invited them to explore on their own a bit to stop and read.
“Im so sorry, i swear to god I felt something, i still do, there has to be something here, there has to-“ Ranboo started apologizing as soon as Jack was out of hearing range, only for Techno to cut him off. “It’s ok, Ranboo, it’s ok. Maybe you’re just off your game, it happens to everyone, we’re not mad at you. You figured out what was wrong with that room, maybe that was all it was. And hey, we get to look around this cool museum!” Ranboo looked and saw the genuine excitement in Techno and Phil’s eyes and chuckled, ignoring the feeling that the control room was definitely not what he was looking for, no matter how upsetting it was. His parents were both huge history buffs, and he bet that they loved being here and just learning more than even finding actual ghosts.
“Ok, yeah, I- I’m just gonna go sit outside, if that’s alright. I feel like i’m suffocating in here. You guys keep exploring and call me later, we’ll meet back up then.” “If that’s what you want to do, mate. Keep in touch.” Phil tussled Ranboo’s hair, and him and Techno left to put their paranormal equipment back in the car, leaving Ranboo to find their way outside through a back door. He stepped out and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He felt better…for all of two seconds.
Then he opened his eyes and panic hit him again.
The outside area to the museum was a historical town, a place that held some of the exact homes that L’manberg citizens lived in over a century ago, and with those homes was a horrible sight that almost made Ranboo pass out from sheer panic for the second time that day.
A tower. Massive and made of cobblestone, it grew to lengths almost higher than Ranboo could physically see. It was old, moss covered, and slightly crumbling, as old stone is, but still sturdy. The control room was nothing compared to this thing.
Ranboo managed to keep himself from throwing up as he made his way closer to the tower and read its plaque: “Tower of the Child Soldier.” Ranboo pulled some of the marbles up to his mouth and started chewing on the glass, a nervous tic that Kristin warned would break his teeth one day, but for now her warning was the farthest thing from his mind. He read on.
“This tower was built by an original citizen of L’manberg who couldn’t take the war efforts, ending their own life by jumping off this very tower. Letters and documents from other soldiers around this time indicate the victim of this tragedy was a child. This stone is a testimony to the cruelty of war, and just how many innocent people were lost not just to the battle, but to the wars they were fighting with themselves. Rest in peace, Child Soldier, your memory has lasted far beyond your years. To learn more, visit the memorial of the Forgotten Soldiers.”
Ranboo didn’t know when they started crying. This was horrible, so so horrible. But, for the first time, they felt like they found part of what they were here for. He rushed back in the museum and found Jack shockingly quickly, asking about the memorial to the forgotten soldiers. Jack explained that while the stories of many remembered veterans’ stories were told in the museum itself, there was another memorial to the soldiers whose names and faces had been erased over time.
The memorial Jack led them too was, admittedly, beautiful. It was outdoors, marble archways and columns aligned in a circle with display cases with belongings. Some of the things were all together and labeled that it’s likely they all belonged to the same person, though historians were unsure who those people were. Some display cases just held random objects. Finally, there was a small room with a door and a staircase. Jack said that it led to the room where the rest of the memorabilia that belonged to the child soldier was. So, Ranboo thanked him and went down.
The hallway at the bottom was narrow, the walls were glass cases lit up and filled with remnants from this poor kid. Diary entries, songs and poems, hand knitted scarves and jackets, and mementos that were presumably gifts from their friends. There were even letters from people who knew them, ranging from talking about how irritating they were as the youngest soldier at just 16, some talking about how they’d never met someone so loyal and it was a shame they were fighting in such a huge war so young.
Ranboo had never felt quite like this in his entire life. He honestly couldn’t help the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He felt utterly sick to his stomach, pain stabbing him through the gut at the sheer grief he felt. The feelings weren’t his, something was pushing this onto him. This was what he set out to find; this poor child, only a little bit younger than he was now, losing his life to suicide in this war. “I’m not sure if it’s you that’s here,” Ranboo started quietly, “but…but I’m here to talk to you. To learn your story. I’m a medium, I just want answers.” Nothing. Ranboo continued. “I’ve never had a place make me feel like this. I knew something happened here the moment I heard of this town, and I needed to see. I learned about the war, I learned about the rebellion and the betrayal and-“ at that, a draft blew through the room, dropping the temperature drastically. Ranboo was sure he closed the door behind him, and even if he hadn’t, it wasn’t this cold outside.
“I know, I know that must have been horrible, I can’t imagine, I went in that room and just the sight of the stone and chests sent me into a panic attack. I can’t imagine what it would have been like in person.” It felt like a rock was sinking in his gut the more he talked about the control room, so Ranboo shifted gears. “I’m so sorry. I’m about as old as you were, I can’t imagine. You didn’t deserve it, you didn’t deserve any of it. And you don’t deserve to be stuck here alone. This place may have forgotten you, but I don’t want to. I’m here. I want to be here, if you’ll let me be.” Ranboo could barely finish speaking before he fell to the ground, his forehead pressed into his knees as he began to sob. He knew these feelings weren’t his, he knew it, but he also couldn’t reason through the blind grief and sorrow he was feeling enough to care.
With no warning, the lights in the display cases at the walls went out, leaving a single illuminated case right in front of him, the center of it all: a uniform. White and blue with accents of red. Tattered, torn, with small patches and embroidery on it. And at the foot of the case, a little ghost stood. Barely 5 inches tall, standing just on the other side of the glass. Ranboo was…well shocked, to say the least. He’s been able to feel ghosts, sure, but he’s never seen one. Half of him didn’t think they could even have a visible form until right now.
The child soldier was a boy, somewhat translucent and shaded blue, with dirt filled hair, sunken almost glowing blues eyes, and a torn up mismatched outfit of whatever he must have been wearing when he died. He stared up at Ranboo, who he’d let stop sobbing, tense and full of distrust. But as Ranboo looked at him, he found himself tearing up again all on his own. “You look…exhausted.” The little ghosts eyes went wide, shoulders dropping as he began to cry again. Ranboo laid a hand in front of the glass, and was shocked when the ghost stepped through onto it. They pulled him up to their chest, feeling the cold and only half corporeal being press into them and cry as Ranboo swiped a finger up and down his back.
“It’s been so long,” the ghost muttered eventually. “Even when I was alive, I…” He trailed off, and Ranboo didn’t push him to continue. “It’s ok.” Ranboo said, cause what else were they supposed to say? It was a ghost. A real, actual fucking ghost, it was taking all of their self control to not freak out. All things considered, it looked weak, but if this kid was what was infecting the museum and the memorial and messing with their head like that, Ranboo could guess that he was anything but. “I’m here to help, however i can.” “How?” the ghost whispered in response. “I’m dead. Thats it. I didn’t do well enough in life, now I’m here forever. Even if you can finally see me, you can’t stay.”
“Can I take you out of here? You don’t deserve to spend the rest of your afterlife surrounded by the same places you were for your entire life. I travel a lot, I’ll take you.” Ranboo wasn’t sure why he was offering. He certainly didn’t need to, he just met this dead kid. But…something about all of this hit home for them. They lived their life seemingly alone, unappreciated, and helpless. Getting a family had been Ranboo’s saving grace, maybe they could be a saving grace for this ghost too.
“I…I’d love to go. But I can’t.” the ghost admittedly sadly. “Im stuck here. Im bonded to this stupid uniform and there’s nothing else in here that I’ve had a stronger connection with. There’s only one thing I might be able to re-bond to, but it’s not down here.” “Wherever it is, I’ll find it.”
“I had it throughout the whole war, and it was on me when I..when I died. I’d bet it’s there. If you find it, I’ll be able to follow wherever it goes. That’s how I think it works, or at least, that’s how it feels like it should work. You’re the first person who’s ever been able to see me like this, I want to trust you. If you really can somehow feel my emotions, you’ll find it. Help me and I’ll leave with you.” “I’ll find it, then. I’m not leaving you behind.” He didn’t know why he became so attached to the ghost, but he wasn’t going back on his word now. Ranboo pulled the ghost away from his chest, holding him to eye level with one hand and holding the other outstretched. “I’m Ranboo.” The ghost grinned, his smile taking up his whole face as tears still poured from his eyes. He took one finger with his hands and shook. “I’m Tommy.”
~~~
The sun was starting to set by the time Ranboo gathered everything they needed for what they were about to do. Whatever weird physic connection they had to Tommy was truly fucking with their head as they circled the tower, trying to get a sense of where this thing might be. Almost everyone in town was home for the night, which Ranboo was grateful for since he was pretty sure that digging up around a memorial site was probably unappreciated at best and illegal at worst.
He was running fully off his own intuition, digging near the front of the stone, quickly realizing that whatever Tommy needed was in that area. It luckily wasn’t too far down, since Ranboo was only using their hands, but eventually they found it: a compass. This was it. Almost as soon as their hands touched the old iron, the sick panicked feeling they’d had since first arriving here went away, though Tommy’s lingering grief remained. They pulled a water bottle from their backpack and quickly cleaned off the compass with their shirt till it shone like it hadn’t been buried for a century. They opened it’s clasp to find the inside miraculously untouched and clean of grime, save for a message that had been scratched into the inside years ago: “Your Tubbo.” Along with this, it was fully functional, pointing in a direction that was decidedly not North but hey at least the hand was working. They clenched it in one hand and pushed the upturned soil back into place with the other. They had to push back more tears as they thought that this had been Tommy’s, now unsure if the sadness was theirs or not, but that was an issue for later. Right now they just needed to steal this century old historical artifact and be on their wa-
“Ranboo! There you are, Phil and Techno have been lookin’ for you!”
Now call it a practiced reflex or whatever, but when a kid who has spent most of their free time practicing magic tricks that may or may not involve swallowing marbles gets caught by a museum curator holding what could be a priceless addition to the museum that they are not going to give up, you can imagine that in the panic to hide it, muscle memory may kick in.
Ergo, you know exactly where the compass ended up the second Ranboo heard Jack’s voice.
Ranboo turned away from the monolith to see Jack running towards him, trying to keep his cool and pretend everything was fine as he felt the cold metal of the compass slip down his throat and into his stomach, eventually clinking against the marbles he hadn’t had time to pull to his mouth. “You alright, man?” he questioned, and Ranboo nodded. “Yup! yup, totally, absolutely nothing wrong here, heh…where are my parents? I have something to show them.”
~~~
“This is crazy, we didn’t even know this was here!” Phil said, standing at the cobblestone tower. “It’s sad, too. You said there was more stuff left behind by this kid?” Techno asked, and Ranboo nodded, wanting to get back to the other memorial as soon as possible so they could get Tommy and get out of this town. “Yes, there’s a little underground tomb thing in his memory, and we need to go there before it closes and we head home.” Ranboo said with a determination that was rare for them. Techno and Phil took the hint to follow.
Making his way back to the memorial, Phil and Techno looked around a bit at some other artifacts, but Ranboo bolted straight back to where Tommy was. Racing down the steps, he saw all the lights were still broken except for the uniform spotlight, and Tommy was nowhere to be seen. “Tommy, it’s me, I’m back. I found it, I found the compass. ‘Your Tubbo,’ right? You can come with me, I’ll get you out of here.” Nothing. He waited. He heard the district footsteps of his parents behind him, but paid them no mind. “Tommy? It’s ok, you don’t have to hide! It’s me, Ranboo, your friend, remember? Tommy??” He started to get frantic, and felt a calming hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Ran, you don’t need to have another panic attack today. Who’s Tommy?” “The soldier, this soldier!” Ranboo said, pointing at the uniform. “The kid, the one who built the tower! He asked me to find something, it was where he said it would be, I spoke to him, I touched him, he was here!! Please, please you have to believe me-“ “We do, mate, we do!” Phil interjected, taking Ranboo’s hands in his and rubbing circles into the backs of his palms. “You spoke to a ghost, that’s incredible! But, maybe if you found what he wanted, he’s moved on? You helped him find peace.” “He didn’t want peace, he just wanted a friend! I told him I’d be back for him.” Ranboo practically sobbed. He again didn’t know what came over him, he was never like this. He barely knew this ghost, why was he getting so worked up over this?? Phil and Techno exchanged glances that told him they were thinking the same thing he was.
“Ranboo, listen to me;” Techno said, placing his hands on his kid’s shoulders, “you helped him. He’s at peace now because of you. He probably didn’t know that would happen, but he’s ok now. He’s happy, alright?” Ranboo took a few deep breaths, and suddenly felt a shocking wave of calmness wash over him. And by shocking, he meant freezing. It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, but he no longer felt ill. Sure, he was shivering, but he felt…better. So, so much better. He was worried about Tommy, but maybe his parents were right, maybe he had moved on. Maybe Ranboo had helped him.
No one noticed that the air in the cellar grew warmer as the trio left the up the stairs.
~~~
Ranboo’s sense of calm had persisted as he was helping pack up his family’s van, now knowing they’d have to drive through the night to get home, but so did the chill. In fact, his shivering had gotten so bad that Phil had stopped to buy him a blanket and a few packs of hand warmers at a gas station, and that was barely doing anything. It had been a few hours at this point, and while Techno was driving in silence and Phil was asleep, Ranboo found himself laying across the backseat pulling the marbles back up to his mouth again out of habit, only to barely suppress a hiss of pain when they hit his teeth. They were fucking cold, and the sensation on his teeth was incredibly unpleasant. Pulling the marbles out of his mouth, he was shocked to discover that they were coated in ice, fully frozen over.
None of this was making sense. They set the marbles aside, sitting up somewhat and pressing a hand to their torso underneath the blanket. It was frigid, the entire area of his stomach was ice cold. Was…was it the compass? Could it be?? He tried to pull it up, but for the first time in years, he couldn’t. He tried again. Nothing. He tried a third time, and this time distinctly felt something yanking the compass back into his stomach.
The aura of calm (which Ranboo was quickly realizing was being pushed onto him like the panic had been earlier) was cracking, and Ranboo began to panic. He couldn’t throw up, his body temperature had dropped by at least 10° F, and his stomach felt like it had frostbite. What could he possibly have done, what could possibly-
wait.
The air in his stomach was dropping in temperature, his emotions were being manipulated, and the compass was in his stomach, the one thing that the ghost had said he’d be able to latch onto to leave with Ranboo.
no fucking way.
“Tommy…?” Ranboo whispered as loud as he would dare as to not disturb his parents. He waited for a response, until-
“I was wondering how long it’d take you.”
Ranboo could have screamed. The calm aura shattered, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from hyperventilating while his other hand stayed firmly grasped over his stomach. Fuck. Holy fuck, there was a ghost inside of him. Was he possessed, or was this being haunted? It felt like he was being haunted, more so, but either way he would certainly fucking rather not be. “What are you doing in there?! Get out!!!” Ranboo hissed frantically, still trying to pull the compass out of his stomach and hopefully the ghost along with it. The compass was pulled back down regardless.
“Hey, don’t yell at me like this is my fault! Why would you swallow my compass anyway? Don’t you think it was a bit of a shock for me to see you walk into my room, feel the presence of the most valuable item I owned before I died, and attach myself to it only to end up in here?! Pretty damn weird way to rescue a guy, if I do say so myself.” Tommy snarked, and Ranboo sighed. “I’ll explain later, I don’t want my dads to hear me. I’m sorry, now let me bring you out.” “No can do.” Tommy replied. “I don’t, uh, deal with adults well. I heard them talking to you, that’s why I didn’t just leave the second I ended up in here. I’d rather not meet your folks. And myself and the compass seem to be just fine.”
“I’m gonna die.” “No you won’t, pussy. I’m not that cold.” “The metal against my stomach lining is!” Ranboo quietly argued, “just let me bring the compass up, i’m not gonna get rid of it. I want to help you, but i can’t do that if we’re both ghosts.”
“You…you still want to help me?” “‘Course.” Tommy responded in silence for a few seconds, before sighing. “Fine, but if you toss it I’ll curse you.” Ranboo hummed in agreement, not bothering to argue that if he wanted to toss it he wouldn’t have dug it up and certainly wouldn’t have swallowed it in the fucking first place, and this time when he pulled up the compass it came easily. When he pulled it out of his mouth, a cloud of steam came out with it like he was standing outside in negative degrees. Sure enough, the compass was frozen and almost hurt his hands to touch, so he immediately opened a new pack of hot hands for it, wrapping it carefully.
With nothing else in his stomach, he could start to focus on what Tommy himself felt like, which he’d expected to be nothing, but was…definitely something. Firstly, the ghost was cold, as was to be expected, but oddly physical. Like, there was a noticeable weight in his stomach, but he was generally used to that. Tommy didn’t necessarily weigh…less or more than the marbles, but he weighed differently. His weight was spread out, and since he wasn’t as solid as what Ranboo normally swallowed, it felt strange. He could feel something, someone, in there, but it wasn’t like anything he’d felt before. He…didn’t hate it. Tommy was almost…soft? Like a form made of tv static that he could feel along the bottom of his stomach, but he still had a form and some mass. Tommy hadn’t said anything since he gave up the compass, so Ranboo took the opportunity to press his unoccupied hand against his stomach, feeling where the front walls touched Tommy’s form and the tv static feeling spread. Then he felt Tommy press back, seemingly done with talking for the night. Ranboo patted where he felt his stowaway and laid an arm over his…well, he guessed friend now.
Something warm lit up in him when he realized he’d finally have a friend, even one his own age (Tommy still acted like a teenager, so in his mind, it counted). He genuinely couldn’t wait to get to know Tommy better, learn about ghosts and how he lived, and more, but he quickly figured out that excitement was not the only thing making him feel warmer. Tommy, who seemed to be completely unconscious, was warming up slowly, and Ranboo was confused for all of 2 seconds before looking back at the compass. Right, the hot hands. He guessed Tommy was more linked to this thing than previously thought. Ranboo looked down at his torso, arm still over his friend. Yeah, Tommy deserved to be warm after all his time in that cold ass cellar. He reached down and placed the compass, still in hot hands, right in front of the car heaters that Techno had been blasting for the entire ride. He felt his stomach heat up a lot faster, and swore he heard Tommy sigh as he felt the tension in the ghost’s frame melt away. Good, if this is where Tommy needed to relax, Ranboo could do that.
#sorry if this seems unpolished lol it’s edited but i haven’t written for a request in years#also Ranboo uses he/they#also also if at any point this says ‘watch’ ignore it i meant compass in the oh version of this i forgot what a compass was called#*og not oh#might make another part to this#please send asks if you wanna know more!!#cyncerity#mcyt g/t#mcyt gt#tw vore#giant!ranboo#tiny!tommy#ghost!tommy#giant!phil#giant!techno#g/t vore#vore writing#soft vore#safe vore#dsmp g/t#dsmp vore
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I've a feeling that Mr Akasaka believes they're really clever and they think they’ve given us all the necessary hints already but no one gets it
If you search for "Aratate Shrine," it's an information that comes up right away!
I opened the volumes again after a long time for reference, since I was planning to draw a fan comic.
At the end of Volume 8? Or the last part of Chapter 80? When all the characters went to make their wishes? Page 189??
There’s a narration there that says, "Was it because their prayers were answered, or was it someone’s guidance?"
And on page 186, it even confirms that the location is Aratate Shrine!!!
Now, look at the description on the tourist guide website! It says this:
A shrine that is often visited by celebrities, Aratate shrine is said to bring good fortune in show business and marriage. This shrine is dedicated to Sarutahikono-mikoto and his wife Amenouzume no-mikoto who gave directions to Ninigino-mikoto the grandson of the sun goddess(Amaterasu) upon his descension from the heavens. While walking through the grounds of the shrine, you will see ancient trees called sakagi which are said to grant wishes. One of these trees called Shichi-fukutoku-jyubangi is said to grant 7 wishes to those who hit the tree 7 times. Take your best shot and stock up on good fortune!
I feel like I already brought this up a long time ago when I was researching and linked it back then!!!!
Kamiki, that guy, is a guiding deity!!!! Sarutahiko is a god of guidance and also a god of light!!! That’s his identity!!!
The one who granted the wishes there was him!!!! If there's ANYONE in this comic who is that Sarutahiko god, it's Kamiki!! He helped Ruby’s career, later granted the twins’ wishes, and even helped them find him. The hint is in the "Mephisto" lyrics—it’s like he’s saying, "Come find me." He granted their wish to come to him and kept supporting the twins. In his own way, he thinks of himself as their father. Even near the end, there’s a mention of wishes again, right? It seemed like he wanted to grant them. It’s like he wanted to do something for them.
He’s a god who guides the way and leads people’s futures in a good direction!!! He’s the black star, and Ai is the white star.
Right now, all the wishes have been fulfilled in strange, distorted ways, haven’t they? That’s because this guiding god’s power has been corrupted and is now malfunctioning... It’s Kamiki’s fault. He's the selfish giant star that's been ruining people's lives as said in the song Fatal. But I’m not sure if this is something intentional or not.
For wishes to be properly fulfilled, Ai has to be with him. The two of them need to be together to make it happen. The wishes end up being granted with flaws because he's incomplete without his wife regarding that ability!!! He's wishing upon a star in Mephisto to have Ai come back to life, isn't he? He needs her to complete him and function! That's why he'a been looking for her and her love ever since she passed!!!
I don’t really check Japanese fandoms or other people’s reactions, but is there no talk about this in Japan??? This is the answer, isn’t it???? Has no one figured it out? I’ve been talking about this since July or August, but people won’t believe me. Then I just casually opened the volumes to reference the art, and I saw that. Now I have a headache. This is correct. If this isn’t right, then what is it? What’s the explanation? The story doesn’t make sense otherwise.
Why else would his name include references to a god and light? And I’m telling you, Ame-no-Uzume is Ai!! After Ame-no-Uzume married her husband, she started blessing love too. It’s said she’s the reincarnation of the morning star!!! Seriously!!!
Kamiki is a god, but it seems like his power has been distorted somehow, and it doesn’t even seem to be entirely intentional.
If you analyze the lyrics, they mention a flaw arising. That flaw came after he lost Ai (love).
His ability to guide the future got all twisted, and as a result, everyone around him started becoming miserable and dying.
Why isn’t this addressed properly in the story??? Because it’s not mentioned, no one gets it, but I’ve been saying for months that this must be it~~ This must be it~~ It’s so frustrating!! But since this is what's beyond logic and too fantasy, even if I think it is, it just isn't convincing, is it?; I understand, I feel stupid myself too but,
There are way too many traits of Kamiki that align perfectly with that god for this to be a coincidence. And why else would there be references to him being noble, or him drowning??? Ugh!!! Seriously!!
Isn’t it possible that things just didn’t work out the way he wanted them to? He probably never wanted anyone to get hurt, at least not until Ai’s death. This person seems to have the ability to influence the future, but if everything had gone the way he wanted, would his life have ended up like this? The fact that both Aqua and this person ended up drowning is proof of it—they can make wishes come true, but everything gets twisted in the process.
What if this person fell apart because of it? What if even he didn’t want these results? At the very least, some of the things that happened don’t seem like they were his intention. Ai’s death, for instance—there’s no way he wanted that. He probably really just meant to send her flowers. But because of the darkness in the entertainment industry or whatever, everything about him was already so broken that it unintentionally spiraled into the worst outcome due to his broken powers.
That’s why he completely lost it… He’s searching for Ai (Ame-no-Uzume-no-Mikoto), isn’t he? There’s even that line about him wandering in search of love (Ai). I think it’s from Chapter 160 or so. He wants to get his wife back. Collecting the white stars probably had a real connection to that goal—it seems like it actually worked in some way.
Then what about all the other incidents? The deaths of so many people? After he "died" (?), didn’t people start acting like they were breaking out of some kind of trance, with a bunch of them suddenly confessing and turning themselves in? This isn’t something a normal human could do. Is it that he passively exerts influence just by existing, or did he actively use his abilities to make all that happen later on?
Anyway, he is a god!!! But what if he really meant it when he said he never intended to hurt anyone? What if that’s true? No way, right? Isn’t this all just him spiraling out of control in his desperation to bring his late wife back?
I really think this interpretation is correct, but shouldn’t the story have addressed this explicitly?!
If you’re Japanese, is this something you would’ve known? Do people get it? Is it common sense?; Do they understand what’s happening in this story? Does everyone know? Shouldn’t this have been explained? Without researching separately, you might get the feeling that something’s off, but there’s no way to uncover the full story just from the work itself. And yet, these kinds of clues exist, don’t they? I’m telling you, my interpretation is correct. Why don’t they clarify this? For a story to work, you need to at least tell us what it’s about.
I really think this is the answer… No matter how much I think about it, there’s no other coherent way to interpret it.
That’s why it’s so frustrating. No one takes it seriously and I get that because even I feel ridiculous insisting that a character is a god!! but there’s no other explanation for it, right? I thought the story would address this before it ended. Isn’t this such an irresponsible piece of work? At the very least, they should’ve wrapped it up so that we could understand what was happening. Why didn’t they?
I’ve never tried to feel something intentionally.
But what this character feels... it’s just too overwhelming. The emotions of suffering are so vivid that I can’t help but think there’s something more to it, and it keeps bothering me.
For a character accused of being a psychopathic serial killer who supposedly murdered his girlfriend, I couldn’t help but think, he doesn’t seem like someone who’d do that. That thought bothered me so much my head hurt.
But in this case, isn’t he grieving? The song conveys sorrow and pain, doesn’t it?
This kind of emotion doesn’t feel like something someone who hurt their loved one would express. It’s grief, longing, and an unbearable desire to see them again. And it’s not entirely one-sided—it feels like it stems from a mutual bond that once existed. The more I look at it, the clearer this becomes. If I couldn’t see it, I wouldn’t bother putting my heart into this. But once I do see it, there’s no way to ignore it.
It feels like the emotions are so strong because there was a time when they loved each other deeply, got along so well, and were happy together.
Am I the only one who feels this way? I don’t think so.
I don't think he ever wanted nor attempted on things to turn out this way. There IS something about the guy that influences those around him into disaster.
This darn manga… It hits so hard, and yet, look at what it’s become. But it seems to follow mythology, so I can sort of understand why it turned out this way, and that makes it slightly forgivable. But do people get this? Do they know why it happened like this? No way. You can’t know unless you look up the mythology. If you’re going to incorporate mythology into the manga, at least explain it! This manga isn’t entirely grounded in reality anyway—there are gods, reincarnation, wishes, star eyes, and some kind of mission or destiny!
I'm not trying to defend Kamiki, either way he seems to have become a hazard of some sort.
And before that, Ai passed because Kamiki is guiding god whose powers-the power of Michihiraki-which brings out the best in people-, got distorted into being the opposite of what it was meant to be due to the darkness of the industry?
So people like Ryosuke had their worst sides coming out and that influenced him to murder Ai. In that case, Kamiki would feel a sense of responsibility for it and try to reverse it (if he's figured out his destiny-or what he is-)because even if it were to be unintentional, it'd still be his fault in a sense. That's why he has this bizzare behavior of blaming himself continuously for things.
I'm not sure if everything about this is solely what he's brought upon himself. If he has those kinds of powers, maybe people just die and end up misforunate from him wishing to feel Ai?
(Yeah then we had him thinking killing Ruby would have helped him to feel her. But he didn't do it. Was it only because Aqua tried to stop him? What is going on?)
Well, when someone dies, they’re no longer by your side, so their presence begins to fade.
I think this person… just couldn’t bear that. If you look at the lyrics of the songs, they convey those types of emotions.
From what I feel, his feelings towards Ai isn’t about worship either—it’s just pure longing towards what he regarded as his other half. But I bet a lot of people won’t see it that way. The story doesn’t make it easy to interpret it like that, does it? Ha… it’s frustrating.
Sure, a character who’s a clingy psychopath has its own charm. But if someone who isn’t like that is written to look that way, shouldn’t the story take responsibility for it? Either say it isn’t true, or confirm that it is. Why do I feel like I’ve figured out the answer, only to constantly doubt myself, wondering if I’m spouting nonsense?
The narrative and abilities of the god of entertainment couple align way too closely with Ai and Kamiki. Not just on a similar level—it feels like they are them. Was that not important? I think it’s an essential element for explaining why the story unfolded the way it did. They SHOULD have touched this before they go.
You know, I wonder if there's a way to tie up Hikaru's characterization between 155 and post 160.
Like in another version of onk where there's more time and effort put into it. The end result is Aqua and Hikaru falling into the ocean but the process is different, do you think it's possible to do that with the same amount of chapters?
I think I said this ... ? somewhere ?? in my tag previously but I think a really low effort easy way to make this make even a moderate amount of sense is just to alter Tsukuyomi's little monologue at the start of 161 and have her state that the Jokerfied Kamiki of post-160 is the direct result of having his worldview shattered by realizing that Ai had loved him all along and that he killed her for nothing. Like, as an exercise to prove this, I bullshitted this together in a few minutes;
please be nice about this dialogue i came up with it in 10 seconds
Is this good? Eeeeeeeeehhhhh. I think having Kamiki be the final boss after 154 is just so mid and such a boring way to end his arc, but I do think something like this would be an improvement. At the very least, it makes the sudden, jarring shift between the seemingly defeated and remorseful Hikaru of 154-5 and the Anime Supervillain Hikaru of 160+ actually motivated by something in-story other than "GO CRAZY GO STUPID" but I also think it makes the bitter tragedy of Aqua's death hit a lot harder. Now it's not just Kamiki being arbitrarily ontologically evil in the way that most conveniently puts him in conflict with Aqua - this is now a tragedy that Aqua brought on himself by continuing to pursue getting revenge on Kamiki and rubbing his nose in his mistakes.
Obviously this is still messy as hell and it doesn't solve all the dumb shit with Aqua's ""reason for existing"", but I do think the Kamiki we get on page in OnK is not unsalvageable as a character and it legit would've taken very little to make him internally consistent in a way that was engaging.
Oh uh, we're cutting the serial killer cult bullshit though. That's just dumb.
#oshi no ko#oshi no theories#hikaai#oshi no ko spoilers#hikaru kamiki#ai hoshino#anyhow I'm so done w this comic in this aspect#long post#spoilers#this really stressed me out for months#why didn't they touch on all these fantasy elements they themselves put into the story??#I spent WEEKS AND MONTHS just trying to interpret what the heck was going on to make sense of the plot;;#do japanese ppl get this? I doubt they do bc#the author doesn't donthe work! i don't know all the myths in mt country either!!
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Why, I got lost at C̶̥̆ö̵̯́ṅ̸̬v̸̯̌e̴̲͘r̵͙̐g̶̑͜e̵̘͊n̵͐͜c̸̨̀è̶̡ ̷̟͊S̴͎̓t̵͎͂a̴̠͊t̵̟͝i̷͙̐o̴̖̓n̷͕̂, how are you?
#Convergence Station#Meow Wolf#Denver#art installation#was in town for SIGGRAPH so we stopped by#I REALLY want to make it to all the other locations now#Inoni Sighting#THIS HOLE WAS MADE FOR ME#I ended up buying a Bearret plushie I couldn't resist#also idk if this is standard procedure or if this employee was awesome#so I really wanted a 'boop' card but didn't grab one downstairs#and when I asked about it in the main exhibit was told it was 3 bucks#but was told the currency 'off Earth' was 'Mems'#so I could just share a memory in exchange for a card#so I told a 30-year-old story about dropping my ice cream on the floor#and thusly got a boop card#what a fun discount#lol
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These clown animatronics in FNAF wild as hell..
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf fanart#ennard#the mimic#jackie fnaf#fnaf sister location#secret of the mimic#michael afton#I really wanted to draw Jackie again#I love her design especially her silly extendo arms#some folks think Ennard and Jackie might be the same robot#like Ennard was gonna be a Funtime Jackie#which I think would be really neat to finally know what Ennard was supposed to be#Jackie hopeful gets along with the other clown animatronics#it’s funny to compare these two#CAUSE AS OF NOW Jackie has done much#we won’t know all her crimes till later#but I will say Ennard probably set the bar 💀#it’s hard to get more freaky than him but we’ll see if Jackie can do it#Jackie gives me very ‘cheesed to meet you’ vibes if that makes any sense
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So I never did tell you guys about this AU I had where Mob runs away from home after the new years incident, eventually being found my Tsuchiya and brought into Claw, where they ruthessly try to train and manipulate the kindness and pacifism out of him, until one day it just all gets too much and he explodes, destroying the whole facility, which brings Mob to Shou's attention and he decides he Needs Mob by his side to defeat his father, and they basically become worsties (Mob not wanting to fight at all and fearing his powers more than ever, and Shou being. the opposite of that), until they succeed, which causes them to split basically out of the trauma of Mob truly fucking killing someone, and Shou realizing maybe he didn't want his dad completely gone after all, and then Mob basically becomes even more homeless and completely alone, until he meets Reigen who's working at a flower shop and beefing with Minegishi and their flower shop business, and tada, he has a child now I guess.... did I? Anyways-
#mob psycho 100#mp100#au#kageyama shigeo#suzuki shou#art#these pieces are kinda sloppy cause i just wanted to get some ideas out but yea#my own art#my own post#comic#id in alt text#also both when mob destroyed claw and when he killed touchirou he entered ???% state.... shou at first just admired the sheer power of it#but now hes not so sure what to think....#mobs just even more traumatised than he is in canon#and ritsu has been trying to locate shige all this time eventually awakening his powers and focusing on aura spotting and locating abilitie#still have to think through more on what goes on ritsu's side of the story tho...#i have to draw reigen from this au interacting with minegishi and mob sometime#anyways im just really fascinated by sho's and mob's relationship and how they see each other so i had to make an entire au#to explore more of that lol#(also mob is disquieted and upset at the haircut because it reminds him of all the good memories he had in the past#and how he's Not that person anymore and doesn't Deserve to even Look like that person anymore#he has blood on his hands now... the old shigeo is gone#thus why his hair is so long and shaggy in this au)
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Every now and then I replay the first episode of VLD and I wonder why I thought it be a good show lol
#mostly just the part where Allura is assigning pilots to lions#why lol. the first five people who show up are just perfect fits?? hate it lol#i have no au plot ideas but itd have made more sense to draw out the forming of voltron. like for a longer time. like its the s1 finale#and to be traveling looking for appropriate pilots#or the s2 finale? like what if the original gang somehow stayed in contact despite not being Voltron paladins and they proved being the best#team despite not piloting immediately. i feel like a stronger plot of their forming teamwork outside of being Voltron would have also made#their friendships seem more real too lmao#like what if Lance IS Blue's pilot bit hes the only one for a long time. the other lions couldn't actually *just be* located#*but. not bit. and what if Pidge runs off in a stolen vessel to find her dad and brother. what if Shiro isnt.. so flat as a character and is#desperate to find his old team and runs off with them to help out and free others#Keith could somehow get involved with The Blades a lot sooner#and Hunk finds his footing as a leader in rebellion organization. i hate that he was just the funny guy allll the way thru#also (still not a plot bc my brain is unorganized lol) Allura doesnt die. Shiro actually gets to be gay with a husband. and we either need#to not make Lotor a villain or just go all out on making him the worst. i personally dont want him to be a villain bc it was stupid lol#also PULEEEAASE Lance is bi. Lance “I'm just getting a feel for the stick” *obsessed with his rival who doesnt even know he exists* McClain#i want to see him get over his crush on Allura within like 6 episodes and then see him making out with the mermaids then Keith when everyone#starts reuniting lol. my bicon Lance deserves to kiss mermaids like we all do and then get on when the otp lol#now im nostalgic for s1 VLD vibes. ya know. before hell lol#it really just gets worse after ... s3? everyone feels different. i usually tolerate up to about the end of s3 before i feel like its donezo#aunt posting#vld#voltron: legendary defender
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my best friend has been very distant w me lately and i asked today if she wanted to hang out and she said she probably couldn't bc it's her brothers birthday but she would let me know if she could and i have her location and i just looked and she's at her boyfriends house rn....
#we have it bc we're roomates so we started sharing locations when we first moved in like in case someone doesn't come home at night or smth#she recently told me that she wants to move out bc she has always wanted to live alone and she can finally afford it. and i asked her#directly like is there an issue because she is so non confrontational so she has never ever mentioned me doing anything that bothers her#and i said please tell me if there's something wrong because it would really suck if there was and i never got a chance to fix it because#you never told me. and she said no it has nothing to do with that i really just feel like it's time for me to live on my own. and a couple#days ago she was like okay i'm next in line for my apartment i'll probably move out in april. and i try to get her to hang out still and#she always has something else going on and i swear every night this week she's been at her boyfriends.#and if i see her around our apartment and try to make conversation at all she's so like short about it and barely responds like will only#give one word answers. i feel like it kind of started when i started dating e but i realized that i was spending less time with her and i#didn't want to be the girl that loses all my friends bc of a boyfriend so i started specifically reaching out to hang out with her and she#says no most of the time and never asks me. like i don't know what else i can do.#i'm like maybe it's bc of her boyfriend? bc they've been on again off again for a long time and previously when they were together it was#really distant with her like i barely saw her EVER. and they were mostly broken up for the past couple years and have been together i think#for a while again... but she knows i don't approve of that relationship and so she would like not say when they were talking again. so maybe#since lately they've been hanging out or dating or WHATEVER she doesn't fucking tell me what's going on with him. maybe that's why.#i literally like try to think of ways it could be my fault and maybe i'm being crazy but i cannot even think to blame myself for more than a#fleeting second bc i'm like. i have ASKED HER directly if there is an issue or something i do that bothers her and she says no. so even if#i'm somehow pissing her off would i ever know to change anything?? i just feel so frustrated bc it's like she's an entirely different person#to me. like this is not the person i know. and i don't know what else i could possibly do like i feel like we need to sit down and have a#conversation about it but what good does that do if she just acts like nothing is wrong. but i don't want to lose my friend i have such a#hard time making friends. i've known her since i was 14 like i can't imagine my life without her. we were the only two in our whole friend#group in high school to get out of the church i still love those other girls but we have so little in common now.
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ohhhh the witcher 3 is getting on my nerves again. this game hates me specifically!!!!
#spent several hours over the last few weeks learning gwent and trying to complete the collect em all mission#ONLY TO DISCOVER. WHILE LOOKING AT A GUID FOR CARD LOCATIONS.#that the guy who serves as a gwent tutorial at the VERY BEGINNING of the game gives u a card if u beat him#and obviously i did not best him bc im only NOW getting good at gwent#and theres just no other way to collect that card#and even tho usually the missions fail if u cant complete them anymore (makes sense) for some reason the gwent one DOESNT#SO I HAD NO IDEA IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO COMPLETE THE SET#so now i just. the ONLY way to complete this achievement is to start an entire new game from scratch#which u know like whatever. its a side thing. its not important. but i really like gwent and i wanted to collect them all!!!#like do i REALLY want to spend 30+ hours all over again JUST to get ONE achievment??#all bc the game didnt fail the mission i had no chance of finishing from the moment i unlocked it???#its pissed me off so much i dont even want to play it anymore 😭😭 NG+ doesnt even let u keep ur cards#so i cant even beat the game and then go back for it!!!!#its just. ugh. for a game this massive i feel like there should be more than one chance to collect an item important to side quests??????
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Man, I can't believe I didn't wake up to this news in the form of a Supernatural meme :(
Seriously, though - if you have the ability to vote, go do it. And while you're at it, maybe bring someone along with you who might not have the means to go vote on their own.
Yes yes, I too am very sad and annoyed that Trump is not dead, I got all breathlessly excited and queued up "Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead" to be ready for a great announcement, and then I didn't even get to play it. It's a huge bummer.
However, step two of this huge bummer is NOT "Oh no and now his fandom will be EVEN MORE ANNOYING, we have basically already lost :((((" That is the devil speaking. Step two is to say "Ah heck, his fandom is going to be even more annoying, better FUCKING VOTE AND MAKE SURE EVERYONE I KNOW ALSO VOTES" Stop your worthless defeatism, stop your stupid pessimism, stop trying to GIVE UP AND SURRENDER just cause one weird thing happened.
GO VOTE, IDIOTS
#politics#can't believe a time traveler failed to kill the new wannabe hitler lol#dude - if you wanna pull an assassination attempt you gotta know how to aim first :(#in other news - THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS LMAO#on the one hand i don't want that dick to be martyred - but on the other hand i REALLY want him to fukken die already#and on an extra hand politicians need to know their constituents can fucking kill them if they're being asshole shitbags#and before anyone is all 'OH BUT KRYS - YOU SHOULDN'T WISH DEATH ON PEOPLE CUZ THAT'S BAD'#uhhhh so is wanting entire subsets of people to be wiped from existence when all those subsets are doing is trying to exist???#like. sure. you can wish for the problem in question to change their ways - but it's much more likely that they won't#like. seriously. come on now#him and his crowd really out here being all 'oh no an lgbt could kiss another lgbt near me and that is a threat to my life and safety'#bitch HOW#or even 'this person is different from me in color or beliefs or just fukken LOCATION and i am so scared about it i could die'#bitch PLEASE - that's PATHETIC#existing should not be a crime punishable by death#what SHOULD be punishable by death is wanting to slaughter countless people - and actively fighting to allow and ENABLE that slaughter#wishing for this orange turd's death is - by comparison - a spit in the ocean#like sure - it's still RUDE#but it's not as bad as wanting LITERAL GENOCIDE#tl;dr if someone is trying to make you not exist you have a right to fight back to protect yourself#self defense is not a crime
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hm ok so interestingly, bdubs’s courthouse is built on an odd number of blocks. note the roof of the facade coming to a point, but more importantly, the nine pillars….
you don’t use an odd number of pillars. like ever.
let me get this out of the way first: i get why you’d build with odd numbers in minecraft. i usually do it myself, to not run into problems like double doors or two-wide pointed roofs or frustrating spacing/symmetry between decorative elements. however. to not even out the design of something so unequivocally done in every other example of columns and pillars…. fascinating implications…
every other example guys. every other building with columns like this has an even number of them.
doing so sets the line of symmetry at an invisible point between two pillars, an even number on each side. but an odd total number of pillars makes the central pillar itself the line of symmetry. this does a couple things.
one, it upends the sense of community and equality. which i know sounds crazy, but really, a group of columns are all put there to hold up a structure. there’s no focus on one because they are all are working as supports.
symbolically, at least when first used in ancient greece, pillars represented people. and it makes sense for courthouses, especially, to want to show an even, fair, equal number of people on each side. no focus on any one, no inherent bias right off the bat just looking at it.
with an odd number of pillars, though, one will always be placed front and center.
and THEN. and then you walk in the courtroom itself (also odd-numbered blocks) and you are immediately opposite the judge, bdubs, located exactly centrally. and true, courtrooms are often set up like this anyway. but bdubs ups the ante and reaffirms that no, focus is on him by staging it all as a daytime court show, boom mic just over his head, cameras pointed in, spotlights on him.
literally by design, it was not built for justice. it’s built for show, for entertainment. and just look at the credits to know exactly what sort of message you’re supposed to be getting from this show.
the biblical story he used, with king solomon. it’s about king solomon. isn’t really about the trial itself, or the babies, or the women. it’s about showing (off) how wise and just he is. that’s the point. hm. interesting.
now, getting to the second point that etho also picked up on: it feels like a prison.
it’s not just the color palette. when your eyes naturally draw to the center point, you aren’t seeing an open space. instead of feeling like an arch or gateway or otherwise some kind of opening, the pillar there makes it feel closed off. the overall effect is that of prison bars. not pillars lining the entrance to a place of order or a temple. bars of a cage, a cell.
imagine the lincoln memorial were set up with 11 or 13 pillars. he’d look so much more trapped in there.
having a central pillar blocks the entrance. it’s not welcoming. you have to go around it; it’s immediately inconveniencing you. and when you go to leave, it’s there blocking you again.
this courthouse was not designed and built to be fair, nor accomodating, nor equitable, on any terms. even if unintentional, i wouldn’t call it so much coincidental as i would… subconscious.
after all, y’know. form follows function.
#this came about by me being like ew why are there an odd number of pillars that’s such a faux pas and just overall odd (haha) choice#but then i was like oh wait. there’s something to this#i dont think it looks BAD. i just think that odd number of pillars causes problems and maybe it doesnt stick out to other people as much#but it bothers ME. okay#bdubs#bdoubleo100#hc10#hermitcraft#mightaswellspeak
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waxing time with your boyfriend. ryomen sukuna (sfw)
cw: fluff, crack, sukuna is too confident.
After yet another groan of pain, you rip off the strip of hard wax from your inner thigh. “Fuck…” you curse.
The wax has gripped all your hairs well, and you raise an amused eyebrow, holding the strip up to the light to observe the satisfying bulb pulled out from the root. Waxing has always been a monthly routine for you, a way to maintain your body to feel good with smooth, soft skin — and not to please your boyfriend who clearly doesn't care about your body hair.
And you thank him for that.
Sukuna is not the kind of boyfriend who complains or cares about your appearance. While many partners refuse to have sex with their girlfriends over body hair, knowing that Sukuna is not one of them soothes your nerves when his angry/irritated side shows. You even accept closing your eyes when he yells from the other end of the apartment that he's hungry and wants his “woman” to make him some food.
With a smirk, you stir a wooden stick to mix and then take some more wax from your wax warmer. The next strip is inevitably painful, located along the bikini line. The particularly sensitive and thin skin around this area never fails to elicit a squeal of pain when you rip the hairs from this spot.
And that’s exactly what happens.
Your sharp cry of pain catches the attention of your boyfriend, who stomps into the room, growling. He leans against the doorway and crosses his tattooed arms over his chest. “What is it now, woman?”
“I rustle up a magic potion,” you reply tartly.
Without leaving the room once, you finish waxing your bikini line, one hand armed with a cold compress pressed against the irritated, slightly reddened areas.
Sukuna steps over the distance between you and lowers his nose towards your wax warmer to sniffle it. “This is really a stupid thing humans have invented.” He rolls his eyes.
“Well, this ‘thing’ hurts a lot,” you clarify, hopping in place because the irritation annoys you, and the best way you’ve found to cope is to hop around to distract yourself.
“Pfff. You’re just an overdramatic crybaby. It can’t hurt that much.”
Your eye twitches and a vein bulges on your temple. “Oh yeah?”
A few minutes later...
“THIS IS SORCERY! GET IT OFF ME!” Sukuna yells, one foot propped on the edge of the bed with a long pink wax strip along his hairy calf.
On your side, you’ve been laughing uncontrollably for a good five minutes, tears in your eyes and your stomach almost painfully contracted from laughing.
“STOP LAUGHING, WOMAN! I’LL KILL YOU!”
And as you’re about to pull the wax strip, you grip the lip with your fingertips to yank it off sharply.
Sukuna lets out a scream as high-pitched as a little girl’s or a bat’s while your even louder laughter echoes in the room.
#[azra masterlist]#[dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more’]#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna fanfiction#sukuna drabbles#sukuna fanfiction#ryomen sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna imagines#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen fanfiction#jjk drabbles#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna fluff#sukuna ryomen fluff#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk sukuna
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sober thoughts | s.reid
summary: pining!reader makes a drunk call to spencer after going out with friends, and is aggressively trying to flirt with him.
tags: reader is DRUNK! alcohol!! dont read if thats not okay!!, fluffy as fuck, spencer is the most gentle of gentlemen, pining!reader, reader wears makeup/dress/heels, spencer is lowkey bad at flirting but he shows affection in weird ways, one use of Y/N (sorry i know)
a/n: this has been bouncing around in my head for a while. sigh.
word count: 1.9k
masterlist
He was used to seeing you tipsy, if that was even the right word for it.
You were friends, after all. Best friends, even. And the fact that he lived only a few doors down from the pub the team frequented made it stupid not to offer his couch to you after going out with the team.
You weren’t a heavy drinker by any stretch of the imagination. Every now and then on a Friday night, you’d head out with the team and have one, maybe two drinks if you were feeling particularly adventurous–but you still didn’t want to drive home, especially when he was offering his home to you. Truthfully, you just liked getting to hang out with him. You liked getting to exist in his orbit and discuss a random topic late into the night. It had become normal for you, an excuse to do something together that didn’t revolve around work.
What was not normal was the fact that it was a Saturday at 11 PM and you were really drunk, calling him.
Your contact photo filled his screen, illuminating the dark room. You weren’t one to call, preferring the convenience of a text. Especially this late, which worried him a bit. He picked up quickly, tucking the phone to his ear.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Hey, Spencer?” It wasn’t your voice. “This is Molly, Y/N’s friend. I’m sorry to call so late. We’re out with some friends from college celebrating someone’s birthday, and she got… like, drunk drunk, kinda sloppy… and she’s been blabbing about you for a while. She wanted me to call you.”
“Oh,” he sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, preparing himself. “Can you put her on?”
“Yeah. Not sure you’ll get anything out of her, though. Here…”
He can hear the general chatter and chaos of the bar over the call. There’s some rustling sounds before you finally take the phone.
“Hi,” you say, your voice dripping with a certain kind of fondness. He can hear the smile through the screen.
“Hey,” he replies. ”You having fun?”
“Oh, Spencer, I was… I haven’t heard your voice in so long. What’re you…” you trail off, lifting the phone from your ear to answer someone else. “Sorry. ‘S so loud in here.
He chuckles to himself. “I saw you yesterday.”
“Yeah, ‘nd that was… Oh, I can’t do math right now. A long time ago.”
“Are you okay?”
On the other side of town, you were sitting in a barstool, swiping your finger along the beads of condensation rolling down the glass of water in front of you.
“Mhm. ‘M good. Fine. Drunk.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” he smiles. “Are you gonna be able to get home?”
“Uhh…” you pause. “I was gonna Uber… but then I thought that maybe… if you weren't busy… we could hang out…”
He could vaguely make out dialog on the other end of the phone. Some kind of “Girl, this sounds really pathetic,” followed by a “Shhhh!” in two other drunken voices.
“But I could also make Molly order me an Uber,” you added. “‘S okay. Nevermind.”
“No, you're not getting in an Uber inebriated. That’s ridiculous.”
“‘M not inebriated.”
A background voice comes back. “Yeah, you are.”
Spencer sighs into the phone. “Just… send me your location, please? I’ll come get you.”
“O-kay. ‘M sending it right now, jus’ tell me when you-”
The call went dead before you could finish your thought, which he chalked up to some kind of drunken user error. A few seconds later a text came through
You: dropped a pin
You: its molly again. let me know if you got this
He responded, relieved that you had someone looking after you, before getting ready and grabbing his keys.
-
You were sitting on a bench outside the bar. The air was cool and crisp, but you were warm, your skin clammy from the alcohol. You had been mumbling something incoherent about Spencer, he’s just so good to me, Molly, and oh, god, I don’t know what to do with myself, and…
Molly, who had been trying to sober you up (unsuccessfully), was standing in front of you, arms crossed, listening to your incessant rambling.
“...’nd sometimes he talks to me, ‘nd I have no idea what he’s talking about but he’s so hot when he’s smart. You should hear, it, Mol’.”
Cars pass on the street behind you, filling the silence momentarily. Molly looks over her shoulder, scanning the street before turning back to you. “Alright. Be quiet. He’s here”
“Don’t care.”
She puts her hand out to help you up, which you accept rising to your feet. You’re surprised by how unsteady you feel, but you focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
“I’ll make fun of you for this tomorrow,” she says.
You only have a few seconds to grumble in protest before Spencer reaches you. He scans you quickly, chuckling to himself.
“You are a mess,” he says, amused.
You feel slightly infantilized watching Molly hand over all your personal effects to him. You weren’t even sure when you’d put down your wallet and keys, much less where, but you’re thankful she picked them up and not someone else.
“Good luck,” She tells him. She pats your arm before turning back to the bar, leaving you alone on the street with him.
“You okay?” He asks. You watch him shuck off his jacket, which he helps you slide over your arms.
“‘M fine,” you reply. “Warm.”
“Because you’re drunk.” He keeps his eyes trained on the zipper of the jacket, or really anywhere that isn't you in that dress. “Alcohol is a vasodilator. So you feel warm. But it's forty degrees outside, and hypothermia doesn't care.”
You pout at him, watching as he pulls the zipper tab up enough to shield you from the cold. Only then does he really look at you.
“I wanted you to see my pretty dress,” you pout. Your words come out slurred still.
You meet his eyes for a split second. He opens his mouth, seemingly about to reply, but quickly decides against it. He shakes his head as if to clear the thought.
“Come on. We gotta get you home.”
“You don't like it?”
“I didn't say that.” He tucks a hand under your arm as you begin back down the street, keeping you steady.
“So you do like it?” You look over at him, your face more excited than he was expecting.
“It’s very pretty,” he replies.
Your shoulder bumps his as you walk, seemingly unable to maintain a straight path along the sidewalk. The click of your heels against the pavement is uneven, despite your efforts to maintain some kind of composure, and unfortunately for you, he’s right, and it's freezing outside. You make steady progress down the block, placing all your focus on not falling flat on your face. Thankfully, he doesn't live all that far.
“D’you think I look pretty, too?” You ask, approaching the steps to his apartment.
“What are you trying to do?” he asks, looking down at you. He takes in the slight flush of your cheeks as the effects of the alcohol battle the chill in the air.
“I’m trying to flirt with you. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, you're going to be difficult all night, aren't you?” He sighs, ignoring the question. He pauses outside the door, keys in hand, and unlocks the door before guiding you inside.
“You don't ever want to flirt with me.”
The door falls shut behind you with a clunk. The room is dark, with only the distant light from a lamp somewhere across the room illuminating it. You squint when he turns on the big light.
“That’s not true,” he says, quietly. If you weren’t hanging on to his every word, you might have missed it. He carefully unzips the jacket, tugging it off your shoulders and setting it on the table.
“So why won’t you flirt with me right now?”
“Because you’re drunk,” He guides you towards the couch, his touch still careful as ever.
You flop down onto the cushions. The leather sticks to your legs as you sit. Being the gentleman he is, he has already left pajamas out, his pajamas, you’d since claimed as your own, with the blanket you steal every time you stay over.
“So what?” You begin working at the clasp on your heels, fumbling with the leather straps to no avail.
“So, you’re drunk.” He repeats, reappearing in front of you. He sits on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, and hands you a pack of makeup wipes. “Do you need help with your shoes?”
You nod. A soft breath of laughter escapes him as he leans in to help you take them off, setting them on the carpeted floor.
“Spence,” you look at the pack of wipes. “Why do you have these?”
“Because every time you’re here you forget them,” he replies.
“Oh.” You rip them open. “You don’t have a secret girlfriend?”
“No,” he replies, lowering your foot back to the ground.
“You don't let other drunk girls sleep over?” You paw at your eyeliner, effectively smearing it around more than removing it.
“I don't let anyone sleep over,” he says, taking the wipe from you. “Just you. Close your eyes.”
“Because you love me?”
His fingers find the underside of your chin, gently tilting your face towards his so he can finish swiping away the last of your eyeliner. Maybe you’re blushing as a result of the alcohol warming your bloodstream, but the more likely answer is him, at this proximity.
As soon as he’s done wiping your eyes, you open them again to look up at him.
“You’re bold when you’re drunk,” he says, smiling. He sets the used wipe down on the table.
“Mhm. You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m not going to,” He says. “Sorry. Go get changed.”
“That wasn’t a ‘no’,” you say. You collect the clothes off the couch and slink across the apartment into the bathroom to change. You don’t bother shutting the bathroom door before slinking off the dress you were wearing and sliding on the pajamas he’d left for you. Once you finish, you collect your dress off the floor and make your way back towards the couch, settling right into the cushions as you frequently did on nights like this.
You were formulating another complaint about his lack of reciprocation, but your thoughts were interrupted as he pulled the blanket on his couch over you. Your blanket, or at least one you’d claimed as your own during one of your nights spent here. He had already turned off the ceiling fan, which you’d always insisted off when you slept over. You followed him with your gaze as he turned the lights off, swapping them instead for a smaller, softer light somewhere in the kitchen, remembering the way you’d always insisted he leave a light on somewhere, just for you. Your phone was already charging on a side table, your heels sitting nicely by the door, your keys on his key holder, evidence of you, everywhere, details that were distinctly for your comfort. Maybe you had missed his signals.
“I think you do love me…”
He reappeared a moment later, crouching in front of you with that look. He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Go to sleep.”
“And I love you. And I called you because I wanted to tell you that.”
“You really need to sleep it off. You’re saying things you don’t mean.”
“But I do mean it,” you whined. “I swear. Ask me again tomorrow.”
“You won’t remember this tomorrow,” he laughed.
“But I will. I promise,” you replied. “No bedtime kiss?”
Of course, this time you did pick up the way he looked at you.
“No, honey. Maybe tomorrow.”
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Double Date - Double Down
NSFW | MDNI
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader
Word count: 4.9k
Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.
A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.
“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.
Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“
“How do you know I’m free?”
“You just said you were!”
You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.
“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“
“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”
You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”
“Johnny’s friend will probably-“
“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”
“He won’t-“
“We got a deal?”
She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”
At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.
The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.
“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.
You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…
Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.
“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.
You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.
“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.
You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.
All in all, wayyyy out of your league.
He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”
You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.
“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.
Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.
He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”
“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.
“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.
“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”
Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.
You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.
“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.
She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”
In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.
“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”
He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”
“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”
His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”
You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”
“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”
You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”
He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”
Oh.
*Oh*.
You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”
He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”
Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.
“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”
“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?
“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”
You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.
“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”
“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.
He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.
“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.
“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”
“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.
Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.
“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.
He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”
“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”
“Yeah?”
“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”
“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.
The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?
“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.
“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”
Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”
“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”
“Apparently.”
His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.
Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.
“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.
“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.
You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.
His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.
“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.
Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”
“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”
He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”
“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”
“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.
“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”
“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”
“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”
“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”
“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.
“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.
How convenient.
“Okay.” You whisper.
After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.
At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.
It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”
“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.
Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.
“Simon!”
“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.
“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.
“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.
You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.
That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”
You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”
“Say it back, doll.”
“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.
“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.
You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”
Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.
“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.
His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”
Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.
Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”
“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.
“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.
“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.
He freezes, looking up at you.
“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“
Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”
All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.
“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.
“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.
“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”
The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.
“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.
Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”
Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”
“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.
You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.
“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.
“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.
Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-
“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.
Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”
“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.
For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.
“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.
You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.
“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.
You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.
“Good.”
It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.
You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.
Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.
When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.
“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.
Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”
“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.
He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.
It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.
By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.
Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”
“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.
You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”
“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.
“Are you a psycho?”
“Not generally, no.”
“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.
Simon just scoffs at you.
You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.
You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”
Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.
“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?
You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”
#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#ghost x reader#plus size reader#fat reader#reader insert#simon riley x you#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x you#smut#cod smut#reader insert smut#one shot#Ghost with OCD is my roman empire#he’s so much more well adjusted than I usually write him but it was fun#holly writes
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UPDATE: NOVAVAX NOW AVAILABLE!!!
Hi everyone, it's been about a year since I posted about updated COVID vaccines and it's time for another update if you are in the US:
THE BRIDGE ACCESS PROGRAM IS ENDING!!!!
If you are uninsured or your insurance does not cover covid boosters, please schedule a new booster appointment before the end of August because the Bridge Access Program (the way the government will still pay for your booster) ends in September. The updated mRNA boosters from Moderna and Pfizer are available now. Go Go GO!!!
Shitty, I know! If you can call your congressional reps, the FDA, the CDC, whomever to tell them you want this program to continue/be reinstated, that would be great. Also, while you're at it, call the FDA to tell them to expedite the approval for the updated Novavax booster (3017962640).
The new Novavax vaccine is designed for the JN.1 strain which is one of the most recent mutations of the virus going around. If you have insurance and can afford to wait, I highly recommend getting the Novavax booster when it becomes available.
We are currently in the largest Covid summer surge since 2021
If you haven't had a booster in the past six months you are essentially unvaccinated. New strains with different spike proteins keep evolving faster than vaccine development and distribution can keep up. All that said, getting Covid is not a moral failing. If you do feel sick, take a rapid test! If it's negative, test again a day or two later. It is better to know than not to know. Here's a refresh on how to take a rapid test correctly:
If you do get Covid, it is worth getting on antiretrovirals within the first week of symptoms to reduce the overall viral load your body has to fight. If your insurance doesn't cover Paxlovid or Remdesivir, here are other low/no-cost ways to access it:
If you get sick, rest radically even after you stop testing positive on rapid tests. Avoid exercising for at least eight weeks after the fact to reduce the risk of developing long covid.
Regardless of your vaccination status, masking with a KN95 or N95 respirator (or equivalent standards in your country i.e. FFP2/3 in the EU) is the most reliable way to protect yourself and others. If Covid protections are a financial burden, there is likely an active Mask Bloc near you doing free distribution of respirators and tests that would be happy to help you. Here's a global map of them from covidactionmap.org
Some quick tips: if you're wearing a bi-fold mask, flatten the nose-bridge wire completely, then mold it to your nose on your face for a better fit. The best mask is the one that you will actually wear regularly to protect yourself. I really like the selection of styles, sizes and colors from WellBefore:
As school is starting, getting you and your family boosted is one of the best things you can do to protect yourselves. Masking is perhaps even more important. If you can advocate for updating and regularly changing the HVAC filters at your local schools to MERV-13 or higher to keep the indoor air cleaner, that can also make a big difference. Better indoor air quality in schools helps protect kids from illness, allergies, wildfire smoke, and more per the EPA's website.
These are steps you can take to improve air quality at home as well. Corsi-Rosenthal boxes are low-cost and highly effective for cleaning the air indoors.
Here's a map of clean air lending libraries for getting access to air purifiers for events from cleanairclub.org
#covid#covid 19#signal boost#boost#long covid#vaccine#wear a respirator#indoor air quality#covid testing
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