#but at the same time everyone else in my team was like at least level 70 if not higher and i just let him die

[five-rivers]

Danny spontaneously develops a new power but it happens in human form so he like,, calls down lightning or a comet or whatever on some hapless ghost or whatever and he’s just like ‘huh I didn’t know I could do that haha neat’ and continues on with his day meanwhile the people who just witnessed Danny Fenton’s apparent superpowers are Sweating

Some ghosts got on Danny's nerves more than others. In the same vein, some humans got on Danny's nerves more than others. When those two groups intersected, Danny got a little... tetchy.

At the moment, he was more than a little tetchy.

The Box Ghost and Youngblood had decided to team up, although that was probably overstating the situation. It looked like Youngblood had prodded Box Ghost into attacking Amity Park at the same time as him. The problem was, no one was afraid of the Box Ghost. Not really. The Box Ghost was basically harmless. Mr. Lancer could drive him off with a rolled up newspaper.

On the other hand, Youngblood was a threat. Youngblood was a threat, and only about half of Danny's classmates could see him. Certainly, none of the staff could. So, half of the students were convinced that the mayhem was all Box Ghost, and the other half thought that if the teachers and everyone else weren't afraid of Youngblood, he wasn't something they should be afraid of, either.

So! They were all there! Staring! Standing! Keeping Danny from going somewhere to transform! Because they were in the middle of the football field! For some sort of activity Danny hadn't payed attention to! Because Youngblood was the single most distracting things in the entire universe!

And unless Danny could do something about it, someone was going to get hurt. Youngblood had no limits on his pranks, and pranks without limits were indistinguishable from assassination attempts. Or something like that.

Although, at the moment, the only prank he was playing was 'got your nose.' Repeatedly. With only Danny.

... Maybe Danny was overstating the danger level here. And his inability to get away to transform.

Still, Danny didn't want to be known as the only guy who still ran from the Box Ghost. Everyone thought he was a wimp and a coward already. That would just cement his reputation. Forever. At least with the half of the class that fancied itself all grown up.

And maybe the fact the he still cared about his reputation explained why he could still see Youngblood. Whatever.

"Hey, hey, hey," said Youngblood, dipping back into Danny's view as Mr. Lancer attempted to herd the Box Ghost off the field. "Guess what, guess what, guess what--"

"I AM THE BOX GHOST! FEAR ME AND OBEY! I WILL NOT VACATE THE PREMISES UNTIL I RECEIVE MY TRIBUTE OF BOXES, SQUARE AND--"

"Guess what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna sing the song that never ends. It gOES ON AND ON--"

Danny took a deep breath. It was meant to be a calming breath. It was not.

"SHUT. UP!"

A tongue of light forked down from the admittedly cloudy sky, licking towards both the Box Ghost and Youngblood. It burned green when it hit them, leaving bright, ectoplasmic imprints on the back of Danny's eyes.

"You're no fun!" said Youngblood, much quieter than before. "I'm going home!"

"The Box Ghost will retreat... FOR NOW!"

Danny rubbed his eyes and sighed at the blessed silence.

Wait. Silence. That wasn't right. This place should be full of kids talking, at least. He looked up. Everyone was staring at him.

"Oh, huh, I didn’t know I could do that. Haha. Neat. Can we, uh. Get on with things?"

Very slowly, Mr. Lancer walked back into position and started his lecture again.

[andersonfilms]

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who dominates the field. she knows exactly how to dominate the field. appointed team captain for her leadership skills, her ambitious drive to combat with her competitive edge and being the most seasoned player on the field didn’t hurt. even with the success she’s had, there’s a chip on her shoulder as if she’s inclined prove her worth. even if her role is high, there’s something else she needs. a sense of validation cruising through her mind plagued her, the driving force for her insecurity laced in her bones despite her excellence level of performance.

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who has worked for what she has, hence her worth ethic is top notch. she knows what it takes and only wants to be the best. but you? it just so happens you are striving for the same thing. from the very first day, vi is not your biggest fan. especially when you start winning everyone over. with your stupid smile, the humor that same to make everyone laugh, the kindness that seems to reach every but her.

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who is dismissive the moment she sees you. you’re cocky, overly-confident — it’s the clear the moment the two of you met. then, you act like a complete fucking asshole. yet, all she offers is subtle eye rolls once your back is turned. she says nothing when you shoulder check her besides the curse, she makes to herself. at least, vi

what was that, v?

it’s vi.

𖥔｡˚ ⋆ soccerplayer!vi who is fucking infuriated. one of the biggest matches of her professional career and you almost fucked it all up. your big ego nearly not big enough to fit on this team, you remind vi of your incessant craving to make the big play. avoiding passing to her because she needs to be the one score to the goal. vi bit her tongue when she saw the ball anchor through the net. really, she was looking forward to shoulder checking you after you missed, but now she must stomach your earth-shattering smirk.

vi isn’t sure how it happens but the two of you end up in the showers alone. it’s clear to the both of you, there’s little love to be had and the steam rolling of off the team captain’s shoulders is evident. not from the shower the both of you just took either.

still, she remains silent as she finishes dressing, her muscular, tattooed back facing you. the ever so stoic athlete keeping her comments to herself.

“can’t even be happy, huh?” you snarl, pearly whites nearly on full display. “the all might v didn’t save the day so it wasn’t good enough.”

“this is not —” she sighs deeply, running her hands through damp hair, “you really think this is my problem? m’not one with the ego that needs stroking.”

she slides her t-shirt fully over her waist before being faced with you. the pink in her hair darkened from the shower but her eyes still glow just as blue. normally, if it were anyone else, her composure levels would be sustained.

unfortunately, this is you.

“you need something stroked.” you press.

“excuse me?”

simply, you shrug your shoulders as you deliberately walk past her. instead of a shoulder check you’d like to indulge yourself in, just to hear her curse at you when she thinks you can no longer hear her. sometimes, you just want her to smell your body wash, flood her senses until she’s drunk on it.

even if she hates you, you’ll make she secretly love every moment of it. a fine line between hate and love, the two of you seem to dance on it delicately. hidden behind a curtain vi used to protect yourself will certainly be drawn back. all that’s needed is a bit of ruffling.

she smells the sweet vanilla mixed with the musky mahogany as drift through her vicinity.

more importantly, she feels you.

the deliberate hand grazing her ass, almost applying pressure. vi thinks she might be imagining things. did you just grab a feel of her?

yet, she doesn’t have much time to process your motive when an involuntary whimper leaves her lips, a soft sigh vibrates through her body and escapes before she can catch it. your own is upturned at the omission, a secret one, a moment of weakness in her aching body.

the blood seems to boil, nearly immediately — she hates you.

she hates you. what the fuck?

disappointingly, from the ridges of her repaired heart, vi knows saying something twice doesn’t suddenly make the first lie true.

“alright. are you going whimper some more for me or do i have to give it a squeeze?” your eye subtly drops into a wink, looking her up and down.

beautifully, she pouts with her eyebrows furrowed, but your focus is on her lips.

vi visibly gulps, “what? no!” but she doesn’t hide it well. the desire bubbling in desperate blues. she’s fumbling over words but none of them string into a coherent thought, just a flustered mumble.

“sure, v.” you lean in with lips ghosting her pierced ear. “you may be captain but we both know whose really in charge.”

an in a blink of an eye, you vanished, as if this never happened in the first place. vi left to deal with the intoxicating scent of your body wash and the lust bubbling beneath the surface disguised as blind hatred.

[octuscle]

I’d like to know if you could help me! I want to be a professional open bodybuilder (just like Nick Walker, Derek Lunsford), but, at the same rate my muscles grow, so do my male musk (specifically sweat musk from my armpits and cock) - no shower, deodorant or anything else will clean/cover my strong smell - until the point people around me get dizzy with my musk, start to complain and ask me to leave the places. With more muscles and less body fat, more sweating and musk until it reaches a strong level that people start to avoid me from fear of my muscles and my intense gym musk! Could you help me with that? Thanks a lot!

It's always the same people who are unhappy. You're rich, you've inherited, you don't have to work. You look dazzling, you know the right people, you're always invited to the best parties. And you don't feel like it anymore? You want to change that? Do I have a free hand? Then I'll get started!

You're sitting with a few friends in your favorite bar and tell them about your plan. More out of politeness than anything else, everyone says it sounds very exciting. You loosen your tie knot and undo the top button of your shirt. Phew, that's how you get your breath back. But you still need some fresh air, it's too crowded and stuffy in here. And somehow you don't feel like going back to the sissies. You feel more like going home, maybe doing a few more press-ups and then going to bed. After a few steps, you take a deep breath. And the top button of your shirt is blown off your chest like a projectile. The seams of your suit trousers are dangerously taut.

In the stairwell of the magnificent old building next to the city park where you live, the first seams crack. Thank God you don't meet anyone. By the time you get back to your apartment, your slim-fit tailored suit is in tatters. Somehow you're not even surprised. You tear off what's left of your clothes and stuff everything into the garbage can. Even your underpants no longer fit properly and are thrown away. You go naked to your dressing room and do a few push-ups, then squats, then a round of sit-ups until you're drenched in sweat. You stand in front of the mirror. Yes, you've gone through a growth spurt. And you stink. Sweat and musk. Delicious. But you still take a shower. The towel smells awful after drying off. And you don't feel a bit cleaner.

When you wake up the next morning, your cleaning lady has opened all the windows and is airing out the apartment. When she hears your footsteps on the way to the bathroom, she comes around the corner and is about to ask you where this unpleasant smell is coming from. You almost collide. You are still naked, scratching your hairy balls while still half asleep. Your cleaning lady turns bright red with fright. Then she holds her nose. You smell your armpit and say with a grin, "Excuse me, Maria, I'd better go and have a shower". In the bathroom, the laundry basket smells like a football team's changing room. You jump in the shower, but it doesn't seem to do any good this morning either. Damn, you might as well go to your workout. At least everyone there smells of sweat.

Damn, that was a really good workout. You pose in front of the mirror. Your sweaty tank top on the floor. During the workout you were incredibly focused on the weights, only now do you realize how disgusted the other customers are looking at you

You check your reflection again. Holy shit, you look really good, what's wrong with them all? Probably just jealous. You pick up your tank top from the floor. Somehow it smells a bit. You hold it up to your nose. Yes, it's sweat and musk. Maybe a little intense. You love it. The smell makes your cock hard. The sweat stains on your sweatpants are joined by precum stains. You need to take a shower now. And wank.

When you check out, the receptionist looks at you in disgust. He puts some ointment under his nose and puts on a face mask. He informs you that the studio requires a minimum level of personal hygiene from its customers. Several customers have already complained. He asks you to come showered and with fresh clothes next time.

Yes, you smell bad despite the shower. You walk back home because you don't feel like complaining again on the subway. Normally a pleasant walk. But for one thing, your legs are really exhausted from training. On the other hand, you feel that you easily weigh 20 pounds more than you did yesterday. You look in the mirror of a shop window as you pass by. Fuck, yeah! You see the reflection of a serious amateur bodybuilder.

You're too exhausted to climb the stairs to your apartment. You get into the elevator. Mrs. Spencer from the floor below you shouts for you to hold the elevator and barely slips through the closing door with her daughter. She holds her nose in disgust. And her daughter, perhaps four years old, asks why the big man smells so bad. Phew, the elevator isn't big anyway. Today it feels even narrower.

That was all a few weeks ago now. You left your impressive apartment because the stuffy neighbors were getting on your nerves. The nagging was unbearable. You thought that the cheap apartment building where you were staying temporarily was really just a temporary solution. But there are a lot of guys living here who are like you: fuck the opinions of others, the main thing is that you grow up. Really big! When you walk through the front door, you take a deep breath. It must have smelled something like this in a Neanderthal cave.

Since you've been banned from your hairdresser, you cut your hair yourself. You like it, it looks even more brutal and masculine. Even in your hardcore gym, your stench stands out. But here the other musclemen envy you for it. Hehehe, and there's always someone who will even pay money to press his face into your armpit or suck your cheesy cock. Your life is great!

Pics found @antoinepaul and @maxx-magnum

[ronearoundblindly]

would you ever write an invisible reader? Like let’s say she’s an agent or a scientist. Quiet and stuff right? She always keeps to herself has the biggest crush on Steve but because she’s thinks she’s invisible she doesn’t ever think he might be interested too. There’s a mission she goes on and things go awry and she actually turns invisible. Something akin to how in the Fantastic Four movies they get their powers she gets this one? But it takes time to get under control. Steve thinks it’s his fault so he tries to help out. And through the the process of helping her gain back visibility she realizes Steve has seen her all along. Lol this really just came to my head when I was thinking about Steve using paint on someone’s body as a way to show them he thinks they’re art.

This. Is. Spectacular. I'm gonna fudge it a bit. Headcanon/stream of consciousness format. No warnings just canon-level "action." gif credit: @meidui

Erasure (Steve Rogers x junior agent!Reader)

My first instinct is to make it an ability to alter someone perception--i.e. you're constantly a little embarrassed of your input, so you tell people to 'forget you said that'--and let's say that constant hope that you won't be remembered badly is the innate trigger for your ability.

Probably a science experiment of Tony's gone wrong. He and the team are arguing about something that needs to be recovered before a damaged thing reaches critical mass. You sneak in to just grab what he wants and not waste time arguing. Tony doesn't know you're in there and locks the lab down until the dangerous pulse dissipates. (Steve doesn't know you're in there either because you popped in while he was facing and yelling at Tony, fwiw.) Maybe Tony saunters in once the doors open, finds you there with the part in your hand and knocked on your ass.

Your skin touches his as he reaches for you and the part. You jokingly tell him there's nothing to worry about, nothing to see here. You're surprised that he listens and walks off immediately, chatting and leading the team away down the hall to show them something else he's working on in the hangar bay.

Overall, once you catch your breath, you're fine. You don't want to go to the infirmary and tell them you did something so dumb.

Life continues.

Through a lot of trial and error, you realize what you can do--forcibly--by erasing people's memory of you being around. The head count for meetings is off. Several teammates you know you spoke to see security footage of you at the time and curiously remark that they don't recall you being there. Things like that. It works on everybody, or so you think.

There's a brainstorming session about how to infiltrate a possibly corrupt corporation's facility to gain intel. Everyone agrees to this elaborate rouse where two ripped agent dudes pose as janitors and blah blah blah. It's a little absurd.

You check the companies job listings, and knowing you qualify for one, submit an application the next day. The woman in HR who hires you doesn't work on the same floor as where you are technically snooping, and you can handle the work they actually want you to do in just a few hours a day, giving you a bunch of time to access nearly everywhere and nudge everyone to forget you were there.

The attempted break-in of fake janitors is the talk of the office on your last day, the one where you find the info Stark wanted to begin with, and then you quit, still quietly, returning to the Avengers the next morning.

You drop off the intel to Tony's office when he's not there, but just as you get situated back at your little desk, Steve comes up.

He looks concerned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the flimsy cubicle wall.

"Feeling better?"

You're so confused.

"You were out for over a week. Did you need to go to the hospital? Was a family member with you at least? You could have called in for help."

On impulse, you grab his arm and tell him not to worry about you, yet he...doesn't move. After a flawless use of the power hundreds of times in a row, you don't understand.

Blinking up at Steve, you blurt, "I should be erased. Why are you still noticing me?"

He's bewildered, sure, but Steve tucks his head and smiles shyly.

"Can't erase you, doll," he chuckles, so soft only you can hear. "I draw you in pen--" Steve taps his temple "--up here..."

He bends down, his hand gently gripping your arm and his cheek touching yours.

"...now where you been for a week?"

And then, yes, some beautiful closeness and Steve paints on you to highlight what parts he drew so permanently on his mind!

🤗

a/n: Thank you for sending in this lovely idea, nonnie! I'm sorry everything I'm writing has been short and convoluted the last...while, but this is such a sweet premise. (Also, my apologies if you really, really wanted straight invisibility as the power. Just send in another ask, and I'll try to come up with an alternate version!)

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 7

Summary: As the party dies down the avengers spend some time bonding and peter joins them for the team bonding.

TW: Alcohol (that’s it I think)

Words: 2196

A/n I finally found time to write again and so I present to you this band new chapter \(>u<)/. Enjoy. Also, I know I said I would post it as one long chapter but … ig I lied? We are getting to the secret reveal soon. Only about one or two more chapters until we find out what the Parker’s are hiding. I’m so mad cuz I wrote the next chapter, but it didn’t save so I have to rewrite it which is why I’m just posting what I have here and why it’s taken so long sorry guys.

After you were led around and introduced to some more people Wanda and Nat led you back to the small area from before with a couple couches. By now the party had begun to die down with most of the guests, or who peter referred to as Stark Industries NPC’s, leaving for the night.

As you settled on a couch with the others it was now just the team, most of which you had been introduced to by now. Some introductions had been rather short but yo were working with these people so you would defiantly have time to get to know them better. Some of them you would be even living with.

The night had been a success for the most part. Earlier Thor had arrived along with his promise of asgaurdian liquor. After consulting with JARVIS it was confirmed that your metabolism was a match to Steve’s meaning you could stomach the god’s alcohol without getting poisoned.

This had of course led to you getting properly drunk or at least on the way to it, for the first time since the bite. Unfortunately, Nat had caught onto your plan rather easily and cut you off much to your displeasure.

Now with the team spread out across the couches, most with a drink in had or some assortment of fruity cocktail the banter had picked up as the music had died down and the guests all left.

“So, spider-kid whats your story?” Bucky asked and you adjusted your position on the couch suddenly feeling a little nervous with all eyes now on you. You felt a hand squeeze yours as you looked over, seeing wanda giving you an encouraging nod from where she held your hand beside you on the couch.

“Not much different to Peter.” You said.

“But somewhat different, right?” Sam said.

“Well … yeah.” You shrugged. “Same old spider bite, different powers, different life choices.” You said with a vague noncommittal shrug.

“So, where you been all this time?” Steve asked in a kind way.

“Queens.” You shrugged. “Small apartment, big rent, crap job until I started my own business, then I was planning on moving but you guys decided to level my apartment block to save people.” You shrugged.

“Sorry about that.” Steve said.

“I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.” You grinned sipping the soft drink Nat had given you instead of alcohol.

“Hey, I let you live here, didn’t I?” Tony said with a grin.

“But you did kind of destroy all her stuff Mr stark.” Peter said from where he had snuck in and sat down unnoticed.

“Hey, you're not supposed to be at these.” Tony said. “And I bought her new stuff.”

“Its just the team Mr Stark nobody else is here. Can I stay please?” Peter begged looking at you to back him up and pouting when you threw your hands up.

“I don’t know May said no alcohol.” He begun and suddenly May piped up making stark jump.

“Its fine Tony, just don’t give him any and keep an eye on him.” She said from where she was sat with pepper.

“Jesus woman. I forgot you were here. Don’t scare me, I have a heart condition you know.” Tony said as somewhere in the background sam continued laughing at him.

“Pepper said I could stay the night, and we could have a girl's day tomorrow.” May said grinning.

“Sounds like some shenanigans I want nothing to do with. I assume it will be at my expense.” Tony said sounding amused.

“Of course.” Pepper said.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” May added.

“I’ll drink to that.” Nat said and raised her glass.

As everyone took a swig of their respective drinks you realised why peter liked it so much here. It was a family. A real family. Sure, May did her best and you would always have a special bond only blood could give but this was the goofy family you never had.

“Wait so I’m confused, is she an avenger or not?” Clint asked seemingly asking the question on everyone’s mind.

“Can I answer that one Mr Stark.” Peter piped up.

“Sure kid.” Tony said.

“Welcome to the team Y/n/n.” Peter said with a big grin.

“Really?” You asked feeling this was all very offical.

“Damn right kid. We’d be stupid to not add another spider to the team.” Steve said with a smile.

“Plus, I already made you a suit. Ai and all.” Tony said.

“Thanks, tony.” You said with a big smile plastered across your cheeks.

“I have just one question…” Sam said with a shit-eating grin.

“What is it Mr Falcon?” Peter asked missing the look on Sam’s face.

“Who’s stronger?” Sam finished looking curious. “We already know spider boy is stronger than capsicle. But what about the other spider?” A few nods went around the room before Bucky spoke up.

“Arm wrestle.” He posed and you looked over at peter, flashing him a grin as he slouched in his seat.

“Ok.” You said and peter nodded.

Everyone crowded around the coffee table as peter and you sat down on the floor face each other.

“Standard rules. Ready?” Steve said as both you and peter positioned your arms on the table. Steve placed his hand over your clasped fists.

“Don’t break the table this time.” May said loud enough for people to hear and peters cheeks heated up while you snickered.

“3… 2 … 1… go!” Steve let go of your hands and straight away it begun leaning towards a win for you. Peters arm was shaking as he tried to fight back. With barely an inch between peters hand and the table the position flipped.

You were sure people had placed bets by now. Nat and Sam were cheering you on while Bucky had yet to forget the incident at the airport and placed his bet on peter.

You were on the defence now, with peter bringing your hand almost back up to the midway point. As it began to tilt in a bad direction for you with a burst of strength you slammed peters hand down on the table winning the match. Sam cheered and Nat smirked.

Standing up and brushing off invisible dusty from your lap Nat came to your side and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“My victor. Thanks for the easy twenty I just made.” She said and your cheeks were blazing as you retreated to your seat from earlier as everyone went back to their places.

“But can the spider's sister also lift the hammer?” Thor boomed as he patted your brother's shoulder while peter smirked. Everyone knew peter could wield the magical asgaurdian hammer.

You looked at Thor with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Is that a dare big man?” You asked with a grin curling up the edges of your lips.

“And if it is lady Parker?” Thor asked with a challenging tone.

“Well, if it is I never back down from a dare.” You said the look on your face never faltering.

“Then it is a date lady Parker.” Thor said removing his hand from Peter’s shoulder and clapping them together and rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“Ready to look like an idiot spider boy?” You asked looking at Peter who was starting to loose his confident look. He knew you had a heart of gold.

By now all eyes were on you, Peter and Thor.

“Alright pointbreak I put two hundred on the girl spider.” Tony said.

His words catching you off guard as you took a sip of your drink making it go down the wrong way as you choked and coughed. Making a few people laugh.

“Dollars?” You exclaimed once you got your breath back.

“No, I meant seashells.” Tony sassed rolling his eyes.

“I’ll take that.” Bucky said. “I say she can’t get it to budge.”

Soon there was a chorus of voices as everyone places their bets. Tony had, at some point, gotten Jarvis to start taking notes of who bet what and how much.

Once all the bets were done all eyes turned back to you and Thor.

“Alright lord of lightning.” Tony began, “where’s the magic screwdriver.”

“One second.” Thor boomed. Holding out his hand the sound of breaking glass came from across the compound before the hammer smashed through the wall and slotted perfectly into Thor’s open fist.

“Thor! I told you to stop doing that.” Tony said as he dispatched the iron legion to fix the hammer shaped holes in the walls.

“Apologies Stark it appears I have forgot again.” Thor said looking sheepish and slightly tipsy from the alcohol he brought from his home realm.

Before anyone else could complain about the new holes in the wall Thor places the hammer down on the table. Peter’s smirk began to waver at the look of confidence on your face. Yet internally you were nervous. Were you about to make yourself look like an idiot in front of everyone?

Taking a deep breath you attempted to steady your nerves. Thor brandished a hand in the direction of the hammer, inviting you to pick it up.

Steeling your nerves and steaming the quake in your hands you reached out and brushed your hand over the cool leather that the handle was bound in.

Taking a breath, you wrapped your fingers around the hilt and gently began to tug. The hammer moved as if it weighed nothing more than a few feathers. A collective noise halfway between a cheer and an audible groan came from the spectators as people either made or lost money on the events of the past few seconds.

You tossed the hammer lightly in the air as it spun a full three-sixty before you caught it again by the hilt.

“Lady Parker congratulations are in order.” Thor said looking giddy as he found another person who could wield the hammer. You had a wide grin on your face feeling pretty special for once.

“Why exactly?” You asked not entirely aware of the legend that surrounded your actions.

“Oooo she don’t know.” Sam said before Bucky lightly slapped him to get him to shut up. Sam glared at Bucky as he rubbed his arm, Bucky however seemed unaffected as he shrugged unapologetically at Sam who poked his tongue out at Bucky who pretended not to see.

“Well, lady Parker, they say those who wield the hammer are fit to rule Asgard.” Thor said and you looked excited for a second before groaning.

“What is it?” Wanda asked feeling the slight annoyance and hesitation rolling off your psyche.

“Ew…” you muttered shivering dramatically.

“What?” Nat said reiterating Wanda’s earlier statement.

“I don’t wanna be eternally ruling alongside my little brother. He’d probably need to be babysat the whole time.” You whined making everyone chuckle while peter looked offended.

“I don’t need babysitting.” Peter piped up.

“Kid I had to put an AI in your suit to babysit you after a building fell on you. She’s not wrong.” Tony said and Peter frowned.

“Hey, you gave me one too.” You protested.

“That’s to help you, it doesn’t have snitch programs in it.” Tony said smirking at Peter.

“Yeah, plus I use Jarvis to babysit Tony.” Pepper said smirking over the rim of her wineglass as she took another sip.

“What?!” Tony spluttered. “Hey Jarvis! Is this true?”

“No boss.” Jarvis said not missing a beat.

“I programmed him to say that.” Pepper said adding her two cents.

“It that true j?” Tony asked again.

“No boss.” Jarvis said

“Liar.” Tony grumbled.

May and pepper giggled as they clinked glasses, those two always seemed to be causing trouble. They had gotten quite close after Tony had reduced peppers hours for stark industries, claiming she worked too much and needed more time to “have a life” as he put it.

Naturally Pepper had taken to spending more time with May whilst Tony mentored Peter which had resulted in their wine and cheese club that met whenever Peter came over for his mentorship with Tony. Natasha was known to join on occasion as she knew everything that happened in the tower and would never say no to expensive and more importantly free wine. Wanda joined but it was few and far between that she frequented the club. Often, she was busy doing her own thing and lately she had been too busy spending time with you.

Your only concern was May telling Pepper about … things and then pepper telling Tony who would no doubt end up telling everyone in the tower. For now, you just wanted things to be normal, or as normal as they could be right now.

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff @sgm616 @queen-of-chaotic-surprises

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I know you’ve been receiving a lot of Malleus asks lately, but do you think Malleus’s overblot will really play with the idea of overblots being dangerous to the overblotter’s health? Having him suffer from health complications after his massive magic expenditure would help take him down a notch in preparation for whatever follows in Book 8. We can’t have him solving everything with his ridiculous magical might after all.

I don't really think they'll "really play with the idea of OBs being dangerous to the OBer's health" beyond making Malleus conveniently incapacitated for a short enough of a time to not defeat Grim in a single flick of his pinkie finger. (I also want to point out we don't have confirmation for a book 8 with OB Grim quite yet, so I'd rather not make assumptions on what's to come.)

The reason why I think this is because none of the other boys seem to have suffered the physical consequences following their own incidents. Not a single one as far as I'm aware, at least not in a significant way. It's also odd when you consider that both Riddle and Vil's books highlight that they are seemingly back to full health again "a few days later", implying that it only takes a few days to totally recover from the exertion and anguish that they were just under. The worst of it was Vil mentioning his group did not perform as well as they could have since they were all exhausted.

More damning, however, is Leona's circumstances. He actually recovers almost immediately after the defeat of his OB form (barring a trip to the school infirmary; this is more explicitly shown in the Episode of Octavinelle manga) and even has enough magic to spare to rejoin the interdorm tournament that's going on that same day. And, mind you, they are playing a sport which requires the use of magic… meaning Leona still pushes himself and uses magic when he just overblotted a few minutes ago??? Trey and Jamil even talk about how since the Savanaclaw students took such a beating, it'll be easier for the rest of them to have their revenge on them for playing dirty before the tournament's start. Is… Is no one concerned Leona might OB again from playing?? No?? Just me?? Okay…

Now of course Malleus is on a completely different power level than his peers. We can’t be sure how his body would react post-OB compared to everyone else, same as how Idia notes in book 6 that the memory wiping technology STYX has on hand may affect fae differently. Solely basing my thoughts on what we already know of other characters though, the mage’s health is not treated like a huge concern in the aftermath. We don’t observe devastating side effects either.

I think we can assume they’ll be fine granted enough rest and food, with maybe the one notable exception being physical hindrance/tiredness in the period right after. That’ll probably be long enough for Malleus to not Save The Day Instantly whenever it is that Grim loses it and rampages, thus giving the other boys a chance to team up and help out. Again, really plot convenient (*stares at the feats Leona was able to pull off in his “tired” state*) but whatever makes the story move forward, I guess 🤷‍♀️

[berriweb]

╰┈➤ ❝ FOR ME? ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. johnathan ohnn (the spot) x gn! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. attempted robbery (don’t steal atms kids), cursing

: ̗̀➛ note. i can’t resist writing for the silly little guy

Ring ring ring.

“Hey, Y/N, when you get a chance do you think you could look over some of the papers? If you’re not busy or anything.”

“Of course!”

Buzz. Buzz.

1 unread message. 1 new voicemail.

“You think you could be a dear and help out with my reports? I’m a little behind and you know how the boss can be…”

“It’s fine, I can help you.”

Ring ring ring.

2 new voicemails.

“Y/N, if you don’t mind-”

“Just leave it on my desk.”

“You’re the best!”

Between the insistent notifications going off on your phone and your coworkers/supervisors approaching you what seemed like every 5 minutes, it was nearly impossible to keep your head on long enough to get everything done.

After the aftermath of the whole disaster with Alchemax, your job seemed to become increasingly more difficult to manage on your own. Less people to help meant more work for you and less time to yourself, on top of the fact that you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to any employee that wanted to take advantage of your willingness to take on any assignment the other didn’t feel like finishing. Surely most of your team had caught onto that by now.

You were worked to the bone nearly every day, which was surprising enough considering you weren’t even on a high enough level to be working on any of the big projects, not to say your skills as a scientist were mediocre, but compared to other geniuses you weren’t much of a competition. Your job however, stressful as it was, was the only thing keeping you from ending up homeless on the street, so despite the exhaustion and anxiety-inducing environment, you pushed on. No need to add any more stress to the plate by trying to find someplace else to work.

And to top it all off, there was Johnny.

Letting out a breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding, you practically collapsed into your chair and wheeled yourself to your desk to drop all of the piles of unnecessarily complicated documents you’d need to get done. The moment you allowed yourself to get your shit together before you were back to working like a dog was likely the only chance you’d get to relax, so you took the opportunity to check your phone that had been consistently alerting you for the last 15 minutes.

7 missed calls from J 😘

5 unread messages from J 😘

2 voicemails from J 😘

Your face fell as you scrolled through your notifications bar, a mixture of guit and worry creeping up your neck.

Ever since the accident, you felt an extra need to be there for the man when he showed up late one night at your door, or rather halfway through it (damn those uncontrollable holes) crying that he had nowhere else to go. At least you assumed he would’ve been crying if he had a face to do so, but the tone of his voice was more than enough of an indicator. Prior to the incident, you two had a solid relationship going for years after meeting in the workplace, and to say that you were worried for him after hearing the news of what had happened while sitting at home waiting for him to return that night was an understatement.

He was gone for weeks, and just when you were starting to assume the worst he popped back up in your life in a completely new form. Your heart broke for him when he explained how everyone else had cast him out and how he’d been afraid to return to you out of fear that you’d do the same, and while you admit that seeing him like this took some getting used to, you weren’t going to abandon him too.

Ever since he’s mostly been hiding out in your apartment relying on you for all of his needs, as the few attempts to go out in public in a decent enough disguise didn’t go well, to say the least. You had noticed how he’d become far more reliant on you and clingy as a result, meaning multiple texts and calls a day whenever you were out of the house and he was left alone to his own devices. You tried to be as responsive as you could to avoid making him feel more alone (and because you knew he’d started to harbor some guilt for “leeching” off of you and being part of the reason you had to work more often and pay rent on your own), but sometimes your work duties got the better of you.

You opened the messages first.

J😘: Are you going to be working late again today? I want to plan something for you.

J😘: What do you think of the name, “The Spot”? That sounds menacing enough, right? I’m coming up with something big right now.

J😘: “Holeman” just doesn’t sound as cool, you know? I’ll work on it.

J😘: Sorry I know I’m texting a lot, are you busy?

J😘: I’m going out, might not be home when you make it.

That uneasy feeling settling in the pit of your stomach only intensified, and while the messages themselves weren’t exactly that worrying, something was telling you he was up to no good. And where was he going?

Your thumbs hovered over the screen for what felt like forever before you went to tap on the unopened voicemails.

“Hey babe, I know this is kind of out of the blue but I know how hard you’ve been working at Alchemax for us and I want to do something to repay you for it- just a way to say thank you I guess? I know what you said about not feeling guilty and everything but I really want to do this for you, you know I can’t keep living off of you and staying cooped up in that apartment forever- n-not that I’m ungrateful or anything! You do a lot for us, you did a lot for me and I’ll never be able to repay you for showing me that kindness when nobody else would.”

“I really needed that and I really need you. You’re sort of the only one I really have left, can’t risk losing that by leeching off of you forever, y’know? A-anyway, I saw that figure you’ve been eyeing from those ads, the really expensive one from that series you like? There’s that one gas station around the corner I used to go to that has an ATM, please don’t be mad, technically it’s bank money anyway and the government has plenty so I’m not really stealing from the gas station! I’m testing out my powers today. I’m getting the money for your figure today to surprise you with it! Wait- shit, it’s not a surprise if I’m telling you- oh god I’m rambling again, is there a way to delete this voicemail?! Hold on, wait-” Click.

Staring at your screen, you were unable to process the different emotions running your brain. You clicked the second voicemail.

“P.S., I love you Y/N~. I’ll talk to you later.”

You were left trying to decide whether to find the nearest bathroom before your coworkers caught you crying at the heartfelt message, frown at the idea of him still feeling as though he owes you when he, in fact doesn’t, or panicking when you realize that your boyfriend was about to attempt to rob a gas station for your sake. You chose the latter.

Jumping out of your seat, you went into a frenzy grabbing as many of your important belongings as you could and shoving them into a bag before you made a beeline for the doors and rushed out of your office, ignoring the concerned call outs from your coworkers asking where you were going and wondering whether or not you were going to finish your work for the day.

Alchemax became the least of your concerns, sending your manager a quick text letting her know you were leaving early on the account of an emergency as you raced down the speed walking faster than you probably ever had in his life.

‘Had he already left? What was he thinking?!’

Now it was your turn to spam him with call after call, silently begging the universe to make him pick up but to no avail.

Suddenly your apartment seemed 10 times farther than it normally did during your walks home from work despite your rush, managing to bump into multiple people as you pushed your way through the crowds, which was met by curses shouted at you, complaints, and a few threats that you could only hope would be tamed by the quick apologies you shouted in return.

You were probably mid journey home when your run came to a screeching halt as the tv stationed outside of a pawn shop caught your news. Spider-Man’s latest fight was being broadcasting through the few clips reporters were able to catch during the escapade, showing the many damages left behind and from the chaotic battle, but it wasn’t the iconic vigilante that caught your attention, it was the headline.

“Spider-Man’s latest battle against a new foe, ‘The Spot’, causes city-wide destruction! Who is this new villain on the streets and what’s his motive?”

Your mind seemed to pull you back to just minutes earlier when you were sitting in the lab, reading his messages.

“What do you think of the name, ‘The Spot’? That sounds menacing enough, right?”

Not only was Johnathan an idiot for trying to rob a gas station, he was stupid enough to get caught by Spider-Man!

If not for your unconditional love your your boyfriend and knowledge that he was once a brilliant scientist, you would’ve questioned how you ended up with such a clumsy fool.

This was further confirmed when you returned to racing to your apartment, only for your attention to be grabbed as a familiar black hole opened up above the street and citizens gasped as they caught sight of Spider-Man falling through the hole, followed up by the current criminal, and your boyfriend. His lack of facial features would argue against it, but you could swear that you made eye contact as his head turned to you and the gaping black hole where his face should be met your eyes before both men disappeared into the parallel hole that opened on the ground and it closed behind them. If looks could kill, Johnathan would be far more than six feet under.

For what felt like an eternity you stood there, the shock being enough to paralyze you and leave you glued to the sidewalk. When you snapped back into it, your palm came up to your face and you groaned in frustration, but wasted no time groveling over the situation. There was no point in trying to get home now, instead trying to figure out his location by what was being shown on the news. That was pretty hard to do, however, when he couldn’t control where the fight kept popping up in the city.

It wasn’t until a few minutes and about 50 missed calls later when the dial tone finally ceased and he picked up the phone, long after the news station seemingly lost track of the fight. You almost forgot to speak before the realization set it and you deeply inhaled.

“…before you get mad-”

“JOHNATHAN OHMMS I SWEAR TO GOD if you had ANY idea how much I want to strangle you right now-!”

“I know I know, I’m sorry, look-!”

“A gas station? ARE YOU INSANE?! You know better than this! How could you be so reckless! What were you thinking?!”

“-I wasn’t planning on getting caught-”

“And fighting Spider-Man?! You could’ve gone to jail, you could’ve gotten hurt, or worse! What was I going to do then?!”

“I get it! I’m sorry, I swear! It was a bad idea I screwed up, I’ve never robbed anyone before-”

“I’d hope not!”

Taking a second, you lowered your voice and ducked into an empty looking alley so no one could hear your fussing, pinching the bridge of your nose and forcing yourself to calm down. Clearly he already knew he screwed up and the guilt in his voice made your heartache, you weren’t going to keep chastising him for something he regretted when he’d already suffered the consequences. Wait-

“Hold on, Johnny, where are you? And why do you sound so far from your phone?”

You heard a nervous chuckle from the other end of the line, where the portal that had his hand with his phone floated at least a good 10 feet from his face.

“Okay, funny story right? You’re going to laugh, I haven’t been arrested yet-” oh god. “But Spider-Man may have left me in a bit of a tight spot.”

You swore listening to Johnathan explain how he’d been webbed up in a multitude of his own holes thanks to the webbed hero and describing the building in hopes you’d help it out made you swear you’d grow grey hairs in that very moment, but you couldn’t focus on the absurdity when your main concern was getting your boyfriend back.

“-and now I’m sort of stuck and can touch my head with my right foot.”

“Johnny.”

“…yes, Y/N?”

“You’re very lucky I love you.”

He made a noise equivalent to a sigh that was mixed with relief and guilt.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again. We’ll talk later, I’m on my way.”

“This why I love you~”

[writerscall]

i cannot be your friend, so i pay the price of what i lost. and what it cost now that we don't talk.

because pushing her away was easier than having to stomach seeing her be with someone else.

author's note/s: 1k words. this is part one of a series. close friends to sad strangers to surprise college roommates is a trope, right?

Ignoring Hazel for the rest of the year wasn’t an easy decision or any easy thing to do. You two weren’t attached at the hip but you were such good friends that even the people who didn’t really talk to either of you eventually asked if you two had a falling out. We’re both just pretty busy at this time of senior year, you’d tell them; you had no idea what Hazel’s answer was to that, and you didn’t wanna know. It hurt you to ice her out but after what happened at the game, you just couldn’t be around her. Not when it was clear that PJ was in the picture like that.

Really, you should’ve been happy for her. You were one of the first people she came out to and even though she never explicitly said it, you knew she wanted to experience one relationship, or even a sort of fling, before high school ended. But your wishful thinking that it could’ve been the two of you in the end like some cliche really was just that — wishful thinking. That kiss and the way she and PJ acted around each other after said it all.

So you blocked it all out. Joined some clubs to fill up your schedule and actually make you as busy as you said you were, focused on academics like never before, got closer to other friends (for obvious reasons but also, why the hell not? It was senior year and you might not see some of them again). Overall, there were pros to what you decided to do about your crush on Hazel Callahan. You were making the most out of a sucky situation.

What you weren’t proud of was deciding to go out with the baseball team’s captain on a whim, and then agreeing to really date him after. He was nice and was a pretty good boyfriend, but you weren’t as into him as he was into you. But that was the least of your concerns throughout that relationship that inevitably came to an end as graduation neared.

You’ll never forget the complicated look on her face the day he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek at your locker. You’ll never forget the ‘Can we talk now? Please?’ text she sent that night, her last attempt at reaching out before she took to ignoring you too.

And that was it. Hazel wasn’t part of your senior year until its end and you assumed it would be the same for the rest of your life, or at least for a long, long time.

But the universe just loved playing cruel tricks sometimes.

“Okay, you’re sure you’ve got everything? Those new notebooks, your writing materials, enough bras and pa—”

“Okay, mom!” You cut her off with a nervous laugh, silently thanking god that your roommate and whoever was helping her move in hadn’t arrived yet. “I’ve got it all, I promise. It’s okay for you to go now.”

Your mother sighs as she reaches out to give your arm a squeeze, and after a few more pointers for your first day and about five ‘you can always give us a call for anything’ reminders, you were alone. You smile to yourself as you look at your fixed up side of the dorm, jittery in a good sense. Everyone said college was different from high school in the best way and you were determined to make it so. Even though you knew how much busier and hectic life would get with university level academics.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t hear the door open. It’s only when that painfully familiar voice says your name that you snap out of it.

Hazel Callahan, practically the same as ever, standing in the doorway with her luggages and a duffel bag across her body. She manages a smile, small and hesitant. To your surprise, all you can say is, “You’re my roommate?”

Her face twitches in disappointment, smile faltering noticeably. You didn’t mean for that to come off the way it clearly did but the question escaped you before you could think. Of all the people in the world — or even just of all the people in high school, it just had to be her? You were over Hazel. You’d tried so hard and honestly haven’t thought about her much at all since graduation.

Only for all that effort to feel like it was undone within seconds. Fantastic.

“Trust me, I… I didn’t know this would be the arrangement. My mom’s got an old friend here who could probably do a room switch for one of us — I mean, for me I guess, you’ve already got your side of the room fixed up while I’m still all packed, so—”

You put a hand up to stop her. “Hazel, it’s fine. We can share this room. All that stuff from…” You let the sentence trail off and clear your throat. “I mean, it doesn’t matter anymore, it never really has.”

Though expecting her to brighten even slightly at your attempt at an olive branch, her expression stays the same. Complicated actually, like the one she had upon seeing you and your (short-lived) senior year boyfriend for the first time in school. You try not to think about it.

“Anyway, I’ve got some things to go check with the registrar’s office, so I’ll get out of your hair so you can unpack and all that.” There was nothing to check with at the registrar’s office, but you needed to find some place that wasn’t your dorm to pull yourself together. Or maybe scream.

There’s a look of understanding on her face but shakes her head at you. “You wouldn’t be in the way. We could use this time to catch up. It’s been a long while, you know?”

Well, you certainly weren’t ready for that, so you just say something about wanting to get to the office while it wasn’t too busy yet. You cast her a side glance with a smile that you really hoped didn’t look forced or fake as you watch her bring in her things, then make a beeline for the door. 

But you stop when she asks, “Hey, um, maybe we can sit with each other at the orientation tomorrow?”

“Uh… yeah, sure.” And you knew that didn’t sound forced or fake with the way Hazel almost grins at you.

Yeah, you really needed to find a place to scream somewhere on campus.

[ahummingbirdwitch]

Fantasize (Cypher x F!Reader)

Summary: After a long day, you find yourself in need of some relief, and who better to fantasize about than the agent you're crushing on?

Pairing: Cypher x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,639

Warnings: female masturbation, vaginal fingering, sexual fantasy, p in v sex, voyeurism

Notes: Welp. The masked man wormed his way into my brain and made me write this. I've never played Valorant and I'm not super well-versed on the lore, but I did my best to work off of what I know and existing theories about Cypher and his past!

I fantasize about it all the time

If you were mine

I’d give this pussy to you 9 to 5

5 to 9…

~ ~ ~

You collapsed onto your bed, exhausted.

Freshly showered and sore from a hard day’s work, nothing sounded better than curling up in your quiet room and getting some well-deserved rest. And, if you were being honest, there was something else you’d been meaning to do; something that could very well relieve you the most—and calm your restless mind.

For the last month since you’d joined Valorant, you’d met many agents, each one captivating in their own right. But one agent in particular had captivated you the most.

Cypher.

The masked man from Morocco, the information broker whose face had never been seen by anyone in the agency. Every agent in Valorant had secrets, but Cypher had the most by far. He was enigmatic, impossibly clever, and seemed to know everything about everyone. He’d known you by name before you’d even introduced yourself to him, and in the short time you’d been with the agency, you’d become more than familiar with his ways—the little things he remembered about others, the watchful eye he kept on his fellow agents. No one knew anything about him other than his real name—Amir El-Amari—and his unwillingness to reveal his identity to anyone.

He was a complete mystery, and he had drawn you in completely.

You remembered your first meeting with him clearly. He’d been standing to one side of the room, nonchalant with arms folded, and said your full name before you’d spoken it yourself. You’d been stunned at first, but before you could turn accusatory, he had laughed. “I’m sorry,” he’d said, his voice softening. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He had then uncrossed his arms enough to wave to you with one hand. Despite the mask that concealed his features, the look on his face had seemed almost gentle. “I am Cypher. Pleased to meet you.”

Your initial shock had faded, replaced with something else—something you couldn’t quite understand at the time, something that made your heart thrum unexpectedly in your chest. And that strange feeling, you’d realize in the coming weeks, would only grow stronger.

On missions, you were often put on the same team as Cypher, and you’d come to know him more than you thought you would. At least, you’d come to know the side he showed to others. He was polite, easygoing, frequently cracking jokes and making fun wherever he could. He liked to stimulate his brain, particularly with chess and gadgeteering. He kept a level head in times of crisis, acting as a leader when necessary. He always had the team’s back, and, perhaps surprisingly, he was kind.

It would’ve been easy for you to write him off as a trickster, a spy who cared for no one but himself, who had no regard for anyone’s privacy. While it was true that he knew more than he should, and sometimes intruded on his allies’ personal lives, you’d learned quickly that he was not an uncaring man—far from it, in fact. He was never rude or crass. His jokes had no cruelty behind them. He was an attentive listener, occasionally even providing advice. It was clear he had boundaries, and there were lines he would never cross, despite his line of work.

You’d wondered endlessly about his past. There was so much about himself he kept hidden, so much you wanted desperately to know. What kind of life had he known before joining the agency? How could he be so secretive, yet so considerate? What kind of pain had he experienced? Had he had a family before? Who was Nora?

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the present. There were so many questions you wished you could ask him, but you knew he would never answer them. He was a mystery, one you might never unravel.

In spite of all that, though, you’d fallen for him.

It wasn’t wise to have feelings for your fellow agent, especially one like Cypher, but there was no denying it, and no helping it. Your heart jumped whenever he entered a room, and fluttered at the sound of his voice. You went out of your way just to try and impress him on missions, always keeping as close to him as you could. You savored those brief moments where your eyes would lock with his, or his hand might make contact with yours when passing you a weapon. Your spirit soared whenever you made him laugh, and you were always thinking of all the ways you could make him do it again.

It was probably the hardest you’d ever crushed on someone, and it was torture.

It was bad enough you both worked together, but on top of that, you were sure Cypher would never want you. He would never reveal his identity to anyone, let alone you. He was older, and had been with the agency far longer. He was always busy, caught up in an assignment or working away at something alone in his room. And then there was Nora, a name you’d heard him utter once or twice under his breath. Curious, you’d asked around about her; some agents theorized she was his wife, either dead or simply no longer around. There was no way you could know for certain, but whoever she was, it was clear he was still hung up on her.

You closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You didn’t want to think about any of that. Right now, you just needed to let go.

Climbing under the covers, you laid back against your pillow, then carefully slid your panties down to your ankles. Spreading your legs, you lifted one hand, guiding it tentatively between them. You swallowed, feeling the same anxiety you’d felt the last time you’d done this. This still felt so dirty, so wrong, but when you pictured Cypher in your mind, blue eyes glowing against the black of his mask, you felt yourself start to relax. You rarely did this, but tonight, you needed it.

Slowly, you eased your hand lower, and let your imagination take control.

You were pressed back against a wall, Cypher standing over you. You couldn’t read his expression, but the desire in his voice betrayed his emotions. “I want you,” he murmured, gazing down at you. “Right now.”

Your fingers found your entrance, already slick from just those few words. Biting your lip, you teased your slit.

Cypher brought his hand to your face, stroking your lower lip with a gloved thumb. You opened your mouth for him instinctively, and he chuckled. “I want to kiss you,” he said softly. “May I?”

You nodded without question. “Y-Yes.”

His eyes gleamed. With his free hand, he reached for the bottom of his mask, pulling it up just enough to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips curled into a smirk, then he was moving forward and kissing you all at once.

Your thumb brushed your clit, and you began to rub at it, continuing to tease your opening with your fingers.

Cypher’s kiss was shockingly fierce, and utterly mind-numbing. Moving his hands to your waist, he slipped his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the gasp that rose from your throat. You met his tongue with your own, kissing him back with matching fervor.

Thumb still working your clit, you dipped the tip of one finger inside your entrance. You needed more; you needed to speed this up.

In the blink of an eye, Cypher had unzipped your pants and pushed them down. Trailing kisses down your neck, he used his fingers—inexplicably ungloved—to caress your clothed pussy. “Oh, what’s that?” he said with interest. “Seems someone is wet for me.”

You grasped at his coat. “Cypher. Please.”

You felt him grin against your neck. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he purred. “I know what you want.” Slowly, deliberately, he slid one finger under the hem of your panties, then plunged it inside you.

At the same time, you parted your folds with your own finger, pushing it in deep. You let out a soft moan when you curled it inside you, finding that familiar sweet spot.

Cypher sucked on your ear, pumping his finger in and out of you. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “What pretty sounds.”

You whimpered.

“Make some more for me.”

You moaned louder, unable to stop yourself.

“Dirty girl,” he teased. “So wet already and I’ve barely started.”

You clenched around your finger. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of your pleasure muffled only slightly by the covers. Just as you prepared to add a second finger, you decided to speed things along once more.

You were completely naked now, while Cypher was still clothed (you realized you’d never seen even a hint of his skin, but that didn’t matter). His pants undone at the waist, he hoisted you up by your thighs, hitching them around him as he pressed into you. “Come here,” he growled before pushing inside you swiftly.

You arched your back, grinding against your palm as you fingered yourself, imagining it was his cock spearing you open. How big was he? Fuck, he had to be big. Even if he wasn’t, though, you wouldn’t care. You just wanted him. You needed him.

Cypher groaned into your ear, starting slow with his thrusts, then fucking up into you like an animal. “So tight,” he gasped. “Oh, so tight for me.”

You were moaning more than ever now, losing yourself to the feeling of being full. You wished you could hear him moan with you, feel his body on yours. You wanted to kiss those lips. See his face. He was so handsome under that mask, you were sure of it.

Cypher bit down on your neck, forcing you to cry out. “Yes, that’s it,” he coaxed when he came up for air. “That’s it, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

You threw your head back, moans falling from your open mouth. “Cy… Cypher…”

“Call me by my name, my love.”

Your body jerked, reacting to his voice in a way you couldn’t even control. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “A-Amir, please—”

“Just like that,” he whispered, gripping your thighs harder. “Yes. I know you’re close.”

You were. Two fingers knuckle-deep and your thumb at your clit, you were ready to burst. Just a little more, and you’d be right there, right there. “A-Amir,” you pleaded. “I—I need you—”

“I need you to cum,” he panted. “Can you do that for me? Hm?”

“Mm—mhm,” was all you could get out, ferociously rubbing at your clit. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything right now. These walls weren’t thin, but you wouldn’t give a shit if they were. You didn’t even care if Cypher himself had mics in your walls, and he could hear every sound you were making. You just needed him. You needed to cum.

Cypher leaned in, panting like a dog, thrusting into you even harder and faster. “Cum for me,” he breathed. “Cum for me now.”

That was all you needed. The cord within you snapped and your vision went starry. You shut your eyes as you came, whining uncontrollably. “Cy—Cypher,” you blurted out, moaning long and loud. You couldn’t stop the words from escaping you. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

You continued to moan as you rode out your orgasm, keeping your fingers still deep inside while your body spasmed with pleasure. By the time you could feel yourself calming, the trembling in your limbs fading to a dull buzz, you were unsure how much time had passed. You felt utterly numb, your heart racing and your chest heaving as you caught your breath.

You exhaled, leaning back against your pillow. You did feel better. Touching yourself to the thought of Cypher had brought you relief—just like you’d wanted. There was still a part of you that felt guilt, felt dirty at what you’d done, but you suppressed it.

No one knew, and no one would know. Cypher kept so many secrets, why couldn’t you keep this one for yourself?

You got up and washed your hands, then brushed your teeth and returned to bed. You nestled deep under the covers, closing your eyes as you prepared for sleep to take you. You’d worked hard today. You deserved to rest.

As you drifted off, you completely forgot that you’d confessed your love to the Cypher in your mind.

~~~

Elsewhere, in a secluded room in the dormitory, Cypher was wide awake.

Unmasked, and dressed only in light clothes, he sat at his desk in the darkness, watching the cameras as he did every night. There was a single camera for each Valorant agent, along with its own mic and recording device, positioned in the most secure, hidden place possible in every individual room. He recognized the invasiveness of it. He didn’t take pleasure in keeping tabs on his allies in this way, but it was necessary. He would do all he could to ensure he kept the upper hand, even if it meant spying on those he considered his friends. He had been through too much to let anyone take advantage of him.

For some time now, he had been scanning the cameras, studying each agent as they wound down for the night, and something in particular had caught his eye.

You.

You, coming out of your bathroom in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. The moment he’d noticed you in your state of undress, he’d averted his gaze, waiting for you to either leave the frame or cover yourself up. When you’d finally crawled into bed, he’d been content to turn his attention to other screens, but then your mic had picked up some… telling audio.

You’d started to touch yourself.

Cypher was not a stranger to the female body. He’d been with women, been married to one. Countless times, he’d been at his desk and witnessed female agents—and male agents, for that matter—masturbate. Whenever it happened, he always turned away, often shutting off their mics as well to at least give them some extra privacy. Some agents did it more frequently than others, and he had even grown accustomed to their routines for it. But you…

Well… you didn’t do it very often, that was for certain.

You were new to the agency. Young, spry, full of confidence. When he’d first met you, he was sure he knew exactly what you’d be like. He knew your type—hell, plenty of the better-established younger agents were just like you. But in all honesty, in the month since your arrival, he’d learned there was more to you than met the eye. He was surprised to still be peeling back layers of your personality even now, when normally, he would have had someone thoroughly pinned down. There was always new information to be drawn from others, yes, but even so, you continued to intrigue him.

Cypher had heard you touch yourself only once or twice before; only faint noises coming from your bathroom had made him aware of the act. He’d been certain that the next time you did it, you would do it in the same place, but for some reason, you had chosen your bed instead tonight. As was your right, certainly. But regardless, he had not been expecting it.

He’d shut off your mic without thinking, lingering on the image of you in your bed for just a heartbeat before quickly tearing his eyes away. There was something about this that unsettled him, made him uncomfortable in a way that was unfamiliar. There was nothing unnatural to him about masturbation; he did it himself, when he was most in need of it. But something about seeing you do it—you, his sweet, sincere teammate—made him feel almost… ashamed. Like he was violating you.

He understood the necessity of keeping an eye on the agency, knowing he could never fully turn off the cameras in the rooms, but for whatever reason, he wished he could turn yours off now, at least for a little while. He didn’t want to see you in such a vulnerable state. He didn’t want to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory, imagine what sounds you could be making…

Cypher rubbed his eyes now, blinking rapidly as he cleared his thoughts. He had to focus. He had to make sure everyone was asleep before he too allowed himself to rest. He would wait until you finished.

But then… how could he be sure when you would finish if he couldn’t hear you?

A strange feeling nagging at him, he turned back to your screen. Though your lower body was concealed by your covers, he could see your movements underneath, and could see clearly what you were doing. No doubt, you were fingering yourself.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He kept watching, unable to look away from your mouth, ever opening and closing. You were still muted, but he didn’t need audio to know you were moaning. Of course you were. Everyone did when they self-pleasured. But then, unexpectedly, he saw you form a word.

No—a name.

A name? Whose name? Questions flooded his mind. If you were uttering someone’s name in this state, did that mean you had… feelings for them? Was it an agent? Was it someone on the outside?

Cypher tried not to dwell on it. This was your business; your moment of privacy. It didn’t matter to him whether you had feelings for someone, agent or not. It was nothing. It was just—information. Useless information—right?

But then again, if he had it… maybe he could use it.

Before he could change his mind, he turned the audio back on. A second later, his heart dropped when he heard you moan out.

“Cy… Cypher…”

He froze, staring at your screen. No, it couldn’t be…

“A-Amir… A-Amir, please—”

Cypher couldn’t believe his ears. It was… him. It was him you were crying out for. You’d even said his real name—he’d never heard you say it out loud before.

He didn’t understand. You wanted him? Why? Out of everyone in Valorant, why him?

Had he missed something, all those times he had gone on missions with you? He had noticed your enthusiasm when in proximity to him, your noteworthy eagerness to follow his orders, but he had never considered it out of the ordinary. He had always just thought of you as a dutiful agent, eager to prove yourself and gain respect from your more seasoned teammates. Was that not the case? Was the truth that you’d been interested in him all this time?

Your voice severed him from his trance. “A-Amir,” you whimpered. “I—I need you—”

Cypher shifted in his seat, a sudden discomfort between his legs. His name sounded foreign your lips, and yet… sweet. He’d never thought he’d hear you say it, but more than that, hear you say you needed him. You couldn’t mean that. You weren’t thinking—too caught up in your own pleasure. You couldn’t possibly know what you were saying.

He could tell you were getting more desperate now, your hand moving faster under the covers. You had to be close. You gasped, shutting your eyes, then all at once you were coming undone, and he couldn’t look away.

“Cy—Cypher,” you cried out, catching him off-guard. “I love—I-I love you—I—mm—”

Cypher could hardly think as he watched you unravel before him on the screen, your words ringing in his ears.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The only explanation was that you had lost yourself. Why else would you say something as bold as that without thinking? You didn’t love him. You couldn’t love him.

There was nothing about him you could possibly want. He guarded his secrets more fiercely than anyone. He was so reserved, staying out of the limelight whenever he could. He’d kept his identity hidden for years, carefully cultivating the persona he would allow people to see. You’d never even seen his face.

And yet… it was his name you’d uttered when you came. It seemed you had fallen for him anyway.

No. No… you hadn’t. It wasn’t possible. You didn’t want him, and you certainly didn’t love him. Love was knowing someone, knowing all of their secrets and foulest parts. It was something deep and potent, and only grew with time. It was what he’d had with Nora, before he’d lost her and everything else.

You had not been in your right mind, that much was certain. Maybe you liked him, liked the person he presented himself as, but you didn’t know him. No one did, and no one truly would. He liked you, but… well, not like that. How could he? He was a broken old man, and you were young and lovely, still with hope for the world…

No. No, that wasn’t right.

It didn’t matter. You would go to sleep now, drowsy in the aftermath of your climax, and so would he. You would not remember your confession in the morning. He would, but he would not let it consume him.

This was… nothing. He was sure of it.

Cypher began to rise from his chair, only to be made aware of the painful hardness in his pants. He grimaced, looking back up at your camera. You were wrapped up in your covers, already asleep. You looked so innocent. Peaceful.

… Beautiful.

He hung his head, running one hand through his hair. Oh, sweet girl, he thought. What are you doing to me?

(LET ME KNOW IF Y'ALL WANT A PART 2)

[metal-berry]

RWBY die-hards are so funny tbh. They spent the past five years deliberately and vehemently gatekeeping the fndm to a ridiculously high degree, doing things like gloating that they were "purging" the fndm of all but the show's most ardent worshipers, launching vicious smear campaigns against anyone and everyone who said even the mildest bit of criticism and slinging baseless accusations of "sexism" and "homophobia" against them (even though an overwhelming majority of their targets have been queer or women or both, while an overwhelming majority of RWBY's creative team have been straight men with histories of open misogyny and queerphobia) they've bullied fan-artists off every platform, they've sent hate mail, death threats, rape threats, slurs, they've literally posted long lists of "rules" they expect fans to follow "or else" (and the rules include things like "you must fiercely advocate for my favorite ship" and "you must love my favorite characters and hate my least favorites" and "No AU's or Fix-it fics allowed" and then if anyone is caught breaking these "rules" they get labeled as "the HTDM" and viciously smeared and bullied out of the fndm, they've deliberately sought out popular fanworks and started viciously smearing and harassing the fan creators while gloating "if you criticize the product sold by a corporation, we get to coordinate cyberbullying campaigns against you as an individual artist who makes fanart for free, because those are totally the same thing in our minds so you deserve it!!!" They've swarmed YouTubers like penguinz0 or Hbomberguy and harassed them with death threats and accused them of "trying to kill rwby" (as if it couldn't possibly have anything to do with 1. Rooster Teeth being a horrifically abusive and bigoted company that every decent person decided to stop supporting, 2. "CRWBY" being comprised of and run by Rooster Teeth bigwigs including four of the five founding fathers of the company and several department heads, many of whom have open histories of extreme bigotry themselves, which bled into the show and caused extreme bigotry to be baked into the writing itself, and 3. *this exact fandom*, all of which together are enough of a poison itself, to the point where having a couple of youtubers say "so this isn't a good mix" was never going to actually affect viewership NEARLY as much as the Corporation and Fandom were already doing) and also can we talk about the horrific amounts of biphobia that gets leveled against the people who ship Blake with literally ANYONE other than Yang and ship Yang with literally ANYONE other than Yang?? Because my god the biphobia that exists within the Die-Hards in this fandom is off the fucking charts. The amount of specifically bisexual fans who have been viciously attacked because they did not list bumblby among all the queer ships they liked. The amount of times I've seen people say things like "the only reason anyone likes BlackSun is if they're homophobic" when a lot of BlackSun shippers are openly bi and ship them as a bi-for-bi ship. The amount of times I've seen people say things like "the only reason anyone PRETENDS to like Freezerburn is if they're trying to shove Yang with a random girl so they can force Blake to date a stinky MAN while using Yang and Weiss as shields to protect themselves from being caught as the homophobes they really are." The amount of times I've seen people attack fans who ship Blake with Ilia or Ruby or Nora, or fans who ship Yang with Pyrrha or Neon or Nora, because it *does not matter* if you actively ship a hundred queer rwby ships and write hundreds of fics about it and draw endless fanart of it, if you say "eh I personally just don’t care for Blake X Yang" or even if you say "I used to be a hard-core bumblby shipper but the way the writers chose to execute it left a lot to be desired and turned me off the ship" you get labeled a "Sexist Homophobe" and violently abused and bullied. It's fucking disgraceful, it's NO WONDER this fandom is fucking dead

When a fandom: a) posts strict rules detailing exactly which interpretations, headcanons, character opinions, and ships are REQUIRED in order to be considered "not a hater," b) viciously attacks and harasses every single person on the internet who does not follow those strict rules and labels them a "hater" because of it, c) slings baseless and despicable accusations of "sexism" and "homophobia" against these so-called "haters," because apparently they're too ignorant to pick up a dictionary and learn that "criticizing rwby" is not included in the definition of those words, while also completely ignoring or even *denying* the fact that most of their targets are queer women and most of our complaints are that *rwby is textbook sexist and homophobic and RACIST AND ABLEIST and was created and almost entirely written by openly sexist and homophobic and racist and ableist men, and you actually kind of have to have failed Progressivism 101 in order to not see it,* d) engages in open bigotry themselves by attacking marginalized people to punish them for condemning bigotry while using bigoted slurs and dogwhistles against them, and e) deliberately "purges" the fandom of every single fanartist, fanfic writer, theorist, meta analyst poster, or even shit-poster who DARED to express an opinion that didn't conform to the "rules" and therefore got labeled a "bigoted hater" who "laid down with the dogs" and was "guilty by association..."

The fandom dwindles away to nothing, and dies

And then the last remaining Die-Hards who got their wish and "purged" the fandom of everybody whose opinions did not 100% align with theirs, get all pissy whenever they see somebody like you acknowledge the empty void left behind

The fandom got so militant and zealous with their gatekeeping that there's just nobody left anymore, except for the few who turned Worshiping RWBY into a cult and violently kicked out everyone who didn't conform - but they consider that to be a "victory" so they attack every new straggler who walks into the vast empty field and says "there used to be a fandom here."

That post that was made five years ago about how it was time for the mega-stans to "purge the fndm" of everyone who didn't conform to THEIR view of the show? Yeah lol well they succeeded and I hope they're happy with their echo-chamber of circle-jerking Yes-Men who have been throwing all their hard-earned money at bigots and abusers while crying about the uncertain future of the show they turned into their identity, and I hope one day they realize that THEY contributed to Rooster Teeth's downfall far more than the critics ever did

Because fandom has historically thrived on diversity of opinion, including the allowance of criticism and the celebration of fanworks

So when a culty subsection of the fandom decrees that freedom of expression is WRONG and differing opinions are WRONG and writing fanfiction they don't like is WRONG and drawing fanart they don't like is WRONG and shipping ships they don't like is WRONG and not shipping the ships they do like is WRONG and liking characters they dislike is WRONG and disliking the characters they do like is WRONG and criticizing the corporation behind the product is WRONG and holding the product creators accountable for their hateful and ignorant beliefs is WRONG and choosing to withhold our money from those who have been proven to be abusive bigots is WRONG and therefore demanding change instead of letting them keep getting away with everything is WRONG, and so they are so totally justified in their efforts to deliberately cyberstalk, harass, and bully the "Arrogant, Entitled, Ungrateful" non-conformists until they've driven everybody away...

The fandom dies

And there's nobody left to BUY THE PRODUCT

*shocked Pikachu face* that RT went belly-up???

The Die-Hard Mega-Stans are the ones that killed RWBY. That's why they're so desperate to point fingers and bitterly curse the names of all the fans they deliberately ORDERED to "Stop Watching," "Stop Posting," "Stop talking," "Stop Writing," "Stop Drawing," "Stop BUYING," and that's why they're so fucking ANGRY every time they see proof that their mass gatekeeping, mass cyberbullying, mass smearing campaigns WORKED.

The fandom is dead because they fucking drowned it on purpose, and they refuse to admit that fact to themselves

What else can they do but lash out?

What else is there to say? You nailed it. I was there in the very beginning when the fandom was thriving and I watched the wasps slowly kill it. I remember all the creative au’s and how even rarepairs got content. It’s not even a husk of its former self, it’s crumbled dust.

[bbraespam]

Raven said that it took her a whole year to stop hating Beast Boy? I mean do you suppose it means the team knew each other between the events on Go! and Nevermore? I mean in Raven’s mindscape she actually believed Beast Boy didn’t like her and vice versa.

Actually, I thought things went pretty well. Took me a year to stop hating Beast Boy. -Raven to Terra in Titan Rising

What happened between Go! and Divide and Conquer is a question that will live in my brain for all time, so let's talk about it!

So, my interpretation of Raven's line there is that it places Nevermore approximately a year after the events of Go!. (And I recommend taking a look through my Beast Boy vs Creepy tag for an idea of my thesis here. (mobile link))

In Go!, Raven and Beast Boy get along surprisingly well for how we see them by Divide and Conquer. What I think happened is this:

Beast Boy's discomfort over Raven's dark energy powers came up at least once again, probably more, and Raven interpreted this as Beast Boy rejecting her as creepy. So she started icing him out, and taking any of his attempts at humor towards her as him being fake. In return, Beast Boy got frustrated because he does tentatively like her as a person and has been trying to befriend her, but at the same time is unsettled by her powers that he doesn't understand (in that scene, if he was really truly scared of/didn't trust her, he wouldn't be literally reaching out).

That's why by Nevermore (about a year after they initially met) they're both operating under the erroneous assumption that the other one doesn't like them. I think Raven later framing that period as "hating Beast Boy" is a bit of a defense mechanism over how rejected she felt. After all, she was plenty nice to him whenever he was real with her and wasn't putting on that jokester front.

To answer the other part of your question, which sounds like it's about how long the Titans have been a team pre-Season 1? I'd put it at only a couple months since they've officially been in the tower and operating as a team. The early episodes of S1 feel like they've been a group for long enough to be mostly comfortable working together as an established team, but not long enough to really know each other on a personal level yet—Robin and Cyborg already have a coordinated move, but either the team's never gone out to pizza together or haven't yet gone enough that anyone knows each other's orders or Star's gotten a look at the menu.

(a couple extra thoughts under the cut)

For ideas about how the team formed:

After Go! they seem to be at least temporarily separating. It feels easy to assume that some of them started using that communicator to call each other up post-Go! once they ran into trouble they couldn't handle alone (was it Beast Boy, who was really hurting for friends and somewhere to belong? Cyborg, who wanted to keep his neighborhood safe? Star, who'd just gotten a taste of niceness and liked it? Raven, who wanted to do some good for the world before her father showed up? Robin... I think is least likely, despite him having a hand in making the communicators. He'd be there if asked in a heartbeat, but I see him having trouble admitting he needed help)

After a few times it becomes clear that not only could they do some real good together, but most of them could use some housing help. (After all, the only one who seems to be native to Jump City is Cyborg, and maybe even that is somewhere he moved away from his dad post-accident? Everyone else seems to have just drifted into town). So forming a team and moving in together is a perfect solution for everyone. (Maybe the city asks them formally to stick around? is there even a mayor here who's running this town shh not important)

Nevermore's narrative function

One interesting thing I didn't fully notice until just now looking at the episode list, but Season 1 uses the plot of character-disagrees-with-Raven-and-they-learn-to-understand-each-other as great excuses for displaying the characters of (almost*) each of the main cast, in Nevermore, Switched, and Car Trouble. (Notable because not every pair on the team gets an episode focused on their relationship, only sooort of BB & Star in Forces of Nature, and Cyborg & Robin in D&C, but those plots are much less focused on the characters opening up to each other than the Raven ones.)

(*Robin's the only one who doesn't get one, which I think is due to this being his season. Every "Robin" ep in S1 needs to advance the overarching plot, which doesn't really leave time for Robin-and-Raven-have-a-wacky-self-contained-adventure. It also just doesn't seem necessary, since he gets plenty of time for both his character and relationships in those episodes.)

[whiskeynwriting]

i love ghost x bones ... will there be a part 3? ☺️

Not a part 3 but definitely a continuation of their relationship

In Plain Sight

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones” 

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Word Count: 4.6k 

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Established relationship, public sex (caught in the act), unprotected vaginal sex, size kink, tiny bits of violence, possessive Simon, spanking

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A/N: I. Loved. This.

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

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Hiding your relationship isn’t nearly as dull as you thought it’d be. You assumed this would be an easy thing, it’s not like you see the entire team at once, at least, not often. Plus, there aren’t that many people on base, so you figured it would be easy to sneak around. But it’s almost like, on a subconscious level, everybody knew. 

As soon as your relationship began, everyone was around more. The boys all started hanging out in the medical room, cracking jokes and smoking until it got late. When they went out, they’d stay at the bars until midnight at least, dragging Ghost along with them. Even returning from missions, they wouldn't leave Ghost be. In the medical room, in the barracks, in the washrooms, they were always by him. Like fucking flies, they were impossible to get rid of, as of late. 

It made things extremely difficult for you and Ghost, your relationship was really suffering from it. And what made it worse was that you didn’t even have a phone number to call or text. Everywhere you wanted to hug him, hold him, touch him, was occupied by his team. At times, you wondered if Ghost would just rather say fuck it, it was fun while it lasted. But you know that isn’t the case. Every time you pass him, he gives you a knowing glance, looking you over before lifting his attention to your eyes. He still came to see you occasionally, claiming to have pulled a muscle or something else superficial. But you’d have only seconds before the boys came in. Still, it was nice to know he was still there, that he still cared. 

“Ready for a long day, lass?”

Chuckling, you raise an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean, Johnny?”

He’s sweaty, the wetness dripping down the side of his forehead and making his shirt dark from the dampness. His breathing is off, too. They’d just come back from the interior gym. 

“Price is runnin’ us pretty hard today. We’ll be here late.” He sends you a wink, patting the table beside your desk. The one Ghost laid on when you’d patched up his stab wound. “And that means, you’ll be here late, too.” 

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

“Maybe come to the pubs with us afterward?” It’s posed more so as a question than an overt offer, and it makes you grin. Sometimes, Soap was shy when he flirted. 

Nodding, you return with a gentle, “Maybe.”

You haven’t gone out with the team at all, let alone since you started fucking Ghost. But who knows, maybe you could tonight. You’re feeling extra desperate for him, lately. You just want to be around him, sit in his comforting presence. He makes you feel safe, cared for, warm. 

This new knowledge excites you, though. With the boys coming up to the outdoor gym, not only will you be able to see Ghost in passing, but you’ll also be able to watch him. And you’ve never had the opportunity to watch him workout before. 

The main path to the outdoor area is through the medical room, so you’ll be able to see each one of them. Gaz comes up after Soap, not saying much. He never does, just gives you a small smile and nod. And then Alejandro, asking how you are, just to be polite. Price asks the same, hanging around a bit longer than the comrade before him. The captain seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, how you’re feeling, whether or not you’ve had a nice day. You find this incredibly sweet, and also comforting, knowing how much he cares. 

And then there’s Ghost. He purposely hung back in the group, wanting to get even the tiniest amount of alone time with you. When you hear his footsteps, you turn around, your body tingling with excitement. A wide smile makes its way across your face when you see him, that gloved hand now opening the door. 

His eyes are full of admiration as he looks at you, stepping forward with ease. With the boys out of the room, his hands naturally find your hips, his form towering above you. 

“Hey, B.” 

B, a nickname from your nickname. Something he came up with over these past few weeks. 

Grinning from ear to ear, you stare up at him, hands sliding over his chest. “Hey, baby.” 

A small, happy hum comes from his throat, bringing his forehead down to yours. He feels your palms slide over his shoulders, your fingers petting at him. “Miss me?” 

“Desperately.” You answer dramatically, rolling your eyes with a grin. But honestly, it’s true. 

Those thick fingers tighten on your hips, his low chuckle vibrating above his ribs. When he feels your hands on the back of his neck, one of his palms leaves. Rising to his face, he lifts the very edge of his mask, eyes darting up to the glass behind you. It displays the training course - he’s making sure no one can see. 

The kiss isn’t heated or firm, it’s a gentle yet passionate connection. Both of you sigh into it, bodies melting together. He pulls you close, pressing the firmness of his chest to your much softer one. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, releasing an aggravated breath. You only have time for this single kiss. “I’ve gotta go.”

“I know.” You’re nodding, though you can’t hide the disappointment on your face. But as your hands slide down, holding either side of his face, you whisper to him, “It’s okay.” 

Honestly, you’re not that disappointed when he goes. At least, not as disappointed as you usually are. It’s only because he’s remaining close. Just being near Simon brings you a sense of security and genuine happiness; Jesus, you’re really falling for him. 

To say he was a distraction from your afternoon tasks is an understatement. Sitting at your desk, it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes on the papers you’re currently filing. There are many aspects to the outdoor course, a track, an area for weights, rock climbing simulation, etc. The boys started out on the running path with Price shouting  the occasional command. After that, it seems like they’re able to do their own thing, as long as they’re still working. 

Simon’s eyes meet your own as he walks in your direction, toward the station closest to you. Smirking beneath his mask, he takes a seat on one the benches, eyeing the weight equipment surrounding him. Per usual, it’s not long before Soap joins him. He’s trying to talk to Ghost, but he shrugs him off, not saying much in response. You watch dreamily as he lays back on the bench, preparing for a round of bench presses. 

Every time he lifts the weights, his muscles flex - you can see them moving beneath his gray long sleeve. Jesus, he’s so big, so powerful. There are so many weights on either end and he’s lifting it like they’re nothing to him. Honestly, probably just to show off. 

He’s still sweaty from his run when Johnny nudges him, nodding to the pull-up bars. The broadness of Ghost’s shoulders jumps a little; he’s laughing. Whatever Soap said gets him to move, standing from his short time at the bench. Furrowing your eyes, you watch as they move, Soap’s hands immediately grabbing for the higher bar. Simon goes to grab the one next to him, but stops, glancing back at you. It makes your face run hot, a shy smirk crawling across your lips at being caught. But he finds it cute. 

Contemplating his next move, his fingers reach down, finding the edge of his shirt and lifting it from his torso. Your jaw drops when he does it, tossing the shirt onto the sweat-covered bench. With little to no cloud coverage in the sky, the sun shines down on him, glistening across his skin. You can’t believe it, you can’t believe how good he looks, how fucking fit he is. 

Cracking the window open just a pinch, you’re able to listen in on their conversation. 

“Showin’ off for the med. girl, huh, L’t?”

“For the last time, Johnny.” He sighs in that deep voice, approaching the bar. “She’s not some med. girl. She’s got a code name, use it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

Grunting, his fingers wrap around the metal, hauling the bulk of his body into the air. “She deserves our respect.” He says it when he lowers back down, a heavy sigh filtering through his lips.

You’re sure he doesn’t know the window is cracked, you were fairly quiet about it. And to know this is how he speaks about you when you’re not around or can’t hear genuinely flatters you. 

“Think she might come out with us tonight.” Johnny’s up on the bar now, too, the one next to Simon. 

“Yeah? What makes you think that?”

Soap’s heavy grunts and sighs fill the air now, too, their collective noises making you stir inside. It feels strangely, dumbly, primitive. Being so turned on by muscular men. But honestly, you can’t help it. They look fucking fantastic. 

“I invited her again.” Johnny responds, giving up after twenty-five reps. Ghost is still going. “She seemed more open to it.”

Simon doesn’t say anything, he just keeps going. Every single muscle in his torso, arms, and back, they’re all flexing, working to build their volume up to a higher capacity. It’s so impressive, seeing him like this, getting just a tiny glimpse at what he can really do.

“Anyways,” Soap sighs, grabbing a water bottle from the cooler. “Hope she comes, would love to get her a drink.”

Ghost had been ignoring Soap’s comments until that one hits the air. Dropping from the bar, Simon huffs out a breath, dusting his hands off while turning to face his friend.

“You fancy her, yeah?”

“Think she’s alright.” Soap is smirking now, almost bashfully. 

“You don’t think Price would have a problem with that?” Shifting his weight, he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest, gaze becoming predatory. 

Soap shrugs. “I dunno, don’t think so. As long as it didn’t interfere with work. Why not?” 

If this is true, Ghost thinks, maybe we can make things public after all.

“You talkin’ about Bones again?” Alejandro walks up, reaching between the two men to get to the cooler, too. 

Jesus, is everyone after her?

“Yeah, she’s comin’ out tonight.” Johnny grins, rolling his eyes when Ghost grumbles a maybe under his breath. Winking, he pats his Lieutenant on the chest. “I’ll convince her.” 

That’s it.

Marching forward, he presses past Johnny, earning a disgruntled noise from his friend. Stepping back, he eyes the much longer man, raising a brow. “Ghost? Where are ya goin’?” 

Opening the door to the medical room, he shouts over his shoulder. “Pulled a muscle.”

You’re lighting up with excitement until Price’s voice floats across the yard. “I don’t think so.” Comes that booming voice. “Sparring match, now. Half you lads couldn’t hold your own on the last mission.” 

Fuck, rolling your eyes, you sigh. So close.

You figure this will be pretty entertaining, though. You’ve never seen the boys fight. Honestly, this is all new. 

Sparring takes place in the center of the field, quite a ways away from you. But you can still see clearly enough to see who’s who. Leaning forward in your chair, you listen as well as you can to figure out the rules. Basically, no cheap shots to the groin. Anything else is apparently fair game. 

“Soap,” Ghost is already ordering, “You and me.”

“I thought -” 

“Let’s go.” Stepping up, Ghost grunts quietly, cracking his neck.

Soap isn’t sure why Ghost is acting so confrontational. Usually, Price paired them up. But he figures, why the hell not? Stepping forward, he readies his stance, thinking he has a fighting chance. 

Simon just wants to get some anger out. He knows you’re his, even if they aren’t aware of it, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to hear them talk about you. He was happy you’d been declining Soap’s offers, and internally, he wanted to knock his jaw for even trying to make a move on you. 

Circling slowly, Soap is the first one to swing, Ghost dodging it and then punching his ribs quickly. It seems like Johnny’s on the attack, surprisingly, but Ghost remains calm, calculated. After missing two more strikes, Ghost lands on upper-cut. The way he’s moving makes the muscles in his torso twist and flex, his biceps bulging when he hits. You’re thinking about making an excuse for them to do this more often. 

It’s obvious who’s winning, but Ghost is starting to get into his head. He hasn’t felt your warmth in so many days now, it’s been more than a week since you slept in his bed. Maybe he can skip out on drinks tonight, opting to sneak you in instead. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Fuck, he can’t wait to hold you, snuggle you, wrap you in his arms and nuzzle into your sweet-smelling hair. He misses you, longs for you, every bit of you. And then, he turns his head, those warm eyes meeting your own from a few yards away. He holds your gaze, a small moment passing between the two of you. 

Just when you think the match will be done with, Johnny takes another stab. Ghost is so in his head with thoughts of you that he doesn’t notice, and doesn’t block it. Sharply, Johnny’s fist and Simon’s face connect, knocking Ghost’s large body to the side. He stumbles a bit, grunting. 

“Oh shit!” You shout in surprise, eyes going wide. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Johnny!” 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough for you two. Gaz, Alejandro, let’s go.” 

“Sorry, Ghost.” Soap is smiling while he shrugs. “Better luck next time.” 

“Ghost, go take a break.” Price orders, “I don’t need you to bruise.” It’s not like anyone will see it, but that’s not the point. He doesn’t want the pain to hinder him. 

Glady, he thinks, licking his lower lip.

As soon as you see him head your way, you’re on your feet, grabbing antiseptic wipes and an ice pack for him. It’s nothing serious but… it's Simon. Your Simon. And you’ve never seen him get hit like that.

“Hey, love.” Comes that deep grunt, the door opening and then shutting behind him.

“Hey, baby. Come sit.” Patting the table, you urge him over, but he just laughs. 

“It’s nothing serious, B.” 

“Well, I’m still going to clean it.” You say firmly, frowning. Reaching over, you grab his bicep, pulling him to the table. He obliges. “I didn’t like that.” You’re murmuring, lifting his mask and sliding the wipe over his cut lip. 

His shoulders scrunch up, then dip. “You know I’ve gotten stabbed right?” He chuckles, admiring your focused expression.

“Yeah, I had to stitch it up.” You remind him with a grin. Shaking your head, you then ask him, “What happened, anyway? Too busy thinking of me?”

“Actually, yeah.” 

“Oh, really?” Backing up, you throw away the wipe, handing him the ice pack you’d retrieved for him.

“Havin’ you around is kind of a big distraction.” Glancing down, he rolls his eyes. “And apparently not just for me.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do the boys always flirt with you?”

“Well, yeah. But I can’t really help that.”

A quick sigh is then forced out of his nose, rising to his feet and tossing the ice pack down. It lands on the table, and from your seat, you look at him, surprised. “Are you… mad at me?”

Turning, he reaches down, grabbing you by the arm and lifting you to your feet. His other hand finds your jaw, fingers brushing over your face. 

“I want you, B.” He’s looking down at you with those warm eyes, those deep hues of brown and caramel swirling. “Those assholes don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Exactly.” You’re cooing softly to him, reaching up to hold his face, too. 

Simon’s eyes graze across your face, taking you in. It’s been a little bit since he’s been this close to you. “Don’t worry about them, baby.” You want to reassure him, too. Simon isn’t good with words, he shows his interest through actions. You, on the other hand, are good with words. And that just so happens to be one of Simon’s love languages. 

Leaning down, Simon molds his mouth to yours, the metallic taste of his blood leaking onto your lower lip. But you don’t care, honestly… it’s kind of sexy. Seeing him like this, all rugged and sweaty from working his body and muscles to their limit. From how sweaty he was when he first came up, you know their training inside must have been rigorous.

“Baby, they’re gonna see.” 

“I can’t take it anymore.” His eyes are still closed, mouth insistent with his hands wrapping around you. They squeeze your hips, his small moans making you melt into him. 

His back is facing the windows, completely hiding your smaller body. So, even if someone was looking, they probably wouldn’t see much. That is, until he turns you to face them.

“Simon,” A small gasp leaves your lips, wanting to feel more of his. “W-What are you doing?”

“Said I wanted you, didn’t I?” He’s leaning over you from behind, pressing your front onto the padded table he was just sitting on. His hands are still on your hips, his mouth just beside your ear, and he kisses it. 

“Right here?”

“Fuck,” Dropping his head, he places his hairline at the nape of your neck. His fingers are lining the hem of your pants as he says, “Yeah, sweetheart. Right here.” 

Lowering himself even further, he starts mouthing at your neck, ignoring the sting from his cut. The weight of him presses into you from behind, his forearms resting on either side of you as he cages you in with his body. 

“I’m supposed to be here with you, Price sent me. No one’ll notice I’m gone.” He’s trying to reassure you because Jesus fuck, he wants this. He wants you. 

“Mm…” A small smirk curls on the edge of your lip, feeling him grind into your ass. Lolling your head to the side, you let him kiss your neck, sighing from it. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He asks hurriedly, groaning. “Yeah, baby?” 

“Yeah,” Now, you’re nodding, rubbing yourself back against him. 

Your insides heat up from the excitement of it, of possibly being caught. You’ve never done anything like this before, but Simon is right. Your chances of being seen are pretty low. The boys are all busy, and they won’t expect him to be back for a while. 

The brazenness of it all comes to life when Simon’s fingers move to your hips, pulling your pants down. He settles them around your mid-thigh, shoving his shorts down, too. 

“Fucking hell, I’ve missed this.” Staring down, he reaches for you, rubbing his fingers over your center. 

Lids dropping along with your head, you release a quiet and airy breath. So much of his skin is available for you to see and feel but you can’t do any of that, not with you still so covered. 

Simon’s hand flies up to his mouth, licking his digits before shoving them back down. He rubs you firmly, his tongue tingling with your taste. Rotating your hips back against him with a tiny moan, he shakes his head, loving the way you respond to him. And then he’s grabbing himself, lining up with your entrance. His head swipes through your sex, pulsing when he feels your wetness. And when he starts to slide in, he doesn’t look away, staring the entire time the two of you connect. 

“Simon,” Fingers reaching for the edge of the table, they curl around it, lungs inhaling a sharp breath. 

But he doesn’t respond, he just groans, wrapping his left arm around your midsection. He palms at your right breast, thumb rubbing your nipple through your shirt. His free hand then clings to your hip, the heavy intrusion of him seated inside when his pelvis meets your ass. 

“Oh my god…” 

“Good,” He grumbles out in that low, accented voice. “Taking it so easy.” 

It’s because you’re starting to get used to him. 

His forehead drops to your covered back, the very top of it. With a heavy breath, he moves his hips, just rotating them. The arm around your torso tightens, the fingers of his opposite hand digging into your hip. Every so lightly, he smacks it, and it makes you gasp.

“That’s it.” The way he says it tells you he’s grinning. “Make some noise for me.”

“Baby,” It comes out as a high whine, completely forgetting about the window you’d opened. 

“Oh…” That gives him the motivation to retract his hips before plunging back into you. 

Already, his pace is hurried, rocking your body against the medical table. Shifting his stance, he angles himself behind you, hitting you deep. Every thrust makes you whine, your little squeaks pleasing him greatly. 

Retracting his arm slightly, his hand travels down, pressing his palm over your lower belly. He’s grunting into your ear, body pressing you down with the weight of his chest on your back. Searching briefly, it doesn’t take long for him to find it, the slight jab of his tip against your inner skin. 

“You feel me?” Simon whispers gruffly, making your skin shiver. His voice seems rougher than ever before. “You feel me in your belly?” 

You’re gasping for him, walls contracting around his length. He doesn’t even pull out all the way before he’s inside you again. The pleasure of it all, of his body and words, overwhelms you, tears forming in the corners of your lids.

“Yes!” You wail out for him, pinching your tear-soaked eyes shut as you nod rapidly. 

“Feel me.” Ghost demands, reaching up and grabbing one of your hands. He then guides it down, his palm pressing your hand into your skin. Turning his head, he mouths at your ear, kissing it before whispering, “You feel that inside? 

You can; it’s the tip of him punching up against your inner skin, fucking himself into you until molded to him.

“Yes, Simon. Simon, I-”

And then his hand is leaving yours, chest heaving from his emotions and physical exertion. That same hand rises, fingers clasping around your neck. His quick movement and brute force prompt you to open your own, blown pupils widening. Palm flying up to hold onto him, squeezing his forearm in your tiny hand, you gasp. But he doesn’t squeeze, he just holds you, growling into your ear, “You’re mine.”

Helplessly, you whine, having craved this for days, for more than a week. And you’d think that after his workouts he’d be tired, but no. The mere idea of taking you forced adrenaline through his veins all over again.

“S-Simon!”

He’s pounding into you ruthlessly, chasing his own pleasure and knowing he’s giving you yours. More so than before, he lets his weight sink into you, hips jutting against your ass as he continues. 

“Feel good, B? Yeah?” Eyes rolling back into your head, you nod, moaning for him. It makes him smile breathlessly, the side profile of your expression. “Where do you want me, darling?”

Both of you had been right with your initial assumption, the boys are busy. But Soap, isn’t. You’d forgotten he was Ghost’s competitor, now taking a rest himself. And during that rest, he takes it upon himself to wander over, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler. 

You’re too distracted by Simon’s body and words that you don’t even notice when Johnny comes over - but Ghost does. Of course, he does. Flashing his eyes up, they meet quite suddenly with his teammate’s, Johnny’s eyes widening in shock. His lips even part, pupils darting away immediately. 

Satisfied, Simon returns to you. “I asked you a question.” 

“On my ass,” You moan, and Johnny can hear you now. “Can you cum on my ass? Please?” That makes him throb; both of them, actually. 

And now, Soap gets it. From the way you’re talking, it’s clear to him that the two of you have done this before. 

Interesting, he thinks. She’s never asked that of me before.

It actually surprises him so much that he’s at a loss for words, lips parting as his eyes pinch shut. Quietly, he mumbles out a small, “Naughty.”

Something inside him snaps, a feeling in his chest breaking loose. It’s a sensation that’s raw and primal, a feeling of possessiveness and determination. He’s never felt this way about a woman before. 

Wrapping both arms around your midsection again, he grunts, hips stuttering as soon as your words allow them to. And then, he’s pulling out, bringing his dominant hand around. Leaning back, he jerks himself off over your ass, his chest heaving out desperate breaths. It flows through him, the absolute ecstasy of his high. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not when he hasn’t had you in more than a week. But honestly, you’re okay with that. For Ghost, you’re okay with anything. 

Chuckling breathlessly as he watches it, you can feel his body jerk behind you, the fronts of his thighs trembling against the backs of yours. And you can feel it, too, the stickiness of it washing your skin. It’s warm and thick and it makes you sigh. In a strange sense, you feel marked by him.

 “Sorry, princess.”

Reaching to the side, Simon grabs a towel sitting nearby. Glancing down, he uses it to wipe you off, gently running it over your skin while he sighs. And then, he’s tossing it in the laundry bin, palm coming down to smack your ass. It’s playful, now running his hand over your skin while he admires you. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” Turning your head to the side, he takes your que, leaning over your body again so he can kiss you. Whispering against his lips, you tell him, “I fucking missed you.” 

Johnny doesn’t look at you for the rest of the night, not even when you’re sitting right across from him. To your utter shock and genuine delight, Ghost invited you out with them. But you’re not appearing as a couple, not yet. Even after fucking in the med. room and now sitting beside each other, Simon going so far as to buy you a drink, no one suspects a thing. You’re hiding in plain sight. 

“Bones!” Alejandro’s accented voice shouts to you from across the bar. Looking up, you lock eyes, giving him your attention. “A drink?”

“That’s okay!” Waving him off, you then lift your cup. “Ghost already got me one!”

Alejandro then looks to Simon, who’s sitting right beside you, and raises a brow at him before turning away again. Exhaling slowly, contentedly, Simon leans back in his chair, settling his arm over the top of yours. He then turns his head, eyeing you. 

“What’s wrong, Simon?” Questioning him, you quickly take a sip, lips hovering on the rim of your glass. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He shrugs, that deep chuckle wafting into the air. “Maybe, but she’s not that scary.”

“No?”

“Nah,” Shaking his head, he takes a swig from his beer, sighing. “Just makes me wanna bone.” 

“Will you two igits shut up?” Soap’s rubbing his forehead, groaning quietly. 

“What’s your problem?” Your question comes with a hefty amount of attitude, Simon’s hand finding your thigh and then rubbing it. He’s quietly shushing you. 

“Give him a break.” Simon chastises, and this makes Johnny look up. “He saw somethin’ he wasn’t supposed to see today.” 

“What do you mean?”

Simon just releases a breath, turning to look at you again. “He knows, B.” 

[twopoppies]

"I would like Harry to be remembered for his great songwriting skills, his voice and the great performer he is, but everything is so overshadowed by the rest that in 20, 30 years I don't know if he will be remembered as one of the greatest of our generation (and he deserves it so much). I just think there's too much noise overshadowing his music"

I'm the say ranting anon as yesterday and I was gonna leave it at that but I saw this and I think is an interesting topic so I'm gonna rant a little bit more (sorry in advance).

It's impossible for anyone to know how is Harry gonna be remembered 30 years from now but what we can do is trying to compare him with the artist we consider legends today.

Lets take Elton John, Freddy Mercury, Prince, George Michael, Madonna, Whitney Houston and David Bowie for example... Each and every single one of them is considered a legend, the most successful in their field, the ones current artist use as inspiration and what they aspire to be. You know what else they have in common? Careers full of rumors, cheating scandals, drugs scandals, gay scandals, failed marriages, fake marriages, money problems, etc, etc, etc.

But those are no the things they're remember for, at the end their music and their art is soo good and made such an impact that all the "noise" sorrounding their careers just take a passive role.

I mean, as a fan, leaving through the rumors and all the nonsense is annoying as fuck and I would love if when I spoke about Harry people ONLY asked me about his music because he is so much more than his supposed girlfriends but what can I do?

And of course it is possible to be successful in the industry without playing the game, I wasn't trying to imply Zayn isn't but there's levels to that success, at least in the eyes of the general public.

Like let's be honest, all 5 of the boys has had a successful solo career so far but which one of them is more likely to achieve the legend status your anon is talking about??? Everyone under the sun knows the answer is Harry.

And why is that? It's not because he's has a powerful voice or because he's an excellent lyricist or because he's and incredible performer. Of course he's all that. But the reason he has achieved so much and is probably get the legend status someday is because how his team has marketed him. I'm sorry but without Columbia and the azzoffs Harry wouldn't be where he is today 🤷‍♀️ They're horrible people but they sure as hell know what they're doing and Harry is happy with their job and where his career is going so...

Yep. Marketing really does make a difference.

There’s something unquantifiable about the artists you mention, though. Take Madonna, for example. Cyndi Lauper came out at the same time. She had a much better voice. Her singles were huge. She had a great look. She definitely had fans (still does), but Madonna had that extra something that drew the masses in and kept them there (and oh my god did she have scandals and gossip galore—some of them very purposely manufactured).

And I agree with you about the Azoffs/Sony/Harry’s team. They’re taking him where he wants to go.

In reference to this

[littleandless]

MY THOUGHTS ON SEASON 2 EPISODE 6: “SMALLFOLK”

viserys being the focus of daemon’s visions this episode was sooooo delectable. say what you will about daemon being power-hungry and craving glory, but he has sought his big brother’s love & approval most of all. when rhaenyra said that she, with her father’s adoration, made daemon whole, boy was that so fucking true. daemon had some affection for and attraction to her of course, but she was mostly an extension of her father, same as all other females in a patriarchal system. at least until they come under the guardianship of a husband.

it’s sad that alicent was fired from the small council, but i was expecting it to happen a lot sooner tbh.

alicent had so many Mother moments this episode. caressing aemond’s face, pleading with him on an emotional level to give up this hardened persona that hides his childhood wounds. sitting vigil at aegon’s bedside. protecting helaena bodily. inquiring about daeron, the one she had to send away. openly questioning whether it was the environment or her own parenting that caused her eldest sons to go astray, and seeking some level of comfort or validation from her brother, the only relative she doesn’t have a complete wreck of a bond with.

ser steffon darklyn became a bit too confident and then BOOM dragonfire. rest in peace, king.

also…why are we pretending that no one else could possibly be persuaded to attempt claiming a dragon? so many people would jump at the opportunity, let’s be real. tell everyone you’re holding auditions for the role of dragonrider and they will be on your doorstep in 2 seconds.

“YOU TOAD” aemond i kind of love you. also i’m glad he’s not as susceptible to larys’ manipulation. and now that he’s called otto back as hand, maybe cole will get a dressing down as well.

we all knew, or at least suspected, that nettles was cut from the show. you may also have heard that rhaena would take on her storyline instead. and i guess it’s true! i mean, i’m happy for rhaena. she deserves something beyond familial duty to occupy her time. she’s tried and failed to claim a dragon, and now she will finally find success. i just wonder how it will affect the plot in regards to babies joffrey, aegon, and viserys.

also we got to see a baby dragon! i forget, have we seen any others in hotd? i can only recall drogon, viserion, and rhaegal in the main series.

QUEEN RHAENYRA SLAPPING OLD MEN AND KISSING WOMEN!!!! WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

ulf, regardless of whether he’s actually baelor’s bastard, was cast so well. i can totally see the resemblance…or maybe it’s just the stupid half up-half down hairdo that daemon & viserys love so damn much.

i appreciate the larys/aegon heart-to-heart, even if it was mostly for personal gain, because there’s a whole wad of truth behind his words. it’s a bond they now share.

disability in westeros is such a loaded topic, and one that comes up often in grrm’s work. i’m not expecting anything groundbreaking but it is cool to see it acknowledged.

seasmoke chasing down addam was lowkey funny. did he do that in fire & blood? i can’t remember. that damn dragon circled back like three times to terrorize some random hunk and i’m all for it.

also it never occurred to me that alyn was bald on purpose. i thought he was just middle-aged😭 but yeah the white hair makes sense.

the food boats were a great PR move. it’s too bad about hugh punching that guy though. i’d be so pissed if i ran through an entire mob for some carrots and lettuce and then got robbed.

so far we’ve got dyana & sylvie involved in team black’s schemes. gaemon palehair when???? and with ulf and hugh soon joining the fold, we’re getting set up for rhaenyra’s takeover woohoo

but we’re also getting closer to the end😔🫡

[auspicioustidings]

Hello, I'm not sure if you're taking requests for COD headcannons, but I would like to know if you can do headcannons for 141 x reader and/or Kortac x reader (which ever you prefer) in which the solider/medic reader has a major sweet tooth. Like the reader is seen almost always having something to snack on, having to ask the reader if they can have some, and a couple of members finds out that they have a hidden stash of various types of candy, cakes and any sweet there is.

I hope this make sense, and you can any other aspects that comes to mind. Thank you for reading and it's alright if you're unable to do these headcannons.

Have a great day and I luv your work! <3

I have never had anyone ask before but I can certainly give it a bash!

Price

Treats you the exact same way he treats the K-9 team meaning he has at least once been dragged into an office to get an absolute bollicking for feeding you too many treats

To him the job basically ruins any chance at a good life so anyone choosing to do it should be allowed anything that makes them happy and doesn't affect their ability to work

He has his cigars, you have your sweets and he about died laughing when you whipped out a chocolate cigar so you could "smoke with him"

Ghost

Doesn't really notice because he's not super into sweets until Johnny starts whining at him because you keep hiding your stash

He uses this as a training opportunity because his men shouldn't be getting outfoxed by a medic with an affinity for sweets

Eventually you cut a deal with him and he gets Johnny off your back in exchange for helping him hook up with one of the IT people (it's a total mess in the end because the IT person is into you, you are trying to get them to sleep with Ghost and Ghost made you promise - he absolutely did it on purpose and takes great joy in watching the whole debacle)

Soap

Finds out immediately and found it cute at the start because you were always so happy when he'd give you little sweets

Finds it less cute when everyone else starts giving you sweets because he is both jealous and competitive, so he's out to find your stash and wreck it so his gifts reign supreme

Winds up going into an absolute spiral when one of the other medics brings fucking home made brownies into work and proceeds to spend a ridiculous amount of money and time doing an intensive bakery course on leave

Still sucks at it because he just doesn't enjoy following instructions so instead begs Ghost to bake things that he then passes off as his own (Ghost of course delighted because my my Johnny, what are you willing to do for me in exchange?)

Gaz

Has been your PT since basic, is well aware of your habits and has been trying to curb them for years

Like it's fine you are eating sweets ONLY IF you are meeting your protein goals and not going wildly overboard so he isn't inclined to stop you unless he sees you are starting to eat way too much

Once a week the last ten minutes of your gym sesh are spent trying some healthier substitutes to see what ones you enjoy and could start subbing in and which just won't cut it

Kortac

In general when you are working on their base Kortac are strict with you. Konig takes nutrition pretty seriously so he expects that when people are on base they are eating well. The rest are used to all eating the same meals and sticking to the snacks stocked in the mess while they are on base so they only tease you when you complain.

Los Vaqueros

Absolute riot, they love feeding you. Rudy's grandma is constantly sending home made desserts. Alejandro hand feeds you. It's like when you are babysitting and just give a kid sweets because it won't be your problem in an hour. No issue to them sending you back to the 141 all hyper.

Ghost Team

All out war. Everyone is stealing one another's sweets, alliances live and die on a single bar of chocolate. Game of Thrones could never hope to match the levels of bitter political manoeuvring.

[stars-tonight]

Hiii, can I request a scenario or headcanon, idk what it’s called really😅. You know know how you have the match ups request and the other one. That’s the one I mean you know 😭

Characters: atsumu, suna

So my cousins and I sometimes get together and play volleyball casually. We play at friendly tournaments against other teams it’s nothing official or serious really. But my cousins and I get together to practice cause we lowkey suck

So my request is how would Atsumu and Suna be if their significant other invited them to play volleyball casually with her family? Like would they take it a little too seriously and really want to win? Would they call in their teammates to the team as reinforcements? Do they go coach mode? Idk what else😋

My emoji🍓

PLAYING VOLLEYBALL "CASUALLY" (FT. MIYA ATSUMU, SUNA RINTARŌ)

miya atsumu

🕊️ unfortunately, he's never used "casual" and "volleyball" in the same sentence before

🕊️ his first serve he goes back and absolutely whips it

🕊️ if you're playing outside in your backyard, it definitely bounces over the fence and into the neighbor's yard

🕊️ you make atsumu get it

🕊️ if you're playing in a gym, it'll probably hit the ground and bounce so high it gets stuck in the ceiling or something

🕊️ like you know how there are sometimes wooden beams on the ceiling

🕊️ i'm so bad at describing but imagine it just gets stuck on one of those large ceiling fans or something

🕊️ and your whole family just stares at him until you go over and you're like "yo so this might be surprising but we're actually not national level players, it'd be really nice if you could maybe just take it easy?"

🕊️ unfortunately he still goes kinda hard after that but he tries to listen to you and tone it down a bit

🕊️ absolutely loves the praise he gets from your cousins when they first see his skills

🕊️ if you enter a tournament with him you're guaranteed to win

🕊️ if you enter like a doubles tournament he's automatically your partner

🕊️ if you enter a team tournament he'll probably call in osamu

🕊️ lowkey a ball hog 😭

🕊️ will probably only set to 'samu

🕊️ however he'll probably get a little annoyed once he realizes that you guys don't play on the same level as him

🕊️ will probably end up saying something mean without realizing it

🕊️ your cousins will probably dislike him a bit more after this

🕊️ atsumu plays volleyball to win, and he'll find a way to win even if it's a casual tournament

🕊️ maybe it's not the best idea to ask him to take it easy

suna rintarō

🕊️ actually could not be happier to play casually for once

🕊️ definitely will not go all out

🕊️ if you all take water breaks he'll just be scrolling on his phone

🕊️ although if you play in a tournament against other teams?

🕊️ man has a reputation to uphold

🕊️ he IS a national level player after all

🕊️ so if you're playing other teams (even if it's a tournament just for fun) he's blocking every ball

🕊️ will somehow do it without getting the least bit sweaty

🕊️ if you ask him how he's not sweaty, he'll respond with a snarky "it's not hard to block them"

🕊️ you have to believe him though because he's too lazy to actually put in effort which means he was just messing around and still blocked everyone

🕊️ his skill level is just that far above everyone else lol

🕊️ probably won't call in any backup

🕊️ he already has enough of the twins on a daily basis because they're on the same team and in the same year

🕊️ would rather just spend this time alone with you

🕊️ he'll probably warm up with an airpod in

🕊️ suna does play volleyball professionally post-timeskip so it's not like he doesn't like volleyball or is opposed to actually trying

🕊️ he just has a tendency to do just enough to get the job done

🕊️ and that's not different here

🕊️ he'll probably deny any requests for photos or autographs with fans (lol) because he's feeling like being a little shit

🕊️ or he'll sign his name and add a note:

🕊️ "your defense really could use some work"

🕊️ definitely posts you on his social media

A/N: there you go 🍓anon, i hope you liked it! thank you for requesting a fic, i loved writing with a prompt even though it takes me a long time to get started 🙈