#how could anyone mishear this

[blorbosexterminator]

For all there is negative to say about the spin-off and Berlin I at least have the comfort to know that Pina would never mischaracterize and misrepresent Berlin as the fandom did when everyone just decided to shut their eyes and ears in the Viking Gold scene and instead assumed the exact opposite of what happened. Just completely ignoring what Andrés literally said in the scene so just they would have a "at core Martín and Berlin are actually the opposite uwu and Martin is so much better" when the scenes were literal direct parallels of each other and where Andrés and Martín said the exact same things just about different cultures and different groups of people

[cloudcountry]

I've discussed this with a mutual but I really need to read it: I'd like to request a confession scenario with Jamil where he goes through the 5 stages of grief.

Basically Jamil is fell head over heels into the Mariana trench but forgot that De Nile is a river in Egypt and pulled a page out of Kalim's book by being purposely oblivious about his own feelings.

The poor reader is also very much in love and has pining for WEEKS. One day, they decide to just tip the band-aid off. The pair are in the kitchen hanging out as usual when the reader turns to him and goes "I'm in love with you. You don't have to say anything and you can pretend this never happened. I just want you to know"

They're expecting a rejection but Jamil just stares a freezes for a good three minutes. While the reader is panicking trying to get him to snap out of it, Jamil is going through the 5 stages of grief.

Ultimately, Jamil's thought process ends with "If we don't kiss in the next 5 seconds I'm overblotting again" and the intrusive thoughts win.

SUMMARY: you confess to jamil. he doesn't know how to respond until he throws his inhibition out the window.

COMMENTS: I LOVE THIS REQUEST??? i decided to play off of the actual stages of grief for this even though its an expression hehe

“Jamil, I like you.”

What.

“Actually, no, I’m...I’m in love with you. And it’s okay if you don’t, it's okay if you don’t say it back, I just wanted you to know.”

What!?

Jamil stares at the fridge in front of him, mind blank except for your words. They repeat over and over and every emotion ever swells up in his chest because what!?

Since when? Why? What did you see in him? What did you see in your future with him? DId you even see one? Did he mishear you? Did you mean to say that to someone else?

No, there’s no way you did. You two were the only ones in the kitchen at the moment. Grim was outside in the living room, talking to the ghosts about something or other and why would you even say something like that to Grim anyway?

Denial.

You didn’t mean it. There’s no way you meant it. even after he overblotted and threw you to the other end of his dorm? Even after he showed you all the ugliest parts of himself, the parts of himself that nobody ever should have seen because he wasn’t supposed to be a person, only an aid?

And he certainly didn’t like you back. It’s not like he wanted to do things for you to make you happy, it’s not like he got the slightest bit jealous when he saw you hanging out with Kalim, it’s not like he wanted to monopolize all of your time so nobody else could have it.

Okay, so he was lying to himself. Great. He can deal with this for sure.

Anger.

It’s so unfair. It’s so unfair. If it wasn’t for Kalim and his parents and this suffocating life he’s sure he’d be able to accept your confession in a heartbeat. He’s sure he’d be able to comprehend his own emotions and bring you into his arms. He’s sure he’d be able to process his own emotions and be the partner you deserved, without all the jumbled mess that is his rage and jealousy and resentment.

He didn’t want to be someone else, he just wanted a different life. He just wanted to be free, to be able to exercise his own pure talent, to be able to rise above everyone else.

Bargaining.

He wished there was some way to make that reality for you two. He didn’t want you to go be with anyone else, the very thought of it made his stomach turn and his heart brim with anger. He was a selfish, jealous person, but you loved him. How could he make this work? How could he keep you in love with him, keep you by his side, keep you controlled? Did you have to be controlled? You started liking him of your own free will, maybe he didn’t have to do anything.

But falling for him was one matter, staying by his side was another.

Depression.

There was no way this was going to work.

He had to find a way.

He couldn’t find a way.

There had to be a way.

His mind is moving too fast for him to keep up and he’s still staring at the fridge, and your voice is calling his name and you look so worried, your visage in the corner of his eyes swirling. It’s like he’s not even rooted in reality anymore. How can he make this work? It almost feels hopeless...but Jamil is anything but a quitter. He’s never given up before, and he’s not going to start now.

Acceptance.

“Jamil?” you say for what feels like the hundredth time, your hand resting gently on his shoulder.

He’s still not responding. Oh fuck, you didn’t think confessing was going to mess him up this much. If you’d known that, you wouldn’t have said anything and just kept it to yourself forever.

He murmurs your name and finally, finally turns to look at you. His hands grab your shoulders and he meets your gaze, pupils dilated and eyes wide.

“Be mine.” he says, and your heart flutters at how serious he sounds.

“J...Jamil?” you squeak, pliant in his arms and he pulls you close, clinging to you like he never wants to let you go.

“Be mine.” he repeats, words muffled in your shoulder, “I will...always do my best for you. Always. I don’t want you going to anyone else.”

“I don’t want to be with anyone else.” you murmur softly, placing a hand on the back of his head as he crushes you against him.

He shifts, bringing his face close to your neck. You barely have the time to wonder what he’s doing before he kisses the junction between your shoulder and neck, a soft smack of lips roaring in your ears.

“Good.” he replies, the word a hot gust of air against your skin.

[soap-ify]

mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader

05 — i'll meet the judgement by the hounds.

chapter summary — a fool and a coward, that's the realisation you had come to.

tags / cw — no smut, fluff, a bit domestic honestly, basically reader's drunk and simon takes care of you, bittersweet, simon opens up... a bit, angst, suicidal thoughts, very subtle religious references if they even count as one, simon's in denial and reader is on the verge of losing it all. [4k words]

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

Simon had come to the conclusion that you were a snake, and your love was your poison. Maybe he really was a coward for being afraid to let your venom drown into his veins.

“Remind me to never take you out for drinking again.”

If it weren’t for Simon holding you carefully against him and walking through the street, you’d surely have collapsed on the ground all drunk and worse, thrown up by now.

It was a little mistake. One drink became two, and then three. You had forgotten about your tolerance, and here you were now. It’s all because of Simon. That’s what your excuse was, blaming it all on him. Which was true in all honesty, you had gotten too excited about this little hangout.

“You’ll never go out with me again?” Completely mishearing his words, you looked up at him with wide eyes, tears already approaching. Yeah, you were completely drunk. Simon froze, his heart tearing at the sight of your incoming tears, even if they were just due to your emotions being all over the place now. Emotions that had always been there, hidden deep within.

His first instinct was to ignore your words and just keep walking, his heart begging for him to comfort you. But again, how does a killer comfort an angel? How would the moon comfort the ocean, while being so far away?

“I didn’t say that.” He gruffly replied and continued to look ahead, not daring to meet your eyes anymore.

O Angel, let me fall on my knees, kiss your fingers, and weep for forgiveness. So you may hold my absolution, and make me man again.

“C’mon, we gotta take you home.” Simon internally cursed himself for not taking you both to the bar in a car. He hadn’t considered the possibility of you being a drunk mess. Do I ever consider anything?

“No!” Your loud whine echoed in the empty pavement, and he could barely hold in a chuckle, deciding to bite his bottom lip beneath his mask. “Can’t we spend more time together, Si?”

I’d spend a lifetime with you. But god forbid he ever said those words. Not to you, not to anyone. “S’not like m’gonna die or somethin’, or that you’ll never see me again.” Simon grumbled and tightened his hand around your waist, accommodating your wobbly body, guiding you.

Simon wished he could take your hands and sway around with you, let both of you move into a sweet dance, with the stars praising you. A performance for the cosmos. He wished he could hold you when you throw yourself over him, to let you never escape his embrace. Lovers forever tangled.

He wished.

He wondered what something like that even would look like. His dad never danced with his mother. He remembers his mother looking at him, holding in her tears and forcing a smile. “I promise your dad loves me, just as much as I love him. He's just… exhausted nowadays.” He wished his mother didn’t consider him a naive — a child.

Simon doesn’t think he was ever a child. A child is innocent, his very first cry was a sin.

“Simon?” Your voice snapped him out of the reminiscence he was trapped in. He let out a soft grunt, urging you to continue.

“Have you… Have you ever seen a ghost?” You burst into laughter at your own poor attempt at the joke, a rapid change of emotion, though in your defence, it’s definitely very funny. Your free hand tried to wipe the tears as you continued laughing, and Simon swore that this was truly the angels’ hymn eliciting from your mouth.

“Do I count?” He grinned behind his mask, the side of his eyes crinkling a bit. You quickly shook your head and stared at him with determined eyes, fully set on your question. “In that case, no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one, love. But if I do, I’ll make sure to tell ‘em you said hello.”

If it was someone else like Kyle or Johnny who would be laughing about this joke, Simon was sure that he would have said something snarky or just straight up ignored them. But not with you, never with you.

“You’re the best.” You beamed, his heart squeezed painfully.

“We’re almost there.”

Upon arriving at your apartment complex, he dropped you off outside your apartment’s front door, the only thing in mind being to flee quickly so your sweet smile doesn’t taunt him anymore. Though he simply couldn’t, your fingers not letting go off his forearm at all. Too exhausted to figure out if it was intentional or not, he sighed under his breath and turned over to face you, brown eyes having a slight shine in them due to the hallway’s light.

“C’mon, you gotta go in and rest.” He couldn’t figure out why his breathing was falling short. Was it the alcohol? He barely drank anything.

You, on the other hand, tried your best to not look up at him and meet his eyes, knowing that it would shut you up. Like the intimidating gaze of a god, a warrior. You had to speak your mind, had to know about something, to ease the storm in your head.

“Are you getting bored of me?” These words slipped out of your lips as a meek whisper, forbidden.

It was a sickening feeling that ensued within Simon after that, as if something was grabbing his heart and trying to rip it out of his chest. Inhale, exhale. He didn’t know what exactly horrified him. Probably the fact that he knew what had caused you to think like that. The perfume.

O Angel, let me carve my heart out with a knife and hand it to you as an offering — apology. So may your hands embrace it and take me home, with thee. So may your fingers caress my cheek once again, and let my blood paint my skin.

“No.” He was embarrassingly quick to reply, fingers curling up into fists by his sides as he inhaled sharply. How could he put such thoughts into your head? How could I? Only a devil, the most evil being, could commit such atrocity.

You paused at his words, not knowing what else to say. No? Then why was that perfume there? You didn’t want him to think you were dumb enough to not notice that. “You’re lying…” Your voice cracked, and it was no longer the alcohol playing you like a puppet. It was you now. You felt like your own marionette. Stop speaking, fucking stop. “I am not dumb, Si. I saw that p-perfume on your couch the other day. Is that why you got mad at me?” God, stop talking please. “You could have just… said that you prefer other girls. Am I… Am I making a fucking fool out of myself here?” It terrified you, your own emotions terrified you. Your voice was rising just a bit, and all your feelings had their hands wrapped around your throat. Controlling you. You didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to say it out loud. You weren’t used to being so open about your mind, and now you felt like nothing but a cat shivering under the rain — alone and abandoned. Vulnerable, naked.

Maybe you and Simon weren’t so different after all. Vulnerability — just why did it terrify humans? Were the angels and the gods just as opposed to vulnerability?

“Oh, l-” Love. It almost slipped off his tongue, and he didn’t know if you even wanted him to call you that right now. The thought alone made him shudder uncomfortably. He didn’t know what to do — stuck in between two roads. Should he lie? Or tell you the truth? — That it was just one time, a drunken act that is nothing but lamentable to him.

Why were you both even acting like an actual couple right now?

He swallowed the lump that threatened to torture his throat, exhaling softly. “I was drunk, and it happened. She probably left her perfume accidentally.” He spilled the truth out. Just the way a mature person would. Don’t be fucking daft, Riley. His eyes assessed the subtle twitch of your brows at that, your lips quivering. He wished he could just lean in and kiss all the tears away, despite them not having landed on your cheeks. Hopefully they won’t.

“Oh…” Your response was too short, unsure and reluctant. It made Simon feel as if he had sinned once again, chains threatening to drag him into the darkest depths of Hell. Home — the one he was familiar with.

You swallowed nervously and looked down at your feet, your hand long having stopped holding his arm. Instead, your fingers were fiddling with one another anxiously. Why did you feel as if you were betrayed? A desperate cry for love, you wished you could say it to him. To his face, sob and scream about what you felt. He was the only one who understood, who was willing to understand. He was the only one who ever was, and who ever will be.

The agreement. It was no longer just fucking, it never was. Not since the day you saw him with Kyle, not since the day he talked with you after Kyle gestured at you. Never. Could he also see it all the way you did?

Your silence was a clear indicator of the fact that you were lost in your thoughts now. Simon’s eyes softened up, and before he could think rationally, his body reacted on its own and embraced you tightly against his chest, strong arms wrapping around you protectively.

“Fuck…” He cussed under his breath, despising how his voice was thickening up with emotion. He hugged you like an old dog messily giving affection to its owner. My angel, my angel. I sinned, I have sinned. I am sorry.

He pulled you impossibly close, as if wanting to mold his body into yours, to become one. He could be with you forever in that way, to be your breathing and you his heartbeat.

You didn’t even feel confused at his rapid action at all. Just broken, so broken. He was the hammer that had finally hit the dam, and broke it. “W-Why?” Your voice wavered and mixed into a sob, your hands tightened holding onto him, fingers threatening to dig deeper as you let your head rest against him, tears tickling your skin. “I am so tired… So tired, Si. I hate you…”

“Do you want me to leave?” His hold tightened despite his words.

“No.” Your words came out a bit more forcefully than you had intended, too anxious to let him go. You felt his right hand leaving your back, a soft whimper leaving your lips once you felt his lips, bare and real, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, soon realising that he had taken his mask off. Too shy and messy in tears, you made no effort to look up at him and instead continued to cry, emotions desperate to keep pouring out and leave the imprisonment of your body. His hand continued to rub the back of your head while his other held your lower back, both of you unknowingly taking a few steps back and forth together, unable to stay still. It was as if you both were dancing slowly, like lovers.

“Alright. Hand me the keys, love.” You tentatively grabbed your keys from where you had kept it and handed it to him, your hands quickly latching onto him again. He carefully unlocked the front door of your apartment and led you inside, being extra cautious so he doesn’t accidentally step onto your feet. Closing the door by kicking it gently with one leg, he gently guided you towards the living room, easing you down onto the couch.

“Do you remember that creepy guy that came into the cafe?” Your voice was still shaky from crying, eyes all glossy as you finally looked at him, heart skipping a beat. Despite already having seen his face the last time, you still weren't used to it. Were you blessed?

He silently nodded and took a seat beside you, his arms leaving your sides so his large hands could cradle your face, thumbs tenderly wiping the drying up tears away while you talked, eyes looking everywhere but at him due to the sudden proximity. He didn't mind it at all, simply adored your sudden sheepishness.

“I still get scared at the thought of him… I don't want anyone like that to visit the cafe again. I-I don't think I can handle it.” Your voice gradually got quieter by the end, nibbling on your bottom lip. Oh, dear. Simon hadn’t told you that he had already beat that creep up. Now he somewhat wished that he had killed him instead. Surely Price would back him up if he made up some reason, yeah?

Your shoulders visibly eased up at that, your mind clearing a bit. Probably sobering up? You were sure that you weren't going to pick up a bottle of alcohol after this. Leaning into him, you decided to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Expecting a soft, calm rhythm — you were instead met with a fast thump, your brows furrowing though you decided not to comment on it.

“He wouldn't. No one will ever treat you like that again, love.” As long as I am here. Possessive yet guilty. He was vaguely promising to be by your side while always avoiding you, protecting you from himself. From the ugliness within him. No angel must spare a glance at a stray, especially not one used to violence.

His hands were playing with the fabric of your shirt now, mindlessly toying with it, feeling the texture under his skin as he gently tugged onto it. It felt oddly comforting, both of you not mentioning what happened outside the apartment a few minutes ago.

You looked up at him again, your eyes falling onto his lips this time. A bit chapped with a small scar adorning the side of his upper lip. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, leaning forward to place a bashful kiss on top of it. Simon let out a soft grumble at that, tilting his head to the side so he could kiss your lips properly, eyes fluttering shut alongside yours. He could taste some hints of your salty tears, his hands holding your waist while your hands held the back of his neck, letting his lips devour yours.

He held onto you gently, not wanting to be tight despite every fiber within him wanting to hold you fully against him once more, like a hound too eager to please.

Once he pulled away from the kiss, his heart skipped at the sight of your lips being all glossy. Ethereal. Your lips twitched into a giddy smile, and he could swear that he felt the heat radiating off you once it crept up onto your face. It felt soft, everything felt too soft and warm. The gentleness threatened to suffocate him once more, a mocking reminder of him being undeserving of such tranquility. He was supposed to be wed to the war, to violence. To the bloodshed that haunted his dreams. Not whatever this was.

But he refused to get up, not wanting to see any more of your tears. “We have to get you to bed. You need sleep.” He spoke quietly, a soft sigh leaving his lips once he felt your forehead pressing against his, letting you lean into him.

“Will you join me?” You normally would have never asked something like that, but the way he was holding you almost made you believe that he was willing to warm up a bit more with you.

Simon frowned at that, pulling his head back slightly. “We can't, you're drunk.”

Realising that he misunderstood you, blood rushed to your cheeks and you looked away in embarrassment, your voice getting timid. “No… I meant sleeping together. Nothing else.”

He paused, eyes softening up as the implication dawned on him. Sleeping together. Innocently domestic — something you both had never touched. He wanted to reject, to say that it’d be better for him to just leave. That could have been the better option anyways. Though he couldn't bring himself to refuse you, too enamoured, as if trapped in some spell by you.

“Fine.” He clicked his tongue in a poor attempt to appear reluctant, masking his inner eagerness. Helping you off the couch, he led you towards the bathroom first, opening the tap. “Let's wash your face first, yeah?”

He did everything — getting you in comfortable pajamas once he finished helping you clean up, even helping you in preparing the bed. Everything. It made you feel as if you were cared for, as if he was the warmth you had ached for throughout your life. The felicity had long spreaded within you once you laid down on bed, watching him lay down beside you.

He was tense, visibly so. You tentatively scooted towards him, a hand reaching out to settle onto his chest, to feel his heartbeat once again. Maybe in this way, you could sync your heart with his, build your own little bubble. Or was that too much to hope for?

“Thank you…” It just slipped out of your mouth like a soft prayer — a hidden whisper to be close to him so more.

“S'nothing.” His eyes looked over at you, taking in the contentment etched onto your face. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you against him, to let you melt in his embrace while you slept. No. That's too much, that's crossing a line. A line made up in his head.

You're building your own grave, Simon. He despised his own mind for mocking him like this, for littering his head with unwanted thoughts. Just one night.

“Sleep now, love.” He whispered quietly, watching you reach over to turn the lamp off. You shuffled besides him again, letting the blanket cover you up.

Simon doesn’t remember the last time he had slept so nicely, your soft breathing his lullaby.

Upon waking up alone on your bed, a heavy feeling of dread settled on you alongside a throbbint headache. Had he left? Wasn't it just getting better?

Holding your heart together from cracking it with every strength you had, you tried to take a few deep breaths. Don’t panic, don't-

The sudden clinking sound from outside your bedroom made you jolt, and only now could you notice the pleasant aroma of something cooking. Sheepishly, you slid off the bed and tiptoed over to the door, poking your head out to look around. Able to make out some of Simon's figure through the open door of the kitchen, relief flooded deep within you. He's here.

“Good morning, Si…” You greeted him once you entered the kitchen, standing besides him, rubbing the weariness off your eyes. He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement, focusing on cooking some breakfast.

“Your whole kitchen needs some restocking.” He mumbled, sparing a small glance over at you. You stayed quiet, a bit embarrassed by his observance. You were planning on restocking it soon, anyways.

The morning went by like a pleasant breeze, your mood ever so joyous today. You felt light, as if floating on the clouds and reaching the stars, as if becoming one of them, alongside Simon. He hadn't mentioned much about last night at all, even gave you some pills and an offer for a head massage. You had declined it, mostly because you didn't want to show how greatly affected you were by the subtle signs of care laced in his actions, despite it being already evident all over you.

You didn't know what had driven you to act in the way you did in the afternoon. Maybe you shouldn't have opened your mouth, just kept it shut and complied.

“Si, I um… I want to talk to you about something.” You paused the monotonous movie literally none of you were actually focusing on, turning over the couch to face him, your fingers tightly curled on your lap, digging into your flesh.

Maybe it was just your heart acting out, feeling as if things had changed. Foolishly clinging onto the thin strong of hope, never learning. Never learning that touching stray dogs was bad, they had fleas. Fleas that had already infected you, threatening to devour you.

“I think… Uh- I was wondering- I just-” Fumbling over your words, all you could hear was the loud beating of your own heart, each nerve of yours set on fire. Anxious, too anxious. You wanted to throw up. “I wanted to tell you that I really… like you, and-” Your words drowned into heavy silence once you took note of just how silent Simon was, how he was frowning.

A fool. A fool who dreamt too much, who was too lost amidst the heavenly clouds of tranquility. A fool who did everything to avoid reality — that's what you felt like.

“No.” His reply was rather abrupt, clear. The subtle smile on your lips fell, and Simon wished to do nothing more than drown into a river. “You don't like me.”

“I-I do!” Unbelievable, did he not believe that you like him? Even love him.

“You shouldn't.” That came out more roughly than he had intended to, a little snarl escaping his throat. “We've already discussed it, this is nothing.’

You should have shut up at that, should have somehow sewed your lips together and quieted down. You couldn't, instead growing more agitated, more on edge. “You can't say that, Si! D-Don't you see whatever it is that we're doing?” You whimpered in exasperation, trying to keep your voice from trembling, miserably failing. “I care for you! I do, and you care for me too. I can see it…” Vision progressively growing blurrier with incoming tears, you looked away and tried to ignore the sting in your eyes, your breath shuddering. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Simon was at a loss of words himself, his heart aching to kiss your tears away and plead for forgiveness. He was a cruel, cruel man. Cruel for being so terrified, cruel for being so persistent.

O Angel, forgive me for I can't let you love me, for light should never kiss the shadow.

“You shouldn't…” He repeated his words again, his voice quieter, weaker. A plea, a request. You shook your head, a sob erupting from your throat as you tried to reach out for him.

He pulled away just as quick, your hand never meeting his. An ocean that could never touch the moon, a man that could never touch a star.

“I need to leave.” Hastily he turned around and walked out of your apartment, leaving you speechless, hand still shamefully held out. Frozen and alone, unloved.

Simon Riley was a coward.

Simon had lost count of how many bottles he had drank by now. Feeling horribly, horribly similar to his father. A drunkard, disgusting. He thought the alcohol could wash his emotions away, drown them hopefully — all it did was make him even more vulnerable, his glossy eyes staring off at a distance.

Weak. Ironically enough, this brute was nothing but weak. Everyone should be laughing at him, you should be laughing at him. Laugh at him for not knowing how to love properly, for being so quick to run away.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, making him click his tongue in irritation that soon melted away once he noticed the caller ID.

Price.

He picked it up and listened to his captain's words, each syllable both a stab and a blessing.

A deployment again, finally.

notes — i apologise for uploading it after A WHOLE MONTH. blaming it on the writerphew, a deployment! this could mean many things. also a heads up that either chapter 6 or chapter 7 will be the last one (made some changes to my plan!)

[extremelyblackandwhite]

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note:  hey guys! it's me, like wayyyy too many months later but i did promise i would post it this year even if it's like next year in a few hours but here it is!

masterlist

oh oh i'm falling in love, oh no i'm falling in love again, oh, i'm falling in love i thought the plane was going down how'd you turn it right around

Y/N stared in disbelief at the Sergeant, not entirely sure if she had heard him correctly. Maybe it was the Scotch. Could Scotch go bad, could it expire? Sure old Scotch was better than a recent one but surely there was some sort of limit as to how long a liquid can sit lost in time until it gives you some sort of poisoning. Surely malt and water couldn't last forever without causing some sort of illness or hallucination which would explain why Bucky Barnes had just told her he loved her. Or maybe he told her that he loathed her, that would make more sense.

      - I'm sorry, I think I didn't hear it right ... What did you say? - she asked and Bucky swore she was trying to kill him or maybe embarrass him. However, his ego was high on the three glasses of Scotch he already had.

      - I said I loved you.

      - You love me? - what else was there to ask. Maybe she was mishearing him again, yet it came more of a disbelief rambling rather than the question she meant it to be.

      - Yes. - he said, moving closer to her, his eyes more interested in the shade of her lips rather than her eyes which were sure to bring any grown men to their knees. - I love you, I really, really like you Y/N.

      - Like a friend?

Had Y/N been anyone else Bucky would've probably laughed and had Bucky been anyone else Y/N would hide in her bedroom until he disappeared. Things were ... different, she guessed. It felt different to hear it from him, different than when she heard it from Christopher or her first boyfriend or the first guy she ever liked. It felt unsure in the way which she didn't know how to reply, she didn't know when to reply. It was a mature and immature feeling, threading almost along the line of paradoxical. It was if the feeling itself verified her madonna persona yet tempted the whore which laid under, the temptress. It was both tempting and comforting for something that was so out of her reasonable comfort zone.

      - No, not like a friend. - he was close enough she could smell the remnants of his cologne, the scent of scotch in his breathe. - I love you like lovers do.

      - Is that what we are? Lovers?

      - Are you ever not questioning me?

      - It's a fair question, isn't it? - she raised her brow almost in defiance and moved closer, tempting him further. - I thought you liked my questions.

Bucky rolled his eyes before his hands grabbed her hips and moved her closer so their noses touched. They stared into each others eyes for what felt like a while, the mere sound of the wind brushing through the trees outside sounding like electricity until he made his move, moving closer until their lips collided. As if they'd done , they move closer to each other, their bodies pressing together in a heated embrace. Their lips meet in a passionate, lustful kiss, and the world around them fades away as they lose themselves in the moment. She pulled away, biting her lip almost in a painfully shy manner.

      - I should go back upstairs. I have to take Sadie to school tomorrow. - she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks as if she could wipe the heat of her cheeks.

      - Of course. - Bucky moved away as she got up from the couch. - Hey, I can take her if you want to sleep. It's fine, I can go to the office later.

      - It's fine, it's my job. Uh ... good night, Sergeant.

She ran up the stairs like an embarrassed school girl, almost tripping on the bottom of her pyjama trousers, and rushed into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. What was she doing? She couldn't make out with her boss, that went against her contract ... I mean, it wasn't like there was a clause stipulating she couldn't make out with Bucky yet it was still highly unprofessional. He was her boss, her very attractive, tall and rugged handsome boss ... but her boss. Her boss who was sometimes unprofessional himself, he had even inserted himself into the Christopher situation. Still, she was a professional and a professional doesn't make out with her boss.

She laid down in bed with a huff, staring at the lights in the ceiling of her bedroom. Did Bucky had the same lights in his ceiling? He probably did, this was his house after all. The same house she was living in for free, the same house of the man who paid her a really good salary.

      - Y/N? - a knock on her door interrupted her mind's rambling. She got up and opened to see Bucky staring at his feet. - I wanted to apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable, it was unprofessional on my part.

      - No, no, it's my fault too, I mean ... I kissed you back. - she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

      - Please don't apologise, I should've known better but it's damn good scotch, which isn't really an excuse. - he started rambling himself, looking at her like a high schooler would look a girl he really wanted to take on a date. It was cute. - Maybe we shouldn't drink more scotch.

      - Yeah, you're probably right.

He shrugged playfully before turning to go to back to his bedroom before he could do anything else he would regret, however, Y/N was still very much considering whether she should do something that she could regret tomorrow.

      - Sergeant Barnes? - she called after him, almost in a faint whisper so his daughter wouldn't wake up. - Are you gonna ask me out?

      - Excuse me?

      - You said you loved me. Are you gonna ask me out?

      - Do you want me to ask you out? - he smirked, crossing his arms.

      - I'm not gonna answer that question. - she met him in the middle with an equal smirk. - I wasn't the one who said I love you.

      - Yeah but I wasn't the one asking the boss to ask her out.

      - Ask me out, Barnes.

      - Is that an order?

Bucky was close, close enough she could see the smile lines resulting from and she couldn't help herself, she didn't want to help herself. She kissed him, her hand placed on the back of his neck as they kissed. It wasn't soft or sensual, it was needy, as if they would cease to exist. She pulled him towards her bedroom, her hands grabbing at his jumper to pull it over his head. She had heard he was very well built and she had caught glances of him shirtless before but seeing it so up close, every defined muscle, the texture of his skin made her want to scold herself for not having looked harder the other times.

      - I don't think I've been in this bedroom for this long. - he pulled her shirt over her head as he looked around the bedroom. It was her bedroom after all and she wasn't in the mood to usually let him inside to see anything. - Or seen you shirtless this long.

      - Do you ever stop talking? - Bucky smiled and looked at her.

His hands wandered down to her hips and his thumbs lightly brushed over her hips. He pinned her against the door, his leg between hers as he pressed himself closer to her. His lips drew a pattern from behind her ear to her collarbone, his fingers snapping her bra strap against her skin.

      - Do you know how long I've waited for this? - he chuckled as he felt her body close to his, the shape of her breasts pressed against his chests and the sweet nothings of the moans she was trying to keep from escaping. - You've been tempting me since the moment you walked through my door.

He chuckled as she held in a gasp, his body moving closer and closer to her. He turned her around, kissing her hard again and threw her in the body, covering her uncovered body with kisses as he massaged her skin. She felt him slide his hands just a bit further down, kissing and softly bitting her skin. The feelings are overwhelming and the mere foreplay of kissing and massaging is sending shivers down her body. Everything about him was making her go crazy.

      - Bucky, please. - he smiled and he kissed back as he let his fingers move down a just little lower. He leaned in and nuzzled into her more.

His thumb pressed over her clit just over her cotton white underwear, rolling it in small and torturously slow motions making her moan. The fabric moistened under his finger making him smirk as he extended his neck to kiss hers.

      - You're so wet. - he chuckled as he kissed down her legs and to the laced hem of her underwear. - You wanted me just as much as I wanted you.

      - Wait, what are you doing? - she cupped his face, pulling him up.

      - I'm gonna eat you out, baby. What does it look like?

      - I've never had anyone do that to me before so maybe we could skip it?

      - Christopher didn't eat you out? - he chuckled. - No wonder you're so wound up over some over the underwear play. No one is treating you right.

      - You really wanna talk exes?

      - If you let me eat you out, you won't regret it. - he looked at her waiting for her consent. Y/N weighed out the options and the benefits, mostly considering her memories of when Sadie was at her grandmother's and Bucky brought in flavour of the month Samantha and for the whole week Y/N could hear nothing but loud moaning. She wanted the loud moaning as well so she nodded her head.

Bucky grinned like a devil, kissing down her collarbone all the way to the hem of her underwear. His hands slide inside her underwear, pulling it down her legs and throwing it somewhere into the floor. He kissed the side of her knee, the 2 day old stubble of his unshaved beard burning the skin in a very good manner. His kisses continued down her knee to her calf as he placed her legs on his shoulders and lowered down to her heat. Bucky swore in that moment he could happily die in the middle of her legs happily surrounded by her scent. He kissed and bit the inside of her thighs, definitely leaving marks which would make sure she would never forget. His thumbs spread her wide open and his head fully lowered now, his tongue licking a long yet slow strip up to her clit. The sensation was new for sure, it was nothing like what she had ever felt before and as she was learning to adapt to the new feelings his tongue was causing, he starting suckling on her clit, his tongue ever so slightly teasing the top of it. She gasped in a moan, her hands gripping at his hair.

      - Bucky! - she said in between shallow breathes bringing him immense enjoyment that he was causing her. He started eating her out like a starved man, her fluids coating his chin and neck as he went in for another lick before he started to use his fingers. Her nails gripped the sheets.

      - Chris didn't treat you like this? - he came back up biting the side of her knee. - I bet not, which is why you're so wet.

      - Go back. - she almost pouted and Bucky couldn't say no. He went back down and started suckling on her clit while his fingers pumping in and out of her hole. Her fingers tightened around the sheets and on his hair and she started to see black spots in her vision, she attempted to control her breathe but found herself unable to do so as Bucky's mouth and fingers brought her to orgasm.

Her back fully hit the mattress and she stared at the lights in her bedroom with her mouth softly open as her breathes came out softly. Bucky kissed his way up to the corner of her mouth before fully kissing her, his knee rubbing against her core. She whimpered, leaning her forehead against his shoulder.

      - You're good? - he asked, kissing the side of her head.

      - I'm good. - her hands made their way to the top of his sweats, trying to pull them down.

      - Someone's needy. - he grinned as he helped her shake him out of his sweats and underwear. He grabbed her thighs and put her in positions before grabbing his cock and lining it up with her entrance. He looked into her eyes once more looking for reassurance before he sheathed himself inside her, groaning as he did so. Her legs wrapped around his hips, helping him bottom out as he leaned towards her to kiss her once more. - Can I move, baby?

      - Yes, please.

His hips moved ever so slightly making her moan which was a sign for him to move. His hand held hers and he began to thrust in and out, his balls hitting her bottom as he did. He drowned her moans with a kiss, moving again fast enough to make the headboard hit the wall. The bedroom filled up with their moans and the smell of sex as she reached the her last orgasm of the night. Once Bucky felt her release, he began chasing his own, throwing his head back and groaning. He finished inside of her, ropes of white spilling out from her hole and in the sheets.

He fell to her side and smiled, merely happy to look at the sight of her before the two fell asleep.

(...)

She woke up next morning to the faint chatter and laughter downstairs. She rubbed her eyes, looking at the state of the room. Memories came rushing to her and she couldn't help but slightly smiled as she wrapped herself in her robe and made her way downstairs. Sadie was dressed and was sat at the table eating pancakes while Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee.

      - Daddy did your hair, huh? - she said to Sadie as she reached her, noticing her lobbed ponytail. She took the scrunchie off and started to plaid the hair.

      - Thank you! - she said through the food she was eating.

      - Sleep well? - Bucky asked as he hid a smirk behind his coffee cup.

      - I did, did you? Sore? - she asked as she grabbed a cup of coffee herself. - You look a bit blushed still, Sergeant.

      - Are you busy this afternoon?

      - Depends.

      - Reservations downtown at 7?

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @feddefy

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

oooh I got one! prompt 74 with any of the follower!bishops, where they get hurt on a crusade and reader, who is a healer finds them and helps them <333

74) "I think I broke my leg!"

.......

"I can't believe this...betrayed by my own-!!"

"Lord Kallamar?"

Surprised by the voice, Kallamar looked up at you, the figure dressed in white tattered robes, clean of any and all ichor. The metal halo behind your head reflected the sunlight from above Anchordeep, making it seem as though it were glowing.

Now he remembers.

You're one of the many nameless Healers in his former army of cultists and devotees. He thought most of them were culled by the Lamb at this point, yet you were somehow still alive.

"You have returned to us in such a miniscule form." You mused, to which you saw him tense up, trying to shuffle away.

So far, every creature here was trying to kill him during his crusade, and he wasn't sure if you were going to be any different.

He knew should've gone to the tailor first; at least they wouldn't attack him on-sight just because his red robes remind them of the Lamb..and that his defeat permanently shattered his image as a leader.

"Back away from me! I'm---ow!!!" Feeling a sudden sharp pain in one of his legs, Kallamar stopped moving and looked down, realizing it didn't look quite right. "Ah...a-ahaha...I-I think I broke my leg...!"

"Do not fear, my lord. I will make it all better." Floating down to the ground, you gently reached your hands out to him, green magic appearing from your fingertips. "How did this happen, if I may ask?"

"Well..I fell.." He mumbled quietly, and you looked at him, mishearing him.

"What happened?"

"I-I fell while fleeing from one of those sea creatures..." Red dusted his face as he averted his gaze, embarrassed to be seen like this--especially by someone he used to rule over.

But you seemed to show absolutely no bias nor resentment towards him, even though he now wore the same robes of the enemy cult.

Part of him was afraid you'd refuse and leave him to suffer on his own, although he remembers that your singular job is to be a healer. And despite knowing that he wasn't some all-powerful god anymore and allowed himself to be beaten by Lamb into submission...you wanted to help him anyways. You didn't huff or laugh or show any indication that you thought of him as pathetic for breaking his leg over a simple fall.

Instead, you quietly allowed your magic to go to work, mending the broken done and repairing the torn flesh. Soon it set itself back into place without causing him further pain, making it good as new.

Like nothing even happened.

"You should be good now, my lord. Do be careful with your new mortal vessel." Bowing your head, you rose to your feet and watched as Kallamar slowly got up.

"Only now I see how fragile this body is..damned Lamb.." He grunted, checking out his leg before picking up his backpack. Then he gazed up at you. "What's your name?"

You blinked. "My name..?"

"Yes, that's what I said. I never knew your name, but I wanna know it now."

"I see, then...I'm [y/n]." You answered, surprised and flattered that he asked.

It's been so long since you've said your name to anyone, that you've almost forgotten it entirely.

"Well, [y/n]..would you care to accompany me for the remainder of my crusade? I was sent to retrieve as many crystal shards as I could carry...but I keep running into dead ends, and death traps.." Kallamar shuddered. "And I-"

"You needn't worry, my lord. I would be happy to join you." Although he couldn't see your smile under your hood, he could hear the delight in your voice, and chuffed.

Why were you so kind to him? Why did you treat him as though he was still your ruler?

"None of this bothers you at all?" He vaguely gestured to himself. "You don't see me as your "enemy"?"

"I only see the injured and the sick, and I heal them." You assured him, chuckling softly. "Do not fret. It matters not what form you take or how limited it is, my lord-"

"Okay, I'm not your "lord" anymore. Just Kallamar is fine."

"...very well, Kallamar. Then let us go. I know a safe path."

[pinkrose787]

You Can't Spell Apologize Without Lie

Summary: Bill comes into Ford's dream to apologize.

Ao3 Link

Ever since Bill died, Ford has slept a lot easier. No longer does he have to worry about that damn demonic triangle invading his dreams and tormenting him with threats of destroying his dimension.

That was until tonight.   

In tonight’s dream, he is in the Mystery Shack back when it was still his laboratory. It’s vivid in a way that his dreams never are. Except for whenever he dreamt about Bill.

“Hiya, Sixer! Did ya miss me? Admit it, you missed me.” A familiar perky voice comes from behind him.

Ford swivels around. Standing, or more precisely floating, before him is his triangular tormentor. Exactly the same as he was when Ford last saw him. Except for the crack that runs across his face filled with static. Likely a scar from when Stan punched Bill.

His eye has that smile to it. A smile that used to make Ford’s heart flutter with affection for his “muse”. Now, his heart pounds in fear of his manipulator. “Bill! You’re supposed to be dead!”

“But I’m not! I’m here!”

He takes a step back. A pointless action given Bill’s abilities. “Leave my mind this instant!”

Bill puts up his hands like he’s trying to soothe a panicked horse. He floats closer to Ford. “Listen, I will eventually. But I want you to hear me out first. Please.”

That gives Ford pause. In all his years of knowing Bill, never once did he say please. And there’s a genuineness in his voice. A vulnerability to it. But it could all be a trick. That’s what Bill does. He tricks and deceives to get what he wants.

Bill sighs. His eye looks at the ground. “I know you don’t trust me. And I know why. But it’s been so long. I’ve changed.”

“It’s only been 3 years. That’s barely any time to me, and almost nothing to you.”

“Where I’m at time works differently. It’s been 3 years to you and several eons to me.��� He floats over to Ford. Puts his arm over his shoulder, the exact same way that he used to when Ford admired him. Likely a trick to get him to trust him. “You’re a smart guy, you get how all this relativity stuff works.”

Ford pushes Bill off of him. This time his tricks aren’t going work on him. “I don’t care where you are or how time works! I want you gone!”

“Look, I’ve spent all this time being ‘dead’,” He uses air quotes when he says dead. “in this asylum that makes Hell look like Disney World. There’s been nothing to do except reflect on my life.”

“It sounds like you’re in a place that you belong.”

“Yeah, I am.”

That’s not the answer Ford was expecting. At least, not said so sincerely. Still, he can’t forget that this is probably a trick. “So, you’re here to escape from there? That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No! No.” Bill shakes his head. “I came here to apologize.”

“You came here to apologize?” Ford heard him correctly. He knows he did. It’s impossible for him to mishear Bill in these dreams. The concept of Bill ever apologizing is so alien to him that mishearing a voice that is psychically projected into his head is more plausible.

“Yes, I did.” Bill takes off his hat. He holds it in his hands. “I realized that I messed up. Badly. You were the best thing to happen to me in a trillion years, and I didn’t see that. I was blinded by my own ambition and after destroying my dimension I was too scared to let anyone get to close. So, I told myself that you were nothing but a tool to me. A means to an end. But you weren’t. You were everything to me. You were the one person who could understand me.”

A tear forms in Bill’s eye. Combined with holding his hat in hands, he looks so vulnerable and pathetic. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“So, you came here for forgiveness. Let me guess, this asylum place will only let you out if  get forgiveness from everyone you’ve ever wronged.” He looks Bill straight in the eye. “Well, you’re not getting it from me.” 

Bill puts his hat back on. It seems like he’s actually hurt by what Ford said? “That’s not it. They actually didn’t want me coming back here. They said it was a bad idea.”

“Well, maybe they were right. You should have never come back here.”

“I know, I just…”

“Just what? Just thought apologizing would undo everything you’ve done?” Ford’s voice starts to rise. “You manipulated me. You tortured me. You tried to kill my family. You damn near destroyed my dimension! I almost lost my brother because of you!”

“No! I…” Bill shouts.

Ford ignores him. “Do you want to know the worst thing you did?”

He looks Bill straight in his eye. Making sure that the demon is listening to his next words. “You made me fall in love with you. Even after every horrible thing you did to me, I still loved you! Even though I knew it was stupid and irrational to love someone who only wanted to hurt me, I still did!”

For once in his life, Bill Cipher doesn’t have anything to say.

“There were even parts of my brain telling me that it wasn’t that bad. That I’m being overdramatic. That being with you is better than being without you. And these thoughts tortured me for years. They haunted me on my coldest nights when I journeyed through the dimensions.”

“I’ve changed! I’m better now! I swear!” Bill cries.

“Well, I don’t care how much better you are! You could be the kindest person in all the dimensions who saves kittens from trees and I wouldn’t give a damn. Because it doesn’t matter how much you’ve changed, it still doesn’t negate all the horrible things you did!”

“I know that. But…”

“But nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought that apologizing would help you heal. Give you closure and all that junk.”  

“You thought it would heal me. Thought it would give me closure.” Ford rolls his eyes. “Well thank you for your consideration, but I was healing fine without you. I had just gotten to the point where I’m able to see a yellow triangle without spiraling into a panic attack. But now that’s in the trash, because of you.”

Bill rubs his arm. Not looking Ford in the eyes. “I really thought it would help.” He says in a low voice. “Honest.”

“Do you want to know how I know you haven’t changed? Every single sentence is about how you feel, what you think, how what you’ve done has affected you. There hasn’t been a single time where you have acknowledged how your actions have hurt me. You haven’t even done the bare minimum of asking how I’ve been doing. Because if you did you’d know that I’ve been doing better than I ever have without you.”

“Well, you haven’t given me an opportunity to. You keep cutting me off.”

“Because every time you open your damn mouth, you manipulate me. Every. Single. Time. But I’m not going let you this time. I’m done with you and your lies.”

Bill sighs. “I’m done with all of that. I promise.”

“Goodbye, Bill. If I never see you again, I want you to know that I hate you. More than I have ever hated anyone. You ruined my life, and for that I’ll never forgive you.”

What seems to be tear forms in Bill Cipher’s eye. “I’m sorry.” His voice fades.

Ford wakes up with a jolt. He’s covered in sweat. His breathing is heavy.

He looks around. He’s no longer in the dream.

Now, he’s back in the cabin of the Stan o’ War II. Stan sleeps on the bunk below him. The sound of his snores fill the cabin. The ship creaks as the waves rock it back and forth.

There’s no chance of him falling back asleep. He doesn’t want to risk seeing Bill again. That and his heart is still pounding in his chest. Looking at his watch, it reads 3 am.

He climbs out of bed, careful not to wake Stan, and heads out onto the deck.

It isn’t much lighter out here, but at least there are the stars. Out here in the Artic, there’s no light pollution. The stars shine brilliantly. Ford can find all the different constellations without needing a map of the sky. Ursa Major, Orion, Gemini.

If there is one thing Ford missed during his travel through the dimensions it was the stars. Sure, there were countless stars in all sorts of dimensions. But none of them equated to the beauty of the ones in this one. Looking at them he’s reminded that he’s back.

He’s home.

Though the stars are a source of comfort, there’s still a deep panic within him. Bill is back. He talked to him. His adrenaline levels are the same as if he was being hunted by a polar bear. Frankly, he’d rather deal with a polar bear than Bill.

He hears the floorboards creak behind him. Seems like Stan woke up. “You’re up early. You trying to map out the stars or something?” Stan says.

“I saw Bill in my dream,” Ford says point-blank. There’s no point in hiding it. Nor does he want to. He doesn’t want to be alone in dealing with Bill anymore. Every single time he’s tried, it’s almost ruined his life.

“Are you sure? You have been having a lot dreams about Bill since Weirdmageddon.” The worry in Stan’s voice is palpable.

Ford sighs. “This dream didn’t resemble any of the others. All of those dreams are strange and disjointed. Jumping from one event to another for seemingly no reason. This was one was as clear as day.”

“So he’s back? How? I killed that little triangle jerk!” Stan exclaims.

“You did. He’s still dead, and he has a scar on his face to prove it. I think he told me that he’s in some sort of prison dimension now?” Ford sighs. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What else did he say? Because I swear if that wise guy threatened you-” Stan shakes his fist.

“No, he didn’t threaten me. In fact, he apparently came because he wanted to apologize."

“Apologize? That’s gotta be some sort of trick.”

“That’s what I thought too, but no he seemed genuinely sincere.”

“Eh, I doubt it. I know the likes of him.” Stan leans back against the railing of the boat. “Met plenty of them over the course of my life. And let me tell you their apologies are never sincere.”

Ford rests his arms on the railing. “You may be right.” He sighs. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. I keep thinking I have Bill figured out, then he pulls something like this.”

“You should take what you do know about him, that he’s a lying conniving jerk who wanted to kill you and destroy our dimension, and base your opinion on that. So, he apologized.” Stan shrugs. “That’s just words. Don’t mean nothing.”

“You’re right.”

“Course, I am. I’m always right!”

“What frustrates me is that I feel like I’ve gone backwards. Right when I thought I put everything to rest.” Ford hits the railing. “He comes back and ruins it. Now, I feel like I did before Weirdmageddon. Terrified that he’s going to come back and destroy me.”

Stan puts his arm over Ford. “Look, how bout this? Next time, he comes back, I’ll go into your dream and punch him dead again.”

“I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Eh, I’m sure you’ll find a way with that smart guy brain of yours.” Stan starts giving ford a noogie.

Ford laughs. “Okay, okay. I’ll find a way to let you into my dreams.” He playfully pushes Stan away.

“Good. Cause there ain’t no way I’m letting that stupid little jerk come back and hurt you again. You hear?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He has a smile on his face. Most of the tension in Ford’s body is gone. Stan always was able to bring Ford back down and out of his own head when they were kids. Frankly, he doesn’t know how he managed without Stan.

But then again, he does know. He didn’t. He got swindled by a demon and became a criminal in multiple dimensions. Not a single part of Ford doubts the idea that if he had let Stan back in a lot earlier, then none of that would have happened.

There’s a moment of silence between the two of them. “Hey, Stan.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

[hastalavistabyebye]

Hiii :3

How about jedi Fox and the seagulls?XDD That sounded so fun :D

Hi !! Here's for you <3

The Jedi Fox au is one that's been rotting in my brain for quite some time x'D (I will properly get to it soon enough)

The starting idea is that Fox is Force sensitive but also Force exhausted, which is what keeps him far from any Jedi attention. That is until Palpatine tortures him so bad, he screams in the Force loud enough for the entire Temple to hear him, up to the younglings. (Palpatine doesn't notice his pain is a little bit too psychically clear because he's too focused on cackling evily between other reasons).

Some things happen (among which Fox escaping the Jedi for a little bit longer because he's a slippery little shit like that who learned to escape by evading angry medics and senators) but Palpatine gets killed and the guard gets bundle up in the Jedi's custody and healing halls, Marshal Commander first in line.

Then it'll follow Fox's adventures with his force sensitivity and the beginning of his path as a Jedi learner.

Have the very beginning of it :

Fox had always felt like he was running away.

When he was a cadet, he was running from the Kaminoans and the trainers. Hiding behind his perfect marks. If he was the best they couldn’t harm him. They would only see how good he was and none of his defects. Escaping in the vents when things were getting too much, when he needed to disappear completely. He tried his best to be a shadow, a ghost when he wasn’t observed in training or safely tucked away in his bunk with his batchers. He ran until he escaped Tipoca and its sterile, white, sealed off walls. 

He succeeded. Fox ran straight to Geonosis. And he ran straight through Geonosis. 

Seagulls stop it now is part of this au, after the main story. It follows poor Oops (a Guard no longer shiny) having the misfortune of mishearing something Yoda said and be vocally confused about it to Visor, one member of B Squad (aka the guard mayhem and trouble makers of an illegal black ops squad).

What Oops misheard is obviously Yoda singing about seagulls. What B Squad ends up doing is a audio montage thanks to recodings of Yoda speaking, to make it a song about seagulls poking at his head. Then they anonymously broadcasted it in the Vode Holonet server, of course.

Oops was standing guard next to Kara while a few of the ex-High Generals were having a meeting. She knew it was regarding the Younglings and the crèches. Well, it was supposed to be about the Jedi tubies. But she had been toying with her helmet’s mic sensibility last night, because Ghost, Grabber and her were trying to improve their voice-to-text software. Not only would it help the Vode gone deaf, but it would have helped her with her own hearing problems too. If she could read what was being said, she couldn't misheard anyone anymore ! But as of now it was only a problem. Her mic was picking grating in the vents. It was barely audible, but it seemed to cover every other sound to her. She just couldn't hear anything else. Grat grat bzz gratgrat. 

And she really was focusing on the meeting ! She wanted to ignore that mouse droid. But it was so loud, so distracting. The voices seemed all mushed up and muffled by that noise.

Until she heard something really weird and blurted a question in internal comms without thinking.

“Why is Grand Master Yoda talking about seagulls ?!” 

WIP game

[hypnoneghoul]

go hypnone, if it's okay could I ask for something with rain and his physical pains? my feet and wrist have flaired up for no real reason this week and it made me think of him.

never gonna say no to some projecting onto rain. also i hope your feet and wrist stop giving you hard time asap :/

580 words, hurt/comfort/fluff

“Did my favorite water ghoul die in his sleep?” Swiss burst through Rain’s door, no regards to anyone’s privacy as usual. He walked over to the bed and the Rain-shaped lump on it. “It’s nearing lunch and you haven’t had breakfast. You love breakfast, raincloud, are you okay?”

“What do you think?” he growled from under all the covers.

“Rain,” Swiss said sternly, in that specific voice that the water ghoul knew all too well. He and Swiss had made an arrangement ages ago, that when Rain acted like an asshole towards someone who didn’t deserve it because of his pain, Swiss would scold him. It worked.

“‘m sorry,” Rain mumbled.

“It’s alright.” The multi ghoul smiled sadly, knowing now that it was indeed a bad day for Rain. He sat by him on the edge of the bed and put a hand over the lump made of Rain and the bedding. “Can I see your pretty face, princess?”

With a loud grumble the lump shifted and Rain’s head poked out, eyes puffy with purple under them. “Hi, Bambi.”

“Hi, Swiss.”

The multi ghoul laid down on his side—as close to Rain as the blankets and comforters he had wrapped around himself would allow—and kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m sorry, princess. It sucks. Anything I can do?”

“No, it’ll pass, just–” the water ghoul sighed. “Just lay with me, okay? Hold me?”

Swiss smiled and leaned in for another kiss, this time to the other’s lips. “Always, raincloud.”

He shucked off his jeans as Rain wiggled an arm out to lift the contents of his nest. Swiss chuckled at that—the reminder about how a nest should look like on the tip of his tongue. The water ghoul was famous for getting under his nest rather than into it.

Swiss crawled back in and laid on his back, letting Rain choose how he wanted to cuddle, also not wanting to jostle his aching vessel by pulling him close. The water ghoul shuffled down a bit and glued himself to the other’s side, laying his head on Swiss’ chest.

“Can you warm me up a bit, too?” Rain asked, looking up at Swiss with his big, cerulean blue eyes. The multi ghoul nodded, leaning down to kiss the water ghoul as he kicked up his temperature. He smuggled a tiny bit of quintessence between the waves of infernal heat. He immediately felt a bit guilty for that, knowing Rain didn’t exactly agree to it, but he couldn’t not do it. 

“I love you, princess,” Swiss muttered quietly into his hair, squeezing him tightly, but carefully. “Every damn day I wish I could just– take it all away from you, you have no idea–”

“Swiss,” Rain said. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, but–”

“Baby, you do blame yourself. You stink of it,” the water ghoul chuckled, poking Swiss’ belly under the comforters. 

“Excuse me– I don’t stink!”

“Well, not all the time. Just when you're sick with worry for your… favorite water ghoul? That’s what you said or did I mishear?” Rain threw a leg over the multi ghoul’s thighs and laid himself out on top of him, his chin perched up on his sternum.

“Oh, it’s not like you have a lot of competition… but yeah,” Swiss laughed, “I guess you are. And I guess I may stink sometimes, but it’s the smell of love, Bambi.”

The water ghoul grinned and batted his eyelashes at him. “Sure, sure… I love you, too.”

[scrimblo-soab]

I think we can all agree that season eight of VLD sucks. It wasn’t well written and the Allura/Lance relationship was so rushed.

But

I personally like only one episode. And a couple seconds of episode one. I hate the rest of episode one, it was so rushed.

I loved the episode where it was kind of like a vlog of what it was like on the ship, it was a really interesting concept, and I just liked how the episode felt compared to all the other episodes in the show.

In the first episode, when I was rewatching the show, at around 19-ish minutes I think(???), right before the toast to whatever whatever, Lance is refusing to set Keith up on a date with his sister, and in the background while Allura and his mom are talking you can hear him say “never! Not in a million decapheobs! Okay? All that guy likes are knives and space wolf! Holy moly that would be terrible! No! No!… and he’s gay.”

SO LIKE??? I COULD BE MISHEARING IT, BUT SEVERAL OTHER PEOPLE I KNOW HAVE BEEN LIKE “YEAH I HEARD AND HES GAY” SO???

Honestly idk if anyone else noticed, but this is the only good parts about season eight. It still sucks.

[novamixs]

change - iwaizumi

it’s hard to feel normal when you’re anything but. you wake up, wondering how many more days you’ll have to until it’s over. you get up, dreading the state you’ll see yourself in as you look into the bathroom mirror. you can’t recognize yourself. when did you start looking like such a mess? you decide that today is the day you’ll make things better for yourself.

take a shower, brush your teeth, change your clothes, then lose around 36% of your motivation when you see the pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the bedroom. that can wait for tomorrow. you’re getting better after all, right? baby steps! you open the window in the kitchen, taking a moment to manipulate yourself into thinking things will change, but this happens every time. mid contemplation, your stomach growls. you’re hungry. it’s been quite a while since you’ve felt that feeling. 

you open the fridge with a bit of force (did you get weaker?) only to find a spoiled carton of milk, some apples, and an energy drink. guess a meal will have to wait until later. or tomorrow. at this point in your day, around 50% of the motivation to get better has faded away, and the other half never existed in the first place. you made it two hours without going back to bed - a record for the week!

walking back to your bedroom is your version of the walk of shame; today is just another failed attempt of feeling like you have a purpose. you sink into the familiar comfort of your too-big-for-one-person bed. your eyes drift shut, just as they have for the last three days, and in 10 minutes you’re out cold. your mind has decided to have mercy on you today and not let you have time to think about what the hell you’re doing with your life. 

your eyes flutter open at a rough 6:45 am, the earliest you’ve been up in a while. today is the day, you think. having woken up this early was enough to convince yourself you have the ability to rule the world. the routine continues: shower, teeth, change, save the laundry for tomorrow. in your new outfit for the day, you decide it’s a great day to go to the coffee shop down the street.

you squint your eyes as you walk outside, the sun smiling in your face as if it’s saying i am everything you aren’t! i am related to happiness and warmth and good days! you decide that the sun is not going to ruin your day. today is supposed to be the day! you were up early, you put on a decent outfit that won’t earn you weird looks, you went out of the building, what could possibly ruin this for you?

a coffee shop can. that’s what. what in the world were you thinking, coming to a place where every chirpy morning person in the world is at the same time? you debate turning around, but are reminded of the sun as it beats down onto you. you want to be happy, like the sun is every day. you exhale shakily as you push on the pull door. strike one. you correct yourself, hearing the bell chime as you walk inside. you’ve never cared about what people think of you because they have no idea what it’s like, yet you feel small under the eyes of everyone in the shop.

you walk up to the register, ordering your usual. or what you think was your usual. it’s been a few weeks since you’ve come here. the cashier tries to make small talk, and as appreciative as you are for it, you answer with one word responses or shaking your head. you mishear one of her questions, answering with a yes instead of if you want your receipt printed or thrown away. strike two. you haven’t been a people person in some years now. you pay with the $10 bill you found in a drawer, taking a seat in a booth in the corner farthest from anyone and everyone.

the smell of the coffee and the conversations of the people around you make you feel more anxious than it used to. maybe you should start going outside more. you space out, staring at the empty seat in front of you as your mind wanders. how long has it been since you’ve talked to any of your friends? are they worried about you? or are they used to this behavior already? you are shaken out of your thoughts when your name is called.

you hesitantly get up from your seat, walking to grab your drink and sit back down. upon grabbing it, you realize it’s hot. you remember that you get cold drinks in the morning. oh well. what’s so bad about change? you swiftly turn around, only to knock into the broad chest of a man you have never seen in your life, your drink flying to the ground.

he backs up quickly, eyebrows raised in shock and concern. oh. oh wow. he’s gorgeous. suddenly you think you should’ve paid more attention to your appearance while getting ready this morning. “i’m so sorry,” he says, reaching behind your figure to grab napkins. it snaps you out of your trance, and you’re aware of the stupid expression on your face. were you staring?

you turn around, also grabbing a few napkins before kneeling down beside him. “it’s not your fault,” you say quietly, focused on cleaning the mess on the floor. “i wasn’t watching where i was going.”

he picks up the last piece of ice, dumping it into the now empty cup as he looks at you with all of his glory. “can i buy you another one? it’s only fair.”

any other day you would’ve denied. you would’ve taken this as a sign that maybe today just isn’t your day. but with a gorgeous man right in front of your eyes, you think that today is a day for change and the only way to go is up. you nod, unable to find the word ‘yes’ in your vocabulary. strange, considering how it was the only thing you could say ten minutes ago. he helps you up, asking you what you ordered. you consider telling him a cold drink, but stick to the hot one you just spilled all over the shop’s floor.

he pays, and leads you to the booth you were just in. he sits across from you and looks away, giving you a few seconds to really look at him. he’s muscular. looks like he takes good care of himself. if you were yourself from two years ago, you might’ve tried hitting on him, but too much has happened for you to be that person again in your lifetime. 

“i’m sorry again, for making you spill your drink,” he says, and you can hear how sincere he is in his voice. a well communicated man, too. what a catch. he looks back over to you, holding eye contact. “what’s your name?” it takes you a second to process what he’s asked, but you tell him as soon as you do. it must’ve come out faster than you realized, because he chuckles softly at you before responding. “i’m iwaizumi. it’s nice to meet you, even in.. this circumstance.” he says, getting quieter towards the end. you feel yourself crack a smile for the first time in ages. “it’s nice to meet you, too,” you say back, embracing the no-teeth smile on your face. 

“how’s your morning been?” he asks, his voice smooth sounding. you realize he’s making small talk, just as the cashier with you not even an hour ago. however, this time, you think that you do not mind it as much, since he’s looking at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on and asking as if it really matters to him.

you run your morning back at his question, and you come to a conclusion that had he not bumped into you and spill your coffee on the floor, you would be back to that same slump you’ve been in and out of for as long as you can remember. you look away, embarrassed as you answer him. “i don’t think you would believe me if i said this is the best morning i’ve had in weeks.”

he raises his eyebrows again, smiling at your words. the view is better than any ocean, any mountain, any sky could ever have. “that makes me feel less terrible about running into you, then.” you open your mouth to speak again, finding it easier and easier to talk to him, even with the minimal amount of conversation you’ve had.

just as your voice comes out, his name is called. he turns his head to the counter, walking quickly there and back to slide your drink over to you. you mumble a thank you, taking a sip of the drink. it’s good, to your surprise.

you talk with him for a few more minutes, paying more attention to his voice than your now lukewarm drink in front of you. mid sentence, his phone buzzes, and he checks the screen. you see his face fall slightly, opening something on the device. “i have to go, but i’d love to hang out with you again.” he tells you, sliding his phone over to you. you look down at the screen, your eyes noticing it as a contact. you freeze for a minute, then put your number in with your name at the top. you slide his phone back over, a content look on your face. “just send me a text. i’m free whenever.”

he smiles, raising from his seat. “i’ll see you later then.” you watch as he waves goodbye, walking out of the shop. you exhale, feeling fresh, like the way you want to feel when you decide to clean up around your apartment. you feel normal. you feel like maybe, just maybe, that single interaction has prevented you from continuing to dig straight down. your phone buzzes, and you see an unsaved number:

tomorrow at 3?

this is iwaizumi btw

you feel that stupid smile on your face again. the one you used to have while talking to your friends in high school. a happy smile. 

sounds perfect

see you tomorrow

you shut off your phone after saving his contact, finishing your (now cold) drink. today is a good day to go grocery shopping. you get up from your spot, leaving the shop, walking to the store a few streets away. you always thought that there was never a point in change. that a routine would help you get better, and that sticking to it would get you to forget about the feelings that cloud your mind.

after today, you decide that breaking that routine and spilling your coffee was the best thing to ever happen to you. what’s so bad about change when it gets you to meet a new potential friend, and go to the store, and get a new drink that you now deem as your favorite? what’s so bad about change when it helps you feel like a normal person, when you’re anything but?

--

a/n: this is extremely self indulgent i'm so sorry and i'm embarrassed that this is my tumblr debut but i hope you enjoy ☺️ this is for all my iwaizumi loving friends in a mental slump rn

[captain-mj]

Imagine if Graves started to call Price absolutely ridiculous pet names(Pookie bear, Snuggles, Doodlebug, etc.) To get on his nerves, but Price secretly starts to like it. Then Graves just randomly stops and Price corners him asking him why he stopped.

Time to push my Cajun Graves onto everyone.

“Can you pass me that, dumpling?”

Price almost died. Right then and there. In front of everyone.

The entire 141 finally made quiet.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said can you pass me that?” Graves looked mildly annoyed. Farah and Ghost were exchanging looks to make sure they both heard it.

Price chalked it up to mishearing until the item, a mug, was in Graves’s hand.

“Thank you, dumpling.”

The reaction was immediate. Soap coughed so hard his face turned red. Gaz stared at them. Ghost had his face on the table but it wasn’t clear if he was laughing or crying.

Graves poured the coffee into the mug and made the escape before anyone could manage to get words.

Price just stared at where Graves was.

Dumpling??

-

For a while, it seemed to have stopped. No big deal. Probably just Graves in a silly mood.

Price was talking about how Brandy was made after Graves asked. He had a feeling he was just humoring his interests, but Price knew Graves didn't like talking that much, so they both got something out of it.

"Stud muffin, I really don't get how you remember all this stuff." Graves's accent thickened when he said that.

Price paused, just staring at him for a minute. Like before, it mostly caught him off guard, not made him upset.

"What did you call me?"

"Stud muffin. American phrase." Graves smiled at him. "So about the distilling."

"What does it mean?"

"It's just a nickname, John. What else were you going to say?"

Price couldn't remember, feeling more flustered than usual. He ended up picking a random spot and guessing by the way Graves smirked, it was the wrong one.

While Graves was away, he looked it up.

stud·muf·fin

/ˈstədˌməf(ə)n/

a man perceived as sexually attractive, typically one with well-developed muscles.

Price felt his face heat up even more. He had learned from Alex that dumpling was just a term of endearment, but stud muffin seemed substantially more flirty.

And in public!

While they were getting in the car, Graves leaned into him. "Thanks for the night out, Doodlebug."

Price's internal monologue was just screaming. "Any... Any um..." He took a deep breath. "Anytime."

Graves laughed a little.

-

The next one. The next one Price already knew.

"Ain't you a Casanova." Every time. Every time Graves used one of these godforsaken nicknames, his accent dripped in his voice like honey and Price wanted to drown in it. Normally, Graves kept it carefully tamped down, trying to sound professional and neutral. Price would be a liar if he ever said he didn't absolutely love his voice.

Price found himself just staring again.

Graves stared back at him for a minute, still smiling but there was a bit of tension to his shoulders.

"Yes." Price said slowly and Graves laughed hard.

"I love you so much, beau." This nickname, Price was more than familiar with. It meant handsome in French and Graves used it pretty often.

"I love you too, honey?" Price said the nickname like a question and Graves's lips pursed slightly.

-

The next time, they were in bed. More precisely, Price was in Graves. It was slow, lazy sex, more kissing than thrusting between them.

"Oh, Lover boy, don't know how I managed without you." Graves mumbled above him, moving to straddle him.

Once again, sirens in Price's brain. He felt so flustered suddenly and at a loss for words. Graves didn't seem to notice, continuing to move.

Once they were done, Price hugged him to his chest.

Lover boy might be his favorite yet. Though, that may just be because of how Graves says it. Or what Graves said it with. Or anything.

Price held Graves tight so he wouldn't look up and see how red he was.

-

He stopped. Two weeks and no one new nicknames. No reappearance of any of the old ones either. Price was back to strictly being sweetheart and if it was special occasion, beau.

"I can't fucking live like this." He groaned into his pillows. Just the thought of Graves's voice, calling him those nicknames, made him melt. They were all so damn cute and Graves was so fucking cute and...

Price stood up and went to find him. He ended up cornering him in the hallway, watching him press against the wall.

"Everything alright, John?"

"You stopped using the nicknames. The cute southern ones."

Graves looked surprised before blushing. "Ah. Yes. I..."

"Why?"

"Well... I only really did them to tease you... But you didn't seem to like them so I stopped."

Price stared at him.

"You're doing it again! When you just look at me and you don't talk. I thought you didn't like them so I stopped!"

"I like them. A lot."

"Oh." Graves stared up at him. "Which one was your favorite?"

"Lover boy." No hesitation. "I thought it was cute..."

Graves laughed softly. "You were so dramatic. I thought you were going to rip my head off, pumpkin."

"I also like when you use your accent. It sounds pretty." Price pressed against him, trapping him. "Use it more."

"That an order lover boy?"

"It is, stud muffin."

Graves clearly shut down, having almost the same reaction Price did. Hearing that phrase in his british accent made his thoughts go fuzzy.

Price left before his brain started working again.

"God I love that man."

[pianokantzart]

Trying to translate a scene...

...or... at least a few simple sentences of a scene, specifically when Mario and Luigi are in the warp pipe in the Japanese dub of The Super Mario Bros Movie: X

In the English version, the exchange goes like this: Mario: "It's all going to be okay!" Luigi: "How is this going to be okay!?"

But in Japanese, it goes something like this (assuming I didn't mishear anything):

Mario: "Luigi! Shinpai sero na!" Luigi: "Niisan! Shinpai dayo!"

I know Japanese sentence structure is subject-object-verb. I know "shinpai" means worry, concern, or anxiety. "Na" at the end of a sentence can mean a lot of things: seeking confirmation, a rhetorical statement, or an imperative sentence (i.e a command). My guess is that it's seeking confirmation. Luigi ends his response with "dayo," which is often a pushier, more informal version of "desu," which I think is something of an english-equivalent of "to be"? (don't quote me on this I could be completely wrong.)

I don't know what "sero" means. If I'm hearing correct, and my source is correct, it's apparently either an auxiliary verb indicating a causative, an auxiliary verb indicating that someone has permission to do something, or an honorific for others' actions.

With all this in mind, this is my current take on the translation... Mario: "Luigi! You're worried!" Luigi: "Big Bro! This is worrying!!!" (see edit for correction!)

But there's a huge chance I got something wrong. Anyone who actually knows Japanese, please please please feel free to correct me!

EDIT: I got feedback from someone who's Japanese!

Big thanks to @hug-monster for the help! Mario doesn't say "Shinpai sero na!" he says "Shinpai suru na." Suru means "do." With this in mind, "na" in this context is an informal way of saying "not." So, put together, what Mario is actually saying is "Luigi! Don't worry!"

In this context, a more accurate translation of Luigi's response is "Bro! I am worried!"

[softness-and-shattering]

Saw/shared a post that mentioned 'youtube grammar' yesterday and I checked the tag and

Its basically the thing where people mishear words or phrases and then say it wrong. Some examples are

'manner of fact' instead of 'matter of fact', 'eck cetera' instead of 'et cetera' 'I could care less' v 'I couldn't care less'

And the poster blamed this on lowered education standards, lack of education, and basically people not learning grammar rules and not being able to break down what language a word is from to figure out pronounciation. Im not saying thats wrong, I dont know.

But I also have a running joke/recognition with friends who are bilingual or speak multiple languages, about how sounds get mixed up your head, and sometimes you'll even think of the right word but your muscle memory will write or type another. The example that started the conversation in earnest was me spelling the word 'pneumonic' instead of 'mnemonic'. (If you're going ooh this is his tumblr, hi! :D).

In a comment I was just writing, I wrote think instead of thing. I knew the word I wanted was thing, its the word I thought, its not the word I typed.

Also today I wrote 'mood' instead 'move'.

Its not a lack of education, or a misunderstanding of grammar, or mislearing a phrase. My fingers just mess it up sometimes, because somehow the link between thought and typing has to do with the sounds, not the root or the spelling or possibly even the language. Because, pneumonic.

I dont know if this holds the same with the spoken word, I dont know what those pathways are, and to begin with Im neither a linguist nor neurologist. Im just noticing patterns with myself and my friends.

If anyone does know facts or science about this, please do chime in!

[hyatoro]

In the mood for some angst so imagine if Franklin mishears reader talking about him and thinks she says something mean about him and starts crying but reader finds him and explains what happened

Franklin Russell

He'd been gone on a trip with his family for a while and was eager to see you again.

You’re on the phone with someone. That’s fine, he has a key to your place anyway.

You don’t notice him come in, and he just chills wondering what you’re talking about.

“Yeah, no. He’s really fucking clingy and I can’t go places because of him. It’s getting ridiculous!” “A while now. I’m getting sick and tired of this. He can’t seriously think this will last forever right?” “No yeah. I’m going to deal with him soon enough.”

Franklin hears this and his heart drops. Who else could you be talking about aside from him? What do you mean you can’t go places because of him? You can! You just have to take him sometimes. What? Sick and tired? Of him? What do you mean it won’t last forever? What? What? What???

The tears are falling before he realizes when he hears you sigh, saying goodbye as you hang up.

He bolts out of your house and back to his, locking himself in his room.

You jolt in surprise cause you didn’t realize anyone was home. You quickly deduct who it was though cause who else could it be?

You wonder what he was here for though and go find him at his place.

His door is locked. That’s fine. You just knock.

But when he yells at you not to come in, you’re shocked. Not only because of the way he yelled like that, but also because you could hear how watery his voice was.

Nope. Can’t leave him like this. That’s your boy and you’re not going to leave him alone when you don’t even know what’s wrong.

You pick the lock easily since it’s a simple indoor one for privacy and walk in. He’s buried himself in his multiple blankets, all crafted by him, and you take the time to peel the layers away.

He’s reluctant and teary, refusing to look at you when you finally reach him. It’s the kind of ugly cry where his face is red and he doesn’t want you to see him like this.

Is super confused when you hug him.

“What do you want? Are you finally going to deal with me?” he chokes out.

You’re confused by what he’s talking about.

“You’re tired of me!”

And it clicks. The call, the sudden rushing of footsteps, the tears.

You laugh and he takes offense to this, squirming out of your arms. “You think this is funny?!”

You apologize and quickly calm him down, bringing him back into your arms. And as heartbroken and mad as he is, you have always been and always will be his safe space. He can only fight for so long.

When he’s settled you wipe his tears and speak to him softly.

Turns out you had this blatant stalker that was creeping on you whenever you went to this area of town and you were getting annoyed. He listens with the utmost attention.

How dare someone do that to you? Hypocrite. Who the fuck did they think they were? When you were already his? Where did they get the fucking audacity?

He calms down in your arms and you two laugh about how silly he was being, jumping to conclusions like that.

But the back of his mind is planning all the ways to erase this nuisance of yours. You didn’t deserve to be pestered like this.

And in a few days you notice that the dude is gone, without you having to deal with it. You shrug it off. As long as it’s not your problem anymore then it’s all good. ♡✧( ु•⌄• )

[jiyansthesis]

NOT A ROOKIE ☆ ANYMORE

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

x fem reader

summary: it's been a few years, and you've quickly made it up the ranks with your craftmanship and sheer skill when it comes to hand-to-hand combat and guns. when you get put on a new mission, you never guessed who would be there to save you

note: part 2!! honestly some people wanted to know when pt.2 came out, so should i make a taglist for my ghost fics? just comment or msg me if you want me to put you on it! i don't really like this i feel like it's so rushed or something?? idk it doesn't click. THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A KISSING SCENE PLEASE B NICE

tw: brief mention of non-con (but does not happen to any character in past or during this ff)

pt.1 // not proofread

☆☆.

shadow.

shadows can be your greatest fear, not knowing what lies in the darkness ahead of you. an enemy, or is it your mind playing tricks on you?

it can also be a safe haven, a refuge from the blistering sun, or other things.

but that can simply be a facade, a trap for others to fall into.

using the shadows to your advantage can be lethal. being quiet, deliberate in your actions as you sneak up behind someone and take them out without causing alarm.

when harnessed correctly, shadows can be your greatest weapon.

. .

"i've got him in my sights. ready when you are." you said, staring at the back of your target's head through your scope.

you waited for confirmation, but no response came.

"captain?" you spoke, even momentarily taking your eyes off the man who isn't aware of what's about to be his untimely demise to inspect your radio.

"fuck." you wouldn't shoot without orders, having learned your lesson way back, during the mission right after you met ghost. that mission also led you to be called shadow.

you heard a crackle, and what you could make out to be, "go."

you immediately put your finger on the trigger, realigning your gun, and once you were ready, you let out a deep exhale and added pressure, the recoil always making you blink against your will. you watched as the man almost immediately slumped over.

"target down." you began packing up your gear and gun, trying to get to the rendezvous before anyone came to check out the noise.

"shadow. shadow, can you hear me? shadow, how copy?" you heard.

"captain? what's wrong?" you asked, already going down the stairs of the building, sprinting.

"did you shoot?" price sounded slightly worried.

"yes. didn't you give me the affirmative?" did you mishear him? fuck, the only reason why he wouldn't want you to shoot was probably because you shot the wrong target. "don't fucking tell me i shot the wrong person."

"no, you got the right one alright. i just need you to watch out. turns out a lot of people have already found out about your little assassination. they were ready for it. be careful making your way back. i've got a little surprise waiting for you here."

"a prize? you finally rewarding me for my hard work?" you chuckled, now on even higher alert for soldiers coming at you.

"honestly, it's up to you if you think if it's a prize."

"is it a medal? i fucking hate medals. the fuck am i gonna do with them?" you scowled, the balaclava you had on shifting as your nose scrunched up.

"nah, you might actually like this. just get here safe."

"i'm looking forward to this, price. don't disappoint me. or i'll make sure you won't touch another cigarette in your life." you grinned as you stuck to the darker areas, trying your best not to be seen by coincidence.

you paused, hearing loud footsteps. you could tell that it wasn't only one person, but multiple.

"fuck," you whispered under your breath. you took out your knife and strapped your gun onto yourself, ready to do some close combat.

you saw them turn the corner, seeing three men, all armed with guns. there was no way you were going to be able to take them all down, but you can hope that they wouldn't notice you.

you pulled your balaclava down even more on instinct, waiting for one of them to sound the alarm and shoot.

you stayed close to the wall, thankful for the shadows that were keeping you from their line of sight.

two of the men split off, turning left before they could make it to you, but one kept making his way over. as soon as he made it in arm's length to you, you quickly covered his mouth and lodge your knife into his throat, watching as he struggled.

"sorry man, i just had to." you frowned as you let him go to eventually die on the floor, retrieving your knife.

you continued on, realizing that the other two had went the way that you had to go. there was no other route that you could go on.

"fucking hell," you grabbed your gun again, ready to fire before the duo could notice you.

you followed them, and sooner or later you caught up. they kept walking, deep in conversation. letting out two quick shots, they had no time to react.

"that was unfair, wasn't it?" you said to yourself. as you made your way around the bodies, trying to get as far as possible before another group came along.

sadly enough, you couldn't get far enough before another trio intercepted your path, also all armed with guns.

you quickly raised your arms up. how the fuck were you getting out of this one?

"what are you doing here?" one of the men said, and you realized that you were far enough way from everyone you've killed for them to even known what you've done. maybe you could play off being one of them, but that would be very hard considering the fact your gear was so much different from theirs.

you looked at him questioningly as if you couldn't understand him, simply letting out a "huh?"

the trio looked at each other, then back at you. you weren't tricking anyone with the tactical gear you had on and gun in hand.

"come with us," one of them smirked. this fucking can't be good.

you knew you were outnumbered, especially with all of them having guns. there was no way you were going to be able to run away or get past killing one of them before you got shot down.

you nodded hesitantly, and the three huddled around you, one of them holding a metal barrel to your head. you could feel it through the fabric, and you began sweating. this was the closest to death you've ever been, and one wrong move could be the last move you would ever make.

they led you away from the bodies, and closer to where you were originally going to go, thankfully, and you made it to a big house, in better shape than all the other house around.

a cloth quickly made its way over your eyes, and someone pushed you to the floor, tying your legs together, but for some reason not tying your hands together, when that's the most useful thing you could have in this situation. you felt the weight of your gun being taken off your body and be set somewhere else.

"just wait a moment sweetheart, someone will be here to talk to you. they'll be so happy to see you," you could hear that guy smirk. when you got out of this situation, you would make sure you pinned his fucking balls to the wall.

you could feel their presence leave the room, and you went straight to your radio.

"price, you there?" you lowered your voice, not knowing when they could come back.

"shadow, where are you? you should've made it back by now." price responded.

"i've been captured. i'm in some big house, in better shape than all the houses around. it's not that far from the rv point. it's on the route i was taking."

"fucking hell. how many are there? you hurt?"

"i don't know. there was three men bringing me in, said they were going to go get someone. i haven't been hurt- yet." you heard a door open and slam shut, followed by what you guessed was four people.

"look who we have here. ain't you a pretty one, darling?" you made sure to take your hand off the transmission button after he spoke, so price wouldn't respond and get your radio taken away or even worse, cause you to be moved to a different building.

that must be the guy they retrieved, but what the fuck was he going to do with you. you stayed silent.

"not talkative, huh? been a while since i saw someone as cute as you walking around." you felt a force lift your chin up.

you knew that if you did anything too rash, they would shoot you. it's obvious they don't want you for any intel, so that means you're easily disposable.

"i've been looking for a sweet little girlie like you. wonder what you can do." he released you, and said. "why's her hands not tied?"

"didn't have enough rope, sir. you'll already have her tied up in that bed of yours anyways."

they all burst out in laughter and you frowned in disgust. that's what they were doing? you decided to try and get up, placing your hands on the floor to drag yourself upright, when something sharp pressed against your neck. ironic to be threatened in the same way that you killed one of their men.

"don't try anything." the guy you assumed was their superior crooned into your ear, making you shiver. and not in a good way.

sticking to not speaking, you nodded, and the blade's pressure disappeared from your neck.

"good girl," they praised, but you cringed inwardly. you would've smiled hearing that come from anyone else's mouth, especially a certain someone. a certain someone you wished could come save your ass already, but you haven't seen them in years.

simon really was a ghost. you let out a chuckle at your own thoughts.

"something funny?" another person questioned. you shook your head quickly.

"leave her here. and go get some more rope, you think some rope around her legs are going to stop here from leaving? fucking idiots."

you laid the side of your head down on the ground, and slowly began lifting up the blindfold around your eyes.

you heard the scrape of a chair, and then the guy, who you were going to call, "the boss", sat down with a sigh.

"who do you work for?" he asked. "nevermind, that's a stupid question. i bet you're with those fucking assholes who killed our leader."

you smirked a little. little did he know you were said asshole who killed him.

"fuck this. those bastards can't find anything even if it was up their ass." you could hear the rustle of clothes as he stood up and felt him grip your wrist.

"what the fuck are you doing?" you spat. you could take him on in a fight as long as no one walked in with a weapon.

"the only reason why you're still alive babe, is beca-" he was cut off by the sound of yelling and gunshots.

"is that your fucking friends?" you heard him growl.

you shrugged. "probably," you cheerily agreed as you grabbed onto his hand that was on your wrist and twisted it as hard as you could, causing him to yelp in pain.

he let go of you and you grabbed your knife, not needing to see where it was due to memory, and quickly cut through the ropes around your ankles, standing up before the boss tackled you, pinning you to the floor.

you didn't need to see to quickly flip him over, trained in being able to overpower even the strongest person. you brought your legs over his back and used your weight and his momentum to make you the one on top. you didn't know if he still had his knife on him, and didn't take any chances. you brought your blade down on his leg, and he howled.

taking this chance, you ripped the blindfold off and made eye contact with the person in front you, some ragged looking person who could be in his late 30s.

"disgusting." you spat as he held his leg, tears streaming down his face. you saw no weapon on him, and you weren't going to wait around for someone else to come along and attack you.

you got up, getting rope and tying his wrists together, doing what he and his men didn't do to you, and you knew he wasn't going to be walking anywhere anytime soon. you put the blindfold around his mouth and held a finger up to your lips.

"you should be more fucking quiet like a good boy." you stood up, running out the room with your gun to the commotion coming from the front of the house.

peering out from a corner to make sure you weren't going to run out into a bunch of bullets, you saw a familiar man with a mask, and four men on the floor, one in the grasp of who you never expected to see.

"nice to see you're alive, rookie." ghost said as the man he carried crumpled to the ground.

"rookie?" you raised an eyebrow, only to realize he couldn't see you do that since half of your face was covered.

"got a mask of your own?" he walked up to you, and he still had so much height over you, looking down at you as you looked up.

"personally, i think mine is much cooler. it looks better on me." you laughed.

"shadow, you there?"

"nice call sign, shadow," ghost let the name roll of his tongue and your cheeks heated up.

pressing a button, you responded.

"i'm here, price. is this your little surprise?"

"couldn't stop him from going. he was eager to retrieve you."

you shot a questioning look at simon, who wasn't looking at you anymore, but instead looking if anyone else was in the house.

"what are you even doing here?" you asked ghost.

"well, i came to help you guys find someone for your next mission, but i think you already found him," he pointed behind you, and you turned to see the piece of shit crawling over to the two of you. how he even made it this far was beyond you, using his soldiers to propel himself forward.

"this fucking bitch?" you scoffed.

"i see the two of you already met," he noted the stab wound in the man's leg and the rope around his wrists.

"you wouldn't believe what he wanted to do with me."

ghost narrowed his eyes.

"he wanted to do something with you?"

"how else do you think i'm alive right now?"

"sheer will. i heard you've gotten good at close combat." ghost went over to the man and crouched over, and the guy looked up in terror.

"what the fuck should we do with you?" he hummed.

"do we have to bring him back alive?" you asked. you would not hesitate to lift your gun and shoot him.

ghost didn't respond, instead going back over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder that made you jump in surprise. the last time you were this close was when he was taking debris out your arm on that first mission.

"do whatever you want. we don't need him."

you grinned. "yes, lieutenant."

☆☆.

you were happy to be back on the base. that was probably the biggest stroke of luck you've ever had, being captured by the stupidest enemies you've ever seen, and by so few of them being at the house with you.

price was happy to see you back, and presented the prize you already knew about.

"aren't you happy to see ghost?"

"beyond elated. i'm currently pissing my pants of joy right now." the sentence might've sounded sarcastic, but you broke out into a huge smile.

looking over at ghost, you saw his eyes had a glimmer of amusement in them.

"i'll be in the other room. come over if you need me,"

you took off your balaclava and tactical vest and weapons as soon as you got in the room, sitting down on the cot. as soon as you swung your legs up and laid down to take a short nap, a rapid series of knocks sounded at the door.

you groaned, going over to open it to reveal ghost.

"simon?"

"can i come in?" he said gruffly.

you gestured for him to make his way in, and you shut the door.

"anything you want, lieutenant?" you emphasized his rank, still remembering the first time the two of you met.

"you ever gonna show me some respect, shadow?"

you held a hand to your heart, letting out a dramatic gasp. "me? not showing you respect? let me apologize."

you could see his eyes roll.

"since you seem like you were going to take a nap, i want to do some close combat with you. need to see how good you got since you were a rookie." it sounded less of an invitation and more of a demand.

"you asking me as a superior or am i allowed to decline?" you put your hands on your hips, tilting your head.

"are you really going to say no?"

"absolutely not. anything to fucking beat your ass."

☆☆.

the two of you were lying on the floor, and you were sweating. hard.

"thought you were better with guns, simon." you exhaled.

"thought you were better at hand-to-hand combat," he retorted.

you glared at him. "i will pulverize your ass."

he didn't reply, and you took the chance to get up and make him get up also.

"one more. whoever wins gets bragging rights."

"bragging rights?" he questioned, but you already began throwing punches and attempting to get him to fall.

he blocked majority of them, but you didn't let him have a chance to get offensive, instead opting to simply go for his waist and push him to the floor, with you attached. this led to you bear hugging his waist, your face in his chest.

you accidentally took a huge inhale through your nose, and you could smell him. he smelled like gunpowder, dust, and. . . wood?

"are you fucking sniffing me, y/n?"

"well, i'm fucking breathing, aren't i?" you could feel him attempt to flip you over but you kept yourself grounded.

"fucking christ. check where your legs are at." ghost groaned, and you peered down to see your leg against. . .

"holy shit, i'm so fucking sorry," ghost took this opportunity to successfully flip you over, and now you were pinned down again. for the second time today, too.

the space between you too was so small, and you could feel his body pressing on yours. your breathing sped up at the distance.

you've been infatuated with the masked man ever since you met him, never being able to forget those moments you had with him. those times you got to work with him, which was barely, had you cherishing those memories of him.

price obviously caught on, which was why he was calling ghost a prize. a prize you were happy to get today.

ghost could tell the look on your face with your half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

he leaned even closer.

"something wrong?" you could hear the smirk.

"fuck off," you turned your face to the side.

"look at me." you immediately went back to glare at him, but you couldn't with how close you were. "i asked you a question."

"nothing's wrong, ghost."

"so if i checked your heartbeat, it would be normal?"

"you trying to touch me, lieutenant?"

"so what if i am?" you had no response to that, opening and closing your mouth, trying to find the words to represent how you were feeling.

the two of you stayed in silence, just like usual, until you broke it.

"can i kiss you?" you murmured.

"close your eyes." you did as he said, and heard the sound of his mask being pulled up, followed by the feeling of his lips pressing against yours. he didn't let go off you wrists, leaving you to have to lean forward to return the kiss.

you kissed as if you had been thinking about this for years, which you had, and he kissed as if this was something that his life depended on. something that he's needed and has been craving desperately.

you never opened your eyes, waiting for the moment he decides to show you himself on his own terms. besides, doesn't it add to the mystery?

he pulled away much quicker than you wanted him to, pouting. you heard him as he slipped his mask back on and told you to open your eyes.

"sorry gorgeous. remember, i'm too pretty to be showing you my face. might dazzle you too much."

you laughed.

"i'm always ready to be dazzled by you, simon. you've dazzled me since the moment we met."

"oh really? you like it when guys insult you?"

"makes me feel like i've done something." you accepted the hand he held out to help you up as he stood.

"definitely have done something to me," he spoke to himself.

you grinned. seems like you both can dazzle people.

☆☆.

i absolutely despise this. i apologize sm

tags !!

@urfavsunkissedleo @shyyxzi

[planet-crait]

Time for Crock to the Future! This is another one I’ve been curious to get to. Not as curious as Founders Day but still curious.

Wait Hazels dad only has nine Toes? Uhh come again Cosmo? What kind of toe incident gets you chainsaws? But ohhh nice Hazels dad is getting an award! I wonder if we’ll really get into the work exactly he does.

You know persistence is something good when you work in a field involving the supernatural. I do love that he refused to let doubt get him down and make him give up. AJ founded that when he was ten?? When in the show? Cuz they spent the entire time as ten? It’s kind of cute he looks up to AJ so much. I wonder how old he is compared to AJ?

One Hazel your outfit is absolutely adorable you rock pink I love it. Ohhh I see what the show did there. Fourth wall breaks can be done well take note poorly done shows with fourth wall breaks! But wait. How does a paranormal detector…work if they’re trying to prove they even exist? And why keep the paranormal out wouldn’t you want them to reveal themselves? Also is that a Mark reference?

Once again why does Hazels dad mention magic but also doubt the existence of fairy godparents??? How does a paranormal believer draw the line at magic? It doesn’t make sense.

Hazel? Really? You just ran in. Oh wow AJ comes in early lolz. The signs in the show continue to send me every time I notice them like this one with AJ.

Just brilliant hilarious.

They’re really going to steal a small child’s bag? Like is that really legal? And AJ is just chill with this? I have major questions. Why would they do that to an employees child like this feels so beyond sus to me. Are we supposed to distrust the institute? But Hazels dad works there? I just don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about this.

I appreciate Hazel being so concerned with making sure her dad has an amazing night but uh your dad’s boss ran off with your purse in a somewhat probably illegal manner so maybe bring that up? Especially since your godparents are on there??

VIVA LA PLUTO I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL.

Wait…am I agreeing with Crocker? Shit. Serious question though why does AJ employ Crocker if he tortured him as his friends as kids? Or does he just. Not care cuz Crocker gave him A’s? I mean it tracks I guess.

I love how he declares his full name seemingly only for the audience he doesn’t know is their and Hazel calls him out. Idk sometimes fourth wall breaks can be funny.

Crocker…I doubt anyone listens to you I’m pretty sure you built that booth yourself. Hazel. Are you really wanting to ask the man clearly obsessed with fairies for help finding said fairies? Is this really a smart life choice here?

Oh he’s a janitor. That makes more sense. Okay does AJ actually have some hair now or??? Wait Fairy atomizer 3000? But Hazels dad doesn’t think Fairy’s could possibly exist so why does THAT exist besides raising the stakes? Why…does AJ think fairies are dangerous? Legit why? I saw and AU that’s interesting wherein AJ does think they’re dangerous and I thought it was a neat concept but I didn’t realize it had roots in the show itself. I’m assuming he must because why else would you build a machine to destroy something you know nothing about? But why would he think they’re dangerous? I have so many questions I doubt will be answered.

Guys maybe stop talking in front of the humans wanting to deatomize you? I love how Cosmo mishears words though I just. I feel that in my soul as someone who also regularly mishears words and has to ask people to repeat themselves because brain short circuited idk it makes me feel seen.

Why are you bragging about handing out F’s? Like that’s not a good teacher trait. Crocker…uh…you’re obsessed that’s true. Even if you weren’t obsessed the handing out F’s thing would also likely turn people away from giving you a teaching position.

AJ…I know it’s good for Cosmo and Wanda the leather is distracting you but also PRIORITIES. Also how did Hazel get a real leather bag???? Those things are pricey? Sturdy for sure. Will last forever yeah but she’s so young!

They’re really going to leave the suspected fairies unsupervised? Uhhh okay off you go. WOW Crocker it took you this long to figure that out? You’ve gotten slow. Smart kiddo grab what you know is the fairies sacrifice the bag.

HAZEL FRIES REALLY? In such a fancy bag? Oh wow another Timmy reference. No names just their last godkid but yeah Timmy continues to kind of haunt the narrative I’m digging it. I just realized though Cosmo and Wanda didn’t have a godkid between Crocker and Timmy which is…a long time to not have a godkid when apparently fairy world is also short on godparents? I know this is just canon from the Og show but it sure is a strange choice from the original writers.

Cosmo maybe uh. Don’t reveal your weakness out loud. Or joke about a giant net yep okay there it is. Yep. How does Crocker have a giant net? Why does no one question its existence?

Oh Hazels dad is giving his speech over Crocker getting the equipment. Oh and he’s looking at Cosmo and Wanda. He knows. Without a doubt Hazel has fairies. Will this be an issue? Probably not. It should because previously someone finding out about a kids fairies got the fairies taken away and memories erased.

Cosmo. Read the room. Oh Timmy again. Oh only his last name getting dropped. I wonder how long they’ll avoid saying his first name. I am curious if Hazel will ever met him in later seasons. Hazel how did you forget about that they just told you their magic is useless.

Wait Crocker isn’t a Ghost why would it capture him??? I don’t understand how that will work?

Hazel uh that’s not a great line lolz.

How did the aliens sneak in and not get caught??????? Uh how? If the scanner can scan fairies they’ve never seen why would it miss aliens we know exist? And does no one notice their skin is green?

Lolz uh AJ why keep Crocker if he keeps interrupting the ceremony? Also Crocker literally assaulted AJ like That should also be a problem. Like good on him for having a backup but still. Cute Hazel is so proud of her dad.

Overall this was a fine episode. I wonder if Crocker will reappear and go after Hazel? I also have some questions on the production end. I know their was previous ideas to have Timmy be the one to have founded the institute but that was scrapped and I’m curious as to why and what this means for Timmy’s potential future within the show. Was this a network forced change or did the writers decide they didn’t want to reveal Timmy too soon.

I’m personally torn on this. On the one hand the original show never got a proper ending which sucks for fans of the original but this show deserves to be its own thing and not be just about Timmy again (heavens know that’s one of the few things I really dislike about Rebels is it repeatedly being used to further TCW characters and arcs at the sheer detriment of the characters if the new show) but also having Timmy’s fate so up in the air especially when it’s clear he was special to Cosmo and Wanda and more so then Hazel is so far and probably honestly ever will be. Like very very early on Cosmo and Wanda were telling Timmy they loved him and Hazel hasn’t gotten that. It raises questions about if something happened that has them putting up walls to not get hurt again or if it’s just Timmy was beyond special to them and they don’t normally get so close to their godkids.

I have a feeling that part won’t ever be explored in the show but it would be cool and I would love to see some resolution for Timmy in something not even necessarily in this show just…something. Though admittedly I have a feeling he will eventually show up based on original ideas for this episode and the way he haunts the narrative. That is if we get a season 2 which so far I really hope we do get a season 2. Onto the next one!