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idyllic-ghost · 14 days

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title: What A Man (What A Mighty Good Man) pairing: idol!S.Coups x gn!reader genre: fluff, comedic, suggestive warnings: BSS drunk karaoke, second-hand embarrassment, pet names (pretty, babe, baby, etc.), alcohol mentions, mentions of explicit material, implied that reader is smaller than cheol (cheol can carry reader over his shoulder), reader has a bit of a lumberjack fantasy about cheol synopsis: Everyone knows you're down bad for Seungcheol, it's just extra obvious when you're drunk. wordcount: 2k taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @pearlygraysky, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang

rating: 18+

a/n: idk why i wrote this, i was just listening to the song and then i got the idea- procrastinating on work is my biggest source of motivation for writing

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masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Seungcheol knew that tonight would end in chaos as soon as he saw the karaoke machine. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put in a karaoke machine in the living room area of the vacation home, was immensely wrong. He knew that at least a couple people in the group were going to start using it after a few drinks tonight, and luckily managed to get one of the bedrooms in the smaller cabins nearby instead of one in the main building. However, he didn't expect that one of the people who would hop on the karaoke machine would be you.

It was already getting late when Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin had "discovered" the karaoke machine. One of the members, or maybe even one of their partners, had attempted to hide it under a blanket - to no avail, seeing as the three of them were able to sniff it out.

It all started with a solo from Seungkwan, which Soonyoung joined in on. Soon enough, the entirety of BSS was singing together once Seokmin had joined them. Once the song finished, everyone expected them to start singing again soon enough - but they didn't expect to hear your voice echo from the speakers.

Seungcheol sat in the corner of the room, talking to Joshua about how nice it was going to be to spend some quiet time alone with you, when he heard "Whatta Man" by Salt-N-Pepa and En Vogue start playing over the systems. At first, he thought nothing of it - maybe he was a little surprised that Soonyoung knew all of the words to the first verse, but there was nothing in particular that got his attention from his conversation. That was, until you started on the second verse.

"My man is smooth like Barry and his voice got bass. A body like Arnold with a Denzel face-"

Your voice was giggly, but you surprisingly managed to sing all of the words quite clearly . Joshua snorted as he looked up to the mini-stage that Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan had made out of a few tables. Seungcheol didn't dare look up at first, but it was impossible to ignore your loud voice over the speakers. As soon as he lifted his gaze to meet yours, your face lit up. From your face, Seungcheol could tell that you were drunk - he could tell that you were very drunk from the way you danced as if no one was watching... despite everyone definitely watching.

"Yeah, the ritual, highway to Heaven. From 7 to 7, he's got me open like 7-11," you shouted into the microphone while pointing to him.

Soonyoung was on the floor, dying from laughter, Seokmin was staring at the lyrics on the screen, and Seungkwan was singing back-up vocals while you kept going. Eventually, Seungcheol excused himself from his conversation with Joshua to walk to the front of the room. While he only thought this was cute, he knew that you would be embarrassed as all hell in the morning. It was time to put this to a stop. Seungkwan had since taken over, while you were holding your arms over your head and moving your hips in circles - completely unaware of the eyes on you, despite the many whoop's and wolf whistles. When you saw him approach, you stopped what you were doing and bounced over to him.

"Seungcheollie~," you slurred directly into the microphone. "You're a mighty-mighty good man!"

"Uh-huh." Seungcheol looked up at you, holding his hands out to catch you in case you fell off the table you were standing on. "I think you're ready for bed, pretty."

"Noooo," you whined as your boyfriend managed to take the microphone from you. "The song isn't done yet..."

Seungkwan and Soonyoung were still singing, while Seokmin was still looking at the lyrics and shouting out words at random, and not paying attention to you anymore. With a sigh, Seungcheol put the mic down on the ground - though he couldn't hide his big smile as he looked back up to see that you had started dancing again. He managed to take ahold of you, grabbing your legs and putting your body over his shoulder.

"Cheollie, nooo..."

Seungcheol excused himself to the room of people, and didn't wait for their response before going away to the bedroom the two of you had picked out. To get you more comfortable before he carried out in the chilly night, he maneuvered you to sit with your legs wrapped around his waist. Your face naturally found its way to the crook of his neck, and he heard you let out a delighted sigh as he hugged you a little tighter. He managed to put on his slippers without looking - or at least he thought it was his slippers - and decided to leave your shoes there to be picked up in the morning.

"Comfy?" he asked.

You hummed in response, and Seungcheol opened the door to step outside. The walk to the cabin wasn't far but it was getting pretty cold outside, and you shivered in his arms.

"We'll get you in bed soon, baby," he cooed at you.

"Seungcheol," you said in a very serious tone - you definitely hadn't heard what he had just said.

"Yeah?"

"Why aren't you a lumberjack man?" You lifted your upper body up to look at him.

"Why am I not a what now?" Seungcheol laughed, doing his best to give you his attention while still keeping you off the ground. "A lumberjack man?"

"You're so strong- you can definitely carry wood for a living." You gripped onto his biceps. "And you'd have, like, a husky or something... not that Kkuma isn't cute, she should come with us too... and we'd live in the woods- I think it'd be very hot of you."

"Are you fantasizing about me as a lumberjack man?" He opened the door to the cabin and stepped inside. "I thought I already was a mighty good man."

"Oh, you are." As he set you down on the bed, you refused to let him go - your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close to you. "I just wanna watch you chop wood."

Despite you smelling of alcohol, Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your lips. His heart melted as he saw your big smile when he pulled away. As if his kiss was the password for you to unlock your arms, you let him go. Your eyes stayed on Seungcheol as he walked around the room, preparing for the night. He went into the bathroom to grab the painkillers you had brought and when he came back out, you were still looking at him. Your legs were crossed, leaning back on your arms, and your head was cocked to the side. As if he wasn't looking right at you, you looked him up and down - very obviously undressing him with your eyes.

"Babe," he said, interrupting your staring. "Get your pajamas."

"You're not going to undress me?" You pouted.

You were that kind of drunk. Seungcheol sighed and walked over to your bag, taking out your pajama pants and a t-shirt. While he was usually always intrigued whenever you tried to initiate something, tonight was not the case. You were almost too drunk to stand up straight, so no amount of complimenting his strong arms or fluttering your eyes at him was going to make Seungcheol give in. Still, he agreed to help undress you - and did so quickly, while you giggled as you tried to interrupt him.

Your hands never left his skin as he guided you around the room to get you ready for bed. After successfully getting you to brush your teeth, it was time for your skincare. He sat you down on the counter in the bathroom to help you, all the while you were feeling up his arms and shoulders. It was a little distracting, but Seungcheol put all of his energy to get your face clean. His hands were gentle as they traced the features of your face, and you closed your eyes in pure bliss.

"Maybe you shouldn't be a lumberjack man," you muttered.

"No? Why not?"

"Your hands are so gentle," you whispered, as if it was a secret.

You let go of his arms to start touching his hands instead. Seungcheol tried his best to keep your hands away from his own, but you were relentless. With your hands on top of his, you pressed them against your cheeks. They almost covered your entire face, but you didn't seem to mind.

"Soft hands," you muttered. "Wow, you're warm."

"Baby, just let me do the last step..." He sighed and removed his hands from you to pick up your face lotion. "You're a menace when you're drunk."

"Can you cuddle me when we go to bed?" you asked sweetly, ignoring what he had just said again. "I want to steal your warmth."

"Sure, babe." He looked up at you with a soft smile. "Now, close your eyes again."

Once you were tucked under the covers, he got you a glass of water. When you saw him, standing in front of you with a glass of water and looking tired, your eyes started tearing up. Seungcheol was quick to crouch down, putting the water on the bedside table, and reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he cooed.

"You really are a good man," you mumbled with a pout. "Like- not just in the hot way."

Seungcheol hung his head down to hide his laugh from you. If you had seen him laughing at you, he knew that you'd take it as a personal attack. He looked back at you, trying to keep a straight face.

"You deserve the best, alright?" He let you go and picked up the glass of water again. "Now, drink up. I'll get you another glass for you to drink in the morning."

You nodded, tears still in your eyes over his sweet act, and started drinking. After putting painkillers and another glass of water on the bedside table by your side of the bed, Seungcheol got ready for bed. When he crawled into bed, minutes later, you were already half asleep. He kept his promise, and cuddled up next to you. You snuggled your head against his chest, and put your cold feet against his legs. Seungcheol froze up, but was careful not to make a sound as you were about to fall asleep. He knew that you were going to hate yourself in the morning, that you were going to ask him a million questions about what you had done, but now you looked so peaceful and he hoped that you could stay like that for as long as possible.

✦ . B O N U S . ✦

Breakfast was set out in the living room of the main house, made by the few that weren't experiencing a hungover that morning. You walked in behind Seungcheol, wearing one of his hoodies with the hood pulled up and sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose to protect you from the strong sunlight. As soon as a few people saw the two of you, they started singing:

"Whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man!"

You groaned and reluctantly sat down by the table, apologizing to everyone that was there about your drunken behavior the night before. People started joking around about it and while you were embarrassed, you couldn't help but to laugh at their jokes.

"Seriously, Seungcheol, you should be proud." Chan said from beside you. "No sane person would ever get up on a table and sing that song like that to a person, if they weren't down bad for them."

You slapped Chan's arm lightly, but you knew it was true. Choi Seungcheol was a mighty good man, and you were 100% down bad for him.

#svt #svthub #kvanity #seventeen #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop writer #svt fluff #fanfic #seungcheol smut #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

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cold nights // part three

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is where it starts to get different (i hope!)

series masterlist // playlist

You saw two deaths in one day, and the games had not even started.

The local girl, who you didn't have the pleasure of learning the name of, had taken her final breaths in the arms of your mentor before he was dragged away. You hoped he was doing okay. And the girl from District Ten, Brandy. She had guts, you had to admire that about her- but killing an innocent was something you struggled to understand.

Coriolanus's classmate was only guilty of a cruel joke, and to you, that didn't warrant violence. However, the misdirected anger from your fellow tributes was valid. You just got lucky with Coryo as your mentor.

You spent your night reaching through the bars to pick weeds and flowers to place with Brandy while she slept. "For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause: there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life," repeating in your mind.

"It's my fault... It was my idea to get closer to the tributes but I didn't know this would happen." Coryo says, sat at the dining room table with his cousin and Grandma'am. He was sent home as soon as he was dragged out of the zoo, and he's not sure he had a coherent walk the entire walk home.

"You're just lucky your poet didn't do the same to you. Stay away. District people are a different breed, Coriolanus."

Tigris chews on her lip next to him, her cousin's arm wrapped around her back. "She's not a rebel, grandma'am. She's just a girl."

"No, I can see it in her eyes and the way she carries herself. That one hasn't been a girl in a long time." She shakes her head disapprovingly.

"You haven't met her, she won't hurt me." Coryo insists. "She's far too... gentle, unfortunately. At least Arachne's tribute would have done well in the games."

"It doesn't matter, Coryo." Tigris states. "If that's not who she is we can't force her. What do you think a change like that would do to someone?"

"I just want her to win."

"Dean Highbottom said that she doesn't have to win for you to get the prize."

"I know that." He mutters, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead with his free hand. "It's not about..." He stands up, pushing his hair back out of his face. "I have homework to do. Goodnight." And just like that, he's gone.

Come the morning, you were awoken from your slumber next to her no longer bleeding body by peacekeepers barging in with guns- one pointed at every last one of you. You backed away as they grabbed her, careless of her arms which you had delicately crossed, or the flowers you placed in her hair.

You were shackled alongside each other, and then forced back into the truck that delivered you to the zoo so recently.

"Don't be scared..." You whisper to the young girl on the bench next to you, watching as she cried, her pleas for answers going ignored by the others. "The world will be a better place tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Wovey sniffles, looking up at you as you reach up with tethered hands to brush her dark hair back from her face.

"Tomorrow." You nod, smiling at her sadly. You didn't know where you were going, but you doubted it meant anything good. You were supposed to have some more time before the games, but it's not impossible they would be moved in the fallout of the murders. Tomorrow, given your deaths today, would be a safer place for you both.

It wasn't a long ride before the doors were opened and you were all pulled out, and tied to a vehicle while Brandy's body was being hung above you. A parade? This was new, you were sure, you had never heard of such a thing before in the games as they were, although, no one from Twelve had ever returned to tell the story.

You were forced to walk alongside the vehicle as it moved, down an empty street and onto a much more populated one. You wondered if Coriolanus was there, until you reached your destination, and you heard his voice.

You didn't take Coriolanus Snow for a singer, but people shock you every day. There's a screen set up, and you can see him there. He looks uncomfortable, you can see in his eyes that he doesn't want to be there, but by now you've gathered that this is a funeral for his classmate; he likely wasn't given a choice.

You couldn't look at anything else happening around you. If you look at the casket in front of you, or god forbid the body hung above your head, you would burst into tears. This is what the Capitol deemed as justice for the loss of one of their young people- how did they think District people felt every year when their children were torn from them to face an eerily similar fate? The lack of empathy could make you ill. So your eyes remained locked on the blonde boy on the screen until the very end.

Coriolanus couldn't look at you. He knew you were there, all the tributes were. He took one look at you shivering under the metal that encased your wrists on bare skin, and he couldn't look back. You didn't do this to Arachne, you couldn't. Unfortunately, he's certain you wouldn't hurt a fly. To him, it felt unjust to drag you into this.

As soon as he was done and returned to his seat as chief mourner for a girl he didn't even like, he couldn't help but let his gaze track you again. You had tears in your eyes. He could see it even from a distance. You were scared, or you were saddened even by the funeral of a stranger. Your emotions were a mystery to him. You clutched your hands to your chest as you followed the car you were tied to, eyes glued to the ground at your feet as people simultaneously booed at you and cheered at the tribute hanging over your head- and he thought he was humiliated by having to sing. To be a spectacle in the Capitol was to be hated, and it was his job to make sure those same people would know you.

As soon as he was free from his duties at Arachne's funeral, he was headed back to the zoo. It took him all day, and the sun was set by the time he made it. "Y/N." He whispered, unable to see you in the dark as he approached the bars of the monkey cage. "Y/N?"

You had awoken to the footsteps, hearing your name being called in hushed tones as you sat up from where you were lying on the cold ground. You had just managed to fall asleep, Jessup had given you his sweater to use as some form of blanket as you laid your head on his stomach. You missed your bed, but body heat was helpful. You didn't think summer nights were truly this cold.

You got up, following your friend's voice over to the bars that separated you. "Coriolanus." You whisper, trying to smile. "It's late."

"Are you okay?" He asks, grabbing one of the bars in his hand and ignoring the cold burning into his palm.

"I'm just fine." You assure him. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"She wasn't my friend." He whispers back.

"Still. It was hard to watch, anyone with a heart would be hurt by what happened."

He remembers seeing you cry at the funeral, taking a sharp breath in. "Are you cold?" He asks, changing the subject.

"Only slightly." You answer. "Jessup gave me his sweater, and body heat helps."

Coriolanus squints as he looks past you, seeing the form of the boy lying on the ground, rolling onto his side now that you weren't using him as a pillow. "I brought you this." He whispers, holding up an old, torn-up afghan that he slung over the top of his book bag.

"I figured in that... dress thing you must be freezing out here. I couldn't sleep knowing you'd be out here shivering." He explains as you take it, unfolding the knitted material.

"Thank you, that's very considerate." You smile, quick to drape the small blanket over your shoulders. "Did someone make this for you? It's beautiful."

Coriolanus watches you pull it tightly around yourself, already trying to pull any warmth you can from the material. "I... I'm not sure." He says quietly. "It was a gift for my mother, it was meant for my sister."

"Well, tell your sister I say thank you. I'll get it back to you before the games."

"Oh... well, she doesn't need it." He chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck to quell the goosebumps forming there. "My mother died in childbirth. Neither of them made it. So now, we've just got this blanket..."

You frown, instinctively loosening your grip on the suddenly delicate material. "I'm so sorry, Coryo. That's awful."

Coryo? The nickname falling from your lips sounds like the spoon that stirs sugar into tea- abrasive for the breakfast table, but still very sweet.

When he doesn't respond, you continue. "The distance that the dead have gone does not at first appear- their coming back seems possible for many an ardent year."

"Why do you talk like that?" He asks suddenly, eager to discuss anything other than the death of his mother.

You smile. "It's from a poem. An ancient one." You explain. "I like to read, it's all I've ever really done. My ma taught me how, gave me all these old, old books with reprints of popular stories from way back when. They just... speak to me. People back then seem to have known it all."

"I've never read anything like that." He replies.

"That surprises me." You answer honestly. "Did you know you're named after a play?" You ask, sitting down now, careful not to let the blanket touch the dirty ground.

"Am I?" He asks, sitting down across from you without thinking much of it.

"Yes." You nod. "I quoted it in my goodbye to the District. I thought that was why you came to see me."

"I had no idea." Coryo says, smile tugging at his lips. "What a coincidence."

"Pray you, who does the wolf love?" You giggle, leaning closer so he can hear you better. "The lamb."

"From?" He asks, unable to resist the urge to smile any longer.

"The Tragedy of Coriolanus."

"Why is it a tragedy?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"Well, it's about this man named Coriolanus, who gets thrust into a position of power he isn't quite suited for. It's all he can think about, he's obsessed with it. He does well, he rescues the city, but his power and pride become his downfall, and he's banished by his own people." You explain.

"Oh. He doesn't regain their favour?"

"He dies at the end, 'cause he's betrayed too many. It's sort of sad."

"Sort of?" Coryo chuckles quietly. "He did so much for his people, is his death not a great loss?"

"His death is meant to be a justice for his actions, but I disagree." You whisper. "I think he was too far gone to be changed, yes, but I think if things had gone differently for him he would have made some better choices."

"Maybe." Coryo agrees. "But with a tragedy, doesn't that mean it was always meant to end that way?"

"People say that." You reply. "But I think the aspect of human nature has been lost in it. I think people can always change. Usually, it's circumstance that changes people into villains, so I think it could change them into heroes too. How do you know so much about tragedies if you've never heard of Shakespeare?"

"There's others, more modern stuff that they teach us here. No one likes to talk about history before Panem." Coryo answers. "But I agree. I think the idea of destiny is embellished, in some ways."

You hum in agreement, looking up at the sky. "There's not as many stars here."

"No?" He asks, taking a break from looking at you to look up as well. He's never known anything different than the very few stars they get, even on a clear night.

"No." You shake your head. "Back home, if you look up at night you couldn't count the stars if you were given a month to do it and a pencil to track it all down. There are thousands."

"Sounds nice." He whispers.

"It is." You agree, voice catching. You'll never go home and see the stars again, this is the best you would get for the rest of your life. You didn't realize the last time you saw the stars light up the sky that you never would again. You wish you had appreciated it more. You let out a shaky breath, deciding to look instead at your lap. There was no use in hurting your feelings anymore.

At the sound of your unsteady exhale, Coryo snaps his eyes back to you. He realizes at just about the same time you did what you were thinking about. "I'm sorry." He says after a few moments of silence, unsure what else he could say.

You just nod, reaching up to wipe your eyes. "I'll just miss it. I didn't realize until now that I won't get to see it again."

"You might." He tries to be encouraging, but the odds of you surviving are slim and he knows that. "I'll do everything I can to help you. I want you to get home."

"You would love it." You say, ignoring his sentiment because you know if you acknowledge it you'll start bawling. "There's a big open field by my house, when I was younger my ma would take us out there with a blanket in the middle of the night and we would lay down and look at the stars."

Coryo is quiet, just nodding as he listens to your story. "Sometimes my cousin and I sit on the roof of our apartment at night. We'll just sit out there and talk for hours, it's the best part of my day when we both get the chance." He tries to relate to you, he really does, but he knows that he could leave whenever he wanted and go sit with Tigris on the roof tonight. You don't have that privilege.

"You live together?" You ask, sniffling.

"Yeah. It's just us and our Grandma'am."

"That sounds nice." You smile sadly. "What's her name?"

"My cousin? Tigris."

"Tigris." You roll the name around in your mouth. "Will you tell me about her?"

"Well, she graduated a couple of years ago. She wants to be a designer, but there's not much of a market for that these days, so she works under someone else. Her boss is just awful to her, but Tigris gives it all she's got. She's got a real talent for it."

You lean forward against the bars as he speaks, resting your forehead on the cold metal and letting your eyes close. "I'm sure she's amazing."

"She is. She took this old shirt of my father's, completely remade it for me to wear to the reaping like nothing had ever been wrong with it in the first place. She even used the tiles in our bathroom to make these tiny buttons for it. It's really impressive. I think one day when I'm president, I'll get her a better job. If she even wants to work. She's been working for as long as I can remember to take care of me, I hope to return the favour one day."

"That's very kind of you." You yawn. "She sounds lovely. I wish I could have the pleasure of meeting her one day."

"If she's free, I'll bring her to say hello." He smiles, noticing you're already half asleep. The urge to reach forward, just a little, and push your hair away from where it has fallen in your face is near impossible to resist. Instead, he keeps talking. "She would love to meet you too, I know it. You are pretty much all we talk about these days."

"Me? Why's that?"

"You're just... unlike anyone I've ever met. Better, I suppose." He whispers. "And you're really important to me. I hope you understand that."

"I don't have to win for you to get your prize, right?" You ask quietly.

"No." He replies. "But I really hope you do. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I'd like to see you when you're not a monkey in a cage. As yourself."

You smile, cheeks flushing under the mask of the darkness that surrounds you. "Come, gentle night, come, loving black-browed night, give me my Romeo, and when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars." You whisper, so quietly to yourself he's not even sure he heard every last word, but god, did he long to. Only so many quotes and poems and words of your own would have the gift of leaving your lips. Your words were numbered- and as he could, he would cherish every one.

"What's that from?" He asks, leaning closer.

"Romeo and Juliet." You yawn. "That's my favourite. One day, you should read it."

"I will." He promises. And he'll think the whole time of you.

taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0

if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!

#tbosas #hunger games #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg #the hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #snow x reader #snow lands on top

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cordeliawhohung · 8 months

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Until You

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part 4 of "soft spot"

Simon is the only place that feels like home anymore, and you can't get enough of him.

warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving) porn with plot (a lot of plot), porn with feelings, service top ghost

wc: 6.6k

New York City. No one ever talked about the smell.

Warm, wet trash sizzling in the dying heat of the summer, mixed with the suffocating pollution from the countless cars clogging the roads. It was worse than London, in a way. Or maybe Simon just thought it was worse because it wasn’t home. At least the rat infestation was a bit familiar, though not all too comforting.

Most of all, it was the amount of people that really got to him. London and New York City were roughly the same size population wise, but it was as if the city was more dense than London was. With towering buildings stretching far into the sky, blocking out any sort of natural beauty, it was almost as if they forgot they could build their city out sideways. It was even more odd pushing through them, weaving his way between bodies and stands in the crowded streets. The city was awfully lively for a place that had almost been blown to bits that morning.

It had been a long week. A long few weeks. The last thing he wanted to do was meet up with Laswell and the others for some sort of debriefing party. In a bar, no less. Though, at that time of day it was likely to be less crowded than the street he tried to slither through, and he attempted to hold onto that thought as his only source of comfort.

“Hey, check this out, L.T.”

Then, of course, there was Soap. Over their time working together, he had grown closer to him than he had any of his other teammates. He was a nice enough kid, and one hell of a fighter, but walking down the streets of that fucking city with him was going to be the death of him.

Still, he paused as the Scotsman bounded up to one of the various stands that lined the streets. Some sort of parade had taken place that morning, which meant all the vendors were out and about trying to sell anything from food to handmade goods. The one Soap approached seemed to be selling jewelry ranging from necklaces, rings, and even earrings. Each one of them had that handmade charm with its leather, twine, and gemstones. He wondered how many of them were real stones.

“Fancy yourself some jewelry, Johnny?” Simon asked, deciding to play along with Soap’s antics for a bit.

“Oh, you know me,” Soap said, thumbs resting in his pockets while his eyes scanned the items in front of him.

“Chest candy not enough for you, then?”

The lady who ran the stand must have been the oldest person alive. Her body was covered in age spots and her hair was so wiry and frail he could see clear through it to her scalp. When she smiled, her teeth looked unnaturally white and fake, as the real ones were most certainly replaced with dentures, and there were the obvious hints of hearing aids lining the sides of her ears. Simon wouldn’t be surprised if she had no idea what was going on around her.

“Not looking for myself,” Soap said simply as he continued to browse.

Simon stood there for a good few seconds as he allowed his sergeant to have his fun, but his patience was wearing thin. Being out in that crowd had already fried his nerves some, and not everyone was caring enough to hide their odd gazes at his attire. He wasn’t all too excited about getting an earful if they showed up late, either.

“Here we go, what about this one?” Soap asked as he pointed at one of the items.

Following his finger, Simon caught sight of a ring. It was a dainty little thing, with a band so thin it seemed like the material would snap straight in half under the pressure of his gaze if he kept squinting at it. On top of the silvery band was some sort of red gemstone. He guessed ruby, but was doubtful about the authenticity of it. He was a soldier, not a gemologist.

“What about it?” Simon questioned.

Soap shook his head and hummed a little. “Right. Probably a bit too soon for a ring, huh?”

Before Simon even had time to question what the hell he was talking about, Soap grinned. It was a devious little grin, and something the man wore often. His hand reached out and grabbed a necklace from off of one of the stands. It was better put together than the ring was, and in his opinion, more eye-catching. Emerald green beads lined the entirety of the necklace, and they were the good quality kind too. The ones that probably were plastic but didn’t look like it. And the way it reflected the sun was rather dazzling too, even he had to admit.

“MacTavish,” Simon grumbled.

“What?” Soap asked, though he sounded a bit guilty. “You’re all the way here in the Big Apple. You’ve gotta get a souvenir for Spook. Besides, green looks good on everyone.”

There it was again, that nickname Soap had coined for you. Despite the fact that he had never once mentioned your existence to anyone on the task force, Soap had managed to see right through him. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide you for mischievous reasons, but he preferred to keep his life at work and his life at home separate. Though, it became a difficult task with that damn Scot meddling in it.

He would have rolled his eyes at the man if he wasn’t too busy attempting to glare at him. Instead, he shook his head before turning and continuing down the street.

“If you show up late, I’m turning you over to Laswell,” Simon warned.

Unphased, Soap turned his attention back down to the sea of jewelry in front of him, along with the ancient lady who hadn’t stopped smiling throughout their conversation. He held the necklace out with one hand while the other dug into his pocket.

“How much for this?”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Simon never unpacked his bag on the nights he arrived home. He was often too tired from the mix of physical exertion and jet lag. So he always saved it for the next day when his mind was a bit more clear and his body somewhat rejuvenated from what little sleep he managed to get that night. He always started with his clothes first. Rinsing out any stains with cold water before tossing them into the hamper to be washed some other time. Then there were the toiletries, where they’d be brought back to their rightful places on the bathroom counter.

Other than that, there wasn’t much else for him to sort through. Except for the new item he found in his hand. A small, dainty, green beaded necklace. It was the very same one Soap had showed him while he was still in The States, and it had been stowed away in the same pocket he kept his toothbrush in. Unless the thing grew a pair of legs and climbed in there itself, Simon had a pretty good idea who put it there.

“Cheeky bastard.”

Before he could grumble to himself too much about it, a sharp knock sounded on his door. He shoved the necklace into the pocket of his jeans and quickly threw his empty duffel bag underneath his bed before approaching the door. There was no need for him to check through the peephole before he opened it, as he was already expecting someone.

You stood outside of Simon’s apartment with a bag of groceries in hand, and bundled in a light jacket to fight off the cool autumn air. A grin formed on your lips the moment the door swung open to reveal Simon. It took everything in you not to throw yourself into his burly arms, but god, the very sight of him made you want to melt into his chest. To soak up every inch of him and bathe in the one true person who ever felt like home to you. He had only been gone a few weeks this time, but it still felt like an eternity since you had last seen him.

“Hey, love,” he greeted you as you slid into the apartment. “What’s all this?”

“Dinner!” you exclaimed as you scurried over to the kitchen. “Or, at least what will be dinner. I heard the ORP’s you get in the military are pretty shit, so I figured a fresh meal would do you some good. I got chicken, and a salad kit. I hope you like Ceasar salad, because it’s the only kind they had, and…”

You were rambling, as usual. Once you were aware of your chattiness, you paused and turned back around to face Simon. A ghost of a smile hinted at his lips as he watched you, fingers fiddling with something in his pocket. Another grin broke out across your face as you began to sway side to side. You felt like a school girl looking at her crush.

“And I missed you,” you said softly, finishing up your ramble.

That hint of a smile turned into an obvious one. It was still small, as were most of Simon’s expressions, but you reveled in it as he slowly closed the gap that spanned between the two of you. His arms slowly wrapped around your waist and that was all the coaxing that you needed to fall into him.

He smelt fresh and clean, like he had gotten out of the shower not too long ago. There was a hearty warmth about him that melted away whatever coldness that lingered on your skin. His head lowered so that his lips could press against the top of your head, which only caused that warmth to spread.

“Missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, giving you a tight squeeze. His words were soft and laced with fatigue, which wasn’t surprising. He always got like that after returning from somewhere overseas. Apparently saving the world was a pretty taxing job. But it only made you appreciate it even more that he was willing to let you come over to his apartment and bug him.

As much as you wanted to stay like that forever, there was raw chicken in the grocery bag, and you were starving. So you raised your head off of his chest and propped yourself on the tips of your toes to plant a quick, chaste kiss to his lips before slipping out of his grasp. His fingers lingered on the curve of your waist for a short moment as he watched you turn back to the counter to sort through the items you bought. Simon never really liked to talk about how his missions went, and you were sure a large part of that was because it was probably classified to some extent. Instead, he aimed the conversation to be mostly about you. So, while you cooked, you talked about anything you could think of. Work and how the computer systems went down on a Monday morning, or a walk in the park you had taken on a Saturday where you saw a bird stealing a sandwich from a toddler.

Though Simon had attempted to help several times throughout the cooking process, you refused, and ordered him to relax while you did the work. Eventually the entirety of Simon’s studio apartment was smothered in the alluring aroma of your freshly cooked chicken. After setting up the plates, the two of you made yourselves comfortable on Simon’s couch. Or, at least as comfortable as you could get. You didn’t know how he managed it, but he somehow found a couch that was even more lumpy and rock hard than yours.

“How do you like it?” you questioned with your mouth half full of food.

Simon took a moment to finish swallowing his bite of food before answering. “Good. Very good. Salad’s alright, though. Nothing special.”

You tilted your head to the side, curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, eyes glancing up at you. “Any salad can be a Ceasar salad if you just stab it enough.”

A laugh left your throat, but not the kind that was sincere. It was mostly in pity, and a little bit in pain. “Wow, Simon. Grabbing the low hanging fruit, are we? Can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that one before.”

Another soft smile appeared on his lips before he continued eating. He was hardly one to truly smile all that often. In fact, you couldn’t ever really recall a time when you saw him grin, a big toothy grin. At that point, you think that expression on him would probably worry you.

“You said you went to America, right? New York?” you prodded, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork.

“Yeah. City,” he confirmed.

You could hardly contain the grin on your face as your eyes flickered back and forth between the plate in your lap and Simon’s face. “You know, I read somewhere that someone in New York gets stabbed every fifty-two seconds.”

“Yeah?” Simon asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” you repeated, unable to contain your shit-eating grin any longer. “Poor guy.”

Simon nodded his head slightly as his lips pressed tightly together as if acknowledging the humor in your joke, but he didn’t laugh. “Good one. Have to tell the boys that one.”

You giggled, this time a real, true one. “Make sure to credit me. You’ll have them all repeating the joke that Lieutenant Riley’s super cool girlfriend shared.”

The muscles in Simon’s arms tensed slightly at your words, and he paused eating for a short moment before shaking his head slightly and continuing. This didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you were quick to question him on it.

“What? Plan on stealing the glory for yourself?” you teased.

Once more, Simon shook his head. “That Lieutenant Riley bullshit.”

“Is it weird coming from me?” you questioned.

He paused for a moment while he used his thumb to swipe at a bit of dressing that had lingered on the corner of his mouth. “Coming from anyone.”

Now that really caught your attention. The way you saw it, this was your opportunity to press a bit more about his work. At least the non-classified parts of it, anyway.

“Really? Everyone just call you Simon, then? Seems a bit informal,” you mused. But as soon as those words left your mouth, an idea struck you. “Or do you have a call sign or something?”

You could tell by the way he paused that you were right. He wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was obvious that a part of him was wishing you hadn’t caught onto it. It was talk about work, one of the hardest things to get him to open up about. But this was innocent enough, or at least you hoped it was.

“Ghost,” he said stiffly.

“Ghost?” you repeated. “I guess that’s fitting for you. You’re pretty quiet. Does anyone else go by something like that?”

Finishing up the rest of his food, Simon set his plate so that it was balancing on the armrest of the couch. He sat forward a bit so that he was able to reach into his pocket.

“Some do. One of them actually… helped me get this for you.”

Simon wasn’t exactly one for gifts, both receiving and giving. His language rested heavily in acts of service. Putting together a new lamp. Buying groceries when there was none in the fridge or pantry. Making you breakfast. So when he pulled out a beautiful green beaded necklace, you were instantly taken aback. It looked so dainty in the palm of his hands, displayed perfectly and waiting for you to take it.

“Simon,” you exclaimed with a small gasp. Mirroring what he did with his plate, you set it down to rest on the arm of the couch before scooting closer to him. You carefully took the necklace from his hands to admire it further. “It’s beautiful.”

His eyes watched you attentively while your fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the beads. Everything about you was perfect to him. How gentle you were with everything you did. How you were the exact opposite of him. Where he was quiet and stiff, you filled every void in him with the song of your voice. You haunted his mind, all his thoughts, the empty cavern of his chest. He had felt cold for so long, and when you came along it burnt. But he would gladly burn for the rest of eternity if that meant he could see you like you were in that moment, so happy and full of an innocent glee.

Happy because of him.

You broke his train of thought when you held the necklace back towards him. At first he was confused, but when you moved even closer to him, he knew what was coming next.

“Help me put it on?” you asked.

Of course he would. There would never be a time where he would ever say no to a question like that. So he took the necklace from your hands as you turned to sit away from him while lifting your hair up. His hands brushed against your collarbones as he reached around to get the necklace in front of you. It took him a moment to get the clasp to properly hook together, and you shivered slightly at the lukewarm temperature of the jewelry. He straightened it out on your neck and you turned to face him once more, a smile on your face as you looked down at yourself.

“How’s it look?” Your eyes found his again after asking the question, and your heart nearly stopped. There was a deep sort of feeling to his gaze, one that you couldn’t quite place, but one that made you feel unbearably warm.

“Gorgeous,” he responded, his voice deep and hardly above a whisper.

Something started to expand in your chest. It was difficult to tell if it was because of how he looked at you, those dark eyes glancing over your features, gaze lingering on your lips, or because of his compliment. But it kept growing, and things started to feel too hot, like someone had lit your heart on fire.

He was so close. So close that you could reach out and touch him after weeks of not even being able to hear his voice. You felt like some 17th century man with your eyes glancing over every bit of him like you had never seen such beauty in your life. That hot, expanding feeling in your chest only persisted, and it was getting difficult to breathe.

Simon felt like your source of life. Like you were dying without him. So when your hand reached out and brushed against the side of his face it felt like you were able to breathe again. But it only made that burn in your chest, that need, grow stronger.

He was the one to close the gap between you, lips finding yours so easily it was like he was taking the road back home. You twisted your body so that you were facing him as best as you could while sitting on the couch, and his hands were quick to find your waist. His touch was gentle as he carefully rubbed his hands around to the small of your back, tugging you closer.

But it wasn’t close enough, not for either of you. His lips pulled off of yours for a short second as he hooked a hand underneath your legs while keeping the other one firmly on your back. His strength always surprised you, as it wasn’t something he demonstrated all too often. With his stature and line of work, though, you don’t know why it caught you off guard when he pulled you into his lap as if you weighed nothing.

“C’mere,” he said, lips brushing against yours once more.

Giggling, you melted back into the kiss, sitting sideways in his lap. Eventually his hands began to wander some. They slowly slid under your shirt, inching up carefully as his fingers met the bare flesh of your waist. He didn’t venture too far. It was simple; polite, even. Going slow enough so that you could stop him with ease if you wanted, and yet still not taking advantage of it and pawing at you like a hungry dog. All he did was savor the touch of your skin.

But you wanted more. It was a weird feeling; wanting to be touched. Feeling like you would waste away without it. No, you didn’t just want to be touched, you wanted to be touched by him. By Simon. There was some sort of insatiable need growing in you that only craved him. So you pulled away, embarrassingly out of breath. The moment you did his hands quickly slid out from underneath your shirt, and you nearly pouted at the loss of contact.

“I missed you,” you said softly. Your hands meandered down to the hem of your shirt where you took the fabric between your fingers before slowly tugging it upwards. He watched you carefully, eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin as you discarded the shirt somewhere on the floor behind you. “I missed you so much.”

When your lips crashed together once more there was more movement involved, as if you were trying to devour one another. Simon’s hands roamed along your back, staying tactfully away from your bra as the pads of his fingers trailed along your skin, sending a tingle along your spine. It wasn’t enough. If anything, it only made things worse. You were burning alive and you would be reduced to ash eventually.

“Simon, I…” you said breathlessly as you pulled out of the kiss again. It caught you off guard just how whiny you sounded. “I want you.”

His eyes quickly glanced at the bed shoved in the corner of the studio, and his arm was already making its way underneath your knees again. So you wrapped your arms around his neck, and moments later you were suspended in the air bridal style, held against his body with nothing but his hands to keep you there. It caused another giggle to bubble out of your chest, which only made Simon smirk.

He could have tossed you onto the bed; gods knew he was strong enough. You half expected him to do it, too. Instead, he set you on the edge of the bed so that your legs were dangling over the side. He towered over you as he stood in front of you, a hand running along your hair. His touch was so soft. He didn’t yank on your hair, or force you to look up at him, he was much more tender than that. God, he was going to be the death of you. Your hands reached out for him and you pulled gently on the fabric of his shirt as you stared up at him, your eyes wide.

“Please?” you asked.

Doing as you asked, Simon slid the shirt over his head in one fluid motion. It wasn’t a secret that he was fit, in fact, it was to be expected for someone like him. The demands of the military, let alone the SAS, were rigorous, and his body reflected that. Toned muscles shone through thick skin which was littered with an array of scars. Some were so faded you could hardly make them out in the dim lighting of his apartment. Others were so deep and angry they nearly made your stomach turn at the thought of what could cause such a thing. Particularly a rather deep scar that punctured through the muscle of his ribs.

Continuing to maintain eye contact with him, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against that scar on his ribs. You could feel the way his muscles rippled underneath your mouth in a shiver. He shivered harder than he ever had when you offered the same comfort to the scar on his cheek.

As if thanking him for being so vulnerable with you, a hand reached behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra, causing your breasts to drop into full view. Once that item of clothing was tossed somewhere to the side, everything fell into place perfectly. Simon leaning down, his lips on yours, your hands tangled in his hair, his fingers pulling off the clothing that covered your bottom half.

At some point you had fallen so that you laid on your back. Simon still stood at the edge of the bed where he took in the sight of your bare body, with nothing on you except for that necklace. It was an odd look he gave you. Like he was hungry, but not greedy. Like he was savoring every second his eyes drank in the sight of you.

You bit your lip and moved your legs upwards some so that your feet were resting on the bed, thighs slightly spread. His eyes dropped down, locking onto the soft flesh between your thighs, but only for a moment before he looked at you again.

Without breaking that eye contact, he slowly lowered so that he was on his knees. His hands gripped your hips and slowly pulled you so that your ass was nearly hanging off the bed. You gasped at the movement, legs flailing slightly as they were once again over the edge. To help keep you steady, he threw your legs over his shoulders as he positioned his head between your thighs.

You propped yourself up on your elbows in order to keep your eyes on him. Your breaths came in quick and short bursts of anticipation as you watched him. The very sight of him alone made you feel weak.

“Just say the word, sweetheart,” he said softly, thumbs caressing your thighs as he held them. “If you want it to stop, then I stop. Yeah?”

Your arms began to shake as you held yourself up, but you nodded your head in response to him. But your nod alone didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy him.

“Okay,” you said, your hips wiggling in anticipation.

Then came the kisses. Soft, open mouthed kisses against the inside of your thigh. He trailed them from the bottom of your thigh near your knee, up towards the plush flesh near your pussy. Each movement was slow and careful while his eyes continued to watch your body, looking for any sign to stop. But when you gave him none, he dove right in.

Stars threatened to blind your vision the moment Simon’s tongue slid along your heat, and your arms fully gave out as you fell back onto the bed. He moved along you slowly and languid, taking his time in trying to find just what made you tick. When his tongue swiped across your clit you found your legs tightening, nearly threatening to crush his head. A soft and breathy moan escaped your lips, which only seemed to fuel his actions.

“Fuck… right there,” you breathed as your fingers laced in his hair.

It was the sign he was looking for, and once those words left your mouth, he kept his mouth on you, tongue swirling along that spot that made your legs shake around his head. A part of you thought he was going to stop. That he would get bored of getting you off with nothing in return and would request something of you instead. But Simon was like a hungry dog that was tossed a bone; a salivating, grunting mess as he ate you out. And god, you had never felt such pleasure. A tight knot formed in the core of your stomach as he continued drawing shaky moans from you.

It was divine. Not just in the burning sensations he ripped from your body, but the numbness that settled over your mind. There was no worry, no fake pornographic moans, no acting. There was just you on your back with Simon’s head between your thighs as he devoured you.

That knot only grew tighter in your body as he continued, and your moans quickly turned into whimpers. Your thighs began to shake and clench uncontrollably, forcing Simon to put a hand on the inside of your legs as a gentle reminder to not smother him before he was done with his meal.

“I’m… fuck… gonna cum,” you said, words punctuated by heavy breaths as your body instinctively tightened.

But he didn’t let up, if anything, he moved faster. Tongue ravaging your clit, large hands holding your hips steady, breaths nearly as fast and uneven as yours. Your fingers tightened in his hair like you were holding on for dear life, and maybe you were. Never before had you felt something so sublime yet so close to death at the same time. He continued to pull every single moan and tremble from your body that he could while his groans threatened to overtake yours.

Something snapped deep inside of you, causing a rush of warmth to flood your entire body. Your breath caught in your throat for a short moment and your legs began to quiver while your orgasm washed over you in a burning heat. Simon held you steady even as your back arched off of the bed. Your mind went blank as you finally breathed again, your entire body shuttering. His tongue continued to work at you, but slowed considerably as your high waned.

Eventually his mouth left you for the first time in what felt like hours. Simon rose from his knees, carefully pushing you back up onto the bed as he did. A soft sheen coated you as a thin sweat made your body appear to glow. Your eyes felt heavy and your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You felt like you were going to melt into the bed. Hell, you almost wanted to. Melt away into the sheets that smelled like Simon while riding away the last bits of your high seemed like the best way to go.

The bed dipped down next to you as Simon sat against the headboard, back propped up by a pillow or two. You looked over at him, a smile pulling at your lips as you rolled over, crawling on your hands and knees towards him.

“Your turn?” you asked, a devilish tint to your voice as you straddled his legs. His jeans were still on, but you knew you could make quick work of it if it came down to it.

To your surprise, Simon shook his head. That glint in your eyes quickly faded at that, and he reached out for you, pulling you into his chest. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin too, much to your surprise, and as you settled into him, moving so that you were at his side, you couldn’t help but be confused.

“Might have to take a raincheck on that, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deepening in the way that it did when he was tired. “Fuckin’ exhausted.”

It made sense. The man did just recently return from being deployed for some mission in The States. But still, it was… odd. No, not odd. Just different. And nice. So, gut wrenchingly nice to be the one taken care of. To have arms wrapped around you, to be held tight, to not feel a burning in your eyes.

To be loved.

That’s what it was like. It was more than being defended when you were threatened, getting flowers at work, or getting a drive home. Anyone can pretend to be nice. Anyone can pretend to love you. But it takes something different to see you at your most vulnerable, your most exposed, and not take advantage of it.

“I love you.” The words left your mouth before you even had time to process that they were on the tip of your tongue in the first place. You raised your head off of his chest and looked him in the eyes before repeating yourself. “I love you so fucking much, Simon.”

Something changed in his expression. His eyes were still warm and exhausted, but something else flickered in there, too. Something faint. Something… sad. But you paid it no mind as one of his hands moved from around your waist to your face, brushing away a stray strand of hair.

“I suppose I’ve grown fond of you, too,” he said, unable to hide the slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Really, you weren’t sure what you expected. Sarcasm was Simon’s second language, afterall. So you playfully rolled your eyes at him as you settled back onto his chest.

“Asshole.”

But you knew what he meant.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The next morning, you awoke to the smell of something burning. It was rancid, and sour, and quite literally stirred you out of your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open. Simon wasn’t in the bed with you, but you noticed that the blanket was smoothed out over your body, and the clothes that had been torn off you the previous night were folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

Pulling the blanket over your chest, you sat up and glanced around the studio. Simon was in the kitchen, bent over the stove as he cooked what you assumed was bacon. It was difficult to tell over that terrible, charred scent.

You slipped out of bed and quickly slipped your shirt over your head, not bothering to put on much else besides that. Running your fingers through your hair, you traveled the short distance away from Simon’s bed to the kitchen, where you quickly made your home leaning against the counter.

“What’cha cooking?”

He turned to glance at you for a short moment, giving you a quick once over before paying attention to his cooking again. Despite the sleep the two of you got that night, he still looked just as exhausted. You wondered if he got as much sleep as he had pretended to.

“Bacon,” he said simply.

You hummed in response, watching as he worked the spatula in the pan. However, your eyes began to wander, and just on the other side of him you could make out the source of that foul scent. A few pieces of perfectly cooked toast sat on a plate right next to two, unrecognizably burnt ones. They were casted aside in shame, it looked like, and the sight of it made you giggle.

“Did you burn toast?” you asked teasingly.

“I’m a soldier, not a chef,” Simon retorted.

His response only made you laugh again, and you made your way to the other side of the stove to get a better look at the mess he made. Yet, as you neared it, your eyes were only drawn to the toaster instead. It was an old hunk of metal, and it probably would have worked pretty decent if it didn’t look like it had been thrown down a flight of stairs a time or two.

“Holy shit. No wonder you burnt it. This thing is fucking ancient,” you said, dumbfounded.

Simon shrugged. “No use in buying a new one. Hardly here anyways.”

He was right. With how often and how long he had to leave for work, he was hardly home for half of the year, if that. It was one of the first things you noticed about his apartment. It was a studio, so it was small, and hardly had the essentials. At first you chalked it up to him being a soldier, used to not having much and surviving on so little. But maybe it was something else.

Still, you shook that thought out of your head as you looked over at him. “Do you want to move in together?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see every muscle in Simon’s body tense. He turned to face you fully, spatula still in hand as he looked down at you. “Huh?”

“Think about it,” you said, reaching out to grab that sad, burnt toast. “You say you’re hardly here. If you moved in, we could spend more time together while you’re home, and I can take care of your things while you’re gone.” You paused as you turned around and walked towards the trash. “You won't have a shitty toaster. I’ve got two bedrooms, so there will be plenty of room for your stuff. And, I don’t know. I think it would be nice. You’ve always taken such good care of me, and I’d like to do the same for you.”

The toast fell into the trash with an unnaturally hard thunk before you turned around to face Simon. He had followed your every move and stood with his back turned to the cooking bacon. His gaze was quizzical, confused almost. Like he was wondering why you would ask such a thing. But then, he looked away and turned his back towards you as he took the bacon out of the pan and set it on a plate on the counter.

“Are you asking, or just thinking?” he questioned.

“I’m being serious,” you assured him.

But his back stayed turned to you as he patted the bacon dry with a paper towel, soaking up any unnecessary grease. It was almost like he wasn’t taking you seriously. No, there was no way he didn’t know you were being serious. Maybe he just couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that someone like you could ever be with him.

So you took a step forward, feet sliding across the tile floor of the kitchen until you were by his side again. His eyes stayed focused on his work as he began setting the plates. Bacon and toast wasn’t exactly a five star meal by any means, but it was enough for you.

“You can tell me if it’s too soon,” you said as you leaned against the counter.

Simon picked up one of the plates and turned to face you. He held it out for you to take as his eyes flickered down to the food. “My lease is up in three months.”

Simon Riley was a strange man. It was something you were able to pick up about him the very moment you met him. And even with all the time the two of you had spent together, getting to know one another, he was still guarded, in a way. Never one to say I love you. Never one to say yes. But his eyes betrayed every word he ever left on the tip of his tongue, and when he looked at you, his mouth nearly did too.

“Great,” you said softly, unable to hide your grin as you took the plate from his hands. “Three months, then.”

Things were so much easier when you weren’t around. When you weren’t standing in front of him, looking up at him like he was your whole world. He used to focus on his work and nothing but it, not caring about the state of his apartment or what food he had to come home to. There was work, and then there was the time in between. That was all it was supposed to be.

Until you. Where he used to see the skulls that haunted his past, his dreams became littered with your face. Everything in him constantly craved the touch of your skin, the feel of your lips against his, the sound of your voice, your smile. He had faced terrorists and death, had died and crawled out of his grave, but he wasn’t sure if he could survive what you were doing to him. But god, at that point, he would let you destroy him.

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #soft spot series

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justalia · 9 months

Text

address the feeling

recently i’ve been thinking about my understandings of the law and i decided to read again some of the stuff i read at the beginning of my journey. i’m glad i did because i now have a deeper understanding of what i thought i understood before, but actually never truly grasped its full meaning.

i have to be honest with you sometimes i still have my moments of anxiety, i still have my mind wondering if i’m doing things right and once in a while i still ask myself if i’m doing enough. shocking right? from my posts you may be thinking that there’s no one that understands the law better than me and you may be thinking “she must have the most perfect self concept i can’t wait to get there”

truth is: we are all humans at the end of the day and we are gonna have our moments, no one is better than anybody and the fact that my posts have helped people fill my heart with joy because i do not think of myself as a teacher, i merely try to share the notes of what i studied for myself and try to write it in a way that can reach anyone easily.

i haven’t felt inspired to post something in a while now, i was just numb cause i thought “there’s nothing else i could possibly share my thoughts on” and i have drafts of posts i have started writing but never finished because i didn’t feel called to do it and i don’t like to force myself to write something.

all my posts come from a burst of inspiration and i write them all at once (or at least i try) seizing the moment in which i feel the most inspired.

this being said what i’m about to address in this post is probably the most important teaching i have come across while reading the source and reading some material again has struck me with inspiration.

————————————————————————

“feeling is the secret.”

what does that mean?

to say that feeling is the secret is to say that feeling is the womb in which all things are born, when felt an idea has to be expressed whether you like it or not, unless you change the feeling and fuse your imagination with its opposite.

you see your physical world has no way of existing if it wasn’t for your imagination, it reflects that and the ideas you believe to be true.

“yeah alia you’ve said that”

i know i know, i have addressed this, these are the basics, but bear with me.

pay attention to what i’ve just said “it reflects the ideas you believe to be true”.

how tiring does that sound? does that mean we have to change our beliefs? does that mean we have to do shadow work and see what ingrained belief we have to dismount?

it doesn’t.

self is what we believe to be true and what gets reflected? self.

inevitably when we start to think about this we think we have to find a magical way to change our beliefs and to trick our mind into believing something new about ourselves or we pretend in hopes to fake it till we make it. we begin this journey prepared to train ourselves, prepared to do dozens of techniques and we fill ourselves with hope.

self is what we believe to be true in this world of imagination, our beliefs get reflected and this is why not every single thing we imagine gets reflected. yes, imagination gets always reflected and it happens instantly, but for that to happen you must believe in the reality of said idea.

what is a belief?

a belief is something, an idea, a concept YOU feel to be true. you is the key word because the sole operant power is you, in your life your world operates according to your assumptions, in your life there is no other creator but imagination, YOUR imagination.

a belief is something you feel to be true because a belief it’s just an idea and it’s powerless until we feel it to be true.

why do we feel it to be true? we decide it is.

you decided that your friend was rude to you because they don’t want to be your friend anymore; you decided that your partner was losing feelings because they were distant one day; you decided you were going to fail the test even if days away because you didn’t feel good enough.

you decided the reason your friend was rude to you was because they didn’t want to be your friend anymore, even if just yesterday they asked you to hang out.

you decided the reason your partner was acting a bit distant today was because they are losing feelings, even if just yesterday they said how much they loved you and bought you flowers.

you decided you were going to fail the test before you even started studying for it because you decided you weren’t smart enough, even if the last test you did went beautifully.

you have been making decisions dismissing the senses your whole life and probably occupying states that do not serve you at all without even realizing it. you have misused your power for so many years it feels too good to be true to finally realize it’s all in your hands.

to decide that your friend was rude because they don’t want to be your friend is just as easy as deciding they just had a bad day and accept that as true.

to decide that your partner is losing feelings because they are acting a bit distant today is just as easy as deciding they just were busy today and accept that as true.

to decide that you’re going to pass the test and that you are smart enough is just as easy to accept as true.

how? how can i accept that as true if reality is showing me the opposite? how can i accept it as true if i failed in the past?

we always disregard appearances, we always disregard and dismiss the senses and accept things as true based on our imagination. there is no outside reality because the true reality is within and as within so without. you accepted it as true and now it is expressing in your life, your mirror is just reflecting what you decided to be true, you had no other proof when you started assuming those negative things about yourself and about others.

think about it! when you first started worrying your partner was losing feelings, did you have proof of it? did you have concrete proof that made you think they wanted to dump you? i think you made an assumption, decided it was true hoped with all your heart it wasn’t, but felt it to be true and soon you were provided with proof and there you go: “just like i thought”.

you decide everything all the damn time!! trust me this is nothing new, the thing is that when it comes to positive things we want to believe to be true we think we need proof, and what is proof? the permission to believe something as true. the 3D never played a part in this, when it came to you assuming negative things about yourself or about others you didn’t think about how it wasn’t true on the outside, did you? when you started feeling insecure in your relationship and worried they would dump you, did you think about how it wasn’t “real” on the outside? did you worry about how the outside was opposite so it couldn’t possibly be true?

no, you didn’t.

you decided it was true, trusted it, dismissed the senses even when completely opposite and soon enough the universe, god, whatever you believe in, provided proof for you.

the power we have is the power of dismissing the senses, the power of deciding what is true or not. and you do that using imagination as your instrument. yes, imagination gets expressed but imagination is not just the silly little scenarios you make up, imagination is your mental activity and what gets expressed is what you believe to be true in imagination.

again when it came to negative stuff you were well aware that the outside was opposite from what you believed to be true but you didn’t care one bit and it still manifested into your life. your lover was distant one day, you assumed they lost feelings, the next day they tell you how much they love you and you assume they are lying, you assume the outside isn’t as true as what you believe to be true inside.

you sustain that feeling, you trust it, and it gets expressed.

you never actually waited to look at your partner and see them telling you they were losing feelings before you assumed they were. you never worried about what the 3D was showing you, you never CARED for it.

when you assume something new about yourself and you imagine yourself to already be the one you wish to be you do so because by imagining you are experiencing it in the true reality. imagining it to be already realized helps because your imagination is a tool, it’s an instrument that makes it easier to trust the new idea you decided to assume about yourself because you actually experienced it.

when you imagine yourself in a new state and you do so by, for example, conjuring up a scene, you do so because you want to experience what you desire. you want to live it, you want to experience it and feel it to be true, that’s what the scenes are for, you visualize a scene that implies your objective realized and you indulge in that peacefully enjoying it.

you don’t have to necessarily visualize scenes, affirm, or do this or that technique. these are just tools, methods you can use to use your imagination in a way that is most comfortable to you. for example i am naturally a visualizer so to get myself in a new state sometimes i find it helpful to conjure up a scene that implies my objective realized and experience it, i enjoy it fully and when i open my eyes i trust the implications of that scene to be true, i just experienced it, who’s gonna tell me i didn’t?

what you need more than anything is to give yourself permission to trust in the reality of imagination, that’s the only thing you need.

yes, you are allowed to believe you are good enough for that job; you are allowed to believe you are safe and secure in relationships; you are allowed to believe anything you want no matter how far fetched it might seem.

you can be so bold with your scenes, or your affirmations. you imagine the most perfect scene or say the most wonderful affirmations but i dare you to be as brave with feeling as you are with your scenes and your words.

i dare you to accept it is true, i dare you to believe it is true because you said it is, and then again i’m not talking about the outside!!! i’m talking about imagination because imagination is the only reality. if it is true in imagination and it is because you can just DECIDE it is, then it’s truth. there’s nothing more to do on your part, you just sustain that state and everything else will take care of itself.

free yourself entirely in your mind and accept as truth whatever you desire to be true about yourself, you can imagine yourself to be confident, smart, beautiful, loved, cared for and you can give yourself permission to accept it to be true inside of imagination and see yourself exactly how you want to see yourself.

stop caring about how it’ll happen or if it will happen or what will happen and just FEEL.

FEEL WHATEVER YOU TRULY WANT TO FEEL.

address the feeling

what do i mean by that?

pay attention to your mental activity for one day and see where your mind wonders naturally, that will tell you your current state.

let’s say you get ugly thoughts, you think you’re not enough and that you are going to fail the test you have in two weeks. pay attention to your mental activity and see how the thoughts FOLLOW the feeling, and not viceversa. first you get the feeling of unworthiness and then you start thinking “i’m not enough i will fail i can’t do this”, there is no inherent truth in those thoughts.

it may be difficult to notice at first but everything starts from a feeling and then the thoughts follow. there is no thought you have to flip because they hold no truth and no power by themselves, they are simply a manifestation of your FEELING.

fearful feeling gives birth to fearful thoughts. anxious feeling gives birth to anxious thoughts. lonely feeling gives birth to thoughts of loneliness. insecure feeling gives birth to insecure thoughts.

the only reason why you believe something to be true is because you FEEL it. there’s no actual truth in those fearful, anxious, insecure thoughts.

YOU FELT FEAR and the fearful thoughts came along and then you started worrying about them manifesting into your life. YOU FELT INSECURE and the thoughts of insecurity and unworthiness came alone and you started feeling bad about yourself and unworthy of your desire.

just as easily as you felt insecure you can feel secure, just as easily as you felt fear you can feel safe.

you create the feeling you desire to feel and you indulge in that, you FEEL it because why would you deny yourself of such experience if you can have it?

why would you deny yourself from experiencing what you want in your own mind? why would you create blockages? why don’t you feel what you want to feel? because you are scared? scared of what? of it not working? working for what?

this is not a method for fuck’s sake. this is not a technique!!! this is how you are living, this is how you have lived and how you’ll always live.

change your feeling, allow yourself to feel what you want to feel and thoughts will naturally come from that, and from thoughts will come actions and from actions will come events. NATURALLY.

there’s no work on your part, meaning that you don’t have to worry about what you need to think or do, you will naturally do that. and this goes for opposite action too: if you’re manifesting to pass all your tests with straight A’s and you go and decide to sit on your ass all day without studying you are still messing with the how! you are pretending you have something IN THE MIRROR when you DON’T! you have it in imagination ONLY. your job is to change self and you don’t change self by pretending or acting as if you have something in the mirror.

your job is to simply FINALLY give yourself permission to actually FEEL.

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zoe-oneesama · 3 months

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Less of a question and more of a comment? But your most recent ask about your Angelic Layer AU. which I love btw big AL fan, reminded me just how jarring the choices between the anime and manga were, that honestly, the anime probably gave the series a better boost in popularity overall just by way of HOW it handled everything, including the juggling relationships, because the way the manga pairs everyone off it strange

It was baffling to behold...uuuuuntil I looked at the manga vs anime release dates. Then it made sense. The manga started first...then then anime caught up but the manga wasn't done...so the anime went off and did it's own thing.

And it's own thing was insane. 🙃

I guess I get it because in most anime when they catch up to source material they'll add in tons of filler so the manga can make more material, but that only really works if the anime and manga are...popular. And Angelic Layer is most decidedly not. Though hilariously that didn't stop them from trying with stuff like a beach episode. A BEACH episode with MIDDLE schoolers and their dolls.

Now You might not like the way the middle schoolers got paired off at the end (seriously, who saw Tamayo dating the pervert high schooler who guesses people's underwear prints, like, wut?) but at least Misaki and Kotaro had build up. Boring, milktoast build up, but build up.

The anime's decision to go along with that build up, catch up to the manga, and then completely ditch all that to suddenly make Misaki oblivious to Kotaro despite for like 12 episode having a clear crush on him, give Ohjiro a crush on Misaki's mother just to turn around and pair him with Misaki, making Ichiro ALSO have a crush on Misaki's mother, and then suddenly reframe all of Tamayo's endless beatings on Kotaro and teasing him about his feelings for Misaki be a sign that she had a crush all this time...

Yeah big yikes. I usually root for the childhood friend in anime, so, way to go Angelic Layer for breaking that rule for me.

Not to say all the changes were bad. I liked the expansion on the game, including the kinda team/pit crew idea they threw in for the National Tournament, and the longer episodes made all the upgrades that were introduced to the game feel better paced and more monumental than they did in the manga. I definitely felt the tension and drama much better between Misaki and her mother in the anime. It was the only time I cried watching and the first time Misaki felt like a rounded dimensional character. And while I took a jab at Icchan getting a crush on Mama Shuko, with their backstory and the way it directly effected the development of Angelic Layer the game, I was kinda into it in the vacuum of the show.

(Though my Chobits loving heart kept shouting about how he has a WHOLE ASS WIFE-!)

#angelic layer

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night-raven-tattler · 1 month

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Hello Mx Tattly, I hope I can request some angst for GN!MC x Jamil? Basically, what could be the reasons for them to break up, and how would Jamil handle the fallout?

Hello, anon! Mx Tattly is pleased with the request! Being a teen in love is hard, and first relationships are rarely successful. Mx Tattly still hopes you enjoy!

Relationships are...

Characters: Jamil × GN!Reader (romantic)

Warnings: angst, failing relationship, breakup, misunderstandings, mention of crying

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

1. Relationships are a stupid idea, but everyone is a bit stupid sometimes, even Jamil.

The moment Jamil agreed to go on your first date, his first date, he knew there was no coming back

Something about the new territory and the uncertainty of teenage love made him nervous

He interpreted the nerves making his stomach twist and turn as the famous love butterflies everyone was talking about

Maybe in the beginning they were

When everything was nice and you both were riding the high of the relationship

You seemed to understand him so well, doing your best to support him by supporting him emotionally or giving a hand with his tasks around the dorm

You loved his cooking, his meticulous nature and his dedication to be on top of everything

And he knew that

He cooked you meals that he always called “leftovers” because admitting he put some of his time aside just for you felt a little too personal, too much

He memorized your schedule and always “just happened to pass by you” while you were heading to classes outside of the school building

He offered you the possibility of joining him and Kalim when they studied, wanting to help you understand more of his world without outwardly saying it

Jamil wished to be understood, to be read for once

But maybe the reading material he tried to offer you was in a language you were not ready to learn…

One evening after his club activities, you tried to invite him to spend the night with you

A sleepover, nothing more

Jamil would’ve loved that

Being away from Kalim for a night, enjoying some alone time with his sweetheart…

But he remembered Kalim needed help putting his uniform in the morning

And he also had to prepare his breakfast

And leaving at the crack of dawn just to help him and inconvenience you by waking you up was not worth it

He thought he did the right thing by refusing your offer- no, he knew he did the right thing

Inconveniencing you was unacceptable, his sweetheart deserved to enjoy their sleep

It’s the least he could do after denying your thoughtful offer

“...Okay. I get it. Maybe next time.”

Exactly, next time! When he will be able to trust Kalim more-

No, trust his dorm mates to care for Kalim better so he can have time for himself

But you have to accept the fact that Kalim was someone he was obligated to prioritize

And he knew you understood, he was sure of it by now

Otherwise, you wouldn't have agreed to date him, right?

『••✎••』

2. Relationships are far too complicated, why can’t the feelings involved just be easier to deal with?

Jamil wasn’t lucky enough to have a simple life

He cared for you, really

But the way you started being less talkative to him made no sense to him

He offered you dinner every evening, still calling it “leftovers” but now as an inside joke

And he even stood with you for a few minutes while you ate before running back to Scarabia after a frantic call from one of the students about Kalim

“Yeah, I understand. Go, Jamil. Hope you don’t have too much of a mess to clean up.”

And the next day, he’d make sure to walk you to your classes outside the main school building

Even if Kalim trailing after you like a hyperactive puppy

Or even if he could only walk you halfway through because he didn’t dare leave Kalim unsupervised for too long

Despite your silence, you still accepted his presence

And even warmed up to him back somewhat as you walked

But then things would get weird with your mood again

Jamil tried explaining a simple formula to you that you simply couldn’t wrap your head around

No matter how he explained it to you, it was something beyond your comprehension

“I know you can do it, Reader. Just focus.”

“I am focusing, Jamil. I think I just need a break, that’s all.”

“Alright, but after 10 minutes we’ll get back to it again. I can’t have you fall behind, even Kalim understands it.”

After the 10 minutes ran out, you made an excuse to leave and packed your things while you asked him not to text you for the rest of the day

Jamil wasn’t stupid, but feelings sure made him feel like it

After all, he was finally to put together the source of your frustration

『••✎••』

3. Relationships are a sham.

Talking to you about your frustrations with Kalim was fruitless

“You’re too glued to him, you deserve some space!”

“When was the last time we simply spent some time together without any disturbances?!”

“He won’t die if you let him on his own for a bit! What is he, a child?!”

He left your dorm more frustrated than before

Frustrated at Kalim for consuming his life like the parasyte he was

Frustrated at you for not understanding his position

Frustrated at himself...

For thinking you’d understand…

He never got what he wanted, why would this time be different?!

He collapsed on his bed and lost sleep over his self pity

『••✎••』

4. Relationships are tough… but is it that bad?

You came to him early in the morning, and apologized profusely for your outburst

You understood his position, you really thought you did

But the frustration got to you, no matter how hard you tried to push it away

Jamil accepted your apology, and you clung onto each other for the next few days, a reminder of the early days

But even after making amends, you never managed to quite find your old footing again

Jamil started forgetting about making your dinner with you and brought actual leftovers with him

It’s still the thought that counts, right?

You understood the moment you noticed the sudden abundance of spices

You also told Jamil he didn’t need to guide you around school all the time, you can just meet when you had classes around the same area

You went back to studying with both Kalim and Jamil, but you only payed attention when Jamil was explaining a concept both you and Kalim would need for your classes

You finally found a balance

That’s what he thought anyway

Yes, the time spent together seemed to diminish slightly, but no couple had all partners glued to each other all the time, right?

That’s why the return of your silence made his stomach turn

But, this time, you broke your own silence

“I don’t think I like the way things are going, Jamil.”

“I care about you, I do, but I know you’re spreading yourself too thin.”

“I miss having alone time with you, I… I can’t keep going like this. I’m sorry.”

You waited for a reply, any reply

Jamil only said one thing

“As you wish.”

You stood there for a few seconds, unsure what to do

Then you rushed out of his room

As a last act of kindness to you as his lover, he let you go

He finally realised you felt caged, so he released you

Jamil has felt caged his entire life

And doing that to you was too much for him

He let you go the moment you wanted out without putting up a fight

He could take his revenge on Kalim because he hated him

But you…

He couldn’t hate you, as much as he wanted to in that moment

All Jamil could hate was himself for not being better at this whole relationship thing, maybe that would’ve made you stay longer

『••✎••』

5. Relationships are not his cup of tea

Jamil was somewhat numb after the breakup

It was just a relationship, he didn’t need to fret over it for too long

He tried moving forward and simply sticking to his routine

A routine that he intertwined so much with yours that he often saw you in the hallways

When you saw him, you did your best to keep things brief and leave as soon as possible

You obviously were trying to “make things less awkward”

But he was clearly unbothered

He was fine

Everything was fine

So why didn’t you want to talk to him like before?

Did the friendship you had before dating just go up in flames?!

He soon followed your lead, avoiding you just like you avoided him

Kalim became the sole background noise of his life once again, but he had no more energy to be frustrated about it

He didn’t like to admit it but Kalim being his usual annoying self helped him slip back into his routine before meeting you

Except for when Kalim talked about you

A conversation topic Jamil refused to indulge with

Kalim missed you and became sad when you rejected his attempts at smoothing things over for his friend

And Jamil had no energy to argue with him anymore

After all, he deserved the silence and the awkwardness and the avoidance and the emptiness

The numb ache in his heart that reminded him of everything he did wrong

A growing dull ache that he never seemed to shake away

Until one night, when he woke up from a dream that had you in it

And he allowed to cry for you once

Just once

At least once

And it helped him slightly slip back to his old self again

His grumpy yet meticulous, clever yet in hiding, caring yet clumsy in the affairs of love

At the end of the day he had to accept the fact that whatever happened is over, and his only option is moving forward

The numb ache slowly dwindled as he saw you less and less, your past connection a blurry memory

Maybe relationships are not for him

He had better things to look after anyway

Like... you know, what he's always been doing

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #no beta we die like jamil's relationship......... the tattler will see himself out goodbye

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suzukiblu · 1 month

Text

WIP excerpt behind the cut; Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones (yes, including the supervillain one).

“Why does Superman have civilian clothes?” Match asks instead. Thirteen–pauses, then just shrugs.

“Ask him,” he says, which means he knows and is just being an asshole. Figures.

“More thorough scans would be helpful,” Jor-El says as they approach a very large . . . well, Match genuinely doesn’t know. It might be a computer. There’s a screen involved, at least. The rows of crystals underneath said screen are definitely not a part of any kind of “computer” he’s ever seen before, but it’s still the likeliest theory he’s got. “The infirmary is not currently optimized for cloned lifeforms, but we should be capable of extrapolation where necessary. And the Fortress’s programming is certainly familiar with Kryptonian-human hybrids, at this point.”

Match doesn’t respond, considering how obvious a statement that was. His genes are functionally identical to Thirteen’s, after all, so of course Superman’s already familiar with his physiology. Well–of course he’d have access to Thirteen’s files, more accurately.

“Um,” Thirteen says, frowning in confusion. “It is?”

Match cannot believe how incredibly stupid his gene donor is. Is Thirteen somehow under the impression that advanced alien technology can't access Cadmus’s files? Hell, the Agenda can get into those with minimal effort. Cadmus’s lab security is not impressive. He's walked right in the front door enough times at this point.

“It is, yes,” Jor-El agrees. “If you could hold still for a moment, please. Both of you, ideally. We may as well scan you as well, Kon-El.”

Match–frowns.

Wait. If the Fortress already has Thirteen's files, then why . . .

A pale blue-white light materializes from the crystals beneath the screen and pans over both him and Thirteen. He doesn't feel any hint of warmth from the light or hear anything, and there's no pain.

In addition to the pain he's already in, he means. Obviously.

The whole process seems very . . . simple, for a DNA scan. Not involved enough.

Not–what he would've expected.

That's all.

He assumes this is just a first step, and the actual analysis will involve something more invasive or–

“Scan complete,” Jor-El announces as the light flicks off. “Genetic profiles now on file for Kon-El and the as yet unnamed new member of the House of El currently classified as ‘Match’. Proper name impending.”

Match has absolutely no idea what to say to any of that.

“I think the AI is malfunctioning,” he says to Thirteen, who scowls at him.

“Rude much?” he says.

“It just called me a ‘member of the House of El’,” Match reminds him dubiously.

“. . . maybe Kal can run a virus scan or something,” Thirteen mutters under his breath with a grimace. Match resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's a gesture he only ever started doing to impersonate Thirteen anyway.

“All Fortress systems are currently running at peak performance,” Jor-El says like a malfunctioning AI would even be an accurate source, then gestures off to the side. “The basic medical supplies are this way. Please follow me.”

“The damage is minimal,” Match says. He's healed from worse without wasting medical supplies. The burns aren't even third-degree. Superman can't possibly want to spend actual resources on him, much less anything that would presumably need to be replaced or recharged later.

“Then treatment will also be minimal,” Jor-El replies matter-of-factly before heading off. “This way.”

He's definitely malfunctioning.

Thirteen follows Jor-El, though, and Match doesn’t know what else to do, so he does too. Either way he doesn’t want Superman to catch up when he’s by himself, so . . .

He doesn’t even know what Superman is doing right now, aside from presumably making whatever call he needed to make, and who knows what that’s about or for. Maybe he’s warning the Justice League about the likelihood of the Agenda causing problems for them, publicity-wise. Or . . . something to that effect, anyway.

They’ll take the opportunity to, he’s sure. The Agenda doesn’t miss opportunities like that.

The infirmary is sparse and open and both laboratory-bright and laboratory-sterile, but still . . . off, somehow. Something about it just seems . . . off.

Match isn’t sure what, exactly.

Maybe it’s just that he can’t smell blood or bleach.

Jor-El instructs him through using the cleaning wipes and disinfectant spray and strange alien bandages from the supplies–Match, like usual, uses his tactile telekinesis to keep himself from flinching when it hurts–and Thirteen tries to help, which is irritating. Match glowers at him until he backs off, which takes twice as long as it should.

Superman probably wouldn’t appreciate him killing Thirteen, after all the fuss. And Superman’s . . . in charge of him now, he thinks. Technically. Probably.

For now, at least.

The Agenda will want him back, so . . .

So for now, yes. Until the Agenda reclaims him and disposes of him as a failed experiment.

Superman would be–harder to reclaim him from, though. Harder than government custody. Maybe even harder than the Justice League in general, because Superman by himself doesn’t necessarily have to answer to the same specific pressures the whole League altogether would.

So if he does . . . whatever Superman wants him to do, exactly–if he does whatever makes Superman want to keep him, for whatever reason Superman decided he wanted to keep him to begin with . . .

He won’t be disposed of as soon, if he does that. Eventually Superman will change his mind and the Agenda will take him back, but–only eventually.

Not yet.

So he just needs to do that.

Match can do that. Superman can't be any harder to please than the Agenda. He . . . thinks he can't, anyway.

Superman tolerates Thirteen, so . . .

#wip: clark panic-adopts his teenage clones

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leviaana · 10 months

Text

Miraculous Movie Review (Rating: 4/10)

I watched the preview of the Awakening movie yesterday and really want to share my honest review. There’s going to be several things that I’ll criticize. So be warned!

Also: Spoilers!! DON’T read it if you haven’t seen it yet. This is my personal opinion. So please stay excited for it!! 🐞🪄

First of all, my overall rating for this movie is a 4/10. Just yesterday I was ready to give it a 5/10, but quickly noticed it had much more things that upset me than I initially realized when walking out of the movie.

I know it’s a pretty low rating coming from such a huge fan like myself, but that’s probably the main issue. I’m a big fan of the show, so changes in lore and characterization will be more apparent to me. For better or for worse, in this case, mostly for worse.

On the first glimpse the movie seems like a retelling - a soft reboot, if you will - of show’s origin story. The plot goes much further than that however, as it also provides a conclusion in form of a final battle with Hawkmoth as well as an identity reveal of our two main heroes.

In order to ensure the entire premise fits into a 90 minute movie, a lot of things regarding the shows lore were simplified. I say that as a neutral statement seeing as a simplification can be either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on your opinion of the source material.

Personally, it left me rather unsatisfied but I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with the good things!

One of the things I really enjoyed was the animation! Seeing miraculous with such a high production value certainly felt like a cool summer breeze. While I do prefer the original character models style wise, it was still just nice to see them in this cutesie pretty style! The locals were gagging!

Ladybug and Cat Noir were especially gorgeous!

I also really enjoyed the singing. I watched the German dub and it was very neat!

Sad to say that was pretty much how long my enjoyment lasted. Everything apart from what I’ve mentioned above was… interestingly handled… to say the least. Let me elaborate.

1. The dialogue was awful!

Truly not the biggest fan of musicals but I couldn’t wait for them to start singing just in order for them to STOP TALKING 😩!

The dialogue was so awkward and stiff. All of the characters were interacting very weirdly with each other. At times it would sound like several lines of dialogue were cut from the final version, as the characters barely acknowledged each other verbally. They didn’t talk with each other, but past each other.

Moreover, every second phrase was a very cheesy one liner. “Believe in yourself.”, “Listen to your heart.”, “stronger together”. Super overdone.

The movie wanted to be inspirational so bad, it forgot to be genuine.

Some examples that I recall from memory:

“Mom, I don’t have any friends and I’m scared to go I school.”

“Just believe in yourself, Marinette.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Or.

“Tikki, I’m in love with Adrien.”

“Listen to your heart, Marinette.”

“My heart……Adrien.”

2. How did they manage to make Ladynoir banter … weird and uncomfortable to watch?

Don’t let these pretty movie shots fool you because Movie!ladynoir spent their time in a constant roasting competition that they were somehow both losing!

Not once did they manage to establish that flirty and charming atmosphere around them. No, they were draaaagging each other through filth. And maybe it could have been somewhat fun, god knows I love couples that can roast each other. If only the dialogue was better and didn’t reek of “we have no idea how young people interact”.

In a desperate attempt to make jokes, they let Chat call LB a sidekick or watermelon in every. single. scene. To say that it got annoying when the jokes didn’t land the first 10 times they were made is an understatement. No Milady, no Bugginette, no little wink or a kiss on the hand. Only watermelon and sidekick. Them talking in weird cut off phrases. With careless whisper playing in the background.

Don’t get me wrong, there are some beautiful moments. But their beauty can only ever do so much when met with weird pacing, dialogue and characterization. I’ll talk about that last part in a minute.

3. Everything was so on-the-nose.

The characters would constantly say how they feel and what they think aloud. Jeremy didn’t trust us with even an ounce of media literacy. Classic case of always telling, never showing. Not to mention the constant inspirational quoting in a desperate attempt to convey some deep message. Is this a movie script or my moms facebook page? I guess we‘ll never know.

4. Characterization: Marinette

Having Marinette be somewhat scatterbrained but overall still respected by her peers is not inspirational enough! Make her your average teenage outcast and a total loser. Dad, you’re embarrassing me in front of the cool kids!

If you enjoy that kind of characterization that’s okay! Personally, I thought it was very cliche. It just.. didn’t do anything for her as a character. Having her start off at a much „lower” point in life, with almost no support system, only makes her coming of age journey to eventually become a self accepting confident heroine take longer. Seeing as the movie is only 90 minutes, the moment we see her “shine” is when it’s all almost over.

5. Ladybug …?

Did I mention Ladybug doesn’t use her lucky charm? Not. once. No crazy plans to show that she’s smart and creative. Just a pretty girl swinging around.

6. Adrien

I have a bit more to criticize about the characterization of Movie!Adrien.

The longer I think about it, the more it becomes apparent that they really didn’t know how to write Adrien. His personality appears inconsistent, almost like they were trying to fit him in too many roles at once. He is either extremely closed off and mysterious (even towards his friends), a comic relief character, bathing in self pity or just outright cocky. Those hoping to see his politeness and selflessness will be disappointed. This character only is ever shown to be self centered. A perfect example is how he *didn’t do anything* to be called worthy of the Black Cat Miraculous. He was just one of the „chosen ones“. When the Adrien from the series sacrificed his own freedom to help Master Fu.

Another example is how this Adrien doesn’t really see anything in Marinette. He called her strange in their first interaction and never really lost a single thought on her throughout the rest of the series. No common praises, no support, just awkwardness and not the wholesome kind. In fact, I would argue Marinette and Adrien aren’t even friends in the movie, the only interaction to suggest otherwise was slammed as a 5 second scene in a 2 minute montage.

Even if you were to suggest their bond was formed off screen. We don’t really see it ever take root. He even turned down her gift and invitation to go to the ball with her. Yes, you guessed correctly. It was because he was busy bathing in self pity over being rejected by Ladybug. Yikes.

To sum it up, this Adrien really doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Ever. They massacred my boy.

7. Chat Noir

His charming smugness as Chat Noir crossed the fine line that turned to arrogance.

Considering how Adrien was characterized, that comes as no surprise.

As mentioned in my criticism towards the dialogue and the Ladynoir dynamic, this Cat is often seen discrediting LB with unfunny jokes. The moment you see him actually appreciate Ladybug, open up to her and Woo her, it’s all overshadowed by his entitlement to her affection.

Some may argue that we see traces of such attitude in the show as well. However, in a series, Chat Noir has many redeeming qualities as well as time to grow, change and move past these flaws. And boy, move past these flaws he did. In the movie, it’s all you get. Take it or leave it.

In one scene, he even lets her think he was hurt by an Akuma in order to catch her worrying about him. It was just a short scene and most people would look past it, but I think it’s these small details that really show how these movie characters tick in comparison to the series.

8. Akumas/Hawkmoth

Just a small detail that kind of ended up taking away the enjoyment of all action scenes is how the Akumas in the movie do not have a motive. There’s just some random people that you don’t care about before their akumatization and that you won’t care about after.

Hawkmoth doesn’t make a deal with them, ask for ladybug and chat noirs miraculous in exchange for his powers, none of that.

He just makes them evil and they do evil things for shits and giggles. The movies premise doesn’t even suggest he needs the miraculous. He just needs to get close enough to Ladybug and Chat Noir to steal Tikki and Plagg.

9. The Ending

I just wanted to dip into that ending real quick. In the movie, Gabriel is redeemed when he finds out about Chat Noir being Adrien. He apologizes to him and they make up. The scene surely will make people emotional, but from my perspective it was all rather predictable.

Whether or not Gabe was worthy of a redemption in the movie is a topic to discuss on its own. Personally, I was okay with it.

What I found more interesting however was…

10. The reveal

This is the moment most people have been waiting and yearning for. And I may sound a bit smug when I say that the movie served a good purpose to show us that a fast reveal would have never ever been satisfying!

It was super underwhelming because - of course it was!

Marinette and Adrien barely had a connection! For all we know they could have been total strangers and their reaction to each other’s identity wouldn’t have been any different than what we saw in the movie.

We never saw Marichat or Ladrien interact either. So that certainly lead to a less explored dynamics. Cue unsatisfying reveal.

They really tried to make it this big emotional final moment, but really? We just saw Ladybug and Chat Noir lean in for a kiss without their masks. Like in a new fit. Nothing really groundbreaking came out of it.

Any fake reveal in the show was better than that and I mean it with every fiber of my being.

And don’t even get me started on how Adrien only ever noticed Marinette when she revealed to be Ladybug. It’s just not it.

Final thoughts.

There’s sooo many more things that I could elaborate on but I think for now I’ve said enough to support my rather poor rating of the movie.

In my opinion, the movie relies too much on people enjoying the source material while trying to be its own thing. It risks leaving everyone unsatisfied.

Those who watch the movie as a stand-alone are met with weird dialogue as well as plot, characters and dynamics that aren’t at all fleshed out.

Meanwhile those who watch the movie because they like the show will be inevitably comparing the movie to its far superior source material.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #cat noir #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous the movie #awakening #mlb awakening #mlb movie #ladybug and cat noir the movie

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gatitties · 3 months

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HEYYYY I hope ur doing fine!! And that ur having a happy thanksgiving/ Christmas! I got a request for u!! I saw ur rules and saw that you can write for demon slayer too! And i wanted to ask.

Can I request a Strawhats x Teen!Tanjiro! Reader? Where the reader is a sweet, compassionate and kind kid. They have a heart of gold and they’re very responsible and respectful!! Though they can get annoyed when someone is rude or being cowardly. But they’re so sweet and encourage others so much!!! They always go around doing chores, cleaning, helping out without needing to be asked. They’re so lovable and cuddly!!! And the crew loves their youngest member!! They’re not afraid to ask for help and they know when to let others handle it without a complaint, always smiling and being gentle and sweet with others!!

Take your time with the request!!! I love your writing sm and I hope u never stop! Please and thanks!!!❤️

─Strawhats x teen!Tanjiro!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: You are the most admirable and educated person on the ship despite being the youngest person, your senses make you stand out in addition to your kindness.

─Warnings: none

I'm sorry it took me so long to answer this, but a lot of things accumulated, I hope you like it and that you had a nice Christmas 😭🫶🏻

─ You are probably the most trustworthy person on the entire ship even if you are the youngest.

─ You are so reliable and kind, you always sit and listen to Nami's problems when she gets irritated, you solve the fights between Sanji and Zoro, you have long talks with Robin about books that she recommends to you…

─ Everyone appreciates your presence because you are reassuring, no matter what problem they are in, you will always make sure that before acting, everyone thinks with their heads, at least almost everyone since it is impossible to stop Luffy's impulses.

─ You practice your sword movements with Zoro, although you have no one who can teach you or guide you better in your breathing methods.

─ Chopper is stressed when you decides to risk your health for the sake of others, which is, most of the time.

─ You are young and you still don't know many things about the world, which is why you are always hanging around the ship, asking random questions in order to learn more, Jinbe is always your trusted source when you don't know about something, Brook and Robin also help because of who are from the elders.

─ You love playing with Luffy, Chopper and Usopp with anything they propose, however you are out of pranks if you know they might bother someone, it's fine if they are innocent pranks.

─ You are willing to help with anything, Franky loves that you are his little helper even though you have no idea about the materials he asks you to give him.

─ When Sanji discovers your good sense of smell, he decides to train you in the kitchen so that you can not only smell danger, but also good food.

─ The first time they saw you hit your head on something they thought you would have a concussion later, however you got up shaking your head to remove the remains of the thing you had broken.

─ Luffy wants to launch you like a missile after seeing that, just to see how many things your hard head can break.

─ Don't worry, Nami will hit him kindly just for thinking about using you as a weapon of destruction.

─ This crew loves you, but seriously, you can't take pity on all your enemies, some will take advantage of your kindness.

─ The least they want is for you to be affected by your gentle personality, they will fight to maintain that warm smile that makes them melt as if you were the sun itself.

#op #one piece #request #one piece x reader #reader insert #tanjiro!reader #strawhats #strawhats x reader #strawhats x tanjiro!reader #sfw #platonic reader #teen reader #strawhats x teen reader #strawhats x platonic reader #one piece x platonic reader

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red-hot-kick · 5 months

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Theory: Ryuji was popular, before.

I'm not entirely sure if anyone has really talked about this but I maintain my interpretation that, in the canon of Persona 5, Ryuji used to be very (or at least moderately) popular prior to the events of the story.

This is something I've gotten into before when talking to friends who like the game and the character, but I haven't really considered writing it down until now. The main argument I have is based on three things:

Things Ryuji alluded to in canon (but no one believed him on)

The deliberate choice of making him a track athlete

Typecasting for voice actors

1: "There were girls all over me!"

I don't really have the time to go on a deep dive through all the instances in which he hints at his reputation before the Kamoshida incident, but I think the most clear-cut representation of this was during the scene where he and Ann spend the day with Futaba during her post-palace social rehabilitation:

So here's the thing...I don't think he's lying about this. Nobody in the room would be that impressed to find out whether Ryuji was popular since they are already friends (or in Mona's case, he really just doesn't care), so it wouldn't make sense for him to lie.

Regarding everyone's reactions though, here's my impression: Ann was simply not aware of what was going on with the track team, being predominantly focused on dealing with rumors, her friendship with Shiho, and her modeling career (and eventually Kamoshida's advances once he started doing that shit) and she mentions a few times that she and Ryuji weren't actually close before joining the PT; they were just in the same class in middle school. Futaba hasn't interacted with anyone her age in years and isn't the most reliable source when it comes to what people generally find attractive; just because she doesn't have any interest in Ryuji doesn't mean that nobody her age would. And Morgana is a cat that brags constantly about how cool he is, so he shouldn't be throwing rocks.

There are many other times in the game when you get little glimpses of his social savvy, and from my understanding of Royal (I'm an OG vanilla P5 player and haven't done 3rd-semester yet, so don't kill me) when the track team returns to "how it was", he is getting along extremely well with everyone. Not only was he the team's ace: this kid was also expected to become the captain by his senior year (as briefly mentioned when he bumps into his former senpai at the gym, iirc). That's huge! If his team held him in such high regard, then the general student body of Shujin surely had a similar opinion. This brings me to my next point:

2: Girls like boys that run fast(???)

This is honestly something that baffles me. It's also really difficult for me to substantiate; any source material on this is obviously in Japanese and if I could find any of it, I sure as hell can't read it. The only English-language source I know of I cannot find anymore; I think it was an old Tofugu article? However. If you've watched any romance anime set in a high school during the last 20 years, you might have seen this trope at some point: the school sports festival is happening, and the relay race is kind of a huge deal (it's the final event! a make-or-break moment for the class!). The boy thinks to himself "If I win this race, I'll be able to win her heart/ask her out/etc." Low-stakes drama ensues. Maybe a confession happens.

This is (from what I've been told) based on a long-standing trend of girls and women self-reporting in surveys about how, oftentimes, their crushes in junior or senior high school were simply "the boy who ran the fastest in the races". I have no idea what this means in a broader cultural context. It makes no goddamn sense to me at all. Do not cite me on this. But I think it's worth keeping in mind, even if it's almost entirely speculative (and possibly outdated) information. And even if it's just based on rumors, don't you think it's pretty in-character for Ryuji to go for a track scholarship—despite being adept at other sports like baseball and football/soccer, as mentioned in P5 and P5D—because he was aware of the potential of being more popular with girls? Of course, his priority would be getting the scholarship and paying his way through school to lighten his mother's burden, but hey, getting a girlfriend on the way up wouldn't be half bad!

I think this could also inform us as to why Kamoshida (as a predator who wanted attention from high school girls) felt so threatened by the track team in particular, and why he felt a need to specifically knock Ryuji down a peg and sought out a weakness to do so (as opposed to targeting any of the probably just-as-popular boys on the many other athletic teams and clubs in the school). Just some food for thought on this one! Also, if anyone can find a source or has any insight on the relay race thing, please share. I am so confused about it.

3: Typecasting

So this is something that you really only notice if you are very into keeping up with seiyuu in Japan. I am not one of those people. But I do have some favorite voice actors! One of these being Mamoru Miyano.

So I freakin' love this dude. He's voiced a lot of my favorite characters, sings incredibly well, and has an unreal sense of comedy. He's stated in interviews that his acting inspiration is Jim Carrey, and let me tell you: it shows. He is also quite consistently typecast into certain roles, predominantly as princely pretty-boy types, Coolguys, or complete fucking nutcases. Sometimes all three at the same time (shoutout to my boy Ling FMA!)

ATLUS definitely cast him for P5 because of his comedic chops. But I think they also cast him because having him voice someone like Ryuji is a great way to subvert expectations for the player. I think it's supposed to give you whiplash—"what do you mean the voice of LIGHT FUCKING YAGAMI is coming out of this guy's mouth?" "why does the delinquent character sound like king of the host club Tamaki Suou?" "isn't that Rin Matsuoka's voice?" etc. etc. etc.

(here's a quick list, just to really get the idea across. maybe you recognize a few.)

This is obviously a non-comprehensive list, but something that a lot of the characters he's voiced over the years have in common is that they were considered cool, handsome, or popular. Not just for fans, but within the canon of their stories! So...what does that mean? What does that say about how we should see Ryuji?

I think players are supposed to expect that he will fall into one of those categories too, and then be surprised to find that it's not the case—that he's been isolated and made bitter and resigned by what happened to him the year before.

Speaking of his tone, I think it's very telling that Ryuji actually forgets to keep up the delinquent act a lot in the original JP audio, which unfortunately doesn't really carry over in the ENG translation. The delivery of his JP lines sounds a bit more subdued in comparison too—yeah he's got a lot of energy and is very hotheaded, but when he gets to talking about serious shit, he sounds a lot more regretful and melancholy as opposed to the EN delivery which depicts him as more resentful and outwardly angry. I think before Shit Went Down, he probably had the Coolguy vibe. Still a bit of a rowdy idiot and a showoff, but I think he probably came across to most people as a very friendly, sincere, and popular guy.

So yeah, the girls probably were all over him, at least for a short while.

#persona 5 #ryuji sakamoto #character analysis #LONGASS POST SORRY #I JUST REALLY LIKE HIM AND WANTED TO THINK MY THOUGHTS FOR A WHILE #pita.txt

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