#sup Riley?

[archiewantsheetmetal]

Hi! :)

hi bab!!!!y!!!!!

she says hi

[elderyautjavegeta]

Rises from the dead like Jesus himself on this site, reblogs a few Croc pictures, and then disappears again.

[chaoscreaturewrites]

Call of duty, fluff, meeting, Simon Ghost Riley

Hello Lt

Summary:When her usually foul mouthed brother, a new cadet, talks to her so politely in their weekly call she gets worried and goes to see him.While searching for him on base she comes across a Lt who shows her around.Her brother is not thrilled to see her and even more so when he sees how much his grumpy Lt is being so kind to her.

WC:1.8k

Her brother is all the family she has left, they were never super close but now it's just them so they make efforts to stay in touch.

So now that her brother's gone and joined the military they have settled for a weekly call instead of weekly meal together. This usually just consists of taking turns bitching about their week or going on some odd tangent and running out of time.

Her brother's always been foul mouthed, in fact she is too. Her parents valued them having good morals and actions over not saying a few words. So when they talk together you'd think you're overhearing sailors.

So today when she calls with her brother and isn't greeted with a ‘sup bitch’ she worries. The whole call she's pacing her apartment mind reeling, waiting for his normal speech pattern to appear but nada, nothing. Something is wrong, she knew the military would change him but not this quick and if anything she expected some more creative swears to pop up, not for them all to disappear.

So the next weekend she takes the long drive up to see him. This requires face to face confrontation, gotta check and make sure he's still him, plus a long drive into that scenic area sounds nice.

Didn't take too much work to get a day pass for a visit and unlike other government facilities she wasn't on hold for hours.

The drive is nice, she blasts some music and enjoys her break from work and society. After a certain point once she breaks off onto a smaller highway she barely sees any other cars, it's rare to encounter peaceful moments like this so she tries to take it all in.

She arrives and pulls up to the gate house where 2 men in full gear check her car, one with a dog and another with a mirror that looks at the undercarriage. They don't alarm her, she just wishes it wasn't against the rules to pet military dogs. Next is her, she's directed to get out of the car and does, the dog sniffs her and a woman comes out of the guard house and pats her down, she's all clean. After she hands over her ID, signs the log in book, a guest badge,and is given a run down of the rules to follow on base along with a map.

The gate opens and she drives in following the map to the auxiliary parking lot. As she looks at the map to find out where to go she realizes she doesn't know where her brother is or would be.

She just shrugs and accepts that today she'll be getting in all her steps, including the ones she slacked on this month, they will all be gotten today. Luckily it's autumn and not blindingly hot or freezing cold.

First she just needs to get to the main building and away from the auxiliary parking lot Siberia, that alone takes a while. She passes by a few stern looking men whom she knows better than to ask for directions.

Once in the main building so she walks along reading the names of the offices, luckily everything is labeled here. Most of them don't seem like they could help direct her to her brother until she comes across ‘Instructors Offices’ that sounds like the right place.

She heads in and is disappointed, instead of finding some secretary who could help her, she finds more doors. This won't work. She can't go knock on some Officers door. Just as shes about to leave she hears a door open and turns to find a tall imposing man who looks just as surprised to see her.

“ Are you lost ?”

“Yes”

No point dancing around it, she may be in the right area but other than that she is lost. She just hopes this man will help and won't be too bothered by it.

He steps closer, looking her over from head to toe. It's a bit unnerving being studied and assessed by the tall man with a skull mask. She's no longer sure she will receive help, now it looks more like he'll throw her out.

“ where are you trying to get”

“I'm trying to find my brother, cadet Harris”

“We got quite a few Harris's”

“ Robert Harris”

“ He's out cutting the lawn”

“ oh okay… this was kinda a stupid idea anyways, ill just go”

“ No, no you came all the way out here for a reason, ill take you to see him”

“ Oh, no it's okay I don't want to take up your time sir”

“ it's Lt and its time for me to check on him anyways”

He holds the door for her and she awkwardly walks under his arm and through the door. His pace is quick and she does her best to keep alongside the man, but about 2 minutes in and he slows down making it easier on her thankfully.

“ So what's your mission?”

“ Oh well, my brothers all I got and something seems off on our last call and I came to check on him”

“ Off?”

“ yeah, he suddenly had manners and didn't curse once”

“ And this concerned you, that he treated you like a gentleman ?”

“ yeah it's a big shift in his personality”

They have now made it to the lawn and she blinks a few times unsure she's seeing this right. But he's out on the lawn in full gear cutting the grass with scissors with a dustpan and trash bag. And when he catches sight of the Lt he gets up instantly doing jumping jacks while singing some song in his pitchy, can't carry a tune voice.

“ This is all you're doing isn't it ?”

“ Yes”

“ impressive”

“I'm also responsible for his change in behavior, once im done with them all my men become gentlemen”

“Does that make you one too?”

“ absolutely”

“ truly a rare and dying breed”

[They are interrupted]

“ Sis, is that you?”

Her brother has finally noticed she is here and chatting with his Lt. The guys who never says extra words to anybody is now conversing with his sister, this is a head fuck and he can't do a thing about it.

“ Permission to approach Lt”

“ Granted”

He leaves the scissors behind and goes right up to her, he's about to speak but family squabbles shouldn't happen in front of the Lt. He grabs her should to direct her away but as soon as he touches her the Lts voice rings out.

“ Cadet manners”

Instantly his hand retracts and using a forced smile he politely ushers her down the path but he can feel the Lts eyes on him buring into his back.

“ Why are you here?”

“ I came to check on you and it was a nice drive, needed a break”

“ you can't just-”

“ obviously I can since I was allowed on base”

“ okay yeah but im good, you cant just come out here all the time”

“ I get it okay, you finally got away but don't think some distance will stop me from caring, we're all we got, so shut up jackoff and look like your a Lil bit glad to see me”

Simon understands why they stepped away, wanting space to converse privately, he respects that and turns to inspect the grass. But with his training he can't exactly ignore nearby sounds. He can't make out the low hushed sounds of his cadet but her voice rings clear, she wasn't trying to hide and the harsh pronunciation on ‘jackoff’ seemed purposefully ment for his ears too.

He'd only ever heard their conversations one-sided before from his formerly foul mouthed cadet but now he sees it wasn't just the cadet. They both speak like sailors.

This interaction has been so short yet he's fascinated by her. Bold, foul mouthed, playful, caring, determined, what a woman. He's seen other female visitors on base and they usually all fawn over Officers and bat their lashes asking anyone they see for directions acting like helpless lost things. He detests them and completely ignores them when they cross his path. She's the opposite, boldly trying to navigate base herself and even when she admitted she was lost, even when she was faced with me, she didn't cower and her voice never wavered.

The sound of a smack pulls his attention away from the grass and he gets to witness the beautiful sight of her dragging his cadet back into the yard by his helmet strap. She shoves him back to his knees and toes the scissors back to him. She huffs walking back to the walkway, slightly shaking her head with disapproval.

“How long has he been out here?”

“ 0400”

…

“4 am”

“And how much longer does he have?”

“Until its done”

“Perfect, should take a few more days”

“You approve?”

“he confessed and I completely approve, carry on shaping my brother”

She pulls the map out of her back pocket trying to find where she is so she can get back to the Siberia parking lot. As it turns out this place has a lot of big yards and she was also given a map with the least amount of details possible, leading to an annoyed huff and a sneeze from the grass clippings.

“Bless you”

Only seconds after she sneezed shes being handed a pack of tissues, the efficiency of this man and the pockets, he must have a tiny inventory of everything. Maybe he has snacks, she is very much regretting not stopping and getting some on the drive.

“Thank you, you really are prepared for everything aren't ya”

“ of course”

She debates taking the risk but decides against it, she's already interrupted him and taken up this man's time, she can't ask for snacks.

The silently appearance of a shadow snaps her out of her thoughts and she looks up to find the Lt standing just behind her shoulder looking down at her map. It's unnerving how such a large man can move so silently without notice, is that a trained skill or something he's always had?

He holds up his arm, strategically over her map and a bit overdramatically checking his watch. A deep ‘hmmm’ sound rumbles through his chest behind her.

“ it's time for lunch”

With that stated he steps away from her and faces himself on the path towards the mess hall. He pivots to look at her noting the mild confusion with a dash of amusement written on her features.

“ Well, are you coming?”

“ Are you inviting me to lunch Lt?”

“ Yes, I am”

“ I accept”

She marches up next to him and off they go leaving her brother behind.She's not excited about the prospects of a military lunch but the unusual company makes this a much more enticing than the food itself.

[Cut to brother]

Wait, what the fuck, what is My Lt doing? Why is he so close to her? Is this him flirting? Wait, no, is it working? No, no ,no please, no. I'll never live this down. Please just be walking her out, if they are seen together this will spread like wildfire and eventually everyone will know it's my sister with the Lt.

Tag list

@danielle143

[sexydoffyman]

Hi! So this is my first time requesting,, I have COD brain rot and I had this idea I thought you might like.

Forced proximity with Simon ghost Riley x male reader :D!!

If it’s spicy I’d absolutely love hair pulling and soft praise,, reader being bottom please! I don’t mind if it’s smut or not tho 🫶

IN THE TRUNK

navigation

genre: smut

A/N: Sup. I did the praise thing, but I couldn't find a way to add the hair-pulling. Enjoy! 🦆

You guys were on a mission together. Everything went well until it didn't. One of the soldiers got wounded and wasn't able to run. And with Ghost in charge of the mission, the rule "No man left behind" was never forgotten.

Ghost picked the wounded soldier up, but by that time, the enemy soldiers had caught up. Everyone scattered. Soon, there was no other option than to abort the mission.

Ghost commanded the team to run to the trucks that were hidden in a nearby forest. He threw the soldier to someone else and started looking for you. Hoping you were left unharmed.

He only met you a couple of days ago, but you caught his eye. You were an important asset to the team. You were smaller, so you could sneak around better and fit through places no one else could. You were also an amazing strategist and interrogator.

And for some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off you.

The way your smaller, flexible body moved when you dodged knife throws. The way you looked at him when everything was going exactly how it was supposed to go. The way you laid your head on his shoulder when you were exhausted.

You quickly found yourself messing with his pheromones. He felt like he needed to have you in his grasp and he didn't understand why. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to taste you. He wanted to make sure you are alright.

Your small size also resulted in you being a little slower than the others. He was aware of that, so he wasn't surprised when you had trouble catching up with the rest of the team.

He ran to you and picked you up bridal style. He ran fast even when carrying you. You being smaller helped him a lot since you were also lighter. He ran with you, seeing the last truck waiting for him and anyone else.

A few soldiers jumped into the car, and Ghost signaled the driver to start moving. The truck slowly took off as Ghost caught up with it, opening the trunk and jumping in it with you in his arms.

You closed the trunk from the inside. Ghost looked at you while gasping for air. You gave him a sweet smile knowing that the whole team is safe. "That damn smile." He thought. That damn smile that messed with him so much.

He squeezed into a slightly larger part of the trunk. You both look at each other awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. Ghost had his leg in front of him, managing to hide his erection. He would be really embarrassed if you caught him thinking like that about you.

The truck ran over a rather large speed bump. You were almost thrown at Ghost ending in your back smacked against his abs. You ended up being pushed into his lap by the way the truck moved.

There, you felt it. You felt the bulge in Ghost's pants. He wanted to get you off him to avoid being embarrassed even more. Instead, he grabbed your waist and pushed you closer to him. He knew the truck would still be moving rather roughly, and he didn't want you to get injured.

When the ride calmed down again you looked at him. "Don't talk about it." He almost barked out. "Being distracted like this won't do you any good in the field, sir." "Would you want me to help you out?"

He was blushing hard under his mask. "Sergeant, I am in no way attracted to you." He said defensively. "Then why are still holding me?" You questioned. He would think that you were teasing him, but your innocent eyes made him realize that you were genuine.

He sighed "Pants down, sergeant!" He commanded. "You're lucky these trunks are soundproof." He muttered against your neck. You slipped your pants down to your thighs he followed your movements.

"You sure you can take this?" He asked, grabbing your hips with the hand that was over you. "Yes, sir!" You answered and adjusted your body so he could slide his other arm under you and push you closer to his chest.

He didn't wait a second when he got an agreement out of you and thrusted his dick straight into your ass. You gave out a little whimper. He grabbed your chin to look away from him. You wondered why he did that only to feel his lips on your neck.

He took off his mask to kiss you.

Your stomach filled with butterflies as he started thrusting into you roughly. With each thrust, you let out a whimper. He stretched you out so good. "Good boy... keep... making those sounds." He stuttered struggling.

He didn't know it would feel so good. He just had to make sure you knew how happy he was. "You are such a good boy for me sergeant." "You feel so good." He was bruising your neck as he sucked on the skin.

He started hitting your prostate head-on which made you switch from whimpering to moaning. That made him go feral. He could feel himself getting close to seeing stars. He thrusted last time into you and filled you with his cum.

He didn't want to leave you unfinished, since you did so good. He grabbed your dick jerking it off until you came into his hand.

You both panted trying to catch your breaths. "Sergeant!" "Yes, sir?" "Just letting you know if I'm ever distracted again, I'll go straight to you."

You chuckled knowing that you signed up for a hell of a ride.

[iceychronicles]

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CLASSIFIED DOCUMENTATION:

START RECORDING

ALL PARTIES HAVE BEEN KIDNAPPED AGAINST THE ORGINIZATION CONSENTED TO BE SUBJECTS TO A "ROLEPLAY" BLOG BUILT BY ANDREA NGUYEN, CALL SIGN "ICICLE". ALL PARTIES (JOHN PRICE, SIMON RILEY, JOHN "JOHNNY" MACTAVISH AND KYLE GARRICK, OR PRICE, GHOST, SOAP AND GAZ AS THEIR CALL SIGNS) HAVE FORCED WAS WILLING TO BE PARTICIPANTS TO MISS NGUYEN'S BLOG, AND WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE.

help u-

END RECORDING

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HELLO! 🩵🩵🩵

My name is Andrea, but you can go by my call sign which is Icicle, and I am the sergeant at the coveted Taskforce 141! And I can't wait to bring you all the latest gossip on what happens when we're not busy shooting off enemies and saving the world from total damnation.

So anyways, I am 29 and used to live in Seattle, Washington to Vietnamese parents (we moved since I was two.) I enrolled in the military at 18 and was given my SAS regiment, becoming the youngest to do so!

But I wanted to do more, I wanted to prove to myself that I can be much more than just a decorated soldier. That I, and many other women before me can prove that we're just as much a force to be reckoned with than our fellow men.

So imagine my surprise when I got the call, (thanks to the amazing Laswell) to have the opportunity to be sergeant of the coveted Taskforce 141. One of the best taskforce there is, led by Captain John Price and his three subordinates. Lieutenant Ghost, and the two sergeants, Sergeant Gaz and Soap. To tell you the truth I was unsure of myself, but I didn't back down, and I didn't let fear take me over.

So here I am! Eight years strong and still with my head held high. But I wanted to do something fun, a little snippet of our day to day lives when we're not killing soldiers or having to deal with government officials with their million dollar crisp suits.

So I made this! With both Kyle and Johnny's help (they were there since Tumblr was born y'know), we created iceychronicles! I'm the host of this, asking questions and showing off some of the day to day lives of what we're doing, but one of the boys might drop in and also pop a couple questions here and there!

(And to be completely honest, both John and Simon needed to let loose, y'know? Get the jitters out.)

[CONNECTION TO PRICE_TEST1 FAILED]

So yeah! I look forward to having you all my little icey friends drop in, ask some questions or overall go 'feral' (as the kids say) to our shenanigans, and I'll catch you all in another winter! 🩵☃️❄️

BYE FOR NOW!

music cozy corner

🩵 music i'm listening to:

🎵 anthems for a seventeen year-old girl

👩🏻‍🎤 yeule

[readgoods]

WRONG

Call of duty AU “Elmwood”

Simon Riley(Ghost)/reader

You don't give a shit about the glimmering sunset or the scent of the markets - the combination of spice and fish and sweat glistening in the waning light is for tourists, or those who can afford it. You're neither, carrying your heavy baskets on your way back to your master's manor. Master Price. He's a lord, you think. A lord of what? You're not sure - as far as you know, it's an honorary title. Not that it matters to you. The specifics of your betters weren’t any of your concern, really.

It was for the best. You're too busy. Always too busy, washing and ironing and folding and washing and ironing and folding. It's cyclical. Wearing. Honest.

That was for the best too. And most importantly, lets you work alone most of the time, chatting only with the other lesser maid, who is blessedly mute. No small talk for you, no incessant chattering, no over analyzing or stressing about the nuances or tone or any of those other secret things everyone else seems to understand so natively. But you don't. Oh, gods, you don't. You wish you did. Or do you? Would it be any better? Would you be able to do what you do, if you were like them? Continual, repeating routine, day after day, week after week.

Year after year.

Reliable.

Unseen.

Quiet, like the mute maid.

You hadn’t even seen the Master himself for a good while - always off in one skirmish or an another, tending to the kingdom’s security.

Best you don’t know much about that either.

Sometimes he and his men come back, their clothing soiled in blood and muck and goodness knows what.

You don’t ask. Best that way.

You just clean. Clean until your little servant hands go soft and wrinkly and beads sweat gather at your brow. You’re not like them, but you’re doing your part.

And silently, you’re proud of that.

There’s a fuss in the house. There shouldn’t be. Why is there? Doesn’t matter. You stay out of the way, the finer servants fussing at their things. Terrible.

“And the new Lord- have you seen his mask?”

There’s guests, you hear. An another lord, and his retinue. To stay for some time.

“They say he’s disfigured, in the war.”

That does pique your interest. Not because you care about the gossip or about this stranger’s face- but because you wonder if it’s more work for you. A disruptive influence to the steady routine you’re accustomed to.

For the first time in years, you take mental stock of the new faces in the servants quarters. Only a few personal servants. No basic staff, not like you. The gossip mill continues.

“Truly? His behavior is hardly better than his countenance. Glowering. And be wary- he’s too quiet.”

That means disruption. More work. You sigh.

You keep working, folding. Folding. Folding. You fold late into the night, until the sounds of merriment upstairs die down and then some. You prefer it this way. The quietness.

It’s nearing 3am when you finally brave the kitchen- freezing in place, as you see a broad figure of a man, hunched over the counter. His breathing steady, expanding his chest with slow breaths, straining the seams of the dark blue silk vest.

It’s most improper. Not only is he not wearing his coat, but he’s clearly drunk - and despite seeing plain he’s no servant, you bristle. This is wrong. Improper. They’re free to party all night long upstairs if they want, but this space belongs to the servants.

It’s wrong. He doesn’t belong.

He’s wrong.

If master Price knew, surely he wouldn’t approve. Surely? Right.

Besides, you need something to sup on. Holding your breath and moving softly, you shuffle to the cupboards, taking out the plate the cook left for you. A sausage, a piece of cheese and a few slices of bread. Wonderful woman, not to take your aversions personally.

Only this time, there’s a slight clink as you take the plate, and the man by the counter snaps awake, his dark eyes wild in the dark until they focus in on you as if looking through you, into your soul directly rather than your corporeal body. You remain in place, hands slightly twitching as you hold on to the plate.

The mask.

It’s a skull.

Somehow, that makes it easier for you. As if he’s inhuman, his eyes don’t count. Like a creature silhouetted in the dark. The twitching stops. You remember what the servants capped him. Lord Ghost - not his name, of course. But you could see why, with the dark figure and white skull in the dark.

An apparition. A spectre.

He wavers first, drunkenly defocusing his eyes as his movements faltered. Trying to get up, his limbs not co-operating. A ghoul struggling to manouver his body, or like one of those puppets on strings. The plate finds itself on the table, your body supporting his. His broad frame too heavy, not at all behaving like the heavy sacks of laundry you were familiar with.

Limbs.

Smooth fabric too good for you.

The floor, pinned under a lord you don’t know. An intruder. A drunk.

[the-best-walker]

Sup Hash Browns

How was your trip to California with Aunt Jackie, Logan, and Riley? :)

helloo,

the trip was really good, actually. how are you doing?

[iblameashley]

Shattered

Civilian | Male | Gay

2,847 words Content: Minor warning for mention of panic attack. Mention of PTSD, Anger, Angst.

Follow up to I'm punny and you know it.

Simon ’Ghost’ Riley | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

You walk into a war zone of Simon's making. Well, you actually kicked in a door to do it, but that's not the point. The man is not OK, and while you may not be able to help him, you can clean up the mess.

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

It hadn't taken you very long to figure out 'Si' was in the military. Truth be told, you suspected it from the first time you met at the coffee shop. It was during your last appointment with him that it was confirmed. He was wearing a very tight tee and you could make out the outline of dog-tags as the cotton shirt hugged their form. Being respectful of his privacy, however, you said nothing.

You had six appointments under your belt with him over the course of four months. It was during this appointment that he told you he had a 'trip' coming up, and wasn't sure how long it was going to take. You nodded and said you understood. Simon also took the time to explain that the location was 'remote' and he likely wouldn't have much cell reception. “Well...” You pondered, “When you do have service, and if you're free, let me know and I'll send you a joke or a meme.” You offered.

His eyes seemed to soften at the offer, and you could swear there was a smile under his mask. He nodded firmly in agreement, and with that, you had a new contract with him while he was away.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + ***

The first two week were silent, and you went about both your day jobs and your side-gig as a friend-for-hire. You toiled away at paperwork and emails until your eyes burned red from dryness. Late nights turned into early mornings and you periodically checked your phone for a hint of life from Si.

It was nearly half way through week three when your phone dinged at an ungodly hour. You rolled over in bed and were blinded by the light from the screen. “Fuck.” You groan, shutting your eyes quickly. It was from Si.

SI: Have about three hours before I have to go back to work. I was promised jokes and memes.

“Fucking Christ, Si.” You huffed. “Gotta pull a joke out of my ass at..” You glanced at the clock in the upper corner of this cornea-destroying device. “four-forty-seven.”

You head flopped back on the pillow with a 'whump' and you clutched the phone at your chest. You had promised to do this for him, and he was on his 'trip'. It wasn't his fault you forgot time zones existed. So you pursed your lips and thought of a joke through the fogginess of your sleepy mind.

You: Why were the middle ages called the Dark Ages? You: Because there were too many Knights. SI: That's fucking terrible. You: You're welcome.

And that was the start of your on-again, off-again communication with Si as he was on his 'trip.'

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

Six weeks in, you got another message from him. This time is was at least at a reasonable hour. The sun had cast the sky bright reds and pinks as it set, and you had been sitting on the balcony of your flat enjoying the cool breeze and downtime. Your workload had shifted and you had more free time. On top of that, one of your Friental clients was on vacation, so you felt like you could really relax.

The dinging and buzzing from your phone caught your attention. It was Si, again.

Si: Hit me. You: Coffee has a really rough time in my house... You: It gets mugged every day. Si: Hah.

Then another message the day after.

Si: Gotta make it quick, you around?

You were. You always were.

You: What did the socks say to the pants? You: Sup, britches. Si: Where the fuck do you get these?

A part of you pictured him laughing boisterously at your bad jokes, but deep down you knew that wasn't the case. He might huff out a low 'hah,' but Si, as far as you knew, was not a loud laughter. It would betray his broody lone-wolf persona. Still, you had a fond memory of the first time you did get a response from him. The light shove of his boot against your back.

And now that you thought about it, he broke the rules. No touching. You wondered if he had realized as well. You shook your head. No matter, the rules were really there for you.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

It was just over two months in when you got a notification from the app that 'Si' had requested another appointment. He had access to your calendar, so you opened it up and clicked accept. He had requested a visit from you in four days.

“Must be back home,” You said to yourself. There was a stupid smile plastered over your face. Si might be a big, quiet, moping tank of a man, but he was easy to handle. You knew what was expected with him, and he was fine with letting you babble at length about any and everything that crossed your mind. He never seemed annoyed or frustrated about your endless chatter. He would simply sit there and look at you with those unassuming brown eyes. He'd nod and grunt and give one word answers every once in a while, to remind you he really was listening. If anything, he took the pressure off you, allowing you to be yourself.

*** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + *** ++ *** + **

You were not prepared for what you would find when you arrived at his flat. You stood at the door and knocked. No answer. You looked around the dimly lit hallway of the building and hummed to yourself anxiously.

'Maybe he forgot?' You mused. You foot tapped impatiently on the floor, and you kept shifting your weight from hip to hip. 'No. He wouldn't forget.' You reminded yourself. He was too structured for that. So you knocked again, harder. Still no answer. You knocked so hard the third time you sent spikes of pain up your knuckles.

“Si!” you yelled. “Are you home?” Your voice was raspy and filled with concern.

There was no response, but you did hear movement. Now your heart jumped to your throat. Was he hurt? Could he not respond for some reason? You mind flooded with the worst-case scenarios and you began to panic. Who do you call? Police? Maybe a neighbour would have a number for maintenance or the landlord. Your head shot back and forth, up one end of the hallway and down the other. You stared at the door, and finally your body reacted.

You hand reached for the doorknob and gave it a twist. To your surprise, it wasn't locked, which was unusual in itself. You couldn't imagine Si as comfortable enough to leave the door unlatched. But as you pushed it open, it caught on the chain of the upper lock and the door can to an abrupt halt. “Si?” you called in.

There was a grumbling, but no real response. “Fuck it.” You blurted out. You took a step back, sucked in a deep breath and aimed at the door. In one sharp movement, your foot connected with the door and snapped the chain from the frame. The swung open and crashed into the wall with a loud thud. You entered the flat timidly, and closed the door behind you.

Sitting at the kitchen table was Si, head in his hands and starting at the table, hunched over in a heap. You forgot how big this man was, even in this state. He was mask-less. You walked in and averted your gaze, you searched the flat frantically for his mask. It was then that you took in the disastrous state of the flat. There was garbage lying all over the place, dirty and broken dishes and even some furniture overturned and stung along the floor. Si had been home for a bit longer than you had assume, and it was not a good homecoming.

You located his mask frantically flung over the couch and you snatched it up quickly. You walked over to Si and shoved the mask under his face. “Put it on.” You remarked. “Please?” Your eyes were locked on the ceiling. He even managed to stain that.

You felt him pull the mask from your hand by the strap and you waited a few seconds before you dared to peek. He was masked, now.

Simon's face – well, his brows and eyes – were red and puffy, but he hadn't appeared to have been crying. His hair was a complete mess and his bloodshot eyes glared at you with emptiness, like he hadn't actually accepted you were here. “Better?” He asked in the most deadpanned tone you'd had heard from him.

“You look like shit, Si.” You declared before rubbing at the bridge of your nose. “Are you OK?” you muttered, knowing you were about to get the most useless of responses.

“No. Clearly, not.” he commented.

You took another look around the flat and noted all the work that had to be done. You gave an apathetic shrug and tip-toed over to the hallway closet to retrieve cleaning supplies. Carefully manoeuvring around the broken glass and ceramic that littered the floor like a mine-field. Something had set him off, an anxiety or panic attack maybe? PTSD? Didn't really matter to you, he couldn't stay like this. And since he wasn't going to offer up his feeling – his heart – for you one a plate, not that he had any left, you figured you could at least clean his home.

You started with the floors; sweeping up the fragments and remains of glassware and plates . You swept around his feet and took a bit of comfort that he was still wearing his boots. Under the table, around the fridge, and you double checked the base boards around the counter until you had a pile of his shattered property in a mound in his kitchen. Carefully you swept it into the dust-pan and placed it in a refuse bag before tossing it in one of his bins.

“What are you doing?” Simon finally remarked.

“Seems like you had a rough trip.” You declared. “I'm guessing you don't want to talk about, and that's fine. Its in our rules, after all.” You turned and beamed him a warm smile.

“You really care about my stupid rules at a time like this?” His voice was low and laced with annoyance and confusion.

“Its... kind of the foundation of our relationship, no?” You laughed. You balanced your chin on your hands, which were tenderly placed on the tip of the broom, and you wobbled it back and forth. “Something happened, and I'm not going to ask. But!” You explained. “I am going to get this place back in order because you don't live like this, and I'm not going to let you start. Isn't that what friends are for?” You shot him a wink.

“I pay you to be my friend.” The words carried an air of embarrassment and shame. Your heart ached at the sound.

You let out a frustrated breath and put the broom to the side. You turned your attention to the remaining dishes in the sink. The water rushed into the basin, splashing and bubbling as it embraced the dirty plated and utensils.

You reached into the got water and began scrubbing. The water sloshing and burbling under the movement of your hands. “I'd do it for free.” You finally admitted. You couldn't turn to look at him at first. The stack of wet, but clean dishes began to pile up in the other basin, and you could hear your heart in your ears. Feel your pulse beating, drumming, in every vein and artery.

“What?” He finally asked.

“I'd be your friend for free.” You nodded sharply at the wall in front of you. You bit at your lower lip, afraid you were breaking the rules of your contract. 'Was this too much? Too far?' you asked yourself as the silent moment moved forward.

“...why?” Simon finally choked out.

Your hands fell back into the sink, and your grip on the cutlery loosened. Your head dropped as you thought about your answer, knowing you were treading on thin ice. At least, you thought you were.

You cocked your head to the side to look at him. He was sitting at the table still, staring into the empty space between you two. His jaw worked tightly under his jaw as he ground at his teeth. You wondered if you had pissed him off, truly pissed him off.

“I... like you?” You whispered.

He snorted and shook his head. “That's the best fuckin' joke you've told yet, mate.”

You didn't really know how to respond to him. He was finally painting a picture of his self worth for you to view, and did it in so few words. Your heart sank deep into your belly as it dawn on you just how isolated his really must have been. Must be. “I mean it, Si. I'd be happy to just be your friend.”

His head dropped back down to the table. You finished the last of the forks and plopped them into the clean basin, dried your hands and pulled out your phone.

You opened up your messages and began typing.

You: What kind of music do windmills like? You: They're Metal fans.

His phone buzzed across the table and a moment later there was a gruff, hoarse chuckle. “Go fuck yourself.” He mumbled.

You: Why do Ghosts love elevators? You: Because they lift their spirits.

“Fuckin' hell.” He shook his head back and forth on the table. “I'm trying to be miserable here, can you fuck off?” You smiled at the disingenuous tone of his remark.

“Can't do it.” You shook your head and took a seat at the table.

“I won't push you to tell me whats going on, but...” You looked around at all the work still left to be done. “Can you give me something? Something to explain this?” You said waving your hands around the flat.

Simon just stared at you blankly.

“Mission go wrong?” You asked. Your words pushing at a boundary you weren't sure you had the right to touch.

His eyes widened as he took in the words that wormed their way to his brain.

“Mission? I was on a-”

You held up a hand and cut him off. Your heart was hurting at seeing this man in such a state. You didn't pity him by any means, but you wanted to reach out and let him know he could unload his burdens on you, even just a little.

“Dont.” You said curtly. “I've seen your tags.” Your fingers tapped at the table.

Simon rubbed at his eyes and let out a growl. He was most definitely annoyed with your line of questioning, but he also lacked the energy to put up a fight. He had spent the last several days having a tantrum, raging and destroying the remnants of his non-military life and wishing to sink the last of his soul into his persona. A persona he hadn't told you about.

But here you sat, staring at him with caring, concerned eyes and he couldn't understand why. He had never given you anything from this arrangement, it was entirely selfish on his part. But here you sat, your lips pursed and your fingers anxiously tapping the table.

“I failed.” He choked out. The words biting at his throat as his admission jumped from his lips. “I failed, and I got reprimanded.”

You nodded your head delicately. “Did you lose someone?” You asked.

Simon shook his head, but said nothing.

“Then it wasn't a complete failure, was it?” A smiled pulled at the corner of your lips.

Simon' hands fell to the table and he looked at you with shock. His masked puffed in and out as he breathed heavily into it.

“That's not the point.” He grunted.

You shrugged hard and stared at him. “Well... it is to me.” You fired back, a little more confrontational than you had intended. “You didn't lose anyone, and you came back home. Maybe its not a mission success, but its not a failure.”

Simon felt a crack in his armour at your comment. Like you had aimed perfectly at his heart and fired. It didn't shatter, he was too strong for that, but the impact of your words did damage. Damage he couldn't have prepared himself for. Someone cared that he came back. No one cared if he came back. He furrowed his brow, angry that your shot at him landed, but he couldn't bring himself to be truly mad at you. A piece of him lit up inside.

“Will you stay for dinner?” He finally asked.

You looked around at the kitchen and the few remaining dishes.

“We can order take away,” you chuckled. “My treat.”

Simon looked at you.

“My treat.” You reaffirmed.

Simon just nodded.

[kirbys-rotomblr-hub]

sup

mod kirby here. she/her pronouns. i'm making this blog to compile all of my other blogs so people can follow em. i'll try to update this pinned post as much as possible and also reblog other stuff if i think it's funny

Blog list: (in rough order of current activity)

@real-team-luster - Baby's first rotomblr blog <3 Darrin Scintiller, Scummy Kalosian gem merchant who was exposed for terrible crimes and went on the run, now stuck in ancient Lumiose and going on a journey of redemption and self-discovery.

@paldeasnemesis - Jayden/Nemesis, asshole Paldean who loves Shadow the Sandslash (2005) and bullying minors who then bully him back.

@lazuli-larimar - Larimar, Jayden's liquid sunshine roommate slash coworker, and Sylvia, one of Larimar's friends. She is frighteningly good at battling.

@haunting-narrative - Adrianne, a scientist who started seeing patterns in the multiverse and got real existential about it. Fair warning, this blog delves into meta subjects and nihilism a lot more than any of my others!

@boombangheyyourang - Nitro, an Eleuxio from a dimension where humans don't exist. She's spunky, quick to anger, and also occasionally blows up. That's not a metaphor, I mean she literally blows up.

@dara-does-everything - Dara, an alternate universe "good" version of Darrin who is definitely not old enough to be using this website responsibly. Also has a crush on Sidon lmao. Currently going through a pining arc, aka "Water Under the Bridge"

@team-luster-is-unethical - Glissandra, Darrin's ex-wife who also wrote his expose piece. She's kind of full of herself. Also dating Zygarde.

@pkmnmastercrimson - Red/Blue and various other game protagonists. This one got exhausting to write after a while, but I do enjoy these goofballs a lot and plan to return to them eventually. @megalo-biology - Ryn/Rynclaire, Ultra Megapololis's top natural researcher! Still really enjoy the concept for this blog and it's probably the most likely of these blogs to return from hiatus someday.

@rileyfrombulle - Riley, character from a fanregion I made called Bulle, with a complicated history.

@area-zero-enthusiast - Maddie, evil S/V protagonist who was marginally involved with Darrin's story. Owns way too many legendaries for her own good. [Shelved]

Darrin, Glissandra, Maddie, Jayden, and Larimar all coexist in a shared universe called the Darrinverse (I wonder who it's focused on? /s) Ultra Beasts do not exist in this world, and there are various other differences that are totally slipping my mind right now. The rest are either chilling in unrelated worlds or explicitly part of different worlds, i.e Dara.

The Darrinverse is primarily based off Pokemon X, also incorporating elements from S/V, Legends Z-A, Arceus, and Sun and Moon.

[artificialcorby]

× Christmas Eve ×

He had thought about this day so many times. Had imagined walking up to the familiar green door of his parents' house, heels clicking on the stone path towards it. Simon following right behind.

In his dreams they had matching scarves. He doesn't even know why. In some of his dreams they held hands after he rang the door, waiting for it to open.

In a few dreams he was greeted with a smile. As if there was nothing about bringing along another man, holding his hand, entering the house he grew up in. A home to both of them now.

But once or twice he dreamt how the face of his mother froze. As did his own.

"This is Simon. He is-...

"We're...."

He'd struggle for words while his mother's expression would fall, turning into a mask of utter disgust. Before she'd slam the door into his face and he could hear her crying.

This is usually the moment he wakes. Sometimes covered in sweat. Sometimes with just a single wet stain on his pillow, where his tears dropped from his face onto the fabric.

~

The house is decorated. But not overly. There's a wreath at the door, just like every year for as long as he can remember, a small tree with lights in the front yard, the Christmas tree visible in the window facing the street, more lights in the windows. The entire place radiates warmth, despite the light drizzle and the wind outside.

The walk up to the door has never felt so long. Never felt so heavy. His heart is pounding in his chest. His palms are sweaty. Johnny has a key, but rings the bell anyway, letting go of Simon’s hand when he does.

~

“They don’t know….” Soap said out of nowhere after several minutes of driving in silence.

“What do you mean?” Ghost inquired, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Me parents. I haven’t told them.” Johnny’s eyes were cast down to his hands in his lap.

Ghost didn’t need any more words of explanation. He understood. They never talked about it before, but he figured that Johnny wasn’t out to his parents yet.

Reaching over, Simon took the other’s hand into his, brought it up to scarred lips, placed gentle kisses on knuckles.

“Did you plan to tell them today?” he then asked softly.

“I don’t know.” Soap replied.

Did he? A part of him wanted to. A part of him tried to over the past few weeks. But he never found the right time. And he could never picture a positive outcome. Not the way they kept asking him about a potential girlfriend or when he wanted to start a family.

~

A small woman in her late 50s or perhaps early 60s with rosy cheeks opens the door, beaming at Johnny, holding out her arms to cup his face with her hands. And Johnny smiles. Smiles like Ghost has never seen him smile before. The woman's voice is loud, high pitched, but full of joy when she greets her son, gushing over him before he even gets to set foot into the house. Johnny still just smiles patiently, leaning in when his mother stands on her toes to squish and kiss his face as if he's just eight years old.

"Maw, that's Lieutenant Simon Riley." he motions at Ghost when they finally make it inside. "A telt ye aboot 'im."

The woman doesn’t lose her smile. But she keeps her distance when she greets Simon. Maybe it’s because Johnny asked them in advance to tone it down a little. Maybe it’s because he introduced him as his commanding officer. Or it’s because of something else entirely. The scars maybe? The reasons remain unclear.

“Iain, haud fashin’ yersel’ wi’ the fucken’ tree and git yer arse o’er here. Oor laddie’s hame.” she suddenly yells, turning her head towards the living room door.

“Johnny?” sounds a male voice from the living room. “Were ye meddlin’ wi’ the lights last year? They fucken’ pooched!”

“Naw, Ah didnae touch ‘em. Ye did, as aye.” Johnny responds exasperated, rolling his eyes and giving Simon an apologetic look.

“We got a guest.” his mother reminds. And his father calls from the living room. “Ah’m unner the bloody tree Isi, Ah cannae sup hands richt noo.”

Now it’s Johnny who raises his voice. “Haw, will ye yins no haud yer wheesht? Ye’re embarrassin’ me!”

Rubbing his face afterwards, he almost regrets bringing Simon into this. He should have known.

But much to his own surprise, he hears his Lieutenant chuckle next to him. Looking up he even sees him smile.

Simon takes his coat off, handing it to Soap, saying. “I’ll go say hello and see if I can help.”

The puzzled look on Soap’s face when Ghost walks away must speak volumes, since it makes his mother laugh.

Maybe he stresses too much about everything. Maybe it’s all going to be fine.

Maybe.

He stands in the door frame for a moment, watching a scene he would never have dared to dream of: His Lieutenant crouching in front of the tree, talking to the pair of legs sticking out from beneath it. The two of them talking like this isn’t the first time he brought Simon home.

“He’s no sae bad, is he?” his mother speaks quietly behind him.

“Nae… he’s not.” Johnny answers without realising. His mind is miles away.

“He’s a braw yin, too.”

Johnny’s face goes pale and he slowly turns to look over his shoulder, down at the woman behind him. The surging panic in his eyes is met with a warm smile and a comforting hand rubbing his back. No further words are spoken when he fully turns and crumbles into a much needed embrace, sobbing quietly at his mother’s shoulder.

“Ye didnae think Ah didnae ken me lad, did ye?”

Johnny doesn’t answer. And there is no answer needed.

Of course she knew. Mothers always do.

× end ×

[soughthope]

approaching topper, a smile on her face. 'hi, topper. what are you up to?'

Topper pokes his head out from the inside of one of his boats with a grin. " Queen Riley has arrived! Was sup!? I'm just doing some DIY stuff on the boat to make it more homey for the summer, cause you know how it's gonna be! Sailing EVERYDAY, barbecues, and maybe even some camping. Come aboard and check em out. " He holds out a hand for her.

[grass-pokemon-appreciator]

... I'm just gonna go and make sure my parents don't embarrass me in front of my girlfriends so you get my brother and sister instead yippee. Riley, Mabel, you have the floor

Wait what um. Hi, internet people?

Sup

[lilyisneat]

the first chapter of my hivemind fanfic :3

DISCAMER:

This Fanfiction is about the characters portrayed by the members of HIVEMIND, not the actual people. I do not know them personally, and do not make any assumptions about their personal life and sexuality, only what is portrayed in the various HIVEMIND channels. When talking about Riley, Graydon, Quadeca, ext. it is of the characters they portray/the personality they show on camera, not of the actual people. Thank You.

CHAPTER 1: Crush

Graydon had always questioned whether he was bi, but put it to the back of his mind ever since he started dating Blond Eden. Ever since Blond Eden died, Graydon’s crush on Riley became really strong. 

Graydon walked into the studio in order to film a video with his best friend and long time crush, Riley. 

They had hooked up a couple of times, but Graydon wondered if their relationship was only sexual.

“Hey Graydon!” Riley said.

Graydon’s heart fluttered. Omg he’s so hot, Graydon thought. “Ready to shoot this video?”

“Of course!” Riley responded, “Tony? DJ Grant? We all good to go?”

Both Tony and DJ Grant gave a thumbs up.

The video was another episode of Q4U. Graydon was doing really bad, only getting 2 points whereas Riley had 6. Graydon could have guessed the answers correctly if he had thought hard enough, but he was distracted by Riley's beautiful hair and mustache.

I have a great idea, Graydon thought I should tell him I like him, through a bit! “Hey, I have something to tell you.” Graydon started, “I have a major crush on you.” He had intended to confess his love through the guise of a bit, but his blushing face started to give him away. OH FUCK, he thought.

“Ha Ha Ha” said DG Grant.

“Really” Riley stated.

“No you're Riley,” said Graydon, trying to save the bit. “I’m Graydon”

“Ha Ha Ha” said DG Grant.

“That’s DG Grant, that's Hank, that’s Tony, and that’s the ghost that haunts the studio.” he continued, pointing at each person.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Riley said, putting his head in his hands. “I meant, do you really have a crush on me?”

“Hm?” responded Graydon.

“Ha Ha Ha” said DG Grant.

“No, you’re Riley. I’m Graydon, that’s DG Grant, that's Hank, that’s Tony, and that’s the ghost that haunts the studio!” He repeated.

“Ha Ha Ha” said DG Grant.

“Nevermind. DJ Grant, what’s the next question?” Riley asked.

After shooting the video Dignan rode in on a spinning Little Caesars sign. “Hey slut” he said to Riley, making him blush (he likes to be degraded by Dignan). 

“Sup, Dignan” said Riley bashfully.

“Hi, Dignan,” said Graydon, feeling jealous, “Want a smoke? I got some Marlboro reds”

“Nah, I just came to say hi” he does a kickflip on his sign “see ya”

Graydon then turned to Riley and said, “Wanna hang out tonight at my place?”

 “I’d love to,” said Riley seductively.

“Ok then, see you later,” Graydon said. “Bye everyone”

“See ya” said Riley

 “Ha Ha Ha” said DG Grant.

Dignan stopped Graydon on the way out of the building. “I heard what you said up there while you were shooting that video”

“What? How?” asked Graydon.

“Don’t you dare take Riley from me, he’s MY little pookie bear!” Dignan growled. “I got the whole place bugged you little shit, and don’t you dare try finding them.”

“It was just a bit I swear!” Graydon retaliated.

“Fuck off, I know what you are. Stay in your fucking lane.”

“Fine. I admit. It wasn't just a bit. I love him, and you can't take that away from me.”

“Let’s just wait and see who HE picks then. Is he a Digrider or a ‘Graydonrider’?”

“Fine. We’ll wait and see.”

(i will put this on ao3 when im closer to finished)

[the-smol-beanie]

[kevinscryptids]

WILDMEN IN WINSTED

Sup nerds... Big Kev nasty is back to rock your world with a tale of cryptid excellence. Buckle up and get ready to READ.

Connecticut.. the land of seersucker suits, Dave Matthews, and pastels has something bubbling under the surface and it ain't the new DMB album.

The Wildman of Winsted has been stalking the quarries, lakes, and lonely roads at night since the 1800's. The humanoid beast is covered in thin blond hairs, has no odor and stands at about 8ft tall. The first known encounter happened in 1895 when Riley Smith and his trusty bulldog were pickin' blueberries. They were rushed by a large naked humanoid covered 'head to toe in blond hairs.' The creature hooted and shrieked bowling the two over and ruining Riley's blueberries. Doubters will laugh but this was a NEWS article in a NEWS PAPER, the Winstead Herald, from 1895 a time when people simply did not lie.

Don't go getting twisted or some stupid shit, the wildman has been seen in modern times as well. During the 1970's back when a bigfoot or a funky monster was on every street corner due to the giant interdimensional rift in the Ohio River Valley. (ask your grandparents kid) In both '72 and '74 the beast terrorized several couples, a classic trait of these peeping toms.

Well if that wasn't enough to get ya thinkin' maybe these EYEWITNESSES sketches will tip the scales.

The wildman chilling #proof #truth #real

'give me yer berries' #real #bigfoot

That's all for now folks, smell ya later

-Kev

The Squatch Watcher

[reese-and-riley]

”sup” “hai!”

Intro post

Mod is @iburntthewateragain

(My friend sent me a photo of these 2 and it was sent cropped and he didn’t say if he made it so)

My story (again Idk anything about these accept what they look like and what are the names)

Riley and Reese are radio/TV/news broadcasters and Reese is nice, 16 years old, and 5,7 tall and she is energetic but isn’t always nice

Riley doesn’t really like Reese much but doesn’t hate her, he’s a little self absorbed, he’s 19, doesn’t really make a effort to be nice but isn’t a complete asshole, and is 5’2 but is able to kick somebody’s ass and he owns a gun :D

they don’t have eyes but they can still see fine

They are both incredibly ticklish

HCs for each one

REESE:

• Likes Reese peanut butter cups (obviously)

• Silly but can be a dick head

• Likes to make :3 face

• Is a trickster and often pranks random people and Riley

• Doesn’t know how to handle Riley’s gun and has broke shoulder (she is fine) while shooting a target

• Eats pizza crust first…

RILEY:

• He is self absorbed a lil but cares for other people

• He gets angered easily

• Will casually drop cusses while broadcasting and Reese doenst like it-

• Criminal record of stealing, and murder

• Gets dragged into things by Reese

rules:

no NSFW

How many times do I gotta put racist and nsfw jokes are okay? I’m getting tired of it