#ghost posts from their box

[ghostinacardboardbox-oldblog]

I’m thinking again about how the TMA fandom can’t just be normal about Daisy like everyone is either uwu-ifying the murder cop, or making her into the mean lesbian trope, or outright ignoring and misunderstanding her character arc like. Y’all realize that the entire point was that she couldn’t make up for what she’d done and tried anyway, right. That she’s awful person who did unforgivable things, and she knows this. She isn’t trying to earn forgiveness because she knows she can’t, she’s trying to be better going forward just because it’s the right thing to do. The whole point was that someone can be unforgivable and still want to do better. That she was willing to change, even if that change would never be enough.

Acting like her “redemption arc” suddenly makes her a good person is the worst take ever but acting like her arc was worthless because she’s an irredeemable piece of shit is also Bad.

[boxofthings]

MW3 SPOILERS

an awful day to be a ghostsoaproach lover lmao

[starry-bi-sky]

ive been hesitating to ask this bc youve been on a roll with the clone^2au (which i am frothing over) but could i poke you for some childhood friend au? bc GOD i wanna see how danny reacts to reuniting w jason or how the rest of the batfam react to learning jason never told danny of his resurrection or wondering if dannys gonna put jokers dead body on a display/offering to jasons grave. i havent been normal about this since i first read it and was wondering. thank you for your writing.

RAAAAHHHH DON'T BE HESITANT I AM JUST AS FERAL OVER MY CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU AS I AM WITH CLONE^2 I AM DELIGHTED BY THIS. Like.,,,, i literally love them,,, so much. I can't listen to The Crane Wives without thinking of them.

(which is my fault - the ao3 fic of them has literally only crane wives lyrics for each chapter title and summary (posted AND the ones not written) so of course im gonna associate with them.)

(if you wanna listen to some of their songs while thinking of cfau here are my recommendations: "Once & for All", "Here I Am", "Hollow Moon" is a Danny AND Jason song to me, this would be my go-to song for an animatic of CFAU if i had the skills for it. "Tongues and Teeth", "Curses" and "take me to war" is a heavy cfau danny song to me, and of course, "the moon will sing")

Like they're BEST friends dude, they're two sides of the same coin and when they were kids they would do this thing where their 'fingers crossed'/'double-crossed' was them hooking their index fingers in the fingers crossed gesture.

and i'm actually currently rewriting my original post into a more fic-like format, and when I'm done I'll post it on here under the cfau tag - with the original post still in tact. But its,,, gonna be so long dude,,,, the original behemoth was just over 9000 words,,, and I've written 3k words already of the new one and we haven't even reached Jason and Danny reuniting at the gala yet,,, i need to get back to that,,,

and then to answer your questions!! god im almost hesitant to answer because i dont wanna spoil the little fic i had planned for it but also like,, its not like im gonna spoil everything, right? and answering the questions isnt the same as writing the scene down so!!

i love danny and jason's reuniting, like i've thought about it SO much and I've thought about it happening after Danny kills the Joker. I know the reveal could have been before that, and it could have been equally just as dramatic but like??? Thematically, doing it after danny kills the joker is SO good. To me at least.

Because like?? Jason's been in somewhat denial about danny's plan to kill the joker for months. ever since danny told him that he wanted to at the gala. And from Jason's pov its not even technically a plan. He sees his best friend for the first time after five years and his best friend still isn't over his death. He hasn't stepped foot in Gotham since his funeral and now suddenly he's here.

And he's still so full of grief over his death that he tells a masked vigilante that he's going to kill the guy that did it, who lives in said masked vigilante's city. And danny's got that look in his eyes that Jason knows so well that means he's being serious. And yet he still doesn't know if he should believe him or not.

And then he does. Danny kills him. And Jason can't fucking believe it. And when he goes and sees Danny, Danny's hands are still covered in blood. And that reunion? God like a fucking firework show. Danny's so fucking angry, and pissed, and hurt, and so goddamn overjoyed that he's alive and here that he sends them both to the ground, and if he doesn't calm down he's gonna take out the power in a five block radius.

there's just so, so much yelling on Danny's end. And then so much crying, first from Danny and then them both. because god, you're alive. you're here. i've missed you so much. i'm never letting you out of my sights again.

and Joker's death! God I don't want to actually say too much about that, but the way I have it set up thematically makes me actually not want danny to take any part of the joker with him as an offering. and he may actually forego that particular ghost etiquette and offer something else as an offering to Jason in substitute to not bringing him the Joker's heart/head/ritualistic body part.

Because you know what the last thing a man whose been spending the last two decades of his life building himself up to be larger than life would want? A death that's unremarkable. :) and that's all i'll put on the matter for now.

and the batfam!! they technically already know that jason hasn't told danny he was resurrected, and plenty of them have mixed feelings on them. largely bruce and dick i think, considering they saw firsthand how close jason and danny were when they were kids.

Dick was honestly surprised at first when he found out that Jason hadn't told Danny he was alive - and on one hand he understands the reasoning for it, and on the other hand he isn't sure if it was such a good idea. Especially after he sees Danny again after he arrives back in Gotham and sees just how badly Jason's death was still affecting him. But it's not like he's going to try and convince Jason to tell him - he can make his own choices, even if Dick has questions about them.

Bruce has much the same thoughts as Dick, so there's not really much to add here other than he might bring it up once or twice to Jason like, vaguely. And then immediately drops it when Jason shuts him down. He might actually somewhat...?? prefer that Jason hasn't told Danny because that raises a lot of questions and could jeopardize their identities. However, again, Jason can make his own choices and there's not much Bruce can do about it other than disapprove from afar.

Tim who knew of Danny from stalking the Wayne family shares similars sentiments of being surprised that Jason didn't tell Danny, but again, yeah, understands the thought process to some extent. Doesn't bring it up ever.

Everyone else who hadn't seen firsthand how close Danny and Jason are don't really have much opinion on it -- Jason didn't tell his best friend he was alive, great, he also didn't tell them either so it's not like its that much of a surprise. It would've been more of a surprise to them if Jason had told Danny before he told Bruce and co. Damian may make a comment or two about Jason not telling Danny, but its not about how he can't believe he didn't tell him or anything like it.

[cerise-on-top]

Giving Ghost a Music Box

Since I didn't receive any requests for once, I wrote something I've been wanting to write, which is just reader giving Simon a music box as a gift. I think he'd love something like that, with the small tune calming him down whenever he needs it. This is just self indulgent, but someone else might enjoy it as well, so I'm posting something for once.

A rather cold winter evening it was, the sun having kissed the world goodbye quite some time ago. With the final moments before dusk finally faded in its entirety, you looked at the blue sky, a blanket of clouds draped over it. A lovely sight, really, one you had seen a thousand times already. Not much snow was left, with a few piles serving as reminders of the cold that once was a week ago, but that, if nothing else, meant that you wouldn’t slip on the remaining ice anymore for there barely was any. You sighed as you waited at one of the traffic lights, having turned red just as you thought you could still make it. What a bother. Glancing at the small wrapped box on the passenger seat, you smiled. In your eyes, it was a rather special gift for a special someone, a person you had adored for years now. It may have been something small, but it held a lot of meaning to you. In fact, you had desired something like it for a long time yourself, but you knew it would make for a special gift for that special someone.

It was a music box, the wood adorned with carvings. It didn’t seem like anything extraordinary, and that it wasn’t, but it had a place in your heart. You played its melody in your head, remembering the metallic sound that came from it as you turned the handle slowly enough for it to be in tune with the actual song. You hoped Simon would love it as much as you do. And even if he didn’t want it, you’d be more than happy to keep it for yourself.

The light turned green once again and you hit the gas pedal, driving for another few minutes before you finally got home, watching as the lanterns automatically turned themselves on as it grew entirely dark outside. But it didn’t matter, nothing did in that moment. Not the dark, not the cold, not you shivering as you weren’t wearing clothes fit for such a cold evening. Soon enough you’d be inside anyway, reveling in the warmth of a nicely heated room during January. With the car parked in the parking lot nearby, you headed on home, not forgetting about the small music box.

You’d been thinking of getting Simon a gift for a while now. It wasn’t necessary, he always assured you, but you wanted to anyway, just to show your appreciation for him. He was a lovely man, a lovely boyfriend, who you could always count on, no matter what. Even when he wasn’t home, he’d try his best to talk to you whenever you needed it, listening to your woes as you rambled about a day, at first so sweet, gone sour due to the wrong people. Even though you could be quite the handful, something you were aware of but simply couldn’t help, he always stayed by your side, always making sure you were well. Sometimes he would neglect going to bed just to talk to you over the phone. Simon was a sweetheart indeed.

You held the wrapped box tightly in one hand, fumbling with your keys in the other as you tried to unlock the door of the apartment. It took a while, but you got it to work eventually, with the only obstacle left being a few flights of stairs until you could finally see the love of your life. As you were in no hurry, you opted for the elevator, pressing the button and waiting for it. Your mind wandered to the last time you and Simon made a small trip away from where you lived. Mind you, you were simply visiting his friend Johnny in Scotland, but you recall the sweetness of him defending you from some drunken people wishing to pick a fight with you. It definitely had its perks, having a boyfriend in the military, even if there were just as many downsides to it all.

You stepped inside the elevator, letting the door close behind you as it took you upwards. When you had gotten sick recently, he wouldn’t leave your side, unafraid of catching the flu himself. It was always a treat when Simon cooked, and that time he made you the best chicken soup you had ever had in your life, followed by a hearty vegetable stew as well. Even when you whined about being cold, when the three blankets weren’t enough, he wrapped you in his arms and made sure you stayed warm with him around, despite you sleeping all day anyway. And yet, somehow, he never got sick himself, getting away with a light cough and nothing else.

As you made your way up the final flight of stairs you thought about how he carried you back home when you had gotten injured. Hiking, while it could be a fun thing, could also be quite dangerous. And such a thing had happened as you barely had entered the forest. You slipped and twisted your ankle, unable to move up the entire mountain. You apologized over and over again, feeling shame and guilt upon not being able to go up the mountain with Simon. But instead of being angry with you, he picked you up, kissed your forehead and told you to be more careful next time. He even waited at the doctor’s office with you, just so he could keep an eye on you.

There are many things that can be said about Simon Riley. He’s a heartless killer, he’s a scary guy who knows how to end someone’s life with his bare hands, he’s stern and objectively scary to have around. And yet, at the same time, that man with an expression usually so cold has the warmest heart you’ve ever seen. If you had to, you would make every single mistake in your life again just to get a chance at meeting him, a chance at being with him, once more.

Finally, you stood in front of the door to your apartment. Quickly, you unlocked it and took off your shoes inside, the door simply falling closed behind you.

“Simon,” you called out, “I’m home!”

It must have been around 8pm, so it wasn’t very likely he was out anymore. No store would normally be open at such an hour. And soon enough, you heard something big get off the couch, the movement making its way towards you. The door to the living room was opened, revealing him. He seemed a bit out of it, a bit groggy even as he stared at you. Seems like he took a nap while he waited for you.

“Hey, love. How are you doing?” His voice was lower than usual, a bit more gruff as well. Although adorable, his hair was also a bit messier than usual. Seems like he genuinely was sleeping for a little bit. You granted him that, considering it wasn’t always a given he’d sleep well at night, even if you did feel a twinge of guilt for waking him up. As you took off your coat, you put down the small box, which Simon spotted immediately. “What’s that?”

Hanging up the jacket, you chuckled. “Open it and find out. It’s yours anyway.”

And that he did, carefully peeling off the tape to reveal what was inside. It took him a while to realize what it was, considering he just woke up from a relatively deep slumber. Setting down the wrapping, he looked at the small wooden box from every angle before taking the handle in his fingers. It was cute how small the box really was in his hands. When he turned it, he jumped a bit as the first sound played, stopping in his tracks before continuing. He let the entire tune play out, a smile forming on his face as he recognized it. “You Are My Sunshine”, something that held true for the both of you. A second time, he played the tune, listening intently as he seemed to be lost in thought, but happy regardless. It wasn’t much, but it conveyed how you felt about him.

“Thank you, lovie. It’s so very sweet.” Music box in one hand, he wrapped his free arm around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m glad you like it, I was worried you’d think it to be childish.” You wrap your arms around his large frame, taking in his warmth, the scent of his body wash wafting in the air.

“There’s not a single reason I wouldn’t love it.”

As you let go you gave him one more kiss on the cheek before heading off to the bathroom to wash your hands. It seemed to have been a good gift as, from time to time, you can hear him play with it. A smile etches across your face every time your hear a small, metallic version of “You Are My Sunshine”, knowing fully well he appreciates the gift as much as you hoped he would. Every time he thinks you’re not around, not listening, he’d play the small melody, and every time it would warm your heart. Simon was a sweetheart, it showed in his actions and the way he appreciates everything you ever did for him, how he treated every gift you ever got him.

[soupmanspeaks]

you ever wonder if the Glamrocks's face tracking acts up when they look at Glamrock-Freddy, like they'll look at his face, and the recognition will register as Freddy, but their systems for whatever reason or another think that there is a face overlapped on Freddy's do you think they see two small squares next to him, at his side, roughly child sized, but no one is physically there.... right...?

[allsassnoclass]

hazel what if u <3 wrote more of ur vigilante au <3

good news! i will!!!!! eventually!!!!

i have an ask box prompt from megs for it, and the more i think about it the more a "tortured for information" whump piece is appealing to me..... that being said i am currently fighting tooth and nail to finish a fic for a big bang and it is sapping All of my writing time, so I can't guarantee a timeline, but i'm hoping to knock out more of my ask box prompts by the end of the year so that would include one for the vigilante au!

[talentforlying]

9 PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER

last song: sunday morning - the velvet underground. favorite color: toss-up between teal and lavender! currently watching: the a-team (1983) episode "the beast from the belly of a boeing". last movie/tv show: the hobbit: an unexpected journey / westworld s1. spicy/savory/sweet: sweet! relationship status: single mwah. last thing i googled: "paddy the baddy pimblett" current obsession: i've got an osteology class this semester that's revived my decades-long forensic anthropology fixation with a vengeance!

tagged by: the lovely @inhericurse! tagging: if you see it, go for it and tag me!!

[majorshatterandhare]

There’s a post in my drafts that I *know* I finished ID-ing last night and added to my queue, but it is currently sitting unfinished in my drafts instead. It deleted my description of two whole photos and most of a third and they weren’t *hard* but it was still time and effort that is gone now.

[kkpwnall]

I'm just curious, but how many wips do you have going?

biologically, emotionally, or legally? i’m sorry jen, the set up was too perfect!!

umm... tl;dr lots, but in various stages

3 actively writing (soon to be 2 if today goes to plan🤞) - untitled ghost hunter steddie wip (which now has a title but it might be stupid so tbd) - main wip aka diyc. i've written about 3.5 of 5 chapters (it's all plotted out but it keeps growing), but it won't be posted until it's complete because i'm just Like That - 'bonfire' prompt for lex's winter spicy six fic challenge that just exists as some bullet points and bits of dialogue rn

8 on deck / percolating that have enough dialogue / set up / words written to coalesce into a plot that i'm really excited to pick up (might have to roll a d8 to see which i write on next...)

15 that are just vague scenes / dialogue that might some day become something and maybe don't really count as wips but have a title or a premise and are just hanging out in my big big doc of wips

[baezdylan]

some extracts from stuff I was reading but didn't put in my gardens post...having thoughts about them...

its residue of family history and nostalgia -> "I used to hate apples, so my mum put faces on them."

private comfort sharpened by contrast the terror of invasion by alien spirits -> "Something came a while ago to hide. It's still hiding," + "it's been eating away at your life for a long time now."

an uncertain, disintergrating order that transcends the limits of rational separations -> "two parts of space and time that should never have touched, pressed together"

gardens actually needed to involve "a fall from somewhere or something" -> "Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of a box" + the Doctor accidentally leaving Amy behind being presented as a fall from grace + "He'll rise higher than ever before and then fall so much further," + Demon's Run is an honorary garden because the Doctor leaves Amy behind again (it's also a place of life+death, false safety, the Doctor's failure):

linking your garden post because it's incredibly relevant

Been doing some digging of my own and etymology overlaps between the words "garden" and "paradise" are quite astonishing. A semantic connection was to be expected (well duh), but I found out that both words circle back to "enclosure". [Old Iranian: pairi (enclose, surround) + daeza (wall) & Indo-Germanic ghordo (fence, enclosure)] I don't know... curious how the equivalent of bliss is to be described as a sharply defined environment above all. What's the main goal? To keep in or to keep out?

The garden paradox... exceeding the limits of known reality and yet remaining within a specific realm because once the line is crossed the garden is risking forest status, something about it will inevitably be altered. (forbidden fruit anyone?) Amy's childhood garden functions as a metaphor for The Runaway Bride Amy AND as a conscious barrier designed to keep her behind the walls of the same story, in which case Amy encapsulates the garden symbolism once again. (and that fits the theme of 5x01 screenshot you shared)

Then there's this:

I think the shots above are the touchstone of these ideas, it's a story swallowing itself whole. (goes for both scenes individually and their relation to one another) Amy in her wedding dress (traditional motif) covered in (artificial!) flowers that gradually disappear as you get further away from her heart (she is everything the garden represents) and then slowly reappear again as you reach the hem of her skirt. (her arc is repetitive, it always leads back to that garden hence her last appearance) Her door resembling the Tardis, white nightgown, white wedding dress... Everything she does has to have its twin moment, everything she does is enclosed by something she understands, but can't prevent from happening (overgrown garden framing both of those shots) even and especially if it's harmful. (Cassandra!) The garden is sacred, the garden is a prison... Amy is a piece of galactic fabric taken right from the crux of everything (Amy Pond as the heart of the TARDIS... nobody look at me) and yet, she's constantly pushed into scenarios that demand for her to make a definite decision. She's completely unfamiliar with common mechanisms of beginnings and endings (...she's always waiting... she doesn't make sense...) and her story is nothing but peppered with beginnings and endings. This is why she thrives in the frozen timeline! (re: The Wedding of River Song) Time works in her favour only when there's something wrong with it, when everything that ever happened ceases to exist chronologically. (this unites our non-narrative gals once again, because for the TARDIS, non-linear timestreams ARE the one true reality, I love taking the alien metaphors of DW to an imaginary level I myself invented) oh and if anybody is interested, this is (one of the online places) where Ivy and I talk about Amy being the embodiment of the TARDIS (X)

"A residue of family history and nostalgia" is something that can also be said about graveyards and well... you know.

Also the first and the last time Amy sees the TARDIS it's right after it's suffered a malfunctioning of sorts -> fall from grace.

I love the idea of definite shapes and objects being crowned irrational and fictitious in this setting because it's Amy! Everything is bookended... nothing ever ends... Dr saying "Amelia Pond, get your coat!" in AGMGTW...

[ghostinacardboardbox-oldblog]

Actually I’m obsessed with the fact that in the books, Annabeth was blonde and Percy had dark hair, and now in the show, Percy is blond and Annabeth has dark hair.

They’re taking turns.

[loosesodamarble]

Hi, Soda!! ♡ How are you doing? Is there anything you feel like venting about? <3

- ghost anon

I'm doing quite well, Ghost Anon! Thank you for asking!

I finished my that super big project of mine and will be getting back to writing fic again! (I did post one fic but that was when my suddenly falling into the zone for whatever reason.) I have a few fics planned for the future. One was an idea I set aside to do the song analysis series, one is a concept I’ve had for a while and just recently wrote out an opening scene, one is based on something I got in my inbox, and the last is a request I had to dig out from the void.

Something to vent though? Work is tough but not any worse than usual. Even if I did have something weighing on me (which does happen sometimes), I'd like to be better than I had been in the past and not bring it onto Tumblr. I try to keep my blog's vibes generally positive (yes, even when I write angst) and venting about IRL things would detract from that.

Still, thank you for showing concern, Ghost Anon. It's very sweet of you to check up on me after I had my inbox closed and didn't have any personal/original posts for a while.

Hopefully I will hear from you again. But until then, please take care of yourself too. Drink water, rest well, and be kind to yourself.

[boxofthings]

got any roach-centric fic recs? like idc the pairing, ghostroach/soaproach/ghostsoaporach any thats roach focused plzz

*cracks knuckles* I GOTCHU ANON this is my time to shine

If anyone wants to reply with their own pls do!

(These are in no particular order)

GhostRoach:

i left my heart in the mountains (right next to yours)

I'm going to want you 'til the stars evaporate

and here i stand (in the dirt with you)

These are all by Santihan and ugghh these were the fics that pulled me back from my near decade-long ghostroach obsession sabbatical. Well-written, emotional, they are amazing, my favs, I will rec these til I die (the first two are painful :'))

Things That Burn by abel_obel

Such a good one, I always go back to this when I'm in a ghostroach mood. Good ol' classic person A gets injured and person B freaks out

Roach Wouldn't Really Do It...

Exhaustion's a Funny Thing

Both by tinyduckies! Def read the TWs for the first one, but arghhh, I go back to these ones a lot!. I really like how the first one's more realistic/gritty when it comes to the aftermath of surviving Loose Ends

Second one's just a lovely depiction of Ghost and Roach's dynamic. Loved the banter and the second chapter ends real sweetly :)

The Barracks: Part 2

Ulterior Motives

Both by doberman, these two are much longer fics (which ghostroach is in desperate need of) and are such interesting reads!!

The first one is an AU that takes place in a pub with Ghost being his repressed, unhealthy self, and Roach coming in as the new co-worker to sweep him off his feet lol

The second one is ongoing and takes place slightly after MWII with Ghost meeting Roach outside of deployment

Sovereign by Applescone

God, this one really puts me in an introspective mood. It's so well-written and just feels so grounded and human. Takes place years after Loose Ends, with Ghost and Roach rekindling their relationship whilst dealing with the complications of Shepherd's betrayal and death

我给你早在你出生前多年的一个傍晚看到的一朵黄玫瑰的记忆 by Alex_Upshur

Ok I know this is in Chinese, but just use a translator like I did and yeah, while it won't be as accurate as the author wrote it, it's still a really lovely fic and i adore it :') A lil bittersweet look into the 141's lives and sweet moments with Ghost and Roach <3

Of Doubts and Dreams (Retold)

The Hook Up

All written by Call_Of_Booty, an og ghostroach author from wayyy back during the og trilogy (and ff.net) days. The first one's a rewrite of one of their old fics and it focuses on Roach and Ghost's dynamic up until the night before Loose Ends.

Second one's about Roach deciding to leave the SAS whilst he and Ghost have complicated feelings for eachother due to past hookups. Both great reads!

Distance Makes the Heart Pissed Off by krwaken

I'm sure every GhostRoach shipper knows this one lol. A lovely 200k word slowburn of these two <3

Fear & Delight by EpiKatt

Hornet's Nest with more GhostRoach :))

Tell Me Why This Has to End by Feral_Raccoon

ANGST :( Post-Loose Ends. Ending broke me haha

and you wrote your name / right there next to mine by cheese_n_crack

more Loose Ends angst :( A bittersweet ending with Ghost and Roach looking at the stars in their final moments

You'll Get Sick Anyways by ghostslefttit

Very short, but very cute lil fic with Ghost taking care of a sick Roach :))

If We Crash (I Hope We Do) by mintyiecat

Man I can't even begin to describe how much I love this one. Portrays Ghost and Roach's relationship post-loose ends where Roach is now a civilian. Loved how the author depicted their relationship as not flawless. Felt very human and raw. Very sweet ending :)

GhostSoapRoach

Something in the Orange by fixfoxnox

Y'all been knew this would be on here lol

Follows Roach's pov where he's been reincarnated into the reboot timeline with all his memories from his old life and him trying to make his way back to Ghost. This one makes me sad as hell. Has all the feels :')

Something in the Orange by insomniamemoirs & RandomWordsAndStormyDays

Funny how my top two GSR fics are named the same thing, but hey, they're both amazing. I was apprehensive because of the "calling Soap Roach by accident" trope, however they really diverted my expectations and made these three really feel like equals in a relationship. Really love how they made sure to establish a strong dynamic between Soap and Roach instead of pitting them against each other. And Roach isn't just some 2D character here, he's very nuanced and I love it!

Freezing Waters by AmphibianEft

Sweet fic of Roach getting injured and Soap and Ghost freaking out and taking care of him

Stress Relief by Anonymous

Just Soap and Ghost taking care of Roach after Hornet's Nest (smut) :)

SoapRoach

Leg Day by tinyduckies

Good ol' smut lol (09 soaproach mm)

Everything That Isn't Said by pajamabees

More 09 smut

Taste by fixfoxnox

Just 3.5k words of Roach wanting to kiss his captain :)

fall for me by punishervest

Just a sweet moment between 09 Soap and Roach with Soap reminiscing on his past with Price but also considering how he wants something more with Roach <3

She (Means Everything To Me) by mylareading

Just 1.9k words of Soap being down bad for Roach (super sweet)

Roanig (Roach x Konig)

I Really Like The Way You Stare At Me by turqu0ise

The fic that introduced me to roanig <3 Just a cute fic focusing on the development of their relationship

Subatomic by tinyduckies

Another nice fic focused on the development of their relationship. Loved the interactions they had in this :)

These are the ones I have so far! I'm sure later on I can add to the list, and if anyone wants to reply with their own feel free :)

I've also been made aware there are Keegan/Roach fics, but I haven't gotten around to reading them yet, but def check out their tag anon! Hope this was an adequate rec list haha

[starry-bi-sky]

Hello!! Question about clone^2, what are the styles of Danny and Damian? Like day to day stuff for example. Does Danny buy Damian the traditional 8 yr old clothes (dinosaurs with sunglasses tees, stuff like that) or does Damian already have a style he likes? And Danny! I know that Sam gives Danny various punk hairstyles and that he prefers gender neutral stuff but outside of that what would Danny wear in general?

You don’t have to answer of course, but I’ll give you a thank you in advance!

- kindest regards, Gas Can

I LOVE GETTING ASKS NO WORRIES MY GUY. AS MY FAVORITE SAYING GOES 'THE QUICKEST WAY TO STARRY'S HEART IS THROUGH HER ASK BOX'.

And I love this question, this is a good one!! If damian's 8 then he's been around the fenton house for about a year or so. I can't see baby dames ever willingly wearing traditional child-like clothes, at least not in the beginning when he first arrives at the Fenton house. Which he'd be around 6-7.

Danny tells him (with the help of google translate) that he's going shopping to buy him new clothes sometime during Damian's early stay since the little man had been wearing the same clothes he arrived in for a while (which you can find here with the reblog of the colored version) and honestly he probably asks damian if he wants to come along to pick something out. he doesn't know the kid's style and it might be a bad idea because damian might make a run for it, but danny's caught him before at this point.

(plus he'll need help carrying bags - his hands are freshly injured and still smarting. they're not as bad as they will be in the future, but hand injuries hurt. consider it repayment for being the cause of it, damian)

And early Damian would choose clothes that remind him most of the league - so dark colors, more formal styles, think like how you'd imagine his original template to dress like, if you will. Danny is side-eyeing him in judgy bewilderment, but says nothing other than to complain about the price tag. Of which Damian has no idea what he's saying. He'd stick with those clothes until he has his little moment with Danny in the OPS Center where he finally tells him he's a clone (even though Danny already knows) and that he doesn't want to go back. After that he'd reluctantly and steadily start branching out.

So eight year old Damian, whose begun to chill out more and act more like a child his age would? I don't think he'd ever wear graphic t-shirts about kids shows, but I can see him wearing graphic tees of like, animal facts on it, animals, stars, etc etc, and then plain shirts in a variety of increasing color. I have this mental image that Danny buys Damian one of those joke shirts that says "bro I'm 8" / "this is what an awesome eight year old looks like" (with two thumbs pointing at itself) and Damian wears it to school a week later. Damian's variety of shirts increases the more comfortable he gets and the more he comes into his own identity.

Damian also, steadily, keeps stealing Danny's flannels even if they're almost comically large on him. They're comfy and he's embracing his role as baby brother (and also he really looks up to him because he understands, to an extent, of what danny's done for him). Danny and the Fentons start buying Damian his own after a while because, well, he can't keep taking Danny's.

And Danny! I'm so glad you mentioned Danny, my favorite GNC boy. I keep forgetting myself sometimes that I gave him long hair, even if it is my favorite thing about him. And honestly? Danny doesn't really do much with his hair if Sam isn't styling it. He usually lets it stay down on his head, and then pulls it back into a ponytail or a half-ponytail at school depending on what he's doing (gym vs a test).

He keeps it in a ponytail as phantom to keep it out of his face, and then when he's working on a Ghost Case he sometimes has it up in a (messy™) bun because the feeling of having his hair on his neck when its in a ponytail drives him nuts, especially when sleep deprived. Sam teaches him how to braid it back into a simple braid and its become a new fidget for him to braid his hair and then unbraid it. It's easier to keep off his face than a ponytail, so he sometimes braids it back when he's sneaking out as phantom. It happens more often once he gets skilled at it.

And danny's style! I know you probably only meant his hairstyle, but I also wanna talk about his aesthetic! He doesn't really put much into his appearance. Very teenager-y boy 'threw on the first thing i saw on a hanger/floor' type, but he kinda has a bit more of a casual, soft grungy-like look as an older teen. Just some hints of Sam's influence - and you know what, some of Tucker's as well because that's his best friend too.

(Off topic but 19yo Danny from my Childhood Friends Dead On Main au has a similar style that's a bit soft punk as well, and that is somewhat more intentional on CFAU Danny's part. Why make an au if I can't play dress up with my favorite character? :))

Mostly because I read a Spider-Man x DP fic that described Danny (from an outsider's pov) as looking kinda like a skater boy who listens to alt rock music and it's been my personal interpretation of him ever since. So he has band tees, flannels, graphic tees with jokes on them, shirts with astronomy facts on them, and idk if he'd ever buy ripped jeans but Sam has certainly bought him some and they fit so *shrugs* he wears them. And he has one or two of those denim jackets with the hoodie sewn inside it. And from Tucker he has a few turtlenecks because Tucker reads as a turtleneck-kinda guy, geek chic-ish.

[cerise-on-top]

Haiii! I love your work :D

Could you possibly do a gaz x reader? When him and reader are celebrating their anniversary:), that would be really cute :’))

Hello! Thank you, I hope this is enjoyable as well! I went with a more fluffy route this time, I just wanna see Gaz happy and healthy and as far aways from any and all danger as possible! This request was really cute, I love Gaz! I'm glad there are several of us who do! Though I think I went a bit overboard with this, but how could I not when people are requesting best boi!

Celebrating Your Anniversary with Gaz

For the sake of this request, we’re gonna go with the idea that Gaz was able to be with you during your anniversary and didn’t end up being somewhere in the world, having to fight tooth and nail for his survival. We’re gonna go the fluffy route with this!

His memory is really good, Gaz would never forget something as important as your anniversary. Doesn’t matter if you’re together, doesn’t matter if you’re married. He has it memorized, he wrote it down on his phone, he noted it on several loose papers lying around just about anywhere. Trust me when I say he’s the last person to ever forget something like this. Although he would appreciate it if you remembered as well, he’d probably love it even more if, just once, you forgot about your anniversary, that way he could properly surprise and absolutely spoil you rotten. He wants to make your anniversaries days you can remember, so he will tailor them to your liking. You like going to arcades or amusement parks? A bookshop date? You just wanna go to McDonald’s? It’s all yours, and don’t you dare even think about paying, your wallet will not be strained on such a holy and sublime day.

The day would start off simple. You’d sleep in, if you can, cuddling for as long as possible, until one of you needs to get up for whatever reason. He’ll nuzzle into you, holding you as close to him as possible. He wants you to feel his warmth, how alive you make him feel, he wants you to feel how his heart beats for you and only you. Gaz has a beautiful voice, it’s fairly low and very calming to listen to. He’d hum your favorite tune that’s a bit calmer. He wants you to be as relaxed for him as possible, maybe even fall asleep in his arms again, even if he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying up to chat a bit with him as well. He’s gonna be all over you, making sure to touch you wherever he can so you feel secure with him. And when you’re drifting off to sleep again, that’s when his plan begins.

Gaz will plant a kiss on your neck or your forehead, whatever he can reach as he excuses himself to the bathroom. However, this sly dog will actually head for the kitchen to make you some breakfast. He’s a good cook, so whatever it is you like, he’ll make it. French toast? Scrambled eggs? Eggs and bacon? Your wish is his command, even if you never uttered a single order. He just hopes you won’t wake up or, even if you do, will at the very least stay in bed. This breakfast isn’t for you to enjoy in the kitchen or the living room, you’re to eat it in your bed. He even got you a nice tray so he can carry it to you without making a mess. Orange juice and all. You will be spoiled.

It’s then that he’ll wake you with another soft kiss to your temple, maybe shaking you awake a bit, so you can enjoy your breakfast together. Might even feed you a bit, just to be embarrassingly cute while he’s at it. The more content you look, the better. Afterwards, he’ll leave for the kitchen again, putting the tray away and decorating the living room a bit. There will be the most gorgeous roses you’ve ever seen in a vase, alongside several other flowers, each of which tells of a different kind of adoration. And when you finally follow suit and spot the flowers, he’ll just smile and claim that they looked very pretty. If you understand flower language, then you can tell he just really wanted to say he loved you in as many different ways as he could.

It’s then that he’ll ask you to get ready for the day, to brush your teeth and hair, and put on some clothes. You don’t need to look particularly fancy, he wants you to be as comfortable as you could possibly be. This is when he’ll take you to a place you like which, as mentioned before, could be just about anything. Waterpark, roller skate rink or just a lovely walk in the park, he’s open for everything. You will be accommodated accordingly. Those places are where you’ll be spending the majority of your day, grabbing something simple to eat for the time being, such as some fries or maybe some toast at a good cafe or pub.

When day meets night, he’ll take your hand in his, taking you to a fancy restaurant you’ve been to a few times. Preferably one where the both of you can look down at the city and see all the beautiful lights it has to offer. You’ll spend another two hours or so there. At the very least, you’ll be there until it gets dark, eating good food, having a good drink, maybe some wine as well. It doesn’t matter what you choose, all Gaz wants is to see the twinkling city lights dance in your eyes afterwards. When the evening is starting to roll over into night, he’ll take you to a ferris wheel. A big one where you can see the entire city from.

He’ll watch you as you excitedly look everywhere, taking in as many sights as you can, hoping that the ferris wheel stops at just the right time. Ideally, that would be right at the top. But he won’t be too picky if it’s somewhat to the side as well. As long as he gets to see your mouth agape at all the pretty lights, he’s content. While the ferris wheel stops, he’ll shoot his shot. If you’ve been together for a few years but aren’t married yet, he’ll propose to you. If you’re already married, he’ll still get down on one knee, take your hand in his and kiss its back tenderly, like a knight in shining armor. It’s embarrassingly sweet, but he knows no one but you is going to see it, so he does it anyway. You’re royalty in his eyes, you’re his to protect and care for, and he needs to show his loyalty however he can. Once he’s done kissing your hand, he’ll get up, holding your hand still and pulling you up with him, just so he can hold you close once again. Another tender kiss to your lips, and then he’ll get out a small box. Either the proposal ring or, if you’re married already, he’ll gift you a lovely little necklace made of pure silver. Something you can wear that will always remind you of him.

Once you’re down on the ground again, he’ll take your hand in his and lead you home, conversing with you about how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you in his life and how he hopes he gets to spend many, many more years like that with you.

If it’s not too late yet, you might watch a movie and cuddle on the couch. But you’ll likely both be tuckered out after today and just snuggle up in bed, ready for the next day.

And this is how Gaz’ ideal anniversary would go.

[qwimchii]

i was hoping to put forward a request, if that’s okay? 👉🏻👈🏻 angst (or hurt/comfort?) and smut with ghost? and i’m totally not projecting here but — reader has a hard time finishing, either by themselves or with someone? and when they’re with someone, they get so worried about taking too long and not being able to finish or even feeling good and they apologize for taking too long and it dissolves into them crying and apologizing more and mentioning how they think they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them and it kinda makes them think ghost will leave for someone else because that’s what everyone else has done and basically just ghost being soft and sweet and understanding and taking his time with reassurance and praise and yeah… gonna go hide now 🥲

𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5k

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…

note: omllllll!!!! 💞 i am so sorry for taking so long to write this request but this is so sweet and cute 😭 thank you sm for requesting!! ><

pt 2, pt 3

Simon Riley had been your boyfriend for maybe a month now. or maybe two weeks. or maybe three months, you decided finally, sipping your water with closed eyes, willing the frustrated bounce of your knee to settle.

of course, picking your head up and looking at the entrance of the restaurant one last time, that frustration redoubled, and you watched your knee bounce with a mind of its own.

setting the drink back on its coaster, you drew random patterns into the floral tablecloth with a pout. Simon had chosen this restaurant. Simon had initiated communication with you—mindblowing as it was—just last night when you were scrolling through instagram in bed. 

the notification had ballooned over a post of an old friend from college traveling in europe, and immediately, you had squealed, pressing your phone to your chest to stop the race of your thrumming heart. you made yourself count out two minutes—at least two, before you responded.

— Dinner tmrw at the diner on 6th ave?

— sure!! good to hear from you :))

— what time??

— 7.

it was curt, it was short, it was sweet, but it gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the day and weasel your way into the diner, earlier to the occasion than usual. now, it was half past seven. now, you were playing with the tablecloth of the booth and feeling stupid and sorry for yourself.

stupid because you had sorely missed Simon since he went radio silent for over a month. sorry for yourself because you had thought you were at least close enough for him to text you beforehand.

definitively, you knew you had met the brit five months ago when he moved into the empty apartment adjacent to your own. he crowded every entrance he stood in, so massive and hulking when the elevator doors that you startled with a squeak, dropping the cardboard box and all the items scattering out over the carpet floor.

you had flushed with embarrassment, whole body heating up as you scrambled to stuff all the items back into the box with a string of apologies. he had dropped to your side without a word, putting back a pair of socks, your old band t-shirt from high school, and tennis shoes that had gone gray with discoloration. he hadn’t even bothered to one-over your personal items, but you were scrambling for an explanation anyway.

“donations for vets,” you said with nervous laughter. “i donate every year.”

“vets?” he reiterated, and you looked up into his face, eyeing the black surgical mask on his face carefully, brown eyes a murky kind of gray-ish beneath blonde eyebrows and his hood drawn up above that. 

“mhmm,” you squeaked, suddenly wary of the stranger in front of you.

when he said nothing more, you asked him, “any veterans in the family?”

then he just stared at you and you blushed, feeling stupid for saying anything at all but—

“my grandfather,” he said slowly. “and my great grandfather.”

“nice,” you choked out, unsure what to say as you searched the carpet of the last of your remnants.

then, he added, “i’m in the military as well.”

just when you were about to bolt, intimidated by the sheer size of him and his eerie unfamiliar presence in your apartment complex, it was like he read your mind to introduce himself.

“Simon Riley. new neighbor.”

you nodded slowly, giving him your name back and edging your fingers under the cardboard box, heaving it up into your arms.

“nice to meet you,” you said, giving him a weak smile from over the top of the box. he tilted his head at you, eyes flitting from the box to you.

when a prolonged silence ensued, you turned on your heel and stepped toward the elevator before you jerked around again.

“thank you for your service,” you squeaked, scurrying toward the elevator and feeling awkward when he just watched you from the hallway. you waved as the doors closed, watching him slip his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

with one long look, he turned and prowled down the hallway.

that was five months ago. two months later, after endless awkward encounters of wordless greetings with him, the plumbing in your bathroom sink had exploded, flooding the floor in a puddle of water and spraying over the front of your white dress.

in a panic, you went to your next door neighbor Simon who opened the door upon your third set of rapid knocks.

you looked up to his massive form in the entrance, suddenly aware of how the front of your soaked dress had become sheer when you asked him to help you. 

he helped. and then you asked him to get drinks at the bar around the corner as a thank you. then when that became a regular occurrence, things just got more confusing.

it felt exclusive. maybe. you thought it felt exclusive when a man approached you in the bar, gearing up for a casual conversation with a sly smirk, but Simon was always at your back in an instant, a large, warm hand on your waist and his words in your ear.

she’s taken.

your mind spun after the first time it happened. taken?

whirling around on your heel after the man left with a low grumble and scowl, Simon just blinked down at you from behind his surgical mask, squeezing your waist with both hands before he was sinking back down into his seat, hulking as he leaned over the bar.

when the same happened a few more times, you didn’t question it, thinking it was maybe just a perk of the friendship. he staves off a couple creepy men at the bar and you pay for drinks. 

or at least that’s how you thought it worked until he started sliding his card across the counter to the bartender to claim the tab before you could even get a word out.

you were especially confused when he knocked at your apartment door one night. you opened it to find him void of the hoodie usually slung up and over his head, blonde hair hanging down his forehead, and a black shirt in its place. that’s when you saw the thick black ink winding down the tattoo sleeve of his arm, and your eyes darted over it with a blush, before you were inviting him in.

he had smelled something baking, he clarified, craning his neck into the kitchen. that made you giddy because you hadn’t taken him for someone nosy, but you entertained it nonetheless, assuming he just had an insatiable sweet tooth for cookies.

another part of you hoped he just had a sweet tooth for you.

then the baking became a regular occurrence. you’d bake him all sorts of sweets while he watched you from the little table in your kitchen, staring from behind that black mask of his while you prattled about your day and he took it all in silently. somewhere along the way, after so many nights of him chewing behind the mask, he ditched it completely, and you could watch him devour your brownies in a few bites without the annoying fabric in the way.

the new schedule had become very regular until it was baking night and he didn’t show up to your door. rolling the tenseness from your shoulders, you sent him a quick text, saying you would bring over the sweets in the morning to his apartment.

when he didn’t respond to that, a little nervous bubble of anxiety rooted in your chest. you found out from your landlord days later that Simon would be away for work, and that hurt more than you wanted it to. if he had taken the time to at least notify your landlord, he could’ve done the same for you… couldn’t he?

unless he didn’t think about you that way. but you were so sure—from the quick glances you shared, his gentle touches as he brushed past you in your kitchen, or the possessive grip on your waist at the bar, or just the way he was so relaxed around you meant something.

those were your thoughts that ran in circles as you sat at the diner booth. the waiter checked on your table every once and a while, sending you nervous glances ever since you said that you had a date… or a friend. or something like that.

you felt stupid for accepting Simon’s proposal so quickly, even after he had ghosted you for weeks. even then, you had dolled yourself up anyways, picking out the new dress you got last weekend and doing your hair and makeup. you buried your face in your hands, not looking up when you heard the chime of the diner opening.

when you heard a familiar, low and grating accent, your head snapped up to see Simon standing by the entrance and talking to the waiter, gesturing to you as the waiter just nodded.

Simon strode over to you, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and dressed in his military fatigues, half his face behind in a black surgical mask.

you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when you reached your senses, heart soaring as you scrambled to stand. your hands twitched against the table when he stopped in front of you, dropping his duffle bag to the floor.

had he come straight from the airport? for you? you felt like your mind was spinning, but you forced it to still, desperately not wanting to jump to any strange conclusions…

swallowing down your thoughts, you said slowly, “it’s been a while.”

looking up into his murky brown eyes had never been so comforting.

“it has,” he affirmed, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.

for a long moment, you both just stood there in silence, staring at each other and unsure what to do.

eyes darting down to his torso, you could feel the warmth of his body in the close proximity, and you felt so tempted to just touch him.

you outstretched a hand to brush over his clothing, and when he didn’t move away, you pressed your knuckles into his abdomen, amazed to feel him solid and real. then you wrapped yourself around his torso, giving him a tight hug, cheek pressed against his strong chest.

immediately, he engulfed you, squeezing you back.

“missed you,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut.

you felt his nose press into the crown of your hair. “m’sorry m’late, love.” 

“s’fine,” you sniffled, feeling stupid when tears pricked up in your eyes. when you pulled back, you swiped at them with the back of your hand, startled when he reached forward to brush his fingers across your wet cheeks, squishing the chub of your face lightly.

he looked at you with such a softness that you almost melted, feeling nervous because you had never seen him look at you like that before.

then, as you both slid into the booth, you chided him in between sniffles, “don’t do that to me again.”

don’t leave me in the dark again, was what you meant, and you knew he understood what you meant when he nodded curtly.

the dinner went smoothly. more than you could imagine. or maybe you were just overwhelmed with the exhausting joy that Simon was still just the same since before he left two months ago—lowly grunted non-verbal responses as he munched on a platter of fish and chips, stealing a couple of your fries after he devoured his plate at a startling pace, and some rumbles of half-sentences, leaning on his elbow as he watched you ramble with excitement and sip on your milkshake every now and then.

when you accidentally got a smidge of whipped cream on your nose, he reached across the table to wipe it off, cutting through your words mid-sentence. you thanked him with a blush, shifting over the booth, just blushing harder when your shoes knocked against his under the table.

leaving felt smooth too—walking back to the apartment complex just a couple blocks away. even in the darkness of the night, you felt safe tucked near his side, enjoying his presence so close to your side and feeling disappointed when you reached the hallway you shared in the apartment complex.

he stopped by your door and you fumbled with your dress, struggling for words.

“come inside,” you offered, though it sounded more like a plea. your eyes flitted from his face to the duffle bag on his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of your dress.

“i know you must be tired but—”

“m’not,” he assured, squaring his shoulders. you nodded dumbly.

“i can bake brownies?” you squeaked, and he blinked down at you.

“s’reason why i’m here, love.”

at that you blushed, opening the apartment and throwing your jacket on the couch, moving to rifle through the kitchen.

“it won’t take long i promise,” you called from behind the fridge door, snatching the butter and eggs from it.

closing the door to turn to the counter, you jolted when Simon materialized beside you, boots, mask, and the jacket of his fatigues off, reaching above you to open a cabinet. your eyes darted over the ink designs of his muscled arm.

“flour and sugar’s here, right?” he asked, and you squeaked a yes, ducking beneath his arm to put the butter and eggs on the counter before grabbing a mixing bowl and baking pan from a lower cabinet.

once all the necessary items were strewn across the counter, you measured out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. beside you, Simon leaned back against the edge of the kitchen sink, arms crossed as he watched you.

you were hyper-aware of his presence, hands jittery, confused because he always sat at the kitchen table to watch you. he never got this close and personal, uncrossing his arms to slide a hand over the counter right by where your hip leaned against it.

from your peripheral, you glanced at him, finding him already staring down at you.

“can i help?” he asked, voice gruff, and you turned your head to stare at him in dismay. this was new. very new.

“sure,” you choked out, scooting over so he could help you measure out the ingredients. he filled the space easily, arm pressed against yours in the little space.

you blushed. this was very very new.

he cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, and you watched the yellow glop plop into the flour.

playing off the whole situation as a joke, you laughed nervously as you mixed the wet ingredients into the bowl. “miss my baking that much?”

you bit down on your lip, unable to look at him, just focusing on the churn of brown batter in the mixing bowl. when you felt him lean in, his strong bicep against yours, you muffled a yelp.

“‘course.”

“really?” you asked, pouring the batter into the greased up pan.

for good measure, you dipped a finger into the batter and tasted it, eyes flickering up to Simon. it was sweet.

he stared down at you, an imperceptible, dark look on his face as he leaned over and dipped his thumb into the batter, then swiped the gooey brown substance over your cheek.

“oops.” there was a smugness in his voice that his face smothered, expression blank when he gripped your jaw tight. 

you gasped when he turned your face and leaned down to lick you.

the textured muscle of his tongue pressed into the curve of your flesh, licking away the sweet taste from your cheek.

then, he leaned back with a hum. “i like sweet things.”

you clutched at his wrist keeping your jaw firmly in place, wide-eyed and heart beating out of your chest. you watched his finger dip back in the batter and reached up to your lips, spreading the sugary sweet batter over your lower lip.

you squeaked, unable to look anywhere but his bare face, rugged and handsome in the low light.

“may i?” he asked, eyes flitting down to your lips, and you couldn’t even nod in his hold, just a low, breathy yes on your lips that he swallowed, tongue sucking the traces of batter on your lips. 

you whimpered into his mouth, clutching at his shirt as he angled your head with a soft touch, sliding his hand on your jaw to your neck, just resting there. that spurred on a familiar burn in your stomach, and you squirmed in his hold.

when he leaned back, you were breathless and panting with flushed cheeks.

“sweet,” he rasped, like he was approving the taste as he licked over his lips.

from that point on, you didn’t really remember how you got to your bedroom, Simon’s hands edging up the hem of your dress beneath him, knuckles drawing a warm trail up to your hips as he sucked on the skin of your neck.

the only thing you could do was whine and squirm under his weight, legs and arms pinning you down as he did what he liked, giving you sweet kisses that made you feel all hazy.

you watched his head dip beneath the fabric of your dress and you gasped when you felt his lips against your thighs, skipping where you needed him most, and then against your stomach and the flesh of your breasts.

and all throughout the pleasurable haze, your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging into the bed because you were beyond nervous.

you knew this would happen eventually—that Simon would end up in your bed or the other way around. kissing him was a dream. having him caging you against the bed with his heady weight was a dream.

sliding a hand over his back, his rushed movements slowed against your skin, taking the time to suck carefully around your pebbled nipples that had your hips bucking up with a whimper.

your mind spun. but you were so nervous.

it was all you could think about as he descended back down between your thighs, both of his big arms curling around your thighs to lock you in place against the bed.

words rung your mind loud and clear—what the hell is wrong with you?

when Simon dipped a thumb beneath the top of your panties, the words shook you again.

what the hell is wrong with you?

you hadn’t even noticed how still and quiet you had grown until his head perked up between your thighs, pupils blown wide. he swiped a thumb over the soaking entrance of your panties, drawing a whimper from your throat.

“what is it?” he asked, voice so throaty and rough that you shivered with want. you had wanted this for so long.

“nothing,” you whispered, tugging his head back down between your thighs, but he didn’t budge, frowning at you.

“tell me,” he probed, “m’not touchin’ you if you don’t, sweet thing.”

sweet thing.

swallowing hard, you shifted against the bed. “m’just nervous.”

“yeah?” he stroked the plush, soft skin of your inner thigh, before pressing his lips to it. “don’t worry. i’ll make you feel good.”

you nodded, biting down on your lip, though his words didn’t quell any of the raging anxiety thrumming within your chest, even when he kissed the wet fabric stretched over your cunt, nosing through your folds and his hot breath against you.

lifting up your hips with ease, he tugged a pillow beneath you.

“comfy?” he asked, hooking two fingers beneath your panties and sliding it down your thighs.

“uh-huh,” you gasped, back arching when he ducked between your legs and pressed the pink muscle of his tongue flat against your cunt.

“good,” he grunted against you, pecking your swollen clit before swirling his tongue around it, and building a steady, delicious pace that had you hiccuping moans.

your hands snaked through his hair, gripping the blonde curls tight and pulling, startling when he groaned in response, the tremors going straight from the back of his throat and into your clit.

you ground against his face and he purred in approval. “tha’s it, sweet thing.” 

you took the pleasure and rode it, pushing yourself further and further to the edge, or at least you thought you were, seeing no end in sight for the sensations wracking your body. every passing moment felt too long, and you could practically feel the irritation roiling off Simon in waves.

even though you couldn’t see his face, just could hear his soft noises of approval against your cunt, it was like you knew he was growing impatient.

frustrated, you huffed a whine, that anxiety in your chest squashing half the pleasurable experience. he reached up and pressed down on the lower part of your tummy, intensifying it all over again, making you gasp as your head fell back.

“relax,” he mumbled, playing with your clit as he pressed his tongue into your cunt, humming as he tasted you.

it was overwhelming. too overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked up in your eyes as you were torn between finishing and feeling good and pleasing Simon and—

a little sob broke from your throat, and he went still between your legs.

you covered your face with your hands, digging your palms into your eyes and muffled the sounds falling from your lips.

why were you crying?

brows pinched together, you scrunched up your face. “sorry, sorry, just keep going—”

you cut off when a sob choked your throat, refusing to look at Simon and withering when he stayed silent, feeling really fucking stupid as you just cried in the bed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered, feeling him tug your dress back down over your thighs and hike your panties back up your hips.

you expected him to leave, ready to feel the weight of him against you on the bed disappear, and his heavy footsteps through the apartment, then the slam of the door behind him.

and you did—the dip in the bed lifted and you heard his footsteps edge around the bed.

then, you gasped when he slid into the bed beside you, arm circling beneath your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, breath right against your ear.

“what’s wrong, sweet thing?” he sighed, though it didn’t sound irritated, just tired as he sunk into the bed beside you.

your breath stilled, the cries dying in your throat as you twisted to look back at him. his gaze was soft as he peered over your shoulder, squeezing you between both arms.

“what?” you croaked, and he leaned over you to press a kiss to your cheek, squishing you into the bed.

“what’s wrong?” he repeated, thumb drawing circles against your clothed tummy.

“nothing,” you said, and he made a low noise of disapproval, pressing his face against the side of your head.

clutching at his arms holding your waist, caging you to him, you choked out the words. 

“i just…” you turned your head from him, tears spilling from your eyes and onto the sheets. “i wanna be good for you.”

he hummed against your ear, squeezing you tighter. “you are so good for me, love.”

“no, i meant…” you huffed, sniffling with a frustrated sound in the back of your throat.

“i take too long,” you squeaked, avoiding his eyes. “there’s something wrong with me.”

a sob pierced your chest. “i think i’m broken.”

you turned in his arms and buried your face in his chest, embarrassed as you soaked his shirt with tears, muffled the sharp noises of your throat against his solid body. he curled around you, hand rubbing down your back.

“who put those ideas in your pretty head?”

his voice was deceptively soft, though you heard the threat that lay under it, and you shivered.

“my ex boyfriend.”

his body went tense against you.

“look at me luvie.”

you lifted your head and let him kiss you, tasting salty and sweet from the slick of you still in his mouth, as he brushed away the tears on your face.

when he pulled back and you looked over the curves of his face, the depth of his dark eyes, you admitted to him softly, “i don’t want you to leave me.”

it was such a small whimper that you don’t think he would’ve heard you, but from the way his face crunched into a frown you knew that he had.

“m’not going anywhere,” he promised, pushing the hair from your forehead. “m’right here.”

you whimpered, pulling him back down for a kiss that was wet and hot, teeth knocking against yours when he pressed you further into the bed.

“lemme make you feel good,” he whispered, and you clutched at his arm wound tight around your waist, the other creeping up to cup your breast.

“please,” you whimpered, and he hummed into your lips.

“when’s the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, lips trailing down to your neck, his large hand edging down to brush over your pelvis.

“long time,” you squeaked, gasping when his hand snuck beneath your dress, rucking it up so it pooled around your waist.

“c-can’t do it myself,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties. “doesn’t feel good.”

“yeah? bet your ex couldn’t make you feel good either,” he mumbled, either to you or yourself you couldn’t tell, mind dizzy and somewhere up high when his forefinger gently brushed over the shell of your clit. “bet your he didn’t even know how to touch a woman. how to make her cum.”

you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, and you could feel him smile against your neck.

“s’okay, baby. i’ll make you cum.”

his fingers circled your swollen clit, other hand fondling the sensitive plush of your tits. as you squirmed against his touch, little breathy noises leaving your lips, you could feel his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass. you whimpered at the sheer size of it.

“please, Simon,” you gasped, clutching at his wrist as he played and flicked at your clit, speeding up then slowing down and dragging you through a slew of different body wracking sensations, leaving you so whiney and sensitive that your thighs started to shake and twitch.

your ex boyfriend had never given you so much attention like this—just honing in on his own pleasure, degrading you when you tried to chase your own. it became something you dreaded. something you didn’t want and forced yourself through, faking orgasms and artificial, pitched moans.

it was so different from Simon that you felt delirious, blissed out as real, loud whines broke through your throat, riding his hand just wanting more and more.

“more,” you sobbed, burying your face into the sheets, jolting when he played and pinched at your swollen nipples.

“want you to cum on my hand first, sweet thing,” he whispered, and you almost cried real tears.

he huffed a laugh into your ear.

“feel that good?” he cooed, and you nodded against the sheets, wiggling your hips in his hand.

“c-can’t,” you whined, shivering when he made a noise of disapproval.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty, licking over your ear. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby. i can play with this pretty cunt all night.”

you moaned, grinding down into his hand, eyes rolling back into your head as he abused your clit, crushing it beneath his fingers.

“you’re gonna cum on my hand, and then i’m gonna stretch you out with my fingers, yeah? then you’re gonna cum on my fingers, and i’m gonna fuck two more orgasms out of you. how does that sound, sweet thing?”

“Simon—” you choked, whole body going still when you finally reached a sharp peak, shaking and twitching and moaning softly through your whole orgasm that made you see a blinding white.

he groaned in your ear, so filled with pleasure it sounded like he came alongside you.

“there you go, baby, good girl. so good f’me.”

your hearing felt muffled when you resurfaced, blinking your eyes open, sleepy and muscles lax against the bed. he was petting at your naval, peppering little kisses and kitten licks along your neck and shoulders.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, luvie,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver slither down your spine.

“mhmm,” was all you could get out, pliable as he slipped from your side and moved you to your back, tipping your knees open as he dove between your legs.

you looked down, watching him drink up the cum from your pussy, slurping loudly and sucking on your twitchy clit, your hips squirming in his hold. 

“so sweet,” he practically growled, and you whined in response, trying to push his head away.

when he finally relented, he sat back, licking over his lips before tugging the shirt over his head. in the dim lighting, you could see scars littered over him, naval blessed with dark hair and a toned stomach that made your mouth water.

“think you can do that four more times, baby?”

when you shook your head, he only smirked, crawling back over you and pressing the crotch of his fatigues against your sopping pussy, grinding his painfully hard, big cock against your aching entrance.

“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty. “m’gonna make you, sweet thing. you’re gonna be coming on this cock all night long.”

taglist: @ivybeeloved