#lissie writes

[littleferal]

sleeping habits

headcanons for simon "ghost" riley (call of duty)

a/n i return once again to my silly headcanons, cod boys now included 😌 and since i'm a poly girl this includes ghost x reader x soap, though it's mostly ghost x soap. also shoutout to this particular fic and the series by thirteen bullets for giving me sleep thoughts rating general word count 1284 words. warnings none.

benny miller | din djarin | ezra | frankie morales | javier peña | santiago garcia | simon "ghost" riley | jack daniels

Insomnia is one of Ghost’s constant companions, and always has been. Between being too wired by his work to sleep, and having too many waiting nightmares to return to, he rarely, if ever, gets a) enough sleep and, b) good sleep. He’s found that in order to get both normally requires complete exhaustion, since relaxation doesn’t come half as easily.

(Except at the hands of one particular Scotsman and you).

Most nights (and early mornings), if Ghost hasn’t retired to his room he’s going to be found in the gym. It’s the fastest way he knows to knock himself out for a few hours. When done right he has just enough energy left to shower before passing out in his cot, but there has been a few times where he’s only made it back to his room before sleep takes hold. On the worst nights if Ghost hasn’t slept by 5am he’s just going to get up and go about his day.

Ghost is very particular about his sleeping space. The room needs to be: tidy, dark, cool, and silent. His room on base (and at home) are kept meticulously to these conditions (the mess that is Johnny MacTavish non-withstanding).

Even the times when his sleep space isn’t dark enough for comfort, he doesn’t like to use a sleep mask. Maybe Ghost will pull an old shirt over his eyes in the comfort of his own room, but he usually just suffers the lighter conditions. He doesn’t like the vulnerability that comes with having something over his face other than his mask, particularly an item that could be used against him.

Keeping to his standards on mission is a lot harder, but ironically Ghost actually sleeps better on mission. It’s something about how simple it is - he has his orders, he follows the steps, and he ticks off the to-do list, x number of hours of sleep included.

It’s also something to do with having someone that trusted close to him, knowing they’re keeping watch. Price, Soap, or Gaz, he never has to worry with one of the 141 watching over on mission.

On the other hand, trying to get sleep surrounded by unknown soldiers is next to impossible. He can manage it if one of the 141 is nearby, but if not then he usually dozes, and always seated upright.

Ghost prefers to sleep without his mask on, despite what the rumours say, and on base it only comes off when the door’s locked. It matts his hair horribly, dries his skin out and is just all around uncomfortable, especially the one with a solid plate. (He learnt this early on into wearing it, when it got twisted up during a bad nightmare and pressed painfully against his nose.) It doesn’t come off on mission though, so he’s learnt to stay still when sleeping and propped up to avoid any additional discomfort.

Even without a mask Simon doesn’t really move when he sleeps. Often once he’s found a position he’s comfortable in, that where he stays. He finds Johnny’s endless shuffling before he drops off endearing (and occasionally annoying).

Ghost’s military lifestyle means waking early everyday, and an alarm clock is rarely required. This effortlessly carries over into his time off, and he hates alarm clocks with a burning passion. The last time he heard one against his will (Johnny needs one to wake during his time off), it got broken. He wasn’t even fully aware of what he was doing, instead just blindly reaching over, grabbing the offending item and slamming it back down into the bedside table hard enough it went dead. (He apologised to Johnny, after a fashion, and offered to buy a new one but Johnny didn’t take him up on it. Something about not needing one with Simon around.)

Ghost isn’t a particularly tactile person, so when he does accept someone’s contact for any extended period of time it’s only because he likes it. In fact, one of the first signs he had of having feelings towards Johnny was because he slept best around him. And not just best when Soap was on watch, but best when they were pressed against each other. Thigh to thigh in a creaky safe house, no reason other than because they both want to. Johnny’s head eventually lulling onto Ghost’s shoulder, the background sound a comforting murmur from Price and Gaz on watch. Even Gaz commented on how well rested Ghost seemed the following morning.

Simon learnt the same lesson with you, and was shocked by how easily he fell asleep around you.

When Ghost and Johnny first started sharing a cot, Simon had the best sleep he’d ever had, so learning to accept that Johnny’s presence alone isn’t enough to keep his nightmares at bay was tough to do. Simon’s frustration at that alone caused enough rifts between them on its own, and was one of the reasons he was wary of adding another to their relationship. But then he learnt that nothing and no one gets him back to sleep peacefully like the two of you do.

When sharing the bed with you and Johnny, Simon always positions you between the two of them. It’s partly because he doesn’t like to sleep in the middle, preferring to be able to get out bed easily, and partly simply because he’s protective like that. He’ll sleep with one arm pulling you into him and the other under both you and Johnny, his fingers gently threaded in Soap’s mohawk.

If it’s Simon and you, he almost always sleeps wrapped around you. Again, partly out of his protectiveness, but partly out of the sheer novelty of having someone to hold so closely. It’s not that Johnny doesn’t encourage this, but there’s a different, quieter energy between the two of you Simon cherishes.

If it’s Simon and Johnny, he always has to let Johnny drop off before making himself comfortable. On a mission, it never takes long, but back on base or off Johnny is a more restless sleeper than him, so Simon ends up sleeping however is comfortable for them both. 9.5/10 he really isn’t bothered, and is actually a lot endeared, by this.

There are times when it’s all too much. When Simon’s nightmares get the better of him, and it’s hard to keep his breathing and hands steady. Those are the only nights he’ll sleep between the two of you. It’s rarely a comfortable position you all find yourselves in initially - one of you holding his head close to your chest, the other holding him however else they can - but once he’s calmed and you can all sink back into the bed it’s bliss.

Simon doesn’t often do being the little spoon. It doesn’t come naturally, or comfortably, to him to be so openly vulnerable, and he doesn’t like being the center of attention (unlike Johnny who shameless hoards the spot). However, the few times he’s found himself in this position, it turns out he really doesn’t hate it. But he’s still coming to terms with that.

The first time you and Simon slept together he didn’t really know what to do with himself. Johnny was one thing - demanding, sure of himself and their relationship, and large enough to fill the space between Simon’s arms - but you were different. You’d seen Simon first, not Ghost. You’d approached him with softness and kindness from the start, so he’d learnt to do the same back. So now he held you with that, and it made him feel lost in being someone who was seen and treated like that, and in being someone who had somehow found 2 people to love him.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

GOOD GRIEF 😭 OSCAR FOR MCLAREN X REISS.... CAN YOU GET YOUR FOOT OFF MY NECK

source: mclaren ig stories

[memories-break-our-fall]

Hm.

[lissygore]

Open Water

If I could, I’d plunge my fingers through your chest

And split your ribs apart

I’d dive into your depths, swim through shades of blue

And curl up beside your heart

From there I’d hope you’d let me stay;

Encapsulating me in yourself, forming a pearl around my sleeping figure

Your waves lapping against me with each soft breath

An ocean that wont hurt me

But love me and all I could be

If I stay within your open water

[the-gothmother-writes]

| 🤍 Starstruck | Character Intro: Felicity DuNoir |

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/ I bet on Losing dogs / I know they're losing and I pay for my place / By the ring / where I'll be looking in their eyes as they fall / I'll be there on their side / I'm losing on their side /

Thirty-two consecutive fouettés. 

The black floor of the dance hall was littered with lounging bodies. All whispering amongst themselves, giggling over inside jokes, earbuds plugged into their ears. 

The instructor had announced that today of all days would be individual, one on one instruction. Most dancers had already taken their turns and were now basking in the rare gift of down time.

Thirty-two consecutive fouettés. 

The giant mirror flickered with fluid shadow. A leg whipped around, propelling the shadow in a controlled spin. A single, dark braid snapped through the air like a black flag caught in a gust.  

Thirty-two consecutive fouettés. 

That was how many spins Felicity needed to achieve to perfect Odile’s variation. As any ballerina could attest, even the professionals, the dance of the Black Swan was no easy feat. Especially not for a seventeen year old who wasn’t even out of secondary school. 

So… that was all the more reason to do it, and do it right. 

Her head snapped back into place with each turn, staring her own reflection down and she forced herself to ignore the buzzing nausea licking at the edges of her brain. Her nerves told her body “just one more time,” every time and her body was starting to doubt their lies. Her shins burned, toes ached, and every muscle in her legs and glutes protested her steely resolve in true Francais fashion. But she refused to give into their demands. 

Thirteen… 

Fourteen… 

Fifteen… 

The lights grew colder, sparks of red and yellow flaring up like fire as her breaths strained to stay even. With each new spin, her chiffon skirt thrashed with brand new feathers that she could almost hear flutter as the wind whipped in her ear. The whine of a distant melody laced the gusts, an echo of her very soul. 

A shadow eclipsed the mirror. 

Her breath began to shake, muscles trembling. Her skin pricked when a chill passed through her. Just past her reflection… she could’ve sworn she’d seen his harsh eyes staring back. His heavy brow furrowed as he counted each fouetté she completed. His bulbous nose wrinkled with disapproval. The music lacing the wind in her ears coiled into a critical hiss. 

Suddenly it wasn’t her own voice counting. 

Twenty-three…

Twenty-four…

The chill seized her heart, stomach twisting with dread—

“Regarde la… She’s trying to win Jaskier back.” 

The maliciously sharp giggle cut through her concentration, her foot dropping back onto the black floor. She seethed as if it’d burnt, instantly raising her pointe again to try and save it… but as she looked back at her reflection she knew it was too late. 

She darted a bruised look from the corner of her eye at the source of the covert snicker. Claire… Her skin flushed, heart clutching at the sight of the petite girl. Claire’s caramel hair she insisted still counted as blonde glinted in the harsh lights of the dance hall, her lips wide to bear her teeth as she giggled politely with her cluster of friends. 

They weren’t looking at Felicity… or were they? Were those fleeting looks beneath thick lashes for her? Those private murmurs… sharp grins? 

Claire sent Felicity another, bright-eyed look and smiled sweetly at her. Felicity’s heart stole another quiet beat and her stomach pooled with nauseous uncertainty. That sugar coated smile… it leered at her. Challenging her to defy it. Oh she wanted to… She almost narrowed her gaze but before her eyes could twitch, her instincts panicked and she smiled back instead. Some cowardly, submissive smile that made her cheeks flush with shame.  

The exchange seemed to satisfy Claire, maybe even amuse her, and she darted another grin at her friend lounging on the gym floor with her. 

Their attention strayed away from Felicity, leaving her drained… or maybe that was just her body begging to collapse after such an extraneous workout. 

She’d made it to twenty-five. 

Unacceptable. 

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[worldsbiggestnerd101]

I did something

oh my god i love him !! that’s My Guy !!! this is a Masterpiece girlie

[mrsreginagold]

The danger that’s inherent in describing David Sandstrom in a fic is that it places a mental image there which distracts you for a long enough time that you can’t move on to the rest of the piece without a breather (I’m writing a new David/Mayko as a short break from Nikari and regretting my own decision 😅😅😅)

note to self: maybe write the plot (such as it is) and then go back and do the fanservice, it’ll cause things to go quicker.

[mybatimblog]

hey so i wanna post some writing but i'm kind of afraid that it won't go over well?? i like... dont wanna share my baby? i hope this writing goes well because of my characterization of sammy because i worked really hard on it but like, it includes soem oc stuff. and i just...

i dont know how to explain it

[hertwood]

i have work in less than an hour but hmmmmmm the voices the way marcus&callum briefly had a lil podcast 2gether and after the last podcast ppl were going NUTS abt marcus wearing a hoodie in it that lissie had also been seen wearing. and then they hard launch in detroit and callum crashes lap one????? AND THEY NEVER DID A SIDE POD AGAIN the lore is insane

[luminous-faerie]

it has taken me an entire month to write one (1) email. how

[euphor1a]

OMG A COMEBACK TO THIS GAME? LET'S GO! 🎧🎧🎧

LISSIE HELLO 😁😁!!! yessssss a comeback hehe, wanted to reblog an ask game but didn’t find any that made me interested 🙃, so, decided to bring this one back!! Had a ton of fun doing this last time and this time is no exception 🤠💕

x

x

send me a 🎧 and i’ll assign your blog a song i like, based on the vibes/aes! <3

[sneasedtomeetyou]

I'm sorry things happen so much lately off blog but I managed to uhh.. Get things sorted out. For lack of a better way of wording things. I got Lissie back and I wish I could explain further because I know it's strange to have this all happen and there be so muchradio silence but when I say I can't I can't explain it... Eveyrhting is overwhelming and confusing and... I had some help, I'm thankful for it. I'm tired. I want to lay down. I"m going to be back to my old self tomorrow.

I'm glad Dave is home. I don't know how i feel about her. I hope she's okay. I hope Amy's okay.

Lissi'es home and It's going to be okay

[cutemothman]

turns out the roadblock i needed to overcome for my western wip was to make the two main characters argue more

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

Hello, darling Crowie!💜For the Fanfiction Work-In-Progress Guessing Game; please tell us whether you have the word "blade" hidden somewhere in your WiPs? 😉Thank you! 😘

Hello, dear Susie! I do, actually!😊Here's a sneak peek from a much later point in my Unity story, where Arno and Félicité have reunited in Franciade. Hope you enjoy!❤️

"Best keep your wits about with that one, she's crafty, she is," the guard who had found her warned. "Oh, and don't stand too close - she kicks."

The second guard sneered. "Oh, come now. This puny thing? She probably puts up just as much fight as a kitten!" He sat down next to her and slipped his arm around her back. "Eh, kitten?"

She elbowed him, but received a sharp slap in return.

Something flared up in Arno's chest upon seeing that, and his body jerked forward with a protective reflex, but he forced himself to remain hidden. He knew rushing out at that moment would do no good - or worse, cause even more harm to Félicité.

He stayed put.

The young woman clearly wasn't going to take the slap lying down, as soon, blood and spit came shooting from her mouth as she quickly aimed it at the guard's face. His hand flying to his eye, he reeled back with a growl of frustration.

"Why, you little chit-!"

Jumping to his feet, the guard quickly pulled a knife, but before he could do anything with it, his heart was soon stopped by another blade.

Félicité's eyes widened and she curled back a bit against the wall, as she watched the now dead man slump to the ground, revealing behind him, none other than Arno and a bloody hidden blade...

[lissygore]

Dress me up in silk and lace

Curl my hair and paint my face

Call me perfect with a smile

And sit beside me for a while

Hold my hand and cover my eyes

Rest my head down on your thighs

Ramble on about your dreams

As you tighten my loose seams

Then suddenly you spot a crack

Sprawled across the porcelain mask

One you cannot seem to hide

With even the most delicate lie

Your smile melts into a frown

As you turn and place me down

I watch you as you walk away

Your plastic home becomes a cage

The worms will feast upon my flesh

I’ll feed the soil ‘til my last breath

And all you’ll ever do is break

The parts you’re not able to take

[live-forthehopeofitall]

the feeling of shipping hits different when it’s your own characters