#i spin out this way about everything... major things and minor things
Text
just talking/worrying about my life
i really really want to go away to college, partly because i actually really like school when i'm not a) severely mentally ill and b) having to take classes i hate and c) 100% online classes, and also because i really want to be more independent and not live with my mom and college feels like a good opportunity to do that (and i've lived in the same city since i was 6, i would really like to live somewhere else)
but to be honest i'm terrified that i won't get accepted anywhere out of state and then it's like... what do i do now? i didn't do as well on my SATs as i could have had i known about the test more than 2 days in advance. i'm a high school dropout and most of my community college transcript is withdrawals. i did do well in the classes i actually completed and i did really really well on my GED, but it's been so long since i've been in school or even really doing ANYTHING that i feel like i'm just not smart enough, or just too out of practice to even get in anywhere. and if i do manage to get in, i'm terrified that i'll go away and won't be able to handle school, or won't be able to handle living alone, or won't meet any of my personal goals i want to accomplish during college, and i'll just have to drop out and move back with my mom (which is not the end of the world if it does happen, i love my mom and i know she'll support me, but i don't want it to happen anyway). and then it's like... college is so insanely expensive. i know i'll have my parent's support but it's SO much money and then i like... have to pay for food, what if i'm horrible at feeding myself and i relapse and have to drop out? what if COVID gets significantly worse and i'm alone in a strange city and i get sick?
i know that all of this is the extreme what-ifs i do in any scenario, and i always, always doubt my capabilities for everything, and more often than not it turns out much better than i expected (like i was CERTAIN i was going to fail the GED at first). and if i don't apply to schools there is zero chance that i will get in. i know i'll be able to survive no matter what happens, and i have parents who are well off and who will always let me move back home if i need to.
but somehow when i was 15/16 and just assumed i was going to die before my eighteenth birthday everything seemed less stressful. now i'm here, alive, wanting to live, 19 years old and it's like. now what.
#guess i missed out on the usual high school stress time because i was so deeply mentally ill that i just did not have it in me to worry abo#about college#so maybe this is small potatoes comparatively but somehow everything feels easier when you're in that super dark place#not better... but easier#anyway i guess this is the reason to go back to treatment and actually put effort into recovery NOW#so that i will be hopefully doing a little better when i God willing DO go to college#also my dad dropped out of college countless times and changed majors and he still got his medical degree#and has had many good jobs#and somehow also ended up married to my stepmom of all people who is definitely out of his league#so like. me having dropped out of high school and pulled out of community college twice is not the end of my academic career#and even IF i don't get into the colleges i want or if i have to drop out... there is still hope#and honestly 50/50 odds with some colleges is NOT bad at all#i spin out this way about everything... major things and minor things#but the truth is i am way more capable than i think i am#and again. if i don't try then there is NO chance of the things i want happening#and if literally nothing else? i have a VERY good chance at getting into colleges in the state#it's not my ideal--i really wanna go out of state--but they are good schools and i can move after college too#i just like to make things more difficult than they have to be i think#anyway the good thing is i have several months to sort out applications and i wouldn't be going until fall 2023#so i have a little over a year to get my life together#everything's gonna be okay#i hope
1 note
·
View note
Text
Eyes On Me
Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”
◆
Word Count: 8.1k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Flirting, pining, size difference, mentions and descriptions of injury, mentions of battle, dirty talk, praise, dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex
◆
Summary: Ghost gets a life-threatening injury, and it’s your job to make sure he returns to full-health.
◆
A/N: I rarely do summaries on one-shots, but since I’m introducing a character I figured I would (: I loooove this character, and I’m really hoping to write more one-shots with her and Ghost in the future!
Part Two: Lucky
◆
Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist
Join My Taglist!
◆
Working on them was easy, they took everything you gave them like champs. Splints, stitches, cleanings, anything they had, you took care of. They’d bite their tongues, ball up their fists if they had to, but for the most part, that was it. Vargas wouldn’t whine, but Gaz would. Price was nearly silent and in all honesty, Soap whimpered like a baby. But Ghost, he didn’t ever make a sound.
It wasn’t always like this, you weren’t always 141’s go-to medic. Before, you were here for everyone. Whoever needed you, that’s who you tended to. You got so good at it that at one point, you’d been promoted to a rescue mission position. Daily helicopter rides became your usual. Freezing temperatures and smoke-filled air met your exterior shell on a weekly basis. You’ve even been dropped into open fields full of bullets and bloody cries. The training you received was minimal, but enough for you to take it and run. You had talent, that talent growing into expertise. You knew how to defend yourself, your reflexes were good. You could shoot a gun and if need be, hold your own. That’s what got you to 141.
They impressed you, they still do. The team worked like a well oiled machine. And when you first saw them, you immediately questioned him.
“What’s with the mask?” You’d asked him, straight to his face. He tilted his head. “Is it still Halloween?”
The boys laughed, but Ghost didn’t. His fingers curled, and he sucked in a breath. You were brand new; not a good way to start off with him. Hey, it’s not your fault he took it the wrong way. You love Halloween. Sometimes you even find the scary things sexy.
Eventually you learned the real reasoning behind his mask, behind the skeleton head that hid his face. Honestly, you were intrigued by it, his anonymity. But sometimes, it got in the way.
“Blood type?” You’d asked, going through each soldier’s file as you became acquainted, some months ago now.
“Unknown.” Your colleague responded.
“What? What do you mean?”
“We have little to no information on Ghost’s background.”
“What if he starts to bleed out? Or needs a blood transfusion?”
“Guess I’ll die.” Came his gruff response.
Spinning around in your small and circular wheeled chair, you saw his bulky body taking up the majority on the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest while leaning against the frame.
Why is she so interested in me? He’d wondered, suspicious of you. What he should’ve been asking himself is, why am I so interested in her?
He’d seen you work on his team, you were efficient and clean. He’d even go so far as to call you fearless. And surprisingly, he finds himself liking that. You were a bit of a brat, but at the heart of your teasing jokes, there was a sense of playful familiarity. And overall, having you around was good for his men. He didn’t know how vital you were to his team, though, until you had to be flown in to rescue him.
Pressing into his wound, you didn’t even feel him flinch. The gauze was soaked in the red stain seeping from the cut in his skin, and you were running out of supplies - you were running out of time. And apparently, your frantic nature showed.
“Hey,” You direct your sternest voice at him. “Ghost - Simon, eyes on me.”
He’s spiraling; body feeling light and his consciousness leaving you quickly. His eyelids are fluttering.
“You worried about me, love?” He was out of it, losing blood and flirting while in his hazy state. It was the first time he’d ever been nice to you.
But really, he wasn’t just being nice because his body was going into shock and losing his grip on reality. He was talking to you this way because he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to after this.
Giggling, you shook your head, happy that he was now responding to you. “Nah, big boy like you?” Patting his shoulder, you said, “You’ll be just fine.”
Even if he didn’t show it, Simon was worried, too.
“But I bet you wish you’d told me your blood type now.”
He wasn’t happy. Simon didn’t ever seem that happy, but right now, he definitely wasn’t happy. All he’s ever known is a military lifestyle, training and being out in the field. Having his team’s back, contributing to the work effort, that’s what he was best at. And now, he can’t do any of that. At least, not for the next couple weeks.
“I’m not a child.”
“Never said you were.” Rolling your eyes, you openly sass him. “It’s just a blanket.”
It was the first day of him being in your mini infirmary, just the two took up the room. Each of the boys came in to give him a pat on the shoulder, make sure he was doing alright. But in all honesty, Ghost hated this kind of attention. Being coddled and cared for. He could take care of himself.
“Are you hungry?”
“No.” He grunts, looking away almost childishly.
“Suit yourself. I’m gonna go get some pizza.”
At this, he perks up a bit, groaning. “Can you bring me back a box?” Mumbling, he’s still looking away.
Before you leave, you turn back around with a grin. “Sure thing, big boy.”
Once you’re finally gone, he sighs, his emotions contradicting each other inside. Frustration doesn’t even come close to what he’s feeling. He never gets injured in the field. Is he losing his touch? Surely not, he’s still in his glory years. For him, it’s embarrassing to be seen like this, not just in front of the boys but in front of you, though he’d never admit it. You make him feel nervous inside, like he has to heighten the man he already knows himself to be. He has to be tougher around you; he can’t show any weakness. The only problem with that, was that he did have a weakness, a major one. That gaping hole in his chest.
“Alright,” Coming back with two boxes of pizza, you set them on your desk, moving them to the side. “Let’s clean you up.”
“I can do it myself.”
“Okay, look.” Wiping your hands off of your pants, you turn to face him. “This is my job. Would you get angry at Soap for clearing a room before you? Or Price for conducting an infiltration route?”
This makes him stop, closing his mouth for a moment, although you can’t see it.
“I’m part of your team, you have to acknowledge that. Your job is to kill bad guys, and my job,” Taking a few steps toward him, you point to his chest. “Is to fix the mess the bad guys make.”
Ghost shifts his shoulders, looking away from you for just a second. And after a moment, his eyes return to yours, and he nods.
Reaching down, he cracks the knuckles on his hands, and it takes everything in you not to break his eye contact. Every movement of his muscles makes you sweat, the ripples of them more than a beautiful sight. He’s impressive. All he has on right now are a pair of shorts and a bandage wrapped around his upper chest. Other than that, he’s bare. You can see the muscles in his abdomen, the impressive form and firmness of them, the bulges of his biceps and the chorded muscle in his forearms. His legs are thick, huge, sturdy enough to hold his entire weight along with two other men, if need be. Again, impressive.
Satisfied with his nonverbal response, you turn to grab the essentials. Pulling over a small, wheeled tray, you begin your work. Ghost sits up off the back of the bed for you, allowing you to remove the bandages around his chest. He maneuvers himself to sit cross-legged while you do it, his head tilted down to watch you work.
Truthfully, Simon thought you were attractive the moment he saw you. And then you made fun of him. But when he balled up his fists, when he inhaled that sharp breath as a reaction, it wasn’t because he was mad at you. It was because right then and there, he was attracted to you.
“You ever been stabbed like this before?”
He doesn’t answer for a minute, not really wanting to admit it. But then he shakes his head. “No.”
This tells you something, it tells you that you’re tending to the worst injury he’s ever had. And you’re shocked by his answer, you would’ve assumed he’s had worse. But a stab to the chest that just barely misses the heart? Yeah, that’s pretty bad.
He doesn’t budge when you apply the antiseptic, allowing you to work in peace. Once you’ve cleaned the wound, he’s surprised to feel your hands. His eyes widen while keeping his gaze on you, watching as your fingertips explore him. They move across his chest, just barely gliding over his skin.
“Doesn’t look too bad.” You murmur to him, eyes trained on his chest.
Ghost is undeniably the fittest out of the entire team. He’s huge, and not just in height. You haven’t seen his naked torso since the day he was stabbed, and when you were tending to him then, you definitely weren’t thinking about how attracted you were to him. You were working to save his life. But now, you have time to let your thoughts wander, to let yourself experience what he feels like.
Trailing down a bit, your fingers graze over his abdominal muscles, your tongue briefly sliding across your lower lip. His muscles are firm, smooth, and warm. Your touch makes him feel uncertain; he doesn’t know what you’re doing, but it’s making him nervous. Well, not nervous, necessarily but… excited.
“What happened to you being nice to me, huh?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. And the smile you offer is pretty. “Thought you’d be my best friend after I saved your life.”
This makes him laugh, a small grunt coming out toward the end from his injury. You’re right, he should be nicer to you considering the circumstance. He should also be nicer to you because, well… he fancies you.
“I’m sorry.” He finally acknowledges, albeit quietly. “I know I’ve been acting… standoffish.”
“It’s okay,” Shrugging, you reach for the clean bandages. “I get it, you’re embarrassed.”
Sighing, he looks down at your nimble hands again. “Yeah.”
“Let’s get your blood pressure before you eat.” You then tell him, changing the topic while retrieving your tools. “Then I’ll leave you alone,” Glancing up at him, you grin. “I promise.”
Right now, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone. You’re nice company.
Attaching the cuff over his bicep is a feat in and of itself. His muscles stretch the fabric, but it ends up securing around him adequately. You then take your stethoscope, applying it to his inner elbow while you begin pumping the meter. Glancing up at the machine, you focus on the readings, and absentmindedly, your hand wanders. While continuing to record his data, your free hand slides down his arm and into his palm as you steady yourself beside him.
Widening those pretty brown eyes, he releases a breath, now looking further down. He’s surprised, but honestly, it feels nice. Makes him relax. And while staring at your smaller hand now resting in his, he inhales deeply, curling his fingers slightly around your hand. This makes your head snap to the side, having not fully realized what you’d done. But Ghost doesn’t move when you look at him; he does stare at you though, right into your eyes. And while keeping your gaze, he lightly squeezes your hand. He really is sorry. He’s grateful.
The days following the first are actually pretty nice. With your main focus on Ghost, the rest of the crew seem to leave you alone for the time being.
“You’ve been a big help lately.”
“What?” Comes that thick, English accent. “I’ve done nothing but sit on my ass.”
“Yeah, but it keeps them,” Pointing out into the training yard, you finish, “Off my ass.”
Turning, he stretches, watching his team run around and lift weights on the field behind him, only a window separating them.
“It’s like I told you, sweetheart.” His head then moves, returning his gaze to you. “You’re the finest thing they’ve seen in months.”
“Oh, yeah?” You tease. “What about you?”
Since he’s been nicer, you’ve been spending more time at his side. You didn’t need to sleep here, he was fine by himself, but after that first night, you did. You couldn’t help yourself. Thinking about him all alone in the infirmary while you lay cozied up in bed made you sad. You didn’t want him to get lonely. So, you slept on the small loveseat in the corner, the one the boys usually sit on to smoke. And your sleepovers were starting to make you close, that sweet little nickname being evidence of that.
“What about me?” Under his mask, his face heats up. He knows what you’re asking.
“Am I the finest thing you’ve seen in months?”
Under that skull-painted cover, he grins, giving you a single nod. “You’re pretty.”
“Oh, Ghost,” Walking over to him, you lean into his bicep, clutching it. “I knew you’d eventually fall in love with me.”
Rolling his eyes, he grumbles with an amused tone, “A pretty big pain in my ass.”
After he says this, you laugh, pushing yourself off of him.
“Bones?” Your comm link buzzes slightly, a bit of static coming through.
Pressing your button, you tilt your head to the side. “What’s up?”
“Searg. is calling a meeting.”
“Time?”
“Eighteen hundred.”
“Alright, I’ll see you then.”
“Bones?”
Once your conversation has ended, another one promptly begins. Lifting your head to face him, you raise a brow. “Yeah?”
Ghost tilts his head to the side slightly, narrowing his eyes at you.
“Never heard anyone call you that.”
“Yeah, well you’re not on my med. team.”
“Well, you’re on my team, aren’t you?”
Giving him a thoughtful pout, you eventually answer with, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Then we should know your cover.” His voice is stern and gritty, deep and rumbling. It’s like how he talks out in the field.
“Well, now you do.” Giving him a quick wink, you turn away, intent on doing some paperwork before your meeting.
“What’s the meaning of it?” When you don’t immediately answer, he calls for you. “Bones?”
Something about him using your code name makes you grin.
“I’m known for breaking them.” Turning, you face him once again, a smile plastered across your smooth lips.
“Known for breaking bones?” He clarifies, sounding skeptical.
“Yep.”
“Huh,” He scoffs, “That’s not exactly something to boast about, is it?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be if they were mine.”
Oh, now he gets it.
“I did a lot more than sew up wounds before I came here.” With a heavy sigh, you reminisce on your time in the field. But you made a choice to be here. “I used to break them, now I heal them.”
He never knew. And honestly, this new information only makes him more attracted to you. A badass soldier with a gentle touch? Sounds like his kind of woman.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You emphasize, “I’ve got some paperwork to do.”
“Fine.” He returns flatly, and you giggle. He really sounds upset about that abrupt ending.
“Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself while I’m gone?”
“Won’t be a problem.” He grunts, shimmying to lay back down. “I’ll just sleep.”
Throughout your hours spent together, you’ve discovered that he’s quite the fan of naps. He takes one every day around three in the afternoon, and you wonder if he’s finally enjoying his rest. It doesn’t help that you often have to leave him while he’s sleeping, though. You’ve liked being by his side lately, it’s comforting. His presence has begun to grow quite kind, and even in the quiet times, it’s nice. But you still have meetings and other duties to tend to. Which include the one you’d been called to.
Ghost’s gentle snore is what prompts you to look up, your eyes searching for his own. But they’re closed, one arm propped behind his head with his other hand laying over his stomach. He’s fully laying on the bed, the blanket only covering up to his waist. He’s still shirtless, and right now, he looks practically naked. Aside from the mask. Eyes trailing up his form, you take in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the light-colored hairs scattering his pectorals, and even further down, leading from his belly button to the hem of his pants. It makes you sigh, he looks peaceful. You’ve never seen him so relaxed.
You don’t like the thought of him waking up to a room empty of you, so to make up for it, you head to the cafeteria. As quietly as you can, you return with a large pizza, one with his favorite toppings on it. Steak, mushrooms, onions, and two kinds of cheese, specifically provolone and American - strange and lengthy details, but ones you memorized, nonetheless. And after you set the box down, taking in another look of him, you turn to leave.
Eventually, the smell wakes him up. How could it not? It’s his absolute favorite thing to eat. But he has to be careful, he needs to keep himself in shape over these couple of weeks, or he’ll need more training than originally planned. Sighing, he props himself up, the realization now setting in.
She did this for me.
He knows it was you and not the boys because of the little note on top of the box.
Ghost,
I’m at a meeting until six tonight, I’m sorry I probably won’t be around when you wake up. Here’s some pizza to make up for it. Hopefully you still love me <3
Bones
He rolls his eyes at that last part, a smile pulling on the edges of his lips. You can be so sarcastic sometimes. But he likes it. You make him laugh.
While you’re gone, Simon thinks about the way you take care of him. You’re so gentle with him when changing his bandages and cleaning his wound. Your smaller hands touch him so softly that it makes him feel things for you. He wonders, is he just interested in you because you’re the only woman around? Or is he interested in you because you’re funny? Because you’re nice? It’s because you’re such a tender caretaker and you remind him of all the love he never got in life.
Looking back at the note, he reads it again. It sounds like you’d regretted leaving him, even for something as important as a medical staff meeting. Maybe you’ve been enjoying his company, too.
When night rolls around, you snuggle up on the couch, pulling the blanket you’d grabbed from your cot over your shoulders. Ghost just stares at you, one leg laying flat on his bed with the other up, the sole of his foot planted on the mattress.
“How the hell do you fit on that?”
Shrugging, you answer with, “It’s easy to fit in places when you’re not an enormous tank.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” Smirking, you can just barely see his eyes in the darkness. Those nearly black orbs find your own, and it makes your chest tighten. “I like the way you’re built.”
He chuckles, amused. “Yeah?” And then he reaches for a pack of cigarettes next to his bed, lifting the edge of his mask. “Why’s that, love?” That word makes the skin on your face burn.
You get a small flash of his face when he lights the end of his cig with a match, and you notice something you’ve never seen before.
“What’s that scar from?” It just comes out on its own. He knows you’re talking about the one on his jaw.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He points out, taking a puff. And for some reason, you find that so hot.
“I’ll answer it if you answer mine.”
Sometimes, you aggravate him. Sighing, he speaks through the darkness, telling you, “Fine.”
A sly grin crosses your face on the other side of the room, and you wonder if he can see it. He can.
“I like men with muscles.” And he likes that answer. “Makes me feel like they can take care of me.”
He exhales calmly into the nighttime air between the two of you, pressing his lips to the cigarette and then inhaling once again. Ghost knows he could take care of you.
And then he thinks about his own response, settling with, “It came from a knife.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “You gotta tell me more than that.”
Flicking the ashes of his cigarette into a tray, he lays back a little on the bed. “It was a mission in the Middle East. Bloody heat was killing me, I had to lift my mask up.”
Oh, wow. Honestly, you were just kidding. You never thought he’d actually tell you anything more. But you take this chance and run with it, listening intently so you don’t miss a single piece of his story.
“We were ambushed,” He continues, shaking his head. “Price never saw it coming.”
Truly, you can’t even imagine. Sure, you had your time in the field, but it was nothing compared to what he’s gone through.
“We took them out, but not before one of them got to me with a knife. Sliced up my jaw.” Ghost exhales a puff of smoke, watching it billow into the air. Then he gently shakes his head. “Didn’t let him get any further ‘n that.”
By the end of the story, his voice has grown flat. Maybe he doesn’t like thinking about his scars. Maybe it’s why he keeps the mask on.
“Could I… could I see?”
“My scar?” Comes his instant response. “What for?”
“I dunno,” Shrugging in the dimly lit light, you glance down at the floor. A timid gesture that he again sees.
After a moment of silence, he figures, what the hell? Having you be close to his face didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Besides, he likes getting a good look at you. Finishing off his cigarette and rubbing the butt of it down into the tray beside him, he says, “Why not?”
Looking up, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I don't have to. I don’t even know why I asked.”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Come over here, doll.”
Almost giddily, you do, shoving your blanket to the side and popping up onto your feet. He chuckles deeply upon seeing your reaction, watching you scamper over to him.
“You’re excited about this, huh?”
Shrugging, you grin, standing right next to his bed. “Maybe.”
You don’t give a single shit about his scar. You want to see him. Being close to Ghost gives you a good feeling.
Leaning over, you turn on your desk lamp, illuminating this corner of the room. And when you come back to him, you’re met with the incredible sight of his eyes. They’re dark brown in shade, but in the dim light, they're a dazzling pool of honey. But what really catches your eye is the lower half of his face. His mask is still pulled up, revealing his mouth, chin, and jaw.
“Can I touch?” You then ask, keeping your voice quiet.
He eyes you up and down while your gaze is fixated on his mouth. His lips curl, and he nods. “Sure.”
Lifting your hands, they fall to either side of his face. When you make contact with him, he closes his eyes, exhaling a slow breath, accepting your touch. He can’t remember the last time he let someone do this.
“Hm…” You don’t mean to, but you hum, fingers trailing along his jawline and chin. He has stubble here, just barely. It seems like when he’s crept away to the showers at night, he’s shaved.
Ghost’s eyes trail across your face, feeling your breath on his skin. You’re closer than you ever have been before, and it makes the muscles in his chest tighten, makes his pulse quicken. Licking his lower lip, he whispers, “How’s that feel?”
“Good.” You respond, nodding, your eyes not once leaving his mouth. “I like it.”
“Why’d you want to feel it?” He then wonders aloud, and he wishes you would look up at him. He wants to look into your sweet eyes. “Haven’t you seen enough scars in your lifetime?”
“I don’t really care about scars.”
What the hell?
Scrunching his brow, he then asks, “Then why the hell did you want to see mine?”
Now, you do look up into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you work up the nerve to say what’s floating through your mind. “Because it’s on you.”
Immediately, he swallows. His gaze falls to your mouth for the first time since you’ve been this close, flickering back and forth from your eyes to your now slightly parted lips. And all at once, he sits up a bit straighter, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in.
As if you’re expecting it, you melt into him, letting him press you to his body. The fingertips on his jaw slide along his cheeks as you move to fully hold his face in your hands, Ghost’s lips easily meeting your own. One large arm slides around your back, hand securing to your waist as he pulls you further into him.
Heartbeat pounding in your veins, you gasp quietly against him, molding your mouth to his as you return his enthusiasm. Your hands hold onto him tightly, sliding down to the back of his neck. But then he stops, releasing a rough sigh and opening his eyes to look at you.
“Come here,” He whispers hurriedly, his other hand reaching out and tugging on you.
“Ghost, I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” His lips are moving over your jaw, his hands still pulling on you.
“You’re healing.”
Scoffing, he leans over the side of the bed, hands securing themselves to your lower back and upper thigh. He then hauls you forward, leaning down so he can hoist you up onto his lap.
“Oh!”
“I go back into the field next week.” He grunts out, now looking up at you. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”
“Ghost, I -”
“You know my name?” He asks, his rough, baritone voice demanding your attention.
And suddenly, you feel extremely fucking small. Your legs slide forward and down, straddling him. Quietly, you squeak out, “Yes.”
“Say it.”
Leaning forward, you embrace the excitement of being on top of him. Your hands return to hold his face, and he lets you. Bringing yourself in close, you look into his eyes.
“Simon.”
“That’s right.” Comes his breathy exhale, leaning in to close the small gap between the two of you.
And then Simon’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing you further into him. His other lands on your hip, fingers curling around your flesh. He smells like cigarettes and cologne, tastes like mint and tobacco. And you overtly, eagerly, wholeheartedly, welcome him.
“Closer to me,” Simon grumbles, the hand on your hip curling around your lower back. He pulls you until you’re flush against his chest, your breasts pushing up against his clean bandages.
“Simon,”
He groans into your mouth when you use his name, repeatedly moving his lips over your own. Your legs press tightly to the outsides of his thighs, holding him close to your body. And when he feels your hips shift against him, when he hears your soft, delicate moan, he decides to slide his tongue into your mouth. He licks inside, rubbing the wet muscle over your own. Moaning wantonly, it echoes into his throat, the hand on your head sliding down to hold your jaw open. The way he moves against your mouth is almost overwhelming, full of passion and lust and a particular sense of need.
“You wanna take this off for me?” His accent is making you melt. “Can you do that for me, love?”
Tugging impatiently on your shirt, those frosty eyes look into your own with a look of utter desperation. But also control. Ghost was always in control.
Nodding, you reach down, finding the edges of your longsleeve shirt and slipping it up and over your head.
“Oh…” He moans - Ghost fucking moans. His head immediately dips down to the luscious space between your breasts, mouth finding your skin.
“Oh,” It comes as a complete surprise, him surging down to kiss you here. “Simon…”
Fuck, you’ve wanted to do this since you met him. You both have.
His mouth drags along the curves of your chest, and you’re surprised when they’re followed by tender kisses. And then his hands drop, groping your ass.
“I want you.” He growls against your breasts, nipping at the soft slopes of them. “What do you want, love?”
“I want you, Simon.” Nodding quickly, your hands slide back up to his face. In your hurried state you accidentally move the fabric of his mask just a bit, and his hands come flying up to your forearms as soon as it happens.
“Don’t take it off.” It’s a firm boundary, a stern warning. His head lifts, too, eyes staring menacingly into you.
“I wouldn’t, I won’t.” He looks at you almost skeptically. “I respect your privacy.”
When he doesn’t budge, you wiggle on top of him. “Please. Simon, I wouldn’t ever do that to you.”
Slowly, his hands leave your forearms, loosening their grasp. He’s deciding to trust you.
One of those meaty hands falls to your chest, still holding your gaze while he cups you. The other rises to your neck, fingers curling around the back to pull you in again. This time, though, he doesn’t return to your lips. This time, he goes to your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you let him, feeling Simon’s teeth scrape along your skin. He’s feeling every inch of you that he can, hands falling to your ass when he feels you move over him. With a firm grasp, he urges you forward and back, grinding your covered crotch over his own. And while he’s busy exploring you, you take this opportunity to explore him.
Delicately, your fingertips slide down his face, down the chorded muscles along his neck, landing on his sculpted shoulders and then moving to his biceps. When you squeeze the thick meat of his arms, he groans, smirking mischievously against you. With your nails scraping lightly over his taut skin, they quickly find his back, gently scratching him. His muscles are flexing, damn near all of them. He’s so worked up with you like this on top of him. And he’s still moving you, shoving your hips over his crotch and manhandling you in the softest way he knows how. He’s strong, but he’s gentle with you.
The length of him is palpable beneath his thin shorts, settling right into your covered folds. And it makes you moan, makes your breaths pick up and your center pulse. The air is thick with arousal, the room lit dimly in the soft, yellow hue of your small lamp. His breaths are hot, fanning across your face in humid and heavy wafts. But then he stops, taking a breath. And for some reason, your sass decides to fill this brief, empty space.
“So,” Sighing, you’re also working to catch your breath. “Does this mean you think I’m pretty?”
He chuckles, that beautiful smile making itself known. “Does this mean you like my muscles?”
“I love your muscles.” Wiggling even closer to him, you grin, sucking in a tight and excited breath. Your one hand then slides down his chest, his abs, curling around to hold his hip, your thumb just barely brushing his pelvis.
“Yeah? Even when you’re sewing ‘em up?” He asks, that deliciously rich accent making you flutter inside.
“You can’t do that again.” Shaking your head, your hands move to hold his face. It’s a tender act. “You can’t scare us like that again.”
That night, you swear you started to see the light fade out of his eyes, and that, well… that was a first for you. You saved Simon’s life.
“You care about me, eh?” He replies in the cockiest voice.
“Your team cares about you.” Eyes flickering down to the bandages on his chest, you then say, “And yeah, maybe I do, too.”
Simon’s body flexes beneath you, hips rutting up into your own. And now, it’s his turn to hold your face in his hands. He lifts your jaw, making you look at him.
“Hey, don’t worry about that now.”
“Are you okay?” Eyes darting back up to his, they’re filled with concern from the memories of that day. “With me sitting like this on you?”
He gives you a cocky grin. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me. I’m a big boy, remember?”
This makes you smirk, one hand finding its way to his pelvis with much more confidence than before. “Is that right?”
“That’s right.” He nods, keeping that gorgeous grin. “Think you wanna take it?”
Breathing out a small laugh, you give your head a single shake. “I never knew you wanted to fuck me so bad.”
“You never noticed the things I’ve said to you?”
“No, I noticed. I just thought… maybe it was harmless flirting.”
At this, his head tilts, eyes boring into your kind orbs. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me harmless in my entire life.”
“Yeah, you’re one scary motherfucker.” Leaning in to kiss him, he accepts it with a heated moan. “And I find that sexy as hell.”
“Well, you said you like fixing bones.” He’s feeling desperate for you at this point; it’s like you won’t stop teasing him “Hop on this one, then.”
“Oh my god, you really are like every other fucking guy.” But you’re already reaching for the bottom of your sports bra, slipping it off your torso in one go.
“God damn.” Large hands instantly return to your breasts, cupping and weighing your tits in his palms. His chest dips dramatically from releasing such a heavy breath, leaning in to kiss one of your delicate peaks. It’s firm and wet, the repeated press of his lips. And it wouldn’t be so overwhelming if he wasn’t practically making out with your tits.
Seeing your naked form for the first time sets his own alight. He always knew you were a sexy little thing, and now, he’s got first hand proof. Your curves look delicious, and if he weren’t in a tiny medical bed, he’d lay you down to lick them.
“You want me?” He doesn’t expect this sort of response, his surprise going tenfold when he feels you reach down between your bodies.
“Oh,” He releases a tight breath, feeling you run a finger over his erection.
Staring into your eyes, he gives you an almost predatory gaze. “You know I do.”
Easily, you slide your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your delicate sex to him, though he can only barely see it. And then you’re reaching down, fingers curling over the band of his shorts to pull him out. When you do, he releases a sound you’ve never heard from him before, his jaw hanging low. He’s long and firm, crimson at the head and already leaking. The pulsations rocking through his cock are, at this point, an almost painful sensation; and when you look down, you grin. Letting the length of him rest on his lower abdomen, you move yourself so you can slide your glistening lips over him.
Simon hisses at the contact, strong hands cementing themselves to your hips. But he doesn’t stop you from moving. If anything, he only encourages you to.
“You get off on this?” He suddenly asks, the feeling of your slippery center sliding against him making his head spin and his insides tense. “Fucking your superior?”
“Baby,” You laugh, shaking your head while continuing to move over him. “I’m on the med. team, you’re not my superior.” Taking a breath, you reach out, grabbing his jaw and lowering your voice to speak. “But you did get one thing right. I do want to fuck you.”
Before he can say anything, you’re lifting yourself, his throbbing tip prodding at your entrance. You hold his gaze, an unexpected moan drifting from your lips when you finally begin to feel him.
“Fuck,” He grits out, fingers digging into your sides and urging you down. “Come on, precious. You can take it.”
Sliding down only a few mere inches, you wince. Holding onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into his skin, scratching harshly at the firm muscles all along him. He’s bigger than you’d imagined him to be. His girth is wider than you’ve ever had, and when you reach down to feel him you quickly discover he also isn’t lacking in length.
His military voice then comes out, that stern, commanding tone. “Focus - hey, eyes on me.” Irises snapping up to his, you do as you’re told. “That’s a good girl.” Jesus Christ, you didn’t expect a single ounce of praise to come from him.
Simon’s dominant hand then slides down, the pad of his thumb finding the reddened nub at the peak of your sex. Your hips jolt when he presses the thick digit against you, but with his free hand on your back, he brings you in. He applies pressure, prompting you to lean on him, his mouth seeking out your nipples once again. Slipping his tongue out and over your skin, it forces you to whine, feeling your hips rock involuntarily against him. With the stimulation coming from his thumb and tongue, you find yourself relaxing, resting on the weight of him.
“Feels good, yeah?”
Your fingers find the back of his head, your own dropping back. “Yes…”
It’s overwhelming and sexy as all fucking hell. Simon can see the marks he’s left on your neck, shoulder and chest, and he grins, knowing they’ll be there in the morning even if he won’t be able to see them. He doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb, keeping the same amount of pressure as he swirls little circles over your sensitive clit. His mouth is sucking on you, too, his tongue running over your nipples in wet and passionate swipes. And altogether, it works like a charm, lubing you up enough for him to slide entirely inside.
“Simon.”
“You’ve got it, yeah… there we go…” The only hand that moves is the one that was touching your clit, fingers now attaching themselves to your hip once you’re entirely seated on him.
“Fuck me,” You’re clinging to his shoulders, both arms wrapping around his neck. He’s removed himself from your tits, resting his face in the slope of your shoulder, just beside your throat.
He’s searing hot and filling you completely, his tip seated deep in your guts as you pulse around him violently. And Simon’s aware of his size, so he waits for you to make the first move. And he snuggles into you while he does, resting in this brief lull.
Feeling another person surrounding his body like this brings out a sensation from the depths of his heart, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in genuine years, decades, even. He feels like he can relax in your embrace, like he can let go with you.
“Oh, god.” Head dropping back, you shift slightly, beginning to move.
“Yes,” He encourages you, reaching up to hold your neck. “That’s it.” And then he pulls, bringing you down to him. Your lips meet in a small clash, tongues colliding as soon as you make contact.
This entire event awakens something inside of you. It’s like he’s consuming you, taking over your body and every part of your mind. And you’ve felt like this for weeks, months; you’ve ached for him. At night you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, and during the day, you’ve dreamt about him. It was so hard to be in his presence, knowing you couldn’t have him, that he probably didn’t even want you in the first place. But he does; he wants you just as badly as you want him.
Simon sways his body with you, leaning back against the head of the bed. He uses this slight change in position as leverage to shove his hips up into you, giving you small and shallow thrusts. But he lets you do most of the work, grinning while admiring the way in which you find your pace.
“You’re a tight thing, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, eyes lowering to stare at the space where you’re repeatedly connecting. And then they furrow, mouth dropping open when he finally witnesses you lifting and lowering your hips. “And look how well you’re taking me…”
“You’re… so fucking big.” Lowering your head, you then offer a half smirk, shaking your head at him. “Guess you really do have reason to be cocky, huh?”
“Damn right, and I’m glad you know it.”
“Jesus - fuck!” The first word is said through a scoff, the second through a high yelp.
“You feel like makin’ fun of me again?” Simon then challenges, having lifted his feet and planted them directly on the edge of the bed. He uses this leverage to punch himself up into you, huffing out a sharp breath when he feels you fall onto his chest.
“Fuck, baby - I’m sorry.” You immediately lift yourself up, looking down at his bandages. “Are you alright?”
The fact that you’ve so easily been able to call him baby makes Simon smile, his teeth even showing for the first time that you’ve ever seen.
“You need to stop asking me that.” He says in that deeply, gritty tone. And then he shoves you forward again, knees high in the air as he lets you rest over his chest.
Your arms slide around his neck, clinging to him as he begins to shove himself up into you. Sucking in a deep breath, he grunts out beside your face, his arms wrapping around your naked torso. He’s starting to feel sweaty, sticky, his skin warm and glistening. And at this point he’s bouncing you on his cock, your ass slapping down onto his pelvis with every move. He let you have your fun; now, he’s fucking you.
“Oh my fucking god,” You’re trying desperately to keep up to move yourself back against him, but he doesn’t allow it. He’s punching the breath from your lungs, one hand sliding up your back to hold your head.
He lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you alright?”
“S-Shut up, Ghost.” Comes your stuttered response, now gasping from how deep he’s hitting.
“Uh-uh,” He tuts, “Say my name, sweetheart. Sounds so good comin’ outta that pretty little mouth.”
This makes you laugh, a small hiccup of a sound due to his intense movements beneath you. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, wanna hear you say it when we fuck.”
“Oh, so this is going to happen again?” You tease, feeling his groans vibrate through his chest. Jesus, he’s so sturdy.
Leaning forward, he grabs a fistful of your ass, growling into your ear, “I damn sure want it to.”
You take advantage of his closeness, turning your head to capture his lips. “You’re so fucking deep.”
“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He whispers in return against your lips.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
At this point, he’s panting beneath you, sliding down a little further on the bed. You move with him, still holding onto his firm body with a wild desperation. And he keeps your lips on him, shoving his tongue inside your mouth while keeping his brutal pace.
If you were dripping before it’s nothing compared to now. You’re leaking down his shaft, the creaminess of your arousal coating him entirely. And he can feel it; it’s making his eyes roll back into his head.
“You’re gonna make me cum, squeezin’ around me like that.”
One of your hands lowers, moving down to hold onto his bicep, and then his forearm. Turning your head to the side, you smile, ignoring his comment while you breathe out lightly, “I love your tattoos, baby.”
“You just love praisin’ me, don’t you?” In two seconds, that tattooed forearm rises, hand grabbing your face. “Bring those pretty eyes back to me.” And when you look into those endlessly deep eyes of his, he grits out sternly, “Eyes. On. Me.”
“Simon,” It’s a small whine, one uttered when you feel him strike gold inside. “Please make me cum.” Your head drops to his shoulder, and what he does neck surprises you. He kisses your fucking cheek.
“I can do that for you.”
As if things couldn’t become more intense, he takes it up a notch, ramming into you and forcing your face into the crook of his neck. His hand on the back of your head holds you there, and when you bite into his neck, he groans into the nighttime air.
“Yesss, baby, don’t stop. Oh my god, please don’t stop.” He’s so big beneath you, his muscles bulging against your naked chest. And he revels in the feeling of your soft tits pressing against him, your beautiful body bouncing as it gets fucked by him.
“Fuck me,” Comes his gasped out curse, muttering, “Such a good pussy.”
“Fu-uck,”
He’s pounding against that delicate spot that’s making you go dumb, your arms and thighs beginning to shake around him.
“G-Ghost, I’m…”
“Say my name, say it again.” His voice is deep and thick, stuttering a bit. “One more time for me.” His thighs are flexing beneath your ass, one arm wrapped around your back and the other gripping the flesh on your hip.
It’s overwhelming, the feeling shoving its way through your body, coursing through your veins. The excitement of it all is something you haven’t felt in too long of a time, if ever before. Swallowing, you gather yourself enough to do as he says, once again, uttering his name.
Immediately after, he’s cumming, hips breaking their pace and length throbbing inside you. His forceful shoves against your g-spot make you crumble above him, onto him, your body shaking. The way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he can do anything, makes him think you feel safe with him. And you do. The world could be crumbling and still, you’d cling to him, knowing he’d hold you in his arms.
Quivering limbs press against him, your body going a bit numb from the intensity of it all. Your center pulses around his girth, squeezing him tightly while you wash him in your arousal. You can feel his, too, the milky ropes shooting into you, and you revel in the fact that your body has made his feel this good. He’s breathing harshly beside you, pectorals flexing against your naked chest. You’ve never heard him groan so forcefully, not even when he’s out working. And that makes you smile, knowing you bring those noises out of him. A blissful smile crosses your face, body rolling in waves as you experience your own high above him.
“Fuck me,” His accent is thick, coating the shell of your ear. He’s petting at your hair, body beginning to slump down on the mattress beneath him. “You okay there, princess?”
You’re quiet, still trying desperately to find your breath. Swallowing, you nod, turning your head to kiss his throat, breathing heavily against him. And while his body relaxes, he holds yours above him, urging you to do the same.
“Maybe I should get hurt a little more often,” He looks over, pointer finger curling under your chin, gently lifting you to look at him. “If it means seein’ you.”
Part Two
#Jesus Christ#I need him#Simon baby I love you#I really do#you're my big beefy man#Simon Riley#Simon Riley x you#Simon Riley x reader#Simon Ghost Riley#Simon Ghost Riley x you#Simon Ghost Riley x reader#Simon Riley smut#Simon Ghost Riley smut#Ghost cod#Ghost Call of Duty
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 🔞 minors dni
~ asmodeus ; obey me
✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : Asmodeus’ thoughts run wild when he sees you dancing at a party
‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : asmo x fem!mc, smut, oral (fem receiving), major switch behaviour from asmo, consumption of alcohol, mentions of drugs and tobacco
‧₊˚ a / n : definitely did not expect Asmo to be the second character I’d write smut for but yeah, here’s this piece i was talking about in that poll ~
Everything was hazy in your eyes, your memory had gradually become short-termed. The beat of the bass through the speakers banging against your eardrums dictating the moves of your body. You were unaware of the time, but you did know you had danced with several people throughout the night. Your skin had felt sticky with sweat and spilled liquor at some point but that was now forgotten in the middle the clinking of demonus glasses and demons singing to the music. You drank more from your vodka glass bottle, which Asmo had been kind enough to bring to the party considering you couldn’t get drunk off demonus.
The avatar of lust had been staring at you for a while. Lost in the sea of bodies it had been difficult for the rest of the brothers to find you and hog you all to themselves, but Asmodeus had been very careful to keep you nearby. His honey eyes sliding from your alcohol-drenched shiny lips to your cleavage, making their way down to the skin tight black dress, the way it hugged your breasts, your waist, your thighs... the demon felt jealous. Maybe he should help you get rid of it, the fact that your dress was grasping your body and he wasn’t was unthinkable to him.
Asmodeus wasn’t one to daydream, he would usually just go for it. He saw someone he liked? He wouldn’t wait a heartbeat to bat his lashes, buy them a drink, flirt here and there, see how far could he take things without making use of his charming abilities. It was all a game to him, and if he performed well enough you bet he’d get a nice price at the end of the night. And right now, there was nothing in the three realms he wanted more than a prize coming from you, but he was just so mesmerized by the swaying of your hips that he couldn’t move. He thought about getting closer to you through the multitude and scent of minted tobacco, he’d pull you away from that group of nobodies you were dancing with. Bump into your body and blame it on the amount of people in the dance floor, hold you from your hips to keep you steady.
“You okay there, Mc? Don’t fall!” he’d smile, but he wouldn’t take his hands off, pressing you against him from your lower back.
He imagines you’d give in to him, because who wouldn’t? He had those hypnotizing eyes that could make you melt into his smooth arms, your hands would trail up to his neck. His mind could visualize so clearly the way you’d flutter your lashes to look up to him, your tongue would dart out and slide across your lower lip. Were you thirsty for more alcohol? Maybe for a taste of him? He for sure was thirsty of you. And he’d lean in to inhale your enticing scent from under your jawline, his breathing making you shiver in his arms. His fingers would try and find their way under your dress, but as soon as his fingertips had the chance to catch a graze of glory you’d hitch a breath and pull him from his shirt.
“Not here” your whisper tinged with mischief, his senses would get filled with that smell he knew oh so well: lust.
Sweet, intoxicating smell of sin that would make his head spin in delirium. So you’d make your way out of the crowd in each others arms, skin stuck on skin on such a dense atmosphere filled with narcotics and liquor no one would even notice the way the personification of lust would pull from your waist, tempting you into the pits of unmeasurable pleasure. He’d like to think he’d be leading a little lamb to join him in the point of no return but he knows you wouldn’t be such a sweet little innocent girl. Because he can picture you hanging around his neck like a diamond. And fuck, wasn’t he weak to such expensive and beautiful things.
Your eyes would pursue his until you’d find a dark empty room somewhere, you’d crush your lips onto his and he’d ram you against the wall. The taste of vodka in your tongue driving him mad, he’d accidentally scratch your arms and you’d let out a pained, erotic whine that would only fuel his desire for more. He could only imagine all the different sounds he could pull out that pretty mouth of yours. You’d bite his lips in search of more of that aphrodisiac venom dripping from his mouth and he’d give in so quickly, wishing for you to show him what you got planned for him. Your hands gripping his shoulders and pushing him to the floor, hovering over him and your knees at each side of his hips. He’d slide down the zipper of your dress only for you to sit up above him and slide it down your body. Amber eyes would revel in your beauty and feel like the world is in his arms. He’d be so impatient as to finally know what it would feel like to be yours, but oh wouldn’t he like to let you know what if feels like to be his too, the narcissism and desire fighting inside of him. So the demon would change his mind, quickly wrapping his arms around you and rolling to the side so he’d be the one on top. Getting rid of your clothes was conflicting to him, he wanted to do it slowly so he could really enjoy it, but he was just so bewitched by your panting that at that point any fabric was just an annoyance. He’d pin your wrists to the floor and taste your skin from your neck to your clavicles, enjoying every single bit of the shaky reactions of your body. His tongue would swirl around one of your nipples, and he’d set free one of your wrists to make sure he’d give fair attention to the other one. More whines would come tumbling down from your lips like a siren song, driving him crazy with every single note. But he wouldn’t linger, the moment your head would give in and softly hit the floor he’d move on, his hot breath trailing your feverish skin down to your sensitive spot. For a moment, he wouldn’t resist a bit of teasing, and he’d make sure you feel his breath hesitate. His name leaving your lips in an almost religious plead would make him chuckle, but he’d reward you for pronouncing his name in such a needy whimper, so his wet tongue would then slide across your folds, making the muscles of your belly tense and contract, a breathy and high pitched moan whistling out of your throat. Your fingers tugging from his champagne-coloured locks, his arms holding your thighs firmly in place, his tongue lapping unmercifully, your back arching and desperate moans echoing through the pitch dark room until you end up clawing at the floor and he can taste the flavour of your orgasm, drinking it up as if it were the demonus in his cup.
Oh, right, there was still demonus in his cup. And you were still there dancing with unknown demons. He shook his head to come back down to earth, careful not to let his thoughts drift along the curves of your dancing body again. He walked up to your group and pretended to accidentally bump into you.
“You okay there, Mc? Don’t fall!” his wide smile greeted you, and his hands on your hips made sure to keep you steady.
“Yeah, thanks” you giggled, your lashes fluttered upwards in search of his eyes.
Oh, he has such hypnotizing eyes you thought, almost melting into his arms.
#; belle after hours#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me shall we date#obey me swd#om! asmodeus#asmodeus obey me#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#asmodeus smut#asmodeus x reader#swd asmodeus#asmodeus x mc#asmodeus x y/n#asmodeus x you#asmo x mc#asmo x reader#asmo x you#asmo x y/n#obey me smut#obey me x reader
367 notes
·
View notes
Note
Tell me what philosophical thought experiment I should get really opinionated about: Doctor Mother
SEND ME A WILDBOW CHARACTER YOU LOVE. I WILL TELL YOU WHICH PHILOSOPHICAL THOUGHT EXPERIMENT YOU SHOULD GET REALLY OPINIONATED ABOUT (SLASH DEVELOP A PSYCHOSEXUAL FIXATION ON)
Well lets see. Cauldron is an interesting spin on the "secret society that controls the world" trope. The formulation it's working from is "cabal of important world leaders and their unseen puppet-masters who all worship an evil god/are alien invaders/are otherwise jewish coded because really all these conspiracies are just The Protocols with a new coat of paint hastily slapped on." Cauldron doesn't fully depart from this space; antisemetic conspiracy theorists from Terrats to Icke have had too much influence on the popular conception of secret societies for any derivation not to share some of that DNA. But it departs from it in some important ways: first of all, its remarkably small. It has a wide number of important people indebt to them, sure—but the number of people who actually know whats going on is what, five? Secondly, its members have almost nothing in common; certainly nothing to fit them in as a stand-in for a religious/ethnic minority. Thirdly, there's no narrative of good vs evil, no righteous undercurrent opposing a purely malicious group: most of the case 53s want Dr. Mother and her crew dead, but they're hardly positioned as righteous warriors of the light or anything by the text, and Cauldron's ultimate goals fall far short of the evil-for-evil's sake New World Order shtick.
Finally, while Cauldron is an incredibly major player with a hand in every major event in the world of parahumans, they are not proper masterminds: they're hypercompetent in their specializations for getting things to go their way, but they often either don't know why they're doing what they're doing or can't predict the effects of their actions. Nothing in the story could happen without them acting behind the scenes, but they're less the authors of what happened and more the people knocking over dominoes and hoping the rube-goldberg machine spits out something akin to what they wanted to happen. They can give people faustian bargans, but as Battery's case shows they don't always have the power to ensure the bargains are met. They can create disasters for their own ends, but they unleash disasters on accident nearly as often.
Doctor Mother represents this tendency more than any other member of Cauldron, lacking Contessa and Number Man's predictive abilities yet directing them and the Triumvirate to enact worldwide change. The least powerful member in literal terms, but for all that no other character is so directly behind the world events of earth Bet. She's almost more responsible for Earth Bet's divergences from the real world than Scion; everything comes back to her in some way. Doctor Mother moves, and the world moves with her.
All that to say, Doctor Mother stands stans want to fuck The Unmoved Mover from Aristotle's Metaphysics!
(Other answers here)
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
✨🎧🌆ROTTMNT DONATELLO HEADCANONS🌆🎧✨
made by me! candy! :3 no major spoilers
A quick guide!✨
💜 - Supported by canon (things that are pretty sure out there, maybe not confirmed 100% but yeah)
❤ - Kind of supported by canon (things that happened in the series that miiiight lead to some other stuff)
🧡 - My source is that I made it the fuck up (still trying to fit it into the character tho)
⭐ - Not sure if I'm taking this headcanon or not, but I do think It's pretty neat
💋 - Kinky! DISCLAIMER: Ive always seen the rottmnt boys (and April) in the age group from 17 to 19 and thats what I headcanon them as (as it is my own age group!). Ive seen the show and was fucking sure theyre my age and then a month or two later I was slapped in the face with thier actual age lol. I dont support any pedo shit, I also dont think minors can consent. Just putting it out there
Lets go!🌆💜🎧⭐✨
The 'Tism
• 💜 I think Its pretty fucking obvious that this boy is autistic, pretty much everything in the show supports this.
• ❤ Donny's headgear also works as noise cancelling headphones! He's often overwhelmed by background sounds and his gear makes it easier for him to live his life (either on missions or just spending time with his brothers and/or April). He still loves blasting his music on the highest volume tho. It's different when you consent to hearing your jams then when several people are talking at once and youre going crazy.
Tagging as kind of canon because he might have audio sensory issues because of his autism and you can reraly see him without the damn googles.
Different stims
❤ Foot stomping
❤ Hand flapping
🧡 Repeating a song/part of song over and over (yes, even if it has no words)
❤ Spinning on chairs
🧡 Pacing around the lab/the lair
• 💜 He knows ASL! Though It's never said in the show why he learned it, I believe that because he goes nonverbal often. Everyone in the lair can sign a bit because of that, but not everybody is too good at it. Donatello can communicate in ASL fluently.
Gender
• 🧡 Donatello never really felt connected to being "a men" and categorising things as "for boys" and "for girls" always seemed dumb to him. Shortly after Leo's coming out as a trans men (SURPRISE LEO HEADCANON) he went to talk to him about his gender experience. After some thinking and digging, Don came to the conclusion that he is in fact nonbinary. He still uses mostly male pronounces but always appreciates gender neutral pronounces coming his way.
Sexuality
• 🧡 While realising his own gender he also figured out that he doesn't really sees gender that seriously in others either. Men or women, its pretty much whatever to him. He doesn't like to label himself much when it comes to his sexuality, he accepts reffering to him as a pansexual or bisexual.
• 🧡 When it comes to dating Donatello doesn't imagine himself with anyone, really. He finds himself attractive, but doesn't think anyone would fancy him in a romantic way. He's not interessted much in dating either way. But he doesn't exclude dating someone in the future. It's just he won't go out of his way to look for love.
• ❤/🧡 Its obvious Don is a men of science, he's a genius when it comes to coding, math, engineering, I would say chemistry as well. Thats the field he feels the most comfortable in, but he loves learning new things in general. As long as there is interesting knowledge he can obtain, he will be there, soaking it like a sponge. He likes listening to info dumps, and probably listens to long ass video essays and/or podcasts.
• 🧡 Don likes to learn about others people hobbys and takes interest in learning about it. He likes showing others that he cares about something, even though Its something totally indifferent to him. For example, he knows lot about art making process from Mikey (Angelo even made him paint with him a couple of times!) even tho he doesn't really likes drawing and/or famous artists. No many people appreciate his work so he wants to show his appreciation to others.
• 💜 He is pretty low empathy most of the time. It's hard for him to relate to others, and can often feel like someone is overreacting. It's also challenging for him to put his feelings "out there". Which often makes him look unloving or unfriendly. And it couldn't be farther from the truth. He loves his brothers even though they bother him most of the time. And he loves April as well (though she never really troubled him much). He never really thinks that his low empathy is a flaw (more often he thinks about it as a blessing) but there rare are moment when he feels helpless because of it. He is glad that his family knows that he truly cares about them (and accepts any effort he puts in to express his feelings, even if it seems small).
• 🧡⭐ I've seen people headcanoning Donny as a baker and honestly I like it a lot. Cooking is Mikeys domain, and it suits him well, as it allows a lot of freestyling and just overall feeling. Baking and pastry making is very calculated and one miatake can ruin the whole thing. It reminds Don of engineering in a sense. Also baking is an easy way to get love and appreciation from his family because, cmon, he just made the most angelic fruit tarts in the whole universe, of course they're going to praise him. It also works as a stress relief. When feeling stumped and/or overwhelmed over a project or a situation he'll make something easy like brownies to get his mind of it.
• 🧡 He's very sentimental. He loves receiving gifts and will cherish and use them (even if he doesn't like it). He still has every "gamers dont die they respawn" Tshirt and every "dont fuck with my brother he was born in october and has autism" mug. Sometimes he REALLY wants to throw something away but god damn it this is painting Mikey did when he was ten and is just five splats of paint and thinking about him somehow finding out and crying about it might destroy him forever.
• 🧡⭐ This bitch reads fanfics, thats it. It started when he was around 13 or smth with Atomic Lass x Reader and now he knows all the fanfic lingo. He still might read something from time to time and writes very long and well written comments (with constructive criticism).
• 🧡 Speaking of which, Don writes perfect sentences while texting. All the correct spelling and punctuation. He also communicates with emojis and gifs like a millenial.
Food, TW: drinking!
• 🧡 He has a rather strong head, you cant make him drunk that easily. But when it finally happens, youre in for a ride. Shutting him up is near impossible, he will talk non-stop but with much less eloquence then while sober. Its extremely easy to make him laugh, so Leo absolutely loves it. He often looses track of what hes saying and starts completely different rant. Overall a chaotic mess. Really fun to witness it at least once. His beverage of choice is either fun cocktails or beer (tho rarely and/or only with some kind of juice because he doesn't like the fizziness on his tongue).
• 🧡 And that takes us to Donatello that hates fizzy drinks. He hates carbonated beverages, no matter if its cola or champagne. The feeling on his tongue and in his mouth makes him really uncomfortable. When there is no other choice but to drink up some bubbless, he leaves it open for as long as he can to get rid of them. His brothers despise him for that.
• 🧡 He doesn't like weird food combos either and is rather picky. When ordering food Don sticks to what he knows not to risk an uncomfortable texture touching his mouth. Texture is the most often reason for him not liking a specific food. Donnys pretty strict to preparing food as well (the way he does a thing is The Correct Way and no other exception is acceptable). Also he puts milk first so his cereal doesn't get soggy.
• 🧡 I feel like he likes fruit juices in boxes and fruit mousses but this is pretty random 🤷
• ❤/🧡 He wears contacts! We've seen little Donny with glassess, so I assumed he wears contacts now. When he knows he will be spending all day in the lair (for example because of an injury) he still has a pair of glassess he uses. And yes, he tapes them to the head. Because he rarely ever wears them, he never came up with a solution for not having ears and needing glassess.
• 🧡 ABSOLUTELY hates smoking. Will go on a rant if he sees someone he knows smoking. He absolutely despises the smell and WILL take it out of someones mouth/hand and throw it away. Appreciates the fun smells of vapes but still hates them. Will call vapers losers (maybe not exacly in these words but he will for sure).
• 🧡 Really good at makeup, but not as good as Leo is (ANOTHER SURPRISE LEO HEADCANON). He spend years perfecting his eyebrows of course. He also wears eyeliner because serving cunt is important even on the battlefield. From time to time you can see his nails painted as well.
• 🧡⭐ While being flustered or simply distracted he stutters a lot, mostly in a way of repeating whole words or parts of a sentence ("Its good because- Its good- Its good because I um- Its good-")
• 🧡 Enjoys taking very long baths, and actually prefers them much more then showers. Can stay underwater for a rather long time as well!! Being fully submerged calms him down a lot and its overall very relaxing for him.
• 🧡⭐ Ive seen a lot of takes that without his battle shell, he is really flexible (due to having a soft shell). And I like the idea. I think, that before sitting infront of a screen (or a desk in general) to do his work for several hours he stretches deeply so his back won't be so sore later. Also a reason to draw Donny in yoga poses and thats always cool.
• ❤ Makes up shit to fuck with his brothers. Like just spreading misinformation and gaslighting them for shit and giggles. Or to get them to leave him alone for a while. Also will gaslight them if they somehow find out that he was lying ("what? you must have heard me wrong then 🙄💅")
• 💜/❤ Loves singing and dancing!!! Aint the best singer (tho I love his songs in the show Im kissing him as we speak) but is a gorgeous dancer! He finds it incredibly fun and feels fabulous while doing it. Also Im pretty sure dancing counts as stimming so add it to the list. Dances solo like 90% of the time but really enjoys dancing in pairs (dances with April a whole lot when they get the chance!).
• ❤ He rarely laughs out loud, but when he does it is loud and messy. A good joke can make him think about it all day and continue laughing for a long time. Not my og take, Ive seen this headcanon before and I love it so so much :3
• 🧡 From all his brothers, he kind of wishes to be human the most of them all. Its not a big big wish, he does think of himself as very unique individual and takes pride of being a mutant. But sometimes while hanging out with April he can get lost in his thoughts of "what ifs". Maybe in the process of making a cloaking accessory.
• 🧡 His handwriting is god-awful. All scribly and fucked up like Doctors writing. Unfamiliar eye would not decipher a word out of it, but Don knows exactly what everything means. But he mostly writes digitally.
• ❤ Dons dislike of hugging is canon, but I do believe he likes being touched on his head and face (head pats, cheek rubs, scratches). He enjoys hand holding when it's appropriate as well.
• 💋 Im headcanoning the boys to go through mating season once a year (except mikey cuz he small) everyone at a different time. It would be similiar to an ovulation but much more horny (with also fever symptoms). Don would be the second after Raph to get it. While in heat he doesn't go feral or anything, but after a few days stops working because he cant focus on his craft. Waves of sudden temperature changes (mostly high heat) with really horny thoughts and hypersensitivity to pretty much everything...yeah not the best work environment. He spends his most intensive days closed off in his lab or room because he really doesn't want his family to see him like this (the rest of the turtles are in thier rooms during thier mating time as well for the same reason). Also add being possessive while having a SO, and also veeery easy to irritate.
• 💋 Donny takes on a more submissive role while being intimate, even though he loves to be in charge all the time. But he isn't a bottom either, I would put him perfectly in the middle as a switch (more leaning on that sub part tho).
• 💋 His biggest turn on is smell. Like someones natural smell, no perfumes and all. He likes to snuggle in the crook of the neck and take it all in. This becomes cranked up to eleven during mating season, as he absolutely cannot stop sniffing. Would love his significant other to leave him clothes with thier smell on it and sleep and/or snuggle with it.
Might add more later but thats all for now :3💜
Hope you enjoyed it⭐✨
#If you think Ive misrepresented him or something is clashing with canon let me know#going to make Leo headcanons soon cuz I have a lot I love him#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt#rottmnt donnie#tmnt#donatello#text#rise donnie#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#donatello headcanons#headcanons#donnie headcanons#rottmnt headcanons#tmnt 2018#rottmnt donatello#writing#rise donatello#rise headcanons
46 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oh, I so agree with you about the lack of Terry in promos being... unsatisfying. So many things they're playing with this season were set in motion by Terry. Terry mentioned Kim Sung Young first, who they now have cast. Terry wanted to go to the Sekai Taikai. Terry introduced Kim Da Eun. If they can get Kreese out of prison with a box of Jell-o, no way can they keep Terry in jail for more than three hours. If he can spin heading Dynatox into being a green philantropist, he can doctor this. If Kenny still has a major part to play, well who mentored him?
I could have understood it if they wanted to shift away from the Terry storyline and focus on what the show started as, reclaiming your life through karate. But then, it would have made much more sense to keep Kreese in prison, send Chozen and Da Eun home, and not focus so much on Tang Soo Do. But if they're setting that legacy up as the überthreat, it makes no sense for Terry not to be involved. The Sekai Taikai was his baby, moreso than Cobra Kai, even. Maybe the CK brand has been compromised, but so what? Hearsay. Simply rebrand.
Terry completely revitalised a show that had milked everything out of Johnny-Kreese there was to milk, keeps shying away from consequences with Robby and Miguel and would never give Sam and Tory the gay awakening that drives them. To dump him and keep Chozen and Da Eun around makes no damn sense!
Exactly. Precisely.
Terry Silver is the lifeblood that keeps this show running.
Because what else is there to do with this plot?
A lot of storylines got tragically milked to completion seasons ago.
And I don't think for the life of me Da Eun, who quite literally got flown into the plot during the penultimate mid-season is a strong enough character to be the end all-be all final boss villain. She doesn't have the charisma to pull what Thomas Ian Griffith pulled in TKK3. She was just introduced pretty much last minute and our attachment to her is at best nonexistent to miniscule with her only connection to anything going on in the plot at all is through Kreese, Silver and their mutual history with the sport. In the plot itself, girl even seemed like she was begrudgingly in the States in the first place and had to be talked into staying by Terry. To carry the whole endgame conclusion of this show and well over forty years of lore between the characters as the ultimate bad guy? Yeah, nope. Don't see it. There's just no development there. No meat.
As you said. It makes no damn sense.
And I will be in the minority here, which is entirely alright for me, but I really have an abject allergy for fan concoctions like brining back Julie Pierce in Season 6 or having Chozen and Da Eun have a showdown to fill in plot gaps. Shoehorning in Julie Pierce for a random, out of nowhere cameo when the one attachment she had to the plot was vaguely through a character dead for well over forty years just so she could tutor female character x and y for a short period of time is unnecessary at this late stage and I don't think Chozen and Da Eun warrant enough stakes to suddenly become mortal foes that take up space like that in the last season, but hey, that's just me; like, where are these rivalries even coming from? They met like yesterday. Do you two even know each other's full names!? Like!?
Terry Silver, John Kreese and the Sekai Tekai are sole the points of interest left.
After all, show's called Cobra Kai and they are Cobra Kai.
#funnily enough your post gives me hope#that there's no way tig could be left out#and i thank you for that#cobra kai#cobra kai season 6#terry silver
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
Buy van u imagian how a absolutely feral he would go if you hold Eye contact the entiere time. Even before you touch him. You push him back onto his bed -he does the little bouncy bounce and the you hold the eye contact while popping ypur jeans open. While you shrug off his vest. When you open your bra and step towards him... 👀👀👀
This is 2k worth of filth. I'm not sorry.
Steve x fem!Reader | Giving Steve a blowjob. That's it. That's the tweet. (Not too graphic, still smut. Minors DNI, no one under 18!)
Steve was, usually, the one to initiate physical contact. There was no lack of desire on your part, no shyness - a little over a year with Steve Harrington and ‘shy’ was a concept long forgotten. He just tended to reach for you first; wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in close, press his mouth to yours in a heated kiss, slip a warm hand beneath the hem of your skirt.
You joked that he was a natural leader. He wasn’t dominant, not in the way those men in cheesy movies hidden in the back of Family Video were, just confident, forward, content to take the reins and guide you. It had been necessary at first - Steve would always remain secretly delighted that he was your first everything, almost grateful that he’d been the first to witness the beauty of you falling apart at another’s hand - and remained comfortable.
It made sense, then, for his brows to wing up in surprise when you pressed him to the nearest wall the moment he stepped into your empty home. Soft hands instantly found your hips, fingers digging into the rough denim, as his lips parted to ask what had gotten into you. Before he could, however, you cupped his cheeks and stepped forward in search of a kiss.
Instantly, Steve’s surprise faded.
Warm lips, slightly chapped and tasting of mint gum, met yours as he used his grip to pull you in closer. This close, the heat rolling off of him, combined with the scent of his shampoo and cologne, made your head spin and mollified the lust that had been brewing in the pit of your stomach for the majority of the day.
A dream sparked the blaze - a wonderful scene in which Steve reclined in bed, arm behind his head and eyes half-lidded as you wrapped your lips around him - and you’d been suffering, dreadfully warm, the entire day. Now, with Steve in your grasp, you were determined to fan the flames. There was a dull ache in your chest, an overwhelming want, and only one way to satisfy it.
Steve’s eyes blinked open lazily the moment you pulled away, warm brown blown black and glassy. His lips parted, shiny with spit, and you dove in for one final peck - a quick press of your mouth to his, noses brushing and fingers grazing the tops of his cheeks - before pulling away, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, and tugging.
Almost in a daze, Steve willingly followed you down the hall to your bedroom - stumbled past the kitchen, the dining room where he’d sat for dinner with you and your parents just the night before. He stepped into your bedroom, crossed the threshold with a knowing grin that made your heart skip, and turned obligingly as you placed your hands on his shoulders.
“Not that I don’t love this,” he began, eyes searching yours, “but who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”
His amusement was not lost on you, nor was the heat simmering beneath his good-natured smile. The question nearly made you bashful, almost reminded you of how out of character this seemed, but the ache between your thighs erased any semblance of modesty. “I had a dream,” you confessed, lashes fluttering as you waited for him to realize. “About you.”
“A dream about - oh.” Steve’s grin turned blinding - the cat who got the canary - as his hands returned to your hips. The insistent press of his fingers, so warm against your already burning skin, made you sigh as he tilted his head. “What was I doing in this dream, sweetheart? I think it’s vitally important we talk about these things. Healthy communication and all, you know?”
Steve’s grin distracted you for a brief moment, gave the question time to simmer, as the most pleasant warmth bloomed in your belly. The way that he looked at you never ceased to amaze you - warm, proud, reverent - and you couldn’t help but step forward to brand your lips across his throat.
“Nothing,” you explained, lips curving into a grin at his confused hum. “You were lying in bed. I was doing all the work.” As you nipped at his throat, teeth scraping the sensitive skin at the juncture of his shoulder, Steve’s fingers dug into your hips. The stutter in his breathing, a sharp inhale as your tongue swiped over the red mark left in your wake, answered your question before you could pull away, look him in the eye, and ask. “I really want to blow you. Can I?”
“Jesus Christ.” Steve swore, a low sound that made you grin - a victorious little quirk of your lips - as you began walking him back to your bed. “You can do whatever you want, baby, I’m all yours.”
With his permission, you pried his hands from your waist and pressed your fingers to his chest. His eyes blazed with want, desperate to feel you - your hands, your mouth, your cunt - as he fell to the mattress and bounced into place.
A quick once-over told you everything you needed to know - the way his chest rose and fell a little faster than normal, the way his tongue continually darted out to wet his bottom lip, the bulge making his already tight jeans that much more snug - and you could feel the ache in your center growing stronger by the second.
Steve’s heated stare made you feel like the most desirable person on the planet, something to be coveted, as you reached for the hem of the shirt - his shirt - you wore. While his eyes flitted between your face and your hands, moving slowly to bunch the fabric up your torso, you kept your eyes on his.
As the fabric fell to the floor, Steve shifted - adjusted himself in his jeans, hissed at the feeling of his hand palming his aching cock - and you took that as a sign to move a little faster. With his attention firmly on you, you popped the button on your shorts and shoved them down your thighs.
“I’m gonna cream in my jeans before you even touch me, holy shit.” Steve laughed, a weak sound that shot straight to your dripping cunt, as his gaze focused on the dark patch blooming on your panties. “Thinking about blowing me has you this wet?” Though tinged with a healthy dose of confidence - a little smug, a little self-assured - a pinprick of insecurity bled through the question.
He sometimes forgot, sometimes lost sight of just how much you loved him - just how desperately you wanted him - and you were determined to remind him.
With a flick of your fingers, you popped the clasp on your bra and dropped the fabric to the floor - tossed into the pile. “Everything about you has me this wet.” His eyes tracked your form as you crossed the short distance between you, followed your figure as you sank to your knees between his spread thighs. “You’re so pretty, Stevie. I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
Steve helped you make quick work of his clothing - fingers gripping the collar of his polo to tug it up, over his head; hands clumsily joining yours to pop the button on his jeans and shuck them down his thighs - before leaning his weight onto one hand.
The look in his eyes was unlike any you’d seen from him before, something wilder - darker, warmer - than the usual fondness that glittered there. It set your skin alight, had flames lapping at your sweat slick skin, and made you that much more eager as your hands fell to his thighs.
His muscles tensed beneath your touch, thighs flexed as your fingers pressed to warm skin, and you sighed as you shuffled closer. Steve swallowed harshly, blinked down at you, and swore. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky? You look so pretty like this, baby.”
As his question lingered in the air, you shifted one hand to wrap around his cock. Your fingers wrapped around the base, grip exactly as he’d taught you, as you leaned down to trace the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue. Steve exhaled heavily - a low, punched out sound - as he lifted one hand to the back of your head.
The fire in his eyes spurred you on, had you tilting your head to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, and you swore the sound that escaped his lips would be burned into your memory forever.
Steve’s head tipped back the moment you took him into your mouth, Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed, and you whimpered at the sight of him. It filled your chest with a gooey warmth, something a little too soft for the moment, but you didn’t dwell as you focused on the sight of him.
Soft brown locks fell into his eyes, hair falling from the perfectly coiffed style, and you swore he looked best like this - a little softer, a little more relaxed. His chest rose and fell rapidly, lips parted with quiet groans spilling past, and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as you took it all in.
The dream had made you desperate, the little fantasies that lingered in your brain throughout the day overwhelmed you, and you didn’t think twice as you slipped your hand between your thighs. As you pressed a tentative finger to your clit, thumb rubbing the oversensitive bundle of nerves, another moan escaped and drew Steve’s attention.
“Holy shit. Are you touching yourself?” Steve’s voice, a rough gasp, rang in your ears as the hand on the back of your head twitched - pressed you in closer. “Fuck, you’re trying to kill me.”
You dipped your head lower in answer, shot him the brightest smile you could manage as you took as much of him as you could into your mouth. The little noises Steve made, soft groans, hushed moans, stoked the flames and you could tell that he wouldn’t last long as your eyes flickered back to his.
“Stevie,” you cooed, voice a soft whisper as your hand stroked his spit slick length, “come for me. Please?”
The prettiest pout in your arsenal, a fluttering of your lashes, had Steve swearing. His grip on you tightened, fingers pressing a little harder, as his hips stuttered. You could feel the throb of him, the way his thigh tensed beneath your grip; saw the way his stomach flexed, the way his lips parted and eyes fluttered shut. Only a moment later, Steve came with a cry of your name.
As you swallowed his release, tongue kitten licking the tip of his cock when you pulled away, Steve’s chest heaved with the effort of catching his breath. Your fingers dragged lazily along his thigh, brushed the dark trail of hair just beneath his belly button, and you giggled as he lifted his head just enough to shoot you a withering look.
“You’re terrible,” he accused mildly, voice wrecked and lips kiss swollen. The giddy smile that soon split his lips evaporated any heat left in the accusation and you grinned.
“The absolute worst.” Your agreement was easy, ready, as he reached out for you - gentle but quick to tug you onto the mattress. “But what’re you gonna do about it?”
“How about I repay the favor?” Steve shifted, shuffled you onto the center of the mattress, and smirked as his fingers traced the elastic band at your waist, sending a shiver down your spine. “Can’t have you doing all the work.”
“That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of you,” you agreed, doing nothing to hide your anticipation. “Do your worst, Harrington.”
With a grin, Steve surged forward, eager to remind you just what you were getting yourself into and, suddenly, you were grateful for heated dreams and surges of confidence.
_______________
a/n: ....I can't help myself. I'm going feral for Steve. My inbox is closed but I have no willpower, do with that what you will.
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things imagine#v's blurbs
516 notes
·
View notes
Text
Disco Elysium Review: REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - "Uhm... Uh..."
wow hey that's not yakuza is it wowzers wowza
Yeah the game was like, really really really good so I really wanted to write something about it. Haven't done anything in a while I have to be honest so that's another reason for me to thank this game. Thank you, game
This review contains MINOR SPOILERS (but they're all out of context so honestly uhhhh you should be fine)
Reviewed on May 29, 2024. Last completed on May 26, 2023
Completed on PC
Rating: 10/10 (5 Stars)
Disco Elysium fans be like: "Oh, damn! Good thing I stocked up on healing items and quicksaved earlier! There's a really tough paragraph ahead!"
It's me. I'm Disco Elysium fans.
It's hard for me to try to properly put into words how much I adore everything about this game. Every little detail, every single aspect, each and every one of those 1.2 million words in the script combine to grab you by the hand and wisp you away into its world.
This game's writing is seriously just something else. It's beautiful when it needs to be. Disturbing and haunting at times. Its comedic timing is perfect when it wants to. It's utterly heartbreaking when the time comes. The characters are all memorable, with even the seemingly insignificant side characters carrying with them bottomless depth. The amnesiac we play as oozes personality out of every alcohol-stained crevice, and carries himself through no matter which path you decide to take. Your inner monologue with your "stats" talking to you was a stroke of genius, and it does so much to inject life into every little thing you do. From hyping you up to sing karaoke, to telling you to lick spilled spirits on a table, to composing yourself to take a vital shot at an adversary, to trying to convince an old war vet to surrender their sandwich. Every little thing you do is painted before your very eyes, and you get to appreciate all of its stunning writing even more with the whole experience being fully voice-acted. Seriously, the prose in here is insane. Really inspires an idiot hobbyist like me.
And haha yeah I really enjoyed playing through this book alright alright, but I really must stress that Disco Elysium makes FULL use out of the game portion of "Computer Role Playing Game". The gameplay elements do an amazing job of bringing everything together. Your skills dictate which ones influence you the most, and which ones you're gonna hear from, further influenced by whatever ridiculous outfit you end up wearing. Not only is the skill system a great way to illustrate to the player their skills returning to them after the whole amnesia thing, but this does a lot to separate each playthrough from the last. One playthrough you'll have Encyclopedia inform you on some awesome fun facts about the chair you're sitting on, as you make use of Drama to crack open the man you're interviewing like a can. In the very next, you'll have Half-Light tell you to sucker punch a child who called you a homophobic slur. You experience the lives of almost entirely different men every time you hit "NEW GAME", despite most of the major points of the story remaining the same (and obviously the fact that you're still playing the same actual guy). But the biggest strength of the gameplay is how expertly it weaves everything together. It feels like even the smallest, most insignificant of checks will come back later to influence your next course of action. Lifted some weights in front of your partner to maybe show off a little earlier? Now you get a +2 advantage on your roll if you want to do a 360 spin kick on the head of a beefed-up racist guard. Messed up a pickup line really badly on a girl you met just after waking up? Ah, that's gonna be a -2 when you're trying to keep yourself composed when her name happens to get thrown in during an interrogation. The game will remember everything you say and do, no matter how insignificant it may seem at first. Even your check fails can open up new paths for you to take. I found myself not save-scumming as often as I thought I would, simply because messing things up would sometimes give me much funnier results than if I just succeeded as normal. I didn't find myself doing what I did for some arbitrary good or bad ending to aim for, I found myself doing what I felt like I would do. No, I found myself doing everything based on what I felt like my character would do, which might be the ultimate win for any RPG.
Most of all, Disco Elysium is a deeply human experience. This isn't a power fantasy where you play some untouchable god amongst men, you play as a broken, alcoholic man who drank so hard he can't remember what money is. Even with your physical skills as high as you can make them, the game makes it abundantly clear that you're still out of shape. Even if you're playing the whole thing sober, its characters still point out that you've downed barrels before and that you could probably break at a moment's notice. Even with Composure and Volition in your corner, keeping you up and letting you open your eyes every morning, you'll still get your heart broken again and again as memories start to resurface. And I love how the side cases never feel like lower-effort detours, but rather supplement your character, like you're simply walking through life. At one moment you'll be talking to your distractingly gaudy tie, and the next you'll try to talk a guy who yells "HARD-CORE!" at the top of his lungs whenever you approach him into becoming a communist. One second you'll repeat the same sentence over and over in front of an important ambassador like a broken record as your skills try to get you working normally again, and the next you'll try your best to tell a woman her husband's been found dead. And this game isn't afraid to get ugly: there are some downright horrific things showcased in its plot.
But after all of it, you get back up again. Your partner extends a hand to you. You put the bottle down and stretch your arms. Despite everything that's been thrown at you, every thought that's raced through your head, every rock thrown at your body, you keep living. It's a new day, and you've got a damn case to solve.
Sunrise, Parabellum.
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you have any webcomic recommendations that aren’t on king hiatus’s right now? I found 4 comics that all stopped updating in 2020.
Plenty! Here's a few faves!
Girl Genius, a steampunk mad science adventure webcomic that consistently updates three times a week. Main character is a young mad genius, the lost heir to two powerful families of mad geniuses currently caught in a love triangle with two other heirs to different powerful families of mad geniuses. There are a lot of death rays and corsets. It also has about two decades worth of backlog archive and a really consistently well-plotted story - it's one of those webcomics that started off as a legitimate printed piece before the creators decided this newfangled "internet" thing would be a better, less complicated form of distribution. Unironically a gold standard I hold myself and other webcomics to.
Kill Six Billion Demons, a gorgeously illustrated emotional rollercoaster of an otherworld fantasy adventure. Hapless self-loathing main character ends up with the ultimate macguffin embedded in her forehead and things go downhill from there. A much bloodier tone than I tend to go for, but really well executed and going in interesting directions. Also done by the artist for the Lancer game, and the visuals are very striking. Updates regularly!
Sleepless Domain, a magical girl webcomic spinning a very intriguing overarching mystery. Updates mostly biweekly. Warning, the first couple chapters are a serious emotional hump to get over, and everything since then has basically been consequences of the shit that goes down there. It hits some major tragic lows, but it also has a lot of sweet and funny moments to balance it out!
Friendship Is Dragons, a webcomic with what I would classify as "niche appeal" that happens to appeal directly to me. It's one of a few webcomics with the premise "what if this piece of media was a game of D&D", but the media in question is My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic. It's very cute with some actually interesting insights into TTRPG etiquette and diverse playstyles!
Tiger, Tiger, a pseudo-historical fantasy adventure with a Twelfth-Night-style premise of crossdressing love-triangle shenanigans (sheltered young woman takes her brother's identity and fully-staffed naval vessel to pursue her life's ambition of studying sea sponges and not getting married, learns along the way that her brother is very repressed and in love with the man he arranged her future marriage with) and the minor detail that a primary character and implied future love interest for the heroine is basically What If Cthulhu Was A Lesbian.
The Glass Scientists, a relatively recent addition to my pile - a different steampunk mad science webcomic with a core narrative that's basically a retelling of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, enhanced by an extremely large and colorful cast of other characters and the strong indication that the "dark and hellish impulses" Doctor Jekyll externalized into Mister Hyde are just gay thoughts. Very colorful and energetic art style, and it slides between cartoon comedy and deep emotional impacts very smoothly. Plus, updates every week!
316 notes
·
View notes
Note
Also a very minor throwaway part of that post but it annoys me so much that line “not sexist like the water tribe” like I cannot Stand when ppl act like the FN is actually superior in that regard bc they allow women on the frontlines of their imperial death machine … (tho ig it could fit w like. what you were talking about like how western countries like to brag about how they’re so much more progressive when they’re not- like ig the FN could try and spin things that way? but ugh)
(sorry, you don’t have to answer this i just got annoyed lol)
no i thought about this too because even if you see allowing women in the military as the pinnacle of equality, if you actually look there aren't many (if any at all) female soldiers when the gaang runs into fire nation troops in the earth kingdom, you mostly only see them in the fire nation domestic forces and as prison guards at boiling rock and iroh's prison. and they're wearing skimpy midriff-baring uniforms. the artbook even says that women make up a majority of the domestic forces. wow, there's absolutely no sexism in having women only in the domestic forces in special revealing uniforms. it totally means there's gender equality.
also everything about how azula and her girl squad conduct themselves speaks to how women learn to navigate sexist systems. all the other firebending threats are these brash, aggressive men (zhao, ozai, zuko), but azula schemes and plots and takes down ba sing se not with brute force, but by infiltrating in makeup and dresses, by taking advantage of people underestimating her. they really do stage a coup with the power of their gossip giggles! the pressure mai was under to be quiet and compliant, ty lee's cultivated cute and ditzy persona hiding how she can fuck you up, and azula's ability to scheme, all reflect how women in sexist societies are treated and cope with that treatment.
furthermore, i think water tribe sexism might be kind of overstated because we don't get much southern water tribe development. yes, sokka was sexist, the men of the tribe left to go to war and the women stayed behind, but in hama's flashbacks waterbenders of all genders are seen fighting the fire nation raids. kanna fled the north for the south - surely she wouldn't do that if she knew she'd be faced with exactly the same treatment. katara is totally surprised to find out that women aren't trained in combat waterbending. my guess is that while there were roles, they weren't nearly as rigid. sokka, having put all his eggs into the basket of "be the male warrior and protector while the men are gone" is perhaps taking this to a greater extreme than the average water tribe member, and he unlearns it pretty quick - almost as if it wasn't THAT entrenched, and it was more about his personal worldview than his cultural beliefs.
the main change i would make to atla is adding another episode between "the waterbending master" and "the siege of the north" where we get -
a) some insight into why the two water tribes have grown so different. i think likely the war had an impact on gender roles in both nations, with the north retreating from the world and becoming stagnant and traditionalist while the south had to have everyone fight out of necessity. maybe some flashbacks to life in the southern water tribe, a kanna appearance maybe.
b) an improved pakku storyline, where he's more sympathetic and interesting. if we're going to have him be katara's waterbending master and a member of the white lotus, he needs to be less of a jerk for no reason
c) aang learning healing from yagoda. we need to establish that the problem is gender roles, not that healing is an inferior form. maybe we see other men joining him in yagoda's class and women joining pakku's class, as he and katara learn from both of them. when they see pakku at ba sing se in the finale, he tells them that yagoda is at the white lotus camp too.
(and this scene happens offscreen)
d) some cute scenes of sokka & yue bonding
i think another water tribe centric episode would do a lot to make fandom less weird about things like this. it wouldn't entirely fix the problem - the problem is that we live in a racist society - but it would at least give us more canon evidence to refute it.
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thoughts and opinions on The Little Mermaid (2023) with SPOILERS.
First of all, i'm so happy to be able to watch it. I've been waiting for it since 2019. And the casting announcement was the reason i became a fan of Chloe x Halle
The casting is perfect! I'm really a sucker for a good casting so....
Halle Bailey is everything Ariel. TBH, it feels like she's not acting that hard coz her expressions and voice are naturally Ariel. She's born to be a Disney princess. I could not imagine another person playing this role. From her face, features, physique, height and voice. She's a whole package.
Jonah Hauer-King is indeed charming. When his casting got announced, i never doubted him coz from his looks, he also has this Disney and Princely face. And i even like his version of Prince Eric better than the animated one.
Melissa McCarthy is great. She is actually terrifying lol but my complaint is that her make-up is lacking and then i found out that a straight person made it. I don't see the Drag in her face. It should have been better. Way better. They should have hired a queer make-up artist or someone in the Drag scene.
I know we all hate Awkwafina, but she actually has this annoying bird voice that is right for the role.
It's my first time to see Jessica Alexander act and whew! I think i might have a new crush. And she's bisexual??? I stan!
I don't have that much say for the other casts, but they are all great and visually amazing.
I expected a lot of changes, but i think it's good that they only changed the things that are necessary. It felt more genuine.
It's not that dark! It was just the right level of darkness for the scenes that are meant to be dark. The day scenes are actually colorful.
I saw a take about the sea creatures not being animated and expressive enough, but i think it's more of the CGI limitations, not the movie itself.
Having said that, Flounder could've been better. Still cute tho.
Halle and Jonah's chemistry is amazing. I'm a hetero-hater, but i was gushing in the theatre. Ariel and Eric are the best Disney live-action couple 💯 And Jalle's friendship offscreen is cute and wholesome.
I'm also a big musical fan so this live-action is special to me because they actually casted a singer and not just a basic one. What i hated about other Disney live-actions is the autotune. It's so annoying.
One of the minor issues i have is that i wished they didn't release too many stills and clips. I was kinda pissed on the "Under the sea" part coz i already saw the majority of it on social media. I wanted to be surprised because that scene was so fun and magical.
They should definitely have a sequel, a prequel, and a mermaid sisters spin-off. It would be a waste to only see them once especially Halle and Jonah's chemistry. The sisters are also too beautiful not to have their own stories coz from how they look, they have really different identities.
People complain too much on animal designs, but ignore the mermaid tails of Ariel and her sisters.
I'm also proud of Halle's acting coz i watched her on Grown.ish and her acting skills and confidence really improved by miles. Even when she lost her voice, she was very expressive. She didn't even have to try that much.
For me, this is the 2nd best Disney live-action so far. My first is still Maleficent.
Idk if I still need to say this, but the soundtrack is on-repeat after I watched. I actually want to rewatch the whole thing with subs coz i can't understand the British accent. lol
Halle Bailey needs to be in more musicals. I just can't get enough. Jessica Alexander should also be in more villain roles. Sapphic villain specifically 🥵
I also liked how Ariel and Prince Eric were longing for each other's world you know. It's a story about freedom really, not wanting to be boxed, and wanting to explore no matter how dangerous it is. It's such a queer allegory. And it's special knowing the original version of Hans Christian Andersen.
#The little mermaid#My Ariel#Ariel#Halle Bailey#Chloe x Halle#Jessica Alexander#Jonah Hauer-King#Disney#Prince Eric#Melissa McCarthy#Rob Marshall#Disney princess#Ursula#Vanessa#Flounder#Sebastian#Personal#hans christian andersen
33 notes
·
View notes
Note
You can take Wesley and Lilah and spin them off as leads of their own show post... I dunno, mid-S4, let's say (maybe Wesley and Lilah leave L.A. after the Beast attacks W&H, you can decide exactly when they leave).
Are there any other buffyverse characters, major or minor or just one-episode characters that would be significant characters on this spin-off as well? What would the general premise be?
Okay, I've decided I'm going to answer this instead of finishing my little gifset (which has literally been talking over my mind all day). I don't know if this was the initial intention of "you can take Wesley and Lilah and spin them off as leads of their own show..." but I really think I read it wrong as took it as a compliment? <3 I really need to came down, lol I swear that is all I ever do. They're the leads of my blog FOR SURE.
(I'm going to put it under the cut because I know it's going to be long and embarrassing)
It's actually funny you should propose this because ever since I was little some bit of my brain decided they did run away together?? I wasn't even really over the beast but they did end up together in my little childhood brain and have been together ever since. Just doing whatever they want and being in love. But honestly, as I have gotten back on the Weslah train I have thought a lot more deeply about this.
I think leaving after the beasts attack is obviously ideal but I also think it is possible after everything has happened. Even though they are dead and serving W&H, who is to to say they can't just fuck-off and leave anyway leading their best undead lives???? I also think they would travel a lot and just be normal about things? Like have a normal life; breakfast in the morning, going to the movies, late night drives on Wesley's motorcycle. I even would want them to be married, nothing big or anything - just at a courthouse and I think Linsey would send Lilah an anonymous note congratulating her (I swear to god I am only sappy and dumb for them, okay?)
It sounds silly and so plain but I just want them to have it all and that would be enough for me. I also think Virginia would be part of it too because I have this little idea in my head that she and Wesley had been in touch and writing letters back and forth. I would want everyone in the buffyverse to be part of it in some way, just to see how far the pair of them have come. And at some point Faith shows up at their door and crashes with them for a few years.
I also have it in my mind that Cordelia bargained with the Powers and everyone got a do-over (because I am a sucker for the early seasons where everyone was alive and together and happy). And at one point the group is trying to figure out where Wesley is and what happened to him, and they go to his house and see him and Lilah cooking breakfast and they see how happy they are together so they just leave him be (but at some point, they all do come together again even if things still are not the same (because I literally have an entire inner workings of Wesley and his trauma and my trauma and even if everything is good it will just not be the same, you know?) But Wesley still helps out from time to time with cases and everyone does get together for major holidays or whatever.
I may or may not be making any sense right now and I know this is becoming very long.
I feel like I should be really embarrassed for what I'm about to say (as I also proceed to tell you with nothing but a NORMAL amount of joy in my heart), but there are also two other scenes I play in my mind constantly and I definitely put myself in them.
The first scene is a court hearing against Wesley/Lilah, W&H, and the Powers; where Wes and Lie have to fight for themselves to be free of their contracts and to be able to be together (on the count of that dumb and pesky good/evil thing). I am literally the star witness in this scenario literally just so I can talk about how in love they are and I would have a huge binder compiled of various blog posts and novel texts, show moments as proof. And I would show my gifs, and go on a huge tangent about Wesley and how he saved Lilah (love saved her) from the beast and how he tried to free her from her contract and it should have worked. And then I would tell Eve that she looks like the person who should be getting everyone's coffee and that she's just jealous because Wesley's given Lilah more orgasms in one night then she's had in her entire life. In my mind and in the scenario I think this is so fucking funny.
Also, when I was a kid I didn't really have friends so I got super fixated on my favorite characters from tv shows and they were my friends. Of course I was so fixated on Wesley and Lilah so they were my friends and we were close, so in this last scenario I imagine us being apart for my years (and somehow not because my ban be from watching the show) and somehow W&H tries to trap Lilah into coming back and I'm going to be used as some virginal sacrifice (which is so silly and weird but it is honestly one of the few things I am good for). But things get worked out and Lilah saves the day (as my hero) because she is a strong and independent woman who doesn't need a job that treats her badly - she is literally stronger and smarter then everyone at W&H. And at one point in this scenario she fights the people of W&H off with a sword because she is a badass baddie and I will forever be in love with that picture of her holding the axe (it's a real crime she didn't get to use it).
I also wanted to add, though, I'm sure you have read it already: the tough get going (out of town) by thinlizzy2 is literally a perfect Wesley/Lilah run away fanfic. I read it a lot and I say it so many time but I get so emotional about the bit with the horses and towards the end where Wesley tells Lilah he loves her ("as his heart fills with pride in her for so many reasons") It is literally one of my TOP Wesley/Lilah fanfics, maybe third. Almost cannon ending because my top fic is til break of day and in continuity of things, that's my cannon ending for them (in terms of fanfic, I wasn't not going to link one and not the other).
#I am so sorry for how long this is#also I don't know if I should apologize for this. but I am sorry for going off and being weird#i have so many scenarios in my head and they literally all jumble together#asks#asks: kylia#about weslah
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ever wondered if Yandere Guy would even hurt or kill Milim and Ramiris if they’d ever try to free or take his darling away?
No,
I can see a Yandere Guy Crimson potentially 'harming' them solely as an unavoidable necessity, with no choice stepping in a bit further off the rails than he would've originally liked, since Guy uses intimidation and displays of violence to exercise demonic authority in front/on colleagues no problem.
However, I sincerely doubt he'd go as far as to kill Milim Nava and/or Ramiris.
Guy prefers no harm upon his interests, those who earn his favor, and share quality history hand in hand. Important kinships and friendships are critical in his dark line of business, same for others underneath him in title. Even a Demon Lord as powerful as Guy Crimson recognizes the importance of companionship, and organized faith in allies.
As a callously distant and pretty cold-hearted Demon Lord, Guy's relationships are valued fairly deeply. Guy genuinely likes Milim Nava and Ramiris for reasons buried deeper than the chaos he scorches upon unfortunate kingdoms, victims unlucky enough to summon him. Guy will go out of his way to protect them if need be, and likewise for them in turn. If Guy did-or well, tried to-catastrophic results would occur. Results he is very aware will happen;
It'd wage war.
But there is a scary trait about Guy, he is incredibly smart. Inhumanly so. Enough to find methods around worst-case scenarios, and situations that may or may not involve outside parties. To prepare, think ahead: so these specific events don't and won't ever happen. Although Guy likes occasionally dancing around fate and test the thin line of how steep a person's determination runs, he isn't childish anywhere near enough to go out and provoke another Demon Lord-a close friend especially-lacking legitimate thought or reason.
Guy is a canon-stated "natural-born leader", a country-destroying conqueror. Intelligent, greatly resourceful, strong sufficient in seeking means to effectively kill and/or avoid minor and major retaliation.
Guy prides the fact his head keeps high and mighty even in the grimmest situations, and most dire events. What is a king, or in this case a 'Demon Lord', if not arrogant?
Assuming Milim Nava or Ramiris prove good reason to directly interfere in whatever Guy does to his lover, Guy knows them enough to say all the correct things to calm their ire; plant reasonable doubts, shoot down solutions that line up incorrectly with his own without sounding threatening, condescending.
He's in Milim's head enough to know how to carefully spin it on her rear-end, like a simple game of tag or an inferior test of strength, make it seem so the sudden change in perspective was all her idea, an idea that turned out to be nothing, at worst boring. Useless, unworthy of her time. Milim is tough and crafty, but around those she truly trusts Milim flips childishly naive under the right circumstances, where her guard isn't up. She gets played like a fiddle if she doesn't maintain deep enough doubt, and Guy is no stranger to manipulation and emotional control-as unnecessary as he finds it most of the time.
Careful to keep surface tension from breaking, anchoring his feet and drowning him in the water. He treats these situations as normally and cautiously as he usually does in any heavy-weighted meeting; for the sake of his friendships and kicking any problems to the edge of the cliff, kept bare minimum. While Guy seems reckless on the surface, in reality it's mere façade. He's just careless in his pursuit of never-ending satisfaction and entertainment.
Imagine how Guy Crimson gets for things he does actually care for, like Milim and Ramiris.
Like you.
Excellent men of strategy know how to piece together unpredictable plans, expect the unexpected, hide from plain view of their opposers and heroes alike. And Guy will prepare everything, secure everyone he can to ensure everything is perfect as intended to be. On the rare occasion, he has the allies and plenty of powerful himself to back him up should anything suddenly turn against him.
#ask#anon#anonymous#guy crimson#rouge#yandere guy crimson#yandere rouge#ttigraas#that time i got reincarnated as a slime#yandere#tw yandere#tw emotional manipulation#tw mentions of betrayal
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gonna fix her ( part two)- Steve rogers x reader
Summary: what happens when you return back home after your party.
Warnings: throw up, mental abuse, verbal abuse, fear, slight physical abuse, and major degradation. Minors do not interact.
What was he gonna do to you? What and you guys have to talk about? Whatever it was, you didn't want to go back home. You didn't feel safe with your boyfriend anymore. You knew he was gonna hurt you and why would you go back to that. You weren't stupid.
You did everything you could to try and stay at the birthday party. Your friends took notice to it and they questioned you, but you say nothing, not wanting to worry them. You knew if you told them, they would call the cops and you knew what Steve would do to local authority. You would be putting everyone in immediate danger.
So, you keep your fear to yourself and refused to say anything about your relationship problems. So, when your girlfriend dropped you off at Steve and yours shared apartment, you felt your stomach churn in fear and slight alcohol sickness.
" darling, are you alright?" your best friend of 14 years, Jamie, asked you. That nickname even made you stomach turn worst. The nauseous feeling was getting worse and worse. Sooner than later, you puked all over your dress, your legs, and her car. She screamed and gets out the car, running towards the apartment to get Steve.
Your stomach hurt so bad that it felt like someone plunged a knife in and was twisting if around. Your heart dropped down to your ass when a shirtless, pj wearing, and hair messy Steve came out the house with a concerned Jamie. She just wanted to make sure you were okay, but didn't know that Steve was the reason you spewed out your party snacks all over her car.
He doesn't look happy about being woken up at 3 in the morning. He had work in the morning and you just had to turn up at right now, scaring your door friend to death. He swung the car door open, roughly and scoops you up in his arms. You start shaking as soon as you touched his warm chest. “come on, my dear.” he only says that because your friend was standing there, swaying side to side with worry.
He assures your friend that you were alright and needed a desperate alcohol cleanse. He told her that was gonna take care of you so you could get back to partying as soon as possible.
All of that was a complete lie and you knew it. He made sure you knew that because of that shit eating grin on his face. He carried you back inside and next thing you knew was you face buried in a tub full of water, drowning as he scrub the pure off of your body. It forced you to sober up and it was for a bad reason. He wanted you completely sober so you would remember everything he was going to do to you.
He pulled your face out of the soap water, eyes burning. " where do you get a kick? Huh? Getting so wasted that you soil the dress that I bought you. Got so shit faced that your sober friend had to pound on my fucking door! ", he yelled in your face. Oh no, you made him mad. You just about cried when the grip on your hair tightened and he yanks you up. He spins you around and picks you up by your plushy thighs, with a grip hard enough to leave finger print bruises on them.
" please Steve" you try to plead your way out of whatever punishment he had planned for you. You really didn't think that was gonna work, and you? He tosses your wet naked body on the bed, getting in between your legs. " don't rape me..."
He laughs an uproarious laugh. "I wouldn't give my dick to a stupid whore. " he spits out and you feel your heart crack in two. " you don't fucking deserve me, bitch. I have wasted so much time on you. I could be a respectful girl, but I wasted my time on your disrespectful, slutty, and loose pussy having ass. I am sick of you. I am tired of trying. I told you that I was gonna talk to you when you got home, but I fell asleep because unlike you, I actually work an actual job. Tell me, what do you do, hun?" every word that came out of his perfect mouth was a dagger to the heart. It tore you to pieces.
" You don't mean that, Steve. You can't mean that" your voice was quivering. You were about to cry. Everything he said was so cruel.
"I meant every fucking word, darling"he chuckles and pats your face. " tomorrow, you will prove yourself. I want this house cleaned from top to bottom or else. "
He gets off of you and gets on his side of the bed. " get dressed and go to sleep."
You shakily get up and walk over to your dresser only to see that he replaced all of your comfortable pjs with silk night gowns. You feel your face heat up, realizing now much can be seen through them. You such up your tears and put on the night gown. You crawl in bed with him and sniffle. His arms immediately wrap around your waist, pulling you close like didn't insult you.
He nuzzles into your neck and hums. "I am gonna make you perfect."
Maybe a part 3...?
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Crossover Potential.....what?!
Minor Spoilers for Kingdom, MAJOR spoilers for Jak and Daxter.
So, before Kingdom came out, my friend and I had been talking about crossover possibilities with JnD. How Link and Zelda and their assorted allies would cope in a world like Haven with the Metalhead scourge; and conversely how Jak and his people would fit into Hyrule.
Having now played a collective 12 hours, and finding half the tears across the kingdom of Hyrule. I have deduced that this crossover has FAR more potential than I initially joked about.
So Kingdom starts out with Link and Zelda being little archeologists below the castle to find the source of a disturbance that's been making people sick. They find Ganon, who is not only ALIVE, but also powerful and TERRIFYING. Attacks the duo and Link's been severely infected with malice (called "Gloom" by the rest of the world)
Link's arm is gone, replaced, and in exchange he gets a nifty new set of powers, a mission to find a way to cure it AND locate the missing Zelda (timey wimey shit) all while trying to save the world. Again. From the same entity that has not only HURT him, but was also once before defeated BY him.
We up to speed? Great? Good.
Jak and Daxter, in the briefest explanation possible, is two friends exploring somewhere they shouldn't and one of them gets cursed. The mission is to help said friend get the curse removed, but they end up saving the world in the process.
Jak 2 starts out with Jak, Daxter, Kiera and Samos being little adventuring scientists and they find an ancient technology that they don't recognize, they activate it, and everyone gets separated. Jak gets arrested for unknown reasons and becomes a lab rat for the leader of this city, Baron Praxis and his pet minion, Erol.
Jak's rescued by a still cursed Daxter after two years, Jak has a nifty new set of powers, a mission to find their find their missing companions, join a rebellion and save the world. Again. From not only the same people that hurt him, but also the same entity that makes DEALS with the man that hurt him.
Gloom = Dark Eco. Easy enough. It makes people sick, it does weird things and reacts differently to everyone and everything it touches. Can't be controlled, and barely contained.
Jak = Link. Also easy. Main playable character, chosen hero, set to save the world. Has a bunch of cool powers, while not directly the result of the curse, was certainly influenced BY it. Displaced in time from their original world and set to save the new one with no real way home. Even if they could, they can't leave this broken future to its own problems.
Zelda = Keira. Little scientist, archeologist. Loves old tech, embraces new. Obsessed with knowing everything about everything they work on. Hands on research. Zelda being the reincarnation of the goddess Hylia (or the actual goddess, as is my theory) Lines up well with Keira's arc of eventually becoming a fully fledged sage, herself in Potato. (Even if we don't acknowledge potato, it's admitted in the FIRST GAME that Keira has the makings of a sage)
Daxter COULD be Rauru. The Zonai were an ancient race with powerful, godlike powers, precursor to even the hylians and shieka that we all know. And they have access to technology that even their successors couldn't fathom, despite their similarities. The Precursors are very much the same.
This is all very much crack, but it's been spinning in my head nonstop for over a week and I had to get it out there. I hope to have infected you as well!
#I cannot stress this enough#WE WERE *JOKING*#How is this LEGIT?!#This was supposed to be crack!#zelda#jak and daxter#totk#tears of the kingdom#jak 2 spoilers#crack crossover ideas
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dress For The Job You Want
A discussion with the lovely @merge-conflict put this idea in my head, and learning that their dear Valentine is a gremlin at heart was something I absolutely had to subject Victoria to (she deserves it tbh)
Incredibly minor Adam Smasher/OC at the end
Summary: Victoria chooses fashion, Valentine chooses violence.
(Valentine ofc belongs to @merge-conflict, ty for trusting me with your gremlin and helping me think of a way to end this!)
.
There’s a time for delicate words, when nerves are frayed and tempers are rising, fingers on triggers and daemons primed to bite – knowing what to say and when to say it was an important skill in the life of a suit. It could mean the difference between life and death. But this? This was not one of those times.
This was an insult against any higher power that might bear witness. It was certainly scalding the back of her own eyes, threatening to blind her. It would be a mercy if it succeeded.
“What,” she starts, tongue heavy with sincerity, “the actual fuck are you wearing?” Her tone has their attending salesman take a small step back, cowering somewhat as they hunch their shoulders and try to seem occupied as they scroll through the datapad of everything else they have in stock. There’s a tremble to their fingers, notable as they move quickly across the screen. And Valentine, the target of her ire, the individual currently dressed like a sentient traffic cone, grins brightly as she outstretches her arms and does a little spin – without needing prompted this time.
As if she was proud of the abomination she had conjured and its too many shades of orange and- dear God. Was that a sequin belt?
“I quite like it.” The other states, that grin taking on a distinct shit-eating quality as she regards herself in the full-body mirror. It gets wider when she meets Victoria’s dour expression, catching the none too subtle twitch of her left eye and the disgusted curl of painted lips.
“It’s…it’s certainly bold—” Any attempt of praise from the sales-jockey, desperate as it was to find something vaguely positive, is stopped by a sharp gesture of Victoria’s hand, fingers making a soft ting as they snap against the metal of her palm.
“There’s a thick line between boldness and stupidity. And you have...” Another cast of her golden gaze, eyes clawing through Valentine’s attire for the smallest thing that could perhaps be savoured. She found none. “soundly pole-vaulted across it, my dear. Next.”
Her glare is focused steadily, line-of-sight broken only when the curtain of the changing room is pulled across. A glimpse of the glint in Valentine’s eye promising to turn a mild headache into a migraine. Ugh, another self-chosen outfit then.
Curtain closed, her gaze and ire turn to the man standing beside the rail of clothing they had requested. A majority of it were her own picks, fashionable enough pieces that quietly demanded attention through the mere act of stepping into a room, but now that she’s looking she can spot more atrocious colours and materials that were most certainly not her choice.
She absolutely should not have handed Valentine the tablet to pick out a few for herself, it was the other’s lack of basic knowledge that convinced her this trip was necessary in the first place. “We need to have a thorough discussion about what you offer your clients.”
“I am currently removing the pieces that they were…kind enough to model for us.” Ah, that explains the hurry to his actions. He clicks through a few more things on the tablet, brow furrowing at what she guesses was an infestation of terrible stock choices. “Last spring’s obsession with orange was a mistake, to put it lightly.”
“A blessedly short-lived one.” A disaster she had the sense to side-step. She’ll stick to her whites and golds, thank you very much.
A sharp laugh comes from behind the curtain, the loud ‘Ha!’ has Victoria pre-emptively pinching the bridge of her nose even before Valentine throws the heavy fabric to the side with a gusto she certainly didn’t have for the earlier outfits. She closes her eyes against the sight that is certain to be blindingly horrific. The sharp intake of the man assures her it was the correct decision.
“I don’t even want to look at you.”
“Why not? I think this one really compliments my complexion.”
“So would coating you in tar and feathers.” Rubbing at her temple, she chances a look up and— “It suits you.” She admits begrudgingly and apparently to Valentine’s surprise, that smug grin loses a little bit of tooth.
“What?” She can see the other’s shoulders lowering, a little edge of disappointment seeping in from the lack of violent disgust. Valentine considers herself in the mirror, hands on hips as she evaluates her choice of mixing a spotted yellow-green shirt with pink-blue striped slacks. She meets Victoria’s narrowed stare through the reflection as she presses, “Really?”
“Yes, you absolute clown.”
And the terrible grin comes back in full, dragging a headache along with it.
God help her, she booked them for an entire afternoon of private fittings.
.
It wasn’t often that Victoria allowed herself to look so openly defeated; curled loosely into the corner of the settee with hazy eyes, half sunken into its shitty cushions with the mere act of lifting the cigarette to her lips seeming tiresome, heavy in an effort she was extending out of habit than any true want.
“Victoria.” She blinks at the low tone of her name, looking up to the behemoth of a ‘borg towering over her. “You look like shit.” She knows she does; she can’t even argue for the sake of being contrarian, so she sighs and quietly accepts his astute observations as she turns to press herself deeper into the horrid cushion she had claimed.
At that, Adam’s tone becomes sharper, demanding; “What the fuck happened?”
“Valentine happened.”
“Ah.” And that’s all he offers on the topic of her, or at least all he does for now – his own rants about Hanako’s new little pet were a dime a dozen when he was in a mood himself. The settee dips and groans dramatically under his weight. “I’ll be sure to think of you when I kill her.”
She manages the slightest twitch of her lips at the easy promise, neither of them bringing up his failure to do so in Mikoshi. “Thank you, love.”
#cyberpunk 2077#cyberpunk oc#corpo v#TWO corpo Vs technically!#double the trouble#fic tag#my writing#Victoria Crane#Valentine#the moment i learned Val had no fashion sense#i knew Vic would need to suffer through it#next time Val fucks up somehow Vic is gonna leave a clown nose on her desk#one that honks#ship: nfwmb
7 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
