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goshyesvintageads · 2 days

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United States Playing Card Co, 1952

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uw-wb · 3 months

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#women #spades #qos #black #white

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ragingbookdragon · 3 months

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All Work And No Play Makes Dull Boys

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: Suggestive Themes

Author's Note: Guess who's back with an actual fic? Fantastic render by @ave661 Go check her out! Enjoy! -Thorne

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If there’s one thing Simon “Ghost” Riley knows about Spades, it’s that she, in all her infinite glory, never spares any expense when it comes to how she looks, and what her gear is. And the same has begun to occur for the 141 as well. It started small, bits and pieces rearranged, a few new knives and sidearms to try out, then it went to bigger things, new rifles and shotguns, and then it hit the gear. At random moments, Spades had pulled each man of the 141 into her room and stripped them down to their tighty-whities before she measured each inch of them—Soap and Gaz had gone willingly, it took Price a few days to convince, and Ghost? Ghost didn’t step foot in her room or anywhere near her when he learned what she was doing—no need though, she already had what she needed from him.

***

It’s a late evening in October when she comes to his door. She doesn’t bother knocking, never does, and unlocks it with a key she had made (he has no idea when and how she did it), stepping into his room. He looks up from the mission brief he’s been reading while laying on his bed, an unimpressed, almost annoyed look in his eyes as he glares at her.

“Don’t look so happy to see me, Simon,” she says with a sickly-sweet tone. “Someone might accuse you of actually liking me.”

“Out.” Is all he says.

She tuts and beckons him with a finger. “Come.”

They stare at each other for a solid minute before he exhales through his nose, annoyed and exasperated, and rolls off the bed; he stretches and rolls his shoulders before following her down the hall into her room.

“I’m not getting measured,” he says as he closes the door behind them.

“As if I don’t already have your measurements, Simon Riley,” she retorts and now he’s a bit unnerved because he’s never given her time to measure him, so how did she already have them? She doesn’t answer his silent question, merely walks to her room divider, and rolls out a fancy looking set of black gear. “I give to you, ‘The Gilded Reaper.’” She announces with a note of pride in her tone and a helluva lot of it in her expression.

He takes one look at it. “I am not wearing that.”

“YOU HAVEN’T EVEN TRIED IT ON!” Spades yells and thrusts her hand to it. “I spent a lot of time and money on this, and you are going to try it on for me whether you like it or not.”

“Am I?” he dares and it’s obvious he’s going to go for the door as she points at him.

“If you make me chase you down and drag you back here, I’m going to make you regret it entirely, do you understand me, Simon Riley?”

He’s almost tempted to do it just to see her follow suit with her threat; he glares her down before he lets out a long breath. “Fine.”

Spades smiles and chirps, “Thank you.” Simon dips behind the divider, tugging the mannequin with him and she rolls her eyes. “It’s as if you think I haven’t seen anything you have before.”

“It’s called ‘common decency,’” he retorts. “Maybe you should look it up.” She throws one of her shoes over the divider at the tuft of blond hair she can see. “That hurt.”

“I meant it. Now hurry up, I want to see it.”

It’s another few moments before he steps outside the divider, and she stares wide-eyed as he does.

“Well?” he asks, and he really means, “This is so fucking stupid.”

Spades takes her time walking in circles around him, pulling at belts, at the straps, checking if everything is fitting well enough before she stops in front of him, staring up into his golden mask.

“I like it,” she notes, and her voice lowers an octave, a tell-tale sign that she’s being honest; she only ever does it with him. “I think it’s you.”

“It’s ostentatious,” he deadpans.

“Careful, that’s a big word for a caveman’s brain.”

He rolls his eyes, not taking the bait of the insult. “I can’t wear this out on missions. It’s practically a neon sign that says, ‘Hey, shoot me!’”

Spades reaches up and strokes the gold mask. “Who said it was missions?”

Simon freezes up, body still as he gazes at her, and Spades looks awfully innocent as she dips her fingers below his golden mask, feeling his masked face beneath. It’s not often that Spades can render Simon completely silent, the two practically have a raging desire to be each other’s constant pissing match that there’s always something to say, and yet, he’s still quiet as she pulls her hands away and twirls around him to his back. Her hands slide up his sides beneath the cape, feeling firm muscle beneath.

“I made this just for us, Simon,” she coos, hands slipping down to his belt where she tugs it. “I was thinking we could take a trip to the mountains where I have that cabin and we could…play.”

“You mean hunt each other,” he breathes, and it’s low and heavy, she knows exactly what he really wants to say.

“All work and no play makes such dull boys,” Spades muses. “We’ve spent so much time working, Simon, we’re awfully dull, don’t you think?”

He lets out a low noise from his throat, a warning that should send bells off in her head, but all it does is urge her on, a grin worming its way onto her lips.

“Please, Simon,” she begs and lifts a leg on the outside of his hip, her thigh just beside his hand. “It would be so much fun.”

His head tips to the side, hand grasping her knee in an iron-clad grip and he spins them; Spades is back up against the wall in a flash and she gives him a flash of white teeth in a smile as he takes her jaw in a firm hand, tilting it up to get a good look at her. “We haven’t played hunt in a while. What makes you think you’ll win this time?” he challenges.

It’s true, Simon often wins their games of hunt, but it’s only because Spades gets tired of waiting and lets herself be hunted down. “Call it a feeling,” she replies, tugging at his center belt. “Should I give you the coordinates for our game, Ghost?”

He leans forward, close enough that she can feel the warmth radiating off of him and he remarks, “I’ll get ‘em on my own.”

As he pulls away, she watches as he turns and stalks for the door, only stopping when her voice reaches him in a provoking, “May the best hunter win.”

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oldwindowsicons · 5 months

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Windows 7 - Internet Spades

#windows 7 #games #spades #256x256

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card-of-the-day · 7 months

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Today's Card Is: 2 of Spades

#card of the day #playing cards #spades #september 20 2023

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raskullion · 5 months

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the pack

#i was going to say the “the deck” instead because their all named after cards and deck is another word for pack-#uh huh you get it #werewolves #werewolf #bikers #from left to right #spades #hearty #dia #clover #original characters #skeletal remains

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noonlight-stims · 2 years

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source

#stim #visual stim #looping gif #abstract #digital #playing cards #hearts #spades #diamonds #clubs #black #red #white

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arty-e · 1 month

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Practice with some poses found on Pinterest (poses by mellon_soup and kibbi_the_kibbitzer)

#my art #cards #Alvis wilson #Mahira cor #four of hearts #king of hearts #Dylan espadas #king of spades #rune Diamant #prince of diamonds #mercury cor #ace of hearts #amethyst diamant #ace of diamonds #hearts #diamonds #spades

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ze0wlartist · 2 months

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If you want, could you draw someone from Deck 52 or Colorbox Pink?

3 from deck 52

#owlbox #owlrequests #incredibox #the sillies #artist on tumblr #digital illustration #deck 52 #incredibox deck 52 #deck 52 fanart #Ace #Diamond #spades

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revivalrequiem · 3 months

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# cardverse themed ✮

one of [my] special interest is cards and the popular au cardverse. part two of two group sets. repost with credit, free to use.

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pulpsandcomics2 · 5 months

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Alberto Vargas

#alberto vargas #deck of cards #spades

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deadwifemanpain · 1 year

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Your honor they are stupid.

i actually had a longer idea for a comic but then i realized i’m lazy and i have an attention span of a walnut so instead it’s just this piece of- sum

#art #digital art #fallout #fallout community #fallout oc #illustration #butch deloria #drawing #fallout 3 #fallout art #comic #fallout fanart #mini comic #lone wanderer #fanart #fo3 art #fo3 oc #butch fo3 #spades

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ragingbookdragon · 5 months

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It is, quite possibly, the one and only time he has ever seen Spades look any semblance of ill. She’s got one of his hoodies on (he has no idea how she managed to snag it from him), a pair of Gaz’s joggers on, and two tissues shoved up her obviously running and irritated nose. Her eyes are red and crusty looking, and she looks like she’s running up a fever while sweating it out in a sixty-degree room.

“What.” She glares, or at least tries for an intimidating look, but given that she looks like a poor clown, she isn’t the slightest.

Ghost blinks in amusement and cocks his elbow on the doorframe above her. “You look like shit.”

“Really, Dick Tracy?” she replies in mock disbelief. “I wonder what could’ve possibly given you that clue?”

He smirks and raises a bag in his hand; it’s obviously packed with flu supplies, what looks to be a Tupperware container of soup, a bottle of water, some of that imported Canadian cough syrup that puts you on your ass, and some Tylenol.

“Figured I’d give you this.”

She takes it from, looks down into it, then back up at him with suspicion. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why?”

“You mean why did I do this for you?” she nods, and he shrugs. “I don’t want to keep listening to you hack your lungs up every night.”

“You ever think of how much richer your life would be if you weren’t a complete cunt to everyone?”

“I’m not a complete cunt to everyone.”

“Ah, so just the ones that matter?”

“Something like that.” Ghost reaches forward and gently brushes some of the hair that’s slicked to her sweat-covered forehead. “Try not to cough up any organs, yeah?”

Spades smiles, knowing it’s just like Ghost to be so kind in his anti-social and asshole-ish ways. “Thank you, Simon.” She doesn’t kiss his cheek like she normally would in her cheeky, “I’m better than you and you know it” way, but she does knock her slippered heel against his calf. “I appreciate you taking care of me.”

Simon flusters and puts his arm down, digging his hands into his jacket pockets. “Keep it to yourself, yeah? Got a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone.” She winks and closes the door, slinking back to her bed as she chugs a tablespoon or two of the cough syrup and burrows into the blanket, inhaling the scent of his cologne and gunpowder.