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multific · 9 months

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Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Warnings: smut, unplanned pregnancy, angst

Summary: After a night of passion, you face Simon with the consequences, however, his reaction is far worse than you could have ever imagined.

You were always good at what you were doing.

Comically good. The way to take down terrorists was like a dance. A melody you create by murdering them.

What you weren't so good at were feelings. Especially your own.

No matter how tangled up you got with them, you always found a way out.

You promised you won't become attached to anyone. Attachments are dangerous.

But you did find yourself entangled with your LT.

Which wasn't good.

You knew it was unprofessional but the moment his lips hit that sensitive spot on your neck, you lost all sense and only came back to it the next morning.

When once again, you lost all senses when you felt his bulge rub against your ass. It was all a mess.

You should have seen the red flags. But you chose to ignore them all.

Simon Riley for one was a huge red flag.

The entire man was a secret and you loved it. It was so exciting and interesting for you.

You knew Simon wasn't the relationship type of guy so you knew what to expect. You were ready for rejection at any given time.

But of course, it never came.

Not once did he reject anything you did, ask or told him to do.

Not even on the battlefield.

Simon knew you were talented so why would he question it? But now, now he had a question, a question he was afraid to get an answer to.

"What did you just say?"

"I'm pregnant."

Simon saw many terrible things, and done some himself, but that one word was the worst he had ever experienced.

A word that will change both of your lives and he wasn't ready for that. He was dead. Only a ghost, an idea, a machine.

Not a father.

"Get rid of it." he would reply in his panic. He honestly didn't even realize he said it out loud if it wasn't for the hurt in your eyes, he would have believed he didn't.

But he did. And it hurt.

He then turned away and left.

You promised yourself it would be the last time you saw him.

Because now, you finally could see all of his red flags.

All of them came crashing down on you.

But you also knew you won't 'get rid of it'. No, you will keep this baby.

And after getting a note from your doctor, you retired from the army, focusing on the baby and yourself instead.

Fuck Simon and his attitude.

Fuck him for not stepping up when you needed him.

Fuck him.

You will do better without him.

---

Living in a small apartment in a quiet place in London might have been the obvious choice.

But it was your choice.

You wanted to prove that you can provide for your child.

Thankfully you were smart enough to not spend the money you earned while in the army.

So, you had enough money for now.

Not for very long, but you could still get a little nursery done in your home.

You went to all of your appointments with that doctor.

Hearing the heart of your baby beating was like magic.

And then the announcement of the century, you were having a little girl.

A beautiful little girl who is yours.

Your daughter.

You needed many days to let that sink it.

Being pregnant and alone was a nightmare.

No one was there to rub your feet or to help with your cravings.

You told yourself you don't need anyone anyway… After all, who would want a woman who is pregnant with someone else's child?

There might be a couple men out there but you didn't need them.

You just needed you and your baby.

And that was enough.

When the time finally came, you could only stare at her, sleeping in her bed next to you in the hospital.

You swore to protect her from everything.

You swore to be enough for her.

You swore to love her forever.

For she was the love of your life.

Your little bundle of joy.

You gave her a name, a name you always wanted to have yourself, so you let her have it instead.

A healthy little girl.

Your daughter, Emily.

Bringing her home was possibly as challenging as it was magical.

You ordered some food for yourself before putting her to sleep.

You tried your best to remember everything the doctor and the nurses told and taught you.

There was a knock on your door, you stood up and walked to get your food.

But of course, instead of your food, a man stood in your doorway.

Simon.

"You got to be fucking with me." you said as he looked at you.

"Nice to see you too, Lass."

"What do you want?"

"I believe you have something of mine. Half, mine."

"Go fuck yourself Simon. This is all you can say? 11 months and this is the best you can do. Leave."

And you slammed the door into his face.

When your food finally arrive you did catch a glimpse of him still waiting in the hallway. But you didn't care.

Who did he think he was?

Half of his?

Fuck him.

How dare he?

---

From that day on, he was everywhere.

In the grocery store, in the park, in the restaurants. Wherever you and Emily went, Simon followed.

One day, you were sitting on a bench, Emily sleeping in her stroller when he suddenly sat down next to you.

"I'm sorry."

"That's a better start." you said, not looking at him.

"I was a complete idiot when I told you to…" he looked at the stroller as you watched him, you understood what he meant. "I have been watching you for a while now. I found you when you were five months along."

"So, you have been watching me for 6 months now?"

"About that much, yes. I died the day my family died. I am a ghost, a baby didn't fit into that."

"Then wear a condom." you said with a harsh tone, he knew he deserved it.

"I am not father material. I am a soldier. Having a child is… not for me."

"Why are you here Simon? Are you here to tell me, this time nicely, that you want nothing to do with me or my daughter? Fine, have it your way. Leave, I didn't need you then, I don't need you now."

"You were the best of us. 141 isn't the same without you. Price often said that you will be the end of me. He always joked about you and me… a quiet life, but I don't think he meant it as a joke. You fascinated me always. You are so beautiful and kind."

"Simon-"

"The day you were told you are having a girl, you were so happy. You went to a restaurant and ate so many things, then you went to the ice cream shop. The lady looked at you funny when you asked to only eat the pink ones. I followed you, I watched you."

"Why are you here Simon?"

"Price told me to find you, he told me to make things right, but he only spoke the words I have been meaning to do. I knew I needed you the moment you joined the team. I let you go because of my own doubts and fears. I do not know what I would do if anything happened to you or her."

His words were sincere. His eyes were filled with guilt and regret.

You would be lying if you said you weren't attracted to him. You always were and will be.

"I can't let you in Simon if you are only going to leave us." is all you could say, your voice, barely a whisper.

Simon was about to say something when Emily started to stir and cry.

You grabbed her and put her on your chest, slowly bouncing and calming her down. You looked at Simon whose eyes were glued to your little girl.

"She has your eyes." you said as he looked at you and then back to her. You moved her slightly, making her face him.

"She looks like you." he said. "Beautiful." it was something he wasn't meant to say, you could tell easily. "I don't want to leave, but I have to. It's what's the safest for you two."

"It's not enough. I am not going to just send you photos of her for every anniversary. I'm not going to tell her that her father wants to see her but can't. It will break her and me. Either you have us Simon or not. I'm not doing the tango with you."

"You were always the all-or-nothing type." he chuckled. He was looking at Emily and you could tell it wasn't an easy decision to make. But you couldn't let him have it his way. As if to help your case, Emily reached out her small hand towards Simon, you smiled at her but waited for his reaction.

He lifted his hand and let her touch his fingers.

Simon will never forget the feeling of his daughter's first touch. It was so warm and innocent. Her little fingers played with his much bigger ones.

Simon came with the intention of letting you go. But he couldn't.

When he first saw you, you were radiating.

Your belly was showing as you walked from store to home. Simon should have known it was a done deal after that.

He should have known he will never be able to let go.

"I will make this right." he said as he let Emily wrap her tiny fingers around his thumb.

He couldn't believe just how terrible he was towards you that day. Telling you to 'get rid of it', of his daughter. He will forever regret his words. No matter how much he will do in the future. You offered him a small smile and a simple nod.

You knew he will be able to make things right, the two of you will be able to figure this out.

Simon Riley might be a walking red flag with a tragic past, but when you handed him Emily, his eyes filled with love and suddenly, in the bright daylight those red flags looked more pink to you.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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iovesia · 2 months

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𐚁֙࿐ BE MY DADDY TONIGHT.

keanu mlist.⠀ 𑇓 ⊹ ᳝ ࣪ ⠀bodyguard!con&wick⠀𝑥⠀f!reader.

synopsis: you have one job for tonight's ball: behave. easier said than done, right? well, your two bodyguards will make sure you stay in line. by any means necessary.

contents. bratty!rich!reader. large age gap. threesome. brat taming. oral (m!receiving). hate to gentle sex? double penetration (+ANAL). sir kink. pure filthy filth. 5.0k words.

⋆ 𓂃 ﾟ .⠀josie's little note. mentally, physically WEAK for my fav duo— this is a spin off to you can be the boss, so hopefully you guys will enjoy :3 if u see any grammar or spelling errors, no you don't ♡

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

“Why not?” You scoff.

“Take that off.”

You roll your eyes, looking back into the mirror, hands gently smoothing the silk covering your hips. Having people paid to stalk your every move, means you’ll always have a second opinion for your outfits. The downside is that they’re 40 year old men with zero fashion sense.

“No way,” you defend, viewing your body in every angle. The pink satin hugged your figure just right, the slit on the side exposing your smooth leg and thigh. Each mirror perfectly reflected your good side— which was every side. “This is totally, like, ball material.”

The annual Senator’s ball. The one day of the year where your father is forced to interact with you, and acknowledge your existence beyond a weekly check to your bank account. You and your family have attended every single one since you were 5, a begrudging effort to boost your father’s campaigns and image.

Family’s everything.. at least to the voters. Chin up and grin when the cameras point your way.

“Is this ball in the red light district?” Constantine snickers, earning a glare from his associate.

Your two bodyguards were spending their Saturday afternoon watching over you, as they always do. Except now at the painstakingly boring activity of shopping. Constantine and John (your original offer of calling them ‘Beavis and Butthead’ were immediately shot down), a pair of older brawny men in black suits, sat in the comically pink fluffy chairs as you tried on several outfits. As similar as the two men look, they couldn’t be more different personality wise.

Constantine was the fun one; could actually take a joke, and was more lax on the rules, but you knew it was just to irritate John. You had no clue why your father hired him, then you remember the handfuls of other guards you annoyed to resignation. Last resort.

John was the polar opposite. Total grade A military asshole. Knows what you’re gonna do before you do it. Wouldn’t crack a smile to save his life. He was the worse cop to Constantine’s bad cop.

“Find something else,” John stares blankly at you.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” you sneer. The two of you lock eyes in a silent stand-off, with Constantine just smirking on the sidelines. “It’s my money, not yours.”

“No, it’s your father’s money,” John retorts.

“And daddy dearest is gonna have our necks if we let you come dressed like that,” Constantine interjects.

“Change. Now.”

Your face scrunches up into an ugly scowl, as you march back to the dressing room, muttering profanities under your breath. Like a petulant child, you tug and try on new dresses with aggression in your movements. Damn near ripping the seams.

You come out after a few minutes in a new dress: a baby blue silk dress which reaches the floor, hiding your curves and hips. Like a Kate Hudson look-alike, the silky dress left your back exposed.

“Nuh uh,” the older man shakes his head, arms crossed.

“Oh come on!” You exclaim, turning around in a huff. “You want me to show up dressed like the Virgin Mary. Get real.”

“Yeah, John, get real,” Constantine mocks your high pitched voice.

"You stay out of this—" John shoots his partner a side eye.

“John, I’m buying this. I’m not going to that ball lookin’ like a nun,” you reaffirm, as you take one last look in the mirror. Your hands smoothing the dress down over your backside, you grinned satisfied. The soft material on your skin boosted your confidence for the upcoming night.

“Just buy the dress and let’s go,” John mutters, glancing at your reflection. Constantine smirks, whispering something to him. Your brows furrowed, but you waved your hand dismissively, your mind focused on the ball rather than their stares.

The ride to the ball was painful. Mentally at least.

You sat next to your father in the back of the pristine limousine. Your father typed endlessly away on his mobile, answering the string of emails that flooded in daily. He was a busy man, and this upcoming election only soaked up any remainder of his free time. Stupidly, you hoped he would at least talk to you on the way to the ball— a repeatedly unfulfilled hope.

“Please behave at this ball, I need tonight to go well,” Your father drawls, like he has to force out every word. Talking with you always seemed like a chore.

“I always behave,” you try to joke, but it falls flat when your father doesn’t even lift his eyes from his phone. Incessant clicking noises fill the limo, and you clear your throat, shifting to rest your elbow on the car door.

“I mean it,” he says firmly. “You will not embarrass me like you did last time.”

“That was an accident..”

The dreaded accident he’s referring to was the year prior, and the aftermath of it all nearly cost your father his win. Being a politician’s brat means your only other friends included snobby offspring of other politicians, or mobsters who shadowed them. Your then boyfriend at the time: Richard Dubois, son of an alleged mobster, was getting handsy with the Judge’s daughter. Your firey temper got the better of you, and the words “fucking bitch” left you quicker than the common sense did as you threw your drink on her.

The tabloid nightmare that followed that night almost made your father’s head explode. His furious words echoed in your mind.

“Rich brat strikes again! Party-girl daughter of the running Senator spills the gossip AND drink on— Do you see what you’ve done?!” He reads the article out loud, disdain dripping from each word. “What the hell’s the matter with you?! Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I said sorry..”

“Sorry that I cut your allowance in half,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. Your father sets his phone down, his attention briefly flittering to you. His brows furrowed, as he analyses your outfit. The crinkle in his nose marking his disapproval. “Wick and Constantine will be keeping an eye on you.”

“What?!” Your lips part. “You promised I’d get to be on my own tonight.”

“That’s before I remembered you’re a goddamn walking PR nightmare.”

You didn’t respond and he knew he had upset you. Your words were lost as you turned your face away.

“Fine, whatever,” you mumble, hiding the hurt in your tone.

“You pull any stunts, young lady and I’m cutting you off.”

You turn your head back in a shock, not registering what he just said.

“You’re damn near 21 years old, you’re lucky I loved your mother enough to not kick you out,” was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “Wick and Constantine will be keeping me up to date. If I hear a single fuck up from them, you’re done.”

Being monitored and scolded like a child greatly dampened the mood.

Not that these balls were much fun anyways.

The hall was filled with hundreds of familiar faces dressed in the latest fashion. Rival candidates, politicians, judges, criminal affiliates, and of course their children; each more spoiled than the last. There was not a single friendly face in this ball. Each man and woman walked and danced the floors with hungry hearts and dollar signs in their eyes.

Humility was a poor man’s game.

You found yourself talking to a group of girls your own age. Like most rich brats, the conversation turned to competition, each girl showing off whatever luxury adorned her body. Every sly comment or backhanded compliment from them simply bounced off you, as you had no qualms showing off your own expenses.

“My parents are taking us to Cabo next month. We’re staying at the Waldorf,” One of the girls (Aria..? Anna..? You couldn’t be bothered to remember) spoke with amusement at the “awes" coming from the other girls.

“The Waldorf? Oh that cute little place?” You chime in, sipping your glass of champagne. “I’ve been, like, 4 or 5 times already. This is your first time going?” The girl's eyes widened a little at your audacity, influenced to focus on you now. That’s the one thing you were good at: being the centre of attention. You couldn’t help it. The conversation goes in loops, everyone trying to outshine the other, and eventually your glass turns empty.

“Excuse me,” you clear your throat, disbanding from the circle. Scratching at your skin, the boredom in you grew antsier. You needed some stimulation— something remotely interesting to converse about which wasn’t the stock market peaks, or whatever Fox News was blabbering about.

A notification on your phone alerts your attention, and you check your latest message. Your group chat is filled with details about a party going on a few blocks down from here. Unable to stop the grin growing on your lips, you glance around the room. You prayed that maybe your father wasn’t serious about Constantine and John being on your ass all night. With no sight of two men in black, you make your way towards the exit of the ball.

As you walk down the halls of the ball, a hand gently wraps around your elbow.

“Where are you going?”

You were a bit taken aback at the way John holds your elbow.

“Salsa dancing,” you mock, tugging your arm back. “The bathroom, obviously.” The lie flows off your tongue like water. But he wasn’t as stupid as you hoped.

The dark eyed man looks down at you with a blank stare, as though he doesn’t believe you. He straightens his back, his hand moving back to his side. You swallow, trying to bury the goosebumps swimming on your skin.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” you raise a brow.

“Okay. Go then,” he says to you.

“Well.. yeah..” you stammer, pushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t need your permission.”

John’s eyes never leave your figure as you keep walking. Pretending to head to the bathroom, you hide behind the half-wall, occasionally peeking back to make sure he wasn’t looking. Once the coast was clear, your heels clicked against the polished floors as you left the party all giddy.

The techno beat of the music, along with vibrant flashing lights stinging your eyes, made your movements only more sluggish in this dingy club. Having just entered the party, you were whisked away by some “friends” and immediately handed some shots to do.

You were merely four blocks from where the ball was taking place, and you were quite proud of yourself for slipping past your father and his Shining Twins. Not that it was a hard feat, apparently. You haven’t seen those morons almost the entire night.

You down your third shot, the liquor burning your throat deliciously as your friends cheer you on. Granted, they were just people you linked up to get trashed with rather than actual friends— but it beats drinking alone.

“Hey baby, let me get some of that,” a random male voice calls out from behind you.

“In your dreams!” You call back, earning a whistle and a few chuckles from drunk wannabe frat boys. The incessant pick up lines and cat calling rolls off your back at this point, keeping your focus on the party girls who keep taking shots and howling along to the music.

Sure enough, you lose track of time. Beads of sweat form on your forehead while you sway your hips along to the beat, dancing with your girls. Your throat almost raw from shouting the lyrics over the bass, you’re completely amiss to your phone that’s exploding with missed calls.

You’re in the middle of downing another shot when a warm presence is felt on your back. Annoyance etched on your face, realising that frat boy was back, you turn around “Look, asshole— I already said—”

“Ouch, sweetheart."

Your face falls at the sight of Constantine’s contrived smile.

“Oh fuckkkk,” you whisper, a little too loudly. “Constantine— hey— wow—”

“Wow indeed,” Constantine interrupts, grabbing your bicep. With a loud “hey!”, you slap at his tight grip as he drags you through the sea of drunk partygoers. Your anger turns to pleading then to bratty complaints once you begin reaching the exit.

“Constantine— wait— c’mon—” You try to interject. His unusually calm disposition brewed the panic in your bones. If Constantine of all people was calm— that was your indicator you fucked up. Normally you could play off your rule-breaking tendencies with some witty banter, but tonight was not the night.

As the older man hauls you out of the club, onto the chilly New York streets, you lock eyes with your other bodyguard. John stood in front of a black car, his dark suit almost blending into it. His muscular arms crossed on his chest as Constantine nearly shoves you in front of him.

“Look let’s not freak out now—”

“Get in the car,” when he spoke, it was like there was gravel in his throat. You’ve never heard such a commanding tone from him before.

You sat with your tail between your legs in the backseat of the black mustang. The air was suffocating you and slowly sobering you up, nervous chills dancing on your spine. The two men sat in the front, with John driving as always.

“I was just—”

“No.” John says bluntly.

“But I–”

“No.”

“John plea—”

“Save it,” he commands, his tone quiet but deadly. You glance up at the rearview mirror, looking to Constantine for some backup. He barely turns his head from where he’s sat in the passenger’s seat, looking back at you.

“Can’t help you here, kid,” his voice lackluster, before turning back to facing the road.

You were in for it.

“Have you lost your mind?”

The deja-vu nearly makes you sick. You were sitting in your disgustingly pink bedroom, on your soft queen-sized bed. John stood diagonal to you, in his typical stoic position as Constantine boredly spun around in your desk chair.

“No,” you retort in a duh tone. “I was just trying to have fun.”

“Ah yes, drinking and illegal substances— perfect idea of fun,” Constantine scoffs, his face in an uncharacteristic frown.

“There were no drugs!” You defend.

“Like we’re going to believe that,” John says coldly, earning a jaw drop from you. Sure you were spoiled, complained a lot, and lacked common sense— but you weren’t a liar! Swallowing, you look back up at John’s intense gaze.

“I was just having some fun— Jesus!— The ball was so goddamn boring, I literally thought I would fall asleep!”

“So dramatic,” John grumbles, his dismissive tone so similar to that of your father, it makes you snap.

“Go fuck yourself!” you huff bitterly.

“Watch your mouth,” they warned in a chilling tandem, their voices tinged with a cold edge. Your eyes widened a little at their unified scolding, causing your ego to shrink down. The chair squeaks as Constantine stands up, now joining John’s side.

“Look, I’m sorry, I snuck out,” you sigh, your apology as insincere as it gets. “Are we cool now?”

“No we’re not cool now,” John jeers, mocking your inflection. “You realise you could’ve gotten in serious trouble right?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t—”

“Because I had to drag your ass out of there. Who even let you in? You’re not even 21 yet,” Constantine’s brow stitched together, judgement filling his words. Your hands weakly gesture to your figure, the low cut dress speaking for itself. Constantine rolled his eyes, while John released an exasperated sigh.

“Your father’s gonna have a field day with that one..” John taking out his phone made your heart drop.

“Woah—woah— wait no— why are you calling him?” You stammer, jumping up from your spot. The two guards share a look before turning back to you, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Maybe because his daughter not only snuck out, but went drinking on one of the most important days of his life?” John explains, but you were well aware already.

“And so we don’t get fired,” Constantine interjects.

You opened your mouth but John was already scrolling to find your father’s contact information. Suddenly you grab at his wrist, soft pleas leaving your lips. Finally cracking through his blank expressions, he raises his eyebrows a little at how weak you sound.

If I hear a single fuck up from them, you’re done.

You couldn’t get cut off. You weren’t built for anything outside of partying and shopping.

“Please don’t tell him, please,” you ask, the mirth in your voice fading. John clears his throat, his interest clearly piqued and he lowers his phone. You looked uneasily between the two brawny men, as they awaited your next words. “Please.. I’ll do anything. I’m really sorry.”

Batting your lashes, you can see the cogs turning in their heads. You weren’t stupid. You were stupid hot–— but not stupid. Constantine’s little jokes always had some flirty undertones, and as high and mighty John says he is, you definitely caught him readjusting while you were trying on dresses.

Before John could pick his phone back up, Constantine swoops in. “Hang on a minute,” as he holds his hand over John’s wrist. “Anything?”

You bite your lip, nodding.

Constantine side eyes his cohort, his pink lips turning up from a frown into a sly grin. John’s lack of protest or offence at the suggestion only affirmed what you knew. You take a step closer, purposely amplifying the sad bambi look in your eyes. Your delicate hands resting on either chest of John and Constantine, manicured fingers toying with their ties. “It’ll be our secret..”

“Fuck,” was the weak groan that fell from John’s lips. His body betrays him, and he feels his cock twitching underneath the slacks you’re hastily working to get off. The man in black lies back against your fluffy pillows, and headboard, with you on all fours, and Constantine at the end.

Constantine sponges soft kisses from your lower hip, all the way up your spine, his hands sliding the silky dress further up and up. Meanwhile, your own hands are pulling at John’s pants, slowly tugging them down, exposing his dark happy trail.

“No bra on? Dollface, I’m shocked,” Constantine taunts. He’s knelt right behind you on the bed, his huge hands stroking your sides before cupping your pillowy breasts. You whine, looking at John through your long lashes as Constantine toys with your sensitive buds. The bearded man leans up a little, helping to take your baby blue dress off before tossing it to the side. A wave of shyness overcomes you, your naked body aside from panties being eyed hungrily by two men who want nothing more than to taste you.

Constantine pulls you up, your back pressed to his clothed chest as he pinches at your nipples. John’s gaze never leaves your flustered face, and you feel his hands on your hips. Constantine’s lips leave faint kisses on your ear and neck, as both pairs of hands grope and squeeze your soft skin.

“Isn’t she fuckin’ pretty?” Constantine’s baritone voice echoes in the shell of your ear, his huge hands still massaging your breasts. John simply chuckles, his fingers hooking the sides of your skimpy pink panties.

“Prettier when her mouth’s shut,” John muses. The cool draft hits your exposed skin as John slides your underwear down, leaving you bare and ready to be feasted on. John’s calloused finger trails your inner thigh before reaching your slit. His digit traces over your clit, gently stroking it in slow circles.

“John—” you whisper breathlessly.

“Sir,” he corrects.

Constantine pushes you back down, and your face now inches from John. The sound of Constantine’s clothes ruffling as he unbuttons his shirt, piques your excitement, and you can’t help squirming your hips.

The sound that left you was embarrassing as a cold glob of spit trickles from Constantine’s mouth down to your cunt. John watches how you unravel as Constantine’s touch, and he holds tightly onto your jaw. Your big doe eyes are forced to stare into his dark irises, and he drinks in every whimper and squeal coming from those pretty lips.

Constantine pushes his index finger into you, and you bite your lip hard. The two men chuckle quietly at your reactions, and Constantine flusters you when he comments on how tight you are. Your nails gently pinch into John’s thighs, and you feel his hand on the back of your neck.

You take the hint as your fingers pull his cock out from his slacks. Swallowing, your eyes widen a little at the size, your hand barely wrapping around the base. John’s lips press to your temple.

“Suck,” he says lowly,

“Yes.. sir..” the word drips with sin as you lower your head. Pressing pecks to his tip, you generously spit on your hand to lube his cock. John can’t hold back a groan, your pretty little hand stroking his cock while Constantine fingers you was a sight to behold.

Your mouth was so wet and warm, your lips stretched to the brim as you lowered your head even further. John’s large hand rests on the back of your head, keeping you in your place and making you gag. Your heart stuttered at the action, the near lack of oxygen filling your bones with panic and adrenaline. He only lets you up when you choke, and there’s a long clear line of spit connecting from your lip to his cock. You wipe your mouth, using the extra spit to stroke his girth once more.

Meanwhile, Constantine’s slacks dropped as well. You mewl when he pulls his finger back, leaving your needy hole empty temporarily. His pelvis pressed against you, and you felt something hard. Your eyes closed as you welcomed the sensation of his cock teasing you, collecting the slick off your weeping cunt. His tip prods at your entrance, barely filling your desperate hole.

Constantine smirks at your muffled whimpers, the obscene sounds eliciting from you sucking John off only made his own cock harder. “Daddy’s little girl is such a cockslut, who’da thought?”

“You’d do anything to not lose daddy’s money, huh? Even fucking the help?” John croons coldly, and the heat blooms in your cheeks. John’s hand tightens as it finds a home on the back of your head, his fingers pulling at your hair as he drags your mouth up and down his cock.

“Not the first time— probably the only reason the other guards stuck around as long as they did, right?” Constantine lies just to rile you up. He was not gentle as he pushed his way into you, making you gag once again. His hips rolled against you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Constantine’s fingers dug painfully into your sides, each motion of him pulling you back and forth on his cock rattled your body. Your moans and pants vibrated against John’s cock, your tongue flat against the base.

You gasp for air as John pulls you off once again, his fingers smearing the drool and cum from your lips all across your mouth and chin. Eyes shut in fear as he pats your face condescendingly. “You like being used like this, hm?” John’s tone is gentle even if his words are mean.

You nod mindlessly, hand still stroking his cock. John tilts his head to watch where Constantine’s hips and your ass meet, his cock no doubt buried deep into your sopping cunt, and John licks his lips. “Use your words.”

“I— I like—” you pant, as Constantine leans forward, pressing his now bare chest to your back. You relied on John for support, little squeals falling from your wet lips as he ruts relentlessly into you. “I like being used— yes— yes sir—”

“Oh, she fuckin’ likes it..” Constantine mocks your whines, his lips graze your ear. “What would daddy dearest think if he saw you like this? Fucking the men he pays to watch you?”

Your eyes flutter closed, mouth parted open slightly as Constantine fucks you stupid. His cock sliding in and out of you with ease at this point, as you leave a ring of white at the base of his dick.

His thrusts come to a gradual halt, his cock pulling out of you. He would be lying if he said he didn’t love the sight of you clenching around air, begging to be filled like the needy girl you are. Suddenly you feel John manhandling your hips, pulling your chest against his. He shifts his hips a little lower, lining up your sensitive entrance with his shaft. Your thighs were a trembling mess as you hovered right over him. Like a fleshlight, he lowers you painfully slowly down on him, letting you feel each inch stretching you apart.

Constantine’s lips ghost your shoulder blades and he kisses along your shoulder, his huge hands back on your breasts. You’re surprised that John hasn’t shifted once, and instead is letting himself be snug inside your warm hole.

Your curiosity turns to alarm when you feel a wet sensation on your other opening.

“No— wait— I’ve never—” your stutters were merely shushed by both men, and a sharp spank from Constantine. John’s hands hold your hips tight and Constnatine pushes you down, so you’re chest to chest with John. With a forced arch, Constantine parts your cheeks, further exposing your holes.

You squirm a little, begging for any stimulation from John’s end, but he remains completely still.

“I’ll be gentle.. Promise,” Constantine offers you reassurance in the form of a gentle hand on your back. Inhaling sharply as you feel his tip probe your puckered hole, John’s hand strokes the side of your face. Your breathing was shallow as you looked at him with worried eyes.

“Shh.. look at me,” John whispers, pulling your face close as he slots his lips against yours. This mini distraction allows for Constantine to slide in a little deeper, releasing a hiss of his own. Your whimpers of pain were swallowed by John as you stretched around Constantine. Soon enough, the two men were lodged deep inside you, and you felt full to the brim.

Tears kissed your eyes in the sudden shift in atmosphere, and with the contrasting feel of pain and pleasure of having two men inside you at the same time. Constantine kisses behind your ear, and John along your lips and cheek.

“Taking us so well, dollface,” Constantine croons.

“You’re doing so good for us, c’mon..” John whispers.

Your tears do nothing for your pain, but earn the gentle affection of John and Constantine. The pain spikes when they both begin to move in and out slowly. Your manicure digs into John’s muscular chest, and it pushes out a quiet moan from him.

Their thrusts gradually quicken, and their caring personas begin to drop once again. Constantine’s hands cup the fat of your ass tightly, keeping you spread as he oogles the way he and John’s dicks disappear inside both your holes. The two men can’t help how fucking good you feel. Like the giving gift, they will gladly keep taking.

“It hurts, hurts—” you whine softly, eyes squeezed shut as tears roll down your flushed cheeks.

“I know, baby, I know,” John hums, his words not matching his actions as he keeps moving your hips up and down. Their strokes were fast and hard, and with Constantine pressed against your back, you felt completely sandwiched between them both.

Their pants and grunts mix in with your airy, feminine cries of pleasure. They were too occupied in watching the way your ass jiggled or how your tits bounced with each roll of their hips. The spoiled little brat they once knew, was now a whimpering, flushed mess: your doe eyes all teary and lips swollen from how hard you’re biting them.

“Our girl’s making us feel so good— it’s what we deserve after the shit you put us through tonight,” Constantine pants, putting his foot up which makes his cock plunge even deeper into your ass.

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry—” your shaky tone comes out, forcing in a painful breath as you cry, the voice of reason in your mind going right out the window.

“No more sneaking out after this right? Gonna be a good girl? Listen to what you’re told?” John coos, cradling your clammy hand on his chest. You can barely speak, so you nod feverishly. You’d agree to anything at this point.

“I think the poor thing wants to cum,” Constantine pulls your head back, and your neck cranes as you look back at him over your shoulder. He sees the fucked out gaze in those pretty irises, and feels the tension in your clench. “Should we let her?”

“I think she’s had enough,” sent relief through your body. You couldn’t even tell who’s fingers pressed against your clit, but all you know is that it made the coil in your belly tighten. The quick circles on your bundle of nerves, was enough to send over the edge, and you exhale a loud moan. The tension in your tummy snaps, as your fluttering walls tighten through your climax.

Meanwhile, your two bodyguards were still chasing their own highs, using your trembling frame like a doll at this point. You could hardly comprehend a thing until the feeling of warm, thick release filled both your holes. All three of your exhausted pants filled the sweaty, sex-smelling room, and you finally collapsed against John’s chest. The animalistic growls came to a halt as they stilled inside you.

“Hey, hey..” a few gentle pats to the face jolt you awake. A little squelch can be heard when Constantine pulls out of you first, with John following. The brawny men lays you on your back, ignoring the dribbles of cum leaking from your holes. “You okay?” Constantine pats your face, a flash of concern on his face.

You nod tiredly, eyes drooping. The mascara stained your face, and the glitter lipgloss was nowhere to be seen anymore.

“Did so well for us,” John says calmly, kissing the corner of your mouth. The stoic, cold, brute you once knew was now gently soothing your sensitive body.

“Good girl.” Your heart flipped.

“Our little secret, right?” Constantine smirks, trying to lighten the mood. Licking your dry lips, you give him a lazy smile.

“Our little secret,” you reaffirm tiredly.

Fin.

constantine and wick taglist: @hamburgerslippers @alwaysinblck @emosludge @nwheregirl @beansricejc @sughcashsaiki @namjoons-crabssss @scream-queen-25 @slutforsoldierboy @hamburgerslippers @redhotelroom. @dyysania @ilovedilfs4ever @aerangi @spacemonkeyfitz @97keanu @hqkkinen @Faowhe @indiadnm @ratsnestinmyhair @kellysvintagedarling @omfgwhoisthat @desolatewrath

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১⠀join or leave my taglist.

#keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john constantine x reader #john wick imagine #john constantine imagine #john wick smut #john constantine smut #bodyguard au #john wick x reader x john constantine

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pachimation · 6 months

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redrawing my very first chiscara comic/art i ever did for chscr day!!

old comic under the cut!!

lol a bunch of sappy semi serious stuff below bc i cant help but be a bit genuine about this ship today :’3

i cant possibly put into words how important this silly little ship and its community mean to me haha,,,, this comic was made in 2021 but i didnt really get serious about chscr until late 2022 after a bunch of pretty bad interpersonal stuff happened and i needed an outlet,, COINCIDENTALLY a certain someone was announced to be playable around then and i was already thought chscr was Pretty Neat™️ so i ended up diving headfirst into the ship. it also gave me a good excuse to work on more comics too!! i’d done a pretty big zhongven comic earlier that year in the summer, but in terms of lore there was only so much i could have worked with at the moment.

childe and scaramouche have that perfect combination of silliness and angst and violence that could be explored or expanded in so many ways and i love love love seeing other people’s interpretations of their dynamic and relationship. they’re so complex,,,,they’re narrative foils,,,they’re narrative parallels,,,they’re trans allegories,,,they’re flies in the spiderweb of the games lore,,,they’re my stupid little meow meows,,, they’re just two losers i want to see make out,,,

in a nutshell, they’re everything to me. well, i hope i get that kind of sentiment across in my own comics,,,,

and i cant get started on all the people ive met through chiscara or the way that having something i can call “my thing”, as in, the thing that i like and that i will spend a lot of time and effort (and money, but lets not talk about that) to surround myself with because it makes me smile. its stupid to say, but being a nerd about these two stupid guys who have never had a single canon onscreen interaction in some random game has made me a much happier and confident person that i could have ever imagined back in my freshman year of college,,, when i say i dont know who i’d be if i hadnt gotten into chiscara, i really do mean it lol

i’m actually surprised i’m making it to over a full year of regular-ishly making art, especially for the same game and ship! thats never happened before and my art has improved so much over this past year!! more than anything else, i’m happy! i get to be excited talking about these characters with my friends and i love to see art of them pop up on the tl. i make stickers of them and decorate my phonecase with them and have little figures of them in my room that i look at when im up late at night working on schoolwork. sometimes just the thought of finishing a comic or daydreaming about a scenario or seeing what my mutuals are up to are some of the few things getting me through a tough day.

,,,,so believe me when i say, to both childe and scara and to everyone else as obsessed with these pathic losers as i am, thank you! i’m having a lot of fun!!!

(also i just found out tumblrs copy/paste doesnt work on my ipad??? idk if this ends up legible i may or may not have deleted smth by accident and im not in a mood to proofread haha)

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #scaramouche #chiscara #scarachilde #my art #comic #no super long rant in the tags this time bc i already made a chscr rant haha #happy chiscara day everybody!!

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catsharky · 4 months

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May I ask for some details about your Tav? What do you mean by hasnt really lived as a tiefling before? Like literally has never seen another tiefling? Seems like being abducted by the mindflayers introduced major life changes to your Tav

I'm sorry this took so long to answer, but I ended up doing a whole bunch of art to answer this!

Ember has a really extensive backstory that's kind of long, but the short version of it is: she was caught in the crossfire of a deal her parents made with a devil. They couldn't have a child of their own because her mother was too severely ill, so they made the deal in the hopes of returning her health and along with it the ability to bear children. Unfortunately devil deals being what they are, they ended up with Ember who the devil stole from her birth parents.

Her mom was a high elf and her dad a half-elf, and her mom's side of the family were quite vocally anti-Tiefling. Because of her mother's health problems, however, they couldn't just sever contact with her parents because they relied on their money to cover the cost of healers, expensive potion ingredients and the like. They couldn't be trusted not to be a threat to Ember though, so the decision was made to disguise her as their biological daughter throughout her childhood.

Here's an age chart!

As a result, Ember didn't even know she was a Tiefling until she was around 4 or 5, when she began to present as a sorcerer and accidentally undid the disguise spell (she ends up a bard thanks to her mom, but her control of magic comes from sorcery).

Before the events of the game, the most time she ever spent as a Tiefling was when she was 13- when her mom died and her dad disappeared, the disguise spell having relied on her mum's magic. She went through hell for a while after that and as soon as she could learn how to cast the spell herself, she jumped at the chance and went back to living as her old half-elf self. So when she gets taken by the Nautiloid, it's her being forced to actually live as her real self and as a Tiefling for the first time. As a result she doesn't have great control over her tail, because she's just straight up not used to having one.

She also spends a lot of Act 1 jumpscaring herself whenever she walks by a mirror lmao.

I do plan to do some comics that are set earlier in the game at some point, and those ones will explore more of her backstory. What I've done so far has just happened to be set in Act 3, after she's already sorted a lot of her shit out. I just have no idea when that'll actually be!

#rhubarbtonapalooza #sharky speaks #I could go on pretty much forever about Ember's backstory if I let myself #So please feel free to ask more questions about her please enable me #I tried to write her with the same level of complexity as the other companions including Durge #so she has a full character arc and side quest that resolves in Act 3 #but I wrote the main stuff out in bullet points once and it ended up being 1.5k words #so there's a reason I can't just lay it all out in one go #I'd end up with Do You Love the Colour of the Ember Lore #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #my tav #sharky's tav #tav: ember #oc: ember #Ember lore drop #sharky art

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enam3l · 2 years

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these days, rockstar Eddie doesn't give a fuck

read all rockstar eddie stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie

In 2022 Eddie Munson former lead guitarist and backing vocalist for Corroded Coffin is 57 and he's living his best life

He nearly breaks the internet when in an interview looking back on his career he casually mentions he's bisexual. He said any of his old fans who are bigots are gonna get the shock of their lives when they realise half the songs he wrote before he met his wife were about men.

Eddie is the ultimate girl dad and he loves it. You gave him three beautiful daughters and he stopped touring until they were at least teenagers because he just wanted to be a stay at home dad

His youngest is 22, he once admitted he was pretty suspicious about Y2K so spent the turn of the century in bed with you. Thank god the world didn't end because 9 months later you had your second child together. It also resulted in Corroded Coffin's best selling single to this day 'Millennium Babe'

Speaking of his kids, his oldest daughter came out as a lesbian. Since then every year Eddie is spotted pretty drunk with his family at pride

People are desperate for him to write an autobiography but legally he can't. The CIA made him sign a contract to make sure he doesn't let anything slip about Hawkins and The Upside Down

He's still a huge nerd. The invention of Comic Con was one of the best things to happen to him. He's seen at multiple Comic Cons each year with his old DnD gang

He got an iPhone so he can have group chats with his friends and family. But mainly it was so he could sext you whenever you were apart

Eddie does not know how to use social media so anything he wants to share, he makes his daughters do it for him. He likes to share film and music recommendations with fans and also any nice pictures he takes of you

Once drunk on an Instagram Live with his daughters, he revealed he actually has a tramp stamp. It's a butterfly you drew with your name underneath, you have a matching one with his name. You'd both got them done on a holiday for your anniversary

The best part of being a rockstar with money was spending on the people he loves. He will never admit how much he spent to get Dustin a cameo in one of the new Star Wars movies as a Wookiee

i am so drunk on making rockstar eddie content, let me know if you want more or have any requests 🥺

#enam3l x eddie #enam3ls rockstar eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #dad eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson

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imperiuswrecked · 6 months

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pssst can i please ask you to spoiler the raven baby reveal to me...?

So the summary of X-Men Blue: Origins (2023) Mystique is wandering around New York acting crazy and mumbling about her lost baby, Kurt catches up with her and tries to talk her into calming down.

Kurt gives Raven his sword which breaks the mental barriers and it's revealed that while Raven was married to Baron Wagner, she and Irene were an on again, off again, couple who would hook up with other people whenever it helped their goals.

Raven had hired Irene to be the housemaid so she could stay close while Raven was married to Wagner, using his money/influence as they wanted and having a torrid love affair with Irene in private. Azazel shows up and Irene encouraged Raven to have an affair with him as well, because she had visions of the future.

Basically Irene wanted a love child with Raven, but needed Azazel to believe he was the father because she knew that unless Kurt was set on a path to be his constant foe/destroyer of his plans then Azazel would rise to power.

Irene's visions aren't something she can stop and she lives her life according to how to bring about her visions but she doesn't tell Raven any of this until 5 years after Kurt's birth. So she and Raven have a child, Kurt, and from my understanding of the reading, Mystique can copy the genes down to a molecular level and took the gene patterns from Azazel and Baron Wagner and impregnated Irene. So Kurt doesn't have 2 parents, he has 4, well 5 including Margali Szardos who was his adopted mom. Kurt is now battling for the #1 spot for "most parents and most confusing parental origin in comics" and he's up against the Maximoff twins who have gone through 3 sets of parents.

Back to the story, Raven dumps Azazel who is such a pathetic loser, I love that lol. Raven fakes being pregnant by shapeshifting to look like she is pregnant as the months go by. Baron Wagner discovers his wife's affairs, and being the homophobe he is, is stabbed by Raven who then spends the next few months switching between forms to make people believe that the Baron and his wife are both still around, waiting until Irene gives birth. I'm guessing because Raven intended to use the Baron's money/pretending to be him so she and Irene could live in comfort or until they wanted to move on.

Irene is the one who gives birth to Kurt, and Raven overcome with joy/love for Kurt doesn't want his first sight of her to be human so she reveals herself.

The townspeople are of course in an uproar, want to kill the demon woman and her demon child, Irene tells Raven to get to safety and that she would be ok, but Raven fears for Irene so she leaves Kurt under a tree and rushes back to kill the people who would hurt her wife and discovers Irene is missing, she runs back to find Kurt and he's gone too.

Five years pass and she finds Irene again, this time watching a young Rogue, Irene reveals everything to Raven, the Azazel vision, Irene needed Kurt to be raised as an outcast etc. Raven and Irene both know they are in a toxic relationship, but they love each other too much so they went to the one man who can make everything worse, Charles Xavier. Of course Xavier does what he does best, erases people's memories and implants new ones.

So now Kurt has 2 deadbeat mutant moms, 1 deadbeat demonic mutant father, 1 dead human father, and 1 adopted mother and they all give him the most drama & trauma that you will ever see in comics! Love wins (?)

I am currently taking donations to hire Kurt a therapist (who isn't Professor X), save an elf's sanity and donate /jk

I will say that this origin, though very messy, does at least confirm that Irene is just as messy/toxic as Raven, so I hope they continue to be totally bad for each other and 100% in love, which is very refreshing to see in wlw couples and I really hope they do not try to soften their edges, especially Raven's, I do not want a "good mother Raven", but time will tell. Also finally Kurt is Baron Wagner's son technically due to partially copied genetics so it finally makes sense for why Kurt has the Wagner last name, which is something that always bugged me, because imo if he had zero connection to the Baron then he wouldn't have the Wagner last name. Also this doesn't invalidate the Azazel retcon from before because again technically Azazel believes Kurt is his son, and Kurt does have partially copied genetics from Azazel.

I think it was a really tough balancing act to have to write, I wish it could have been written a bit better or the thoughts of Rogue actually being Irene/Raven's daughter would have worked better. Like imagine if Raven and Irene were both pregnant, Irene had Rogue and Raven had Nightcrawler or Irene had them both as twins, then they wouldn't just be foster/adopted siblings but also bio siblings, and it could have opened up the door for more stories involving them as brother and sister trying to deal with their mothers. Marvel constantly ignores the potential for Rogue and Kurt's sibling dynamic and I wish we got more of it in the comics. I get that the writer was trying to keep to the old canon while creating the new canon and using the original plan for Kurt's parentage, so while I feel it's way too complicated this is also comics where complicated plots and retcons have been a long standing tradition meant to torment us readers.

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #mystique #raven darkholme #irene adler #destiny #baron wagner #darkholme family #rogue #azazel #imp answers #wednesday spoilers #x men

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yunxi-11085 · 11 months

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Jing Yuan x reader & our child yanqing!!

I just want baby yanqing being a lil silly troublemaker and reader(you) just letting him go no matter what because he's so freaking cute??? you couldn't help it when he showed you his super move of puppy face.. later on Jing yuan might need to learn it from yanqing hehe but jing yuan would be upset, like yanqing broke his favorite cup but he just gets a little scolding and can go back to playing w/ toys... with the excuse of him being too cute that you must let him go

time skip to when yanqing is a teen and jing yuan finally gets to take his revenge by hiding some of yanqing's favorite swords

that would make yanqing superrr upset but he doesn't know who stole his favorite swords.. so he can't confront them abt it and then because you know who stole his lil swords so you secretly gave yanqing some allowance to buy more swords? jing yuan doesn't even know where all that money comes from keke

reminded by this small comic(?) where Jing yuan is disappointed at yanqing for buying new swords but you couldn't help but give him more money when he asks for it because he's tOO cute (( like even if I weren't related to him I'd do ANYTHING to make this baby smile like this aaa

a few sword buying trips later and jing yuan started noticing n he gets jealous~~ you're little hubby getting jealous of the son you both adore~~

so during this morning when you n your hubby wakes up together in bed, he asks "what are your plans for today?" today you are supposed to accompany yanqing to meet some officials! which is the job other people should be doing but you wanted to spend more time with your son.

"how about we go on a date today, just the two of us." he said. but wasn't he supposed to be at work today? "I'm sure the diviner would be willing to let me have a break once in a while" he was sure, but you weren't sure.

he stands up and reaches out for your hand, "it's been a long time since we've went out together"

you were tempted to go with him but you still had to meet up with qingque too right? you promised her that you wanted to learn mahjong from her.

and then you looked back up at his face— oh my.... yanqing??? the general of the cloud knights, looking at you with such puppy—

"uh... sure then" you shyly said, it's a once and a lifetime to see this face... you must treasure it in your brain for years to come even though you already have yanqing's puppy face in there too

nn~ Jing yuan hides you from yanqing the whole day

I'm gonna add more tmrw I need to sleep aaa

update :: I'm now awake and leTs continue

Jing Yuan x reader w/ our child yanqing (jelly Jing yuan time~~)

you don't know but, Jing yuan purposely brought you to restaurants where he knew that yanging wouldn't be in and disrupt the little love time you both have. yesterday while he was sulking in the divine foresight he went and calculated where is the best route to not see yanqing for a day ImAO

imagine doing that to your son

anyways, Jing yuan was being super nice and caring the entire time, if you wanted a little teddy bear he'd buy it for you, etc. etc. if he caught you ogling at some cupcakes or sweets from the window he'd bring you inside and let you taste every one of them!

if you didn't notice, some people were giggling and smiling at your cute interaction. the general of xianzhou on a date with his cute s/o!

it was near afternoon now and you've already visited all the places you wanted to go.

"hm I know the perfect place to go, angel" imagine Jing yuan calling you angel while you call him hubby ImFaokskmskandn I'm single af why am I writing this

you both go on a walk together while holding hands.. the sun is setting and.... oh this man is so pretty. you know it, we all know it. but even all the years of marriage nd being together you still couldn't get over how your hubby is so so pretty.

the radiance of the sun from behind him while he looks at you with those loving eyes.. your heart flutters at the sight.

and guess what? he brings you to a small cafe, and it was full of cats.. and birds. >> you know whose the biggest bird n cat lover here

you squeal at the sight and almost immediately jump inside to pat the little furries...

the last part of the date was so romantic. the staff was super welcoming and the tea tasted so good. It's like our first date all over again. you chuckled and Jing yuan laughed as well.

"we can consider this as our first date together as a married couple then" which funny enough truly is, because every other time it's the three of you together on a family trip.

when the date is over, and you and Jing yuan walk back. he holds your hand tightly with fingers intertwined. he makes sure he walks side by side because of the major size difference between you two.. and if he walks how he usually does you will probably have to run to catch up to him every step

'maybe we should do more of these in the future..'

when you arrive home, you will probably bring out a sandal to Jing yuan because he failed to tell qingque that you are going when you reminded him to atleast tell someone to send a message to her.

yanqing runss to you and you barely had time to react before Jing yuan picks the young boy up with his two large hands by the waist.

"WAh-

"slow down yanqing, we need to rest." Jing yuan says before putting the boy down.

hm? I'm not tired though?

Jing yuan got the message but nonetheless he drags you to your shared bedroom leaving the poor boy behind

hah...

jelly Jing yuan is my thing now I need him to be a jelly little baby for me hehe

I'm probably gonna make more yuus

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr au #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan #honkai jing yuan #jing yuan #hsr #hsr jing yuan #yanqing x reader #yanqing #hsr fanfic #h

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sinisterexaggerator · 10 months

Text

... In this essay, I will reiterate that "Cad Bane is a depressed, sentimental bastard."

OK, so, @fat-tasty-krogan pointed out that the barrels of Bane's LL-30's are rusty in the Bad Batch via a screenshot and now I cannot stop thinking about things and connecting the dots.

Here's me checking different angles. 100% rusty. This is a man who is the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, a man who is *the* best shot — that’s his livelihood right there. Something is wrong.

I've always thought Cad Bane was depressed, mostly owing to his behavior in the lost arc, but this solidifies it for me. Let's talk about the canon, shall we? (Fair warning: I may throw in headcanons or share some other thoughts along the way, but I will warn you ahead of time if it's an original idea versus what is considered to be canon).

First, let's take the idea that Jango Fett is mentor to Cad Bane. This in and of itself says to me they had a close relationship and that they often worked together in some capacity. I will spare you my thoughts on the rest, but Jango does in fact associate with him and most likely in a meaningful way we never get to see. Jango Fett does not trust easy, yet he trusts him enough to be around his child; his prized possession, let's say.

Proof: When Boba first mentions Bane, (in chorological order) it is in the comics.

Him asking to spend time with Bane, and Jango saying "no, because you already know of him (and others like Zam)," means they had a close-knit relationship in my opinion. One that sadly comes to an end. In this comic, Jango wants to train Boba to deal with "the factor of the unknown," versus the known. Hmmm.

Moving right along.

The next time we see or hear anything about Boba and Cad being in the same room is during the Rako Hardeen/Box Arc, and in the audiobook CW: Stories of Light and Dark in the short story "Bane's story" that is read by Corey Burton as Cad Bane.

In it he states that the "kid's all right," and that he "owed his father a few favors." In the story, he reiterates what happens between him, Eval, and Obi-Wan to Bossk and little Boba Fett. It was Bossk and Boba who helped to create the diversion so that they could break out and escape.

Bane returns, his job foiled, and explains why. At the end of the audiobook Boba has a plan to get them all out of jail, and he wants Bane to be apart of it. This is AFTER Aurra leaves Boba for dead on Florrum ( don't get me started on Hondo, WHEW - they knew each other too, for SURE ), before TBB, and before we see Bane with a plate in his head, this one:

It is still present in the Book of Boba Fett.

Let's not rush ahead, though. Let's back up to a bit to where Cad Bane gets betrayed.

#1 betrayal on screen is Obi-Wan Kenobi as Rako Hardeen. While I don't necessarily ship them, I can see how Cad was very much hurt by this, as he felt he had started to develop a kinship with another hunter, someone who could watch his back, imo. Maybe he hadn't experienced anything like that since Jango Fett. Maybe Rako was ticking all the right boxes; I see Cad as prizing loyalty. When Obi-Wan turned him over, you could see the pain and anger in expression -- he was truly hurt, and he promised to end his life with a blaster bolt between the eyes. I honestly think he despises him and that's that.

Returning now to Boba, it is also canon that Boba was mentored by Cad Bane. Bane's story is also where he mentioned young Boba often reminded him of himself.

In an unaired Clone Wars Arc, Boba Fett works together with Cad Bane on a job. During the animation created for the episodes that never aired, Bane is seen drinking heavily and seems to give two shits less about Boba or the job itself and is not taking things seriously.

Boba begins to question his tactics, and does not like that he is willing to sacrifice innocent townsfolk just to get a bit of money. He stands up against him, and Embo, Bossk, and other hunters present decide to let him take his shot and do not interfere in their duel, even though most likely Bane is seen to be the one in charge or having authority.

In the end they both fall, but Boba was (unfairly might I add) still wearing his helmet. You can tell that the plates on Bane's hat, however, are also armored. Still, it is not beskar. Bane is severely injured.

#2 betrayal: Bossk and Embo retract their weapons and let Bane go head-to-head with the boy. He even looks surprised in the video footage when they do this! It's the same face he gave Obi-Wan Kenobi!

Boba comes out the winner. We see Bossk with Boba in The Empire Strikes back in the future, and in canon they are known to be seen often together. He especially looked after him in prison on Coruscant.

Thus, we can assume, Bossk went off with Boba after Bane's defeat and joined forces, leaving him for dead. I assume, and in canon it is depicted that Embo is honor-coded. If what he thought Bane was doing was not honorable, he most likely left him for dead as well. What we DO see is Todo 360 being there. I am almost 100% certain it is because of his droid he survives. But, where did he take him for help? Hmmm.... HONDO!! (Kidding, kidding - another HC I have, but ANYWAY).

In fact, Todo states he is Bane's "most trusted confidant" to Omega, and I believe this. He's a grumpy dick, but he never outright punishes Todo for anything, and he messes up quite frequently, but he is also a great help.

I have a headcanon that states his reasonings for keeping Todo, though this has no basis in canon:

"The little shit comes back after he is blown apart by a bomb Cad himself planted to go off in the Jedi Temple. Todo is loyal. He's there for him. He doesn't mind he's a grump. He provides conversation; stimulation in the otherwise solitary hours he spends in space. He becomes a comfort, someone to talk to, someone to fill the void that Jango left behind." Perhaps he also acts in the same capacity as a service animal.

Anyway, it is known what Bane thinks about clones. "Once you figure one out, de rest are easy." I don't think he liked clones, even if he tolerated and respected Boba until a certain point in time. He was different, he had "his father's blood pumping through his veins," and maybe Bane had trouble staring at that face - looking in those eyes -especially if there was more to him and Fett's relationship.

Imagine how he must have felt when he betrayed him? When he shot him? When he failed at repaying Jango's favor and failed at being Boba's mentor?

I personally do not believe Bane would have agreed to the Clone contract idea as far as his opinion. I think he would have told Fett he was crazy to have millions of himself running around out there, that there is only one of him that's the real deal. Let's add this to the fact he has to see their dead and dying faces everywhere to the point he's so numb he shoots them every chance he gets - no big deal. No big deal to have to kill one of your partner's lookalikes everyday for nearly the rest of your life, eh? Even after Jango himself is already dead.

Coming to The Bad Batch, it was pointed out by another user that when Omega is looking for a way off Bane's ship, we see some medallions/coins/ingots that have the symbol of the Mythosaur in a cabinet she is searching. That is Mandalorian. Who was Mandalorian? Jango. Boba by default. They are accompanied here by a journal. I think it could be Boba's journal, too. The boy most likely resided with him on his ship as he had the Justifier during the lost arc and they were traveling together.

That man is 100% a sentimental bastard.

You could say he hated Boba. You could say he was his number one enemy, but deep down maybe he felt remorse. He had been drinking. Why? Maybe it was hard to be in Boba's company. Maybe he felt he could have prevented Jango's death. Maybe mentoring him was hard work, but in the end, Boba betrayed him after everything he had tried to do for him. And Bane liked the kid up until this point - said so himself in Bane's story.

In the lost bounty hunter arc, Cad is wearing the same outfit he is in The Bad Batch. Now he has a metal plate in his head. @allsystemsblue mentioned he talks himself up to Shand. Maybe he's trying to convince himself he's as good as he says he is. He headbutts her and it obviously throws him off. He shakes himself out, trying to regain his concentration. I personally headcanon he gets terrible headaches.

The plate is on the OUTSIDE, meaning it's protecting something underneath. I imagine he had a hole in his head and a bit of his skull was fractured. I say he wears the plate to reinforce a soft spot that makes him vulnerable.

Even so, she kicks his ass. He's off his game. Maybe he's been drinking even more since his defeat and embarrassment at the hands of a kid. One he respected, one maybe he called family.

All the other hunters sided with Boba, left him high and dry, and he hasn't even been caring for or polishing his blasters; his moneymakers. They are RUSTY.

He loses Omega, he loses his credits, and Fennec sabotages his ship. This man is pissed. He's at wit's end. For all we know, he sat down and cried afterward before he could figure a way off that damn planet, and the only one who was there for him was Todo.

Years later, we see him confront Boba. He's a hardass. Nothing left of his personality in that show but a villain. It was like they made him extra mean on purpose.

He's still hung up on the past, he says it. He talks about Jango's blood being inside Boba, his "father." He leers at Boba. It is almost as if he takes a pause (again crediting @allsystemsblue for this observation), a moment to truly look at him. And let's not forget the hiss he gives him right before his "final lesson."

"Look out for yourself, anything else is weakness."

GEE! Where did he learn that from, I wonder?! FROM BOBA HIMSELF MAYBE?! He was "weak" for Boba; he was his mentor; he tried his best to do right by his father and train him and he failed. He shot him, left him for dead, betrayed him along with all the other hunters present, and all that was left for him was to work alone. To grin and bear it. To take the jobs that came his way just to survive.

He had to of hit a downward spiral at some point in his life to come to this conclusion; something terrible must have happened, and I guarantee it's this.

Shat on all his life, all the way from being "hatched" in the Descent Ghetto on New Tayana on Duro, poor, coming up from the slums, working hard just to make ends meat.

Can't tell me he didn't have a wall up, and hell yes he was feeling low. What could make a man that mean besides betrayal and sentimentality for something he wishes perhaps he could have changed or prevented all together.

Now he takes the toughest jobs, the ones nobody wants. His reputation is fear and for good reason. He'll do anything for money, including killing innocents according to Boba. Where has his Code of Honor gone?

I'll tell you where.

No one ever respected Cad the way he tried to respect them. No one offered or afforded him the same luxury. Every time he was near to forming a decent partnership with someone, they turned right around and stabbed him in the back. We at least see it with Rako/Obi and Boba on screen. Bossk and Embo count too, for me. Maybe Jango was the only one he could trust. Him and Todo 360, which he was not around until long after Jango's death and in some form could have been a fractional replacement for companionship.

To throw in a few thoughts on Hondo, he knew them both well. Imagine if Hondo also kept secrets from Bane, whether intentional or not, or perhaps befriended him only to manipulate him for his own gain (which is definitely something that could happen). He speaks favorably of him in "Secrets of the Bounty Hunters," and calls him his friend, but he calls everyone that.

At one point they did work together as per the blurb on the back of a toy called the "Pirate Speeder bike," that features Cad Bane and a Starhawk speeder. If Hondo also betrayed him at some point, I can see it only adding fuel to the fire, IF Bane allowed him close to begin with. Considering his reputation, it's possible that no, he did not, but I also ship Cad Bane and Hondo Ohnaka as well as Jango Fett and Cad Bane. I won't go into it here, but I can see them being an insanely toxic, yet perfect match.

To sum it up, yes, he is totally depressed. I feel like this is why. Can't change my mind.

---

P.S.: This is also a lesson in how to cite your sources and give credit where credit is due when thinking about headcanons and fandom fun. :) Ain't so hard, right?

#Cad Bane #Headcanons #Duros #Star Wars #Jango Fett #Boba Fett #Book of Boba Fett #Clone Wars #The Bad Batch #Todo 360 #Bounty Hunters

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pinehutch · 9 months

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When I say that I want to be evil

what I mean is I want to be powerful. What I mean is I want to be free.

Some weeks ago I spent more money than I should have on my first ever (ever!) two-piece swimsuit. You have to understand that as a child I was told I was fat, and as a teen I was told I was fat, and as an adult I've always been fat*, and you can't read your way out of the shame caused not strictly by the word but by its connotations.

(I know, because I've tried. I have been trying for almost twenty years. Looking for plus-sized fashion brought me to the digital 'fatosphere.' It made me a better person as I learned about another dimension of intersectionality and about power and oppression. It made me feel like I could wear clothing that I liked. It made me more informed about the diet and wellness industry. It's been over 20 years since I first read a critique of the BMI; it's been almost as long since I started wondering why gros/se in my close-second language didn't have the same (haha) weight to it as fat does, in my first.)

At the tail end of June, days long and scorching, I stepped into a two-piece swimsuit with a deep-v neckline and my whole midsection exposed and I spent the day in full view of dozens (hundreds?) of strangers. Cold, cold water on the joints; warm, soft pools for the evening. My hair got bigger and bigger. My neck and chest sunburned. My midriff stayed comically, blindingly pale, and everything else? It was lovely; it was fine. I rarely thought about my body, unless it was 'this feels nice' or 'my swimsuit is so pretty.' I took a selfie, even, though I deleted it. I was worried that posting it would count as thirst-trapping; shame has cored out and replaced so much of me. It was a good pic, though, and I wish I'd kept it.

What was true of me that day: I was a quite tall, very fat femme person whose feet swell with arthritis and whose hair takes up the entire frame and who's had cellulite since grade eight. What else was true: many people complimented my swimsuit. I looked out across the valleys and the mountains from the top of my almost-six-feet. I let my shoulders roll back and smiled at the sight of my bare skin gone blue-wavering-dappled beneath the surface. I stood tall. I made eye contact. I enjoyed delightful company, and let that enjoyment extend to the simple pleasure of having a body that felt fairly good, in garments I had chosen for the joy of it.

You can't read your way out of shame; it's only part of the equation. I didn't go swimming the next day with my family members, because I didn't want to feel them looking at my body and being disappointed that What A Beautiful Girl turned out like I did (though: if What A Beautiful Girl then why You Need To Watch What You Eat?). But for an entire day I felt like anyone else, gentle enough, good enough, in my skin.

It would have been good for me to swim with my family that weekend, because I'm finding that - as in all things - the practice is important. You can't read your way out of shame, not entirely, but in working with and through it there's maybe a chance to rewrite our stories.

There's a fallacy that I think a lot of us fall into, when we're trying to counter and challenge fatphobia, both culturally and in ourselves. It's the fallacy of the Good Fat. It's why I want to tell you about how two-pieces are maybe a better swimwear choice for me because of the drastic difference between my tits and hips vs my waist. It's why I wanted to post that selfie, so people could shoutycaps and fire emoji me on twitter. It's why I want to craft this post into a narrative where spending a single day mostly-unburdened by body shame has led to a hot girl summer, and I'm walking for miles every day and going to the pool four times a week. (I'm not. I still have a day job, and writing to do, and a physical disability, and the ol' depression. I'm more active than I was three months ago, and working to improve that, but still. It's not a lot.)

It is, simply, the same lie as we tell ourselves along so many different axes of marginalization: that as long as we are exceptional in a way equal and opposite to our marginalization, we'll be fine. It's the model that says you earn the right to exist fat and unashamed by being healthy, by being active, by being hot. Sorry my hip is squished against yours on the airplane; at least I've got a nice face and good hair and am well-dressed, wanna admire my hip-to-waist ratio about it?

There's no such thing as a Good Fat because we live in an inherently fatphobic world. I mean: airplane seats are too small for anyone average sized. I mean: 20 years ago I was a size 16/18 and couldn't fit into the newer lecture hall seats at my university without a lot of stress and embarrassment. I mean: I can't buy a compression sleeve for my arthritic joints at the drug store. If I ever needed to take Plan B, it might not work because I weigh (as do most adults of my acquaintance) more than 165lbs. You cannot be hot enough or active enough or well-dressed enough to escape from this; the only option is to be Not Fat.

But why on earth would we want to accept this? We know the system is fucked up and evil, and so: we want to be evil. Just a little bit, just enough. We want to be hot villains. We want to serve cunt and to be cunts. We want to nailcare emoji, fire emoji, crown emoji, and we want to take no prisoners unless it's between our thick thick thighs. Sit on their face; if they die, they die. It's fun and sexy, in a world where "everything is sex, except sex, which is power" to dig in and grab handfuls of what looks like empowerment, fuck the rest of it, get what makes you feel best.

It's a mirage; freedom doesn't live there.

Because of course fat people are hot. Fat bodies are desirable. Fat bodies are strong, sometimes, and athletic, sometimes, and powerful in whatever way you'd like to read that. That's true no matter what.

And yet (this will hurt) fat bodies are still (I'm sorry, I'm so sorry) not good enough. If the system is the problem, your individual empowerment is not the (whole) solution.

When I say that I want to be evil, what I mean is I want to be free. I want the strange rare days I've known I was desirable because I was desired, specifically and individually. I want the days where I grant myself dignity. I want the day where I lived peacefully in my mostly-naked body around hundreds of strangers, and went to bed happy.

Reading is input, it's taking in. I can't read my way all the way out of fatphobia, out of body shame because that's like trying to put out a forest fire 2000km away by throwing baking soda on your stove element. (Not harmful, but insufficient and misdirected.) It has been so helpful to know that other people wrestle with all of this, in ways that are more intelligent and expert than mine; it doesn't change material reality, though.

It's not the shame that's the problem, but where it comes from. It's not my internalized fatphobia or low self-worth or lack of body confidence that keeps people from life-saving medical care because their doctors were obsessed with their weight instead of their symptoms. My soft abdomen has never shamed a stranger on the internet, my calves (never in tall boots) haven't forced someone to buy a second seat.

Maybe it's time that I redefine what I mean when I say I want to be evil. I want to be a hot villain that was justified in their takedown of the status quo. I want to put a crown on every head. I want these thick thighs under me as I pull you into my lap and love you, and to use those fire emojis to make room for new growth.

I want us all at the pool together, celebrating as the sun sets.

*I'm using "fat" to here mean something like "size 16 US women's or larger," but there's no good definition

#rambling #fatness #fatphobia #fat liberation #personal #blog post #also tbh:#therapy homework

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murmiss · 1 month

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Headcanons about Yandere Simulator!COD.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Warning: mention of suicide, mention of alcohol, drugs, mental problems, possibly traumatic moments, etc. My personal vision of the character. OOC?

I think he's perfect for the role of Yandere.

His childhood was disgustingly shitty, and you can't blame him for that.

Born into a dysfunctional family, Simon was doomed to a hard life from childhood. His father was a drunk, a bloody alcoholic who prided himself on being able to drink for weeks and stay on his feet. A dirty man, with filthy and sadistic tendencies taken out on those closest to him. A freak who broke everyone he knew, trampling on his own son, turning the poor child into an unwilling broken doll.

Simon remembered those lonely nights in the old shed next to the house, cluttered with trash and rusty tools, like it was yesterday. The cold wind blew through the cracks between the boards, leaving goosebumps on Simon's skin and forcing him to pull his legs tighter together, curling up in a ball to keep warm. A night in the old barn was Mr. Riley's favorite punishment, a man crashing home after another rave binge to find out his son had gotten an F in school? Late for first period? Or maybe spent his pocket money on some silly comic book? - no matter what, Simon will fly instantly to the Locked Shed. No matter what happened, Simon was always drawn to his older brother, who, unfortunately, wasn't as good as his younger brother would have liked. Tommy was a jerk, that bad boy in high school who publicly cursed the teacher, broke the toilet faucet, and did stupid things. But the dumbest thing in Tommy's life was drugs - this jerk decided to prove once again to everyone that he was cool, not realizing that very soon this addiction would consume him, like everyone else who once got addicted. And Simon hovered between two fires, like a child dreaming of a normal family, like a son who had never seen his father smile and never heard praise. And the mother? Mrs. Riley-a dandelion of God, withering rapidly in her husband's dirty hands. She was a beautiful woman, the only person in that family who cared about Simon, and he loved her immensely, and still does. Mrs. Riley died when Simon was 14. It was a cold Sunday morning when a loud gunshot rang out, waking Simon from his sleep. Feeling an animal fear, he rushed to the sound, recognizing a sight that forever shattered his poor mind. On September 6, Mrs. Riley shot herself in the temple.Haunted by her husband's nightmares and torture, she couldn't take any more of this abusive behavior, couldn't watch her firstborn wither under drugs, couldn't see Simon hurt.But her act didn't make it better, hell, that kind of thing never makes anything better. After that day, Simon withdrew more than ever. Hitting his father was nothing, hunger was nothing, being forced to kiss a poisonous snake was a challenge.

Simon grew up, and with it grew his hatred and repressed aggression towards his father.One day in a club Simon watched his father attack a poor girl. She simply refused to spend the night with him and the drunkard, not confused, began to beat her as if he were a wrestler in the ring Simon could not do anything, just as he could not save his mother, stop his father's beatings or convince Tommy that drugs are evil. And he didn't understand why his father wasn't in jail. They'd find the girl, but when they did, no one would really care what happened. The freak always gets away with it.

After the death of his mother, Simon was forced to work part-time at the local machine shop. Old man Carson was happy to help the neighbor boy, so he took him into his shop as an assistant without any questions or demands. Yes, and Simon was a handy and understanding guy.

Simon started out washing cars, and after working like that for half a year, he was promoted to Carson's apprentice: the old man explained and taught the boy mechanics, letting him stay up late reading books about cars.

The old man was able to replace Simon's father, teaching the teenager simple things necessary for basic survival. For example, Simon, at 16, learned how to fix some appliances and how to use tools. But Mrs. Carson had already taught Simon cooking, laundry, and household chores, and he, as a bright boy, grasped everything on the fly. Simon noticed Mr. and Mrs. Carson had a son, which they never had, for unfortunately Paula Carson was barren.

Simon lived as a two-family household, mostly spending his days at his mentor's house, but when his father began to rage and throw himself at the neighbor's door, Simon would return, falling asleep again in his little room.

The work in the workshop brought quite a good income and Simon, having entered the desired college, was even able to rent a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, and finally moved out of his home, so as not to see this den, and not to put, in Simon's opinion, the family of his mentor in danger.

The old man Carson told him fatherly: "Simon, you'll be happy when you find love. Simon thought so, but he couldn't imagine what that love looked like. He couldn't believe it would happen someday, not just pass him by like it always did.

But one day that day has come. First day of college, Simon is walking toward the auditorium when a stranger suddenly sweeps him off his feet like a small tornado. It was just a moment when he looked into your eyes-- He felt like he was going to drown in them. The way your eyelashes fluttered as you stood there, rubbing your forehead after the blow and babbling something, was in his head. From that day on, he couldn't imagine his life if you weren't there for him.

"Finally, I'll be happy."

But is this how it's going to be? Simon can't contain his anger at seeing you talking sweetly to some cocky kid in the back of the class. And the voice in Simon's head whispered sweetly: "eliminate."

#call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #tf 141 x reader #poly tf141 #fanfic #headcanon

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munsonshire · 8 months

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Carl Grimes as your Boyfriend

Disclaimer: I'm not talking about child Carl, like, not the first seasons, more like the ones before his death when he was older. And no, there is not gonna be any 18+ stuff on this one. Also, this is gender-neutral. Masterlist

He's very protective over you, like, he won't forbid you to do anything but he will tell you to be careful

He likes taking you on little dates, whether it's inside or outside of Alexandria.

His fave is taking you to this one lake close to Alexandria to swim (you both clean it of walkers before doing anything else).

You are the only person in the group that can steal his hat.

He showed you his eye scar sometime after he got it, he does trust you very much.

You carved your initials on a tree because you're just cheesy like that.

He lets you borrow his flannels all the time.

When Negan comes he quickly figures out that you two are dating and in his own twisted way, he praises Carl for getting himself such a beautiful partner, though he does use you against him when threatening the group.

He won't let you come close to him with scissors, as much as he trusts you his hair is sacred to him.

Likes playing little silly games with you when there's nothing else to do, like hide and seek or something like that

You found a monopoly on a run and brought it back to Alexandria, you sometimes play with it, and he gets really defensive (in a funny way) when he owes you money, he will start saying stuff about how money is now unuseful and all that, it's cute

He's the little spoon, the poor boy needs some love, he will pout and make sad faces if for some reason you want to be the small spoon, he wants to be held

His first and main love language is quality time so he will try to spend all of his free time with you

He likes reading all his comics with you, he sometimes acts like a total nerd talking about Marvel or StarWars and all the theories that he has about what happens in the comics

He's the kind of guy that does the yawn thing, where he yawns and puts his arm around your shoulders

Will let you play with his hair and even braid it sometimes

Makes random bets with you about anything that he can think of, he always bets the same, A kiss

Holds your hand all the time

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grrimes twd #the walking dead hc #the walking dead headcanons #the walking dead carl #grimes #carl grimes twd #the walking dead x reader #carl grimes x reader headcanons #carl grimes as your boyfriend #the walking dead #twd hc #twd headcanons #twd carl #twd carl grimes #carl grimes x gender neutral reader

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deadlyangelofpurity · 4 months

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I never liked Val, but god this is bad.

Seriously, how did everyone take such a massive downgrade? Valentino in most fan works is portrayed as a threat and a lustful yet dangerous antagonist.

The Valentino we got is basically a man-child having petty tantrums to the point he ends up fucking up Velvette's worker because Angel is giving the cold shoulder and Velvette has to tell Vox to go calm him down.

How is there such a big discrepancy? Even in the comics Val at least kept a cool head somewhat whilst remaining threatening and it's hard to take him seriously when he acts like a kid.

Seriously Vox and Velvette can barely stand him and going by their reactions this is NOT the first time Valentino has done something like this. What does Valentino even offer that could make up for how hard it is to work with him? I'm certain Velvette and Vox make their own money and they probably don't need him realistically and even if they did, he probably shouldn't be anywhere near their employees given he might just shoot them in a blind rage. Is the sex that good or are they spending time with him out of pity I'm having a hard time believing they actually like him. Val's so damn incompetent it's hard to believe he's in charge of anything.

Hell, I think is honestly worse than the Instagram dynamic Vox and Val had in the non-canon material. At least Val seemed like he could actually function without Vox having to hold his hand.

#hazbin critical #helluva boss critical #helluva criticism #hazbin critic #spindlehorse criticism #vivziepop critic

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angelt0rres · 10 months

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time for me to answer the question thats been plagueing this fandom (me) for centuries (minutes)

How Often Did the M*A*S*H Crew Attend Mulcahy’s Services?

Colonel Blake

Henry would attend for holidays and whenever he felt he had a personal crisis. Lorraines affair, his second child, those were times where Henry would be on the front pew trying his best to focus on the sermon (and failing, groaning with his head in his hands and distracting the father terribly).

Colonel Potter

Colonel Potter is almost always there Sunday morning, 5 minutes before so he can nab his usual spot (even though everyone knows not to sit there). The only times he doesnt make it (besides emergencies of course) are those rare, beautiful mornings where his body practically pulls him up and onto Sophie for an early morning ride.

Major Freedman

Sidney tries to attend a service whenever he’s in town, mostly because he enjoys Francis’ unique perspective in his sermons, but he also has a self described intellectual fascination with all different religions. He has all different religious scriptures in his office in Tokyo, he brushes up as often as he can so he can better relate to his religious patients.

Majors Houlihan/ Burns

I put these two together because they only go together unless the other is sick or indisposed, in which case the former doesn’t go at all. They attend regularly unless they’re preoccupied… 😉

Major Winchester

Charles never cared for church, he almost never goes unless he’s truly bored out of his skull- or on holidays. When he lived with his parents in Boston he would make excuses to why he wasn’t able to attend, a habit he curiously continues with Pierce and Hunnicut even though they couldn’t care less. All about keeping up his image, I guess?

Trapper/Hawkeye/BJ

Another case of both parties going or neither going at all. Trapper and Hawkeye wouldn’t go unless they could tell Francis was low in spirits, both trying to lift him up by attending and singing the hymns as over-the-top as they could. Hawk and BJ keep that tradition alive, but BJ drags Hawkeye to a few additional services when he can, too.

Klinger

Klinger LOVES going to church even though he isn’t religious. He gets to show off his best outfits, sing his heart out, and (most of the time) spend quality time with Mulcahy, Potter, and Radar. He only doesn’t go when he’s too hungover or tired from excessive weekend debauchery but he keeps a lid on that since he loses most of his money gambling on Fridays.

Radar

Radar didn’t go to church as often when Henry was in command, though he still attended at least once a month as a promise to his mother. He goes more often now that Potter is around because of that paternal bonding he doesn’t even realize his subconscious is seeking. He also genuinely likes sticking around to ask Mulcahy questions about the bible. He loves some of the larger than life books of the old testament- people like Sampson and Androcles remind him of his favorite comic book heroes which Francis invokes to help him relate to the scripture.

#m*a*s*h #mash #mashposting #hawkeye pierce #charles emerson winchester iii #max klinger #trapper john #sidney freedman #charles winchester #colonel potter #sherman potter #radar o’reilly #margaret houlihan #frank burns #bj hunnicut

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iosagol · 7 months

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Losing my mind over the idea of Hamato Raphael being an art kid

When his harsh personality starts really establishing itself at say five? and he's just SUCH a precious screaming handful? Splinter spends a year trying to corral this child before he adds brushes and ink to the list of what to buy on the surface, in an attempt to teach Raph some nice calm calligraphy, right

Raph paints on the cabinets with it.

And from then on he's absolutely unstoppable

He learns by copying drawings out of picture books and the few textbooks that Splinter gets ahold of, by copying out of comics, by trying to draw from real life. It's pretty ugly drawing in most ways because he's six but he's so excited about it pshshsg

And this doesn't actually make him that much sweeter/softer as a person, but it does serve as an expression of his thoughts when he has no earthly idea how to say them

So when Raph has sudden pitches in wanting to hurt his brothers, and yeah he's eight so it's probably normal but also he looks almost *upset,* Splinter stops trying to get Raph to verbalize and starts asking if it would be alright for them to do some drawing together

So that's part of how they communicate (not to say that Splinter doesn't also communicate with discipline and firm tone, but I think in the times when he can see there's something deeper, he takes the time to ask about it through art)

Fast forward to nine years old; they're all starting training now, and Raph is suddenly being taught an activity that feels absolutely right to him

He soars

And by this I mean that Raphael and Leonardo are very clearly neck in neck for the entire 2012 series; Leo only outstrips Raph when 1) his brother steps down and gives his respect willingly, 2) when Leo is ahead on a spiritual sense, and/or 3) on an emotional sense.

But whenever Leo is spiritually and emotionally lacking and Raph is too mad to back down, they're fighting and Raph is winning

And this

This derails things

Because there wasn't a hierarchy, you know

They're different ages, so that creates some competition, but to be very real, Leo, Raph, and Donnie all look the same age; it's Mikey who looks a different age. They're very close in years

But now there's a competition

Now Raph is good at something useful and he has to prove that he belongs there

He's the strong one

So drawing gets dropped for say six years in pursuit of being the best martial artist in the house

And then he's fifteen and Splinter assigns the leader and it's not him

Raph put everything into being the best at sparring, with his weapons, in every physical level

And yet in the days when Splinter tried to communicate with him, art didn't get through anymore, and neither did words, and so he was not considered a safe choice

He's livid

And then they go up to the surface.

It's ridiculous. It's incredible.

And Raph, to his own horror, goes home that night and paints until dawn.

He triples the number of signs that say DONT COME INTO MY ROOM, BRATS on his door and he adds locks because now

Now it's out of control and the same kid that painted on the cabinets has torn posters off the walls and he's feverishly painting a mural of the city above him on those same walls, a mural of the night sky and the rooftops and the birds and pizza and cars and the funny shape of dumpsters

Raphael made himself out to be the muscle, the rage, the powerhouse, and now he can't stop drawing and getting paint everywhere

What the heck is wrong with him?

This is what's wrong; he's inspired by something other than competition for the first time in six years

He's making something excellent for himself alone

He's happy with it

And so for a long time he hides his sketchbooks, in his dirty laundry, under his pillow

And no one comes into his room

He visits an art shop one night on the surface because he made sure it's on his patrol area

He takes markers and pastels and gouache and a bunch of pencils and he leaves as much crumpled money as he has in an attempt to make it okay

It's so okay. He loves this so much.

Sometimes he can't hide the marker stains on his hands and he has to walk around with extra bandages on his hands and say he had a sparring accident. When they realize this actually gives him more traction and softens the pain of his punches, everyone in the family starts mimicking this fashion.

And then Spike turns to Slash, knows the horrible angry bitter parts of Raph's life and Raph never thought a real person was watching all this time

He's horrified

Because when he is angry at Leo he draws Leo, and he draws him in a rage

There is proof of how much he despises his own brother, filling pages of books in his room

And someone saw those pages and was moved to hurt

Raph's art nearly killed someone he loves

He throws away his brushes, pours the paint and markers into the sewer system

Swears off of doing art even though he was finally finding his style and getting much better at realism and becoming a real artist

He leans on Casey a lot, watches Casey do graffiti and tries to be content with standing near that and maybe picking the colors if his friend lets him.

The Kraang strike New York.

April's dad is mutated, Casey's family is stuck back there, Shredder throws Leo's body through a window, Shredder throws Splinter's body into the sewers

And they're running away?? And for the first time in his life he has no idea what to do?? He has to be the leader now, sort of, but he doesn't know how it's done, or he knows how it's done but he can't do it, and isn't that worse?

Raph finds a torn notebook and a few pens in a corner of April's farmhouse and without even thinking, he starts to draw.

He draws thoughtfully, painstakingly, tearing out pages when he's not satisfied. He draws Splinter in excruciating detail, the little scars peeking through his father's fur, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

There's no game plan, no revenge plot. Raph is alone, and he can't fight, so he makes good art.

It's when Raph sits down with his new sketchbook next to Leo's tub and tries for the very first time to draw Leo from real life that he loses it and ends up leaning with his forehead on the edge of the tub, crying himself senseless.

He's not okay

He's in so much pain

And he draws to take that away.

He's sick of cartoonish art; caricatures got his family attacked by Spike

Raphael dives into realism

He gets out in the woods and draws the trees, funny leaves, flowers, pinecones, ducks, clouds. He wanders around the house drawing it from all angles and changing bits of it.

One day, April knocks on the door of the room he claimed as his own and when he opens it, she gives him a watercolor set.

"I just had a feeling," she says with a smile when he asks what it's for. "No other reason."

He's practicing his katas one afternoon when he notices Mikey fell asleep under a tree. Slowly, Raph gets out his supplies and paints Mikey right there, kneeling on the grass.

He tiptoes back inside.

Later, Raph is chopping wood when Mikey saunters over.

"Can I look at the picture you drew of me?" he asks calmly.

"What?" Raph sputters. "Drew? Drew what?"

"I wasn't really asleep," Mikey explains. "I thought you could use a real model, you know?"

And that's how Raphael learns that his youngest brother knew he was doing art for all of these years.

I don't really know where this goes, but all I can see is Raph slowly letting people see him drawing and slowly letting people look at his drawings and slowly making more really excellent stuff and in times of peace he gets on an online platform and shares what he has and the internet goes ballistic and suddenly he's a really well-known online artist

When Splinter dies, Raph builds a triptych of three rice paper screens and paints across them

The first screen shows Splinter's past life as a human

The middle one shows him being the father to the turtles

And the last one shows him walking through a beautiful garden with Tang Shen; his face is obscured from view.

Ages down the line, when Shredder is long dead and mutations have slowly become a more accepted thing because plenty of people were hit with mutagen over the years and now people see it as more of an accident/disability than a mark of a monster, Raph finally goes to the New York Art Institute

and becomes the first mutant to graduate cum laude.

#raphael tmnt #hamato raphael #tmnt 2012 #Tmnt fan theory #raphael hamato #master splinter #leonardo #casey jones #teenage mutant ninja turtles #Raphael is an artist okay #The name fits is what I mean

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