#change communication recruitment

[obligatory-name-change]

thinking about superheroes unfortunately

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

While Russos burn and loosing an eye was pretty traumatic at the time, and the extra ostracization it caused lead to her being homeless & struggling to earn money until Muro came in and 'rescued her' not helping with that, once shes back on her feet she comes to accept it pretty quickly. In a way, her face being treated as wrong all her life already because of her lack of expressions* helped as it meant she already had in ingrained 'fuck you its my fucking face i dont care if you think its wrong'. Being next to Muro helps as well, his scars aren't as massive as hers but they are very noticeable on his face, and combined with his eyes hes not exactly 'normal' looking either. Tesoro was a big help with retraining her body - and there's plenty of people who have lost an eye to a knife who can give her tips, compared to the hospital that chucked her out as soon as possible. Conficcare researches how best to manage her scar though creams and forces her to do self care. Muro always cooks extra for her and makes sure she eats all of it.

*at some point when feeling low Russo asks people if shes changed and the resounding answer is "your just as stonefaced and subtle with your emotions as you were as a teen" which. not the best wording but kinda sweet of them

anyway getting sappy about people looking after each other- not aside actually, its kinda the whole point- There is lots of things people do that help her feel comfortable and even confident in her new facial difference and it only takes a year or so after being brought back into the fold for her to reach self acceptance- less for getting physically used to her monocular vision bc she had spent a few years with it already, but having stability helped her with that as well

[helielune]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[portmantaur]

cried a little today at work because I landed (myself) in a pretty mild situation and it felt like no one really had my back, and even one of my coworkers seemed to actively be against me in this odd sort of way where I know she didn’t interpret her own behavior that way at all, and it made me feel very sad and lonely but it also made me feel like I want to keep pursuing the solidarity I’ve been actively trying to foster even harder because I cannot stand this “everyone for themselves” mentality that we are trained to believe is normal and desirable and I can’t tell if that means I’m improving or if I’m worse than I’ve ever been

[readwritealldayallnight]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife

You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap

“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for

The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him

That one smile and he was done for

“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.

“Think that was my wife.”

“Yer what?!”

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife

Well, everyone apart from you apparently

He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves

Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case

Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course

By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway

“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”

By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you

You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing

“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand

“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book

“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips

“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch

“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him

Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses

“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind

“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white

“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”

Series masterlist

[welldrawnfish]

Friendly Reminder theres only one way to deal with fascists. They do not respond to civility, they do not change thier minds, they delight in the suffering of others. But they are nothing but weak men cosplaying strength. When confronted with real aggression and real action, they shrink away, scared to show themselves in public. I get that its terrifying right now, and being pride month I will bet more than anything that the Trump Administration will try some petty morale breaking bullshit as a show of strength. You need to be strong. And here's the hardest truth I can drop this pride. They will try to take everything from you. You cannot hide, you will never be quite enough for them, never be hidden enough. Even now the Company Palantir is posed to collect all your information into a master list. You will be hunted. I wish I could tell us that we get to live a happy peaceful life, that your trans, you were brave and overcame that hurdle, and found your slice of happiness. But we don't get that. We have to be ready to bleed, because they will make us bleed. Violence isn't the only answer. It is the answer only when all avenues of peace have been exhausted. Right now you need to start forming local communities and support networks, find an lgbt alliance, if there isn't one, form one. Help those in poverty, work to make community gardens, teams for home repairs. Recruit, build up.

Happy Pride. The resistance starts with you.

[jcmarchi]

Earthblade, The Next Game From The Makers Of Celeste, Has Been Delayed

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/earthblade-the-next-game-from-the-makers-of-celeste-has-been-delayed/

Earthblade, The Next Game From The Makers Of Celeste, Has Been Delayed

Celeste and Towerfall developer Extremely OK Games has announced its next game, Earthblade, has been delayed. The fantasy platformer was scheduled to launch sometime this year but has now been pushed to an undetermined window.

Earthblade was first announced in April 2021 before getting its first trailer at The Game Awards in 2022. The fantasy “explor-action” platformer stars Névoa, a child of fate who returns to uncover the mysteries of a fractured Earth. The game appears to be inspired by the Metroidvania subgenre, with the studio stating it features “seamless exploration, challenging combat, and countless mysteries to pick apart.” Outside of PC, Earthblade has no announced platforms. 

In a candid blog post, Extremely OK Games’ head Maddy Thorson opens by writing,

“I know, I know, this update is long overdue. We appreciate your patience as we try our best to make this video game that appears to be stubbornly determined to not get made. More on the process in the following paragraphs, but first we need to face the music: this game ain’t coming out in 2024. We had hoped to be announcing a firm release date around now, but it just isn’t in the cards. We know that this will be disappointing for a lot of you and we’re sorry for that. Maybe this was predictable, but still it always sucks when the haters are right.”

[embedded content]

Thorson continues by announcing more positive news in the addition of veteran indie developer and friend Kyle Pulver to the small team. Despite the studio’s reservations about recruiting new talent due to due to concerns Thorson describes such as “increasing communication overhead, and creating more financial pressure as our burn rate balloons,” Thorson is confident Pulver’s ideas and fresh vision have helped the team reexamine Earthblade, its problems, and identify solutions. 

Thorson also admits that Pulver’s hiring came after realizing they had become a “bottleneck” to Earthblade’s development process. 

“I’ve struggled to keep up with my workload and provide a strong direction for the team, while navigating all of the challenges of my personal life, including my gender transition. Transition involves a lot of change, uncertainty and doubt, and it’s easy to see how that has bled into Earthblade.”

Thorson describes themselves and the team battling uncertainty around the project following setbacks, but that studio still believes in Earthblade. Thorson states they were currently recovering from transition-related surgery and that being on the other side of it has helped them regain clarity and ease for what’s next. “It feels like the start of a new era,” Thorson writes. 

[whenmemorydies]

Can we talk about how, yes, Remmick represented the colonised turned coloniser but also how masterfully Ryan Coogler depicted this throughline of history on screen in about just 2 hours?

How many of the first white settlers to the US (and other settler-states of the British Empire like Canada and Australia) included the Puritans, the Irish, the Scottish etc - communities that had been brutalised at home by the English for generations - and then how those very same people blew their intergenerational trauma through the bodies of the peoples that they enslaved and colonised.*

How while those settlers are described with words such as "pioneering," ""adventurous," "industrious," and "brave" in their colonisation of the "wilds" of the New World, in reality many were actually fleeing political unrest, religious persecution and the barbarism of their places of origin.

How the oppression of the Old World followed them to the New World but how they were offered a seat at the table in exchange for their cultural and religious difference: an invitation into the decontextualised, ahistorical, transient void that is whiteness.

How in Sinners, that white void is represented by Remmick's vampire colony, with everyone doing the same jig and singing the same song as Remmick, their own individual cultures and histories be damned (contrast this to that beautiful sequence in the juke joint where a slew of multicultural ancestors and descendants commune at Sammie's call).

How the concept of whiteness has shifted over time in order to assimilate different people and communities and keep others subjugated.

How in Sinners, this shift is represented by Remmick changing his pitch to recruit others into his fellowship, depending on whose home he was trying to invade.

How legal definitions of whiteness in settler states gave the folks that they applied to more economic and social power than they ever had in the Old World. That power has flowed down for generations but it has come at the cost of connection to culture: the joy of ancestral connection, the grounding self-knowledge and communion of cultural practice (including through language, music, dance and pre-Christian religion).

How in Sinners, that cost is represented by Remmick's vampirism trapping him for eternity amongst the living, away from his people and also by the klan: folks who have embraced the void of whiteness so thoroughly that their cultural tenets are nothing more than hate, violence and destruction. Their whiteness brings them none of the joy, communion and love that we see in Smoke's memories of his community, just before his incendiary final scene.

And this is why Remmick wants Sammie, his songs and his stories. Its why his appetite for the blood and memories of others is insatiable. Remmick - as is the case with all colonisers and cultural appropriators - wants to fill the void.

*See: My Grandmother's Hands by therapist and trauma specialist Dr Resmaa Menakem

[thewildwaffle]

Friend Shaped

The professor clacked his beak sharply three times in the front of the room. The students, around 40 individuals, and many species from across the galactic arm hushed almost immediately. “Welcome back, class. The day for your first planet-side mission to Nemulon 3 is fast approaching, and we've still got a lot of safety training to cover, so let's get started.” The professor stepped aside to allow a projection to display against the board behind him. A picture of a blue, green, and gray planet shone brightly against the dark tapestry of space. Nemulon 3 had been discovered deca-orbits ago but offered a wide variety of biomes that were the perfect blend of challenging and safe to train new recruits to the Galactic Alliance’s Exploration Fleet. “Today we're covering some alien fauna you may encounter while conducting exploratories. Most are small enough that they won't pose much of an issue, but we do have a few category 5 lifeforms that you need to be aware of.” The display behind the professor changed from an image of Nemulon 3 from orbit to a chart topped by 5 images with their respective labels: karindru, oold, dini-dini, barintuna, and great lavalen. Before the professor could start in on the next part of his lecture, a voice spoke out from the middle of the classroom.“That looks like a dog.” The professor stood with his beak half open. He was certainly not used to being interrupted, let alone this early in the lesson. “A what?” He finally choked out. There was a pause as if the offending student was thinking better about drawing more attention to themselves before slowly putting their hand up in the air. It was a human. Cadet Valentina, if the attendance role had been accurate. “I said it… it looks like a dog.” Human Valentina inhaled as if gathering the courage to say more. “They're a carnivorous canine species on earth that humans domesticated thousands of cycles ago and selectively bred to be pets.” The professor’s beak closed with a snap and some of the features near the base of his neck ruffled slightly. “Nemulon 3 is 47 light years away from Earth. Any similarities between each planet’s fauna is purely coincidental, a product of parallel evolution.” The human bowed her head and said nothing else, so the professor continued. “Now, for many of you of larger stature, a single karindru might not pose much of a threat, but their real danger comes from their numbers. They live, travel, and hunt in packs. Thankfully, their method of communicating with each other in their packs are quite loud, so you will hear them long before you see them, and hopefully, before they see you. Typically you’ll hear anything from yipping, chirping, and howling.” “Kind of like coyotes.” The professor stopped and stared at the human again, feathers ruffling once again. “Another kind of canine species back home,” Valentina offered quietly. If the professor was capable of growling, he might have been tempted to at that moment. Instead, he sighed slowly. “I can assure you, trying to get close to these will likely end with your injury or death.” “Well, that's what ancient humans thought about wolves too, but then we bred them into dogs and now they’re our best friends.” “Karindru are not, nor are any native creatures on this planet, your friend. Not now, not ever.” The professor turned sharply back to the board. The entire class was dead silent. Few even dared to breathe. It was quiet enough, in fact, to hear the human mumble under their breath, “If not friend, then why friend-shaped?”

The human was promptly given detention and assigned extra homework of writing “I will not try to domesticate any native fauna on Nemulon 3” one hundred times by hand.

[maimaily]

the lads boys as kittens. 🌹 ‧₊˚ sylus

summary: You were living in your new apartment now, a free space for yourself, but maybe it was too free. You weren't quite used to the silence and loneliness of it, so you decided to welcome a little one to your home. After considering many options, a cat seemed adequate: clean, independent, wouldn't take much of your time like a dog… right?

characters: kitty!sylus (other characters will be posted separately), mc as reader.

a/n: cat breeds are selected based on the "Yes, Cat Caretaker" event. If there's any change, it'll be based on the appearance of each breed, but not its personality traits strictly. proofread but if there's any mistake please let me know! (eng isn't my first language). This one is gonna be long btw.

xavier 🢒 rafayel 🢒 zayne 🢒 caleb (coming soon)

Sylus — Caracal How did he get to live with you?

During the winter season, Captain Jenna assigned your division the mission of traveling to the periphery of the savanna, a crucial task for a recruit like you since it had the dual function of personal training and training for the hunters in the area, who had limited personnel and experience compared to the grand cities.

The camp, to everyone's luck, was well-equipped and the missions were not as exhausting; plus, the weather was pleasant enough to work in. However, one night, the onslaught of the Wanderers was greater, and communities nearby, in their attempt to defend themselves, caused a fire that spread rapidly, exacerbating the crisis.

The next morning, once the flames had been controlled and the locals were taken care of, you began patrolling the area with your colleagues to ensure there was no one else injured, continuing through much of the burned terrain. That was the moment when you found him.

He was just a cub, weak and on the verge of starvation. Even so, he showed resistance by hissing and pulling out his sharp claws when he considered you a threat. If it had not been for his critical condition you would have left him alone, simply taking him to a safer zone deep in the Savannah. Still, the obvious wound in his right eye prevented you from ignoring him.

With a few scratches and bites (which, yes, they HURT) you managed to take him to the nearest animal protection center. Some questions were asked while they started the examination of the rebellious cub who wouldn't let anyone come close that easily. Information about the place you found him and if it existed any signal of its mother in the nearby area was significant. The wildlife veterinarian concluded that it could be the case of an orphan, the hints being the location he was rescued from, which happened to be near the hunter's campsite, areas that caracals avoided due to the abundance of people around.

Thinking about it, the past few days you had been suspicious of some strange sounds as you trained or passed the time with your friends. Some unexpected rustling or scratching. And that time when a piece of meat disappeared from your plate… Could this little guy be the culprit? The idea made you chuckle, and you got a little closer with the permission of the vets, perhaps he was a little more familiar with your voice.

"Little man, we're just trying to help you. Everything will be fine, come on", you coaxed him out of his hiding spot behind the cabinets. It took you a whole ten minutes to catch him in your hands, wrapping a warm towel around him with a gentle tone and slow movements. He squirmed, hissed, and tried to bite again, but there was no opportunity now, he was in the hands of professionals again.

Maybe that was how your bond started.

After being admitted to the clinic, his condition gradually improved. Your visits were nothing new to the staff, because something inside you felt peace at seeing him in better shape each day, watching him sleep peacefully, and eat voraciously. The poor guy had surely spent a good while starving. Little by little, between frequent visits and growing confidence, the little one warmed up enough to play with you. He would run in the gardens and jump to catch the dangling cat wand that you used to carry around.

On a certain evening, during one of your visits, the head veterinarian approached you with a warm smile, his clipboard tucked under one arm and a practiced casualness in his step. "I was checking on his analysis from this morning, he looks a lot better than when you first brought him in, don't you think?," he said, leaning against the tree that protected you from the sun as you watched Sylus run around. "Is that so? He looks bigger now too, and it's been only a few weeks."

"Caracals grow quickly. And with a gentle person taking care of them, even more," he said, taking a step closer. You only smiled, looking back at Sylus who was flicking his ears. "I was thinking… You mentioned it was your day off, right? Maybe we- Ack!" The guy yelped in surprise as a blur of tawny fur shot from the shadows. He wasn't using his claws, but was firmly gripping his ankle, his good eye narrowing as his little tail flickered.

You laughed, managing to take him in your arms with care. "Sylus! You can't just do that, you scared him."

"Sylus?"

"Ah. The locals mentioned something the other day. I couldn't catch the pronunciation right, tho. But it meant something about greatness and… I thought it fitted him." The feline in your arms chirped and you returned to the main point of the conversation. "Excuse me, you were telling me something earlier?"

He cleared his throat, fixing his appearance a bit. "Ah yes. I… I was going to suggest transferring him to Linkon. They’ve got better equipment at the Wildlife Linkon Reserve, and I know the team there. They probably won't take him in immediately but… he's still young, you could take him with you, right?"

…Why did you always end up in these situations?

Four-legged threat. You became accustomed to the sound of things breaking and falling after adopting Rafayel. It wasn't always intentional, he just tended to be messy. But Sylus… he deliberately locked eyes with you, he CRAVED for you to witness his crimes, to watch how his paw slowly pushed over the edge of the counter your coffee mug, the way his sharp claws threatened to scratch and tear apart the bathroom mat (again) and how his teeth was just a breath away from munching on your chicken thigh. He didn't just love chaos, he was the chaos.

Hyperactivity is afraid of him. He jumps, and remember, caracals can jump over three meters (10 feet) with no impulse. So, leaving the balcony open was completely ruled out; the passing birds deserved a longer life far away from Sylus' claws (yes, it had happened before, and the bird had survived… barely). He likes to run, and caracals are also unbelievably fast, so he does these marathons from the kitchen to your bed, to your bed to the sofa and then you have to see the table he knocked over and the covers of your bed on the floor. You feel like taking him to the wild and making him run a whole day wouldn't be enough to tire him out.

He's BIG. You thought Zayne was big, I mean, Maine Coons were large cats… but now you can't help but feel that Zayne looks tiny by his side. He takes almost half of the couch, your bed, your whole damn desk when he climbs on it, the cages you use for the rest are comically small for him, and carrying him is a chore that tortures your back health. If Zayne could talk he would complain with you about how he's a victim of his fat ass 💔 (Sylus has picked out the habit of crushing cuddling Zayne with his enormous body. Zayne barely stands him, Sylus probably thinks he's hilarious). He takes the best spots on the bed, by the way, and Xavier is not having it.

Chonk. The change of being in the wild and living in a small apartment with another 3 cats led him to move less. And his diet couldn't change, so, over time, he became a bit chonky. You couldn't deny he looked adorable with a little pooch belly (which he sometimes allowed you to scratch and pet), but you also knew that wasn't healthy. Taking him for walks outside was nearly impossible, that'd be irresponsible and people could get scared, but you had the solution: a new exercise wheel! It was huge, and he ran so fast you were almost scared he'd accidentally centrifuge himself… Don't worry, he was back in shape in no time.

Food thief alert. Rafayel and he are very much alike in this topic with one difference: Rafayel steals your food and Sylus steals his. No, he shouldn't be eating regular cat food, yes he eats it just to be petty, and yeah, he acts smug about it. Probably just messes with Rafayel 'cause his reactions are madly funny, but something inside him tells him he should avoid Xavier's plate…

Scary dog cat privileges. No one will ever break into your apartment, trust me. And if you're dealing with some creepy neighbor at the door, he will calmly walk over and sit beside your standing form, yawn, and not even hiss. Seeing those fangs as he yawned was enough to get you out of your uncomfortable situation, isn't he such a good boy? If you're too scared to take out the trash at night he'll also accompany you to make you feel safe. He has never attacked anyone, but wouldn't hesitate to do it if you were in danger.

Actual cutie :( Deep down Sylus is just a really silly and sappy guy !! Please don't get intimidated by his looks, he'll literally cuddle with you on the sofa, letting you pet him for hours if you wish and he PURRS. LIKE. AN ENGINE. He likes to rub himself against you so you smell like him and he smells like you, likes kisses, nose boops, chin scratches, and if you're lucky you can touch his ears. If he doesn't let you, it ain't personal: caracals have sensitive ears (a lot of muscles there!), so too much touch can overwhelm him. You can always admire his little ear flicks when he's focused either way!

His favorite place to make biscuits is your belly. The softest dough he'll ever knead, and if you have a bigger belly? Please, you'll make him feel like he won the lottery. He rarely shows this kind of affection and, even if it hurts a little because of his natural strength, you're not interfering in the process. He'll purr as he kneads and lick your hand if you reach out to pet him.

Another mighty thunderclap tore through the skies, momentarily deafening the sound of the drops hitting the terrace floor and the shaky windows. It was the third day of this great storm, this one being so strong that going to work was out of the question, so you stayed home. Having four cats was not exactly synonymous with boredom, though. Xavier missed bathing in the sun, Rafayel wanted to play in the rain, and Zayne... well, he actually just wanted to nap.

The most restless of them all seemed to be Sylus, pacing around the apartment with an annoyed look, as if tired of waiting for something thrilling to happen. The first thunder he heard got him excited, making him perk his ears in alert, and jump onto the window seat with wide eyes. He tapped the window when the first drops of water hit the crystal, reminding you of the times you did “drop races” as a child, anxious to see if your selected drop of rain would reach its “goal” before your friend’s one did. 

But now, after three days of non-stop raining, it no longer caught his attention. Until now, apparently. A gentle growl and a nudge on your shoulder made you turn to look at him. “You want to get in?” You asked, lifting the blanket you had been using to cover yourself as you sat on the floor in front of the balcony doors, admiring the storm. “Come on, let’s see the rain together.”

With a warm smile, you welcomed him to cuddle with you, him taking a seat by your side and closing his eyes as you scratched the space between his ears. The comfortable silence of your home, combined with the chilly weather, brought you closer to him. You welcomed the storm with quiet gratitude. And, with all your being, you hoped it would last just a few more days.

It was the only way to postpone it, at least for a little while.

ᯓ★ A few days before

You were at work, mindlessly sipping coffee as you reviewed some documents on your laptop for your next mission, when the notification sound of an email brought your attention back. But after clicking on it, your hands didn’t move, you didn’t even blink, and the room suddenly felt too cold.

Subject: Wildlife Release Authorization. From: Linkon’s Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. Considering the successful follow-up of the rehabilitation treatment, and the notoriously improved clinical results and professional evaluation, candidate 943 “Sylus” (Caracal caracal) has been considered suitable for reintegration into the wild. We kindly request that you confirm receipt of this email, as the candidate's presentation is scheduled for the next five working days.

Just after reading the body, you closed the tab and let the email bury under the endless pile of new ones. You knew this would happen someday. But you’d think about it later, after work, maybe, or tomorrow. Just… not today. 

You returned home late, dragging your feet, but not exactly in exhaustion, at least not a physical one. You followed your nightly routine, spending some time with your precious kitties before going to bed, and you found him there, curled up over the soft covers with his usually sharp features completely relaxed. Trying not to wake him up, you got closer and booped his nose, giggling at his little ear flicks and his paws moving, as if trying to find you. “Sleep well,” you mumbled and lay down beside him, your hand caressing the smooth fur of his back. 

You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

“Now… go!”

The next day, you stayed home. Full of energy and with a ton of free time, you built an obstacle course for Sylus. This was a common exercise for him as part of his treatment and training for his injured vision. It helped him build a stronger spatial awareness, kept him active, and improved his visual coordination. “Good! Good, great!” You cheered with enthusiasm as he finished the entire course without bumping into anything, eating with delight the treat that awaited him at the end of it. “You’ve gotten so much better, Sy. You looked awesome—”

But your enthusiasm vanished with the memory of that email you tried so hard to ignore. Maybe, deep down, you wanted to prove that Sylus still needed some time, for his own safety! He could still use a week or two, or maybe three, or… or you could simply accept that you knew from the start this was bound to happen, and sooner or later he’d need to return to his natural habitat, and you shouldn’t have bound with him as you did.

A grumble got you out of your thoughts.

“Oh my god. Yes, yes. I’ll give you another treat.” You looked down at him, rolling your eyes at how he pulled the fabric of your pants. “Jeez, you’re so greedy.”

You still had four more days, yet parting as soon as possible might be the best thing for everyone. After thinking about it too much, tossing and turning as if feigning dementia gave you hives, you decided to start packing. His medical reports, leftover medication, his documentation, and some things that, once returned to the wild, he would never use again, such as the toys he pretended not to want so much, but ended up using perhaps to amuse you. You weren’t sure if he was aware of what would happen soon, yet he seemed restless, flicking his tail constantly and looking through the windows almost in annoyance.

The day you decided you’d take him to the center was when the storm started. The perfect excuse. But as mentioned before, it wouldn’t last forever.

Your eyes then opened as something heavy lay on top of your back, pressing you against the mattress more than you’d like. “Ugh…” You squirm, only to see a big paw right on your cheek and a warm, steady breath tickling your neck. “Sylus…” You complain, trying to move him, but it only seemed to make him cling more to you. 

“Caracals are solitary creatures”, they said. “They prefer to be alone and aren’t as loving as other felines”, they lied to your face. Sylus was the dictionary description of clingy and needy. He picked up this habit when he was a cub. And I repeat, he was a cub; he barely weighed more than two kilos after growing up. But now? He was easily ten times that weight. However, this time, you allowed him to stay like that. The alarm would go off in an hour, you could endure it.

But what you could not endure was what happened in the next few hours; you never imagined it, but the image of Sylus, the once-wounded little caracal you rescued and cared for for months, fussing and hissing inside a cage while the vets took him away, broke your heart. 

“It’s for the best, he will re-adapt to his habitat, please do not worry,” someone said to you, but you didn’t see who. You just stared at the vast valley that would serve as Sylus’s temporary home until they reintegrated him into the savanna. The lump in your throat signaled it was time to go home; you didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. So you went back the way you came, took a couple of steps, and suddenly you heard the rattling of the metal grating that divided the protected area from the outside. Curious, you turned around one last time, and what a surprise when you saw that tawny fur jump over it, high as never before, getting out of the valley.

“Sylu– Ah!” He landed on top of you, making you fall hard, and you thanked the floor, which was all slippery mud, for preventing you from getting a contusion. The caracal licked your face after pouncing on you, like a little treat for letting him catch you, and suddenly, the tears slid down your cheeks. You hugged him tightly, giving kisses to the top of his head, earning a little grumble from him that made you laugh. 

Perhaps your bond had grown too deep for a clean goodbye, and parting was a language either of you had ever spoken.

© MAIMAILY. Please do not steal, copy or plagiarize this work.

Likes, reblogs are comments are greatly appreciated!

Guys. I tried, I really did my best. I'm gonna admit that I don't love the final result, I feel that it was getting too long but this is the idea I wanted for Sylus. Yes, I could've forgotten the part of caracals being wild animals and just make him domestic, but I simply couldn't, lol. Sylus is probably ooc but pls he's just a caracal 💔. Regardless, I really hope y'all like it, I worked on this for days and did my best I SWEAR.

Thank you so much for your support on the series, the next one will be Caleb as the final part!

tag list ! @animegamerfox, @princessofenkanomiya, @aethercoreria, @thatweirdomidas

Dividers made by: @uzmacchiato, @v6que and @haecunt

[cas-couture]

cas couture.

cas couture is an upcoming community-based sim magazine focused on fashion. what sets cas couture apart is that we will not allow permanently paywalled cc to be featured in the magazine and aim to highlight the numerous, talented cc creators in the community :)

hiring/recruiting.

we want YOU! yes, YOU! 🫵

as cas couture is community driven, we need YOUR participation!

( more info under the cut !!! )

HOW DOES RECRUITING WORK?

we recruit on a monthly basis-- as in after each issue is published, we refresh and recruit again for the following month!

this is to keep it fun and respect everyone's time outside of tumblr! we understand scheduling needs change from month to month, theme to theme :)

for example, we are currently recruiting for our APRIL issue. if you enjoy working with us, you would simply fill out the form again when we recruit for MAY :)

RECRUITING OCCURS ON A ROLLING BASIS UP UNTIL THE PUBLISHING DEADLINE! You could sign up literally 24 hours before the publishing deadline and submit your beautiful magazine spread!

WHAT DOES THIS POSITION ENTAIL?

JOB TITLE: FASHION EDITOR.

create a minimum ONE PAGE magazine spread (dimensions would be provided to you) highlighting OUTFITS or CUSTOM CONTENT CAS PIECES (that are freely available)-- hair, makeup, accessories, anything!! the world is your oyster :)

there would be an overarching theme that would be provided to relate the outfits to! we're trialling the theme idea :)

JOB TITLE: LIFESTYLE EDITOR.

as this is a magazine-- and its primary focus is fashion-- fashion is a lifestyle :) if you would like to highlight items or decor or some sort of other .package that has elevated your experience-- your spread can also focus on this too! it can be in the form of an advertisement/ lifestyle edit-- its totally up to you!

this position would also require you to contribute minimum ONE PAGE to the issue :)

an overarching theme would be provided as guidance!

JOB TITLE: COMMUNITY AND CULTURE EDITOR.

there will also be a COMMUNITY SIGHTINGS/GOSSIP page (which won't involve actual gossip) but local simblr stories, bachelorette challenges, pack reviews, etc.! this would be a cute way to get simblr rolling again :)

this position would also require you to contribute minimum ONE PAGE to the issue :)

WHAT ARE THE REQUIREMENTS TO CREATE FOR C.C.?

you must be 18+ to apply

there will be a deadline to submit your content by, just because it'll be a big group effort! no hard feelings and no penalties if you're unable to get it in by the deadline, it might not be "published" in that issue :)

this is for fun!!!! pls remember that :) and also pls don't be zionists or trumpies or homophobes or racist or anything else awful because :( and that'll be another reason why we can't have nice things :(

literally all that is required of you is that you submit your magazine spread to me by the deadline :) and we're all set!

this is truly a passion project :) come join us!!!!!

okay, so, i'm interested. what do i do?

apply using our form here!

you'll hear back from @milkteatrait (either from this account or from their personal one) within 24-48 hours with the month's theme (moodboard, inspo)! so please make sure your messages are open (or in the form, provide an alternative contact method!)

april's recruiting deadline (you must fill out the form by): april 10.

april's publishing deadline: april 11.

if this gets a lot of traction, we might possibly do a bimonthly issue and build off the momentum!

we have so many ideas about magazine covers, designs, potential sim story advertising, CC creator spotlights!! we just need the support! <3

asking da community for some support <3

as this is totally a community project, I'm (I'm gonna drop the we here) going to tag a few big names/ creators/ simblrs in the community to help get the word out!!!! <3 I'm sorry if u guys hate being tagged for this kinda stuff!!!!!

@sentate @aharris00britney @daylifesims @caio-cc @clumsyalienn @dogsill @serenity-cc @twisted-cat @margotaspen @simstrouble @ophernelia @simsimulation @magnoliadale @kashisun @rottengurlz @flirtygh0ul @orbveil @mmfinds @alt-lanaccfinds @tricoufamily @birdietrait @orbitsuns @amanda-plays @neighborhoodstories @neishroom @keloshe-sims @thebramblewood @nsves @nolan-sims @surely-sims and there's so, so many more simblrs!!!! I'd tag everybody if I could!!! I tried to tag everyone who came across my dashboard!!!

also I'd super appreciate any reblogs and sharing to help get the word out!!! <333 thank you to everyone!!!!!!

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

From the request here

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Word Count: 4.3 k

Warnings:

“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”

This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.

Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal. 

Something is bothering you.

The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.

“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.” 

The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to. 

Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you. 

It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you. 

“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”  

Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.

You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections. 

“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.” 

There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.

You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”

Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”

You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it. 

His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”

Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”

You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.

“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”

It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer. 

“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”

“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.” 

Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”

Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.

“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”

His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.   

“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”

Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.

“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.

Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”

More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out. 

“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.

He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”

Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.

The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them. 

You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.

Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking. 

You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you. 

He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.

It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”

Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands. 

“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”

More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”

His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon. 

Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.

“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.” 

Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip. 

There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.

You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.

Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum. 

“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.

Oh you have got him down bad tonight. 

He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.

“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower. 

You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”

Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.

“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.  

His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.

“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”

The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure. 

His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”

Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out. 

“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”

Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.

“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all. 

Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.

Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.

It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again. 

“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

[rememberwren]

Ghost used to hearing the higher pitched 'hihihi' thing girls do when wanting to sound cuter and more appealing for guys. And during training some idiot recruit fucks something open and he gets to hear your un-girl filtered voice as you absolutely drag the recruit through the dirt. Snarling and spitting and shouting, enough any mamas boy immediately sits down and has that look on their face.

I won’t write a full drabble for this one but I imagine it like this: Simon meets you in the military. It makes complete sense that you would fall for each other—you both understand the rigor of the job and the schedule, the inherent danger, the toll it takes mentally and physically. After dancing around each other for ages (though neither of you are dancing, it just happens that way, when two serious people have such busy and separate lives), you two finally move in together. 

Simon often marvels that you’re in the military at all. At night when you’re naked and spread out in your bed together on base, he runs his fingers over your skin and wonders at how soft you are. You are the slowest person to anger, even in the face of Simon’s eccentricities and poor communication habits. He’s never even heard you raise your voice, though after a change in your rank, you often come home with a throat that’s sore from shouting. 

I imagine him during a brief moment of downtime, smoking with Johnny or shooting the shit with Kyle when he hears some Private being taken to task nearby by his commanding officer. That sort of thing happens every other breath, so it doesn’t phase Simon—it takes the person he’s with to wince and remark, “The missus sounds like she's in a pleasant mood.” 

The—? And Simon turns and realizes it’s you. You’re the one ripping the Private a new one, your voice doing something smokey and furious (and judging by what he gleans of the conversation, your side of which can be heard crystal clear even from a distance you’re in the right to be). I imagine it would absolutely do something to him, something in his brain and something below the belt. It’s kind of fascinating to know that this side of you exists, but it isn’t for Simon. 

“She yell at you like that in bed?” Johnny or Kyle would wonder, watching closely the dumbfounded expression in Simon’s eyes and unable to help teasing him a little.

“Classified,” he’d mutter, not taking his eyes off of you.

[niresenrab]

The 141 after retirement (Soap lives AU)

Price realized 37 years in that he's been all over the world, but he hasn't actually seen much of it. He wants to travel the world. Go hiking in the mountains just to enjoy the view without being shot at. Go to a cafe and savor his coffee without scouting out a target. Look out during a flight just to enjoy the sight of the clouds below him without thinking about RPGs. He wants to curl up in bed with Nikolai and just enjoy his company without a transaction. He decides to take his big Russian husband to travel the world with him. Price starts a travel blog to keep his boys updated on their trips.

Ghost is struggling to adapt to retirement. He's not used to having free time, always going on missions or training recruits. Something. Anyways, he gets really into sculpting. He already has experience with mask making, and this isn't much different. He'll use any kind of material. Wood? Widdling is basically sculpture. Clay? A bit frail, but he can work with this. Stone? They now have a massive statue in the front lawn. Ghost can also fuck it up with paper mache. He is on pinata duty for forever, and he'll make them of anything. One of Gaz's kids is really into sea bears? He can work with that.

Gaz has three kids, a wife, and a chunky cat that he takes on trips with a backpack. He hosts monthly dinners for the team to catch up. One of his kids called Ghost "Uncle Goose", and now all of the Garrick kids call Ghost "Goose". Farah gets to be the cool aunt that teaches the kids things that she shouldn't be teaching them. Price definitely takes the role of the dad that sits in the armchair and takes loud open mouthed naps during their gatherings. Gaz wonders why he keeps hosting these dinners.

Soap and Ghost got married shortly after Ghost retired. Johnny was not expecting to come home to a house full of new sculptures, but he completely accepted the change. He helped Ghost renovate the guest room into an art studio with his drawing stuff on one side and Ghost's sculpting stuff on another. A few of their pieces even made it into galleries.

Nikolai, obviously, retired the second Price did. He travels with Price regularly, but likes to teach a mechanics class at the local community college in his free time. Of course he shows off his black hawk to the students, but they can only tinker with the cheaper aircrafts (as if any of them cost less than a million). His classes fill up fast and he has the reputation for the cool teacher.

[isnadfoundation]

The environment of Gaza is full of challenges and hurdles where daily routine is all about continuous test of patience. And doors are closed for ambition beyond the control of their owners. The education becomes more than just a need, but turned to become a space of resistant, surviving mean and a project for life. In Gaza, Deams are not measured by resources, but with persistency to keep learning amid shadows and rubble, and by their faith, knowledge is the only way that no one can hinder it from them.

ISNAD has been launched, humble Initiative but deep in its own essence. A learning environment that embraces dreamers not only because it has a lot, but simply because it believes that everyone deserves a real opportunity. And empowering one individual could give a hope for a whole family, or even changing a whole generation of people. Since its release, ISNAD has been providing plenty of opportunities for students through:

Quiet and free workspaces 💻 Short workshops and specialized courses 📚 Genuine community and educational support 🤝

Today ISNAD is seeking to extend its impact through: Establishing Training Centers inside its headquarter at Gaza Providing advanced professional and technical courses in variety of fields Organizing regular workshops to integrate youth into labor market

Why it is important Now? Most of students has lost their ability to study or having decent jobs. Workshops and courses started to be the reliable and source for learning and development. Unfortunately, the reality is far difficult The costs these courses is unaffordable for most students Specialized workshops is very expenses Dropping out of education is increasingly becoming popular and painful

Our role starts here We are seeking to provide these courses completely for free and through safe and well-equipped environment taking into account students’ psychological and financial condition, this is simply because education is not luxury but a right and a surviving mean.

The financial support for this project will enable us to:

Equipping Training halls Recruiting Specialized Trainers Providing learning resources and materials Expanding student capacity

Our invitation to you In Gaza, dreams are abundant but opportunities are scarce. Your donation is not just support for a course, it is hope for a student who lost their university or a student striving to continue despite everything. Help us provide free education opportunities, and make every seat a new beginning.

Fundraiser || PayPal || Vetting 1 || Vetting 2

Donate $25 to enable Gaza students to continue their education.

[crsssie]

sharpshooter - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

there's a rumor in the FBI about the BAU. No, not the rumor about their genius with an IQ of 187. No, not their rumor about the technical analyst who can get anything and everything with a swipe of her mouse. No, not even about the communications liason who was called in by the pentagon. no, no.

there's a rumor that the BAU hosts a sharpshooter. A sniper known even in the military for the strange grasp they have on everything mathematical and all things physics — a sharpshooter who has a minimal kill count because they had only ever disarmed with the rifle and not kill. A strange one, that sharpshooter.

Some of the new recruits peer past the glass when touring the building to see if they can catch a glimpse of just who this sharpshooter is (they fail).

"Did you know the word rumor virtually didn't change at all? The old latin word was spelled the same as it is current day other than the word rumorem, and then it went a different change in old french where it was rumur, but then it ended up back as rumor." Spencer hums. "The original meaning of rumor in latin was just noise."

"Huh." You click on your desktop, fingers clicking on the keyboard. "What about gossip?"

"Oh, that one started as godsibb which was like godparents or godsiblings, and then in middle english it changed to a familiar acquaintance, a friend, neighbor, and then by the 1560s it became anyone engaging in familiar or idle talk. Our modern meaning was more in the 1620s about talking idly about the the affairs of others."

"Fun." You stretch your arms over your head, glancing out the glass to catch a batch of new recruits. "Makes me think about superstitions."

"Oh, that one's super fun. It's formed from the words—"

"Reid, Snippy. New case." Morgan winks, passing by as you huff.

"I said not to call me that!"

"I'm sure you prefer it to your other nickname."

"I prefer no nickname." You huff, tossing a crumpled paper in your hand as Morgan leaves.

You throw the paper to hit him square in the back of his head as you pass him with Spencer.

"Hey!"

You only stick your tongue out when he rolls his eyes.

one agent in the academy catches the way you hit morgan square on the back of his head, and suddenly, there's a physical descriptor for just who you are. not that you seem to notice or care.

However, doctor reid looks back at the agent, and the young one seems to understand that look. keep you off everyone's radar. stay quiet of who you are.

they find it sweet of him, regrouping with the others as they notice they've been left behind.