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I am falling for the hybrid propaganda (I've been here for years, who am I kidding? All my ocs since early teen years were hybrids)

Anaconda!Reader who is big. The soldiers in base all underestimated how big an anaconda hybrid would be. You were big, long, if you lied down beside Ghost, you'd be double his size and a bit more, because of how big your body is. Humanoid torso that is filled with scales, smoothly shifting to a massive snake body.

You were a temporary soldier, contracted to help with ambushes in the tropical terrain of their next op. Your species known for being quick and silent in water, aswell as hunting well at night.

The first few weeks of training, Soap was a big thrown off, it's not that he's scared of snakes, but he is scared of the monster snake that is at least 15 feet big. Taking a moment to warm up to you, though when he did, he enjoyed having your weight draped over him when he napped. Gaz is a bit less skittish, being a reptile hybrid, he ended up bonding with you easily.

Ghost didn't understand what was so scary about you, sure, you were big, but you were slow on land, too big to move so fast. Though whenever sparring, he'd get pretty freaked out whenever you'd demonstrain your restraint techniques; the weight of the muscles of your long body making adrenaline rush over his body in a fight or flight response.

Price was draw to how much of an utterly terrifying sight you were when in a body of water. It was only when you were all in the op and he saw you slither quickly underwater and kill man after man like some kind of siren dragging them deep down the water, did he understand why Anaconda hybrids are so feared.

They all also couldn't help but be rock hard when, after asked to interrogate a soldier, you started to slowly squeeze him, just enough to apply pressure and make him gasp, barely breathing as you broke his ribs, painfully slow, all while your tongue would flit out to taste the smell of his sweating and crying in the air.

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I'm trying to keep some things on my drafts so I'm having some blurb to post daily, but I hate leaving things in drafts, oh well

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simon who never had sisters growing up- not like johnny and kyle. simon who grew up with cruelty and hardness. simon who never truly had a stable female figure or influence in his life.

so when he starts dating you, he observes your every move like he's watching a documentary on an endangered species. he's in awe of everything you do. the simple routines that are ingrained into your life. things that most, if not all, women are accustomed to. he's especially mesmerised when he's watching you braid your hair. you must be some kind of sorceress, he thinks. it's some sacred art to him. begs you to teach him so that when- when, not if- you have a daughter he can take care of her hair the same way you can.

simon who just loves women and their little rituals and their softness.

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just a little drabble Abt soap and the Irish teehee

okay but hear me out (this is so overdone)

Soap with an Irish girl. Like I'm talking real Irish girl. Red hair, pale, freckles, thick accent,

And this man LOVES her. The second she becomes apart of TF141, they can't get him away from this poor woman. He yaps and yaps and yaps about how the British suck and he'd never be like one of them. And she'd humor him of course

"Aye damn right, Scottish lads quite the good mates."

And he is GIGGLING, kicking his feet and twirling his mohawk because the prettiest Irish girl called Scottish men good men, and that obviously includes him. And they'd talk in slang no one else understands and boo at the British players in football at bars.

(I'd make them kiss too don't worry)

I'd just think it'd be really cute.

(Should I make this into a series? Gimmie ideas to write I'm dry)

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A knock at your door rouses you out of bed, bleary-eyed and immediately pissy. Squinting at your clock, it reads just past midnight, so whoever is on the other side better be there to tell you World War Three was starting, or their ass was grass.

Turns out it’s Soap, who gives you a sheepish look when you open the door, dressed suspiciously in a sweatshirt with the hood drawn up. It’s ninety fucking degrees out, for Christ’s sake.

“Promise ye won’ laugh.” He says, pushing his way into your room without asking.

“Soap, it’s fucking midnight, you’re lucky I’m not kicking you right now.” You grumble, rubbing your eyes.

“It’s an emergency, I swear!”

“Fine. I won’t laugh.”

He pulls down his hood and you laugh. It bursts out despite your best effort to hold it in, clutching your stomach as he glares at you, “What did you do?”

He looks like he got into a fight with a lawnmower, his mohawk fucked up with jagged lines and uneven patches. There might even be a chunk of short hair missing from the back.

“Tried cleanin’ it up myself before we ship out tomorrow. Was gettin’ a little too long, ye know?” He scratches the back of his head, “Thought it couldn’ be tha’ hard, could it? Went a bit feral.”

“I’d say.” You can’t help the grin on your face, “It looks like a wild animal mauled you in your sleep.”

“Can ye fix it? Please?” He widens those damned blue eyes, giving you his best puppy-eyed look, “I’m beggin’ ye, hen.”

You balk, “What makes you think I can fix it?”

“You seem capable!” He waves his arms around wildly, producing a clippers from his hoodie pocket, “Ye’ve saved my arse so many times, I need ye to again. I canna face the others lookin’ like this.”

You sigh heavily.

“Please, lass. I’ll get on my knees if I have to.”

“Please don’t.” You mutter, despite the thought that that actually wouldn’t be so bad, “You owe me.”

You roll out your desk chair and pat the seat, taking the clippers from him when he sits, “My life.” He vows.

He sits the stillest you’ve ever seen him as you run the clippers over his head, fixing and shaping whatever’s left to salvage. The only thing moving are his fingers tapping against his knees, anxiously awaiting to see how badly he’d be made fun of by the rest of the 141. How long he’d have to hide himself in his room from the rest of the base.

If you had anything to do about it, which you do, he wouldn’t need to. Soap was as close to you as close could get before going intimate, and even then sometimes you wondered where his interest lay. Yours definitely would hurtle that thin little unspoken, unacted-upon barrier, if only you knew for sure it wouldn’t kill your friendship if he didn’t feel the same. All the same, you wouldn’t let him leave your room in his current state.

“Kinda dangerous lettin’ you this close te my neck.” He grins at you through the mirror on your desk.

“Should have thought about that before giving yourself a reverse mullet.” You quip, offering a small, concentrated smile.

“Still dead sexy though.”

“Maybe.” You tip your head in thought, “If you squint really hard. With the lights off.”

“Och. Tha’s brutal hen.”

“So was this haircut.”

You both laugh as you poke your tongue out between your teeth, running the the clippers slow and steady next to the long part of his ‘hawk.

After a bit more cleaning up with some scissors, you pat his shoulders and say, “Well, I think this is about as good as you’re gonna get, Soap.”

He turns his head from side to side, smoothing it back with his hand before grinning. Jumping up, he whirls and grasps your head in both hands, planting a big wet kiss on your forehead, “Ye saved my life, bonnie!”

You roll your eyes and turn away to hide the blush on your cheeks, “Can’t have people thinking you’re more of a lunatic than you are.”

“Seriously.” Soap’s hand closes around your wrist, tugging slightly until you turn to glance at him. There’s a soft look on his face, one that makes your heart flutter fondly in your chest. His blue eyes hold yours unwaveringly, and he steps forward to pull you into a warm hug, “Thank you.”

You hug him back, closing your eyes to soak in the heat of his body, his smell, the feel of his arms around you, the beat of his heart. He feels good there, like it’s where he’s supposed to be. When he steps away, he takes all the warmth right with him.

“An’ lass?” He gives you those puppy eyes again, “Ye won’ say anythin’ te the boys, will ye? This stays between us?”

“My lips are sealed. But I expect you’ll give me your dessert in our next rations.” You mumble, trying not to act like his hug had been more than worth getting woken up in the middle of the night.

“Already yers.” He grins, giving you one more kiss to your temple as he sweeps out the door.

You crawl back into bed, cheeks burning, wishing he’d say that about himself.

The next day, Soap beams when more than one person around base compliments his trim.

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Masterlist

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Unfortunately reblogs were turned off but that post is important for people in fandoms to see

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what does your blood taste like to a vampire

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No more apologizing for being horny on main. No more horny jail. We’re horny prison abolitionists. No gods, no masters! Wait. Okay maybe a few masters. Alright but no bars will hold us! No whips and chains will — fuck, hang on, let me start again.

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Clarice Lispector, from The Complete Stories of Clarice Lispector; "Letters to Hermengardo,"

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Hi, how are you?? Loove your blog, keep your beautiful brain worms healthy bc I love them.

Dunno if you're comfortable with asks, it's more of my own brain worms honestly, no pressure, but me and my friends have this ongoing thing where at any moment, if I see a man I find hot, I start spewing downright batshit nasty stuff.

And I've recently noticed when I drink, I find much humor in trying to be unhinged in a serious tone, so now I'm all consumed by this scenario of the boys in a bar and either Simon or Price (though honestly? Any of them lol) hear reader start spewing filth abouth them like "I'd happily choke on his cock for breakfast" or "damn he'd look good ass up in the air"

And if they somehow get amused by it and just come by trying to be intimidating (to hide how they're a bit shocked by it all) reader just looks at them with a serious face and says "permission to bounce on it crazy style?" While all their friends slowly hide like they want to die.

Anyways, is it obvious I'm the most fun of my friends? Lol 😋

I absolutely love the way your brain thinks anon. and i’d be down to bet you’re the funniest one at parties.

Anons brain worms of the day!! I really like this one.

GN!Reader with TF141.. who gets awfully lewd when drinking.

It’d be a casual friday night. Their phones turned to silent, base left quiet — a night to unwind, a night to have fun, a night to relax.

Or, of course, so they though.

You weren’t exactly a heavyweight drinker. Worse than that, you were a confident drunk. You would’ve never let yourself say anything if you were in your right mind.

You’d all been sat at the bar, Price sat a few chairs away. A few hours into the night, here you are laughing and spewing away — everyone’s chuckling, laughing, having a good time — when you just shrugged off a sentence everyone paused at.

“Oh, no, I’d happily go down on him for a shot or two.” Everyone stopped. Price stopped.

“They sell pretty good grilled cheeses here, too. I’d give him the mightiest head he’d ever receive for one of those. I’d suck that cock dry.” Everyone turned.

Silence fell. They knew you were dead serious, too.

Gaz was the first one to let out a laugh. Then it was Simon, shaking his head with a laugh. Then it was everyone — like a pack of wolves, howling and sputtering beer from how hard they were giggling.

“Fuckin’- what?” Soap would slur, tears streaming down his face from how hard he’d laugh.

His laughter is met with a straight face.

“What? Like you wouldn’t? Price’s a pretty boy! He’d look all cute ass up and everything — I’d totally fuck him if it meant I got another drink in tonight.”

Soap turns to Price, his face gone white. “—You hearin’ this, Cap’? They’re callin’ you pretty boy!”

You’d simply shrug, turning back to the bar. Downing another drink.

— Just to be met with the bartender handing you another. All he’d give you is “the man at the end of the bar bought you a ‘shot or two.’”

You almost let a grin slip.

Price, on the other hand, was more obvious about his amusement. Obviously, bewilderment made his alcohol-induced gears turn behind his head — but he had to try.

His plan was to start off slow. Something like “what was that about a grilled cheese?” Or “Heard you wanted another drink.” — But of course, a lightweight, confident, serious drunk doesn’t mix well with ‘something slow.’

“Permission to bounce on it crazy style if you order me one?” A total straight face. Not even a twitch of a grin.

Price is sure the whole bar goes deathly silent.

Before, of course, the men boys behind him begin to cry of laughter all over again. Except this time a whole lot more fist-slamming against the table, a whole lot more “I’m gonna piss me’ pants!” and screams of laughter like a wild pack of hyenas.

Yeah, you all got kicked out of the bar after that. And you went home with Price.

Turns out he makes pretty good grilled cheese too.

— And after that morning, you decided you’ll never be drinking again.

!!!!

I hope this is what you had in mind!! If not let me know i’ll tweak it 😸

(also my apologies 😓😓 i didn’t know if you wanted fem!reader or male… so it’s gn! if you want me to re-write it in a different pov im more than happy to! also if you want simon instead send it again and i’ll be more than happy to 🙂‍↕️)

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part 2 of this

Johnny was determined to see the marks again. Doing everything he could to get Ghost alone and undressed. But Simon seemed to be willing to shower in a fucking wetsuit rather than reveal himself again.

He had to come up with a new plan. Just casually inviting the whole team out for a drink. Intent on getting Ghost drunk enough to admit his secret partner.

Even in the dim lighting of the crummy bar, Soap could see the dark hickeys peeking out from under his collar every time he lifted his balaclava to take a sip of his drink. It was driving him wild with curiosity. He had to know who this lucky bird was. The nosy bastard just couldn't let it go.

You had been invited with the rest of the team. Sitting next to Ghost in the booth but not talking to him. Just keeping your thigh pressed to his. Enjoying the subtle contact while you made conversation with Price and Gaz sitting across from you. Occasionally smirking at Johnny's laser focus on your boyfriend.

A few drinks in and you were feeling it. Your jokes a little louder, definitely tipsy as you laughed with your friends. But it hit Ghost hard. Johnny had been handing him another drink the second he finished his old one. Eventually his self control thrown out the window.

Simon leaned closer to you, basically laying his whole body alone your back. He nosed against your ear. Mask shoved up above his mouth. He whispered, or at least he thought he did. It was much louder than intended.

"Baby... lovie..." His eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his lips against your neck. Unaware of the shocked stares of his team. "Wan' another... 's been too long... need a bite..."

You smiled as his hot breath fanned against him. You had noticed the other's reactions. Holding back a smug laugh as you turned to Simon. Your thumb and forefinger holding his chin still so you could kiss down his jaw teasingly.

"Hun, you know we're in public right?"

You liked the glazed over look in his eye as he nodded. It was so similar to how you had him in bed.

"Ok. Just one. And no more drinks for you."

He turned his head to the side quickly, baring his neck and tugging down the collar of his shirt to give you full access. You pressed your lips against his collarbone. Kissing and nipping gently just to tease him. Finally sinking your teeth into the meaty flesh of his shoulder.

The moan he let out was bloody pornographic. Your eyes flicked to your team quickly at the noise. They were still staring. Jaws slack. Johnny had a bright red flush crawling up his neck. Gaz was panting ever so slightly.

You finally pulled back, lapping over the new bite mark while making eye contact with Soap. Then you cooed at Simon while you fixed his shirt for him.

"Well done baby, so good for me."

You had this hulking beast of a man blushing and squirming happily in the seat next to you. You hoped he wouldn't be too upset that the secret was out when he sobered up the next morning.

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Soap slips up and calls ghost "mommy" in bed.

Hes absolutely mortified, bc hes convinced ghost will be offended, apology at the tip of his tongue. But ghost?? Groans and cages soap against the matress even more, flushed as his hips stutter. "Say- say that again-"

So soap does, also flushed in a bit of embarrassment, but more intrigued than anything "please, mommy? Please make me feel good?"

Which leads to ghost railing soap so thoroughly all he can do by the end of the night is whine for his mom.

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2000s romcom type of situation where Gaz wants to date reader's best friend, but your bestie only wants it if you're dating too.

So Gaz does the obvious; convinces Soap to go out with you. Obviously you know that Johnny is going on yhis date with you because Kyle wanted to go out with your friend, but he's fun, and a nice company, and definitely not bad on the eyes, so you oblige easily.

A few dates later and Johnny just invites you to go with him and some friends of his to a bar, since the romantic dates weren't matching your vibes. And there, you happen to meet Simon, Johnny's friend. A behemoth of a man that somehow doesn't intimidate you one bit.

And you three hit it off easily. You pretent to be super into Johnny and Johnny does the same so your friend and Kyle can date happily. The thing is that after many triple "dates" with both Simon and Soap, you notice how they're awfully close, and a few dates later you blurp it out, more out of curiosity than judgment.

"are you two dating?"

Johnny pales, Simon goes beet red, you press, asking if that's why Johnny is faking being with you. You're not hurt, you've come to adore these two. Eventually you find out they did like each other, but hadn't made no moves — until you just made them confront those feelings that night.

So now you're fake dating Johnny whenever your friend is near, while Simon is always kind of hovering, since the dates are actually between the two men. Kyle hasn't yet discovered about it.

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John Price likes to be dependable for his wife, of course he does.

What he doesn’t like it's the way he hear his men whisper about you.

A unworried "she probably has, like, a learning difficulty" from Johnny.

A slightly worried "dunno, man. She's probably jus'... different" from Kyle.

And a completely blunt "jus' seems real dumb t'me" from Simon.

That's why John invites them over for dinner one night. You've made the whole dinner, set the table up to perfection and sits prettily across from John, as usual. And then someone asks your husband a question, to which he simply shrugs.

"I actually don't know nothin' 'bout tha'. My love, can you answer tha' one f'me?"

With a deep breath and a sip of your drink, you explain it in a kind tone and simple words, trying to not get them more confused. But Kyle is astonished already.

"How... Why'd you know that?" Kyle asks, politely.

"Uhm... I actually worked with it, when I was younger. Before I met John..." You answer, but your eyes are focused on your food and in your husband, as if you didn’t just talk like a total specialist over a subject that they'd never guess you knew about – or that you knew anything, at all.

Safe to say, they start asking random questions to see if you know the answer, and John eats happily knowing he proved his boys wrong.

inspired by this reblog on my original post, thanks @/skeletonsucker!

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western pleasure; simon riley

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outlaw!ghost x afab!reader | series masterlist | wild west

summary: in a desperate, last ditch-attempt to escape your abusive husband's wrath, you encounter the man you've only heard legends of - a man named ghost.

cw: use of guns/weapons. depictions of violence, gore, death, domestic abuse. mentions of sexual assault, abuse. descriptions of sexual intercourse, smut. mdni, 18+

➳ part one: flesh and blood

➳ part two: skin and bone

➳ part three: debts and demands

➳ part four

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when the ao3 author is funny in the chapter notes and i get lowkey parasocial

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I loved this, but my head couldn't imagine reader asking to do backshots with Gaz, and more like "Gaz, show me how you do your backshots, pleasee?" So Gaz is just stammering and stumbling over his words thinking reader wants to rail him

reader who thinks backshots mean some kind of cool drinking trick and gaz who will lose his mind if you keep asking if he’ll show you how to do them…