caffieneaddictt18

[caffieneaddictt18]

Hello! I love your work so so much. Would you ever consider writing a bit of Ghost with maybe a goth/emo partner? I’ve always loved the goth aesthetic, and he’s already got the cool skeleton vibes going on… I feel like Ghost would get along very well with a lover who appreciates the color black just as much as he does!

Ghost loves his little goth partner. Its obvious hes got a thing for making outfits and customizing gear. Now, that same hobby has become a staple of bonding in your relationship.

You, hand-painting some shirts for the bands you like, laying on your stomach and toes tucked under ghosts thigh where hes sewing back-up masks. Its a simple act of shared space, but it feels so natural to ghost that he feels off-kilter when you miss too many days.

Of course he loves your outfits, too. Though hes always got an opinion, telling you if he thinks its ugly but never pressuring you to change. He likes taking photos with you in the mirror, face always just out of frame but his own simpler outfit on display. It makes him feel a bit less like ghost and more like simon, dressing up for the sake of it. Thick black sweaters and baggy pants, the nice leather gloves that keep his hands warm.

Of course, hes more than happy to sit still while you apply eyeliner to his face. Thighs straddling his lap as a hand grips his jaw tight, scolding him when he scrunches his muscles involuntarily. Sure, he has a hard-on the entire time, but you make sure to repay him by dropping to your knees and taking care of it. Black lipstick a marker for just how deep you can take him, a badge of honor in your mind.

Sure, maybe you keep going after hes cum a few times just to watch overstimulation creep in, lashes wet and fresh eyeliner running down his cheeks so prettily.

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Nobody's Soldier

"We need all the backup we can get, Harry." Hermione coaxes Harry to finish writing the letter.

"She said that she doesn't want to be a part of the wizarding world, Hermione. She'll just say no."

"But what if she says yes?"

Harry shakes his head and signs the letter, and gives it to one of the owls in the tower. "Find her," He commands the bird, bribing it with treats, and sending it off.

"We need her, Harry." Ron says from the entrance, exhaustion seeping into his words.

"I know. I know, Ron." Harry's voice sad and disappointed, expecting the answer to come.

Sitting around a fire and eating shitty MREs in the brief respite during a mission is sometimes the best bonding time with my team than any training exercise.

Except when a fat owl starts flying at me with a piece of parchment tied to it's leg.

"OH SHI-!" I yell as I get a face full of feathers.

"What the fu-?!" Gaz yelps and Ghost pulls out his gun, aiming it at the big bird.

"It's an owl! Calm down!" I reach my hand up, stopping everyone from attacking the bird. I reach around and slip the letter off the owl's leg and successfully pocket it without anyone noticing. Not this... please just not what I think it is.

"It's a bloody big owl!" Gaz shouts, holding his gun.

"And it went right for you. It could be one of the enemy's." Ghost keeps his gun aimed at the bird.

"I'm pretty sure it's just a normal owl, sir." I try to reassure them, one hand cradling the owl and the other raised.

"Never seen a bloody owl do anything like that in my life..." Price mutters and goes back to eating.

"Never seen one that big before, sir." Soap concurs with his captain before warily eating and watching the owl with a close eye. His gaze trained between me and the bird, noticing a slight bulge in my pocket but not saying anything. Probably a field snack. He has some too, in his breast pocket.

"Off you go." I shoo the bird away, it flapping it's wings indignatly before taking back off. I go back to my food, visibly settling back down but that familiar anxiety rises in my throat.

An hour later, after everyone settled down and got ready to rest for a while before heading back home the next morning, I walked away for a brief moment, giving myself enough cover to read the letter.

I recognize my brother's messy handwriting, even after the years of no contact.

Sister, thank you for opening this letter. It has been a hard time recently, chasing Voldemort and destroying his Horcruxes. We need you, sister. I don't know how many will survive without you there, but I know more will live. Truthfully, I'm writing this to you because I'm scared. I don't think we can do this without you. Please... at least send an owl back. I'll be waiting for your letter. H. Potter

You roll it up, and sigh. I left for a reason... I can't go back. You write on the back:

Brother, I'm sorry. You know I can't. I left that place for a reason. I can't be involved with this. I'm sorry. A. Potter

I beckon the owl over and tie it to my leg. "I'm sorry I don't have any treats. Bring this back to him." I whisper, lifting the owl up and off.

I sigh again and head back, sitting by the fire again, taking first watch.

"You got anything you want to get off your chest?" Price's voice, calm and controlled, is quiet and comforting despite the anxiety rising in your chest, tightening like the year Harry went through the maze.

"It's a long story."

"We've got some time." He sits down next to you.

I let out a deep breath and lean on him. "I'm... I'm an orphan. You know this. However, I was born in Godric's Hollow, not London. I went to a school in Scotland. Not everyone knows about it..."

"I knew about the orphan part. No next of kin."

"That's... that's a lie. I have a brother. Harry." I rub my hands on my face.

"Harry? Normal name for someone related to you, Aconite." Price lights his cigar, and looks at me.

"I know. I wasn't the firstborn so my mom chose my name. Another flower. Her sister's name was Petunia. And her name was Lily. Lily Potter."

"And where's Godric's Hollow?"

"It's nowhere on a map. You have to Apparate there." I lick my lips, biting the skin off.

"'Apparate'?"

"Um... teleporting, I suppose is the closest thing I can recount it to."

"Ah. So... you're an orphan from a made up town that can teleport. Right" He takes a big breath in and lets it out. A heavy, sweet smoke hangs in the air, mixing with the campfire.

"You won't believe what I have to say next then. I can do magic." I look up, watching the stars as a belly laugh from Price shatters the silence.

"Right. Cause that's real. Magic." Price shakes his head, smoking his cigar again.

"You want a show?"

"What the bloody fuck? May as well." He shrugs and watches as I pull out my wand and give it a swish and flick, and as one of the logs Ghost was sitting on lifted, his eyes widened and his cigar fell out of his mouth. I reach my wand out, pointed at the cigar, and catch it before it hits the ground.

"Magic?... Magic... is real." He shakily takes the floating cigar from the air as I lift the spell from it.

"Real as I am."

"Well... I guess it is. I don't think I can sleep now... I'll take first watch." Price smokes his cigar, rolling his shoulders and looking around, like that will give him guidance on what to do next.

"I got... I won't be able to sleep either. I got a letter. From my brother. There's a war. And he's asking me to join." I adjust the tac vest, pulling the neckline from my neck.

Price just let's out a heavy breath, and slumped forward, elbows on knees, cigar still sitting heavy on his lip.

"Looks like it's restless nights for the both of us then."

"I couldn't agree more, sir."

Author's Cup of Tea: I'm not going to lie, this is a very self-indulgent. But I wanted this out of my head. So here's Aconite Potter.

[caffieneaddictt18]

yo, i literally make a shitty ass post and it does great! I make a wonderful, carefully built world and it does shit😭 whyyyy😭😭😭

[caffieneaddictt18]

there are a bunch of fics of reader getting kidnapped and her not liking it and whatnot and i have not seen a single one where she does! and I think I’d much prefer if the 141 took me from my home and made me stay in there cabin in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and we all loved each other! i’m just saying-

Johnny spots you first. You were just heading down to the farmer's market on a Saturday morning when he spotted you. The normal stalls of fresh fruit and vegetables had their big signs, but you were attracted to the stalls that were selling jewelry and little trinkets. Crystals and the like.

He followed at a reasonable distance. Not reasonable at all to him, given how he wanted to have you wrapped in his arms and guided home to the rest. Johnny was just supposed to go grocery shopping, but as soon as he saw you? He knew the others would too.

After the farmer's market, he followed you home. Just makin sure his bonnie lass gets home safe. You hadn't picked up anything from the farmer's market, so he couldn't bump into you and have an excuse for you both to stop; so he could work his charm on you.

He couldn't risk it though. So he went back to the jewlery stand and found the one thing that caught your eye, and bought it. He would give it to you when the time was right.

He went back home, you dancing through his mind as he rambled to Simon about the pretty lady he saw at the farmer's market.

The next person you caught the eye of was Gaz. He was in the skincare aisles of a store and you breezed past for a thing of moisturizer.

His brown eyes lock on yours as you turn to leave.

"Sorry about that. Just had to grab this." You hold up the moisturizer, your face decorated with green star pimple patches.

"No problem. Acne?"

"No. Just some pimples."

"My sisters liked moisturizers with salicylic acid. Said it helped get rid of their pimples and keep their skin soft." Gaz tries to reach out.

Your eybrows scrunch together and you look at the ingredients. No salicylic acid... "Okay, mystery man. I'll look for salicylic acid in my moisturizers."

Gaz pulls off the moisturizer off the shelf and hands it to you. "Try this. And I'm Kyle."

"Thanks... Kyle." You take the moisturizer from Kyle and make your way to the cash register.

Later that day, Kyle comes back to the house that the team share.

"Johnny... I understand now."

The next person to see you is Simon. He is enjoying a nice cup of tea as the rain begins to patter against the glass he is sat next to.

The bell for the door dings as you walk in, tucking your umbrella into your body as you approach the cashier. "Hey, Ruby. How's it going?"

"Slow. But interesting. Apparently, the woman down the street is in an open relationship with her husband because they don't want to have to go through the messiness of a divorce." Ruby rings your usual in, spilling the piping hot tea to you.

"And who poured you this tea?"

"Her personal assistant, Mary."

"Ooh, girl~"

"Mhm. Anytime, girl. White mocha with half pumps of mocha sauce, half vanilla with whole milk, hot, right?" Ruby reads your order back to you, just double checking even if she knows the answer.

"You know it."

"It'll be out in a minute. And... sorry to say, but someone stole your spot." Ruby whispers to you before trying to subtly motion to the big hulking man with his tea and scone.

"Ah. It's fine. I'll just make a friend, and if not, then I'll just move to a different table." You whisper back as Ruby walks over to make your coffee.

"Hello," You approach the man carefully, "is it okay if I sit with you?"

The grunt was meant to be 'Of course, please sit with me, pretty bird. I'd lick the coffee off your lips if you asked.' but it just came out as off-putting.

Seemingly off-putting, at least... but you didn't turn away.

"I'm sorry, I'm not quite fluent in grunts yet. Mind a 'yes' or 'no'?" Your sassy retort does nothing to help hide the ever-growing tightness in his cargos.

"Yes... sit."

You smile at his confirmation and sit down, setting your bag down next to you and pulling out a journal with a cute pen.

"White vanilla mocha for sweetums!" Ruby calls out your order and winks before leaving it on the counter and attending to the other drinks in need of her attention.

"Be right back." You give the stranger a small smile before getting up to grab your coffee.

When you come back, Simon is still in the same position. You sit and sip your coffee, staring out the window at the sky before setting your coffee down and starting to journal what you know about the root chakra and how hung gar kung fu has helped you open and reconnect with the chakra.

"You believe in those?" Simon gets a glimpse of your journaling and makes his comment, not having any sense of spirituality or religion.

"I believe they might help. And even if they don't exist, what's the harm in meditation? It's been medically proven to better your mental health, so even if I'm not opening my chakra, I'm helping my mental health, stranger." You give him a small smile and continue journaling your experiences.

"Simon." He mutters, taking a sip of his coffee, looking away from you.

"What?" You look over, confused.

"My name is Simon." He's just gently blushing under the mask, taken by you.

"You have a nice name, Simon." You give yours in return.

He quickly finishes his tea and bolts out the door, jacket in hand and umbrella tucked away in his pockets.

As soon as he gets back to the house, he finds John in his study.

"Price... we need her."

By now, John has heard all of his boys talk about you nonstop.

How your hair look so shiny under the sun. How your skin has cleared up and Kyle sees it from time to time when you go for a walk. The attention to detail you put in with your journaling and that you care about yourself.

So, John, having put together a rough estimate of your routine, plants himself in your way. He shows up at the Saturday market, looking at some produce, when he notices you. He has a semi-clear image and description of you from his men, but seeing you? It is an entirely different story.

He understands now, and as such, he walks over to the trinkets stall, intentionally bumping against you, before turning around, "I am so sorry, love."

"It's alright," You assure him, going back to the crystals arranged on the table.

"Which one is that?"

"You haven't seen obsidian before?" You raise an eyebrow, but hold it up to him. "It's a stone made from volcanos. Sharp as glass, and way more dangerous, because it's a soft stone. It tends to break easy."

"We don't have many volcanos around here, love." John's eyes twinkle in amusement, hands in his pockets.

"Right. Sorry." You apologize quickly, "And I just info-dumped on you about obsidian. I'm so sorry. You're a stranger, and you probably didn't even want to-"

"It was interesting. I appreciate the facts you gave me. And I'm John. John Price." He puts his hand out, like he's going to shake your hand.

You give him your name and your breath stutters to a halt as he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips.

"Lovely to meet you." John gives that cute smile of his and slowly lets your hand down before walking away.

When Joh arrives back home, he enters like a man on a mission.

"You're right. She's perfect."

And all the rest look at each other with confirming smiles and nods before starting to build out the plan.

You sigh as you approach your car, getting your key out.

Another shitty day with another new boss who doesn't understand the fucking team...

And as you approach your apartment, jamming to music, you don;t notice the black van tailing you... it's respectable distance does not raise any red flags in your mind, not giving you a trigger for your anxiety.

You park your car, grab your things, and get out of the car, locking it after you've closed the door.

What you fail to notice in your exhaustion, is the hulking mass of a man sneaking up behind you...

And you're out like a light.

Author's Cup of Tea: I'll probably continue this later but I've got the hiccups and this has been sitting here for a while...

[caffieneaddictt18]

Paint the Ring Red

I am so sorry for this taking so long. I promise the rest of Cherry's story should not take the same amount of time. Please enjoy this self-indulgent piece of trash 😅 unedited!

"Welcome one and all to the only source of entertainment worth anything this side of the desert: The Underground... FIGHTS!" The announcer shouts into the mic.

"In the ring tonight, we have the undeafeated, the unbeatable: Viper!" I walk out in my stupid face paint and show outfit, a pair of tight fitting pants and my tits wrapped in bandages. My arm muscles flex as I move around, adjusting myself for the fight, spinning my rings on my fingers.

"A promising up-and-coming fighter has chosen to take on the Viper tonight... Daisy!" Daisy, a woman who defies her name, is all muscle, like she's trained for this her whole life. Her loose pants are filled out too tight and her shirt strains to hold itself together. Her fists look almost as big as my head... You know what they say, the bigger they are...

"Are you ready?!" The announcer drags out, amping up the crowd of dirty politicians and criminals, who all scream out their joy in agreement.

"Ok, Daisy, listen. I get it. You got something to prove. That's fine. I'm going to give you a chance to forfeit before we start." I stand still, holding my arms up, as if I'm being generous. I know what's going to happen...

She's gonna get pissed.

"Oh really? I have something to prove? Or are you just trying to get easy wins?" She taunts me back, circling me like a predator.

I look at Kyle, or my sponsor 'Malcolm' for this mission, and look to be awaiting his final decree, like a gladiator at an Emporer's fight. He gives the thumbs up.

I whip around and go for her legs, aiming for her knees. Daisy, expecting something like this, having inspected me while circling, has her knees bent and her legs tight, like an animal preparing to pounce. I land with my leg stretched behind me as she goes for my semi-exposed neck with a punch.

I roll out of the way. Big means slow... let's see her speed. I start running around the ring of the pit, trying to figure out her reaction time. I weave in and out between her legs, testing Daisy.

As a smirk crawls its way up my lips, two strong hands grasp themselves onto my shoulders, jerking me back. Daisy picks me up, looking proud of herself, before knocking her big-ass sixhead into mine. I smile with blood pooling in my mouth from biting my cheek, a wet, red film coating my teeth. I fling my feet up, kicking Daisy under the chin as I get out of her grip.

A cloth is flung at me, and I use it, slinging it in Daisy's vision. I then use the walls of the pit, running up the side and kicking Daisy's head down to eat dirt as I land.

I look at Gaz. A thumbs down... I nod in acknowledgement. "Sorry, Daisy. You're not gonna like this." I throw Daisy up by the shoulders, suspending her in the air. I jump from my spot, wrapping my legs around her neck and face, cutting off the airway. Her hands smacking my legs, begging for air as her lips turn purple, just cause them to tighten. The harder they fall.

I stand, victorious. "And our winner, the... VIPER!" My hand is raised, balled in a fist. The crowd screams, whether in joy or disappointment, none of it matters...

I catch Kyle's eyes as I am walked out of the pit and into the room the ring gave me.

I am washing off the face paint as Kyle walks in. "My little snake!" His French accent still throws me off. I turn around and lean against the sink.

"Hey, Malcolm. I do well out there?" I smirk, knowing what Kyle will say.

"Very well! Now, you have won me a lot of money, Viper. Time to discuss cuts!" He closes the door behind him.

"Price gave me a call yesterday and they've got him. They've got Alessio. And proof. They caught his dealer too."

Cherry's eyes widen, her posture relaxing. "Finally... so we can go home now."

"No. Not yet. We've made a name for ourselves and it will be suspicious if we just up and leave. If you were to, let's say, end up in a life altering, 'could-never-fight-again' situation-"

"I don't care what it is. I need to leave. I'm done being here, Gaz." Cherry whispers back, desperation flooding her wild eyes.

"We'll get you to leave. Promise." Gaz puts a hand on Cherry's shoulder.

"Good." Cherry nods, ready to leave this fight ring.

Gaz nods and pats her on the shoulder before leaving, putting on his pimp act again.

Cherry turns around and keeps cleaning herself up, looking at her reflection in the cracked mirror. A split lip is a given... the bruises forming on her shoulders and back, mistakes on her part. Should've known the opponent would still have the dexterity necessary. The head wound has stopped bleeding, but it's still open as Cherry tries to pull it together with butterfly stitches.

"I know you'll lose a great fighter, but you've already made plenty of money off of her. We won't take any cuts, we just appreciate your kindness in letting her in to fight. We remember the NDAs we signed, yes. We will not be talking about any of the fights that happened here. Thank you, sir. So long." Gaz/Malcolm finishes up his conversation with whoever is outside and walks in. "Viper, we are leaving. Pack up." His American accent still startles her as she nods and starts grabbing what little she brought in.

"Let's go then." Cherry/Viper throws the knapsack over her shoulder and follows 'Malcolm' out the door, and out the underground fighting ring.

"So... home time?"

"Yeah, time to go back home." Gaz hands Cherry an ear piece, and continues walking, putting one in himself.

"Good job, 'Viper'. Painting the ring red." Ghost speaks into the ear piece, his voice reminding her that she's finally going home.

Author's Cup of Tea: I'm not gonna lie, this took so fucking long. I'm glad it's over. It kinda just sat in the drafts because I didn't know how to end it so let's hope it ended ok. Let me know what you think!

[caffieneaddictt18]

The 141 and Graves and Konig corrective punish you, their sub, for people pleasing habits.

Ghost: Makes you workout with him, if you don’t like that. He will also take away certain privileges.

Soap: I think he would take away his attention. Going from being straight up, golden retriever type attention to nothing.

Gaz: I think Gaz would also take away his attention, but it would be the small things. Like, leaving his mug on the counter instead of putting it in the dishwasher. Or not picking out your outfit for you, if you’re into that.

Price: Price would punish you by making you say no to things that he knows make you uncomfortable. He’s breaking a people-pleasing habit and he knows you have a hard time saying no directly, so he’s going to force it.

Graves: I think Graves would take away your masturbation privilege. He definitely did the personal dildo mold thing and took away the dildo, and then keeps the rest of your toys in a lockbox for him to use on you. But, when it comes to this, he’s going to make you have to voice your want for it in the same way you’d say no. Or he’d spank you if you aren’t a masochist.

Konig: I think Konig would use your games. Whether that’s phone games or, like, PC or console games, he would constantly check just to make sure that you weren’t breaking the rules either. And if you did, he would dish out some spanks or time-outs, whichever he feels would fit best.

[caffieneaddictt18]

Came to sit in the kitchen to eat in peace and my dad has taken three seperate phone calls just pacing around me istg this family drives me insane

[caffieneaddictt18]

the other day, my fiancee was putting together online orders (works in online ordering at Wally-World) and he saw a whole basket of just lunch meat and stopped, mid walk, to say ‘You’re meat. You’re just meat.’

Just meat

[caffieneaddictt18]

in ramansu

[caffieneaddictt18]

when little miss "i can do it by myself" meets mr "sit down" >>

[caffieneaddictt18]

Monster fuckers are so creative cuz it’s like you’ll look at a monster and go “how the fuck would one go about fucking that?” And then a monster fucker will slither from the shadows and give a demonstration of human ingenuity

[caffieneaddictt18]

what? oh sweetheart no, you're not weirding me out at all. you're weirding me in. keep talking, freak

[caffieneaddictt18]

reblogging for worldbuilding

do hybrids have their own clothes specifically for their extra limbs line wings, tails, horns, ect? Or do they have to modify and cut holes into their clothes to make them fit?

theres actually a huge industry for hybrid clothing! theres a few quick fixes big corperations offer, but they lowkey pale in comparison to custom clothes.

for wings an open back is pretty obvious, but may not always be acceptable in some cultures (bc the back can be an erogenous zone for winged hybrids). in that case, you would need to have custom shirts with slits cut to fit your wings, or specific covers (see last photo)

pants are always the hardest, just due to the sheer amount of variety. not including fins or spines, tails at least have some descent options

clothes are super important to hybrid culture, and sewing can often be considered a bonding activity. hybrids in highschool may invite people over to mod clothes, or families would teach the kids to sew the same way they are taught to read.

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[caffieneaddictt18]

can i stress the importance of boundary setting? of being able to say no? if you want to be able to play with this shit, or really engage sexually at all, you need to be able to look someone in the eye and say “i don’t want this.”

[caffieneaddictt18]

I love what we've done with the word "ratatouille." It's kinda like how we fucked up the popular understanding of the word inception, except we borrowed a word from a language we usually copy 1:1 and assigned it a wildly unrelated meaning. Hell with the tomatoes. Steer that man by his hair.

[caffieneaddictt18]

The lion does not concern itself with the bank account balance when a little treat is calling