#(facial expressions on helmets>>>>)
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cabbagege · 2 months ago
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Top 1 prank that went wrong
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httpiastri · 1 year ago
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sorry but i honestly dont know anyone as cute as these two
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waterlogged-detective · 10 months ago
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"My helmeted friend, how do you handle eating and drinking in public? Every new snack turns into a puzzle to me. See this Kolomanian viennoiserie they gave me? I couldn't just refuse it - that'd be impolite - but I have no idea how am I supposed to eat it while still fresh!" - @neathbowprideflag's Courier
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Hope this helps!!!!
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leonardalphachurch · 11 months ago
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IF i made more emojis with those helmets but giving each character like different ones (for example church with 🖕 or simmons with ☝️) would anyone have any ideas/requests
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nieithryn · 1 year ago
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MUSE BODY LANGUAGE
BOLD what applies. ITALICIZE what sometimes applies. STRIKETHROUGH what never applies.
DEFENSIVENESS :
arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth
REFLECTIVE :
hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off — cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to the bridge of the nose / pursed lips / knitted brows
SUSPICION :
arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict and unwavering eye contact / wrinkling the nose
OPENNESS & COOPERATION :
open hands / upper body in sprinters position / leaning in closely / sitting on the edge of a chair / hand-to-face gestures / unbuttoned coat / tilted head / slacked shoulders / droopy and relaxed posture / feet pointed outward / palms flat and facing outward
CONFIDENCE :
hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up /  shoulders back / arms folded just above navel
INSECURITY & ANXIETY :
chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “ whew ” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging at pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing fingers sporadically
FRUSTRATION :
short breaths / “ tsk ” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / running hand through hair / rubbing back of neck /snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eyed glowers with notable tension in the brows / shoulders back, head up - defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales
ACQUIRED FROM: @prodijedi
TAGGING: Ehhhh anyone who wants to, tag me if you like!
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oracleofdiscord · 1 year ago
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paintings of The Judgment of Paris that basically show the same woman 3 times (maybe with different hair colors):
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leofrith · 1 year ago
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[becomes invested in a new character] but what if they were in mandalorian armor though
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tenth-sentence · 7 months ago
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The sun-screening gold of the helmets' faceplates means no expressions make it out of the suit.
"The Moon: A History for the Future" - Oliver Morton
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korshrimpski · 3 months ago
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13/03/2025 - WSH @ LAK
"WHO ELSE BUT DARCE"
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every kings win we reach new and dazzling heights of "what the hell are they doing"
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improbabledreams900 · 2 days ago
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Honestly the Murderbot show is doing a great job showing the difference its helmet makes. At first I thought they’d want it down most of the show so we could see Alexander’s face (ya know, because they hired an actor and not a stunt double), but it’s really becoming clear that the helmet being on or off is part of the story. And honestly helmet!Murderbot IS significantly scarier.
Murderbot with its helmet on (especially with the robotic voice treatment) is a (literally) faceless killing machine, and no one knows what it’s going to do next. Murderbot with its helmet off is a perpetually confused, anxious, and stressed person who wants to get this over with so it can go back to its shows and be left alone.
This adds a lot of nuance to whenever the PresAux team asks/begs it to take its helmet off. The team desperately needs to gauge its “human” facial expressions in order to feel safe vs. please god let me stay in my helmet if they see all my involuntary facial reactions they’re going to Ask About My Feelings again.
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feral-peacock · 1 year ago
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Eddie's first interaction with Abby is fucking hilarious and no one can ever take that away from me.
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rockingbytheseaside · 8 months ago
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Hii!! I love your writing sm like you’re literally my go to blog when I get bored and I end up rereading your fics 😋. Not sure if you have rules or anything so idk what I can and can’t request (IF YOU DO AND THIS ISN’T IN LINE WITH IT I’M SO SORRY.. 😭).
Could I request the harbingers crushing on reader? Like I can imagine them being slightly more lenient with reader which confuses most of the soldiers. Again feel free to ignore this 💗‼️‼️
(giggling and kicking my feet rn, this is the type of partially-satirical fluff I headcanon. Hope you like it)
✦ When they secretly have a crush on you
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe
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✧ The ever-cold and impeccable Pierro – a mystery that even his associates and top harbingers cannot decipher. Not many can be considered as his close confidants, so none is certain of his personal life and preferences. A cold, stern man like The Jester probably doesn’t waste a glance on frivolous affairs or pleasantries. Even if many high-status people tried to approach him - aristocrats, business partners, or noble ladies; his cold gaze shuts off any initiation for close relations. No, he sees their greed for power too clearly to be swayed.
Yet Pierro harbors a deep secret. He does fancy a type… and that type is you.
It’s not simply your physical attributes or style, his ‘type’ is literally everything you embody. The shape of your jawline when you lower your face, the delicate shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks, how your chest moves when you take a deep sigh. From the minor and inconsequential attributes, he memorized it to his heart until the only thing his gaze is seeking is you across the room. He was always silently enamored, his eyes watching you with reverence. However, he is a mastermind, first and foremost. Concealing his inner sonnets for his love for you came naturally just as he conceals half of his face with a Khaenri’ahn mask.
You, on the other hand, were oblivious. Nervous, even. Facing off the most powerful man, cursed with immortality just as you all those centuries felt intimidating, especially when you couldn’t grasp why his gaze kept lingering so melancholically.
“It is… good to see you again, Pierro,” – that was your initial words when the two of you spoke formally. In truth, your mind was filled with wistful thoughts: he probably settled down with someone after 500 years of immortality.
In the meantime, Pierro’s mind was at comical odds with his cold exterior as he thought: Hmmm… Yes, I’ve already decided on the name of our potential third child.
But of course, he didn’t say that, even if he looked slightly mesmerized. Instead, he just settled with a polite: “A pleasure, indeed”. It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.
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✧ Il Capitano was avoiding you like the plague, and you couldn't fathom why. Whenever you crossed paths, his oppressive silence would intimidate you further. He would linger behind you, a looming presence so quiet that at times, you’d forget he was even there. Alas, when you finally muster up the courage to approach him directly, he'd respond with the briefest of words, avoiding any attempts of chatter.
It infuriated you. So much so that you started wondering if perhaps you did something wrong. He sparred with you countless times, the taste of a battlefield is nothing foreign when he trained alongside you. You felt like a stranger. Why he was so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension, and alas, his pitch-black expression did not portray any facial clues on what he was thinking.
The truth of the matter is that Capitano has mastered the art of keeping his head impassively still. With a helmet on his face and lack of visage, no one sees his gaze ogling your form whenever you train. Your movements mesmerize him during battles, your legs swift and your stance is powerful. Of course, he would be silent when he is staring directly at your beauty in action. You rendered him speechless, and now the Harbinger is diverting himself by discreetly peeking at you. Thank the archons for his helmet hiding his gaze.
But the Captain scolds himself. No, he mustn’t! It is improper of him to even lay his eyes upon a being so diligent and strong as you, he must respect-… Nope, his head is automatically turning towards you anyway. Lost in his silent battle of self-reprimand, he didn’t notice you suddenly approaching:
“Captain, we need to talk. What is the reason for your cold shoulder towards me? If I have done something improper you must tell me… You always avoid me, even when we’re supposed to cooperate.”
The same characteristic silence followed him, however, seeing you cornering him so sternly, even the Harbinger had to drop his resolve.
“...You must forgive me. Your beauty had overwhelmed me to such an extent that I felt ashamed to admit how you rendered me speechless to approach you.”
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✧ A long time ago, before Il Dottore bore the title of a Harbinger, there was a young boy named Zandik. This little Zandik was trainee Dastur, a prodigy of his field and academic year. But he wasn't the only top student of the Akademiya, in fact, this young man was standing in the shadow of a brilliant senior student whom he always looked up to with innocent wonder – you.
You weren't aware of the younger student with short turquoise hair trailing you. He, however, was aware of you because your portrait often graced the accomplishments of the establishment, thesis research, and any academic honors of the top young researchers. Since you were a senior, Zandik couldn’t share lectures with you, yet it didn’t stall him. Every thesis bearing your name, he read; every book you borrowed from the House of Daena, he memorized meticulously. His revenant studies of everything you did mesmerized his young mind, leading him to linger behind the lecture hall doors, drawn to where you so often spent your time.
It was a harmless habit, the boy believed; surely you never noticed him?
One day, Zandik spotted you chatting with your peers in the hallway. Unfortunately for you, you inadvertently left behind your precious notebook, forgotten in the rush to your next class. The young man didn't have it in himself to run after you and directly return it. Instead, it was his chance to study your secrets. His hands hesitated only briefly before he grasped the notebook, feeling the weight of the handwriting he so admired.
When he first opened the notebook, the first page read in massive writing: “I KNOW YOU'RE STEALING MY NOTES – THIEF.”
That was approximately 400 years ago. So much so that the memories of your student self were long forgotten in your mind. When you later on met the 2nd of the Fatui Harbinger, you expected the Fatuus to coerce you for cooperation. To demand you to leverage your expertise in Khaenri'ahn technology, or perhaps blackmail you into his maddening cause. But none of that transpired.
The grown man, now known as Il Dottore, stood blankly in front of you, eerily placid. His once youthful awe had matured into something far more inscrutable, like a long-buried sincerity breaking through his Doctor’s mask. Without a word, he extended a hand, offering you an old, tattered notebook. It was that same old notebook from your Akademiya days.
“... Huh? Where did you get this?”
“Perhaps a young boy was too excited to pilfer what wasn't his. I apologize for borrowing it. That boy never wanted his idol to think of him as a thief. If it wasn't so arduous to seek you out all those centuries, I would've returned it to you earlier.”
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✧ With his face perched on his knuckles, Scaramouche sat down listening to your ramblings. You would think a Harbinger with his temper, would long since exhausted his patience, waving you off to scram from his presence. Yet the moment you start talking, he is obediently listening, like a devoted man waiting for his blessing from the Grand Narukami Shrine
“But I never saw you enjoy any snacks or drinks while you’re out,” – you mused with excitement, launching on a tangent about this mysterious Inazuman beside you. “Oh! How about this, I’ll start guessing your favorite pastime food or beverage and you tell me if I am right or wrong.”
Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, but crossed his arms indifferently - “A futile endeavor but suit yourself anyway.”
Undeterred, you accepted the challenge. You listed each and every single delicacy in Teyvat that you could recall, from Inazuman mochi, dango, and sake to even Mondstadt’s Cold Cut Platter and wine. The Balladeer only scoffed, amused at your silly attempts to deduce him, as if he was some mystery you should decipher.
“Ugh, Okay! My last attempt. Is it… green tea?!”
Scaramouche went silent at the sight of your anticipation - “Hm,”
“No way… did I guess correctly, at last! Are you a herbal tea enthusiast? Oh, I knew it, I knew it!”
You exclaimed with unattained joy, leaving the Balladeer to silently observe your self-proclaimed victory. The truth of the matter is - that wasn't the correct answer. Scaramouche doesn't care for any teas or snacks, not when his artificial palettes found human indulgences to be redundant. Yet, looking at your jubilant face, glowing with delight as if you’d uncovered some profound world secrets, he couldn’t bring himself to confess. How foolish.
“Hah, fine, you got me. You must be thrilled to guess something so mundane.”
“Well, maybe mundane to you, but I was pretty curious what a living puppet would prefer to drink.”
Your sudden words caused Scaramouche to freeze. He never told you he was a puppet by nature, and most people would never guess what he is. Yet here you were, stating it so simply and obviously. Most ridiculously, you didn’t seem crestfallen by the weight of this truth. “You knew…? I'm not sure if I should compliment your keen observation, or if this is another one of your random guesses. What gave it away?”
“I thought it was obvious.” - you eased a sincere smile, your hand reaching to carefully brush a stray hair on his head. “No regular human would have such a perfectly pristine face like yours. Even if they had the most luxurious face-care routine.”
If puppets had blood flow, there would've been a pink hue dusting his cheeks. It seems he was the fool here after all. Ever since that day, he has found the taste of green tea to be rather soothing.
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✧ A popular misconception about Pantalone is that he allowed you to walk into his life and pursue him so easily. Trully wrong. In reality, it was this Harbinger who had been pursuing and courting you from the very beginning - like a lovestruck fool, no less.
At first, Pantalone tried to be the charmer. He’d offer you heavy bags of Mora as if it was pocket change and say in his best alluring voice - “Go spoil yourself with something new, dear. I want you to look your best on our next date.”
The issue was you were dense like a rock. Because you blinked at the mora and said simply: “Why? I already have comfortable clothes, I don’t need any right now.”
He wanted to slap himself. Any attempts at spoiling you with riches or gifts were futile, especially when you humbly rejected his monetary help out of casual practicality. You always stated that others in need would require it more. Very well, he won’t sulk just yet. He decided on his next act of refinement. He’d invite you with him to any luxurious events: galas, opera performances, dinner parties; all carefully orchestrated to impress you, showcasing how he can provide you with any wonder from the world, linking his arm elegantly with yours to flaunt how you’re accompanying the 9th of Fatui Harbingers himself.
That didn’t work as well. Whenever a business meeting occurred with vital connections, your gaze bore no interest in the wealth of the higher class, nor did you beat around the bush to dismiss yourself. Instead of marveling at the company of riches and endless champagne flutes, he’d instead find you marveling at the ducks swimming in the pond of a garden – ���Look, duckies!”
Pantalone was in visible distress. All this gold that people die for yet you so naively dismissed him. Was he unworthy of your simple love? Was he too pompous for you and forgot his own origins? His self-doubt gnawed at him at night, so much so that his own subordinate would see him pacing in his office with a tremor of restlessness, thinking how he should open this topic with one he so openly treasures.
“My dear, please tell me what your heart seeks,” – he once opened the discussion with you, his hand clasping yours in an act of pleading. “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable with my actions. Just say the word and I will bring you what you want.”
Once more, you blinked at him in that same sweet innocence, but instead, you spoke with a smile: “Oh, you silly, silly man Pantalone. I never wanted your mora or status. I do not wish to be indebted to you, no. I just wish you to be as you are. If you want to take me to a restaurant, take me there, not because it’s a fancy establishment, but because it has your favorite food. Plain and simple.”
The young Harbinger didn’t know it was possible to fall in love even more. It seems he mistook your humble sincerity with naivety, never once pondering that perhaps you didn’t want a partner for the sake of connection or money. That being his true self was something he could even offer you.
In the upcoming days, Pantalone’s subordinate could clearly see was smitten beyond logic or reason. Like a grinning child, resting his chin on his palm when sitting behind a desk, feet almost kicking with excitement. He really was enamored with you from the start.
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✧ If there is one thing Tartaglia’s heart relishes, it’s the rush of a challenge. And you, as a whole, challenged this young man on a daily basis. His bubbling persona and eccentricity to rush into action was an antithesis to your blunt calmness and reason. If he is the one launching into battle, you are the one who is yanking him by the collar while maintaining that unimpressed look.
Thus, as a challenge, Childe took it upon himself to make you break that serene attitude from you. At least once, and his heart will soar with victory. Unbeknownst to him, everything he did fumbled.
He started with cheesy attempts to flirt with you, flipping his ginger hair back while leaning on the wall with a captivating smile to make sure your eyes were on his form alone. It might have made you swoon, if he hadn’t miscalculated and leaned against the door instead, stumbling awkwardly when it swung open.
Another attempt was made when he tried to play the savior. The two of you were strolling when a Hydro Hilichurl Rogue stumbled upon your path in the wild, its makeshift scythe warning you two to get away. For the Harbinger, this was an easy opportunity to dispel such a puny target and save you. Except the Hilichurl Rogue kept throwing hydro slimes, which his vision of the same element was useless against. You managed to drag Tartaglia (almost) unscathed.
Everything was going against Tartaglia’s luck and he felt like an utter failure in front of you. He’s the 11th, for crying out loud, he always fairs well when something challenges him. Yet here he is, getting bandaged by you after fumbling countless times in your presence. Your first impression of him must be beyond salvageable at this point.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you’re a problematic teen who gets into trouble all the time. Because you sure act like it,” – you stated to him simply. Securing his cuts and bruises on his shoulder.
“If I confess that such accidents rarely happen, would that change your opinion of me, or is it too late to start from zero? Ouch-” he winced when you tightened the bandages, his bruises not alleviating the sensation. The culpability of it all made him sulk, realizing he was probably putting you into trouble with all his shenanigans. “I’d die for you, you know.”
“That is the dumbest thing I've heard.”
Your words were concrete, his gaze averted with guilt and sorrow. But you continued quaintly.
“Why would anyone say something so senseless? I don’t want you to ‘die’ for me or anyone, even. What about ‘keep living’ for someone? For me… for your family, for yourself. Anyone can blindly plunge themselves to their death, but it takes actual courage and strength to keep living for those you care about. So please, do that for me instead of getting into trouble.”
The once serious expression on Tartaglia's softened with each word you spoke. Now he realizes that perhaps you putting up with his impulsivity stemmed not from frustration, but out of sincere worry. Maybe in his attempt to charm you, you were the one charming him all along. Especially when you sit so close to tend to him, it would feel so natural to wrap his arm around and embrace you.
“You’re right… I suppose it is reckless. Living for yourself seems truly priceless if it means seeing you beside me for another day.”
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languid-bones · 5 months ago
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I love a character who wears a mask or a helmet all the time and yet you can see every single thought rattling around in their brains
MB focusses so much on controlling its facial expressions and misses its armour so much, but my buddy, Eden Murderbot SecUnit Rin, your humans are gonna notice you jumping two meters back at the mention of sex, armour or not.
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carnalcrows · 5 months ago
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I'VE BEEN A GOOD BOY OFFICER - HWANG JUN-HO
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pairing: traffic police! junho x trans male reader
synopsis: "When a midnight speeding ticket turns into a lesson in creative payments, Officer Jun-ho finds himself issuing a warning he never saw coming."
content warnings: 18+, blowjobs, semi-public sex, hair pulling, face-fucking, driving over the speed limit, facial.
word count: - 1.4k
A/N: the request: link
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It was a quiet night on the Seoul streets, the kind that lulls most into a false sense of security. You, however, weren’t most people. The hum of your motorcycle slicing through the silence was a thrill you couldn’t resist. That is, until the flash of red and blue lights cut through the night like a bad omen.
You groaned under your breath as you slowed to a stop. “Of course,” you muttered.
The officer approaching your bike was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfortunately for you, painfully good-looking. His uniform fit just a little too well, the crisp lines accentuating his sharp jawline and piercing eyes. He didn’t even need to say anything before you felt like you were already caught.
“License and registration,” he said in a tone that was both authoritative and tired.
You pulled off your helmet, your messy hair falling into place as you gave him your most disarming smile. “About that... I, uh, might’ve left my wallet at home.”
He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No ID, speeding in the middle of the night, and you think a smile’s going to fix this?”
“Well,” you said, leaning on your handlebars, “it’s a pretty good smile.”
His lips twitched, but he held his composure. “That’s not how this works. What’s your name?”
“Why, Officer Jun-ho,” you teased, catching a glimpse of his name badge, “I didn’t realize we were on a first-name basis.”
He let out a deep sigh, clearly trying to maintain his patience. “Look, if you can’t pay the fine, you’ll have to come down to the station.”
“No wallet, no cash,” you said with a shrug, leaning back. “But maybe I can... offer something else?”
Jun-ho froze, his jaw tightening. “Are you serious?”
“Depends,” you replied, smirking. “Am I getting arrested, or are you going to hear me out?”
His expression was unreadable as he studied you, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, interest, or maybe exasperation.
“Follow me,” he finally said, turning on his heel and walking toward the patrol car.
“Where are we going?” you asked, trailing behind.
“Just shut up and walk,” he muttered, though his ears were turning red.
Before you knew it, he had guided you to a secluded alley nearby. Jun-ho turned to face you, his expression half-irritated, half-uncertain. “What exactly are you offering?”
You stepped closer, dropping your voice to a teasing whisper. “You really don’t know?”
His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you closed the gap between you, brushing your lips against his in a slow, deliberate kiss.
For a moment, Jun-ho was as still as a statue, his brain clearly short-circuiting. Then, as if a switch flipped, his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips moved against yours with surprising fervor, all traces of professionalism thrown out the window.
The kiss was messy, desperate, and absolutely electric. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your sides as if anchoring himself to reality. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss and earning a low, breathy sound from him that made your knees weak.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his face flushed and his uniform slightly rumpled.
“That’s one way to pay a fine,” you quipped, grinning.
Jun-ho groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I’m definitely losing my job for this.”
“Worth it, though,” you said, tapping his chest. “Right, Officer?”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Jun-ho’s chuckle died as you slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of him through his uniform. His breathing hitched when you tugged him closer by the collar, your smirk daring him to resist. Spoiler: he didn’t.
“I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this, Officer,” you teased, your voice low and teasing against his lips.
He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“Always,” you replied, leaning in again, and this time, the kiss was even hungrier.
Jun-ho responded instantly, his lips capturing yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips like he was trying to ground himself, while your own fingers found their way into his hair, tugging lightly and earning a muffled groan that sent a shiver down your spine.
The alley, dim and secluded, felt like it belonged to just the two of you. The world outside blurred into irrelevance as Jun-ho pressed you back against the cool brick wall, the solid surface a stark contrast to the heat between you. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.
You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers tugging his hair again. “And here I thought you were the strict, by-the-book type.”
Jun-ho pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and want. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the way his thumb brushed against your cheek said otherwise.
“You like it,” you shot back, your smirk returning as you looped your arms around his neck.
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, as if savoring every second. His hands roamed your sides, his touch firm but careful, as if afraid you’d vanish if he let go.
The kiss deepened, and you lost track of time, the midnight air cool against your skin while Jun-ho’s warmth was all-consuming. By the time you pulled apart again, both of you were breathing heavily, your faces flushed, and his uniform slightly askew.
Jun-ho rested his forehead against yours, his lips twitching in what might have been an embarrassed smile. “This is... not how I imagined my shift going.”
“Best shift you’ve ever had, though,” you teased, your voice still breathless.
“Debatable,” he muttered, though the small, fond smile on his face betrayed him.
You pressed another kiss to his swollen lips before slowly sinking to your knees, while unbuckling his belt.
His breath grew ragged as you gently pulled out his aching length from the confinement of his boxers. 
“Such a pretty dick,” you cooed, before kissing the tip and licking a stripe down the long vein from his girth to the head. He threw his head back, relishing the feeling of your tongue on his cock.
Soon, you swallow him whole, bobbing your head up and down his length, while your hand reaches up to cup his balls, filled with his load.
You other hand unbuttons you own pants, pressing a finger onto your aching clit, rubbing slow, calculative circles around it.
‘You seemed to know what you were doing,’ Jun-ho thought to himself, with a striking realization that you might’ve sucked his colleagues off too.
With the green cloud of envy (over someone he had just met) blocking his view, he gripped you hair with his hand and forced you to take him all the way until your nose breathed in the musk of his pubes.
You on the other hand were more turned on, as your hands had sunk into your tight folds, pumping in an out with a fervour.
Soon, Jun-ho felt himself going to climax, so he pulled out, but kept your head firmly in place by your hair. Spurts of white soon released from his cock, right onto your face. You took it all, mouth wide open and tongue sticking out; all while looking at him right in the eyes.
His grip on your hair relaxed, so you slowly got up, knees shaking.
You straightened his slightly rumpled collar, your hands lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Guess I should speed through your part of town more often.”
Jun-ho gave you a warning look, though his flushed cheeks and the way his gaze lingered on your lips made it far less threatening. “You do, and I’ll write you up for real next time.”
“Sure you will,” you said with a wink, stepping back toward your bike.
As you swung a leg over, you caught the way his eyes followed your every move, and you couldn’t resist blowing him a cheeky kiss.
“See you around, Officer,” you called before revving the engine.
Jun-ho stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair and muttering something under his breath before turning back toward his patrol car.
You sped off into the night with a grin plastered on your face. Maybe breaking the rules wasn’t so bad after all.
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Meanwhile, a crackle of Jun-ho’s walkie talkie caught his attention.
“Sir, you do remember that the first button of your shirt has a camera installed, right?”
Oh.
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© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.
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oldermen-enthusiast · 5 months ago
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Loki Headcanons
This is just my opinion on how I imagine Loki!! Fluff with just a hint of smut 🤭
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He loves simple physical touch like when you take his face in your hands and be gentle with him, forehead kisses and running your fingers through his hair. He just wants to be taken care of. 🥹
He’s very needy when kissing you, he can’t get you close enough to him.
He’s a whining mess when you kiss his neck, give him back scratches and lightly pull his hair.
Loves giving you kisses on your palm of your hands especially in public
In the morning waking up with you he’s very clingy and handsy kissing you anywhere and everywhere he can. Won’t let you go, he’ll keep pulling you back into bed.
He’s a attention seeker, when your busy doing something he just loves to give you kisses to your temples and the sensitive places on your neck to try and distract you and give him attention
He always has a grumpy mad face but Whenever he see you walk in the room his face lights up with the cutest smirk.
He loves foreplay, loves taking his time with you. Kissing every inch of your body tell he has you begging him for more. He’s definitely a huge tease.
He loves aftercare, he loves to take care of you; he’ll run the shower for you both, clean you up, gives you a massage and cuddles in bed tell you both fall asleep.
Loki loves going down on you while he’s wearing his helmet; so you can hold onto the horns. 😏
His pet names for you include “kitten” “my love” “darling” & “princess”
When he’s away on missions he carries a picture of you in his suit that he’ll glance at when he’s missing you, But won’t ever admit it.
Loki has a way with words but with you he stumbles on his words, distracted when you look him in the eyes, makes him blush.
He loves giving you gifts for no reason except that he just loves you.
He loves to watch you read, He finds it fascinating and adorable how your facial expressions change with each page.
He LOVES to cook for you, he’s a very good chef.
Loki could listen to you talk for hours, he loves the sound of your voice so much
He loves to make you blush by his words and actions. He gets a kick out of it; like i said he’s a big tease, he is the god mischief.
When you wear green it makes him go feral, he automatically gets horny.
He’s very protective over you and can get jealous easily. If anyone just tries to hurt/touch you, they're DONE.
He loves how you can see through his facade and understand the pain and loneliness that he feels. You’re the only one he can be vulnerable with.
You both Understand each other without needing to talk, you know each other so well.
He loves when you lay your head in his lap while he reads.
Loki likes to sneak up on you, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.
He is desperate for your Moans. He loves to hear you Scream his Name
Loves to take showers together, He especially Loves to wash/brush your hair. But he definitely loves shower sex even more.
will always Express how happy he is that your his "You're everything to me" “Your my world” “I don’t know what I do without you my love”
Lokis kinks
- Praise Kink: when you praise him he loves when you call him a good Boy and when he praises you “your doing so good for me, kitten” and “You Look so good under me”.
- Knife Play: using his Knife to free you from your Shirt/Bra. Using the cold side of the blade on your skin. But he could never hurt you.
- Love bites: He loves leaving hickeys and bite marks everywhere, especially where everyone can see so they know your his.
. ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + ° . ๑・° ⊹ . + . ๑・° ๑
For more writings/fics check out @joelmillermylove & @olderman-enthusiast 💕
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captain-bubble-wrap · 5 months ago
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Reader doing her skincare routine with quinny?
└( ゚∀゚)┘💚└(゚∀゚ )┘
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I changed this juuuuuuust slightly! 😘😘
"Hey, do you still want to watch that movie, or no?" Quinn asked, poking his head through your open bathroom door. You had your face over the sink as he talked, so his words were muffled by the sound of running water, but you got most of what he had asked. 
"Um, sure. I just need a few more minutes." Looking at him through the mirror, you hadn't realized how red his forehead was until he raked his fingers through his hair to expose it. "Honey, your skin is really red."
"It's okay," he replied, shrugging. 
Turning to face him, he looked at you confused. You had a look in your eye that meant you weren't about to let this go. 
"Baby, it's fine. It's just a few breakouts. I have them all the time."
"They're from your helmet, I know," you said, reaching up to touch his face. His skin was inflamed and you knew they had to be painful. "Can I help?"
Quinn sighed lightly, mainly because he didn't like to be fussed over, but he didn't want to hurt your feelings either. "You don't have to."
"I know, but I want to."
He knew you wanted to, so he folded without putting up a fight. "Okay, baby. Do whatever you want to."
You smiled warmly at his words, before giving him a soft kiss as a thank you. "Let me get you something to keep your hair out of your face first." 
From one of your drawers, you'd grab a thick, padded headband, made for just such things. Placing it behind his ears, you'd push it up and past his forehead to completely brush all the hair out of his eyes. He looked cute, even though you could tell he was absolutely embarrassed. 
"That's a look," he replied sheepishly, dropping his eyes from his reflection immediately. 
"You're cute, hush," you said, following a second kiss. "It's just us here."
Your words gave him enough reassurance to smile finally. Quinn stepped closer to the sink, seeing all of the various glass jars and bottles that littered your large counter. "Do you use all of these?"
"When I need to, yeah, but not all at once or anything. I won't use too many on you, though, so don't worry. I don't want to aggravate your skin anymore than it already is."
"What /are/ you going to do?" He asked, picking up one of the serum vials to press its button topper. 
"Going to start with a mask to draw what I can out of those blemishes, first."
"A mask?"
From a cabinet, you'd grab a clay mask jar and a silicone spatula to apply it with and had Quinn sit on the edge of your tub. 
"I'm going to warn you, as this dries, it's going to tighten, so you'll feel a slight pulling feeling, okay?"
He nodded, looking up at you slightly concerned, putting his hands on your hips as you stood between his legs. The product was cold to his skin, making him balk slightly at the sensation but not enough to pull away from you. 
"It's cold, I know. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he said, closing his eyes, his hands falling down to your bare thighs. You were wearing one of his Canucks t-shirts that was even too big for him, which was why you loved it to sleep in. 
"I'm just going to do your whole face."
Quinn smiled, "You don't need to waste all your products on me."
"I think we can confirm that I have enough," you giggled, painting the clay around his facial hair. "Almost done. It doesn't take much of this stuff."
"How long does it stay on?"
"Till it's completely dry, so probably fifteen-twenty minutes, give-or-take."
"Okay."
Quinn would stay seated on the tub edge while he watched you finish up your nightly routine. He was amazed with all of the steps you did, knowing he could never do the same. Every so often, you'd look over at  him, just sitting there, hands between his knees. He looked miserable.
"Are you okay, honey?" You asked, after noticing his expression change. 
"Yeah."
"You don't have to stay here with me if you don't want to, Quinn. You'd probably be more comfortable on the sofa or something."
He shook his head, "I'll stay with you, or am I hovering you?"
Sadness flooded your expression as you stepped towards him. "No, baby! You're not hovering! I just wanted to make sure you were okay!" You wanted to kiss him, but that wouldn't be the easiest at the moment. You'd settle for a soft smile which you made sure he saw. 
Quinn tried to smile as well, but the tightness of the drying clay made him stop his attempt, so he just kind of looked at you like a sad puppy. 
"It's almost dry, baby. Just a couple patches on your cheekbone. I must have gotten it a little thick there."
While the mask finished, you ran the water to get it a comfortable temperature beforehand. He was looking at the floor as you drenched the washcloth in the warm water and made your back to him. "Chin up, baby. Let me get this off of you."
Again, his hands would find your body, like you were his security blanket this time. In reality, he just wanted an excuse to touch you, which you never minded. Slowly, you'd make small swipes of the now pale-green product, revealing refreshed skin beneath. You would have to make several passes back and forth to the sink to rinse the cloth, and each time you did, he'd resume his holding of you. 
"I could have just stood by the sink, babe," Quinn said, feeling bad about making you make so many trips.
"It's no problem, but thank you." With everything but the problem spot to wash away, you'd bend down to give him that kiss he seemed so desperate to have. "I'm going to be real gentle now. Let me know if you need me to stop or anything."
"Okay, thank you."
First, you would just press the cloth to his skin, letting the product rehydrate slightly, to avoid having to aggressively scrub the area. Thankfully, it came off much easier after doing so. The redness was still apparent, but the size of the blemishes did look slightly reduced. 
"Look at that handsome man," you said, satisfied with the outcome. 
"Yeah, right," Quinn replied. "Am I done?"
"Not quite, baby. I have something else for you. That just helped dry up those spots. I need to actually treat them now." 
"Oh." 
It took you a moment, but eventually you found the sheet mask you had in mind.
"What is that?" He asked, seeing you pull the white blob out of the packaging. 
"It's a sheet mask," you laughed, unfolding it to reveal the shape of the face it was meant to cover. 
"That's weird."
"Yeah, they kind of are. Now, this one is going to be really cold compared to the last one."
"Alright. Oh, it's slimy," he said, as you aligned it with his face, making sure it wasn't in his eyes. 
"They're wonderful things, though. This one won't have to be washed off. And it's made for acne and stuff, so it's perfect for your problem. I have the same stuff that's in this mask in a pump. Why don't you take it and use it after your games? Then your forehead won't be so aggravated and painful. And before you decline my offer, I have a couple of them," you finished with a wink, knowing he was apt to bring it up. 
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I promise it will help."
Quinn smiled, giving you a squeeze as you still stood over him. "Well, now what?"
"We can start that movie if you want. Those masks you can sleep in, so there's no real time limit." 
"Sure." He rose to his feet, giving your cheek a soft touch with the back of his fingers. "I appreciate you wanting to help me. I'm clueless about all of this stuff."
"No problem, honey. It was fun," you smiled. "You should feel a lot of relief in the morning." 
"I hope looking like this is worth it," he shook his head, seeing what he looked like before leaving the bathroom with you. 
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