#7. something incredibly disgusting

[nekohrine]

being a fan of alien (1979) is amazing because there are at least three more films Exactly the same as That One

[littlelovelunette]

Headcanons (Featuring Sevika, Ambessa Medarda)

Little!Reader

Sevika

Genuinely didn't expect to hear it from you when you told her you regressed whenever things got overwhelming and your shoulders felt too heavy. But she didn't show any, even mild, signs of disgust. In fact, Sevika only wanted to coddle you more because of your revelation.

It doesn't take a day for Sevika to get all your stuffed toys, colouring books and everything ready for whenever you'd shift into little space.

Sevika knows whenever you slip into little space, the way you cling onto her harder than before and look around at the surroundings through your lashes, eyes big and a pout on those lips— she reads you like an open book.

"Baby, it's too hot," she says whenever you're trying to dip your finger into whatever magical soup she was making. No, silly, it's not magic— Sevika's just really good in the kitchen somehow.

"No sweets before bedtime," Sevika says, her voice stern as she reads a book, reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. You're left stunned, she didn't even have to look upto see you in your tippy toes, reaching for the jar of cookies.

Your favorite place is curled up against her chest while she smokes or tinkers. Her heartbeat, the mechanical arm's humming, and the smell of metal and smoke make you feel safe.

Sevika may act gruff with the rest of the world, but with you, she softens so much. She's extremely protective and doesn't tolerate anyone speaking to you harshly—even if you're in little space and babbling nonsense, she listens like it's gospel.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is stern and commanding in public, but in private with you, she’s incredibly gentle. She speaks slowly and clearly when you're little, always making sure you understand and feel safe.

Your little space is spoiled. She gets you the finest plush toys, silk blankies, custom coloring books, and handcrafted pacifiers from the best artisans in Noxus. If you like tea parties, she’ll get you porcelain tea sets—real ones, not plastic.

Structure is everything in her eyes. She sets strict nap and meal times, but not in a cold way. It’s because she believes littles need discipline to feel secure. “A stable child is a happy child,” she’ll say as she tucks you into bed exactly at 7:00 p.m.

Her deep voice is like a lullaby. She speaks to you in low, warm tones that make you melt. If you cry, she hushes you softly: “Shh… little one, you're safe with me. No harm will come to you.”

Your snacks are fancy. Fresh fruit slices shaped into stars, warm pastries, and gourmet hot chocolate. She insists her little one only eats the best.

She has one private nickname for you that no one else is allowed to use. It could be “cub,” “sweetling,” or something unique only she calls you when your headspace is small. It’s sacred—only for her lips and your ears.

She has a custom-built little chair next to her throne just for you, fitted with velvet cushions and your initials embroidered on it. You sit there during meetings sometimes, holding a stuffie and coloring, and no one dares question it.

[hitomisuzuya]

soft wanderer with a partner who's sleepy 24/7 :P (some somnophilia included is always welcome ofc)

wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. soft smut. soft wanderer. consensual somnophilia. clit rubbing. nipple play.

i'm nervous i am losing my touch. i hope everyone is well. i didn't go too overboard with smut since you only specified a little bit of somnophilia🥺

wanderer rarely ever showed an vulnerability. he only ever really seemed to show it around you. if you told anyone that he had a softer side, he knew they would've laughed at you.

how sweet you are. you tried to stay up until he finished a few that were quite frankly time consuming. and that was time he'd much rather spend on you. sighing, he brushed some hair off of your face.

this was nothing new for you. sleep always seemed to encroach on you whenever it liked. he didn't mind. it was what it was. and he had to admit, you look really fucking cute sleeping. defenseless and vulnerable.

the amount of trust you have in him to sleep around him must be immeasurable. he didn't think anyone really had that trust around him. he couldn't exactly blame anyone for that. you never failed to make him utterly weak in the knees. which was a feat he didn't think was possible. until you.

you are that one complete and total anomaly. wanderer could hardly fathom every day how lucky he was.

he carefully leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your lips. however, he stopped halfway because he couldn't help but notice something incredibly obvious. something really enticing. his cheeks flushed, and his breath hitched quietly in his throat.

rewind to earlier in the day. wanderer saw you looking sleepy, and suggested you put a blanket on. he thought it was too chilly in his room for you sleep without one. but, you sleepily refused. you'd fallen asleep on your back, giving him a good view of your nipples poking out underneath your shirt.

when wanderer felt he was entitled to something, he took it. and you'd oh so sweetly given him permission to act on impulse while you slept. you always want to take care of him, even while you slept.

and the way he saw it, he was taking care of you as well. he was going to be damned if one bad dream plagued your sleep. if he could help that, he would. you wouldn't be having any bad dreams on his watch. and what better way that to make you dream about him.

wanderer carefully pulled your shirt and bra down off your breasts. he pressed the soft kiss to your lips, lingering his lips on yours before he worked his way down to your chest. your chest just looked so delectable.

the tip of his tongue swept out to flick across your nipple. he shivered feeling his tongue tingle from the sensation of the soft little nub on his tongue. you let out a soft sigh in your sleep. one that spoke volumes to him.

your body recognized him in your sleep. you sighed softly again, moving your chest slightly towards his mouth. "you are so cute it's disgusting," he whispered, gently groping your soft, squishy breast as he swirled his tongue around your nipple. "what a good girl, responding to me even while you sleep."

scooping your nipple into his mouth to suck on, his other hand trailed down between your legs. he unbuttoned your pants, dipping his fingers down into your panties.

he chuckled softly hearing you start to let out the softest, sleepiest sounding moans as his fingers circled your clit. you shifted in your sleep, your body subconsciously moving your hips a little in an attempt to seek friction from his fingers.

he switched his attention to your other nipple, gently pinching and rubbing your clit in the way he knew you enjoyed. he groaned softly feeling your arousal rapidly soaked his fingers. he knew that if he didn't put himself in check now, he would lose control and end up waking you up while he devoured you.

wanderer spent a few more moments he drew out as long as he could possibly let himself, massaging your clit and tracing his fingers between the drooling folds of your cunt. "i'll wait for you to wake up, but after that, you are all mine."

[sunlight-shunlight]

one of the most minor things that pisses me off these days is the sort of... disgusting opportunism, of people who will build their brands on running their mouths off 24/7 about Representation In Media™ and Diverse Voices™ and Art Standing Against Fascism™ and Writing Saving Lives™ or whatever the fuck else. but... only as long as it is convenient.

because, when the fascism is actually barking at the door... oh no, actually! they were mistaken! this isn't REALLY important! it's just escapism, teehee! why would ANYONE want to have something like "depictions of an oppressive authority" or "depictions of bigotry" in art? that's just like, suuuuch a bummer. wouldn't it be preferable to just not mention stuff like that? you don't need stuff like "dictatorships" or "war" to really be shown. why would people need to understand the weight and suffering those things cause, when art could be cozy instead? why on earth would we need pieces of fiction like 1984? that's so depressing! :)

and this is why veilguard in particular lives rent-free in my head (negatively). bc the performative, vaguely leftist-sounding slop that the creative leads parrot, is backed up by a game that has such incredible Social Themes as "i can excuse being nb, but i draw the line at being an immigrant!" and "women will not visibly age, get angry, have secrets, or look ugly, unless they're villains," and "slave rebellions MUST be nice, polite, convenient to society, and held entirely offscreen". groundbreaking!

i genuinely cannot imagine having a creative platform and the ability to reach large amounts of people in this current era, while working in a game series notable for social commentary (even ham-fisted commentary, but still), and then... quite obviously making the conscious decision to go with a narrative that has absolutely nothing of value to say about the world and its current systems of authority. not even by accident! and all this was done without formal government censorship! purely on profit motive alone! can you imagine how rapidly they'd fold up under any actual pressure. 💀

[sillyteecup]

Licking The Bloodstains from your alter

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

Warnings:

18+

Obsessive behavior

Violence

Mentions of murder

Very questionable decision making

Exhibitionism if you squint

Smut

Word count: 6954🧍🏾

A.N: remember how I was supposed to have this up 4 days ago? Fucking hilarious business I tell you, like I'm even slapping my knee and stuff🧍🏾. Anyway, here's my first Aaron Pierre/Terry Richmond fic to keep yall busy while I work on the series I've been yapping about. Thanks for reading, I really hope you enjoy it❤️

~Tee❤️

"7 months?"

"Yes Indi."

"7 months since someone else gave you an ass clenching, toe curling orgasm, head spinning, heart stopping orgasm?"

"Yes Indi."

"And that bum hasn't called you yet?"

"Yes Indi."

Mila watched boredly as her best friend's hands searched frantically for something to grab while her jaw hung open in disgust and disbelief. They had come back from a night out with Indi asking Mila why she didn't take anyone home with her. Mila's answer left Indi essentially crashing out in the driver's seat of her Mini Cooper right outside of Mila's house.

Although she was over it now, the first month of being ghosted by Terrence James Richmond had left her equally flabbergasted. The mystery American man she had met at Sumo last year gave her one of the best nights of her life when she took him home. It was actually the first time she had experienced an orgasm that wasn't self induced, and it was an out of body experience.

Luckily for Mila, Terry became a gift that kept on giving. Sucking her into an all consuming vortex of stormy eyes, expensive dates, late night phone calls and mind-blowing sex, Mila grew addicted to the enigma. Mind always occupied by the memories of him turning her every which way, the heart always yearning for his presence. Every moment, even non-sexual, felt incredibly intimate with him.

Yes, there were many glaring red flags like the fact that she knew nothing about him aside from his (South African) phone number and the fact he was from Louisiana USA. But in the same breath, he knew virtually nothing about her aside from her name, phone number and address. It was a mutual agreement that they would remain mysteries for each other to uncover. There was also his possessive streak. Despite his naturally calm and stoic demeanor, he always made sure to his claim on her when he fucked her; hand prints, hickeys and literal bite marks all over her for the world around her to see. And God forbid another man even thought of breathing in her direction in public: let's just say that Terry had no qualms with gratuitous PDA.

Mila wouldn't say she loved him, no, scratch that she did love him, but she also loved what he brought with him. The excitement, the passion and obviously, the dick. Even while riddled with commitment issues, Terry had hypnotized her into envisioning a future with him in it. She actually liked him and being around him. Mila actually wanted to keep him around.

Until one night when his usual 10 pm call didn't come. Until he never called, or knocked on her door again. She didn't even know any of his friends or whoever it was he stayed with so she couldn't reach him. For 2 weeks she blew his phone up, worried that something may have happened to him. One day she even caved and googled him, hoping to find a social media account or anything to alert her of his whereabouts. The only thing she managed to find was the fact that he served as a Marine for about 6 years before being honorably discharged a year ago. Everything else was a dead end.

Distraught at the sudden loss of someone who had etched himself into the life of a woman who never made space for lovers, Mila eventually grew to accept his disappearance. If anything, he solidified her lack of trust in romantic partners, pushing her back into the realm of strictly causal sex. The only problem was that he had ruined her for the rest of the world. She shuffled through hook-up after hook-up, chasing the high he had fed her during their 2 months together, to no avail. She began to suspect his dick was laced with something because there was no way it was impossible to replicate that feeling. Either way, she would never hear from any of those hook-ups again.

I wonder what that's about.

Maybe I'm just looking in the wrong places, she told herself. But alas, she eventually gave up on that as well, swearing celibacy for the next 2 years. She thought of it as a reset of her mind, body and soul. Maybe after enough time, she would be free from the now blood boiling memories and sex would become fun.

This mini-debrief session was the first time that Mila had spoken to anyone about Terry outside of a throwaway line like, "Gotta go, godly dick is waiting on my doorstep," and "This fuck-ass nigga is ghosting me." No one in her life even knew his name until now.

"No Mila, we need to find this gent and jump him. There's no way-" Indi yelled, smacking her dashboard in frustration.

Mila shrugged nonchalantly. Sure, the topic still stung a little, but she was at a point where she didn't wanna think or care about it anymore. Terrence James Richmond was gone and probably never coming back.

"I'm not doing that; broer probably always has a gun on him," Mila replied coolly. The last thing she needed was having a gun in the hands of a military man in her face because she overestimated her odds.

"It's fine, you just get your father to find him, then I'll organize the firepower for me, you and Sandy," Indi said, suggesting Mila convince her dad who had connections in the US military and the marines from the time of his Marine service.

Mila's eyes went cold at the suggestion. The last thing she wanted was to involve her hot-tempered and trigger happy father in the affairs of her sex life.

"Absolutely not," she stated firmly.

"But Mila-"

"Indiphile I said no. Ebile, let's drop this topic before I get PTSD flashbacks," Mila interjected, knowing that Indi wasn't going to drop it unless she firmly put her foot down.

Indi held her hands up in surrender, acknowledging that there was no room for argument. "Let's go inside then, I'd like to eat something decent before I go back to that baren land I call my apartment," Indi suggested while adjusting her jacket and grabbing her purse.

"Why don't you just sleep over?" Mila asked. Her dad's insistence on getting her a house instead of an apartment was one that Mila never opposed. At least that way she had more space and got to stick the whole apartment hunting and saving for a house process.

The joys of a bald rich dad with a guilty conscience.

"Neh? It's late and I've got toiletries and enough clothes here," Indi said in agreement, never passing up an invite to spend the night with her best friend.

The friends gathered their stuff and exited the car. They reached the front door, Mila sticking her key in the keyhole to unlock it.

It was already unlocked.

Mila and Indi froze, blood running cold at the possibility of an intruder. The worst part was that if they were in the living room, they already heard them try to unlock the door. Quickly, Mila grabbed her phone from her jean pocket and logged onto the app connected to the security system and cameras in the house.

My dad's paranoia is finally doing something for me.

No notification indicating entry and nothing in today's footage. Although it seemed that no one was inside, Mila was her father's daughter, so she grabbed the gun from her purse, cocking it and making Indi gasp.

"I'm over here talking about pulling strings for glocks, kanti you already have one?" she hissed in disbelief.

Mila just rolled her eyes and shushed her. "I don't know why you're so surprised when you've literally known my dad for this long," she replied calmly, hand reaching to carefully open the door.

Indi shrugged, conceding to Mila's point before slowly following her into the house with a teaser in hand.

Mila stepped into the living room, taking slow and quiet steps with the hope that no one was in the living room. Gun aimed at nowhere, her eyes scanned the dark area finding nothing until-

A lighter flickered. Her head snapped in the direction of the sound, finger instinctively pulling the trigger. Mila frowned. She had expected a grunt or a thud, but all she got was a startled scream from Indi, and probably a hole in the wall.

Maybe I'm hearing thi-

Suddenly Mila felt a hand roughly grip her wrist, catching her off guard and effectively disarming her. She tried kicking at the assailant but it was no use, because they either dodged or flat out blocked all her attacks. Indi had huddled in a corner screaming having dropped the taser in the shock of the gunshot, while a now anxious Mila did her best to fight the assailant off in the dark.

The scuffle however, was put to an end when Mila found herself roughly pinned against the wall right next to the switch for the living room lights. Coupled with the hand holding hers above her head, was the cold metallic barrel of her own gun pushing her chin up launching her into a further panic.

"Whatever it is you want: money, jewelry, what-just please-" she had begun to plead before being shushed.

"Shhhh. I'm only here for you sweetheart."

Ain't no way.

Right as the assailant spoke, Mila's eyes finally adapted to the dark. Although his face was covered in a ski mask, those eyes were unmistakable. Factoring in the voice and his scent-oh that rich, woody, spicy saffron mixed with vanilla and cloves...

"Terrence?"

"Sorry!?" Indi yelled from her corner, Mila realizing that she pondered a little too loudly.

The corners of the man's eyes crinkled. If this was Terry, he was cockily smirking under the mask.

He removed the gun from her skin, causing her to release a breath she didn't know she was holding, and reached for the switch behind her. Once the lights were on, he used the same hand to take the mask off, revealing his identity.

And there's that fuck-ass smirk.

Terry leaned in, dipping his nose into the crook of her neck and deeply inhaling her vanilla-peach and cocoa scent.

"So fucking good, just like I remember," he whispered, lifting his head to meet her rather blank looking eyes.

Mila's mouth was slightly agape as she searched her brain for something to say and how to feel. Too many responses flooded her mind all at once, leaving her blank loss of words.

Indi on the other hand had made up her mind. "Rhaaa, isbindi onaso, kaka ndini yendoda! Hayi uyabenza ubunqundu shem. Kwaye ufluent kubo. Hayi-hayi shem ndiyakuvuma! Wena? Eyakho ibrand yobuBitch ass nigga, ndiyaqala ukuyibona. U-Innovative wena ngamasimba-" she ranted in disgust as she walked towards them. Mila was actually scared that Indi would snap and put her hands on Terry. And that was not something Mila felt like dealing with.

As if reading her mind, Terry slowly backed away from Mila with his hands up while she gathered herself. Her uncertainty of her feelings would have to wait as the situation needed to be de-escalated.

"Indi, I need you to please calm down and wait for me upstairs," Mila requested calmly. "Terry and I have a lot to talk about."

Indi frowned before nodding and stomping up the stairs to the guest room she usually slept in, leaving Mila and Terrence alone in the living room.

The latter's gaze was on Mila, longing, and terrifyingly primal. His lips were still stretched in a smirk as he walked over to her. "I never stopped thinking about you," he unconsciously reassured her.

She sucked her teeth in before saying, "Yet you never came back. You never even fucking called," she spat as she took a step back.

Bitter. Mila was bitter, and angry at this man's audacity to disappear for as long as he did, then break into her house and sing her hymns of sweet nothings.

"Sweetheart I never left," his tone was light and sweet, an unnerving contrast to his physical demeanor..

Mila's eyebrows furrowed, face scrunching up in confusion. "Yes you did. You ghosted me for 7 months while you were who-knows-where, ignoring all of my calls and texts," she argued as she pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"That doesn't mean I was gone," Terry insisted, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.

"What do you even mean by that?" Mila asked incredulously, getting progressively baffled and impatient.

He hooked a finger under her chin, raising it for her eyes to meet his.

"I mean exactly that. I've been here the whole time watching you, keeping you safe," he whispered. Although he sounded sincere, his irises twinkled with something sinister. Like there was a darker edge to his revelation.

"Well, except I did leave for about a week, but I was always gonna come back to you. Then my pops called about getting me a job down here, and I couldn't believe my luck when he told me who was offering and what it was," he explained, with a light chuckle.

Mila arched an eyebrow, "You gonna tell me or-" she was interrupted by Terry placing his index finger against her lips.

"So impatient. You really are daddy's little girl," he mused, confusing Mila even more. How the hell would Terry know that when she had never even spoken about him to her?

"But let me cut to the chase. Your pops basically hired me to be your...long distance bodyguard to put it simply," he shrugged. "So like I said, I've been here the whole time, watching you."

Something about the way he said "watching you," made Mila's blood run cold. She doubted he meant it as strictly professional.

"Watching me?" she choked out, terror seeping in at what he could mean.

"Yeah...watching you eat. Watching you sleep. Watching you shower. Watching you go about your routines and shit."

Then he leaned in, head dipping to plant kisses up her neck, and jaw until his lips softly grazed her earlobe. "Watching you let some random niggas touch what's mine," he said before planting more soft kisses on her jaw, eliciting a moan.

However, it didn't take long for her to register his words, and her body stiffened. "Terry..."

"Mmm?" he hummed against her skin.

"Don't tell me you-"

"Got rid of 'em? Tuh, each and every last one...gone!" he laughed menacingly before stepping back to look into her now teary eyes.

"N-no, no, no, NO! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Mila cried as she stared at him in horror.

"Nah, don't get it twisted sweetheart, this is all on you. I did it all for you!" Terry tried to grab a hold of her hand but she fought him off, disgusted by him using her as a scapegoat.

"You killing innocent people because you're a jealous, possessive, psychotic creep was for me? Try again Terrence," Mila spat venomously.

Terry ran a hand over his frustrated face, doing his best to quell his rising temper as a result of her tone. He desperately dug through the corners of his mind for a way to reason with her, not wanting things to come to a head. Even though they had only argued once before this, Terrence knows that with their combined tempers, a fiery explosion was afoot.

"They couldn't make you cum-"

"Wow-"

"They couldn't satisfy that precious little pussy the way I could. Never had your eyes rolled back, your toes curling, your legs shaking...nothing. And that shit tore you up from the inside out," he said, reminding her of the frustrating aftermath of her sexcapades.

"I watched you, every Saturday , crying and throwing shit around because you hated me for ruining you. You screamed and cried about being broken and that you hated them for not being able to fix you. You were spiraling-It wasn't just them," Terry rambled, making Mila's scowl even deeper.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait...Terry...who else did you kill?" Mila asked, prompting Terry to retrieve a backpack from underneath her coffee table. She watched as he took out a binder and placed it on the table and sat next to it, gesturing for her to come closer.

She complied, albeit hesitantly, taking small apprehensive steps towards the man she once felt safe around enough to be vulnerable with, taking a seat on the edge of the table. Terry opened the binder, the contents of its folders and pages eliciting a sharp gasp from her. Pictures by the dozen, of people Mila had not only slept with, but also had interactions that she vaguely remembered with. Negative interactions being the common theme.

Her ex coworker, Sean, whom she had reported to HR for harassment when he wouldn't stop threatening to tamper with her work if she didn't go out with him. Last she had heard, he had resigned before committing-

Terry.

Her creepy tutor, Simon who tried to solicit her into giving him head for a good word with her professor regarding her latest assignment. Apparently he had left the University 2 weeks before being found dead in Centurion.

Also Terry.

That one aggressive Jehova's witness lady that had tried to accuse her and Indi of shoplifting at Dischem after Indi cursed her out for following them around the store. Mila never really expected to see her again to be fair. In fact she had forgotten all about her.

But Terry had killed her too.

Tons of people, dead from what seemed like mysterious or natural causes. Their biggest sin was being a random stranger that had upset Mila, no matter how minute the situation. He had all their pictures, personal details and reasons for their deaths documented. Also in the binder, we're pictures of Mila herself. Sleeping, eating, showering, reading, talking to her friends, at work, at school, with her family-

And for some sick reason, all of this was endearing to her. What should have scared the ever living crap out of Mila, and had her running to the nearest police station, actually relieved her.

Terry loved her. He didn't even have to say it. This was all the proof she needed that he hadn't just discarded her after everything. He really had been around the entire time, watching over her and trying to keep her happy.

She glanced up at him, a small smile forming as gratitude coated her features.

"Terry you actually did this? For me?"

Terry scooted closer to her, moving the binder to the side and cupping her face. "All for you sweetheart. All for you. You're everything to me, and I'll be damned if anyone fucks with what's mine," he whispered, fingers gently tracing up her back before reaching the nape of her neck. Gentleness was then thrown out of the window when he snatched at the roots of her braids, eliciting a surprised yelp, to push her face closer to his. His eyes had gone from green to hazel, the flecks in his irises darkening as his eyes took her in like she were but his prey.

“But don't think any of this means I forgot that you let some bum-ass niggas touch my shit,” he said darkly, making Mila bite back a moan at the sharp sting in her scalp and the dark promise behind his words. Her thong had already begun to dampen.

Feeling brave, she smirked. “Yeah? And what exactly are you gonna do about it Terrence?” she taunted. If the defiant question wasn't enough, she was certain that using his government name would definitely trigger him.

Terry let out a menacing chuckle accompanied by a slow no. His reaction to Mila's dare had her rubbing her thighs together (something she naively prayed he wouldn't see). His piercing gaze had already been enough to get her wet; at this point she was damn near a dripping faucet.

“First,” he began, punctuating the word with another yank at her roots. “You're gonna tell your little friend to either put on some noise canceling headphones and bump something on full blast, or put in some earplugs, or whatever the fuck else, because tonight I plan to have you screaming at the top of your fucking lungs until your little slut throat gives out,” he explained eerily calmly.

“Then, you're gonna go to your room, and you're gonna wait for me on your bed, in nothing but that little red thong you put on tonight, on all fours like the pretty, smart, and above all…” he trailed off as his lips claimed hers in a soft, but also raw and hungry kiss that took her breath away all the while gnawing at his self-control.

It was like a dance. Terry was the lead and every step he took, Mila followed in line. His tongue glided across her teeth, her jaw made way for entry. He nipped at her bottom lip, she let out a needy moan and slid her tongue over his. Every movement was in sync. An outsider would say rehearsed.

But Terry's resolve was waning. If he didn't pull away when he did, he would have taken her on the coffee table like a rabid animal. He still had a point to prove, and he planned to draw it out for as long as he could. Mila’s eyes remained half closed in a love drunk state, prompting Terry to pat her cheek firmly

“Like the obedient little slut I know you can be.”

Mila had never done a single hard drug in her life. The only high she had experienced was Terry induced, and if she was being honest, solely from what she had heard and read, it was all the same.

Hands planted into the gray satin sheet to support her trembling knees, her skin vibrated in anticipation as he stared at her from the doorway. The awe in his hazel eyes was seasoned with unfiltered lust. His ability to remain restrained for this long surprised Mila. 7 months ago he would've had her against the dresser, holding her immobile body up while he fucked her into another consciousness by now. But that was 7 months ago. Since then he had watched 5 too many people fail her. He had watched from a distance while they left with her that knot he could untie with one touch.

A slight tinge of resentment returned, and from the way Terry's eyes darkened even more than before, Mila knew he had sniffed out. She also knew that the next plan of action would be to snuff it out. As much as she owed him a plate of penitence for letting those lesser beings even breathe near what he held so sacred, he had prepared it with his absence.

At least they had paid for their crimes. It didn't matter that they were unaware of them.

“Fucking beautiful,” Terry mused. He began to walk towards Mila, his piercing gaze, and slow, purposeful steps growing that little knot in her belly.

He squatted at the foot of the bed, meeting her at eye level. “You wanna know what my favorite thing about you is?” he asked gently, completely contrasting his foreboding demeanor.

Mila, breath caught in her throat, nodded eliciting a disappointed sigh from Terry. His hand shot up to grab at her jaw. “What happened to all that mouth from downstairs huh? You ain't have nann issues acting bold and calling me by my government name,” he said condescendingly as he shook her face roughly.

Mila mentally face-palmed at her past self. If that dumb bitch just knew how to shut up.

The shaking stopped when the pads of his fingers dug into her skin, holding her jaw in place. “You know what? I'll just tell you when I get tweaking off this dick,” he promised with a wild grin.

Mila watched Terry undress: each bracelet unclipped, watch discarded, rings slipped off the fingers that would be knuckle deep inside her and around her throat soon, shirt tossed to the side and pants, socks and shoes left in a pool on the ground. Only one thing remained on his (extremely well endowed) body, and that was the usual silver chain he wore. He always left it on during sex because Mila had told him that she lived for how it hung over her face while he dug her guts out during missionary.

Having waited for what felt like an eternity, Mila watched Terry move around and felt the bed dip behind her as he settled in. His calloused hands ran over her thighs, feeling them as he was making sure this was real. Her breath hitched when they planted themselves sharply on the sides of her ass. Her back arched instinctively when his fingers split her cheeks open for a clearer view of her his moist pussy. The tip of his nose grazing her opening with a ghost of a touch as he inhaled her scent elicited a moan. If she hadn't already been internally shaking impatiently, his thumb rubbing light-almost nonexistent circles on her clit definitely brought her to the brink of begging territory.

Like an addict feigning for a hit while somebody else sets a line of coke onto a counter.

But he had barely touched her, and like he said earlier, she still had a long night ahead of her. So she inhaled deeply and bit her tongue while his fingers played her like dough.

“You'll forgive me baby, but tonight I wanna take my sweet time with you and this sweet little pussy. Need to make sure you both know that you're mine, and that you're always gonna be mine by the time I'm done. And fortunately or unfortunately depending on how much you can take, that might take us all night,” he said softly from behind her. Suddenly his fingers plunged into her entrance, curling against her inner walls making her cry out. He tsked as he added another finger, “Unfortunately it is then,” he sighed.

His fingers continued to curl and scissor, putting pressure on her inner wall, causing her to let out choked moans. His other hand toyed with her clit pushing her towards the tides of an early orgasm. Her mind spun as he reminded her of how well he knew her body. It had been too long since a familiar face had shown itself around these parts and that was evident in the way her stomach and pussy had begun to clench. Her knees vibrated in a slight tremble, telling her that if she took any more she'd find herself flat on the bed in a muddy pile.

“Fuck, baby I knew you missed me but I ain't know it was this bad,” Terry chuckled having felt and read the warning signs of Mila’s pending crash.

“Yeah bab-fuck! Missed you so fucking much,” Mila moaned, the pleasure making her confident enough to speak again.

Before she could sputter out her need to cum, Terry beat her to the cut. “Give it to me sweetheart. Make a mess on my fingers for me,” he said, coaxing her into an orgasm with one last curl.

Mila’s knees parted slightly as she sat up. The hand that Terry had previously used to play with her clit, held her up by the small of her back while he readjusted his body and wrist. Comfortable, she began to ride her orgasm out on his fingers, head thrown back in delirium, albeit minimal at the moment. Terry left a trail of wet kisses from the back of her ear down to her shoulder blade as she finally came down.

“D’you like that,” he whispered in her ear.

“Mhmm,” she hummed with a slow head. Her eyes were lidded, head growing heavier from the intoxicating orgasm and growing arousal.

“Good, good. Because there is plenty more where that came from,” he promised as he slowly removed his fingers that were now coated in her essence. He brought them up to her lip, brushing his fingers against them as if asking for entry. Her lips parted, making way for him to drag his fingers across her tongue while she sucked the contents off nearly clean.

“My beautiful little princess,” he cooed as he felt her tongue clean his fingers off before removing them from her mouth.

Mila felt his body shift as he maneuvered his way off the bed, once again standing at its food. Through her eyelashes she could see him eyeing her, taking her body in while he fought the unholy thoughts that threatened to throw all his restraint away. Her dark skin remained iridescent under the dim lights, every curve and their sister line, stretching as she laid back completely and parted her legs for him to see his handy work.

A cunt seeping of pleasure and begging for more.

Terry licked his lips and shook his head in appreciation. “I don't think I'll ever stop gushing about how beautiful you are sweetheart,” he whispered as his hands roughly yanked her ankles and dragged her body closer to him. His hands then ran up and down her calves while he watched her face strain with excitement and wanton.

“My gorgeous, needy little slut. So needy that she just had to get her fix elsewhere. Pathetic, unworthy, bitch ass niggas coming in here and barely scratching the surface of what makes her snap and come undone. And thank God for audio cameras, because I could hear the fake moans too. That shit drove me over the edge, had me wanting to bust in and show them how it's really done. Have you creaming, shaking and drooling, high off the pure shit,” he said as he kissed up and down her inner thighs.

“Made me wanna end their shit right there and then so you knew what would happen if you kept letting these niggas fuck with you. Oh, I bet you'd have liked that huh? Watching me catch bodies for this shit? That shit alone probably would have made you cum, my crazy, beautiful little slut,” he chuckled, deep voice vibrating against the skin right next to her pussy making her moan.

While. Mila never cared to say it out loud, he was right. Terry's possessive streak was one of her favorite things about him. Especially coupled with the knowledge of the threat he posed to the general population. The idea that a man who was strong enough to snap someone's neck in a split second, was willing to go so above and beyond for her, cared for and coveted her, made her feel safer than any of her dad's extra security measures. And now with the information that he had gone as far as killing people for merely breathing wrong in her direction…the mere thought of it added to the arousal pooling between her legs.

Terry kneeled before her, his laser-focused eyes never once breaking away from her half-opened ones. The first press of his lips against her sent a shiver through her system. Her mind reeled at the light swipes of his tongue across her clit. It had been too long, and she was already on a trip so the increasing pressure coupled with his digits drawing her soul out of body with the traces on the backs of her thighs only sent her into a higher orbit. A light graze of his teeth against her bud drew a sharp gasp from her. Her hands flew to tug at his curls which had grown longer than the last time she had seen him.

“Fuck, Terry don't stop,” she begged, her voice ragged from her heavy breaths, her back arching slightly from the bed. Never one to turn down his precious Mila's wishes, Terry unrelented, feasting on her like a man possessed and employing his hands to keep her pinned to the bed.

Sinful pleas for more sprinkled with the occasional famished grunt filled the room. The air was thick with sex and Mila found herself chasing her breath and another hit all at once as Terry quelled any past doubts she'd had of his desire for her. The tremble in her legs had grown more violent at Terry's onslaught. It was like speeding up the highway to heaven, the way her mind fogged up with every swipe of his tongue. Her breaths grew shorter as her desperate mewls and pleas grew louder.

“Baby I-I need to…fuck, I'm about to-” she sputtered, struggling to form a coherent sentence over the mind numbing spell he had breathed into her pussy.

Refusing to separate from his meal, Terry simply nodded for her to let go and give in to the crashing wave of pleasure. Her body's fluent understanding of him registered the silent beckoning and with that she found herself light headed as she floated into her second orgasm of the night. Terry remained attached to her mound, lapping and sucking the fruits of his labour. He had yet to be satiated, his hunger driving her into another, and another, and yet another head splitting orgasm, despite her loud cries for mercy.

By the time Terry deemed himself fulfilled, Mila's mind had numbed. She felt separated from herself, like her soul had merged into the atoms around her. Nothing but dazed pleasure behind her usually cynical yet curious chocolate colored eyes. Terry's touch sent shocks through her has his climbed onto the bed over her. Although barely present, his hands on her now hypersensitive skin and that damn chain over her face grounded whatever was left of her. He pressed his lips onto hers, the kiss desperate and needing. On autopilot, her lips moved in sync to his, giving into his every whim. Her soft groans as he nipped and licked her lips spurred him on, sending him into what felt like a drunken haze; a sudden extra spike in his need for her.

The kisses traveled down her jaw, where he gently sucked at her skin before trailing down. His head buried into the crook of her neck, the pressure of his lips and tongue on her skin increasing as he left dark patches all over her for all to see.

Feeling like Mila's body was beginning to consume him, Terry raised his head to admire the absolute work of art that laid before him. The miniscule conscious part of her found herself drowning in Terry's lovingly hungry gaze. His features were focused as his index and middle fingers worked her sensitive nipples, kneading and twisting at them to melt Mila into a pile of nothing.

“Damn, my little slut’s already greened out huh? I ain't even give you the main yet and you're already full. Can't think, can't speak, nothing,” he commented with a light chuckle. “I can't lie, I almost feel bad. After all this is all my fault. But I'd actually be lying if I said I didn't like how you look right now. Completely and utterly undone, and I ain't even stick the tip in yet.” The lightness in his tone was deceptive. This man's intentions with her were anything but. Mila’s undone state aside there was still a point to be made. “Now I'm gonna you remind you of how it's supposed to feel to have someone take care of you,” he growled in her ear, his fingers tightening around her nipples, eliciting an incoherent curse from her.

He moved to line himself up at her entrance, gently tapping her with his thick tip. He gently pushed into her, the pressure pulling her body up in a light arch while it drew the unholiest cry to leave her lips. Terry inhaled deeply, the feel of her tight walls around him slightly intoxicating. Driving him to do something unusual for them: bottoming out. She had always said she felt he would be too big to have all of him inside of her, but tonight was different. Clearly he needed to remind her exactly who this pussy belonged to, and what better way than to go all the way and ruin her even further.

“Ah-fuck baby. Too much-” she managed to cry out.

But her words fell on uncaring ears as Terry flashed his signature, sinister grin before pulling out slightly and slamming right back into her, staying there for a moment. She erupted into what sounded like a moan blended with a tortured cry, back once again arching from the bed. Her hands desperately reached for his hips as if trying to push him away, only for him to grab them and pin them above her head and hover over her.

“Feel that baby?” he asked as his hips twisted against hers, drawing a choked groan. “Yeah, that's me digging you out. Tonight you're gonna be an exceptional little slut, and you're gonna take it all; I don't care if it's too much or if you feel it in your chest or whatever the fuck excuses you've got loading in that pretty little lump of mush you used to call a brain, I'm giving you all of me, and you're gonna take it,” he growled menacingly before he once again pulled out and snapped his hips against hers, driving himself fully into her.

As Terry continued his unforgiving pace, pressure, and tempo, Mila's cries grew louder and increasingly incoherent. Her previously slurred cries for mercy turned to a symphony of sweet nothing that was punctuated by the brutal force of his hips and low hung balls slapping against her body. His dick pounded in and out of her, arranging and rearranging her insides. Every sense of coherence had been fucked out of her with every brutal stroke.

“Whose fucking pussy is this?” he growled, gently kissing her jaw as he continued to fuck her like he hated her.

Mila, however, was too far gone to form a cohesive thought let alone a sentence. Unsatisfied with her incoherent babble, Terry his hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed hard enough to blur her vision. “I know you're too cock-drunk to think right now baby, but I need you to answer me when I ask you a question. I know my polite little princess is still in there somewhere,” he said softly as he purposefully constricted her breathing before letting go for an answer.

“It's-it's…yours, baby. All yours,” she choked out between gasps for her air and lustful moans to Terry's satisfaction. He rewarded her with an even more unforgiving stroke, which she swore drove her soul out from her body, before returning to his original pace.

Fists wrapped around the ruined satin sheets, Mila found herself nearing her third orgasm of the night. Her vision had begun to blur and her legs had begun to numb.

“Terry, I-”

“Go ahead sweetheart,” he grunted, not faltering even once.

Once again Mila found herself washed under an abyss of pleasure and nothingness. Her head spun as a sinful cry tore from her lips, her pussy clenching around Terry making him close his eyes and growl before regaining his composure.

Terry's pace slowed as she came down, allowing her a brief moment to stew in her third wind. Her erratic breathing grew calmer and calmer as her loud moans quietened into whimpers. Terry peppered a few more wet kisses across her chest, up her neck and to her ear.

“God I missed this shit. I missed fucking this pussy numb. I missed hearing you scream when I'm inside you. I missed the way you look when you're drunk on this dick. Kinda like right now, my sweet, beautiful, dick-dumb princess,” he said as he continued to kiss all over her, soft strokes lulling her into a false sense of security.

“...missed you too baby,” she muttered, barely above a whisper while she tried to collect herself.

Mila felt Terry pull out, assuming they had reached the aftercare segment of their little show. She hummed as he gently began to massage her left calf, relieving it of any tension while kissing it softly.

“You know, you've been such a good girl for me tonight; being obedient and taking me so well like the sweet little slut I know you are. Made me think about ending it here, running you a bath and making something nice for you and your friend before you fall asleep,” he said as he put her calf over his shoulder, repeating his actions with the right one.

“I mean just by looking into your eyes, I can tell there's nothing left in there. You look like you'd pass out if I gave you anymore,” he pointed out, making Mila nod in agreement. Honestly, she could use a hot bath and a good meal. As much as it was only the first round, it was also the third orgasm and it had been brutal. All of that for the first time in 7 months had taken her out pretty early.

“But then I thought, ‘nah, fuck that’.”

His words made her eyes snap open as he gently placed the next calf over his shoulder. He began to lean in, effectively folding her body in half. “We've both waited too damn long for this shit. You cried for this, I killed for it. And I don't know about you, but I feel it would be a waste if all of that was just for you to tap out after one round,” he said, his tone darkening with promise in the last sentence.

Without warning, he pushed into her, fully driving his huge dick back into the depths of her guts. The pained yet lustful cry that tore from her throat made him chuckle darkly.

“I did tell you this was gonna be a long fucking night for you.”

[vamptarot]

Ten Things That Are F### Cool About You | PAC

pile one pile two pile three

how to choose a pile . . . choose which picture you are most drawn to or close your eyes, breath and read the one your eyes land on! ᡣ𐭩

— ⭑.ᐟ today I saw a pick a card that not only pissed me off but also disgusted me due to how mean the reader was in every single pile. I checked. their egoistic approach annoyed me. instead of spreading hate, I wanted to remind you why you are an awesome person. not proof read.

pile one : - cold drink !

𐙚 : the high priestess, eight of wands, nine of wands reversed, death

bottom of the deck: five of wands

♡ ⢷ why you are so cool

1. You always research about a topic before talking about it! I think this is very cool because a lot of people spread misinformation without even knowing it and that’s why fake fun facts exist. You are not like that though! You feel a sense of responsibility and thirst for knowledge, which in itself makes you a reliable person. - and source! -

2. You protect those who cannot stand up for themselves and I think that is very cool! Usually, you might have a hard time standing up for yourself but if it’s someone more vulnerable than you then you will give your all. You will raise your voice, yell, make valid arguments and even fight if necessary. - This differs person to person but the imaginary I am getting is protecting children, animals, women and young teens (from creeps to be exact) -

3. You work on yourself and enter new beginnings even if it’s scary at times, it can be hard and scary but that doesn’t make you back off from actually trying your best to become someone that you can be proud of. There is always a sense of hope within you that is very admirable.

4. You know how to keep privacy! A lot of people don’t, and don’t value it as much as they should. Having a healthy boundary with privacy is a privilege not many realise they have.. also, if you happen to share an intimate moment with someone you don’t run your mouth but rather treasure it as a memory as a form of respect.

5. Some people in this pile have temper issues, obviously, don’t take it if that doesn’t apply to you but I am seeing that for those of you who can resonate with that you are doing a really good job keeping it under control. You are not a hot headed person.

6. You are very experimental with looks! I do think this makes you a very beautiful person, because there are several things that suit you and look cool on you. If you like taking pictures I hope you know that you look beautiful and gorgeous in each one of them, one day you will look back at them with a smile even if you didn’t like that one thing because at least you gave it a try.

7. Zero judgment detected in your soul. Seriously, you could be the sort of person that never freaks out at people’s ‘hear me out’s but rather just go ‘yep, I get why you are into that’ even though you have no attraction to whatever character or person they said. You get their point, it’s just not one that you will make.

8. My fashion babies in this pile are slaying each and every time! You could take dressing fashionable in a seasonal manner mildly seriously. You don’t expect everyone to do it, but it’s most definitely something you take a lot of joy in. It’s really cool, your style is a 10/10. - Yes, even if you change it up often. -

9. Even if you are anxious you can do things so incredibly well. You remind me of a video I once saw of a girl with anxiety making a phone call, her hands were shaking uncontrollably the whole time but she didn’t stop being polite and kind. I think that’s you. Even in moments of being scared, you are kind to people.

10. You have such a beautiful voice. I mean your singing voice, but if you are not confident in that this could of course mean your regular speaking voice too. There is something comforting and yet bittersweet about your voice. It makes people feel home at times when they are sad.

— ✮⋆˙ die with a smile - bruno mars & lady gaga , ‘good luck babe’, 2003 , enha photoshoots , guitar injuries (from the string breaking) , white dahlias , glitter videos (those 2021 ones) , ‘good luck, charlie!’ , wavy hair , not well known ethnicity , taurus , capricorn , pisces

that’s all my beautiful pile one! I do think you happen to be very shy, but I do hope that you know that you genuinely have so much love to offer. there is much more to you than what you show the world, but I think you already know that. thank you for reading

paid readings

pile two : - peace sign ! ✌🏻

𐙚 : page of pentacles, eight of swords reversed, queen of wands, five of pentacles reversed, page of cups reversed, the star reversed

bottom of the deck: judgement

♡ ⢷ why you are so cool

1. YOU THINK YOU ARE SO COOL AND MYSTERIOUS BUT YOUR HEART IS FULL OF LOVE AND KINDNESS 🫵🏻 YOU TREASURE YOUR LOVED ONES AND WOULD RATHER SACRIFICE YOURSELF THAN TO EVER SEE THEM SUFFER !!YOU ARE SENSITIVE AND LOVABLE !!!!!!!!!

2. After all that you have went through you are still here and you are still standing. All that happened but rather than it destroying you completely or bringing you down you allowed yourself to heal and I am very proud of you for that.

3. Your judgement of people are very great! Of course if you don’t like someone of have mean thoughts of them you will keep it to yourself in order to not upset anyone, but you are still really good at telling their personality by their behaviour. Other people might not know but you do.

4. You are a secret little romantic! I bet it makes you shy to express your emotions outward and so freely. Truth to be told, you want to experience so much romantic things and wish to think of them without experiencing negative emotions. This makes you cool because even though you have a hard time with it, you know it’s a part of you and accept it.

5. You are so kind to animals, take care of them and most people reading this pile have a pet too. I think animals are just naturally drawn to you regardless of what they are. - as in pet, stray or wild animal. - It’s like they know they can be safe with you.

6. ‘You can slap a bitch if you need to’. Literally, that’s what I heard.. and I think most people here take pride in it too right? Just make sure to not get into unnecessary fights. It’s not what makes you cool though. It’s that you keep to your word. If you say you are gonna do it, you really will.

7. A lot of you find comfort in the stars and moon. In an aesthetic sense, but also there is a deep sense of appreciation for them that not many people have. They just put you in awe. If you are into astrology you have such a deep and profound understanding of it. One that not many people have.

8. Honestly, your view of life is sort of clouded and not completely “whole” but that’s alright. Exactly because day by day you do your best to learn and never turn an opportunity to see life from a wider perspective down, even if you might have done this in the past.

9. You are sooo talented, and you don’t even realise that. You are amazing in creating things; anything that is physical. This is especially true if you like jewellery, as I think designing or just making your own craft is something that you would/could enjoy doing if you put your own unique twist into it. It’s just something that makes you feel alive.

10. You are so confident! Even if you might not always feel like it, on the outside you always appear confident and aware of your surroundings. Someone composed who wants to present themselves in the best way possible. - You probably pay a lot of attention to your posture. -

— ✮⋆˙ ‘I don’t even wanna do this anymore’ , homework from 1 am ‘til 4am , 9 to 5 , jean purses ? , ditto - new jeans , a bent photocard (of whoever) , 7 - JK , stars , something about the four seasons ? , fave colour = red , ‘letta’ , cappuccino & frappuchino , friendly banter , 111 , 1212 , 2011 , sagittarius , aries , leo

i am sorry for yelling at you at the first point my pile 2 but some younger people in this pile - esp teenagers - like to put on a mean girl persona when that’s not them at all. what’s the point of that? you can’t please people with someone you are not. I sincerely wish that’s something you will remember my sweethearts. thank you for reading

paid readings

pile three : - megaphone !

𐙚 : three of wands, six of swords, knight of pentacles, justice, king of swords, the lovers

bottom of the deck: five of pentacles reversed

♡ ⢷ why you are so cool

1. You know when to walk away from a situation, which is unironically awesome. Like sure this could be considered a negative trait but you aren’t toxic with it. You just simply know your worth.

2. You have a person you are in love with for several years now right? At least, most people in this pile do. You have unwavering loyalty and love in your heart that no one can take away from you, no matter what. I think that’s very cool.

3. You treat children really well! Which should be a given, but many people are way more mean and cruel hearted than what children should deserve. After all, they are humans too and fragile ones at that. You are very responsible and a safe space for them. I wholeheartedly believe that’s cool.

4. When you call people out, you do so with evidence. I do like that a lot, you don’t just accuse people but rather keep collected and calm even if you are angry or despise the situation that you were put into.

5. Did you ever take a look at your side profile? You are quite ethereal, you have such an unique beauty to you. I do also believe that you look beautiful in your home country’s traditional clothing style:

6. You are stubborn, but not in a sense of annoying people or being selfishly caught up in your desires. This is a stubbornness that is found in people with leader like qualities, that people can rely on. You are stubborn in a sense of wanting to create a better future for yourself and those around you who you deem to deserve it. - bc let’s face it, some humans suck. -

7. I am sorry if this sounds weird, but your hand is always occupied with something. You are a very busy person, even if you might not believe so. You gotta do this, and you gotta do that. You have many interests, hobbies and responsibilities too. Yet you manage to juggle them so well, it’s hard to guess when you are stressed out.

8. Whenever you are around you light up people’s day and mood. You are such a sunshine child, people love to have you around. Even if you believe that’s not the case, people do appreciate you a lot more than you realise.

9. If you have a love for photography I hope that you know that you have a beautiful talent. You are amazing at taking pictures, making them pretty and seeing the beauty in every single little thing even if other people might not be able to do so.

10. You are really good with finances and saving up despite the anxiety it causes you. Give yourself a pat on the back because that is not something many people are able to truly say about themselves. Many people in this pile were raised in a way to appreciate money but not let it consume you, which I think you nailed pretty good!

— ✮⋆˙ somewhere over the rainbow - israel kamakawiwo’ole , early 00s & 10s hawaii , crying at night , daydreaming for hours , ‘thank goodness ‘ , my little pony , new hyper fixation , heat , ten to five , hair being washed by someone else , flamingos , pimples ? , papaya - sorry, ik gross to mention right after , pink skincare bottles , 555 , juliet , lucifer , 10th house

my dearest little lamb your energy was the calmest, sweetest and most welcoming out of all the piles. I am truly happy that you decided to read my pac / participate in it. it was truly a pleasant experience to channel for you 🫶🏻 thank you for reading

paid readings

[lubrumalis]

ghost character analysis

tw: spoilers from ghost mw2 comics, nsfw, dead dove do not eat, mature content.

this is pretty much a part 2 to ghost headcanons except with more lore and analysis (im still not sure if reboot ghost has the same backstory as the og ghost).

ghost is not a cold, calculated, ruthless man. maybe in a separate au or something, but theres a huge difference between ghost and simon riley. in fact, we need to understand that the reason he even chose ghost as a new name for himself is because of all that's happened to him. his family got killed, he got tortured by roba, and had to eliminate many men on his own. before that he was simon, not ghost. in the comic he literally calls the child hostages he was saving ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’. hes not that mean and cold yall

we know that PTSD does shit to it's victims, ghost lost his entire family and had no one. think of it as a coping mechanism to have a new name to be known as.

ghost is a ruthless killer. simon is just some guy.

ghost sets himself to an incredibly high standard of discipline. i think it's intuitive that military boys will need to be punctual and organized to some degree, but ghost takes this to a whole other level. considering his father's abusive behavior (explained by his disturbing statements said to simon, is a drug addict, and beats simons mom) his home life was likely chaotic as a child.

in the mw2: ghost comic (issue #3) it specifically stated the following: "discipline, precision, control. these are what riley built his whole life on. break those down and the dark stuff begins to ooze out..." again, this is probably a form of trauma response to his childhood.

so what does this lead to? well firstly, this probably means his room is incredibly tidy and organized (monotone design i know :,c).

would never in his life touch drugs. this is a promise he made to himself.

also kinda proves that ghost aint a reckless guy. he thinks things through before doing it.

ghost isn’t that hypersexual. theres no way of knowing his history with women, but i like to think ghost is not that horny 24/7 and needs a fuckbuddy. in the mw2 comic, he was on a mission and was in an area full of prostitutes (wasn’t actively on duty, but on his way) when they tried to hit on him he politely rejects one of them, and later tells them to fuck off😀 so yea contrary to popular belief i dont think he really enjoys one night stands or the idea of being entertained by random women. in fact, i hc he might actually be a virgin or just have a really low body count.

ghost is a feminist!😁 (misandrist too). ok let me reword that, ghost doesnt like men and respects women. one of the reasons why he doesn’t want to be around prostitutes and do one night stands (his father killed a hooker in front of him, very traumatic) is because he thinks the concept of quick, casual sex is not good for society and dilutes the value of meaningful relationships. but also, remember the discipline, precision, control thing? its apart of his principle. but also, in the comic, sparks (soldier he worked with) knocked out and attempted to rape a woman, ghosts literally looked disgusted and called the police (also why he’d never do that himself, i dont get the hcs that say he does). ghosts seen how his dad treated his mom and absolutely hates abusers. anyways onto misandry—i think ghost internally thinks men are violent and disgusting (ghosts would choose the bear over the man, even though hes a man) mainly because throughout his military career majority of the bad stuff hes seen was done by men, so hes much more relaxed in a room of women vs man. ghost thinks his dad is the epitome of pure evil (canon! he said this to his therapist). this doesn’t mean hes scared or hates all men tho!

ghost isn’t close with tf141… including soap. now before you attack me let me explain. sure, he trusts them to some degree, but i dont think they naturally just hangout when they’re not deployed. in the end we need to understand they are SAS soldiers, they are working a real job that mainly consists of them shooting and dismantling others. considering ghosts betrayal in the past (in the comic, a few soldiers ghost previously worked with killed his entire family 😢) he isn’t gonna just trust his teammates because theyre his teammates. im also pretty sure they all live in different cities while not deployed. tf141 probably all want to separate their job from their personal lives, which includes each other. but onto soap, i dont think him and ghost have a deep brotherly relationship. but i think they care about each other, but exchanging some dad jokes and bantering doesn’t mean they’re suddenly soulmates or brothers. think about it… you and you’re co worker joke around sometimes, never hangout outside of work, and now people are shipping you and calling the two of you besties. makes no sense.

ghost is extremely patriotic. in the comic (i reference this way too much but theres SOOO MUCH LORE i recommend reading it) ghost tells his teammates the reason for joining the military: queen and country, right after 9/11. he also said “the world has changed”. interestingly enough army enlistment did actually skyrocketed after 9/11 attacks, ghost was among them. he probably thought ww3 was about to happen, or that ‘theres no more peace’ or whatever. i hc being obsessed with soccer too lmao and getting mad if english teams dont win. also his playful banter with johnny “get us a tea?”. probably very proud of his british heritage.

ghost doesn’t have much friends. hes a really, reallyyyyy lonely guy. i hc him as an introvert in the first place, but trust issues make this worse. in the comic, he was literally in the newspaper for killing his family and then killing himself (he didnt, he was framed that way tho) so its likely most of his formers friends probably think hes dead. ghost likely got some sort of amnesty or exemption from the military after knowing he didn’t actually kill his family, but whats in the news stays true to the public. even if he does have friends he probably doesn’t share feelings with them or form a long term bond.

ghost is extremely cynical. this is obvious tbh, but i think ghost believes hes going to die in the middle of a battlefield, shot or stabbed, a painful death, body left to rot for weeks, and no one to remember him. just like that. and he accepts that fact too.

ghost isn’t a picky eater. growing up in an abusive household where his parents couldn’t hold a stable job, he had to eat what there was. some days he settles for cheap beans and toast and when people call him out for it, he tells em to fuck off😀

ghost is emotionally fucked up, probably kind of depressed. i mean this guys been through hell: got sa’d, buried alive, had to dig through underground dirt and worms with a jawbone, tortured in horrible ways, had his entire family killed, abusive dad, and the weight of his grey morales because he killed lots of people as a soldier. wow! would you look at that list, itd be more strange if he wasn’t emotionally fucked up after was has happened😅. even when tortured, seeing his family dead, ghost was never shown to have cried in the comic. i hc hes emotionally numb. however, i do think hes emotionally MATURE and able to communicate his emotions, but hes still emotionally fucked. for example a scene where he was talking about his experience with roba (guy who tortured ghost) and ghosts father to a therapist. i think ghosts may be traumatized, but this doesn’t stop him from attempting to get help and communicating how he feels and thinks about this world.

ghost wears a mask... not because hes insecure and traumatized it's to separate ghost from simon riley. first of all he learned the consequences of revealing your identity during deployment, in the comic, he reveals his face in missions before his family got killed. i think he wears a mask because 1) its practical, no one knows who he is, 2) an analogy for himself to remind him simon riley, his original identity, was dead the moment his family was murdered, this SAS soldier with a skull mask is GHOST (yes this is canon, ghost references in the comic!).

in issue #1 while some kids were being held hostage, he starts telling his life story to them to calm them down/distract them from the bad situation. this is his explanation to why he wears a skull mask, word by word: "I bet you're wondering why I wear these bones on my face. It's a tribute to an old friend of mine. He's dead now, but man if he wasn't the baddest motherfucker on the planet."

in issue #6, when ghost was trekking through a jungle in the middle of nowhere attempting to kill roba (a drug lord that started this all, brainwashed soldiers to kill ghosts family), he was never caught. ghost himself, the narrator, says that "even for a single man to get through the jungle, the patrols, the wall, the security... well that man would have to be a ghost."

however, im still a little confused whether or not reboot ghost and 2009 have the same backstories. reboot ghosts mask is more realistic and his look is much more intimidating, his reason for wearing that kind of mask is probably psychological warfare (getting milena the financier to speak up about makarov). i think 2009 ghosts reason to wearing a mask is more personal compared to reboot.

BUT WHAT ABOUT AN S/O???

i think ghost is the guy to not have one in the first place. obviously. but i lowkey think if he had one and really liked them, he would commit. in fact i find it hard to imagine hes a player or isn’t serious about relationships. when his brother tommy got addicted to drugs and fucked up his life, simon quit the military until tommy got 100% better and married. yup. he stayed to help him recover, for years. thats how loving and committed this man is🥹🥹.

ghost would not cheat on his s/o. i can't stress how important this hc is, because it's so out of character for him to do so. sure, guys in the military statistically have higher divorce rates, incidences of infidelity, and much more red flag stuff, but knowing what happened to him, he would never do that. doesn't matter how stressed, lonely, sexually frustrated this man is; he would not cheat on his partner. this guy has been through far more stressful situations and got through it, you think hes gonna cheat because hes stressed because of work?

its not sunshine and rainbows or absolute toxicity being with him. it's not really a mix of both either. ghost isn't that princess treatment, super squishy and cuddly, sweet guy who likes fluffy stuff. he definitely isn't the toxic guy who leaves you with mixed signals either.

hes quite the gentleman when it comes to approaching relationships, hes seen how his dad treated his mom, and ghost wants to do the exact opposite. i believe ghost likes to use the traditional courting methods when dating someone: gifting flowers, paying for dates, holding the door open (ladies first typa guy!!), the old fashioned stuff. idk if i should point it out again but this guy DOES NOT FW modern dating practices, he wouldn't download dating apps, or start 'talking stages'. i dont think he would write love letters just because hes not very good at writing poetry or expressing his feelings in the first place.

theres still downsides to being with him. the long distance, the time being apart (months and months). but i dont think he'd go as far as being emotionally avoidant.

also something really random ive noticed is that 2009 and reboot ghost are very different, personality wise. i like to think that 2009 ghost represents simon riley much better, but the reboot ghost actually gives the essence and character of what a 'ghost' in the military is.

more random headcanons:

simon prefers dogs over cats because dogs are loyal and stay with you until the end (stereotypically)

hates snakes and spiders

probably wouldn’t do 50/50 on dates, he pays!

avoids saying manchester slang when deployed

drinks and smokes. not always. he’s disciplined but he still does that stuff.. hes a british guy in his 30s whos kinda depressed, grew up with adults around him smoking 24/7, whatd you think😀😀 (its canon that most of tf141 smoke anyway)

listens to 80’s rock music. its canon that his mom enjoys the band siouxsie and the banshees :)), he probs does too

shaves his beard

is actually confident hes not bad looking. dude, hes 6’2, in shape with a jawline🙄

i don't enjoy hcs of ghost being the scariest out of tf141 (appearance wise yes). but soap seems much more scary imo, he was the youngest guy to pass SAS selections in the history of the UK military, and was nicknamed soap because of fast and good he is at cleaning up 'messes' (basically killing people).

id arguably say ghost is the most compassionate out of 141, if we're talking about the OG 2009 one.

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy

a yandere art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU...

CHAPTER MAP-> part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16

I.

-You’re a favorite amongst the studio art students at the university where you model. Not because of your looks, but because of your exceptional ability at sitting still. When you retreat inside your mind and you’re sitting in a position that doesn’t have any pinch points, you can go a solid hour without moving a muscle. 

-Maybe it helps, that you were once an art student too. You’ve studied the classical positions immortalized by the greats. The drama of the Renaissance martyrs to the quiet repose of the Impressionists to the silent anguish of the Pre Raphaelites. You do a damn good Odalisque, if you don’t say so yourself.

-You’ve been doing this for a while, and you’re pretty comfortable with it. That is, until you walk into the first day of Figure Drawing 101 to find the most handsome man you’ve ever seen behind the desk–decidedly not the usual portly, gray-haired, female professor who hired you years ago. He is tall, and dark, with soulful black eyes that make your lady parts ache. It’s incredibly embarrassing when your mitt veritably disappears in his in a cordial handshake (good lord, what poetic, long-fingered hands!) and you almost forget your own name. 

-He is incredibly gracious about your impression of a goldfish at feeding time. Undoubtedly, he’s used to this effect he has on women. Deep down, he must be laughing at you, and this more than anything helps you get a grip as you disappear into your little supply closet to change. 

-You emerge in your pretty paisley-print robe that sweeps the floor, and you realize you haven’t been nervous about taking off your clothes in class since your very first day on this job. Your palms are actually sweating, as you perch on the model stand with your legs crossed, watching him out the corner of your eye. He is stupidly dapper, in a dark tweed suit and tie. His hair swings down into his eyes as he reads something on his desk, and you’re not proud of what you would give for the privilege to run your fingers through that fluffy dark hair. 

-Thoroughly disgusted with yourself, you’re grateful when it’s time for class to begin. You’re surrounded by young adults who are [mostly] eager to learn with charcoal in hand. All eyes are on you, but its Professor Wick’s eyes you feel like a weight on your skin when the robe slides from your shoulders. You are so glad you can blame the air conditioning for your state of…attention. 

-You start with quick warm ups, then some five minute studies, and finally an extended pose with small breaks in between. When the kids take a break in the middle of the three hour period you slide back on your robe and make a round of the room, perusing the sketches. You can already tell who will be at the top of the class, but also who has potential for improvement if they work hard and practice. And some…better be good at math, because art is not their thing.

You do not hear him behind you, until he speaks. “I'm not sure how your clavicle could be at that angle…unless it was broken in two places.” You cover your smile with your hand as you glance back over your shoulder at him, a hot blush spreading like wildfire up your neck for some ridiculous reason. 

Mere proximity, you fear.

“Maybe their professor will set them straight.”

He chuckles with a charming self-deprecation that you find painfully endearing, scrubbing the back of his neck. 

“I like to see where everyone stands on the first day. I promise that lessons in anatomy will be forthcoming.” He only meets your eyes for a bare second as he tells you this, but you are astonished you do not spontaneously combust.

TBC...

___

pinterest board/photo credits

[plaguespacebird]

☁︎ Working with your co-star Jenna leads to the most beautiful night of your life...

(smutish)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵

As exciting as filming had been, you couldn't deny how happy you were to finally reach the last couple months. Everything about the production was incredible, especially the part were you work with your celebrity crush. Jenna was every bit the radiant person you had fallen for. Part of you had hoped you'd get over it upon meeting her but it was the exact opposite. You couldn't get enough of her.

For better or for worse, you two had ended up in similar leading roles and this film sparked a lot of buzz. Magazines propping up fake rivalries and twitter in its overzealous nature, had flown with the accusations with every possible take until it had made it's way back home. Now you two were instructed to play good friends and stick close to each other.

Pretending like you weren't the least bit concern over the direction this had taken should've won you an Oscar. You went straight back to your trailer that day and beamed like flower seeing the sun after a long, treacherous night. Actually, that was the perfect analogy; Jenna is the sun and you are a flower who desperately needs her far more than what she'll ever know.

You walked the halls of the studio, filming had just finished for you today and your co-star, Evelyn, had kept you company.

"So then, I freaked out, that roach was so huge- I like- ugh," Her face contoured with a series of disgusted and exasperated faces, as her hands flew in pointless directions. You laugh at her plight, bringing a hand on her shoulder, you stop.

"Seriously! It was so embarrassing, I totally thought I bombed the audition. Hey! Stop laughing!"

Evelyn pokes your side, sparking a jolt down your body. You pause, hands instinctively in defense mode. "Okay, okay, my bad!"

She eyes you playfully, having caught on to your little secret but before she can continue, a voice snaps both your attention's away.

"Hey,"

The angelic calling of your very sun reaches your ears, you feel your heart pick up in natural response. If you really were a flower, you imagine this is where you'd start photosynthesizing, greedily soaking up every sun beam you possibly could.

"Hey, what's up?"

A knowing smile graces Evelyn's face, the change in your voice was so obvious to her. She briefly wonders if you knew your inflection was so telling when Jenna was around.

"Oh, I forgot I left my lip gloss back there. See you tonight!"

And like that, Evelyn leaves. You would've pondered about her seemingly clear lie but when Jenna was around, all gears shifted to her. She had her regular clothes on, a blue long sleeve with ribbed details and a pair of jeans. She looked so lovely, so perfect, and her hair was so-

Jenna's eyes follow Evelyn's retreating form, before looking back at you. "Are you two dating?"

Like a splash of cold water after waking up, your sun halts all thoughts. You blink, rising your eyebrows, "No, we really are just friends."

However small of a question that might have been for her, she unknowingly just lit the entire house of your delusions on fire.

'Why do you care? Are you interested? I am. I swear I'm available. Why did I answer like that? Did I give myself away? Should've just said I like you at that point.'

There it was, like a dash in a racing game, your heart catapulted threatening to leave your body entirely.

She hums, eyeing you down like she could see if you were lying. Maybe she could see all the inappropriate thoughts you had about her or all the daydreams of holding her as a lover would. She might even stumble upon the library of paintings and poems you had made for her. Or maybe she caught on to the idiot mess she could make you. Either way, you hoped you didn't look anywhere near as panicked as you were. Crap, did you wait to long to say something?

She shrugs, "I'm just making sure you don't forget to arrive at 7 and not 8. They want cast photos before actually going to the invite."

You nod. Of course you knew, it was stressed out all week. And even though it had been 8 months since filming and being around Jenna, you still planned at least three outfits before picking one. You were not above changing or overthinking clothes in hopes she would like you. Was that bad?

"Right, of course 7pm it is. You bringing someone?"

You froze. Where did that confidence come from? The thumping in your chest now being the only thing you could feel, hear, and swore you could see.

She smiles, raising an eyebrow.

Where you seeing things? Granted, your vision was clouded in the softest shade of pink that perfectly highlighted every feature of her existence but...

"Maybe, I don't know yet. You?"

You shake your head, returning her smile, still trying to compose yourself.

She hums again, you love her sounds, her words, her face, everything actually.

"We'll have to do interviews right after the photo-shoot. So, don't bring someone clingy."

You hadn't realized you weren't blinking, until you followed her out of sight. She had left as if you weren't beaming at the thought of having scheduling time together; now and for the entire press run. As if she hadn't just added a mountain of delusions to get you by, she walked away.

You sighed. Bringing your hands to your face, biting your check to hide your overwhelming joy.

୨୧⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

After what felt like hours and yet also minutes, you finally reach the illusive event at, "...6:50 exact."

Ten minutes so that you wouldn't try to escape the choices you made tonight. The choices being the provocative dress you had gone back and forth between choosing for the evening. Your stylist had rolled her eyes, watching you pace around the room in a bathrobe asking pointless questions, 'Does it suit me? What if they think I'm trying too hard? Should I go for the other? But I love the color on this one...'

Whatever. What's done is done. Now you just need to act like you have all your puzzle pieces together and perform. You step into the studio, recognizing dolled up co-stars and trying not look too obvious in your search for a certain someone. You feel a tap on your shoulder, your swivel on your heels instantly.

"You look so hot," Not-Jenna dampens your hopes. You smile regardless, "Thank you, Evelyn! You look really great too!"

She made debuting from model to actress look easy. Tall, slender, kind and of course attractive. Nothing on Jenna though. Respectfully. Speaking of, where was she?

A small commotion turns your attention around, a gathering of people had crowded around the jewel of your life- Jenna Ortega. She looked radiant, glowing, anyone around her could see the appeal. Her smile was effortless, the lights bounced around her in such a fascinating way, you were drawn to her. Plant to sun. Moth to light. Stars to sky. Moon to night. She only consumed your entire world.

Your heart stops when her eyes meet yours across the room. Breathtaking. A small look of realization glosses her eyes before looking away.

You tilt your head, mesmerized.

A pinch rips through your body as you look for the source. A sour look morphs your features as Evelyn shakes her head. "Talk to her instead of staring. She probably has enough of that."

She was right. You didn't want to be another groupie to her, you wanted her to see you. You'd never know if you didn't put yourself in her radar...

She was a vice you had to break through, rip her away or completely indulge in. A flower with too much exposure can overwhelm it and kill it. Maybe you were an idiot. 'At least I'd die a happy one.'

You walk over, the slit in your dress exposing lace clad leg with every movement. Eyes danced to see you, acknowledging, scrutinizing, admiring, maybe all at once. People move slightly, inviting you to bask in the sun rays you crave the most. You look at her for seconds too long, your sure they notice but the fact is irrelevant. Her warmth soothes you, you start,

"Hi, everyone! Love seeing you all dressed up!"

They laugh, the conversation flows and questions get asked about something or another but every time it reaches her you selfishly take her in. Your eyes linger on her features, you take your time memorizing her like a poet falling in love with life. Like every detail had to be in-scripted on your skin in order to go on. You wonder if you were being clear enough.

Jenna had noticed. She was sure everyone did. Looks that invited hidden conversations were not hard to miss, it only takes one sultry up'n'down look to ask. No, she didn't imagine it, not when you looked so fixated on her, like she was the pinnacle of art and had spoken words of epiphanies to you. She's thankful for her foundation, your attention had surprisingly sparked a girlish reaction from her.

Even as the phootshoot starts and a team works quickly to poise and correct, her thoughts keep coming back to you. At some point you're posed together, the two leads of the film, close enough she can smell your perfume and let herself relax.

It doesn't help that the photographers are intentionally making you lessen your personal space. Hands on each others shoulders, waist, leaning on one another...

"Come on Jenna, I won't fall if you lean all the way."

She laughs, trying to keep her nerves from seeping out of her voice. She's done this millions of times before, but her heart races when you touch her so casually. When you're laughing and being so carefree like you weren't practically eye fucking her earlier.

"Okay, I'll hold you to that!"

So she does. Leans her head onto the valley of your shoulder, your perfume is stronger here. Her hands reach to hold your biceps, toned. She thinks, as though she hadn't ever indulged in looking at your bare arms during scenes. The cut of you dress allows the softness of your mounds to peek through, she tries not to think of how close her face is.

"See," you whisper above her head, "Wasn't so bad, right?"

She hums, suppressing the shiver your voice caused. You were warm. Truthfully her intentions were only to flirt with you tonight, maybe keep you around for intsa pictures, but your lingering gaze had invited a different attention. How far would she go tonight?

There was only so much she had gathered from you after working together and it wasn't enough to quell her thoughts. Thoughts she shouldn't be having about a co-star but she was too lonely at night to stop her from thinking of you. But if your attention made her feel nice, surely there were others?

Jenna walks as she talks to you, voice loud enough to understand even in the whirlwind of spotlights and cameras. The fluttering of your heartbeat was still there but it went down easier and lighter like butterflies. Basking in your efforts, combined with the glamour, and Jenna's constant presence made you secure. This was your element, you were made to be seen.

"Please, tell us what it meant working with each other in this film?"

Jenna's hand lands on your arm, signaling her lead, "I had an incredible time learning from her," she gives out an airy laugh. Her perfume had circled you, her warmth soothing and her voice angelic. Still, you continued to entertain, "That's too kind, Jenna has so much skill and precision. It was a a wonderful time..."

You look at Jenna, her make up was so nicely made around her eyes it completely locked you in. A siren's eyes. Dangerously beautiful with all the potential to suck you in if you weren't careful. "Aww," Jenna leans in, her hand encircling your arm, "She's so sweet."

The interviews come and go, Jenna- wonderfully, does not leave your side. You were certain her perfume was more prevalent on you than your own. Even when you step away slightly, entertaining guests and other members of your project, Jenna's presence lingers. Her hands find placement on you until you take the initiative and link arms.

"You smell nice."

Jenna doesn't glance your way but continues walking with you towards the showing room, the last leg of the night had approached. The room inside bumbling with more people to greet and take pictures with. She stops walking, a few feet away from the entrance, your arms still linked. She turns her head slightly, finally looking at you, "You like it?"

You nod, "It suits you," You had allowed your eyes to generously take her features in at every opportunity, now she levels with you, "What else?"

You swallow, smiling a teasing and telling smile. You look away from her, eyeing the show room on your right. You look at the floor, "Your platform heels are amazing," She watches your eyes trail over her exposed leg, her breath hitches.

"I like the slit on your dress, we kinda match.."

Her arm was still loosely linked to yours, allowing you to see her more of her. "Kinda,"

Longing eyes trace her hips and climb upwards, continuing, "The bodice of your dress hugs you nicely and your neckline," Jenna's tongue lingers over her teeth, hanging to every word.

"... is so delicate," Your eyes fixed on each other with a silent ripple finally overflowing your yearn.

She's silent as she pulls you in, guiding you away from the loud noise, you let her. Looking around, you're glad the few people left are too busy to notice the leading stars walking away. The frame of your night was changing, Jenna leading you to a much more secluded area, the first you've seen all night. The safety of the moonlit corner allowing for a private moment that felt intimate and not the least bit casual. You had seen a catalogue of emotions grace her features since working together but this one was different. You'd guess you probably looked at her similarity earlier and nothing could've prepared you for such a turn out.

The glamour of the night is still there, or rather here, slowly backing onto the wall. With Jenna looking as attractive as she's always been, the moonlight favoring her in similar awe. A sultry smile graces her painted lips, eyes still locked on yours, tauntingly raising a finger, gesturing you forward.

Her gesture falls straight down to your core, calling you to her circle. You walk forward, watching her sensual smile and inviting eyes. Once your close enough, Jenna traces the fabric of your dress, the shape of your figure, her eyes sink everything in, "You haven't been subtle all night, miss co star."

She looks at you, hand resting just below your breast. You smile, humming before giving her an answer, "I'm glad you had time to notice, very observant."

You bring your arms forward, pushing your hair back and exposing more skin to her wandering eyes. The actions emboldens her as she gently traces your collarbones, down to the plunging neckline on your chest. You let her do as she pleases, waiting with bated breath. "Who didn't?"

Her arms encircle your neck, flushing your bodies together, she wastes no time before pressing her lips on yours. You do everything in you not straight-up moan, and quickly reciprocate her embrace. The kiss is hot, messy and she is promptly letting you know how worked up she was. For all her unbothered glaces and causal touches, she was a lot more eager than what she had let on. Her tongue pokes through and explores your mouth, unable to hold off any more, you moan. Squeezing her waist and kissing her deeper. She pulls back just as quickly as she had initiated the kiss, letting you chase her slightly before pulling back.

"Not bad," seductive wisps reach your ears, "You're kinda needy though..."

She gives a breathy giggle, teasing. You feign an offended gasp, low whispers even with no one around earshot.

"Remind me again how we got here?"

Her gaze was making your knees weak, though, she didn't need to know that. Needy was only the surface.

"Someone had been eye-fucking me all night,"

A small, pleased, sigh escapes your lips, her beautiful eyes making your whole world, "I sure was..."

Just as you leaned down to kiss her once more, her hand halts you. Her eyes suddenly holding a grain of seriousness, "You're not using me to cheat, right?"

Jenna seems to carry enough water and not just sun ray's to keep you well nourished. "No," you laugh, abrupt and empty. Shaking your head in confusion, "Why do you insist on such?"

She stares at you, eyes darting, looking for her own answers but all she receives is your genuine look of amusement.

"You look like you have lovers..."

You eyes widen. Your mouth falls open. Shaking your head at her apologetic look, she chuckles, bringing you closer once more. "I can't believe you think I get around like that!"

Light, airy, and still shocked at her reveal your hold on her waist moves her closer. You press her to you, gently moving her hair from her neck before murmuring in her ear,

"We can be lovers tonight, if you'd like."

Jenna drops her head on your shoulder, hiding her smile. A part of you still has time to hope she likes your perfume, your dress, your figure, heck- even your voice. You wait for rejection but she keeps her arms around you instead. Your world stills, waiting for her. Waiting for anything she'll give you.

Finally, after long thought, Jenna looks at you, taking in your pretty eyes, "Let's fuck like lovers."

An airless gasp leaves you, a brew of desire lightens what had been steeping all night and the drive to the hotel room wasn't far.

Your hands were attached the entire time until you stumbled straight to her room. The kissing resumes instantly, this time, you take the lead. Just like you proposed, you start gently, soaking every trace of her figure and imprinting it to memory. As eager as you were to look for her tells and likes, you slowly guide her to bed. You break the kiss, kissing the corner of her mouth and the top of her hands.

"You're pretty committed," Jenna muses as she watches you kneel and carefully begin to unclasp her platform heels. It's too early to say but having you kneeled before her in such a dress might be her new favorite view.

"I can do more," you grab her bare foot, while looking straight into her eyes, you kiss her ankle.

Her eyes follow every action you make, the way you worship her with every kiss, every caress to her skin, your eyes following her exclusively. There is no one but her in your refection and she's sure your entire existence is solely for her in that moment. Her chest had began to tell on her sharp breathes, heaving with excitement that had been brewing for so long finally being allowed to flourish. She sits with anticipation, following you just as closely as you are, waiting. The warm lamp light illuminates half your kneeled figure. It dips with your curves and exposes the skin under your tights. Did she tell you know nice you looked? She couldn't remember, but she certainly wouldn't miss this opportunity to show you. She swallows the lump in her throat, "You look so pretty like this,"

Your head gently leans to one side as you look up at her, pretty doe eyes transfixed. A knowing smile graces your features, you taunt, "Kissing you or did you mean on my knees?"

Slightly, you lean forward placing your weight on your hands. The slit of your dress stopped just shy underneath your hipbone and allowed Jenna to take an ample view.

"How scandalous of you.." Jenna trials off, hungrily taking in the sight.

"You know," you start, still on all fours and kissing upwards her leg. "If you were a guy, this is were I'd start sucking you off..."

You raise you eyebrows, amused at your own behavior. Jenna momentarily stops looking at the curve of your ass to look straight at you. "You can suck something else."

You smile, unafraid of hiding in your performance. This was about to be the best night of your life and you couldn't wait to chase the crashing relief in her arms.

Boldly, Jenna rests her leg on your shoulder leaning her weight on her hands behind her. There'd be time to relax and lay on the silky sheets, right now, she wanted to watch.

With the reigns effectively out of your hands, you lean further into the swell of her thighs. You kiss and bite her gently, she was your lover for the night after all, but Jenna had other plans. A soft, unexpected pressure sits on top of your head. She let's you look up,

"Harder."

You hum, shaking your head, "Lovers are gentle, sweet,"

You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to fucked by her like a cat in heat but you had already promised soft. Jenna doesn't take her hand away from your head, instead begins to cradle the side of your face. You lean in, eager to please her.

"Lovers do what the other wants, right?" Whispers that beckon you closer.

"That's dangerous," Too close and you'll come out with burns.

"And you're not running," Maybe, only, straight to you. You might be the idiot that flew too close to the sun but at least you'll have the taste of sun rays on your tongue.

The high rise hotel she invited you back to casts the perfect backsplash for your marvelous encounter. All giddy and high off her already, you feel the heat of your core seeping out. Or perhaps it always out of your control- she was the sun after all. Is it not natural to burn with heat the longer you bask in her?

୨୧⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

You wake up first, the moon light had peeked inside her room too loudly. Blinking away the sleep in your eyes, you focus on the woman next to you. Her make-up had smudged on the pillows and on her face but all you could see was beauty. She's really next to you. You actually slept with her! To think you weren't imagining the banter, the innuendos, her touches or all the flirting. But it was only for one night. Your smile morphs into a smaller one, crestfallen that this was it but still grateful it happened.

Before you could linger on her exposed shoulders, you bring the blankets to her chin. 'I should go...'

Careful and slowly, you reach to pull the blankets off of you. The cold night instantly sparks you alert but you remain cautious and continue moving methodically. Once on solid ground, you look back, already reminiscing on the dream of night you had. Reaching for your clothes closest to you, but a muffled sleepy whine pulls you back to her.

"Noo stay, I'll get cold..."

Her hand had found yours again and well that was that.

Laying back down, Jenna invites you back into the warmth of the thick blankets. She's quick to cuddle into you, face squished into your chest. Unlike you, trying to push away the implications of staying over, your arms hoover above her for a bit before finally resting on her. You feel her breath even out once more, steadily winding down again except this time, it all feels more intimate. You try to ignore the outline of her body pressed so closely to you before your heartbeat makes her change her mind.

The night leaves to quickly and this time the sunlight had coaxed Jenna awake first. She had slept so comfortably she had woken up relaxed. Her eyes lazily look up to her co-star, you, still asleep even after trying to escape last night. After giving her a blissful rest, how dare you? Honestly.

It's not enough for Jenna's eyes to follow your features, her fingers start to lightly trace your nose, your cheeks, your lips... Her mind replays her words from last night.

"Let's fuck like lovers"

It was so much more exciting than what she originally imagined it be. You were so raw, so desperate to please her and it brushed her in all the right ways. The sultry and loving whispers left her so excited, so eager to have your attention. She hums, lips pressing against each other, mind beginning to send sensations through her body.

The teasing way you would slip your fingers in and out, the way you chuckled in her ear at her pleas and the sounds you made when she started eating you. Her body was shivering with memories, her excitement taking over, she needed more.

Not-so carefully, Jenna moves on top of you straddling your hips. Your body had began to respond slowly, as the light pecks hit your face in tiny sensations. "Hm,"

"Good morning," You hated the way you smiled so quickly. Gosh, you didn't want her to think you were desperate, especially after last night. "Mornin'.."

Your eyes adjusted to the lovely sight in front of you, Jenna. Her hair slightly tickling you as she moved to kiss down your neck. A few laughs leave you, to excited to touch her again your hands are unable to find placement on her body. You soothe her lightly, giving her all the freedom to do with you as she wished.

"Ah! Hey!"

Her marks from the previous activities still fresh, but it doesn't stop her from sinking her teeth for another bite. The startling action causing you to squeeze her hips, accidentally pushing her down. You hadn't mean to be so bold, she's literally on top of you what are you on about, but she responds enthusiastically. Grinding her bare hips onto yours and continuing to make paintings on your neck.

"Aha, Jenna," your breath quickens, hands steeling themselves on her as she continues to build off her high on you. Closing your eyes, you relish her warmth, the prickly cold of the morning had vanished, she smelled so wonderful and wanted you again. Gosh, this was everything.

"Jennaa.."

She looks up, briefly, and you swear your heart dies. Those mischievous eyes were gleaming again, framed by the ruined eyeliner you caused, telling you unspoken thoughts. Your hand reaches the back of her neck and lead her to kiss your lips instead. So hungry and wanting but your kisses are slower, as if testing how far she was willing to go. The tip of her tongue holds the answers to your questions and leads them as far into your mouth as she can reach.

That's all you need.

With you hand still cradling her neck and the other now wrapped around her waist, you flip her over never once disconnecting her invitation. Quickly, she settles into her new position by wrapping herself around you no need to ask for more. Who are you to deny her?

The sunlight drapes your bare forms as you tussle in the sheets of her hotel room, witnessing the entanglement of two stars seeking each others warmth. Jenna's laughs and moans fuel your own fire, somehow emitting an equally salacious desire to drown her in your love. It's not like the sun could be wash away so easily, she was made to handle a lot of desire. After all, she would only be taking responsibility of her heat inducing sun rays...

[howdoesagrapewrites]

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐰𝐬

Plot: Imagine being the legitimized bastard of Daemon Targaryen, and having a very devoted family.

Cw: fem!reader, cisgender female reader (I'm sorry mascs and nbs, I'll make something for you later) incest/targcest implied for later, platonic and romantic yanderes, yandere EVERYONE x reader, here's a list of every character that will be featured (not all of them are romantic):Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rhea Royce, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Haelena Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Laena Velaryon, Laenor Velaryon

Notes: I go by a very strange mix of the series and the books, I haven't seen the series in a while so the timeline will most likely be a mess. I'd like this to be a series but I've been incredibly busy. Extra: at first I thought about making reader Mysaria's daughter, but this is a self insert, so it's best that you look however you like, leaving the mother anonymous. The only physical reference I'll make will be reader's silver hair

>After Rhaenyra was declared the heir of the iron throne, Daemon, insulted, flew away with his mistress, the white worm, who he would conceive a child with, even asking for a dragon egg for the prince or princess to come

>However, Viserys demanded him to go back to his home and wife, he sent Mysaria off to lys, where the stress of a storm in the trip back made her lose the baby

>Daemon never fully forgave his brother, and this left him less than eager to have another child anytime soon

>So imagine his surprise, when 7 years later, there's a rumour spreading in flea bottom like wildfire, about a girl carrying Daemon's bastard

>Many women had claimed to carry a royal child before, thinking this could give them any sort of prize, so Daemon didn't think much of it at first, but when he heard her name, he recognized her as one of his previous "favorites" who disappeared without a trace months ago

>She was said to have taken residence in Essos, and Daemon went on dragonback to find her. She was from the free cities, five years older than Daemon, and a heart as cold as a northern winter, or so they said. She was not expecting Daemon, running away to have the child in peace

>"They said I was too far along when I found out, moon tea would've only harmed me. Besides, it was lucrative in its own way" said the woman. Daemon did little to suppress the disgust on his face when thinking about her being defiled by other men while carrying his dragonseed babe

>She wanted no part in the baby's life, and Daemon, in his particular fashion, informed her he'd take the youngling as soon as it's out of her, may even pay her a few coins to make sure she won't do much as think about keeping it

>A few months passed, and he returned to king's landing with a babe in arms. Demanding an egg in honor of the birth of princess Y/N Targaryen

>This egg would later hatch into the dragon Dagahrion, the princess' bound dragon

>The court was a hot mess, according to Otto, he wouldn't be surprised if the young creature lost its left ear because of all the gossip and ill-speaking of her, just like her father. This was a scandal, considering he was still married to Rhea Royce, who he gravely dishonored time and time again, Daemon was always shameless, but this was crossing a limit, even for him, to call his bastard a princess while refusing to lay with his own rightful wife, disgraceful

>Daemon tried to use you as yet another attempt to get his brother to annul his marriage to "the bronze bitch", but even when he failed, he did everything in his power to legitimize his daughter

>Despite everyone on the council telling Viserys how foolish it'd be to do it, making enemies out of the Royce house, further insulting Rhea, and putting a whoreborn on the line of succession (no matter how far from the throne), all it took was a little yawn and the bright twinkle of your eyes to make him melt, he is fully committed to his role of uncle, even as a doting grandfather, considering his father passed long before her birth

>Viserys sent Daemon back to the Vale, saying he should do his best to give lady Rhea an heir, to make up for the slip and avoid causing the Targaryen house any more trouble. Viserys, for totally not selfish reasons wanted to keep the princess in KL, saying Rhea should not be made to raise his bastard

>Daemon said he'd rather be exiled again than to leave his daughter in Hightower hands to go try to fuck his wife. Viserys was greatly offended by the implication that the Hightowers truly ruled and schemed while he reigned

>To his outmost displeasure, he finally had to let his niece go to the Vale with her father

>Rhea loved you as soon as she set eyes on you, completely separating you from your father's actions, and seeing you as a pure angel in this horrible situation

>But it was so difficult with Daemon around, she just wanted to whisk you away and love you, she'd pray to the mother to be able to breastfeed you, crying when she heard you wail in frustration of your hunger, since it took several wet nurses to get you to drink milk

>But Daemon was always around to remind her you were not hers, that he considered her lowly, not worthy of you. He'd correct you when you learning to speak, and dared to refer to her as "mama"

>It was said the ground of the vale would shake upon them yelling when fighting over you

>But this joy to Rhea was short lived, as Daemon sent you to KL when he had to fight in the war of the stepstones, saying the "nest of vipers" was more deserving of you than she was. When you were three, your step mother had an accident while hawking, many said Daemon orderded for her to be poisoned when she was bed bound, others said the distress of your parting made her lose skill

>It was Viserys greatest pleasure when you were left at his care, his adorable baby niece was now an infant, and somehow you were even more charming, being able to speak, sing and walk

>To no one's surprise, Viserys' reaction was not generalized, with many not being keen on having a bastard running around the castle playing with the princes, by that point, Aegon was 8, Haelena was 7, Aemond was 5, and Daeron was 1, and almost all of them could see people treated you differently

>Rhaenyra was welcoming, baby Lucerys had just been born, and she was delighted to have a girl to spoil, it only helped that Jacaerys loved you as well, and would often fight his uncles for the chance to be with you

>Alicent in particular was not pleased with your presence, thinking you were an uncomfortable conversation to have with her children, especially resentful of the fact her youngest son would be attached at the hip with you

>To Otto, you were an annoyance, a living proof of Daemon's pure disregard for the norms, however, he could rest at night knowing you were ninth in the line of succession, and a girl, who would someday marry a son of a minor house and be too busy bearing children to present a claim to the iron throne

>Even though the Hightowers were tougher than the king, they did eventually succumb to your spell, and became just as enamoured with you as everyone else, in their minds, you were almost a product of spontaneous generation, completely ignoring your shameful father and prostitute mother

>Your arrival also caused the birth of Lucerys (who was again, born with a striking resemblance of Harwin Strong, just like his older brother) to be less gossiped about, after all, your case was much more interesting

>Some people in court starting referring to you as "The princess of flea bottom", this title costed quite a few tongues around the castle, ordered by Viserys, happily approved by Otto

>The Hightower hand was careful not to show too much affection to you, as it was improper and he knew how zealous was Viserys when it came to you

>Aegon was "already too old to be playing" in his words, and kept his distance from you, you reminded him to much of his sticky handed little brothers

>But as if you knew, you chased him around and praised him for his knightly demeanor (in your eyes) and how he's just like the heroes in Viserys' stories. It was not a long time before Aegon now appointed himself as your guard, watching like a hawk over his brothers and nephews when he thought they were being too rough on you

>Haelena loves you from the start, sees you as a little doll, she loves showing you her bugs, you're the only one who listens to her attentively

>Jacaerys and Daeron are only a year old, but always search for you, you think they're cute, something that spikes jealousy on Aemond, he wants you to think of him as someone worthy of admiration, like you see his older brother, he'd even accept being cute in your eyes, but he has none of those traits to appeal to you. You love him and love playing with him nonetheless, but he thinks he needs something else to win your favor

>The Velaryons dote on you too, with Laenor married to Rhaenyra and once your father marries Laena that same year, they are maybe too eager to become part of your family, and regard you as theirs

>Especially Laena, who Daemon allows (unlike with Rhea) to pamper and care for you, but still corrects you when it comes to remembering your origins, Laena may love you, but she's not your mother

>Maybe Daemon does this as a way to imagine you're only his, he doesn't care for the woman who abandoned such a precious treasure, she has been wiped away from your life and memory, you're only familiar with your father, you only belong to him

>You have his silver hair, you have his name, no matter who your mother was, you are his true valyrian heir, his dragonseed

>Unfortunately, Daemon is not the only one whose eyes light up when thinking of owning you

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Pack Chapter 7

Trigger Warnings: mentions of pre-rut, mentions Christmas

Three days later Chan had healed perfectly and was up around the house doing his normal duties. He was grateful to be surrounded by his wolves and his beautiful omega who he wouldn't leave alone. Chan couldn't, she was finally his and he was hers, so there was no way he would leave her alone. He would spend hours cuddling up to her, despite the whines of the other wolves. Chan did not care. He had also given them all the go-ahead to mate with her when they were ready or when she was ready, most importantly. This sent Jisung into a slight panic because as much as he was excited, he was nowhere near ready and the other wolves could see it. Jisung had been caught several times taking a peak through the doors or watching the way the wolves would kiss and caress her. He was silently but creepily taking notes of the way her body reacted. Minho had even scolded him the other day for watching Chan bury his face in their little wolf's wet saccharine pussy. Did he stop? No. He was doing it again, but this time watching the way Minho kissed her. Minho was more of a virgin than him and it annoyed Jisung because she even gave the elder a reaction. The way her ankle would wrap itself around her other ankle as she got excited. "You are a pervert," Hyunjin shouted as he smacked the back of the beta's head, causing Minho to glare angrily and Y/N to stand awkwardly in embarrassment.

Hyunjin crossed his arms in utter disgust at his shameless behaviour. Jisung was desperate for her, but he couldn't quite get her where he wanted her to be, there was always something distracting her. "You need to stop," Minho growled, turning his back to clean the rest of the dishes. "Sorry." Jisung whispered and scurried off somewhere. It did make Y/N a little self-conscious but it also didn't. She wished he was more confident in himself. "I've got your own debit card so you don't have to worry. It's linked to mine but I'm waiting on Chan to let me take you to get your own one." Hyunjin said causing Minho to cross his arms as he watched him hand over an envelope. Y/N opened the envelope to see her name written across the bottom. Y/N Bahng. The name startled Y/N, but not in a bad way. It made her stomach tingle. "Why does she need one? She's not going shopping alone, ever." Minho sulked as he crossed his arms when Hyunjin sat on the stool placing his hands on the island. "Because Minho-ssi we are not taking her freedom away. She has a right to have her own things, just not a job." Hyunjin stated which caused Y/N to snort. Y/N was far too domesticated and hated working. She had tried it once as Jackson's secretary but she got so bored. She hated phoning people and filing things. "Does Chan know about this?" Minho asked. "Yes because he's been setting her up assets so she doesn't have to worry about things." Hyunjin agued. The two wolves went back and forth about the reality of this. Why? Minho wanted her at home so he could spoil her but Hyunjin wanted her to have freedom with finances. Neither one of them was listening to each other. "Am I allowed to have a say in this?" Y/N asked. "No." The two shouted as they continued to argue.

Y/N shook her head at the two wolves and decided to go and see her alpha in his room who was getting changed. "Oops. Sorry." Y/N said as she covered her eyes. She didn't mean to walk in on him. "Hi, baby," Changbin called out as he wrapped his arms around the omega's waist before slamming her into Jeongin's door. Y/N giggled at the beta and kissed him affectionately, his tongue sliding into her mouth playfully. "What do you want Bin?" Y/N asked. Changbin shrugged his shoulders with a smirk. "Nothing, baby," Changbin smirked, his finger nudging her chin. Y/N had noticed the actions between the other wolves had changed when she became mated to Chan. They were all more protective of her or incredibly needy. Hyunjin, Jeongin, Chan and Minho were the protective ones who became hyper-aware of her feelings. Seungmin and Changbin were much more sexually needy, especially Seungmin who was still threatening a punishment after she had him alpha-ordered. Jisung and Felix were more lovingly affectionate but it was tough for them as they themselves were not ready to mate, yet. They were still undecided. It was nice for Y/N but sometimes it felt suffocating and they noticed that. They were more vocal about her distress and scolded the wolf who was being too overwhelming with her.

Jeongin opened the bedroom door, causing Y/N to nearly fall and Changbin to growl at the alpha. "Y/N could have hurt herself." Changbin chided. "She's fine, but you're not fucking on my door," Jeongin growled. His anger radiating off of him alerted Y/N's wolf to see if he was alright. "Jeongin are you alright?" Y/N asked as she went to reach out for him but he avoided her touch but gave her a sharp nod. "I'm going to the gym." Jeongin declared when Chan came out. "That's fine. I was going to take my little wolf shopping for proper clothes." Chan answered with a smile as he grabbed his jacket. Changbin pouted and asked Chan if he could join, which he didn't detest. Chan was quite happy for someone to join him as it meant more eyes to protect there soul mate. "Baby?" Chan whispered as he pulled her closer to kiss her mark while she was putting her shoes on. "Jeongin's having a pre-rut. He gets quite angry before it happens, but we'll talk about it later alright." Chan stated. Minho: Someone left in a mood and knocked the plant off the table. Seungmin: It wasn't me. [Insert picture] Chan shook his head as the group chat started to argue. He didn't want one of them to get on the wrong side of Jeongin. Not when Jeonin was probably feeling a mixture of emotions considering their mate was fully mated Chan: It was an accident. Minho: Next time pick it up. Chan rolled his eyes before putting his phone in his pocket.

Y/N, admittedly felt nervous about going out, since the last time she did, caused Felix to kill San. She couldn't help feeling nervous and wondered if she underestimated Wooyoung and he would return. Chan noticed her anxiety and promised he would not let go of her once. Chan even promised her they would leave as soon as she wanted to, but Y/N wanted to be brave as she looked around the shops. Y/N looked around the shops nervously while Changbin tried to suggest things but Chan shook his head. Chan wanted her to buy things she liked, not what they wanted to see her in. Y/N appreciated that and picked out some graphic t-shirts, and trousers along with a couple of jumpers now that the weather was getting colder. It felt weird that Y/N got to use her own card but she kept forgetting the pin number, to the point she had to phone Hyunjin twice who told her to write it in her phone. Overall, Y/N did enjoy her time, she felt really happy with Chan and Changbin. She was even happier when she found Christmas items which caused the two wolves to groan. "Baby. It's November." Chan stated, like it was the most obvious thing. "When do you put your tree up?" Y/N asked. "As soon as Chan and Minho let us. It's normally the second week of December." Changbin huffed. "That's ridiculous," Y/N argued. "What's ridiculous is you buying Christmas items now," Chan argued. "Don't be a sour wolf. Enjoy it. Embrace it ." Y/N sang. "I'll embrace it when it's December baby. You're not getting it." Chan crossed his arms but Y/N shrugged and bought it anyway stating it was Hyunjin's money anyway. Chan shook his head and agreed to it as long as he didn't see it in his house until December, which Y/N accepted. Y/N loved Christmas. It was her favourite time of year and she always celebrated early, despite her mother's grumbles, back then. Y/N and her brothers used to decorate their cabin while trying to convince the other wolves to decorate the main hall. They had a certain tradition. Decorate the cabin. Drink hot chocolate with whatever alcohol they could find and watch Krampus, the shitty horror film they watched every year for no reason. Luckily for her Hongjoong allowed her to keep some parts of the tradition but it was quite an odd Christmas for her, which was why she was super excited for this year. Y/N knew she was safe and knew it would be a fantastic Christmas, but all she had to do was get the Grinches to let her put the tree up.

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @galaxy4489

[thatbitchery]

So I was talking to my manz (see how he earned this title after I signed a prenup, not after I got a ring? Very smart. Very that bitch. Very demure. I don’t go committing myself to anything before I see paperwork. I think from reality and future instead of emotion and promises. See how I negotiated and manipulated with that prenup? Very IT girl, very smart girl. I don’t take chances with my life. Very classy.) about going back to therapy because why am I always attracting criminals? And not even the “robbed a bank” or “body count of ten” kind—we are talking dark, dark people.

He shrugs and goes, “You are just so you,” which—after a lot of prodding, because men can’t say shit straight ever—actually meant, “It’s because people feel like they can tell you things.” Which disgusted me, because you're saying I come across as an emotional dumpster? But apparently, nope—I’m just “trustable with this kind of thing, you know?” And to the question, “Why in hell are you saying it like it’s a good thing?” the answer—which is the main topic of this—was: “It means you’re an asset.”

Womanhood is not a spectrum, actually. It's set in stone, and that stone is this: I. Do. Nauuttt. Give. A. Fuuuck. For. Free. The highest form of femininity is indifference. Because femininity is surrender (not submission—that’s masculinity. The highest form of masculinity is submission. See: wars, legacy, workplace politics, reputation, and manhood), and surrender is indifference. When you surrender to something, you are completely impartial to it—hence, indifferent. And this concept is so hard to explain because it’s girls who want to be a “bad bitch” that think this means they should just be careless, because IDGAF—and that’s the highest form of stupidity. Indifference means: I am separate from the outcome and impartial to the process, but committed to my goal. It’s indifference to the process but commitment to the outcome.

When I was young, in high school, there was literally no form of power to leverage because there are such limited forms of power in the world. And I was getting bullied 24/7 because there was nothing for me to leverage to buy consideration. And because of this, everyone and their dog—including teachers—used me as a trauma dumpster. Because what am I going to do? Blackmail them?

Which—thank God—I am me, and me is incredibly smart, because me turned that into power. How? By being selective about who gets free journal privileges with me.

Say, in the dorm, if some girl sat on my bed and tried to trauma dump but hadn’t earned the right to yet, I’d just echo a “hm” and do everything but listen. It’s like, mhm, while I fold my clothes and midway go, “Hey, are you sitting on my blouse?” No? “Uh, where is it?”—so they know I wasn’t listening. Which would, I found, lead them to want to make me listen (because one week ago I was so why am I not right now?) and they’d go “Are you even listening?” and I’d be like, “Yeah, you were talking about your mom or something?” (steal a look, force a smile) “If you’re not sitting on my blouse, where is it?” —and then go back to my whatever without trying to reestablish connection. (P.S., the blouse doesn’t exist lol.)

And then that would be them freaking out because the power has been flipped. Which led to the “Ugh, you’re not even that important,” to which I’d be like “Yeah, you told me that three Sundays ago, I still remember. Have you seen my hairpin?”

And when people earned the right to trauma dump, I learned they’re just looking for indifference. They just want to be heard.

So, example: A guy would ask if he can sit by my table at lunch, and I’d just shrug— like, I don’t own the tables? You can sit on the table itself if you want to. How does this concern me? And then he’d sit, and I’d look at him once every ten minutes as he attempted trauma dumping, and I’d play the same game like:

Him: Trauma dumping

Me, mid-sentence: “Do you have this textbook? I need to buy one but it’s hard being broke.”

Him: “No, but I’ll buy you one.”

Me: smiles “When?”

Him: “After school?”

Me: “Okay, see you here then. 5 p.m.? I’ll get a permission slip.” Leaves the table.

When evening came and we did, in fact, go buy the textbook, then—and only then—would I actually listen. After checkout: “Maybe your mom wouldn’t be so shitty if you weren’t so shitty? Just do what she wants. She’ll give you your freedom. She just wants submission. Humor her.” Waits for him to hold the door open so he can drive us back to campus.

To which you would think: Mother, isn’t that the exact opposite of being indifferent? Well yes—but if I agreed, it’d be obvious I’m kissing ass. I picked both his side (you’re not wrong) and her side (neither is she. You can both win), to say I was listening—you just hadn’t earned the right to be yapping family business at me when I’m eating the lunch you’re paying for.

People are so easy to train if you have the patience for it.

So my indifference is an asset because it’s earned. No, I do not care to listen to you babbling about your cocaine trade that’s ruining South America unless I’m getting something out of it.

When you’re in the same space as people, they assume you’re on the same level—unless it’s obvious you’re not (e.g., scholarship kid that is known to be scholarship kid)—and they have to find a way to establish hierarchy. And then attention becomes the model of it. Are you someone that gives your time easily? Are you someone that takes sides? Can you be trusted?

And think of it this way—do you trust things you get for free? If I gave you a Birkin for free, would you trust it? Obviously not. You’d be suspicious.

So if I’m at an event and someone’s underloved dad, who’s had to buy all his intimacy because he’d rather die than develop emotional intelligence, decides to strut-waddle over and talk about his illegal streams of income, I make the most mechanical, obvious “I’m not interested in hearing this” face and reaction. And at some point I drop the— “Wait, didn’t you recently acquire this one firm? That was something. How did you get them to sell? Are you publicly listed yet? How does one get on the investors list when it’s still private? Yeah, I know it’s not easy, that’s why I’m asking the CEO, not Google?” And when I get an answer, it’s: “You know it’s not my place or my trade, but if I were to take a route for it, I’d avoid the one you’re taking and take this one here—it makes more sense. I’m no lawyer obviously, but think of it this way…”

I will ONLY listen when there’s a reason for me to.

So how is this an asset? It means I easily make it to the advisors table. Every. Single. Time. Some boy that used to bully me in the first year of high school offered me a Board of Directors position in a firm I’m not even in because he can tell me he killed his mom and I’ll say, “Okay. Anyway—” And he will be secure in the secrecy I’ll keep, because I do have something to lose—whatever he used to bargain his way into having me as his journal. And not only will I not judge—I’ll also not offer advice or praise him for it. None of my business, you know. Moving on.

I need you to understand: outside JK Rowling, Taylor Swift, and people who become billionaires through intellectual property and talent, there isn’t a SINGLE ethical billionaire on the face of planet Earth.

If you want to dine with the Fortune 500, you need to look at actual human abuse and say “huh. Anyway—”

And the big money you want so bad is held by people that feel repressed inside their own bodies—because they are human beings, social creatures, who need companionship and connection, which comes from sharing. But they can’t do that, because it’s always someone trying to “hypergamy” their way into their pockets. And if you make yourself a safe space, they will end whole races of people for you.

I said there’s a KKK-level white supremacist dude that would break up with his Gigi Hadid of a wife if I didn’t like her—and everyone (literally only two people lol) were wondering how that happened. And the thing is: I’m a safe space on the condition that I am also safe within this space.

I will listen to you rant about how your Adderall drug business is stressing you while eating ice cream on your balcony and just: “Wow, that’s something. What did you do after that?” And then, after your crime confessions, I’ll groan about my aviation exams like: “What was I thinking.”

I will make you feel normal. I will offer you humanity. Normalcy. Stability. No judgment. Without OFFERING MYSELF. This, right here, this is the catch.

If you piss me off, I’ll cut you off. If I feel disrespected ONCE, I’ll walk out. And I’ll hold nothing over your head. Even if we break up, your secrets are safe with me. That’s it. That’s the catch point. In this relationship, one of us needs the other.

Do the math.

BMAC

[jadeoru]

SMUDGED LIPSTICK

07: silent treatment -> prev / mlist / next

now playing: tightrope - movements 🎶

Awkward. Everything about this was awkward. You were sitting on the floor beside the bed, your back pressed against the bed frame. You haven’t looked at him once. He sat on the bed beside you, sitting cross-legged on the edge of it.  He was shamelessly staring at you; yet you refused to even acknowledge his existence. He silently admired your features, watching as you typed away on your phone. After taking a quick peek at your screen, he deducted that you were writing song lyrics. His eyebrows raised up briefly, face filled with amusement. Selfishly, he was glad to be here during your writing process. He thought to himself that maybe if this song gets finished, you might decide to release it to the world. And maybe, if that were to happen, you might add this song to future setlists; perform it for thousands to see. Then, maybe, just maybe, as the words you typed out right here beside him left your lips, maybe you would think of him; you would remember this moment. He shoved his ‘maybe’s’ aside, and watched your face scrunch up in concentration. As he watched you structure each verse carefully, only one thought crossed his mind:

Holy shit, you’re beautiful.

He’s glad you haven’t told him off for staring yet because god, he missed your face. He missed hearing your voice, even if your words were fueled by hatred; disgust. You made even the most incoherent of ramblings sound like poetry. His eyes scanned your face, putting every inch of your skin to memory, almost in fear that he would never get the chance to see it again. His heart panged at the thought of never seeing these expressions of yours again - how your tongue darted across your bottom lip. You shifted around on the floor. He knew you were incredibly uncomfortable down there, but your spite and pettiness outweighed any discomfort you felt. He fidgeted with his phone, trying to look like he was doing something, anything. He tried to act as if he wasn’t as desperate as he really was.

He failed.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “So are y-” “no.” ouch. You shut him down immediately, not even bothering to hear him out. He deserved it, he thought to himself. He would try again regardless. He would keep trying to get a word that wasn’t ‘no’ or ‘shut up’ out of you, no matter how annoying he got. But after the sixth time, it was evident to him that this would be a lot harder than it seemed. He was ashamed of how pathetic he was towards you, but the thought of giving up hasn’t crossed his mind once. If you didn’t want to speak physically, maybe there were other ways to get a conversation out of you.

He turned his phone on, and quickly added you to his contacts, before beginning to type.

extra:

BOKUAKA IS REAL!!!

sakusa feels SO pathetic but he always feels that way when it comes to you

you somehow always leave him speechless

but that doesn't mean anything!!!! he just misses your friendship!! thats all!!! totally!!

i wonder what the song yn was writing is about 🤔🤔

noya and hinata are having the equivalent of a 6 year old girls sleepover

like theyre giggling and talking about boys n shit

7 chapters in and they still hate each other.... oops...

its okay guys we're getting to the good part i promise

good things are coming!!!

kinda!

TAGLIST: @gojoed @itsdragonius @sleepy-writer84 @anianurst @yuminako @wolffmaiden @tenjikusstuff4 @juie13 @ilyless @arachnoia @choizzn @3lectraheart @diorzs @le000xxgrd @aboveasphodel @petrus1989 @aria-in-wonderland @sugarrhiccupp @bbybibi @walllflowerrrsss @wave2mia @loveelylacey @marimisses @alpha-mommy69

reply to this or send me an ask to be added to the taglist ! ^__^

[nutsackx]

Do you think for your mad scientist Au, Sodapop is okay with what Ponyboy did to Darry? How did he react? And also, Does Ponyboy ever regret his decision of reviving his friends? Why doesn’t he revive his parents? Does Ponyboy ever get caught by the police? Does Sodapop mess up on his job, and if he does how does Ponyboy react?

I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS THAT NEED ANSWERS.

I feel so corny writing this 🤤

Sodapop isn’t incredibly… sure what’s happening? I guess? Like he knows about the revivals and stuff, but he isn’t really big on details because it grosses him out. He’s aware that Darry’s a killer but he’s not aware that it’s not by choice. He was a lot like Darry where he wasn’t cool with it at all until Pony mentioned bringing their folks back.

Ponyboy does not regret reviving his friends at all. Even though they all hate him for it and constantly talk about wanting to die, he thinks he’s helping them. At first it was kinda of just ‘I’m going through some sort of psychosis and need closure” to “I’m a god I can bring people back from the dead, hallelujah’

And with his parents… however he revives them (I was thinking like the Re-Agent from Reanimator) only works on fresh bodies (I think Herbert went through that too, I haven’t seen the movie in a while). And obvi his parents died way before he figured it out becuase he’s not he wasn’t actually a scientist (lowk still isn’t, luck is on his side I guess).

The AU is set in like the 30s/40s, and if you know anything about asylums around that time they were HORRIFIC. Police already don't really care as long as he keeps the crazies locked away. The main people who think there’s something going on are like college students or activists, I guess?? And most of the time Soda’s able to sweet talk them into going away.

Also Soda is like easily the least coordinated when it comes to the Curtis’s. He messes up 24/7 (he’s the reason Dallas can escape so often, and more often than not causes Darry to have to go back out cus he dropped something), but Pony can’t really let him go because he thinks Soda’s gonna snitch.

And while Ponyboy still loves his brothers, he’s like lowkey a little crazy. He’s downright evil tbh. He defiantly has some sort of explosive dissorder, and when he gets mad he gets MAD.

also someone on Tiktok asked why Johnny’s got the blue eye. Realistically I’m just gonna say Darry snatched it from Bob because let’s be real he doesn’t need both. Also he can not see out of it or move it, it’s just kinda of cosmetic (though it’s absolutely disgusting and Johnny hates it)

anyway if anyone has anymore questions lemme know… this is kinda fun

I’m working on cherry and Marcia designs (they’re nurses btw), and maybe some of like Bob and Randy if I get bored

[heretyc]

think ya could write being married to coyle

You got it! 👉😎👉

Coyle is, obviously, obsessed with American values. If you're an all American spouse, he will brag about you to high heaven, I swear it. Only a man as great as him can have someone as great as you. Your wedding, obviously, had an American flag, and he wore his uniform, because that's Coyle for you.

This man is incredibly possessive; he won't let disgusting commies go near you. Expect to have him near you at all times, and if he has to be away for some reason, he'll give you a baton like his.

He believes that men should be the dominant one of the relationship, so he will be the one providing. He makes sure you don't lift a single finger, what kind of husband would he be if he made you do dirty work??

During trials he's a guard dog, through and through. No ex-cop should think about going near his spouse if they want to live and remain electrocuted. This is especially the case with Barbi; he gets real pissed if that little shit thinks about you in ways Coyle doesn't like.

He loves to call you honey and darlin'. Your name is never used unless he's angry.

Submitting to him is all he wants, but if you manage to dom him, he swears he'll get back at you. Your neck will pretty much be swollen and purple afterwards, and the other ex-cops question why you can't walk properly...

He's a shoulder to cry on when you need it, but he believes that you should be strong in the face of issues. He'll quote something deep. And if you really need his help, he won't deny you. If he can use his precious baton, even better.

He's religious to some extent, but he uses the Lord's name in vain fucking 24/7, so he doesn't care if you say "oh my god" or something. That'd be mighty contradictory.

While he likes to enforce "laws", he'll look the other way if you break one...for justice purposes. Killing a guy because he disrespected the American way of living is okay, hell, he does it all the time!

He'd hug you if not for the large ass Pontiac battery strapped to him lmfao. He takes it off first. You don't wanna fry, do you?

[robin-evry]

Hi, I love your headcanons, is there any way for a Kaibyo! Yuu?

Glad you enjoyed it, ask and you shall receive

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐁𝐘𝐎 😺👻

Kaibyō (怪猫, "strange cat") are supernatural cats in Japanese folklore. Examples include bakeneko, a yōkai (or supernatural entity) commonly characterized as having the ability to shapeshift into human form; maneki-neko, usually depicted as a figurine often believed to bring good luck to the owner; and nekomata, referring either to a type of yōkai that lives in mountain areas or domestic cats that have grown old and transformed into yōkai.

( English is not my first language )

Day 2 : kaibyo!yuu

The entrance ceremony goes exactly the same, waking up in a coffin,grim sets the fire to the school and acatera. Originally kaibyo!yuu thought that grim was the same kin, mystical cats able to manipulate blue flame and are capable of human speech, before the blue flame can spread kaibyo!yuu use their magic to stop it, for compensation kaibyo!yuu ask Crowley to allow grim to enter the school as another student.Crowley unfortunately has no choice ( literally )

Since the mirror said that kaibyo!yuu but they display some abilities to control fire and shape shift. So Crowley still allowed them to attend the school. When Crowley presents the ramshackle dorm to kaibyo!yuu, he swears they send him the most disgusted glared in the world. He swears when he was sleeping, he felt someone was watching and is cursing him. After being unable to take it any longer he fixed the dorms and that allowed him to sleep peacefully... For now.

Kaibyo!yuu as a student likes to sleep during class, when Mr trein asks them a question about a subject, they answer correctly, when a test happens they always get good grades and manage to stay on top of class and during a portion project they always get it perfect.

Technically kaibyo!yuu is 12 years old since in mythology if cats live more than 7 years or turn 12 years, they are able to turn into a kaibyo or bakeneko. So technically kaibyo!yuu is 12 years old but in cat years they would be 64 years old.

Kaibyo!yuu has the ability to manipulate blue flames as well to shape shift and are able to create illusion but it's not as realistic as kitsune!yuu. They are able to cast but they do need a piece of paper to cast them. By writing fire and throwing it or something touch it, it will summon a fire it's similar to glyph magic from the owl house.

Not to mention kaibyo!yuu have incredible stamina, flexibility, and speed as well to quick reaction speed. Since Kaibyo!Yuu have the ability to shape shift to a human disguise, but they usually aren't in this form either. Because it takes too much energy, so they fused both their human form and yokai form into one. In this form they have their feline features around their body but with a human body including their cat ears and a tail. Their body is covered in a thin layer of fur. As well a bonus to be immune to poison.

kaibyo!yuu is pretty laid-back but also quite blunt without realizing it. They are incredibly brutally honest but showing this side for those who are not close to them, only acting nice for those who are around their circle.

In this situation, when kaibyo!yuu was standing in the middle of a room too busy paying attention, someone stepped on their tale as a joke, let's just say the person ended up living with a multiple bloodied cat scratches on their body and face. rook is incredibly infatuated about them wanting to learn more about there physiology, so he went straight ahead and ask them let me tell you, kaibyo!yuu send this dude the most deadass glare in the world and that didn't work on him cause he keeps asking and every time when they tried to scratch he managed to dodge. Vil practically sees kaibyo!yuu as a potential to be a model or an actress due to their pretty appearance as well as there talent of memorising something quickly and perfectly, but their personality is a total downgrade.

Their main diets are usually poison. During lunch they will bring a snake, they hunt from the woods and eat it there, this certainly scares the vice warden of scarabia. After hearing their immunity to poison Jamil will ask for kaibyo!yuu to taste the food for kalim and if they like it, it means it's poisonous. This allowed kalim to eat food more freely as well Jamil not risking his lives.

Idia first impression on kaibyo!yuu was cute, behind the tablet he really wanted to pet them but after a few chapters. Idia is now afraid of kaibyo!yuu feeling they would judge him and send him a glare towards his way. He would just die.

Also after kaibyo!yuu have a cellphone given by Crowley. Carter introduced them into gaming and now they're hooked.

Kaibyo!yuu would not bid fairly in the octanaville chapter due to it taking place at water and they hate getting wet, because they feel heavy. And how long their fur can dry up, PS : they also mention having a sibling who is a nekomata.