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yandere-wishes · 22 days

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⭒ㅤׂ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere! X-Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓔𝔁𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 ♡ ｡゜

˚୨♡୧˚Magneto - Erik Lehnsherr | مگنیتو - اریک لنشر

Techno graces your body in lieu of veins. Wires coiling like arteries should. You use it to mimic him, embody him, be him. His starry-eyed parody. Erik needs you to be more, to be everything he -and everybody else- could never be. You are synthetic and sacred in every way, you are the future he so desperately craves.

He can't help seeing them when he looks at you. The reverend wraiths of tortured adoration speak to him through your eyes. He sees a bit of everyone inside you, Charles, Raven, Rogue... their faces flashing like holy ghosts. You have too many constellations inside of you, all on the verge of erupting. It keeps him up at night, especially when you're curled up on your side of the bed, asleep and oblivious.

"You will save us, little one, you will be the savior we have longed for"

He feels the centuries rolling through him, desperately lost, trying to find his way back to a home he never even knew. Maybe that's why he kneels, brushing his lips across your knuckles tracing each vein in hopes that'll lead him back to a place he's only ever seen in his dreams. I'll stay lost, I'll wait for you to find me. He knows you will, you'll do anything for him. He's sure of it.

Genosha asks for a queen, demands it really. It's funny how these things work. Funny how those who rule the world are so intent on destroying it. Kingdoms aren't built in a day yet they can so easily be toppled in one. In turn, Magento asks you. Who else? It's his one cardinal tenet, you are the savior he could never be. The one his people, your people, need. Erik rolls your name between his lips, relishing as the syllables melt on his tongue. There's a magnetic pull to 'queen' it tastes like a hallowed prayer. "My queen" he whispers in your ear, his tongue sending sparks up the cartilage shell. Magneto pins you to his lap, keeping you tethered to his strong body. His fingers run lines up your hips indulging in your presence. You don't squirm although he suspects you want to. his lips lower, kissing your jugular and savoring the ungainly moan that slips past your pretty lips. "M-Magneto" He's only now realizing you've never called him by his birthname, maybe cause in some way you find it treacherous that he should bear such a human thing. He may see you as salvation, yet you've always gazed at him with the pietistic eyes of a zealous worshipper.

"Use your power, feel the magnetic pull flowing through you."

"You're overcomplicating it again, master, I just need to command that which I need lifted."

You've always been a rebellious student. The sardonic irony isn't lost on him, Magneto finds it fitting that he should master such an intricate pupil.

He wonders if you can forgive him for the bodies he's scattered in your name. From this far up he doubts you notice the broken bodies littering the concrete. He'll do it all again, anything to keep your distractions at bay. His kind needs a leader, not another sanctimonious hero.

You will be their savior.

You will be his queen.

♠️🂱♠️Gambit - Remy Lebeau | گمبیت - رمی لیبو

Remy wonders if the king ever longs to be stacked with the queen. Holding his breath every time the cards are shuffled. Praying that this time, this time for sure, he'll be next to her. Gambit's holding his breath too. There's a lively lilt when you giggle, he wonders if you truly grasp how much he means every word. "Mon Cheri, you know you're the only one for me." It sounds so childish, so jejune and Gambit knows he's too old for school-boy crushes. But he can't help it, he's desperate too, just another aspirant king vying for the attention of his red queen.

You once told him the blacks of his eyes remind you of a starry night sky back home. He thinks about that too much. About the sting of your hand on his shoulder and how good it felt sitting crooked in his bones. So that's why an ace surpasses the king. There is only, one who holds power. Maybe it's never been about the queen or the king or the royal house. It's been the Ace all along. Remy only has one heart, he knows he only has one ace too. There was an ace of hearts on your nightstand this morning, you don't recall how it got there.

Remy's kisses are too explosive, they hold all the weight of a dying star. Yet the force never ceases, it feeds off the detonations only growing stronger, you think you'll be consumed in this kinetic nova he calls love.

-`X´- Cyclops - Scott Summers | سیکلوپ - سکات سامرز

There's a shutter of loneliness crawling up his spine. He knows you feel it too. Scott bends and breaks under its crushing weight. You've always been there, tangible, solid. You're the living metaphor for a rock in a raging river. He just can't find the right words yet. You can't see his eyes, you can't withstand his power. But you can be there holding his hand through it all.

'Is this selfishness'? Scott wonders and he kisses you under a dying moon. He's never had anything to call his own, nothing that stayed for long anyway. He's snuffed out his desires his whole life. His place is with the X-men, playing the no-choice hero of a thankless story. But you, you're still here, you never left. Even now you stand still as his lips taint yours. He feels your fear, undue thing that it is. But he can't let you go not when everything is always marred in endless red monochrome and melancholy. Not when the only blessing the universe had ever given him comes in the shape of you. He's so tired of only ever knowing the life of a perfect toy soldier. 'Stay' he begs you between each kiss, each touch. Please just stay. Ease his pain.

☽✭☾ Wolverine - Logan Howlett | ولورین - لوگان هاولت

He's been alive longer than he cares to count. Running from one hell to another. He remembers your ghost, essence weaving between places too blurred to be graced with a name. But he remembers you, he swears he does. It's just that time is so fickle and so few can withstand its crushing tides.

"How have you been, Logan?"

"I..ah... fine, just fine."

When he looks at you he can't believe the changes. There's no trace of the rosy cheecked little girl who used to chase demons in the snowbanks. Playing hide and seek with every stray in the neighborhood. That's good, he thinks, he likes this refined dignitary better, somehow it brings out your eyes. There's a feral gaze when he looks at you, he thought he was over that. He feels the pulsing of his heart reverberate through his claws. It brings back something less than memories, something nostalgic, yet all so distant it may as well have been the sent of his childhood home. It's not right he thinks, as his claws trace your curves trying to feel something he knows is lost. You quiver, trying to make yourself smaller and he knows, he knows he shouldn't do this. But there are just so many pieces missing and he's never tried to look for any of them. Maybe just this once he can delude himself into remembering.

˚ʚ★ɞ˚ Nightcrawler - Kurt Wagner | شب خزنده - کورت واگنر

Not too long ago this used to be fine. He's always been better within shadows, letting the soft dark weave around his body. Obscurity has always felt like a second home, a haven in everything but consistency. You speak in italics, talking and talking without understanding what he shoulders. If he didn't deem it blasphemy, Kurt would gladly dub himself Eros.

You would be Psyche. Oblivious, sweet Psyche.

Kurt longs to kiss your cheek, he knows it'll only starve him for more. He wonders how soft your hands will feel. If you'll You cradle his face nails tracing the sharp point of his ears, his fangs, the jagged scar he got from dreaming of you in the danger room. Will you grace him with a kiss? Something to relinquish the anguish stirring within. This should be fine, you're talking to him, laughing with him as he remains hidden within the dark. And yet how can he see this as anything less than retribution? You're so close, just a breath away. If only he could reach out and...

۵𓋹۵ Apocalypse - En Sabah Nur | آپآکلپژ- ان صباح نور

Your heartbeat sounds all too familiar. He used to hear it a thousandfold walking down the Bazaar's street. It's dead now, the noise, the rapture, the music. He wonders what went right for your heart to beat to such a lost tune? He remembers once hearing that pain travels through families until it lands on the right generation. He's glad fate picked you. He's glad you share the same ancient burdens.

He puts the stars in the sky.

You've been warned against worshipping false idols so blindly.

Yet how can one not fall at his feet?

He who makes the earth tremble and mighty cower.

He who seems to know everything you do not.

Your fingers thread through his hair. It's too black, like staring at a moonless sky in December. You wonder if the eternal ebony is what gives Apocolypse his cynical edge. He laughs at the comment as he melts into your familiar touch."Thank you" he mutters. His pride laces every word twisting them into something metaphysical. Nur wonders if you catch the true sentiment behind the words. If the sand and stars make it through.

You're too archaic for this time Nur thinks as he watches you run across the fields. The other mutants are there, persistent in the games you all play. In his time he'd have already declared you his wife. Do you know the ancient ceremonies? Would you have gifted him gold or flesh? The yearning builds in his throat. Maybe he should have stayed dead.

Apocolypse lingers the days away in your room, plotting, scheming. You keep him hidden like a blood secret. He's the only one who seems to understand where your power comes from, where you come from. " I could win against you...someday" Your fingers glow igniting a forgotten glow, Nur can't help but laugh as he traces the curve of your spine. " I don't doubt you could, beloved." His blue lips are the length of your neck. Everything about you screams dead nostalgia. You've followed him through lifetimes. Smiling as you dragged him across the sand dunes just to watch the sunset. How he longs to carve you open and feel your heart between his teeth.

He's choking on sand.

Drowning in stardust.

Nur feels like he's swallowed the sun whole. Devoured Ra and spat out his holy bones. He still feels the sting of its rays seeping through his teeth. He's divinity and desperation are all in the same breath. Apocalypse and Nur are just two sides of the same daric. You stand in front of him, tracing the blues of his face, kissing the reds of his eyes. An excavation into the lost, unearthing that which could collapse the world. You enjoy him, savor him, keeping his gold essence on your tongue locked behind rose-tinted lips. You beg Nur to dig through your bones, open you up, unseal every crypt. He obliges, kissing the hollow of your bones until his teeth graze your unsteady heart.

"And what will you do once you meet the real world?"

"Oh, nothing, the real world will have to meet me first."

There is so much blood, he doesn't remember doing this. You stand beside him watching the sand in the hourglass run out. He is Apocolypse bringer of destruction, the end of worlds, funny how he needed you, frail sweet thing that you are, to remind him of this. It's only when he looks at you, really really looks at you that he realizes how many things are still the same. Twisted deformed yet still they harbor their old shapes. Apocolypse kisses you under the shade of a palm tree hoping it'll mean something in the end.

Hoping everything can just go back.

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roosterforme · 7 months

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How You Play the Game Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You find more comfort in Bradley's home and in his arms than anywhere else. But time is ticking down, and only a win by the Angels on Saturday evening will give you more of both. Bradley tries to make a compelling argument, because he knows it's finally time to start speaking his mind.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, angst, oral and smut (18+)

Length: 7600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You woke with a small jump as soft lips and a bristly mustache met your cheek. "Bradley?" you mumbled as his deep chuckle next to your ear made you shiver. When you started to push the covers off and open your eyes, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm leaving for work, but you should stay in bed. You deserve a day off."

Now you were looking up at him standing next to his bed in his khaki uniform with all of his pins and his name tag. And he looked so good, you knew you were staring. It was almost startling seeing him like this when you were so used to all the Padres shirts and snug fitting jeans. Most of the people in his life were probably more used to this look. The Lieutenant Bradshaw look. But it was rendering you speechless.

"Can I come to work with you today?" you asked him, earning another chuckle. Spending the day at his house doing your laundry, relaxing and eating everything in his refrigerator sounded actually pretty perfect, but you'd just rather be doing all of that with him here, too.

"It's not Take the sports writer you're completely infatuated with to work day."

Now you were the one laughing as you set up in bed and reached for him. "When's that day? I'll make sure I'm off."

He kissed you sweetly as his hand found your hip. "I think it's in April."

You were giggling against his smiling lips when he suddenly groaned. "I need to go. Text me if you need anything? Or if you just want to distract me?"

"I will."

"See ya, Ace."

When you heard the front door open and then close, you rolled over in his bed and buried your face in his pillow. Then you squeezed it to your body. Bradley smelled incredible, especially since you were so used to the sterile bleach scent of hotel bedding and the stale air of ballpark press boxes. You wished you could bottle this up and take it on the road with you. Take a little bit of Bradley wherever you went.

Before that thought could take further shape, you climbed out of his bed and shivered in just his TOP GUN tee shirt. Since he told you to make yourself comfortable, you allowed yourself to root around in his dresser drawers in search of a pair of socks. Your eyes caught on the frame of his mirror hanging over the dresser, and you smiled at your reflection as you reached up and touched the ticket from game one. It was the media pass he won from the radio program, and you traced the corners of it before you sat on his bed and put on a pair of his comically large socks.

It was early, but you were hungry, and you found a fully stocked refrigerator when you went to the kitchen. Bradley's home was a treasure trove of things that were normal for other people but not for you: bedding that smelled like heaven and a delicious assortment of fresh food. You pulled out a container of berries and then found oatmeal in his cabinets. Your stomach was growling loudly as you poured yourself some coffee from the pot he left out for you.

You sat on his living room couch with your breakfast and looked out the window. It was probably always this sunny here, always this inviting. Bradley's cottage was easily five times the size of your apartment, which you rarely thought about beyond it being a place to hold all of your things that didn't really matter. You didn't have time for stuff; just the clothes on your back and your computer.

When you finished the last bite of oatmeal, you felt tears in your eyes. You were so lonely. You were so tired of forcing yourself to work harder and harder to make up the deficit between yourself and your colleagues. You just wanted to hide here, in San Diego, with Bradley. You felt safe and desirable, and he wasn't yelling at you or telling you that you needed to go to Boston.

You took a deep breath as you went to the kitchen sink with your bowl and mug. There were a few other dishes there, so you washed everything for him and set them out to dry. It had been years since you hadn't done at least a little bit of work on a day off, so you went to get your computer out of his bedroom. But it smelled too good, so you carried your computer back to his bed and snuggled in where you could work on the beginning of your next article before the game tomorrow afternoon.

Your inbox was completely filled with offers from recruiters with other newspapers and online outlets. You knew some of them would send you a job offer in an instant without even asking you to interview with them. Some of them had even managed to corner you when you were on the job; they knew your schedule as well as you did. You were always sent to the most high profile matches and events. And while some aspects of what they were offering you sounded very enticing, you were already at The New York Times.

After you took some deep breaths, you deleted all of them and opened up a blank document and got to work. But you didn't get far before you closed your laptop, because writing baseball stats was a lot more fun when you were sitting on Bradley's lap. You decided to text him.

How's work?

Then you remembered he told you that you could check out his collection of baseball cards in the garage. You jumped out of bed and walked down the short hallway, peeking in the extra bedroom on the way. You opened one door, but it was just a linen closet which he actually had organized by color, which you found charming. The next door led you out to the small, attached garage which was also very tidy. You looked at everything on his shelves before you found some boxes that said Nick Bradshaw- Baseball Cards. The marker was very faded on the cardboard, so you slid the first one down very carefully.

When you carried it back inside to the living room, you felt your phone vibrate in your hand. Once you set the box down, you saw that you had a new message from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: Work is not as fun as playing hooky with you. What are you up to, Baby?

You took a selfie with the box of baseball cards which you assumed had belonged to his father. You added the caption 'About to dig through these and swoon all over your living room.'

The collection was impressive to say the least. You didn't collect cards, because you didn't have the time or space for them, but you knew which of his were valuable when you looked through them. You thought about how much fun it would be to organize these a little better with him. Your phone was vibrating again.

Bradley Bradshaw: You look gorgeous. Send me another picture?

You sent him another selfie, and then he asked for another one. This game went on and on until lunchtime when you decided to mess with him a little bit.

Now send me one, and you'll get something sexy in return.

He didn't respond immediately, and you figured he must be busy. You made a sandwich for lunch and ate it with some potato chips. Then you found his washer and dryer in a little closet across from the bathroom door and started a load of your dirty clothes. And then you got ready to get in the shower.

Your phone vibrated on the sink vanity, so you grabbed it before you stepped under the spray of hot water. And you almost dropped it when you saw a set of two photos of Bradley out in the bright sunlight in his uniform. In the first one, he was wearing some aviator sunglasses and smirking. In the second one, the sunglasses were gone, and he was smiling.

"Fuck," you moaned as you looked at the photos, making sure you didn't get your phone wet.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now where's my sexy Ace?

Before you could tell yourself what a big mistake you were making, you snapped a photo of yourself, water cascading down your breasts and a grin on your face. You sent it with the caption 'You look so good in those aviators, I'm about to start touching myself.'

You were standing there thinking about it. Your nipples were hard, and you were thinking about the scratch of Bradley's mustache on your skin. But his next message had your hand pausing before you could touch your clit.

Bradley Bradshaw: Jesus Christ, Baby. How am I supposed to focus when you send me something that good? Don't you dare touch yourself. I want you dialed up to eleven for me when I get home.

And now you were a whimpering mess as you tried to shower without letting yourself get off, wishing you had brought some sexy underwear on this trip with you.

-----------------------------

Well now Bradley was a mess, thinking about your body while he was supposed to be listening to a safety demonstration out on the tarmac. Why had he bothered to come to work today? He should have taken a second day off and spent it with you.

But you were leaving soon, and that was why he decided to try to keep to his normal routine. And you were exhausted whether you thought so or not, so he wanted you to have time to relax and unwind.

"Hey," Nat whispered, nudging his arm. "You okay?"

Bradley sighed and nodded, and then he held up his phone with a photo of you with the baseball cards for her to see. Nat pushed him a little further away from the group and hissed, "She's at your house? Are you insane?"

"Nat," he started, running his hand through his hair. "I know-"

"No, I don't think you do, Rooster. You're going to get your heart broken."

He nodded and looked down at their feet. "It's already unavoidable at this point. And she makes me feel so good."

His best friend sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know you're supposed to come to the Hard Deck for Mickey's birthday tonight, right?"

His plan was to bring you along, buy you a few drinks, maybe dance to the horrible collection of songs in the jukebox with you. "Yeah," he replied. "I'll come if she wants to join me, but I don't want you giving her the stink eye all night."

She scoffed. "I'll be perfectly nice to her."

Bradley shook his head, starting to get pissed off. "Will you though? See, the thing is, I'd like to think that I'm not the only one headed for some heartbreak here, Nat. I'd like to think she feels the same way I do. Like maybe I'm too good to be true, too. And maybe spending time with me now is worth the pain later."

Her face softened immediately. "You are, Rooster. You're too good to be fucking true. I promise I'll be nice. At the Hard Deck and next week if you want to talk about it then."

After that, Bradley just left early instead of hanging out on the tarmac with the others. He skipped the showers since he'd barely even done anything today. Then he could get home sooner and see you and just shower there. When he climbed in the Bronco, he texted to let you know he was on his way. And then he sat there with his key hovering next to the ignition.

You'd be gone by Monday morning. This was the only time he'd ever get to tell you he was on his way home to you. More than anything, he wanted to know if you were falling in love like he was. He wanted to know if there was even a tiny part of you that wanted to stay.

Ace: Hurry! I'm making dinner. And you should keep those aviators on when you get here... I'm dialed up to eleven.

He shoved the key into the ignition. He was pretty dialed up as well, but he knew it was at least in part because his heart was invested. He lived so close to base, it only took him a few minutes to get home. When he reached to remove his sunglasses and leave them in the cup holder, he smiled. Then he dashed up the walkway to his front door with his keys in hand and his aviators perched on his nose.

You were right there when he walked inside, wearing one of his favorite tropical print shirts and a pair of his socks and a bright smile. His house seemed more inviting than it ever had before. It even smelled like you were making something delicious. And then you were in his arms, and his hands were inside the unbuttoned shirt all over your soft skin.

"I missed you. Been thinking about how good you look in this thing all day long," you moaned, running your hands up and down the front of his uniform shirt. "But the sunglasses make it magical."

"I missed you, too." Bradley kissed you as your hands made their way slowly down to his pants. "You had me dialed up all day and I wasn't even with you." He wanted to ask you so many questions right now, but you were kissing his mustache and bumping his sunglasses with your nose while you wrapped your hand around his cock and started jerking. And then he couldn't remember anything except how happy you made him.

When you sank to your knees in front of him, Bradley yanked his aviators lower on his nose. You were smiling up at him as you yanked his pants down a little lower and licked away the bead of his precum before you kissed his tip. "Why is this so hot with you in your uniform, Lieutenant?"

Bradley groaned loudly as you took a few inches of him with a smirk. "Why is this so hot with you in my shirt and socks?"

You popped him free and giggled. "All my clothes are in your washing machine. Even my underwear."

"I love that for myself," he grunted as you took him deep. With gentle fingers, he stroked your face as you gave him head in his living room. It was like some depraved housewife fantasy, the way you felt so familiar to him. The way he could smell dinner cooking. The way you bobbed your head and moaned for him.

You sucked on his balls and ran your tongue slowly back and forth as you looked up at him. You had one hand wrapped around his length, and you were touching your tits with the other. Your gaze was the neediest thing he had ever seen as he stroked your cheek. Every time you released him, he groaned for you, and then you just started sucking on him again. He could feel himself tightening up as you kissed his balls and whimpered.

"Fuck," he growled, hauling you to your feet and getting his lips back on yours as you gasped in surprise. "I wanna fuck you."

"Please," you gasped, nodding and looking toward the couch.

He shook his head and lifted you up with both hands on your bare ass. "In my bed, Ace."

"That's even better," you whispered, sucking on his neck and raking your fingers through his hair. "Your bedroom smells like you. I love it in there."

"Fuck," he grunted again, his cock slapping against your ass as he carried you to his bed. And then you were on your back with your head on his pillow as he took off his aviators and tossed them down next to you. His shirt was hanging open on you, and his socks looked ridiculously adorable on your feet, and your legs were spread wide, your pussy already so wet for him. "You are the hottest thing I have ever seen," he announced before burying his face in your pussy and making you scream his name.

"Bradley!" you screeched and gasped over and over again as he got his face all wet from you before bringing his lips up to yours for a kiss. His uniform pins were brushing against your breasts and you were grinding your pussy against his cock.

"Shit," he gasped, pulling your lip between his teeth and releasing it. "Where are the condoms?"

"In my suitcase in the hallway," you whimpered. "Skip it if you want. I have an IUD."

And if Bradley thought he was losing his mind ten seconds ago, it was nothing compared to letting himself slip inside your warm, wet pussy with no protection at all. "Ace," he rasped, watching your face as he pushed himself deeper until your back arched off the bed. He fucked you with his hands on your hips until your legs were shaking. You had your hands all over his face, continuously pulling him in for kisses.

"You feel so good," you gasped, running your feet along his thighs.

He pressed his lips to your ear and asked, "Are you getting close for me?"

"Yes," you moaned, reaching for his hand and drawing it up to your lips. You sucked on his fingers for a few seconds, taking him painfully close to the edge, and then you pressed his fingers to your clit.

He worked in quick strokes, listening to the sounds you made as you got louder. When you pulled him closer for more kisses, he indulged you before he said, "I wanna watch you come for me, Baby."

And then you did. You came apart with his fingers on your body and his name on your lips. Your face was beautiful as you gasped and babbled nonsense as your pussy drained every drop of cum from him. You were perfect as you reached for him and said, "Now you better kiss me."

You and he had your lips all over each other for so long after you both caught your breath that he was surprised and delighted all over again when he started to pull out of you and remembered he came inside you.

"You're blushing," you whispered as you looked up at him on his knees between your legs.

His cum was slowly oozing out of your opening and dripping down to your ass. "Baby, if you could see what I see, you'd understand." He was transfixed. Obsessed. He leaned down to kiss your pussy and taste himself there, licking along your skin with a soft grunt.

You propped yourself up on your elbow and tugged him by his hair, and he just knew you wanted to taste it, too. So he kissed you, letting you suck on his tongue. Then he jerked away from you and turned toward the door.

"Is something burning?"

-----------------------------

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Bradley said for the hundredth time as you sat on his couch with him eating pizza. "This isn't as good as yours would have been."

You just laughed. "Seriously, this is probably better. I'm not great at cooking. I was just trying to impress you."

Why exactly, you weren't sure. What difference did it make to Bradley if you could cook a chicken casserole that was good or not? He wasn't yours to impress. You weren't going to be here past Sunday night at the very latest, and that was only if the Angels won game six tomorrow.

"I'm impressed," he replied, his cheeks a little pink again.

"Yeah," you said, trying to push your feelings to the back burner. "I could tell how impressed you were with me in your bedroom."

"That's not what I meant," he said, looking down at his lap with a frown that made your heart ache. You tossed your pizza crust into the box and climbed on his lap. You and he had taken a quick shower together after he called in a pizza order, and now you were both in your own clothing.

You kissed him and tried to change the subject. "What time are we leaving for the bar?" you asked.

When he met your eyes again, he said, "We can go whenever. And we don't have to stay long. Just long enough to say happy birthday to my friend and have a drink?"

You could hardly believe he wanted to take you with him. His friends would want details about who you were and why you were together, so you would just follow his lead.

It was a short drive in his cool Bronco to the bar, and he sang along to the radio and held your fingers laced with his the whole way. And then he paraded you inside with him like it was the most natural thing the two of you could be doing. "That's Mickey, the birthday boy wearing the blue Captain America shirt. And that's my best friend Natasha wearing the annoyed expression because someone is talking to her."

You laughed, and he leaned down to kiss you as you walked toward the pool table. As you walked past the bar to meet everyone, you noticed the bartender's gaze following you and Bradley as you went. Her expression was one of curiosity as she mixed a drink.

"Ace, this is Nat," Bradley was saying, and you turned in time to grasp hands with the woman that he referred to as a 'mean little spitfire'.

"It's nice to meet you," Natasha replied. She didn't look happy exactly, but she didn't look like she was upset that you were here. "I've heard a lot about you."

You looked up at Bradley, a little surprised. "Oh. I've heard a lot about you, too. Bradley said you're smarter than all the guys."

She nodded and smiled. "Yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for acknowledging it, Rooster. You two want drinks?" she asked.

"Go ahead," Bradley replied. "We'll get some in a minute."

"Hey, Rooster!" Mickey shouted as he waved in between taking shots.

You laughed. "I don't know if I'd ever get used to everyone using your call sign," you told him. "It's so amusing to me."

Then Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer. He kissed your forehead softly, but he looked serious. "If you stick around in San Diego, I bet you'd get used to it, Ace."

You swallowed hard as you looked up into his brown eyes. You could tell he was being sincere, which made everything hurt a little more. But you were saved by the group of guys all calling for him. Bradley sighed and kissed your forehead one more time before you and he were absorbed by the group.

A few minutes later, your head was swirling with names and faces when Bradley asked, "Do you want me to get you a drink?"

"I'll come with you," you told him, and he nodded before taking your hand a little hesitantly. You were confused, because then he wrapped his arm around you just like he always did, and his fingers were softly stroking your side through your shirt. But then when the bartender turned your way, it clicked. She and Bradley had slept together before. You could just tell.

"Hey, Bradley," she said, already reaching for a pint glass and pouring what must have been his usual beer. The way she looked at him and talked to him was just a tiny bit too familiar.

"Hey," he grunted before turning your way. "What do you want to drink, Baby?"

You met the bartender's eyes and couldn't help but smile as Bradley brushed his lips along your temple. You weren't his, but he was choosing you right now. And it felt incredible. "I'll have the same thing," you told her before turning your face so he could kiss your lips.

Bradley dug out his wallet without really looking at her, and she ran his credit card as you sipped your beer. He wasn't being a jerk, and she didn't seem overly jealous, but you just knew they had a past.

Then the two of you threw some darts and played some pool, and Bradley was more than happy to point out that mini golf was probably your worst game. "Happy to see you can handle a pool cue better than a putter," he whispered with a grin.

"Be nice, or I'll leave my golf ball behind at your place," you replied.

He looked a little sad as he shook his head. "I want you to keep that." You knew you would, and he knew you would. You could picture the perfect spot for it in your apartment, but you already knew it would never make it there. You'd keep packing that stupid blue golf ball from your date with him in your luggage and take it everywhere with you.

"Can we go now?" he asked suddenly, his face a little sad. "Back to my place?"

"Yeah," you agreed, and after a round of goodbyes, he led you back past the bar with his arm around you. The bartender tracked your movements, but you didn't care. He was yours right now, the way he was touching you.

And he was yours when you got back to his house, the way you were touching him. "Ace," he sighed as you rode him in his bed. His body was delicious, but his voice was what had you a mess. "Baby, you're so good. Can't get enough of those little noises. Keep going." The feel of him once again inside you without a condom as he verbally coaxed you to orgasm was only part of what you knew you were going to miss.

Because the rest of it came next, when he was curled up with you in the dark, quiet room, his arm draped around you, pulling you close. The only sounds were his breath next to your ear and his deep whisper. "Night, Baby."

-----------------------

"Stay in bed," Bradley whispered again. It was Saturday. Game six was this evening, and he was trying his hardest to draw you back to him again. He had successfully made you snuggle in and fall asleep with him again after the first time you woke up.

"You'll mess up my sleep cycle for when I'm in Boston," you murmured before you snuggled against him with the covers pulled up to your chin. "But you're so warm."

Bradley indulged in a brief fantasy where you would fly out to Boston, complete your assignment, and then fly back to San Diego to be with him until you had to go somewhere else. And you'd be here when he got home from a long deployment. Ready to take him to bed and hold him just like this.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked as you ran your nails along his cheek and kissed his nose.

He couldn't tell you, no matter how much he wanted to. "Thinking about how I'm still the worst Padres fan ever. The Angels better win today. We deserve seven games, Ace."

"We do," you agreed, and Bradley was delighted that you fell asleep in his arms again.

When you and he finally got out of bed, you went to his dresser and pulled on one of his tee shirts like this was a normal occurrence. "Will you let me make you breakfast?" you asked with a smile.

"I was going to make breakfast for you," he replied, patting your ass on his way to the bathroom. "But we could make something together."

You were already in the kitchen, kneeling on the countertop and looking in his cabinets when he came out of the bathroom. "Do you have chocolate chips?" you asked. "We can make chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, maybe some oatmeal. Sorry, I'm just so excited for something other than a free continental breakfast."

He wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you down as you squeaked. "Not up there," he whispered, kissing your neck as he set you on the floor. "In the pantry."

You turned and scampered across the kitchen, and now Bradley was sincerely hoping he had all the ingredients you'd need for pancakes just so he could make you happy right now. "Found them!" you announced, holding up a bag with a smile that made him weak.

"Let's get started."

It was too much fun being with you. The pancakes you made turned out beautifully, and you and he ate on his couch again. This time he accidentally dripped maple syrup on his bare abs since he wasn't wearing a shirt. "I feel like you did that on purpose so I'd either buy you another shirt or lick it off of you."

He smirked. "I mean, I wouldn't be mad if you did."

You sighed dramatically as you set your plate on the coffee table next to the box of baseball cards. "Fine. Extra large shirt? You want the Padres this time?" Bradley laughed at your words, and then you leaned down and licked him clean as you looked up at him. Then you climbed into his lap and kissed him.

"The Angels better win tonight," he murmured against your lips. "I need them to."

"Do you want to go back to bed?" you asked, and he carried you there, expecting maybe some more tongue exploration. But what he got was you curling up in his arms again, your lips pressed to his chest. You were quiet for a bit before you asked him softly, "What would it be like being in a relationship with you?"

This was an echo of his question from Thursday night, and now he could appreciate that he had really put you on the spot then. How could he describe something spectacular that he wasn't going to get to experience with you, in a way that would make you remember him fondly. Bradley made sure his breathing was calm and even as he said, "Probably just like this, Ace. A whole lot of this right here."

You didn't say anything for a long time, and you kept your face buried against him. But eventually you nodded and said, "I would like that."

-------------------------

When Bradley held your hand during the game at Petco Park, everything seemed a bit more somber today. The press box was quieter than usual even though the crowd was going crazy. During the seventh inning stretch, when you leaned in close and kissed his cheek, Quincy turned around and asked, "You bring him to every game now?" as he nodded at Bradley.

"He's my intern and my sex slave, Quince. And that's strictly on the record."

But Quincy was undeterred today even as you and Bradley laughed quietly together. "Heard Greg was thinking about pulling you out of here early to send you to the Bruins? He only pays you so much because you're useful to him. Being a woman and all."

Bradley watched your head snap to face Quincy with a look of barely concealed rage. "Try not to cry too hard over the fact that I make more money than you even though you're twice my age."

Quincy grunted and muttered, "Same old, same old with you. Always gotta be on top. Always gotta get the last word in."

Bradley watched you press your lips together like you were trying your hardest to not have the last word right now. It was obvious that wasn't why you made it as far as you had. It was also obvious Quincy was trying to bait you. Bradley just felt a little bit bad that he could be used as ammunition against you. "You want something to drink, Ace?"

When you nodded, Bradley stood and went to get you a water bottle. "Thanks," you muttered, looking down at your keyboard as he handed it to you.

"Hey, don't let these assholes get to you," he whispered as he slipped back down into his seat.

He was drawing little shapes along your back with his fingers as you looked up at him in surprise. "I don't fucking care about Quincy.... the Padres are up three to zip." You laughed sardonically. "You know I'll have to leave in the morning if they win, right?" you asked him.

Bradley nodded. He couldn't even say the words out loud. So he focused on the game and held your hand tight. The Padres were using their relief pitcher a little early, and he looked fatigued. His pitches were wild, and he was walking batter after batter. Then right at the top of the eight inning, Bradley heard the crack of a perfectly hit ball.

"That's a grand slam," you whispered before the ball was even beyond the fence. Instead of marking it down on your stat sheet, you tossed your pencil aside and kissed him. "Angels up by one run," you said against his lips.

"They need to hold the lead," he replied, letting his forehead rest against yours. "They need to. I don't care who wins the World Series, but they need to do it in game seven, not game six."

His words made you smile so much, he wrapped his arm around you to keep you as close as he could. And when the final score was the Padres with three runs and the Angels with four, you were practically on his lap. You were even smiling when Greg called you a minute later to tell you to get to Boston first thing on Monday morning after game seven on Sunday night.

"I'll have to book my flight," you said to Bradley as everyone started to flood out of the press box ahead of the crowd. "But we have two more nights together instead of just one."

You and he were quiet after that, your fingers laced together as you walked out to the parking lot and rode back to his house. He didn't feel like he needed to rush right now as he unlocked his front door and followed you inside. You pulled him in for a kiss that was so sweet, he was surprised. Just your arms around his neck and your lips moving gently on his.

"We have some time before my midnight deadline. Can we get changed and snuggle in bed like earlier?" you asked him, your eyes closed as your lips hovered near his. "I want to change into your Padres jersey."

Bradley had goosebumps on his skin as he whispered, "It's your Padres jersey now."

You looked so damn pleased with yourself as you ran toward his bedroom, shedding your clothes on the way. Bradley undressed down to his underwear while you did the same and then slipped his jersey on before heading for his dresser. "Your floor's cold," you mumbled as you grabbed a pair of his socks and put them on before jumping into his bed. "And now I look ridiculous."

Bradley shook his head as he stared at you. He'd been holding back enough, and he just didn't want to do it anymore. "Nah, Ace, you look... like everything I want."

"Bradley," you whispered, pulling his blanket up over your face. "You can't."

He slipped in bed and burrowed under the blanket with you. Your eyes were bright as you looked at him in the dim bit of light. "I can't help it," he replied, and you eased yourself into his arms. "There's nobody like you. You're the Ace for a reason."

"God," you whimpered, kissing his lips and his cheeks, and teasing your fingers through his hair. Your palms were warm on his cheeks as you traced every single scar and the curve of his lips. You ran your nose along his mustache, and you just snuggled closer and closer to him. "I can't think straight when I'm with you. It's like, I feel like I could..."

"Like you could what, Baby?" he begged. He needed you to finish that sentence, but you didn't. You just kissed him until you were the one begging and pleading. It was so easy to give you what you wanted right now, because he wanted it, too. He yanked his underwear down and pulled yours to the side, and when he slipped inside you, he watched you pull the blankets down. And now he could see you a little better, and you really were exactly what he wanted.

It was slow and sweet, and he knew he'd never feel this good with anyone else. He didn't want to let you go. He held your thigh on his hip and rocked into you, thrusting as he thought 'stay, stay, stay'.

"Bradley," you moaned, pushing him onto his back and riding him until you came. He was afraid he was saying exactly what he was thinking now as words like need and permanent surfaced in his mind while he babbled. You told him to cum inside you again, so he did. And when you curled up on his chest, he kissed the top of your head.

Your lips were on his neck as you silently ran your fingers through his hair. "Ace," he whispered, but you just shook your head. So he pressed his lips together and rubbed his hands up underneath the jersey, and you shivered against him.

A few minutes later, when he was nearly soothed to sleep with his cock still nestled inside you, Bradley felt your body jerk. "Oh no. What time is it?" you gasped. You climbed off of him abruptly, a look of panic on your face as you searched for your phone. "Fuck!"

Bradley climbed out of bed as you fumbled your phone and ran for your computer which was charging on his chair. His cum was on his abs and your legs, but you didn't stop to get cleaned up before you ran for his kitchen table. "What can I do to help?" he asked as he followed you.

"Nothing," you snapped, booting up your computer. It was almost 11:30, and Bradley wasn't sure exactly how much you'd written before and during the game; he had been too concerned about the Angels winning tonight.

He got you some water and whispered, "I can help you proofread it," but you didn't respond. You just typed away frantically while he hovered around the living room, glancing in your direction constantly. Your brow was creased in frustrated determination, and Bradley felt like an asshole for not suggesting that you or he set an alarm before climbing in bed. Because he could absolutely lose all track of time when he was with you, whether you and he were fucking, talking or cuddling. And he knew it.

When he looked at the clock on the microwave, he winced. It was nearly midnight, and you were still typing and looking at your stat sheet. "Anything I can do?" he asked again, but you just shook your head, so he went to the bathroom. He got himself cleaned up and then just leaned on the sink vanity with his head cradled in his hands.

Fuck. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel any stress when you were with him. He felt like an idiot. When he finally returned to the table, the clock said 12:01 and you were still typing. He was waiting for your phone to ring. Greg would be calling you to start screaming any second now. And he had to stand there and watch it all unfold. You submitted your article at 12:07, and you looked up at him with sad yet determined eyes before you answered your ringing phone.

"Greg," you said, your voice sounding strong and sure even though your face was defeated. And then Greg was hollering nonstop as you held the phone a few inches away from your ear. Bradley hated it so much. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and then your cheek while Greg reminded you not too kindly that you missed your deadline by seven minutes. Then Bradley cupped your face in his hands and held eye contact with you while you told Greg it wouldn't happen again before you ended the call.

The silence was almost deafening as you held your phone and looked up at him. Bradley swallowed hard, but his voice was still a harsh whisper as he said, "I hate it when he yells at you."

You shook your head and grimaced as tears filled your eyes. "Well, I missed my deadline, so he had every right to-"

"No," Bradley said, dropping to his knees in front of you on his kitchen floor. "He doesn't, Ace. He shouldn't do that. It's just seven minutes."

"But it's a deadline for a reason," you supplied immediately, looking down into his face. "One minute is the same as seven is the same as sixty. It shouldn't happen at all."

Bradley scoffed. "So he sits up until three in the morning in New York just to call you and scream? That's fucked up."

You swiped at your eyes as you whispered, "I let myself get distracted by you. This is my fault. But when I'm with you, I can't think straight. Which is bad."

"Ace," he whispered helplessly as you cried. "But if we were together-"

"We can't be together," you told him. Your voice was soft and sorrowful, but it felt like a gunshot to Bradley. His ears were ringing from the sound of it. He could tell you were stubborn, but right now, he felt stubborn, too. It wasn't very often that he allowed himself to want something, and never on the scale of how badly he wanted you, but he thought right now it would be worth fighting for this.

"I've seen your email inbox," he whispered, and your eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't need Greg or the New York Times to be successful, Ace. You bring everything to the table, and clearly other people see that."

"Bradley," you said, shaking your head sadly. "It's the New York Times. The pinnacle. There's nowhere else for me to go that wouldn't be a step backwards in my career, and that's a fact. My job is important to me. Writing is important to me."

"But you're more than who you write for-"

You cut him off as you raised your voice. "You knew immediately who I was when you saw my name, because I work for The Times!"

Bradley buried his face against your thigh as he tried to will his heart to stop pounding so hard he could barely hear. He kissed you there before he looked up at you again in agony. "People would follow your writing anywhere, because you're that fucking good. Have you ever thought about writing for someone else?"

You swiped at your eyes as you whispered, "No." "Baby, you could make a big name for yourself on an independent platform. Your style is fun and it flows. You can find something better for yourself than the New York Times. This doesn't have to be that hard."

"It's not that easy either. I told you how it would be, Bradley," you said, your voice taking on a pleading tone. "You would hate it when I was away for long stretches. You would want someone else. Someone easy to be with. Someone who was always in San Diego."

"That's a fucking lie," he growled. "And you know it."

You were silent for a minute as your eyes settled on your lap. "New York is my home. I'm settled there. And you're settled here."

He felt sick. The words had too much finality. But you were waiting for him to confirm, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was let you down. "Yeah. I am." Then he realized he was crying as well when he reached up to cup your cheek again. You melted into his touch before you slid off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. "Ace. Look at you," he whispered, and you met his eyes as your lip quivered. "You're perfect. The perfect woman. I want to be with you. And I think you want to be with me, too."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he held you while you cried. "I'm sorry, Bradley," you murmured against his shoulder.

He knew you were scared to even think that something might be a better fit for you, and maybe he was wrong. Maybe it would be career suicide if you left your job. He didn't know a damn thing about it really. All he knew was everyone wanted you with them. Including him. It was hard for him to breathe as he asked, "What do you have in New York that you couldn't have in San Diego? Here. With me."

But you didn't answer him. You just stayed curled up on his lap until after one in the morning with your arms wrapped around him and his securely at your back. He tried his best to memorize how good and yet terrible this felt, because in a few days, he knew he'd probably give anything to feel you in his arms.

When you finally eased away from him and kissed his lips, you tried to smile as you said, "Let's just enjoy our last day together."

Bradley closed his eyes against the pain. "Sure, Ace."

--------------------------

All I feel right now is pain. I miss feeling joy. The final game is next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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blacknedsoul-blog · 8 months

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My bet on what Annabel wanted to do and why

So I'm reading the mansion arc again because the hiatus is over and that scene is coming back to me.

Now I have a whole theory as to why Annabel did what she did and for what. One of those "all or nothing" ones, but I thought it was interesting to share anyway.

The Background

The first thing to keep in mind is Annabel's role within her group: she's there to get information and to see herself as someone competent and worth following, but also as an agent of chaos in the shadows, actively trying to get them to fight each other (put a pin in that, because it's going to be important).

The whole scene where Montresor makes Ada bark introduces us to this guy, not as just any bully, but as someone extremely sadistic. While Annabel manages to get him to back down in the end, this makes it clear to her that he's a problem she needs to solve by yesterday, because, as if his sadism weren't enough, he's uncomfortably interested in Lenore.

The Amontillado

So she decides to take the first step to satisfy Montresor's thirst for blood by throwing someone under the bus, and unfortunately Duke is the most logical choice: Berenice and Eulalie share a room, Morella can manifest, and although Prospero is not Pluto's friend, he won't get involved in this kind of shady business. Duke, on the other hand, is an easy prey: he cannot manifest and shares a room with Montresor. It's all advantages.

But Annabel can't allow Montresor to commit murder outright. Not that she gives a shit about Duke's life, but if this guy finds out he can murder people in school, it's pretty certain that it will be impossible to push him back. Next it will be her, or worse, Lenore.

It's hard to tell if she suggested putting him behind a wall or just told Montresor, "Why get your hands dirty? I know you can be more creative." Either way, she's doing it to buy time: again, there's no upside to Duke dying, but maybe she can twist this in her favor somehow. And she needs to do it fast.

The Pendulum

The answer comes to her as if it fell from the sky with the pendulum, which is on the table as an object to be chosen during the test, and the stroke of luck is that it is Lenore who chooses it. So she keeps it: this was the piece she needed to turn the situation around.

Annabel knows where Duke is. And maybe our friend isn't far away either (there were five people moving through guarded corridors, one of them unconscious), so it's enough to get to where he is, break through the wall, and leave the pendulum aside so Duke can find his way back to school or join his friends more easily. After all, he'll have Pluto looking for him like crazy, and it would be absurd for him not to use his spectre for that. And if these people don't manage to hit the right spot, she has already discovered the pendulum's range during the test, she could do it herself without arousing suspicion.

The test is over. The Misfits get more and more desperate, Lenore is taken to Dreamland and Ada manifests only to fall into Montresor's arms. All of this actually suits her quite well, for one specific reason: Annabel wants to put a target on Montresor's back and make him doubt his "trusted" people.

Will's spectre can copy people's appearance, while Ada shared a team with Lenore during the test. Both could have stolen it. At the very moment Montresor discovers that the pendulum was used to save this guy, there will be doubt as to which of these two (whom he thinks he has in the palm of his hand) betrayed him. After all, they both seemed pretty uncomfortable with the situation.

Suspicious of Annabel? That was the look on her face as Duke desperately begged her to stop them.

Speaking of Duke, after he tells the rest of his friends what happened, Montresor would be an immediate target to confront…just like Annabel. But hey, "protect me from your allies and I'll protect you from mine," Lenore will avoid getting her guts ripped out (right?).

Maybe she found out she couldn't manifest after the test, so she left it until the next day. In this image, we are told that Annabel gets up ridiculously early, which is quite possible without anyone seeing her.

And while Pluto mentions that he still can't manifest again, let's remember that Annabel has a little more control over her spectre than he does.

Parenthesis: on the Widow Watch

The question here is: if this idiot had it all figured out and swears her wife is okay with all this crap, why not tell Lenore?

My answer is summarized in this picture:

Annabel is a long-term player, this girl doesn't care about Duke's safety, and his life only seems relevant to her because his death doesn't benefit her. She doesn't care about saving him, she cares about how saving him will distract Montresor from Lenore and allow her to take the first steps to get rid of him.

If Lenore runs off to save Duke (something Annabel thinks she will do out of guilt), the only thing she will accomplish is to make Montresor even more fixated on her and possibly blow Annabel's cover: it would be strange if they could suddenly find him easily without anyone telling them.

Another thing to consider is that Lenore arrives at the Widow's Watch in this state:

She may not have been able to see what happened to Montresor from up there because of how surprised she is, but Lenore's clothes are burned, and it doesn't take a genius to know who inflicted at least some of those wounds on her. All the more reason to try to keep Lenore out of this situation until the time is right.

House of Cards

One thing I really love about Annabel is that while many of the things she plans make sense, and indeed several of her predictions come true (such as the students not being able to manifest themselves by approaching Lenore), to quote her, she is not a mind reader. And watching her machinations unravel because of things she can't control is not only plausible, it's really interesting.

Especially when Lenore is the cause. Immovable object meets unstoppable force, and until they get their act together, this is doomed.

And disaster has arrived at that very moment.

The first thing that disarmed Annabel at this point, in my opinion, is that Lenore knew what she had done to Duke before she should have: without knowing her intentions, this looks like a completely deliberate and cold-bloodedly planned simple murder attempt. Annabel was confident that Lenore would understand as soon as she saw the pendulum, either as "I got our enemy off your back for now, but he won't stop" or, if I'm wrong and this woman has some self-awareness, as "I found no other way to get our enemy off your back, but I did everything I could to keep this man safe".

While the jokes about Annabel being a masochist are hilarious, on a serious note, I think it's appropriate to note that his complete failure to see how angry Lenore is is because she's never seen her this angry. Or worse, she's never seen her so angry at her. And she knows what Lenore is capable of in that state.

As if that weren't bad enough, her predictions were that Lenore would run to find Duke, but instead this woman picked up a revolver and walked right into the lion's den.

In other words, Annabel has not only failed catastrophically to keep Lenore away from Montresor, she has prompted her into a direct confrontation.

Everything she thinks she knows about her has just gone to hell.

The fallen queen

One last thing I think is interesting about the situation Annabel is in right now is that there is a threat she has no idea about. Annabel was counting on Lenore to protect her from her allies, but…

If Montresor has eyes, he knows. That means he only has to add 2+2 to see through Annabel's little games.

And the one person who could have protected her right now has no interest in what happens to her.

Hiatus over, people. I hope you're as anxious as I am.

#nevermore webtoon #lenore nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #white raven #lenore vandernacht #annabel lee whitlock #I love to see how everything goes wrong for characters that are 4 parallel universes above you #It makes them feel so human #If this woman doesn't die #it's more luck than talent #nevermore theory

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victoriadallonfan · 23 days

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Lets Talk: The Predator Franchise

About two months ago, I put my thoughts into my feelings on the Alien Franchise, and why I felt that they've been faltering so much.

It felt only fitting that I do the same for the Predator franchise, but I ran into a very curious thing... there's only one bad Predator movie.

A shocking statement, I know, but I'm not counting the AVP movie series (that's it's own separate thing). The Predator (film) is easily the only bad film in the entire series, but I'll get to that later.

First things first: lets talk about Predator (1987).

It's an all time classic, a great deconstruction of the 80's action film, with insanely quotable dialogue and memorable characters - not just the Predator itself, but all the human characters are easily recognizable.

Unlike the Alien (1979) and Aliens (1986), Predator is not predominantly a horror film, nor is it emphasizing a tough topic such as sexual assault. It does HAVE horror aspects (the first time they find the skinned corpses is intensely unnerving, especially when they realize that this group of marines apparently lost all self-control and fired in all directions), and it does touch a bit on how the US government is using its own soldiers as cannon fodder to destabilize third-world countries.

But it's not really built to scare the viewer so much as to present a simple idea: what if these action heroes met a bigger, stronger, more advanced version of themselves? And the result is a near total party wipe.

Watching the original film, you realize that the Predator is depicted as incredibly unfair. The majority of its kills are it sniping someone from afar, rushing them when they aren't even looking (while cloaked), and doing a combination of the above. It would have killed Arnold while his back was turned, if the net trap hadn't been set in place.

Hell, it even kills a wounded soldier that Arnold is carrying, after Billy's "last stand" (that lasted mere moments at best, implying the Predator didn't give him the time of day).

(Also, speaking of Billy... he's psychic? Apparently?)

But yeah, the Predator depicted is not the honor clad warrior that some fans may stan (and some writers believe) but more like the equivalent of Counter-Strike hacker. The fact that it takes Arnold untold amounts of traps, ingenuity, and willpower for the Predator to finally face him man to man, no tech, no weapons is meant to be a testament to how impressive Arnold is.

Likewise, the Predator decides to blow himself the fuck up while cackling manically like a supervillain as he tries to finally kill Dutch, also opens him to showing that as alien as it is, it's remarkably human. A spite filled asshole of a human, but humanish nonetheless (amplified by him copying human speech on prior occasions).

It's a really great film about how alien life, if more advanced than our own, might see us as lesser people or outright livestock to hunt (keep a pin in that).

Predator 2 (1990) is often divided amongst fans.

Some hate the fact that it takes place in the "modern day" LA, instead of sticking to the blazing heat of the jungle (as the lore of the first movie implies that the Predator or a Predator visits at the hottest time of the season to create the local bogeyman figure), but this film does a fine job justifying the LA heatwave and honestly... the idea of keeping the Predator to one type of biome is pretty limiting. So I don't mind that.

As one can tell already, I don't think this movie is bad. As good as the first? No, it rehashes a bit too much for that. But it's still a fun and good movie.

And, notably, scarier.

But for context, Predator 2 is set in the far future of... uh, 1997 LA, where there has been open warfare between the LAPD and the Jamaican and Colombian Cartels. Like, not drug busts or stings, but actual warfare with armies of gangs and shit.

The late 80's and early 90's loved to depict LA as a dystopian hellscape where "law and order" was the only defense from total anarchy (as anyone who has ever lived in LA can tell you, racial tensions, especially between the public and police have not been good to say the least).

This entire setup is like a D.A.R.E nightmare or wet dream depending on who's asking.

(Also the Jamaican drug leader, King Willy, might also be psychic? This is the last time it's brought up, but man, I sort of wish we could see future plot lines where people are randomly psychic in these films.)

Anyways, the situation is certainly perfect for this Predator (named City Hunter to differentiate between Jungle Hunter), who takes to the city with a gusto. The difference in how the Predator is portrayed is fascinating, because the bare bones remain the same: he hunts people who are deemed as sport with alien technology.

Fitting with the ultra-violent theme of this film however, this Predator feels like a legitimately horror movie monster. Unlike the Jungle Hunter, City Hunter doesn't prefer to attack from afar, but rather ripping and tearing in close quarters combat, and when he does use ranged weaponry, it's stuff like spears, bladed discs, and nets that shred people into bloody messes.

And he's 110% a bigger asshole that Jungle Hunter: when the City Hunter decides to focus on our lead man, Danny Glover, he doesn't just hunt the man but psychologically torture him. He murders his partner - who is probably the least threatening human in the entire series - just so he can taunt Glover with his necklace at his own grave. He then copies the innocent words of a child just so he can use it as a creepy catchphrase when he decides to hunt Glover's other partners.

The iconic subway massacre perfectly exemplifies both aspects of the City Hunter. He interrupts a massive stand-off between armed civilians, gang members, and the police, just wading in and killing everyone indiscriminately as people frantically scream and claw over each other trying to escape.

(Speaking of, this film does have a LOT of fun having the Predator on modern sets. The above subway scene, City Hunter investigating a meat locker, and him performing emergency surgery in an apartment bathroom are all really cool).

Also, for being so divisive, this film creates a lot of Predator lore: the Predator won't kill (unarmed) children, he won't kill pregnant women, and he WILL kill the elderly if they are packing heat.

And this includes the trophy wall (with xenomorph skull - actually funny because we never see a Predator collect a xenomorph skull in the AVP films) and that the Predator tribe will honor and respect those who defeat their kind with a reward.

It does include that the government is aware of the Predator existence and tries to capture them, but this won't be a major plot line again until The Predator (2018) though it gets some tongue in cheek reference in Predators (2010).

Anyways solid film, lots of cheesey scenes and very tropey stuff that hasn't aged well (or aged in a way that makes it amusing). It's also that last movie that actually tries to be true horror, in my opinion. The rest of the films stick to Action with Gore, but Predator 2 is truly the last film where you feel like this was written to be a horror film.

Also, this film will be the last to really play into the world as being an overly dramatic action movie earth. It's all realism from here.

And then the film franchise will go quiet until 2004 and 2008 for the AVP films (that I won't cover here).

Finally, we get to Predators (2010), and obvious title call back to Aliens (1986) and I have to say, a pretty good trio of ideas: The human targets are actually kidnapped and dropped on a safari planet, there are multiple Predators with their own unique designs and gimmicks, and there is a internal war between the Bad Bloods (aka the Predators who break the "honor code") and the 'normal' Predator clans.

(It should be noted that Bad Bloods have been a thing for years in comics and books, but not really in the mainstream until this film introduced it to movie audiences)

I have to say, despite having a fondness for the film and loving the new ideas, this film is not as enjoyable as Predator or Predator 2. It unfortunately suffers from what I call 2010ism, where there's a lot of CGI blood/gore, a lot of lighting/shadows aren't natural in a horror sense, and the dialogue isn't memorable because it wanted to ditch the action movie dialogue.

The last part isn't necessarily too bad, and it even works with how Adrian Brody is portrayed as a cynical asshole who is purposely meant to be the opposite of Arnold in every way. But the most memorable dialogue is definitely from Walter Goggins (including his highly disturbing "bitch raping time" speech).

Also, it really wastes Topher Grace, Laurence Fishbourne, and Danny Trejo, along with the whole idea of a gang of multinational killers/soldiers/enforcers forced to work together. Not nearly enough time is given to them to bond as a team and have a moment where they show off how cool they are like Predator and Predator 2 did.

Coupled with the safari world being just... a jungle, it feels like a lot of good ideas with "safe" execution.

I don't mean to rag on the film, it's still very fun, and a lot of that is due to the Bad Bloods.

The idea of a particular group of Predators being so evil that they are even warring with their (smaller) counterparts is a great idea, imo, and these Bad Bloods are memorable for their gimmicks.

You had one who used drones as "falcons" to scan and scout out large tracks of terrain, another who employed alien "hounds" to harass humans like a fox hunt, and the leader who had a rapid-fire plasma caster that was overpowered as hell. They also employed other tech like alien bear traps, net traps, and voice decoys.

This movie definitely had the most advanced Predator tech seen on film at the time, making the Jungle Hunter and City Hunter look low tech by comparison, and I think also served to try and force the idea of the Bad Bloods being really "unfair" compared to others.

And of course, we get our first Predator vs Predator fight, which was suitably graphic and badass. Also, I liked that one Predator died by a human pulling a suicide vest attack. Idk, I thought it was pretty ironic considering that's what predators do when they are about to lose, and thought it was neat.

Ultimately, there isn't much else to say about Predators (2010), even though the film ends on a cliffhanger with more people (and aliens) being dropped on the planet. I enjoyed it, it had a lot of cool ideas, cool tech, and cool lore... but if the prior films could be compared to novels, this one felt more like a guidebook.

And now... eight years pass and we get The Predator (2018)

Where do I begin with this movie.

I guess I start with the obvious: it's bad. It's a genuinely awful movie with few redeeming qualities. I'd say it's on the tier of Alien: Resurrection, except this movie is actually offensive because of autism ableism (turns out that autism is actually the next step of human evolution and makes you naturally predisposed to using Predator technology).

And don't get me started on the sex offender controversy.

Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. It's just that this movie... jesus christ, I rewatched it for this post, and it feels like a fever dream.

The Predator (2018) ultimately, is a film that looked at everything that came before it and said, "What if we did it all on a grander scale? And make it bad?" The plot is that a Predator is being hunted by an even larger, more powerful Predator, because it plans on harvesting humanity. You see, in this movie, some Predators use the genes of animals they hunt to improve themselves. The Super Predator as he is called, is a massive 10 foot tall monster that has turned his body into a super weapon, with technology built directly into his biology.

The Good Predator arrives on Earth to warn humanity and deliver a "Predator Killer" suit of Iron Man armor that will help humanity defend the Earth from the oncoming invasion force. The Super Predator wants humanity harvested because... autism makes them super geniuses.... and he declares that a 12 year old boy with autism to be the greatest Predator he's ever met... just because he has autism...

Look, I don't know how the fuck I'm supposed to describe the plot of this movie. It's just bad. It's stupid. At one point they turn a Predator hound good by giving it a bullet lobotomy.

It feels like this movie hates everyone. It hates the Predators, literally killing off the Good Predator not even halfway through the film. It hates the cast, because all of them are forgettable except for Olivia Munn and Super Predator, and it kills the mystique of the Predators because it has Super Predator monologue like an actual supervillain.

The dialogue is genuinely awful, the actors have no chemistry, and the comedy (oh yes, this film acts like a comedy on several occasions) is the definition of cringe. I would call it "ChatGPT writes Predator" but honestly, ChatGPT could do it better.

Let it be known that my words do not do how awful this movie is justice. You can only understand how bad it is by watching it, but it's absolutely NOT worth the time.

Is there anything good about this movie? Besides the Holiday Special on home release?

The effects are pretty good. We see a lot of high tech Predator stuff and that's always cool. I think this had the highest budget of any of the films and it shows.

There's an action set-piece where Good Predator escapes from a government facility and uses an M4-Assault Rifle which is badass. One of the best action scenes in the movie and a neat tie-back to the government investigating them.

The Super Predator is a cool concept and I actually enjoyed him for a large part of the film. I liked that he could just pick up a human like a toy and gut him like a fish before tossing him aside. I love the idea of a Predator that isn't a hunter, but rather a soldier sent in to fuck shit up, showing off the different tech. Really gives the impression that their society has different roles and tech for Predators beyond hunting.

I wish they gave him a helmet and didn't let him monologue like a supervillain.

And that's it. That's the good stuff. Nothing else matters. It says a lot that I don't think Super Predator or the autism plot has been accepted into lore in comics or books.

It's even been argued that this film was deemed non-canon because of how abysmal the reception was.

Suffice to say, after this awful film, fans were pretty low spirit. Which made it all the more surprising when Prey (2022) was released 4 years later.

There was a lot of drama about this film: the franchise is dead, why is the film so woke for including woman and minorities, how can any human expect to beat a Predator with a bow?

This drama is stupid and should rightfully be mocked.

Prey (2022) was a breath of fresh air for the franchise and I'd argue the best film in terms of quality.

It quite literally goes back to the roots of the series and does something that really elevated the film: it made the Predator symbolise something!

This film takes place in the 18th century on the Great Plains, following Naru the Commanche healer who dreams of being a hunter. Meanwhile, a young Predator - known as the Feral Predator for his aggression - is dropped on the planet for his first ever hunt.

Obviously, you can see the parallels between the two as Naru learns to use tricks and tools to handle her weaknesses, while Feral uses brute-force and high tech equipment to slaughter the animals and humans of the planet. The Bear hunt scene, where Naru is forced to flee from a bear and helplessly watch Feral kill the creature with it's bare hands (haha), thus condemning her in his eyes as not a threat is perfect character foil.

Also, he's such a piece of shit, cheating the moment he feels like his prey has the better of him. But in a good way that makes sense for his character.

But on the grander scale, the Predator represents colonialism. A secondary antagonist of the film are the French fur trappers, who have been skinning wild buffalo and depriving the commanche of their food source, openly compared to the Predator skinning animals/humans for trophies instead of resources.

It's actually a lesson Naru has to learn from her brother and mother, that to become a true hunter is about doing so to support a community, not just for ego and idolization.

Its no accident that the Fur Trapper leader dies when Naru sabotages his gun and Feral dies when Naru does the same to his gun as well, with both of them trapped and crippled without any means of escaping their demise.

This film finally moves to make the Predators feel like evil villains who are supremely selfish, much like the first 2 films emphasized (and the third film did to a lesser extent).

But talk of how amazing Naru is as a protagonist and how great the Feral predator is as an antagonist, the film is just good. The cinematography is gorgeous, the actors are great, the Predator effects and costume are terrifying, and lore wise, it does a lot to show that the Predator society is not stagnant.

They evolve over the years and it shows.

And my god are the action scenes incredible. The Predator vs Fur Trapper fight is probably one of the most iconic scenes in the entire franchise now, and for good reason.

Or Naru's knife fight massacre

All in all, this film really shows that the Predator films can be more that action films and... whatever the fuck The Predator (2018) was trying to be.

These films can be used to explore the history of humanity and symbolize concepts that deal with oppression, bigotry, and dehumanization.

The title of Prey - the focus on making the protagonists human - versus the Predator title is incredibly fitting.

While a sequel is left up in the air, we do have confirmation that a new standalone film - titled merely Badlands - is set to come out soon.

I can only hope they learned the right lessons from Prey and we can leave the horrid past of The Predator (2018) behind us for good.

#Predator #Predator franchise #avp #aliens vs predator #yaujta #Predator 2 #Predators #predators 2010 #The Predator #The Predator 2018 #Prey #predator prey #Prey 2022 #film #film analysis #movie #movie analysis #predator seris

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skepsiss · 2 months

Note

I’ve been thinking a lot about Eddie seeing the patches from his old vest onto a new less ruined one after I made that post about his PT—so my prompt for you is Steve helping Eddie resew his new vest (but he’s not really helping he’s just kind of there for kisses and emotional support hehe)

I took a little more into the "actually helping" realm, but it's still fluffy sweet. Other people can send me prrrommmppptts too! --

Eddie had never done something like this with someone else before. Sewing his ripped jeans, bags, and battle-vest had been a solo venture thus far, but it felt strangely intimate to be getting help with his new vest. The old one wasn't salvageable, but Eddie had managed to save some of the patches and pins to start again. This wasn't his first battle vest, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but he had hoped to hang onto his old denim. It wasn't to be though, so Eddie had thrifted a second (or third) hand denim jacket and ripped the sleeves off to start all over again.

"What's this one?" Steve asked, handing over a pin Eddie had gotten from hanging outside a metal show he couldn't get tickets for.

"Bad Brains," Eddie explained, taking the yellow button and running a thumb over the red lightning bolt that streaked across the front. "From New York, I think. I traded for it; no one really plays their stuff on the radio."

Steve nodded like he was going to retain any of that as Eddie debated over where to stick the pin. He settled on the front right pocket and then turned the vest over.

"You want to help sew the back patch?" Eddie asked, grabbing the swath of fabric he had cut from an old band-T. He hadn't been able to get the blood out of his old DIO patch, and while 'the bloody look' was cool, something about it made Eddie squirm. He didn't like that it was Steve's blood, or that the stain had made part of the album art unreadable.

So, DIO was retired, and Eddie instead centred his new Megadeth patch on the back of his vest.

Eddie handed over a needle and thread to Steve and then cut himself his own length. He strung the needle easily and tied it off before setting to work. Steve seemed to be taking his sweet time, and Eddie eventually glanced at him to see what the hold up was.

Steve was still gingerly trying to thread the needle, his brows pinched with frustration.

Eddie snorted lightly before turning the vest around so it was facing Steve.

"Here, you continue my line, and I'll finish this," Eddie teased gently, finding Steve's inability to thread a needle charming.

"Is it too late to say I've never done this before?" Steve asked, picking up the needle and thread Eddie had left behind and stabbing into the fabric.

"I can tell," Eddie chuckled, easily starting to work again. "You don't have to, you know. I don't mind just having some company."

"No, it's alright," Steve said slowly, obviously concentrating as he tried to stick the needle up through the patch. "What're boyfriend for?"

Eddie felt a syrupy smile spread across his face at Steve's words, his stomach tumbling around inside of him. He was still getting used to Steve calling them 'boyfriends' and Eddie couldn't help how giddy it made him each time. Sure, it had been nearly a month, but it still made Eddie feel like he was a blushing fifteen-year-old.

"If you insist… love," Eddie said, keeping his gaze down. He was trying out a new pet-name and he wasn't really sure if it was pushing things a bit too far. Love or My Love was such an intimate title, but Eddie had been thinking of it for a while now. He saw Steve pause at the use of the new nickname though, and waited for him to say something.

"Ow---Jesus," Steve said instead, and Eddie looked up to see him holding his hand up, a ruby-red bead of blood forming on his finger.

"Ah…" Eddie said lamely, smiling still as he reached over for Steve's hand. "Sticking yourself hurts."

"Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious," Steve bitched, letting Eddie take his hand.

"I thought you'd be a bit more durable… you know, with the whole… missing a chunk of your stomach, thing," Eddie teased gently, putting his lips to the wound on Steve's finger much the same way his mother would have when he was a child.

Steve didn't reply to Eddie's comment, instead sitting there quietly and letting Eddie suck on the tip of his finger.

"You want a band-aid?" Eddie asked, pulling back just a bit and then cheekily pressing his tongue against Steve's finger, holding it there with his mouth open.

"Yeah, a band-aid----what are you doing? Don't be weird," Steve chuckled, still not resisting Eddie's grip.

Eddie quirked a brow at him and pulled back, before huffing a laugh.

"Look who you're talking to. Weird is practically stamped on my forehead," he scolded, before licking Steve's finger again for good measure.

"Alright, alright, fair. We get it, Count Dracula, can we grab that band-aid?"

Eddie chuckled again and then scrambled to his feet, trotting off toward the bathroom, but not before turning around and sticking his fingers in front of his lips to replicate fangs.

"I vant---to suck yer ddiiiiccck," he teased, smiling wide when he got an honest belly laugh from Steve.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #mini ask fics

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soapisahimbo · 1 year

Text

NSFW ABC - Rodolfo Parra Edition

Finally! I'll be honest with you, this man has been quite the challenge to write about, mostly because it's been difficult to pin his personality and whatnot. But! I'm hoping I got it at least somewhat right and that you'll enjoy this one!

Contains heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

I'm going to try my best to make sure that it won't be as long until I get your requests out, because I don't like keeping you waiting!

warnings: senseless smut, detailed descriptions, hinted at female anatomy, Rodolfo is a fucking sweetheart

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

He's a real sweetheart, placing kisses over every part of you that he can reach, running his hands over the parts that he can't. He mumbles sweet nothings into your skin, some in English, some in Spanish, and this is one of the few times he'll be this verbal about his affection to you. Not that he never is usually, but he's a bit more relaxed and daring with his choice in words when you lay down with him like this. "So beautiful, so soft... warm... I can never get enough of you, querida, I want more..."

Once he breaks out of his reverie, he checks if you're ok. He's not very rough in bed, but he is strong and he can get pretty intense in the heat of the moment and can leave a few marks behind if he loses himself enough in the parts of you that he pays extra close attention to. He's never hurt you before, but he wants you to enjoy being with him. He wants to know if there's anything particular that you did or didn't like, so he knows to do more or less of it in the future. He asks you if you want to get in the shower. If you're a bit weak in the legs, he's quick to help you out. He might feel bad about it, but if you reassure him and tell him that you don't mind, he'll be vastly more confident; maybe even a bit cheeky.

He may be gentle and reserved, but he's certainly not lacking in passion. Can't keep his hands and mouth off of you, kisses deeply and touches eagerly. Insists that he should be the one to clean you off just so he can touch you more, but he's even more happy to oblige if you do the same just to get touched by you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Listen, he knows what his body looks like - he sees it in the mirror every day. But he is not vain, even in the slightest. He's aware that people might find his body attractive, but he's not the type to get cocky. He keeps himself in good shape because he feels it's necessary, but he's not as interested in flaunting his "assets" as some of his teammates might be. They have teased him about this more times than he can count, calling him things like the "shy maiden" of Los Vaqueros, but there's usually at least one or two people that remind them that he can easily take all of them out if he so wanted and that's all it takes to shut their mouths for a good while.

With that said, he has his own personal appreciation for his chest and arms. Not necessarily because of the way they look, but because he likes the way you can rest your head on his chest, and the way he can wrap his arms tightly around you (not to mention the way you place your hands on his pecs when you ride him, or the way he can hold you in place when he takes you).

He actually has a special weakness for the same parts on you, for the same reasons too. He just takes great enjoyment in laying his head down on your chest, thinks it's the best place to rest and even jokingly claims that he doesn't regain nearly as much energy if he rests somewhere else. Melts a little bit every time you hug him from behind and wishes that you'd never let go.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

He's not the type to say this out loud, but seeing the strings of his cum on your skin? His heart is pounding in his ears just thinking about it. On your stomach or the small of your back, over your thighs - it's not like he covers you all over, but the sight of it taps into something feral that he barely even knew he had in him. It makes him feel hot and it makes him want to do far more salacious things to you, but he's not quite sure what that would entail or how to make them reality. He holds back, but he has a dirtier mind than he might let on, or is even aware of. Perhaps with a bit of guidance...

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Rodolfo has always been a highly respectful man. He maintains eye contact, keeps his hands to himself, stays at a respectable distance when he speaks to someone he's not intimate with, and he was determined to stick to this, no matter how weak in the knees he was for you. He was sure you weren't doing it on purpose, but those clothes you wore that night certainly... accentuated some parts of you that he hadn't paid much attention to earlier (or at least tried not to). You two were good friends, so giving him hugs, leaning onto him, just standing close to him in general was not strange to either of you, but even if he always had been a bit infatuated with you, he never made any moves that could be considered inappropriate. But with the way you looked and the alcohol in his blood, hugging you felt different when he was suddenly so aware of your body. And he could tell that the other men were too. He's not typically jealous, but he felt a certain heat in his chest when he saw them try to approach you, licking their lips and undressing you with their eyes. But the night was not in their favour - you preferred his company over theirs and when you had had one too many drinks, he offered you to crash at his place. He didn't have any single ulterior motive with this, he just wanted to make sure you were safe.

Once at his place, he said that he'd ready the guest room for you, but you asked him very sweetly if you could maybe sleep with him in his bed tonight. Not knowing how to turn you down, he dumbfoundedly agreed and took you to his room. Once you were tucked in next to him, wearing a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt that he let you borrow, he tried to relax and fall asleep, but he was alarmingly aware of your body pressing up against him. He couldn't help himself. He blamed it on the alcohol clouding his judgment, but he couldn't go to sleep like this. Once he was sure you were asleep, he snuck out of bed and into the bathroom, stepping into the shower where he pulled his sweats down, wrapped his hand around his cock and jerked off to the thought of you.

He tried to keep his mind off of it the following day, but it was difficult. By the next time he invited you over, he'd had some time to think about your friendship and his feelings towards you, and while he's still not 100% sure about the order of events that had him end up on top of you, he really couldn't resist you anymore - especially not when you undressed that way for him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He's no virgin and he definitely knows his way around the bedroom, but he's not interested in one-night-stands or any friends-with-benefits-type deal. He's a very monogamous man, wants to be close only to someone who he's in a dedicated relationship with. He might not exactly have been with plenty of women, but he pays close attention to the one he's with and is almost freakishly good at finding those exact spots to make your mind melt.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Any position where he can feel your body right up against his. He's the type to hold you almost overwhelmingly close, but you like it - you can't tell where you end and he starts. The entire expanse of his chest against your own or against your back, his legs wrapped up in yours, fingers entwined, arms pinned. He likes it if you or he can sit straight up so he can get a good view of you, but he's always drawn to that "the closest we can physically get is still not close enough" kind of position.

If you feel a bit daring and can withstand those big, dark puppy eyes of his, you can definitely use this against him. Gently urge him to let you take care of him, tell him to keep his hands to himself - no need to restrain him - and watch him crumble underneath you. Once again, he never says this out loud, never dares to actually ask for it, but fuck, he loves it.

He doesn't stray far from this all that often, but he's also surprisingly into holding you up against the wall, which definitely caught you by surprise when you found out. Doesn't happen very often, but you're certainly not complaining when it does.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He doesn't exactly make a lot of jokes, but he says things that make you chuckle, and then that will make him chuckle, and then the two of you are just a pair of giggly messes making each other come apart in just pure joy and pleasure. He sometimes says incredibly sweet things that'll have you giggle like a school girl talking to her biggest crush and he just loves making you laugh out of love.

Of course, he can be quite playful and both of you have had each other in stitches, but it's usually because of something unpredictable and out of your control that you can't really do much else about other than laugh. Once it was a very loud pair of cats fighting out on the street just outside your home, another time it was Rudy bumping his head into the wall above you, and another time your neighbour sneezed really loudly and it startled both of you into an absolute fit. So while Rudy might not be the biggest jokester, he doesn't mind a good laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He doesn't actually have much of a happy trail - it sticks up maybe an inch above the hem of his boxers - but there's a rather thick and curly patch of hair down there. It's not very unruly though and it doesn't really spread out all that much. It's surprisingly soft and luscious, actually. He doesn't need to do much in terms of trimming, but he'll do a sweep with the trimmer for the sake of comfort every now and then, especially during the warmer months.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Oh, he's all over this. He's practically bursting with love and warmth when he holds you close in literally any way he can, regardless of if it's when you're naked in bed with him, or in your pajamas, fully swaddled with blankets and sitting in front of the TV, watching bad soap operas. Intimacy is a big deal for him and he takes it very seriously. Hell, nudity never needs to lead to sex, it's just another way for him to feel you.

He's oh so sweet and very gentle with his affection for you and just wants to spend as much time as he can with you, without being overbearing of course. Doing domestic tasks together, taking naps, hushed conversations in the middle of the night - he's all about that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

It shames him a bit when he does it; it feels like it's something he shouldn't be doing, so he tries to steer clear of it. But since the two of you got together, it's become way more challenging than it ever was before, and you've sort of relieved some of his previous qualms about it. He doesn't want to do it if you're nearby because it feels like he's going behind your back, but sometimes when far away from you, he might not be able to help himself.

However the thought of someone catching him in the act is absolutely mortifying, especially if it happened to be Alejandro, so even if he wants to, he might not actually go through with it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

He is not a very kinky man, but mostly because he hasn't really explored all that much. He might not be fully aware of what he likes or really wants to do until he finds the right outlet for it, but if you encourage him to try more things out, he'll probably find that he enjoys things like edging, soft bondage, blindfolds and temperature play. He might have a bit of an affinity for biting. When trying out new things, you might need to show him how you'd do it to him first before he feels comfortable trying it on you, but he's a quick learner and he easily picks up on your cues, finding just the right trick to please both of you.

As mentioned before, he has a dirtier mind than one might think, perhaps dirtier than he himself thinks. The more you encourage him and boost his confidence, the more daring he'll get and the more he'll initiate and come up with his own things he might want to try. You might be surprised when he suggests something along the lines of shibari - he won't do anything extreme and doesn't feel any desire to do any form of suspension, but there's something about the intricacy and intimacy of it that he enjoys.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

Bed and couch. He mostly wants to lay down with you during sex, but he does like having you up against the wall - when that happens though, it's usually in the hallway when neither of you have the patience to wait any longer. He feels that the shower is too risky - too slippery - so if the two of you get frisky in there, he usually prefers that you move it into the bedroom. Never wants to have sex outside the home though - the thought of getting caught makes him very uncomfortable.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

You. Just you in general. The way you look, the way you move, the way you smell, the way you feel, all of it. He's weak in the knees for you in both the most domestic, loving way and the most lusty, sexual way. He often mirrors you and he's very attuned to you - if you flirt, he flirts; if you're down, he's down. He matches your intention and your energy, so he moves the way you do, looks at you the way you look at him, feels you the way you feel him. It's like an intricate dance that only you two know the choreography of.

While not the jealous or possessive type, there is something in him that feeds off of the fact that others want you but you're his. All these men looking your way, vying for your attention, and he's the one that has it. He's always a bit more intense in these moments, and these are usually the times when you barely make it further than the hallway.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

Don't ever - don't you ever! - suggest any form of impact play or choking or anything of the sort! Not for yourself, not for him, that's just nowhere near his list of things he'd want to do to or with you. Sex can be intense and heated and passionate, definitely, but violent? Never.

Gags also, he wants to hear you and he wants to be able to tell you how much he loves you. He's a softie at heart, all right? He just wants to love on you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He never asks for it. He reassures you that you don't have to if you don't want to when you ask if you can go down on him, but if you insist, if you tell him that you really want to, he'll take a deep breath before giving you a dazed nod and mumbling out a gentle, "yeah, ok".

He strokes your hair, your cheeks, has a hard time looking at you because it just looks so lewd and you're so sexy and it feels so fucking good. He might moan out some jumbled combination of your name, to slow down or to go faster, how good you are to him, how close he is and so on. He doesn't do anything to control your pace until he gets really close, which is when he grabs your head. He does try to be gentle about fucking your mouth, but he has a tendency to get lost in the sensation and might shove his dick further down your throat than he intended. It's worth it when he cums though, because he heaves forward, leaning over you and moaning into the crown of your hair, while his thighs shake and quiver until he finally comes down from the high of it. He apologizes if he's been too rough, but you tell him not to worry. But regardless of if he returns the favour right away or he goes down on you some other time, he keeps this in mind and uses any chance he can get to make it up to you.

Let him make it up to you, please. Even if he's pushing you a bit farther than you think you might be able to take. He takes going down on you very seriously. He won't allow himself to get distracted by anything (Alejandro called once while he was going down on you and you're pretty sure that's the only time Rudy has ever told you "he can wait") - he wants to give all his attention to you. He holds a strong and firm grip on your hips and thighs, making it near impossible for you to move, licking and sucking and kissing for what might feel like an eternity, coaxing out a number of orgasms in such a succession that it might just be one very extended one. He loses himself in it, too, and he doesn't seem to have any problem looking at you now. His eyes glazed over, heavy-lidded and deep and this time you might be the one who has to look away.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

He's a slow and heavy one, holding you tightly and grinding his hips into yours. He keeps this pace very steady and doesn't really change it unless you ask him to or he's getting close. He's had his moments where he goes quicker and rougher, mostly out of pure impatience and desperation for you, but he prefers to keep it slow and deep if he can.

If you want him to go faster, he'll do his best to hold out as long as he can, but if you're in charge and maybe ride him, he might ask you to slow down, just because you feel so good and he wants to make it last.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He's not a big fan, to be honest. He might try to go for it a few times, but he finds that it's not nearly as satisfactory as actually spending a much more extended amount of time with you, and once he's started, it's hard for him to stop. He once tried to go for a quickie in the bathroom once, bending you over the sink, but those five minutes that he asked for at the start just kept going and going and going and going... he apologized several times during the deed, but he just couldn't bring himself to stop, and you honestly didn't really mind it.

You did, however, take any chance you got to make fun of him for it. He's usually a very disciplined and strong-willed individual, but that just seems to melt away when he's with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

If there's ever anything he'd want to experiment with, he's doing it very cautiously. Remember the temperature play and shibari? He won't touch upon it unless he's read pretty much every article and every tip and every cautionary tale he can find on it. And once he's done that and gathered up the courage for it, he'll talk to you about it in great detail, with flushed cheeks and all, because he wants to know how you feel about it, and if you agree to try it, he'll go at it with baby steps - a little at a time. He takes it upon himself to prepare for everything that can go wrong and explains his steps to you as he's doing them. You might need to tell him to relax a bit, not to worry so much. It's good that he's prepared, but sometimes he needs a reminder to get out of his head and actually enjoy the moment.

With all that said, he won't ever try anything that he thinks might cause either one of you actual harm or put you at risk. He's not an adrenaline junkie, and he personally finds the sex to be mindblowing enough as it is, so he doesn't see any reason to do anything too wild.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

If he was a much more prideful person, he'd definitely be the type to brag about how long he can hold out. But he isn't, so he doesn't, even if you've told him several times that you're impressed with his stamina. He can go for 3 rounds, easily, mainly because he paces himself and has a strangely effective recovery. He has a hard time stopping, he always wants a little bit more, but even he reaches his limit at some point. It of course depends on how long you can go for - it's no longer any fun if you're not into it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

He has never really thought about toys, at least not for himself. If he ever came across any of your toys, it would be purely accidental and it might actually take him a moment to realize what he's looking at before blushing profusely and then trying his absolute best to pretend he never saw anything. He won't tell you what he found unless you catch him in the act, or you notice that he's acting strange and convince him to tell you. If you manage to get it out of him, you'll need to reassure him that you're not angry with him, because he's convinced that you'll be outraged if you find this out.

If you tell him that you use them when he's away and you miss him, you'll practically hear his heart race. Couple that with a sultry, "I can't make myself feel as good as you do" and he might snap.

He never considers using them during sex, not out of shame or any sort of qualm towards it, but because he feels like that's your own thing and it's not for him to meddle with, so if you want to use them with him, you'll need to convince him. Be careful though, because once he reaches a certain amount of confidence, he'll really give you a run for your money.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

He's not at all a teaser, at least not on purpose. He can get a bit distracted, rubbing and kissing spots just because he enjoys it and you have to redirect him because he's actually driving you insane without realizing it.

He gets a bit uncomfortable if you tease him outside the comfort of your home, so keep it within the walls. If you tease him at times where he can't instantly get to you, better brace yourself, because once he is able to reach you, he won't let go for a good while.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Not very loud, but quite vocal. He sticks to moans and sighs and whispers, keeping his mouth close to your ears so that you can hear him, or to your skin so that he can kiss you. His words might get jumbled up, but he's not the type to ramble even when overwhelmed. He's terrible at staying quiet though, which is just one of the reasons he doesn't want to have sex if not in a room with a lockable door and thick enough walls.

He might actually surprise you with some of the things he says to you in the heat of the moment - it's like he loses his filter, even if it's just for a moment. He barely remembers it if you question him about it after the fact and honestly surprises himself with some of the dirtier things he's said to you. One of the tamer things he's said has been "I wanna fuck you until we pass out, baby," and you remember feeling surprised at hearing that come from him as it sent you over the edge.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

You sat in bed reading a book, leaning back against Rodolfo's chest, with his arms around you. You were reading it aloud as he basked in your warmth, placing gentle kisses against your hair every now and then as just a tiny little sign of love. But as time went on, the warmth began to shift to something else, something that had his heart beat just a little bit faster, and he couldn't even tell what it was that did it. But his hands began to trail down over your hips, and he could tell by the way your voice fell for just a moment that you could tell what he was doing. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his fingers tugging just a little bit at the hem of your underwear and you did your best to continue reading.

His fingers trailed just a little bit further down and you paused for a moment to gather yourself. "Rudy, what-?"

"I'm sorry, can I just..." He didn't finish his question before he slipped into your underwear and he began to work his hand between your legs. "Just... just keep reading, baby..."

His other hand snuck up under you shirt and to your chest where his fingers found one of your nipples. "Rudy, how am I supposed to-"

"Keep reading, please?"

You leaned your head back to try and get yourself together and you felt him moan silently against your neck. You took a deep breath, then focused back on the book and began to read again, albeit shakily. You don't know what got into him, but he was panting against your skin as if you were pleasuring him, and he kept asking you to keep reading even after you came. After the third time though, you threw the book away and begged him to just fuck you already. This seemed to snap him out of it and he finally took his clothes off, letting you get on top and sit down fully on his length.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

6-ish inches, give or take if he's hard or soft. It has a little bend to it and is a bit thicker than others, but not too much. The head of it is a little thicker than the rest, but it only seems to work in his favour.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

He's not an overtly sexual type of person, but you do things to him that he just can't resist, so it's safe to say that he wants you as much and as often as you want him. If he's in the mood, he'll approach you carefully and patiently, never expecting you to do anything you don't want to, but you find that his touches and kisses always work to warm you up (just as yours do for him). How high his sex drive is can vary from day to day, week to week, but he's still very affectionate and intimate on the days when it's low.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

It might actually take a while for him to fall asleep afterwards. He likes to talk to you, sometimes about how much he enjoyed it, sometimes about how much he loves you, sometimes about plans or things he'd want to do, and he might talk for a good hour or so. If you're sleepy though, he'll let you sleep. He'll watch you for little while, taking in the sight of you before getting comfortable and falling asleep with you in his arms.

#cod mw2 fic #cod x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo parra smut #cod mw2 #rodolfo parra #cod rodolfo

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psychelis-new · 8 months

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pick a pile: "Your true colors - (7/7) Violet"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a message for you from the color violet, the seventh and last of the 7 rainbow's colors. in this serie of readings about the rainbow's colors, I will try to channel about your true colors, so to help you look inside and see your most beautiful self, appreciate yourself more and hopefully provide some type of guidance if necessary. as cindy lauper would say: "your true colors are beautiful like a rainbow", so let's look at them and hear what they have to say to you and how they (you) can help you look at things in a more positive way.

violet is the color of luxury, mystery, elegance, ambition, royalty, awareness, intelligence, wisdom, miracles, passion, enlightment, knowledge (crown chakra)... in this reading, I'll try to analyze this side of your character.

you can find the other colors' readings in the pacs list in my pinned post

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

Let's start off noticing that you have a triangle shape in your pic: this is a sign of the Divine, and a very strong-based shape, often connected with the masculine and feminine too. I do think you're spiritually protected and have a good connection with the 5d, no matter if you're aware of it or not. Despite this though, at times you may doubt and spiral a bit: your wounded ego/mind may get in between your downloads and make you doubt of yourself and your ability to receive messages/your knowledge. I think you are called to shed a light onto this habit of yours so to be more in control of your abilities and self power/grounded and trust them and yourself more: this would totally help you get further in your life and more easily towards your goals (or at least give yourself the permission to try, which is something you may have learned to avoid doing for different reasons: fear of judgement, lack of self control, downplay yourself to leave space to others... you're as deserving, dear). You're ambitious and powerful, so just give it a try and you may even receive.

I feel like at times you may lose trust in the 5d too? It's like... you may stop believing. You feel like you need to focus more on your material life and get away from the spiritual one, as you need to get more practical (probably again in order to feel included and appreciated by other people around you or cause you feel like you're not being listened to as you're not receiving anything and it brings you to feel disappointment as it's probably what you've often had to experience in your life -but honestly, this could be just a test). Such feelings are normal, especially if you come from a specific background/environment: things may get confusing for your mind, you may lose hope or come back to your old self victimization pattern ("I'm not deserving/not enough"), and your doubt and self trust issues as well, may make it all more complicated, but... You have a lot inside of you, also as per your spiritual abilities, so do not let them slid away cause you fear no one would get them (if that's the case). You're the only one in need to welcome and understand them and believe in them and use them the way you feel they may resonate with your life (meaning you don't have to become a spiritual figure, you can become a doctor, for example, and still also trust your intuition when it comes to healing someone or any other kind of download).

You can manifest miracles in your life if you want to. And, especially if you're someone already into spiritual practices/divinations (but not necessarily), you can also bring enlightment to those who want to listen to you (but you need to be the first one believing in what you download and how). At times it's only a matter of finding the right people for us instead of insisting with those who are just not for us. It's okay to be different. Take your time to dig within, to bring enlightenment within yourself first and to really know yourself, your triggers, your fears, to welcome and nurture them and to realize what you really want to do and who you want to be. It's all for you, and it's up to you. Remember you're free to do what makes you feel better, but if you started trusting and being more confident in yourself at least, you could become unstoppable. Take a time out to realize all I mentioned above, follow your guts and the signs you may get (number 3, 6 and 9 may be around you or you may be born on those days/months or your astrological chart may have a focus on those houses. Whatever it is, these numbers may also hint to the Divine, self balance/enegetical balance and spiritual awakening/soul mission). Insects may sign change and transformation (you may see/hear them around you): be kind with yourself as changes are hard to deal with, so doubts and insecurities and triggers may arise more often and harshly (take it slow when it happens, give yourself time). Take care of you and stay hydrated (water may also cleanse you/help you relax).

songs: blue moon | the marcels; miss perfect | abs, nodesha

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pile 2

Pile 2, it's okay if things are unclear and confusing. The veil may not be removed for you yet, or not entirely, and you're probably called to trust and believe at this time. Even believe that your personal changes that you may be experiencing now (and may indeed add confusion to your life), are just for you and your good. Similarly to pile 1 but not exactly in the same way (you're more an evolution of that pile): I feel like you already know about this. You're already trusting, at least 99% of times. It feels as you have decided to trust yourself and fate or the Universe, despite you may not understand it entirely or be sure about it. You know that things can change at any time, that transformations require time and that you cannot control it all but can only let it flow. I feel like, deep inside, you have the belief that things are gonna be okay and you are even kinda hyped about it (despite you tend to keep yourself grounded still and not let this thought sweep you away: I think that's an okay approach, just keep being hopeful though). You can feel there's something in store but you cannot grasp it and even if at times you try to get more about it and end up hitting a wall, you know that things will still be clear at the right time. And you don't mind a little surprise here and there: like it's good to know, but it's also good to not know everything.

You seem passionate, smart and someone who likes to learn more and more. At least on your best days (which is what you're trying to move forward to, leaving pile 1's energy, almost). Your learning happens in different fields (and fields that are "different" from the usual) and maybe also your career or something about you is different or unusual; you have many interests, you like different cultures and stuff, but you also feel an attraction towards the occult and unknown and ofc you want to know more about spirituality too. If this is speaking to you, please do not block yourself and ask questions or search for resources (on youtube, books, websites...) or even through travels if you can or will get the chance (it's still a travel even to move in a different side of your town). You're someone transforming, shedding old skin like a snake, and a change of environment and mental pattern is what can make you feel renewed (also from a creative point of view, if this resonates with you: you may try to start a creative career but feel blocked. I think your crown chakra may get more downloads and guide you better the moment you find a new balance under different circumstances or in different places, seeing/experiencing something new. The more you grow comfortable in your whole new self).

Indeed try something new, do something for you. Gift yourself something. I do think you are already doing this or are on the way to, so take this as a confirmation for you being on the right track. You're slowly moving towards holding more control over your emotions (at times you may still get overwhelmed so please do also find ways to recharge/sleep/nap and set clear boundaries that won't make you downplay your needs in order to make others feel better), keep believing that you will be able to even if now you have no idea of how you'll get there. You're being guided from above even if you'r enot noticing it, so trust that you're going to be where you are supposed to be (and very likely where you want to be too). Stay open to receive and follow yourself and your guidance in the weirdest places, even where you think there's nothing for you: you never know what are Universe's plans and what can pop up for you even from a slightly negative situation (or what you perceive as such). The moment you'll find ways to be even more in control of your thoughts and fears, you're gonna reach your peak of abundance. You'll get miracles falling in your lap without you having to move a finger exactly cause you're trusting Universe's guidance. Keep going, keep trusting, keep working on you and be hopeful as you can. You're being cleansed to start a new amazing trip. And also, if you're trying to close with the past, you'll make/you're making it. Universe has your back and you kinda already know it.

song: touch | shura (canvas remix); never change | jeremy passion, melissa polinar

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pile 3

Hello pile 3, it's an honor to be around you. You know your worth, your energy is very refined, almost high mantenance. You almost feel otherwordly. Woah... You have lot of wisdom in whatever is your field, you're also gaining more and probably will get some recognition too like you may be posting online lot of stuff and have many people recognize your effort and resonate with your words. I am getting astrologers but also people good with words/communication in general. Ofc you may just be writing about some particular studies you're doing or scientific researches or anything else (maybe a thesis?). Maybe even a book. I do feel a lot of writing-communication related energy but ofc it could also relate to other fields like therapy. At times though, or for some of you, this refined energy may be more of a mask you wear to feel better about yourself or to feel like you're deserving, especially if you resonate with the online world or public world versus private world. It feels like in real life (or in private) you may look or act or be different from how your energy feels online/publicy, and you're kinda avoiding it or neglecting that. I think you may still fear being judged for your looks(?) or for what you believe, while online it got easier for you to find your audience and even more your place. Do not block your light: let it shine. It's okay to be different (I said it in another pile too, so if you were called by it as well.. well, confirmation x2) and it's so very okay to be you.

Let yourself shine the way you're supposed to. Others will judge you anyway, let them be triggered and don't mind. They're just projecting their insecurities and fears onto you, it's not you the problem anyway. You have a way with words and you can bring so much clarity to others for the way you connect all the infos and dots, and maybe you also have clairs' abilities that support you in this, so do not stop yourself when you feel like you can use your words to help: cause you can really help and heal those around you, even simply through your presence and true energy (the one you show shamelessly online). Stand strong, be true to yourself and follow your heart guidance. And heal your heart too (I suggest you to take the Green and Blue pac too, if you want/feel called to).

I think you have many dreams, you are ambitious and a huge desire within you, and honestly the moment you learn how to take control over your mind and balance it so that your insecurities and past throat chakra blockages (you may have been downplayed or shut up/talked over often, or not listened to, so you kinda lowered your voice out of habit, feeling unworthy and not good enough.. but it was others not being able to listen to your wisdom and inner knowledge -you may download directly from the Source, how amazing!), you'll find your place, your happiness and your stage and public. You'll shine so much and be a very important figure in the life of many. Be it online or in your area/where you're gonna be (Erin Brockovich-style). Keep working on your emotional side, ground yourself, and see your worth most of all. Don't shut down please, we need you and your abilities. I think you may be called by a specific field/volunteering/association maybe even human rights-related ones, so just follow your own guidance and take your own time to let your voice be heard also irl. You're here to help us but also to make yourself happy the way it resonates the most with your soul, so do not close off to that to let others have control and power over you. You're a special being, please shine bright and let yourself be found, seen and heard with no fear.

song: nowhere fast | ateller; one of a kind | the gaia corporation

#pac #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card tarot #pick a card #pac tarot #tarot #divination #clairs readings #psychich readings #free tarot reading #tarot readings #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #colors readings

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fyodior · 1 year

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thoughts on sigma? Can be sfw or nswf but im desperate for anything crumbs :')

i'll provide sfw and (n)sfw for u hehehehe. minors DNI !

✰ sigma is a very gentle lover. his touches, words, and actions are all very gentle and considerate he is just such a sweet boy

✰ sigma's receiving love language is words of affirmation. baby just wants to be told that he's doing a good job and to be reminded how much u genuinely love and appreciate him for who he is :") his giving love language is definitely acts of service though. he has a hard time expressing himself personally with words, he feels much more confident showing his own love and appreciation through his actions. he'll get your chores done for you if he gets home first, cook for you, always makes you tea in the morning, etc.

✰ sigma fucking loves when you play with his hair. he'll sit there and purr if you run your fingers through it, brush it, braid it, scratch his scalp, anything. (he also likes when u pull it)

✰ sigma had a hard time warming up to physical touch and intimacy when you first started dating as it was a completely foreign concept to him, but as he gets more comfortable he gets so clingy. he still needs space, but it's not unusual to find him in a state where he just constantly needs to be either near your or touching you - whether that be holding your hand, your thigh, the small of your back, leaning his head on your shoulder, hugging you from behind as you cook, the list goes on. he just loves the physical reminder of you being there.

✰ sigma LOVES to read. he likes the classics but his guilty pleasure is YA novels - he fucking loves the hunger games

✰ sigma snores. just a little bit. its endearing more than anything

✰ sigma isn't overtly possessive, def doesn't control you in any way, but he is very very protective of you and likes to keep you close. not many things or people in life are his, but you are, and he's not going to give that up easily !

✰ sigma is a soft dom. no doubt he loves pinning you down and fucking you senseless, but he will also fucking melt while you ride him, unafraid to let out little moans and whimpers as he holds your hand and presses his face into the pillow

✰ when you and sigma have sex, he likes it when the both of you are completely naked. he likes the intimate, vulnerable, almost primal feel of nothing in between you

✰ sigma LOVES your thighs, no matter the size. he just wants to kiss and bite and lick them, and def wants to fuck them. he has such a thing for thigh jobs, he has a huge thing for thigh fucking pls it turns him on so much

✰ sigma eats pussy like NO OTHER

✰ sigma's cock is relatively average length, prob around 5.5 to 6 inches but def thicker, like there's some stretching and burning for you for sure !! it's also slightly curved and the tip is very pink hehe. he has a very light dusting of hair around the base and the wimpiest little happy trail but its so cute

✰ sigma loves to mark you up. its his way of being possessive without actually being possessive. you'll find yourself covered damn near head to toe in bites and hickeys and scratches and bruises (very much concentrated around your thighs)

✰ sigma's 2 fav positions are missionary (bordering on mating press, he likes having you very much on display) because he really wants to see your face and be able to kiss you, and spooning. he's a big fan of lazy morning sex, no pressure or high expectations, just hugging you close to his chest as he slips himself inside of you with a sigh

✰ sigma is a big fan of aftercare, and doing it right. when you get rough, at the end he's always making sure you're okay and if you need anything, will rub your back and kiss on you or take you to the bath because making you feel good does not end as soon as you both cum!!

#hope u like teehee #sigma x reader #bsd sigma #sigma smut #voices in my head #demons #sigma: ✑

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miscling · 5 months

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About Miscling

This is a horny blog for horny blog things. Please don't interact if you're a minor/under 18, go away, shoo. if you follow me, make sure to have some indication of your age in your bio or pinned

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

i am nameless, so call me whatever you like, lin is fine if you need a name. i am a girl, toy, doll, cow, kitty, slut, and ditz. i like to talk to people and am not scary at all, so send asks and dms about anything at all as much as you like. i'll try to respond to everyone!

i am an obedient good girl, who likes being praised. i like being given tasks to do and then be praised for doing the task!

This is a hornyblog that mostly follows other horny and trans blogs. i am a trans woman who has a cunt, i am also autistic and have adhd.

i would like to get to know other poly queer trans people who are very kinky and would especially like messages/follows from them. i am a fun trans sub looking for other trans people ^^ i am mostly T4T, but cis people are fun to play with too! I am in the UK, and would desperately like to hear from any other queer trans people that are also here.

i (re)blog about edging, hypno kink, bdsm, fetishwear, tickling, masochism, petplay (i'm a kitty), hucows/lactation, monsterfucking, CNC, mindbreaking, dollification, dronification, and a lot of generally weird horny things that i'm into. i'm an exhibitionist, submissive, and easily controlled by people who make me feel safe. i'm just a dumb horny girl who is controlled by her cunt. i do not consider myself a person but a toy, i am not a person in the way a cherished item or pet is not a person.

Real people don't wish they weren't people, after all.

Also, i started collecting likes on my previous pinned, saying if i got to 100 notes I'd start sharing links to my edging audios on my blog. If i carry on, and got up to 31 on my last pinned, then this one only needs to get to... 69 (hehe nice) before i'll start doing it. You should like this post if you read it!

Tags and links:

About Miscling contains every post that's about me.

You can find pics of me in Miscling Appears. (it's okay to go on a reblogging and liking spree through them) i make original posts under Miscling Rambles and posts about my lactation journey in Miscling Lactates i also make polls, which you can find in my Miscling Polls tag. you can hear my voice in the Miscling Speaks tag and over at my soundgasm page!

You can send me tasks with my ask tasks meme! I will take tasks from literally anyone ^^ you can see tasks I've done here! If you like or follow my blog, think about sending me a task as a little gift!

I learned to edge last year and was broken by a poll I ran to get permission to cum here then here and here. i hope to never cum again without being forced. i can't be forced to cum over the internet. i kept an edging diary for a while and my last orgasm was 1feb24.

I love to write, and I especially like to write about kink. Read bits about my play with Miscling Plays and stories I wrote with Miscling Writes.

Use my ask box liberally, anon or not. i'll answer near anything and you can use my ask meme tag and miscling answers to find questions to ask me (scroll the tag and use any meme you like, but copy in the questions or link the meme!)

I have a lovense wishlist (long distance remote vibrators)

I have an amazon wishlist (lingerie and random kink things)

I have a cashapp link (if you just want to tip me directly)

I have a ko-fi link! (please don't reference anything nsfw on kofi if you use this)

I'm trying to tag my kinks so i can find them when i want them, this is no guarantee that i'll tag things though. mommysub for posts about being a mommysub, goddess thoughts for religionplay where i'm a subby goddess, Bind Miscling for bondage, hit me for masochism, moo for hucow things, lee mood for tickling, oh my circuits for robot/drone things, maid day for maids, tidy up tuesday for my maid day, monsterling for monsterfucking posts, hypno gif, spiral, hypno txt, and hypnaudio, for hypno play, and hypnoslut for general hypno posts, preyling for primal play, latexcellent for rubberwear, and as i figure out others i'll add them...

I'm a slutty set of holes, a toy for others to use. Fill my mouth, cunt, and ass.

Also, I have some limits:

i have a nest partner, i won't let anything come between us

i do not like misogyny, transphobia, racism, or bigotry. This applies to kink too.

i don't like possessive language, only people i trust can own me

please don't try to make me cum or ask/tell me to

don't call me a bitch or a puppy. i like puppy petplayers a lot, but i am a kitty petplayer.

i don't like being treated as inferior, i might be submissive, but i should still matter and be treated with care and respect

sissy blogs dni, i am a woman, do not reblog my pics to your sissy blog, i will block you if i spot you.

i am a toy for others to enjoy!

(Most tasks recieved and completed in one day: 18) (Most tasks recieved on a special occasion: 48)

ASK TASKS: OPEN

use my ask box to send me tasks to do! i'd love to entertain and perform for you all! i am a good and obedient girl, and i enjoy getting tasks to do!

choose one or more task emoji and send them to me! include instructions if you send complicated tasks

tasks can come from anyone, even anons!

i'll do tasks as soon as i can! i have to finish my work wach day before i can play and i've grown very busy lately. basic tasks i'll do on my own, but i'll need help for the slightly more complicated ones so they might be a little while! Mutuals can DM me with DM tasks, and if i'm available we'll play ^^

task list below the readmore

BASIC TASK LIST!

🗜️ make me wear nipple clamps for 5 minutes! 📦 make me wear 10 pegs on my cunt for 10 minutes! 🤚 make me slap my cunt 5 times! ⚡ choose a part of me and make me use my TENS unit there for 10 mins. 🪆 dolly time! for the next 30 mins make me cup my hands, stay on my tip toes, and arch my back. 😺/🐮 petplay! for the next 30mins, make me keep off my furniture and only move around on all fours. make me put on my animal ears based on which one you send! 🤖 make me a good robot and complete one thing on my to-do list! ♾️ make me get my breast cups and pump my breasts for 15 mins! 🤐 make me gag myself for half an hour! (tell me what kind of gag to use and if I have it I'll use it, otherwise I'll pick) 🧣 make me put on my collar if i'm not already wearing it! 👗 make me get undressed and be naked for the next 30 mins! ✏️ make me write what you tell me on my body where you tell me! 💖 make me draw a little heart on myself where you tell me! 😵‍💫 make me stare at a spiral for 5 minutes (send me a spiral to use) (i won't use spirals that give me bad vibes, but i'll use any i've already reblogged) 🗣️ ask me anything, name a kink or give me a topic to write about (kinky or otherwise) and make me infodump about it. 🔊 send me a post or a write something for me to record saying, and i'll post the recording. 📝 make me go add 100 words to my current WIP novel. 🫴 make me edge for 10 minutes (Send me instructions, porn, a post to edge to, or a mantra to repeat while I do it, you can use my mantra tag for ideas. i cannot do this task on thursdays) 🕳️ make me fill up a hole for 10 minutes! (Choose to plug my cunt or/and ass, i cannot do this task on thursdays) 👅 make me stick my tongue out for 10 minutes! 💋 make me go practice deepthroating for 5 mins! 🍇 make me go get a snack and a drink! ❌ make me go take a break outside for 5 mins! 😴 make me go lay down in bed for 15 mins, no screens allowed.

SLIGHTLY MORE COMPLICATED TASK LIST!

👋 i'll ask my nestie to tickle me for 5 mins! (check my toybox) 🖐️ i'll ask my nestie to slap me 10 times! choose my face or tits 🏓 i'll ask my nestie to hit me 10 times! choose my ass or thighs (check my toybox) 👣 i'll ask my nestie to put elastic bands around my feet and snap the band against my soles 10 times. (nestie enjoys doing this to me) 🫶 i'll ask my nestie to choke me and hold my breath over a 5 minute session (please do not mix with other tasks) ⛓️ i'll get myself tied up and restrained for 30 mins! 🥊 No hands! make me put on my hand mitts for 15 minutes!

DM TASKS

If we're mutuals, you can dm me and play with me in other ways. Ask me for my lovense toy control links, combine tasks into one bigger task, send me files to listen to or hypnotise me yourselves, make me wear a diaper or control my toilet use, or suggest other things to do with me that you'd like! Non-mutuals who've gotten to know me can ask to play too.

Or...

⁉️ Give me a task not listed! (You can find the contents of my toybox here for ideas) (I reserve the right to safeword, but I'm very open and obedient, so shoot your shot)

#about miscling #why are these always so lonnnggggggg #if there's one thing i know how to autistically infodump about it's ✨myself✨#misc pinned post

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