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#idk this got away from me
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I have literally no idea how I come off to people, most especially at work bc I yell and pick up heavy shit n do my best try at my deep voice and if ur a customer ur gonna hear me yell for you to come to my register I'm not playing around w "hey please come on down !!" bitch NEXT GUEST. AT THE END.
but ya if they don't know im transgender yet it shouldn't even come as a surprise when I start t. yes I sing single operatic and silly high notes. yes I will do little jumps. yes I have my silly mannerisms. at any inconvenience I will say I need to smoke 10 cigarettes. no I don't need help picking shit up i'd rather break my stupid back. if they don't see me as a guy what do you see me as. I want to know. I need to know. I need every camera angle on this fool. why do you laugh when I yell for the next customer. why do you laugh when I keep yelling when I cant hear. what don't I know abt this fool. tell me. tell me . Who am I.
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freesidexjunkie · 8 months
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okay i was gonna write some dragon age tonight but instead i cleaned out my entire kitchen and put together two new pieces of furniture we got for Christmas
so like
ADHD win i guess?
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bi-writes · 5 months
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what you want you cannot find. so you let someone else find it for you. (18+, dark!simon x curvy!fem!reader, arranged marriage)
you don't really know what you were thinking when you answered the ad. it is many things, maybe, why you chose to apply. why you were grateful to be chosen.
the loneliness, it aches. you cannot find yourself in anyone else, you cannot find the thing that should move you and hold you. you cannot find what it is that should ignite what is asleep, the thing nestled between your ribs that feels like it beats to a rhythm that you cannot hear.
the bitterness, too. there is something sour that you taste. there is acid under your tongue, something rotten between your teeth, and you wish for anything that you would stop tasting it because it reminds you of how alone you are, how alone you'll remain, the inevitable thing that you wish you weren't but that you unfortunately are.
it is the thing you cannot die for because there isn't anything to die for. you live, and you breathe, and you exist, but there isn't anything there. this is nothing that makes you want to gnaw on your own flesh, there is no life you would take in sake of another, there is no purpose to your existence except the hope that perhaps there is still time to have what you want more than anything.
but you don't know what you want. you don't know because everything that you thought you wanted, you do not want any longer. you never feel anything with other men. they are beneath you. they maim what they shouldn't. they complain about things that they can fix. they stare at a problem head-on, with the solution at their back, and they chase their tails. they do not know their right from their left. you hate them. but you want it. you want something. you want one of them, but you don't know which, so maybe if you don't choose, you will find what it is that you don't know you're looking for.
you're alone in the room. they gave you a bouquet of white roses. you hold them nervously between clammy palms. you wear a silk white dress that skims the floor, fabric falling soft over the curve of your waist and gentle along the swell of your cleavage. your hair is loose, and there is a short veil over your head, covering your face.
you stare at your handler. he's dressed in his military fatigues, tactical vest still strapped with the Union Jack across his chest. he has introduced himself as captain john price, and he is the one who arranged for your arrival. he is the one who told you to wear white, and he is the one who gave you the roses.
captain john price is rugged. captain john price is kind. and captain john price is not what you want. you are grateful that you are not yet disappointed with your match.
the door opens behind you. you straighten your posture that extra inch when you hear his heavy gait. there is a pause as the door shuts behind him, and you see his captain nod to a figure that you cannot see. his boots hit the floor low, and you swallow when the sunlight that comes through the window is blocked entirely by the size of him as he stands at your side.
the vows are short. you say your i do first, soft voice that hits his ears in a way that makes him nearly purr. when it is his turn to say i do, your eyes sparkle. he speaks in such a low voice, a Manchester accent that makes your toes curl in the white kitten heels that you wear. a drawl that you can feel in your chest, an accent that ticks a corner of your brain you did not know was there.
"you may kiss your bride."
you turn away from the captain. you tilt your head to look up at him, and you let out a soft breath when you realize the sheer breadth of this man.
he is barely a man. he must be something else. he is dressed all in black, and he wears all of his gear. his tactical vest is stocked well, magazines tucked into their pockets, a grenade dangling from one strap, a handgun tucked into its holster on his chest and around his thick thigh. his belt is heavy with more, knives in sheathes, devices in their places. even without all of the weight, you know the size of him won't shrink.
you cannot see his face. he covers it with a mask, one that resembles the front face of a skull. it is dirty. you aren't certain if it is blood or soot or dirt. maybe it is all of that and more. you cannot see his eyes through the veil either, but they are dark, and they are intense.
you keep your eyes fixed on his as he lifts your veil. the delicate fabric settles over your head, and you see him without obstruction.
there he is.
it is like seeing a man for the first time. it is like being in the presence of the dream you've always had and could never remember.
he tilts his head to the side, curious. he is seeing your face for the first time, too. soft eyes. glossy lips. the curve of your mouth. the untouched skin of your cheeks, the unmarred flesh that you wear. he follows the line of your throat to the peek of your tits dressed in silk. you are a present wrapped in luxury. hand delivered goods, of the finest quality.
his bride. his wife. something he will have forever. he does not know if he has ever been able to say that about anything else. he's never had anything except for his life. nothing except for himself has ever belonged to him, but even now, not even his life is his own, it belongs to someone far away, someone in an office somewhere, who moves the chess pieces of his world around, where he cannot do anything but follow.
you stand on your toes to get closer to him. he thinks for just a second you will ask him to remove his mask, but you don't. you cant your head, and you kiss him over the mask, sticky gloss leaving a light imprint on the fabric. you settle back onto your heels, and your breath hitches when one of his gloved hands comes to settle at the dip of your waist.
"she's all mine now, eh, cap'n?"
you blink, your eyes still on his. you don't move, and you don't say anything. you wonder, if you could see his face, if he would smile.
"all yours, simon."
you let him drag you closer, shuffling on your feet until your hips press against his. your back arches gently as he uses both hands, gripping you around the middle and feeling the soft flesh underneath your silk dress. he is a rabid dog, his next meal at his fingertips. she is his, and he wants to take her home. if his captain was not standing at his back, he knows he would take you on this very floor.
she is mine. she is mine. she is mine.
he has studied your picture. he has memorized your name. he has been waiting for you. he is too awkward to leave base. he is too quiet to attract birds, birds that matter, birds that sing. he is too ravenous to be anything but permanent, he isn't capable of the mundane, of casual. it is everything or nothing at all, and at the sound of permanence, he foamed at the mouth.
at the thought of something to keep, he was blinded. when beasts lose control, they call their keeper, and he had none. this change could be good. this change would do him well. when he ignores the order of a commanding officer, he will bend to yours, because he is bound, wrapped, tied to you with something invisible that weaves between his bones.
you do not know what you were before, but you know what you are now.
you follow after him. he turns to leave, and you let him lead. your heels click as you walk, and when it is hard for you to keep up, you reach for his hand. he grunts when you do, but he doesn't push you away. you hold wilting roses in one hand, and you clutch him in the other. recruits and privates stop to salute or step out of your way, and they stare when they see a trailing angel behind their lieutenant, a pretty girl in a pretty white dress with a veil fluttering against the breeze as you try and keep up with your husband's long strides.
the door he stops in front of is plain and unmarked. he fits a key into the lock, turning it and opening it, and he invites you over a threshold that no one else has ever stepped over. you stand on the other side, holding the roses to your chest. he turns when you don't follow him inside. you get a glimpse of him as a whole, the man that he is, big and menacing and taken. you wonder if he will wear his ring under his glove or if he will put it on the chain that holds his dog tags.
"is this where you live?" you ask. you stay on the other side, looking in, a little timid as you stand there.
he nods, silent. he crosses his arms over his chest, and you admire the bulge of them, the paint of skeleton bones along the fingers of his gloves. you look him up and down before smiling a little.
"is this where i will live, too?"
he shakes his head, a no.
"can't have a thing like y'here," he murmurs. "boys'll eat y'up."
you tilt your head to the side.
"i find that hard to believe," you quip. "do people often eat what's yours, lieutenant?"
he snarls, narrowing his eyes. "no one takes wot's mine."
"then what are you so afraid of?"
"that 'f y'r 'ere, i won't get any fuckin' work done."
you break out into a big smile, pearly white teeth flashing, and he clicks his tongue at your reaction. he reaches up and lifts his mask, pushing it up until it rests over his nose. his nose is crooked from being broken so many times. his face is scarred, as if someone took a blade and carved out the skin and muscle. a deep one stretches from somewhere under the mask to his lip, where it looks as if the skin was haphazardly stitched back together. another long jagged grey streak comes over the line of his cheek down his jaw, as if someone tried to peel his face off.
he grins. it's ugly and unsettling, as if he sees prey that he knows he will catch. your own smile does not fade. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you want to taste him. beast, bear, killing machine, the boogeyman, a ghost that haunts, you do not know exactly what he is, but you know, immediately, that he is what you have been searching for.
you do not know him. you do not love him yet, but you will. you are sure of this. you are sure that he is missing piece. he will fill the spaces that you have always felt hollow. he will scratch a place in your head that has always itched. there is something in his eyes, you're not exactly sure what it is, but you can't wait to discover it. you can't wait to explore, to indulge, to lick the salt of his skin and know that everything he is has been waiting for something like you.
you did not choose him, but he chose you, and now you see it clearly. you see this thing, and you know the truth of what's been hiding from you all your life. the curtain has been taken down. the veil is off. the walls are invisible.
"come 'ere," he says lowly. "won't ask so nicely next time."
you drop the flowers onto the floor, crossing the doorway. you kick the door shut, hearing it click, and he comes closer, until you can feel his breath fanning your nose.
"will you love me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously. "do you think maybe...do you think maybe that's possible?"
he licks over his teeth, humming. he leans down, knocking your chin up, and your breath hitches when he licks up the side of your jaw, taking in a whiff of your perfume and the sweetness of his bride.
"what a stupid word," he mutters, biting at the curve of your bottom lip. "meaningless. love. bloody hell."
"w-what...what?"
"a meaningless fuckin' word for the things i would do for ya," he continues. "the things i would kill. the heads i would step on. the sorry fucks i would get rid of...just to see y'smile."
your eyes flutter. yes, yes, yes--the unconditional devotion. the terrifyingly beautiful reality of through sickness and in health, until death do us part.
"is it really that easy, simon?" you ask. his gloved hands slip over your throat, sliding low and skimming the silk of your dress before he cups both sides of your ass and squeezes, drawing you closer until you are uncomfortably pressed up against him. his gear digs into your softness, sharp edges cutting into you, but you ignore it as he begins to draw up the skirt of your dress. "is it really that easy to say you'll do all of that for me? isn't it...it's wrong, isn't it? to do those things for me?"
he laughs. humorless, condescending. as if that is the stupidest thing you could have ever said.
"'s olright, swee'eart. gonna take all those ideas outta y'r pretty lil' head."
you relax when you feel his gloved hand under the hem of your white lace panties. your eyes shut, and you reach forward and grip his vest for stability.
"christ..." he hisses. "y'r soaked..."
you are. you have been since you first laid eyes on him, on everything he is. you know why you are here, and he knows why he is here, and that is because there were two people so desperate to find one another, that they let someone else choose. the gods, fate, whatever they want to be called.
matched by design, together by choice.
you lean forward and kiss beside his lips, and you whine when his big fingers slide between your folds, soft on your clit before he fits two fingers inside of you. his gloves are warm, and you wet them easily.
"wot a good girl," he breathes. "knew y'were the right one."
"y-you did?"
"could see it in y'r eyes, dove. could see wot y'needed. could see it plain as fuckin' day. dyin' inside, just like me, aye?"
you shake your head.
"n-not anymore...not anymore..." you gasp, and he tsks as he steps backward, the weight of him heavy as he takes a seat on his perfectly made bed, bringing you with him. you fall into his lap, unafraid to because you know someone of his size can carry you easily, and he hums as you spread your thighs apart. you straddle him, pressed up against the gun holstered to his chest, and you moan softly against his scarred face as he fucks you open with three unforgiving fingers.
"not anymore," he echos, baring his teeth as he pumps his hand. the squelch of it is filthy, but it isn't enough. he wants you to soak his arm, his thighs, his bed, let the slick of you stain him from the outside in. "not anymore. not as my wife."
you scramble. you rip the veil out of your hair, untie the corset of your dress. there's a naked angel in his lap, perky tits and soft figure, giving way to the gorgeous place you keep hidden by white, wet lace. the place that is his, the place that belongs to him, a pretty pussy that will keep him satiated until he breathes no longer.
after he tears apart his enemy, he will have you. after he tastes the blood he desires to see run, he will have you. the adrenaline, the fire, the shout of every order and the sound of their cries, it won't exist anymore in this place, he knows it.
"y'll never want for anythin'," he mutters. "y'll never be lonely. always get wot y'want...wot y'need...wot y'deserve..."
you reach up and cup his cheeks gently, pressing your mouth to his as you ride his fingers eagerly. you want him, you want this, you want all of it, even if it isn't what's right. but something brought you here, right into his arms, and this is what you deserve.
he's not even human, you don't think. he must be something else. with how good he makes you feel, with the sheer precision that he rocks his fingers into you, the way he smiles, he must be made of only something synthetic, something not organic.
you feel so small underneath him. he tosses you onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow gently. you giggle, and his grin widens. he has a warm pink tongue, and it's between his teeth, and you giggle again when he moves his head from side to side, staring down at you. he's studying you. you assume he has seen photos of you, but this is his first time seeing his bride for all that she is. soft, pretty, unscathed by war. at least on the outside--but on the inside, you are not as you seem.
there's a parasite in you. something that slithers behind your eyes and settles in that corner of your brain that only he can touch. he knows that feeling well. he feels it every time he is in the field, and he feels it now, with you. he chases this tick when he works. it knocks his senses just right, makes him feel good and big, like the reaper that he really is. he can be this with a rifle in his hand, and he can be this without it, with the weight of his wife in his hands.
you smile, biting your lip, and you spread your legs for him. his eyes fall between your thighs, and he chuckles. he brings his gloved hand up to his mouth, the one that smells like you, and you watch as he slips it inside, sucking on it for a moment before he uses his teeth to take both gloves off.
he bends, still in all his military glory, and he sticks his tongue out, licking a fat stripe up the seam of your cunt, using one thumb to pull the puffy lip apart and suckle on your clit for just a moment.
you gasp, arching your back, and he stands to his full height again, laughing.
"oh, y'taste sweet," he purrs. "y'taste good. hard t'believe i'll have this cunny for m'whole fuckin' life."
"believe it, baby," you coo, and he sighs. he nods his head, reaching low, gripping himself through his cargo pants and squeezing his cock. you follow his movements, watching him pay special attention to the tip of him, running his finger over where you guess the slit is as he watches you squirm. "why are you so far away, simon? don't you want me?"
he laughs again, smiling wide, and he nods.
"course i want ya, swee'eart. who wouldn't want ya, huh? who wouldn't want this?"
you meet his eyes. the question is a sound one, but it never mattered that you were wanted, what mattered is that you never wanted. not really. not until now.
you watch him as he reaches for his zipper. he undoes it easily, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them low. they won't go very low, thanks to the holsters around his thighs, but it's enough that you watch his cock stand at attention, the red tip of him leaking down the sides, making the bulging vein on the underside of him shine.
you whine a little, and he growls happily, watching as you cup the swell of your tits and squeeze them in anticipation. perfect, perfect, perfect girl, practically a mail-order bride that checks every single fucking box.
he grips you by the thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bed. you whimper when he slides the tip through your folds, letting it catch at the entrance before smirking down at you.
"'s big," you hiccup, and he tsks, shaking his head.
"y'can take it, swee'eart," he murmurs. "y'r a riley now, luvvie. y'know what tha' means?" you shake your head, your eyes a little watery, and he smooths a hand up your sternum, gripping you around the throat gently. "gonna find out...gonna find out how well a riley takes wot they're given."
"simon--"
"'s alright, luv, we'll start nice, yeah?" he breathes. you grip onto his forearms when he feeds you his cock, slowly, and your back bows at a sharp angle as you squeeze him for everything he is. "fuckin' hell...yeah, just the tip, yeah? oh, good girl..."
good girl, yeah...i'm a good girl--
you cry out, digging your nails into him when he mutters fuck it and bottoms out. his palm flattens just under your belly button, a choked groan leaving him as he presses down, a rush of something fucking glorious running down his spine. it's a high--he's so fucking high, as if he is popping fucking pills.
"feel me here, yeah?" he drags his hips back, smoothing a hand further up your stomach until he paws one of your tits, squeezing it firmly. you nod, sliding your hands up his arms, fisting the fabric of his mask at the base of his neck. you feel him everywhere, you feel him in your chest, running down your spine, you feel him in your mouth and in your head, and it feels so good, it feels so so so so good.
"yes--yes!" you gasp. fuck, he's huge, he's putting a shadow over you. you're naked, bare underneath him, and his gear rocks with every thrust, and it's filthy because you wonder if he worked, you wonder if he didn't even change before he went to marry his perfectly-picked bride, you wonder if he got off the tarmac not even an hour after killing his target to go and take what is his.
how long ago was it that he last fired his weapon? the gun on his chest, did he use it before he saw you?
i bet he did. i bet he used it. i bet he smoked the cigarette that i smell on him, and i bet he came here, and then he married me, and now he's all mine, and he's fucking me six ways to fucking sunday--
you think you're drooling. your lips are wet, and with every smack of his hips against yours, you feel a little more trickle down the side of your face. you're moaning, gripping his neck, pulling him further down on top of you. you want him all around you, you want him inside, you want him to come every day wearing this terrifying fucking uniform and to fuck you so stupid, you forget everything except for the name he has given you.
you want to know nothing except for his name. simon. riley. simon. riley.
you want to know nothing except for what you are. his wife. his wife. his wife.
it's so hard to remember to breathe. his hands grip you tight around the hips, and he's losing momentum, hissing, letting out choked groans as he brands the shape of his cock into you. he never wants you to forget what he feels like--he never wants you to know anything except for him, for the rest of your life.
"simon--" you whine, and he smirks, reaching up to hold your face in one big hand, keeping you still as you chase the grind of his pelvis against your puffy clit. "simon--!"
"tha'sit, luvvie...yeah..." he nods, "look at me--look at me," he leans down, a big weight over you, suffocating you, "good girl, yeah..." he clicks his tongue, "cum f'me, swee'eart. cum f'y'r husband, yeah?"
you lean up, chasing after him, gripping onto the sides of his face as you kiss him hard. it is the first time you really kiss him. slotting your mouth over his, slipping your tongue into his mouth, the sting of your wedding ring cooling his warm face as you taste him for the very first time.
it is gone. the bitterness that you always taste, the acid and the sourness and everything that always is so unpleasant under your tongue, it is gone when you have him. he takes it out of your mouth completely, and you chase after this just as you chase after the harsh grind of your clit against his pelvis.
he is carrying you. you're lifting, coming over some kind of sweet, exhilarating euphoria, and you're blinded by it, by the feeling, by him. you want more, more, you want it all, and he said you could have anything you want, that you'll never need anything ever again, he said, he said, he said--!
he laughs when you come. he swallows your moans, hisses when you soak his pants. you are the prettiest thing he could ever hope for, the personification of the things he does not deserve and could never have, and it is selfish that he has taken you this way, but he does not fucking care.
the things we cannot have are the sweetest, the most desirable. and simon is nothing if he isn't a thief.
he is nothing if he doesn't just take what he wants. he likes to think that perhaps he adopts the "ask for forgiveness, and not for permission" philosophy, but he does not ask for forgiveness. and he has never asked for permission.
"please--simon--" you gasp, looking up at him. your eyes are wet, and a few tears wet his hand around your face. "please--inside me, please..."
"'s olright, luv--" he grunts, pumping faster, his pretty little wife just begging for him, for more, and how could he say no to that? "easy, baby...i'll give it t'ya, don't worry, fuck--" he hisses, "lieutenant's wife gets woteva she wants..."
"please--inside--" you choke. "simon, inside, i-i want it inside--"
fuck, that is all he needed. he nestles deep, pressing his hips to yours, and you kiss him once more when you go blind again. a second high, when he stuffs you full. just as you should be. just as you always should be.
"yeah, fuck--" he breathes. "tha' wot y'wanted, yeah? nice and full, good girl..." he licks his lips, standing up straight, and just when you think he is pulling out, he yanks you back towards him, cum leaking down your thighs as you cry out from being so sensitive.
"simon!" you gasp, giggling, and he grins, patting your ass gently before pulling out. you let your knees fall onto the cot, swallowing hard as you watch him tuck himself back into his pants and zip them up. he brings the mask back down, and you watch as he slips his gloves back on. "hmm..."
he tilts his head to the side, sighing as he watches you settle there. something warm settles in his stomach, something satisfied.
"like havin' y'in my bed," he says lowly. "look nice there."
you smile, and he holds out one hand, beckoning you to sit up. you do, slowly, a little shaky as you try and compose yourself, and he leans down and kisses you through the mask. you close your eyes, humming, leaning into his touch.
"so i can stay?" you ask, and he chuckles.
"mmm...y'r so cute, luvvie..." he rumbles. "a doll, yeah? can't say no to ya."
you look down at the ring on your finger, a solid gold band complete with a precious diamond. you will have to get used to this--you are his wife, you can ask things of him, and you don't think he'll say no.
you look up at him when he tosses something at you. an army green shirt of his, and you slip it on, letting the fabric fall, and you lay back down in his cot as he moves around his room. you lay in comfortable silence, watching as the thing that calls himself your husband looks for files on his desk, adjusts the gun strapped to his thigh, shuffles his boots across the linoleum. you are mesmerized by what he is, and you haven't known him even a day.
you don't believe this is your vision askew. the honeymoon phase. the sugary sweet moments in time at the beginning where nothing is wrong, where all is well. simon riley is a practical man. he does not lie. he does not do things he does not want to do, and he does not say things he does not want to say. he is not in the business of comfort and ease, that much is clear to you.
simon riley is practical and resourceful. you think maybe he counts his words. that he doesn't say more than he has to. waste his energy on things that don't require it.
his wife. i'm his wife. his wife.
"why..." you swallow. "why...why did you pick me?"
he pauses as he stands in front of a locker. when he opens it, you see shelves of personal weapons stashed away, handguns of different sizes and shapes, knives of differing steel, toys that with a small push of a finger could destroy whatever building they went off inside. you don't flinch, don't blink, don't feel fear. you don't know why, but you just don't. you don't think it's possible.
he doesn't look at you as he surveys what lines the walls of it.
"just knew y'were the one f'me, swee'eart," he mutters. he shuts the locker, and the lock clicks. he comes closer, twirling a small blade between his fingers, and you don't cower away when he flicks it towards you, holding your chin up with the sharp tip of it. he hums appreciatively at this. "in all honesty, had no idea really until i saw ya, 'f you'd be mine."
he bends down, leans close, and you follow the curve of the blade with your head, keeping your eyes on his. there is no timidness in your gaze, and for that, he beams under the mask. perfection in one woman.
"and what would you have done if i wasn't the one?"
he shrugs.
"would've killed ya, luv."
"just like that?"
"just like tha'."
the tip of his blade drags, sliding up the length of your throat, along the line of your jaw. your lips part as he traces your mouth with it, and you tilt your head to the side as you trace the edge of it with your tongue. he leans forward more, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can see where the eye-black around his eyes fades into his pale skin under the balaclava. you see yourself in those eyes. the you that you have been waiting for. the you that you have missed for your entire life. the you that has been hiding, too scared to come out, too afraid of what might be said if someone saw the real you.
she had not been hiding. just lying dormant, in someone else, waiting for you to come home.
you smile, big, and simon presses his mouth to yours again through the mask, kissing you there, growling from deep in his chest, a purr that only emanates the contentment and the relief he feels because he has found that thing to live for. it is so easy to die. it is so easy to give oneself for what they believe. it is not hard to give the best of yourself away, he knows that.
what he has never been able to do is find something that will keep him alive. he has only ever lived because he found dying pathetic. he found it cowardly. but the alternative had been just as unforgiving, just as unfulfilling. but not this. not you.
you will make it difficult to die. you will make death a challenge. and when he eyes that smile, this one that you give only to him, he is happy to be given this new objective.
"but don't worry y'r pretty head about all tha', luv."
you give him those eyes, and he drinks it all in, all that you are. finally, finally, finally--
"until death do we part, yeah?"
NEXT
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hinamie · 4 months
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yeah sorry theyre tragic in this au too
jjk atla!au with @philosophiums
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scaryarcade · 2 years
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nobody in the fucking world is obligated to go to therapy. "not going to therapy" is never a moral failure. the only thing you're obligated to do is to treat other people with respect. the idea that therapy is the only path to being a person who's safe to be around is so fucking warped and rotten i can't believe how deeply ingrained it is in our society that even well-meaning people parrot it without thinking
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fuupan · 1 month
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drew these for heart pirates day and uhhhh ep1115
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redwitchrune · 17 days
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had some time to think and watch people watch the minecraft movie trailer, and i think I've realized my main gripe with it. out of all the directions they could have chosen, why did they go with the one they did???
like. okay. i watched both phil and mumbo watch the trailer who had very different and opposite thoughts. i think mumbo was right in that it seems like it's trying to be an absurd, camp, and silly movie that makes fun of itself. the style (how ever mismatched) leans into that and the humor seems to go in that direction. and I think for what it's trying to be (camp, absurd, making fun of itself), it will probably be an okay movie! the focus won't be on minecraft, it will be on the minecraft world, if that makes sense. the look and mechanics over the feel and vibe.
on the other hand. i hate that they chose this direction. minecraft is such a game of stories, of the hidden stories, of what you make of the mysterious and wonderful world around you. you have the end poem. you have the music. you ha e the ruins. you have new expiernces and wonder and fear. yes it's a big world, but it also feels small. it's just you! in this abandoned and recovering world. and it loves you.
it just feels like that whole aspect of the game doesn't matter here. it's just the surface level appearance, mechanics, and look of the game. it honestly feels more like minecraft legends than normal minecraft, but even then it's missing the whimsy of legends.
yes it looks bad. yes it has like four different art styles. I think for what they're trying to do it will be Okay at best. but what it could've been. that's the real loss. It could've been about nostalgia. about love. about the universe. about making your own world with your own hands. about the quiet emptiness left behind you now have to live in. those raw experiences that won't be considered. whatever
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antigonenikk · 1 month
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batman perhaps the most prodigious child abuser to ever live. no wife. no biological children of his own whose lives he could destroy (at first) so he got smart. hustled. took to the streets picking up and adopting orphans and then ruining each of their lives systematically. until ofc he got sick of them and threw them out for the next best model. he was flawless in his execution of it too. these kids still want daddys attention til this very day. even after he rocks their shit or kicks them out for the millionth time. these mfs are willing to KILL each other for a chance at being daddys favorite candy baby for a week. batman truly is a sick mf i understand why joker thinks they have a connection.
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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year
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sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.
and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...
SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*
Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO
Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK
Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("
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SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-
Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao
Edit Update 4/6/23:
Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol
I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-
Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first
WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3
Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???
Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming, 
but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-
Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)
It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.
I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-
It was just…wow. 🥺
You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway
She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.
After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,
Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,
“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *
…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.
…Oh no.
Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!
Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀
Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.
Then he would scribble for hours.
Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)
The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou
At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language
They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol
Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)
But even then not immediately, 
Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?
Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)
Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!
It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today
…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…
Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,
or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,
your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue
So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/
Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier
But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats
…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.
You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around
You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps
You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)
And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city
…so why not go?
It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀
You can totally handle being like the traveler too, 
You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!
So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems
(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️
And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you
So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with
Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!
...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!
When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-
He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol
He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands
“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...) 
But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol
Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?
She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,
His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-” 
Cyno stops and blinks.
Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.
You blink. 
Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.
The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.
Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner, 
As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch
But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.
Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face
The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic
Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,
“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?
Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine
“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,
“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”
Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,
and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too
With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…
Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!
With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands
You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after
You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow
He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away
You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)
The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-
and it fucking explodes.
Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.
The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-
You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)
Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno
Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow
…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,
and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/
Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-
“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."
… and you just 🙂? Cool!
And give a thumbs up👍LMAO
Bonus:
Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.
Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-
Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol
Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao
(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)
ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!
Bro has anyone else had this problem???
I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!
FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH
ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED 
And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:
*hint = Atbash
:> good luck!
Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭
Safe Travels,
💀♒
♡ the beloveds ♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist
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yb-cringe · 1 month
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theres somethin about those outdoors man. pyro is looking out the window for such a long time. ivory is constantly looking out windows. that shot reverse shot with the woods when shes shaking off the dust from her duster. the room where the piano is SUPPOSED to be is bathed in sunlight.
there's so much emphasis put on characters looking OUT from a window. or shot behind a window. or in front of it. purposeful Long Shots.
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Theory: If Messmer is Marika’s sword (spear), Godwyn is her shield.
Yes I made another doomed Mother & Son presentation slide: eldest sons edition 🙏😔
EDIT 1: adding a bit to this, the theme music of Godwyn's Death Knight is a rearrangement of Erdtree Knight OST (aka Tree Sentinels theme)
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(Messmer’s timeline) (discussion of Radagon’s shady behavior)
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thebirdsandthebats · 1 year
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Tim’s family thinks he can cook really well.
He didn’t mean for this to go so far. It had been a misunderstanding by a well-meaning Dick the last time he was in Gotham and stopped by the boat to visit. Tim had reheated some leftovers in his fridge from the night before, and Dick’s eyes lit up the moment Tim set the plates down.
“Wow, that looks amazing,” he’d commented. Tim, exhausted from a long patrol and preoccupied with dread of having to wake up early, had merely agreed. Of course Bernard’s cooking looked amazing. He was almost as big on presentation as he was on flavor.
“Yeah. Tastes even better.”
What he didn’t realize was that Dick had assumed he made the food. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Dick loved to brag on his siblings. The next week, Stephanie stopped by unannounced to visit.
“I can’t believe how much you like it here. In a good way, obviously,” she’d grinned while Tim heated up some of the french onion soup that his boyfriend had made him. Tim laughed as he used a terry cloth to handle the hot bowl, placing it down in front of Steph.
He sat next to her with his own bowl. The random visits were odd. But on the bright side, the need to be a good host was kind of forcing him to eat on a more normal schedule. Two birds, one stone he guessed.
“Yeah. I like the marina a lot,” he blew lightly on his spoonful, the soup still steaming hot. “The atmosphere is so different from anywhere I’ve lived. I think being around the marina folk has been good for me—”
“Ohmygod.”
Tim looked over, startled by the outburst. Steph was staring at her soup with wide eyes. Her hand covered her mouth. Tim’s brows drew close together in confusion. “Are you okay? Did you burn your tongue?”
Steph grabbed his shoulder in a firm grip. “You’ve been holding out on us!” She accused.
“Wh—”
“You’ve been sticking to easy foods when you cook at the manor, but here you have the good stuff!” Tim frowned at her words. The realization was beginning to sink in. Did she think he made the soup? He knew how to cook, but he was nowhere near his boyfriend’s level. Bernard was literally in school to be a chef. He liked to practice his assignments at Tim’s boat, suffering through using his poor excuse for a kitchen all so he could leave Tim with the food when it was finished.
Tim opened his mouth to break the news to Steph, but their phones rang out with the high pitched drone that meant someone needed backup. Stephanie sighed. She lifted the bowl and downed all she could in a few swallows before leaping to her feet. “Job never ends, huh?” She offered Tim a hand up, and he took it without hesitation.
“Nope. Let’s suit up.”
After that night, Tim forgot to correct her. He was busy, and his family getting the wrong idea about his cooking abilities just didn’t make the top of his priority list. Bernard kept cooking when he spent nights over, and family kept dropping by on other nights, somehow never crossing paths. Tim’s neighbors seemed perplexed on how he’d gone from only ever letting his boyfriend in to having company every other night. And Tim just…couldn’t find the right moment to set the record straight.
Everything came to a head in the summer, not too long after Tim’s birthday. He was sprawled out on his couch, head resting in Bernard’s lap as the blonde’s fingers scratched lightly at his scalp. It was the lazy kind of day they didn’t often get to spend together, and Tim was feeling warm and drowsy. That was, until his phone dinged with several text notifications, and he dug it out with a grumble to see who needed him.
stop spamming the gc
Dick: it’s august .. here we go
Steph: birthday month babey!!
Duke: my wallet…
Cass: Dami, Jason, Steph, and Duke all get the bday cake in their contact names :)
Steph: Tim I know you’re lurking. for the birthday month we all want you to bring GOOD FOOD TO THE FUNCTION PLS AND TY
Damian: do not forget my dietary restrictions if you do so.
Steph: you text like you’re 84
Tim groaned and let his phone clatter to the floor. Bernard’s fingers paused in his hair. “Bad news?” He asked, concern painting his voice.
Tim shook his head and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Not really. It’s just—um. You know how you always leave food here for me?” He tilted his head back to look Bernard in the face, and his breath caught for a moment when he saw that his boyfriend was already looking down at him.
He snickered at Tim’s expression. “Yeah? Do you need more?” He asked. Tim was baffled by the question. His fridge hadn’t been empty in ages, and even with his frequent guests, Bernard made such large portions that it took him days to finish a dish. He had more than enough.
“No, it isn’t that. My family…” he hesitated, wondering how dumb this was going to sound. But Bernard was waiting, watching him expectantly, and these days he’d started filling in the gaps himself whenever Tim’s words trailed off thoughtfully. If he didn’t finish speaking quickly, Bernard would have an entirely new problem invented.
“…um, they think I can cook.”
Bernard burst out laughing.
Tim’s face burned pink. “Wh—hey,” he complained at the reaction. “I know how to cook, why are you laughing?”
Bernard wiped the corner of his eye, giggling like a maniac. “Sorry, sorry! You said that like you were coming out to me, and also I’ve seen you sauté,” he managed, and Tim rolled his eyes at the memory. He had sautéed just fine…mostly.
When Bernard was finished laughing at him and had caught his breath again, Tim explained his situation and showed him the texts. He raised an eyebrow. “Jeez. Four August birthdays? And they expect you to cook for all of them?”
Tim sighed. “Yeah. I could just tell them they’ve got the wrong guy, but now it’s birthday month and we’ve gotta plan quick.” It was actually a very rare occurrence that they got together for every birthday in August. Their schedules were so unpredictable. But all 4 was the goal.
Bernard chewed his lip in consideration. “Okay. What if…you give me a list of each of their favorite foods and any restrictions, and I’ll make the food.” He proposed. Tim sat up, turning to face the blonde fully now.
That was way too much work for somebody already cooking for assignments. Plus, Tim didn’t want to pretend he was the one cooking anymore. He said as much to Bernard, who refused to look fazed.
“First off, I can cook 4 meals in my free time. Easy. And second off, I guess you’ll just have to bring me with you to clear up any misunderstandings,” he grinned.
Tim perked up instantly. That was…a perfect solution, actually. Everything would be cleared up, he wouldn’t have to show up without what was expected of him, and the best part, he’d get to bring Bernard with him. He’d been itching to start working his boyfriend into more of his family’s meetups because it was looking like their relationship was pretty serious. He wanted to be able to bring him to their holidays, parties, and dinners. This was a perfect opportunity to start.
He leaned in and kissed Bernard’s cheek. It would never cease to amuse him how a real kiss on the lips was nothing to his boyfriend, but Tim kissing his face always had him turning red.
“Oh.” Bernard touched his face. “You have a crush on me or something?” He teased weakly, and Tim laughed as he settled back down on the couch, his head resting in Bernard’s lap as his fingers found his hair again.
A week later, Tim showed up to the manor with Bernard following close behind, a pan of vegan chili noodles in his arms. Dick opened the door. He beamed once he saw Tim.
“Hey! C’mon, everyone is already inside, so if you brought the food you can…” he trailed off as he finally spotted Bernard behind Tim, who was fighting to keep a straight face. He blinked. “Oh, is this…?”
Bernard carefully balanced the dish in one hand and stretched out the other in greeting. “I’m the chef.” He said with barely contained glee.
The realization seemed to hit Dick all once. His mouth parted in surprise. He glanced back and forth between Tim and Bernard. Finally, he shook his head in disbelief. “You know, this actually makes…so much more sense. Sorry, Tim.”
“Wh—excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?”
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sharpedgedfool · 9 months
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(Bit of horror under the cut, Super looks spooky here!)
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Well you don't know me...
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But I know you.
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rorvk · 1 year
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nice ears idiot
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miasmaghoul · 25 days
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I wish you would write a fic where Swiss and Aether are talking about their mutual crush on Rain and they get. Uh. Carried away with it. Together. You feel me?
"Pretty, isn't he?"
Swiss jumps at the low voice in his ear, bumping into the equipment case he's been skulking behind. Aether grins at him, that one gilded fang glimmering in the harsh light of their rehearsal space. He chuckles, bumps his fist against Aether's chest, and goes right back to ogling their newest addition through a gap in the cases.
"Hadn't noticed," he lies, and lets out a soft chuckle when he feels Aether slot himself behind him. Hands on his hips, stubbled chin on his shoulder, Swiss just has to reach up and give his hair a ruffle. "He's good."
"You sound surprised." Aether rubs their cheeks together. "Dew and Mist are the ones teaching him, I'd be more surprised if he wasn't good."
Swiss snorts, shrugs his concession, but he can't take his eyes off the ghoul on the other side of the room.
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It's been a while since practice ended, but Rain had been adamant about staying behind. He's been working on a handful of different runs, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of Mountain's kit and plucking away at his strings with fingers that haunt Swiss' dreams.
"Saw him at the lake the other day," Swiss mumbles, absently tipping his neck when Aether noses at it. Rain shakes his head then, tosses inky curls out of his eyes, and Swiss recalls the way they clung to the back of his neck when Rain climbed up onto the dock. The way streams of water cascaded down his surprisingly muscular back, sparkling in the sun. "That was...something."
"I'm sure it was," Aether replies, low and amused. He gives Swiss' ear a playful nip. "Water ghouls are made to be wet, after all."
"Tell me about it," Swiss murmurs, sighing when Aether's arm slips around his waist. He doesn't lean back intentionally, but it's impossible not to. "Haven't been able to stop thinkin' about it."
"Did you say hello?" Aether's other hand strokes Swiss' flank, dragging his t-shirt up to expose the band of his sweatpants. "Or did you just watch like this?"
"Watched," Swiss replies, unfazed by the way Aether's careful touches drift under his shirt. No point in lying, and he's too distracted by Rain fingering his E string to try anyway. "Couldn't help it. There's just -"
"Something about him?" Aether finishes for him, a thumb hooking into Swiss' waistband. Swiss nods, licks his lips when Rain reaches for his bottle of water. The way his throat works as he swallows certainly shouldn't make Swiss' cock twitch, but alas.
He shifts his stace just a hair, but it's enough for him to feel Aether's own interest in the ghoul across the room. He lets out the smallest ghost of a snort.
"You too, huh?"
"I'm not blind," Aether chuckles into the juncture of his shoulder. That thumb gives his sweats a tug, fingertips brushing against the base of Swiss' semi. "Why else would I still be here?"
Swiss responds with a soft ha, and for a few long moments the pair of them simply stare. Swaying together to Rain's music, listening to his mumbled singing and watching him bob his head in time. Aether doesn't stop his casual groping through any of it, and it's no time at all before Swiss has gone nice and stiff against the seam of his pants.
"I need to see his cock," he blurts, rocking his hips, and the snort the other ghoul lets out makes his face warm.
"It's as pretty as the rest of him," Aether assures, and it takes a second for the words to hit. Swiss pulls away just enough to turn and raise an eyebrow, and Aether gives him a cheeky wink. "I was with Omega at his first physical," he explains, and Swiss has never been more jealous of Aether's infirmary work.
(Well, except maybe for that one time he got to hear the details of Dew's first prostate exam - but this is a close second.)
"You should tell me about it," Swiss tells him with a smirk, eyes dark. He wiggles his ass against Aether's bulge, forces out a low groan, and Aether pins him to his chest.
"I could," he shrugs, mouthing at the hinge of Swiss' jaw. "But I think you'd rather see for yourself."
Before Swiss can question it, Aether touches two fingers to his temple. Feeds him a flash of pale skin under harsh light, of a lithe body reclined on an exam table, of a thin cotton gown being untied by thick, gloved fingers to reveal -
"Shh," Aether whispers in his ear, those same fingers moving to cover Swiss' mouth before his rasping moan can give them away. "Don't get us caught. You'll ruin all the fun."
The other ghoul starts rubbing him through his sweats, slow and intentional, and when Aether's fat cock throbs against his ass Swiss would be lying if he said the thought alone didn't make him leak.
Shame is so overrated.
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yuwuta · 3 months
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gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story
REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 
but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 
he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 
he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date 
#anonymous#he's like donna from suits but worse because he's like if harvey were donna LOL#i have soooooo much to say about him#he doesn't really Have to work he's a nepotism baby supreme#but he met you maybe in undergrad? and he's been obsessed w you since#he knows youre a workaholic so he's dutifully sat by your side all these years through college through grad/professional school#and when you told him you got to hire your own assistant he was the very first applicant#because getting paid to spend his days with you and take care of you? he was already doing that for free might as well make it official#everyone in the office knows satoru loves you except you honestly#he probably has his own masters/JD but elects to be your assistant anyway bc that's so much more fun#what he Really wants to be a househusband but first he's gotta ask you out and propose and all that good stuff (cue him rolling his eyes#and going on about formalities and boring systems and blah blah blah)#also in the office au in my head: nanami (also senior partner) higuruma ofc <3 beloved (managing partner) and TOJI!#WALK WITH ME!#its honestly probably satoru's influence that gets toji into law... as someone who so feverently broke it in the past#idk maybe there's a megumi situation that makes gojo be like yk if ur this good at skirting/breaking the law youd probably be half decent#at enforcing it... or at least helping other people get around it too#and so lawyer toji is born#does he screw around w the rich people who r stupid w their money? absolutely#but you nanami and higuruma just let it be bc he brings in those settlements better than anybody else....#hmmm... i kinda wanna make megumi somebody's associate but also..... yuuta.....#i think i just like sticking yuuta in a tie if im being real#but anyway... satoru is your Work Husband and everyone knows he wants to be your real husband#but they just let it slide bc rumour has it even tho hes just a secretary hes got equity in the firm?? and besides that his heart eyes give#away his hopeless devotion from a mile away#the day you actually start seeing somebody outside of work... oh theyre in for Trouble#satoru x reader#him dragging you out of ur office late at night and u protesting so he just. puts u over his shoulder#and ur telling him to let u down but he's insisting u go home and then nanami pops out of his office#and ur like wait nanami this isnt what it looks like but he's so dead in the eyes when he just sighs
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