#I love you all a stupid amount 💞💞 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

musette22 · 2 years

Note

Okay now I know I’m gonna sound like a broken record… (probably because I am broken, Chris broke my dumb little brain 😭) and there really aren’t any words to describe how I’m feeling right now. But oh GOD. Like releasing TGM on Netflix today wasn’t enough? They need to release a couple of interviews with Chris sounding and looking so sleepy and being this freaking GORGEOUS? 😭😭😭 I’m honestly incapable of processing more, I feel like I’ve been screaming for weeks and every day my love (and hate) for Chris only grows so much that at this point I don’t even know what to do anymore? Just a warning that at some point in the near future the only words coming from me will be UGH Chris and I LOVE HIM SO MUCH just on a loop no matter what question I’m asked bc honestly I don’t think I have the brain space for anything else anymore. How are you doing though lovely? Surviving? If so please tell me how! Ily hope you’ve had a wonderful day 💛

Maya, my sweet darling honey 💞💞💞

THANK YOU for this ask and for reminding me that I’m not alone in this, and that you also feel completely unhinged about Chris at the moment. You are so so so valid my love, believe me… This is exactly how I’m feeling right now too and it’s a Fucking Lot 😭

I AM JUST !!!!! NOT COPING VERY WELL !!!!

I am frankly exhausted. But in the best way?? I don’t even know anymore, it’s like divine torment, and I know that sounds very hyperbolic but it’s not at all, I assure you 😩

TGM + new interviews + sleepy soft fluffy chris + innuendos + slut behaviour = me face down on the floor sobbing, RIP me

HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL. So stupidly beautiful and funny and sweet and sassy and daddy and smart and dumb and UGH, he’s just everything and my dumb little broken brain can’t process it either 😭😭😭 So yeah, I don’t know if I’m surviving honestly 😅 Hanging on by a thread, that’s for sure. I just keep screaming in the tags as well and it's not enough, not by a long shot, but it'll have to do I guess

My day was very very busy, but I did manage to squeeze a run in and book my NYC & Boston trip (which, by the way, I can’t BELIEVE you’re going too, only in September, like… we are literally the same person, what even 😂) so all in all it was stressful but good!! I hope yours was wonderful, my angel! 💖💖 I’m glad you got to rewatch Lloyd’s TGM scenes and so grateful for all the awesome content you shared with us on here today!!! 🙌🏻 And I hope the rest of your day was amazing too bc you deserve nothing less! Love ya, babes 😘

#aaaahhh it's maya 🥰#also just as an aside:#I'm not managing to keep up with replies at all at the moment #lots of comments and dm's and asks that I should've answered but haven't gotten around too yet :( I'm sorry!!#life is just very busy at the moment and there aren't enough hours in a day #I'm hoping to catch up a little tomorrow but I probably won't be ale to do it all because I also have other stuff to do this weekend #if I had more time I'd reply to everything I swear!!#I love you all a stupid amount 💞💞#lovely people are lovely #minnie answers

8 notes · View notes

b1rds3ye · 8 months

Note

hi!!! i LOVE the masked reader content 😭💞 my hyperfixated brain is thanking u deeply

can i request a masked (w LEDs bc i love it sm) reader who's saying "i cant believe you guys didnt notice my new haircut" or something similar, having a :( face on their mask and 141 is so confused like "we cant see your hair" "you have hair? kinda thought u were bald" stuff like that 😭 its a weird idea but im craving stupid platonic fluff like that

ty for the masked reader content love u sm for it

Hehehe as someone who hyperfixates a lot I am flattered I can induce it onto someone else LMAO Just a lil Drabble for this one I couldn’t think up of much 😅

“You pissed ‘em off,” Ghost observes and Soap’s face drops into one of sheer betrayal.

“That was one time 'n' now you a' think it’s me?” Johnny jerks his head to the side in annoyance. “What about when cap’n-”

“I’m sure they can hear you,” Gaz whisper-shouts as he gestures to you. The rest of the task force look over to you sitting on the couch at the far end of the common room. Absentmindedly watching the shared television, your arms are folded with your mask in a perpetual "-_-". You make no indication that you heard them, no, you were fully set on ignoring them all morning.

"Captain what should we do?" Kyle asks.

"This isn't a mission Kyle, we can talk it out," Price sighs.

"Care to do the honours, then?"

Price stills, beady eyes sparing a glance at your unmoving figure. If the rest of the task force didn't know any better, they would think the unwavering captain was scared.

"'m busy," he replies gruffly.

"Busy" being him fishing around in his pocket for a new cigar for an impossibly long amount of time until his subordinates let him off the hook.

"L.T.?" Johnny looks to the next superior officer, to which Simon only responds with a half-hearted grunt. In truth, Simon and John have always been good at figuring out your mood. This is one of the few times they've been left stumped, clear through the silent conversation they shared as they looked at each other.

"Cowards," Johnny mutters to himself before stomping up to you, with a drawn out, sing-song (but horrendously out of tune) "bonnieeeee" announcing his presence to you. You don't even flinch.

Johnny saddles himself beside you, leaning into you. He offers you his sweetest puppy-dogs to try and placate you before he tests the waters.

"So... what's up?"

The rest of the task force was slowly joining Johnny, you could tell as Price's cigar smoke became more pungent. An explosive move by you has these grown men flinching as you pull out a strip of paper and slam it on the coffee table in front of you, mask flitting to an angry face all the while before returning to "-_-".

Simon reaches the paper first. Delicately opening the thin parchment as Kyle and John peer over his shoulder. Johnny looks up at them but stays by your side.

Simon looks at you.

"A hairdresser?"

"Got it done yesterday," you seethe. "And no one bloody noticed. They're not cheap, you know!"

Johnny tries putting a hand on your shoulder but you jerk it away. There's a heavy moment of silence as you keep laser focused on whatever the hell the television is playing. Your hands grip your biceps as you ensure they stay crossed.

Kyle eventually submits. He kneels before you, not daring to take up all the view of the screen, but just enough for him to be sure you were aware of him.

"Love, I'm gonna ask you a question. Please don't take this the wrong way."

"What?" you grumble.

Kyle takes an audible inhale. He receives an encouraging nod from Price and he needs to take a swallow to prepare. Even you have to admit the anticipation is killing you now, you offer him the relief that he indeed has your attention, mask now set with "?" over the eyes.

"... you have hair?"

You groan and swat him away as Johnny bursts out laughing. Leaning forward with your head in your hands you try to make it seem like your shaking shoulders were from devastation and not because you were laughing too.

"No, Kyle, I just thought I'd go to a hair dresser and admire everyone else's hairdos," you retort once you've recollected yourself.

"Thought you were bald," Simon muses.

"Right back at you, Skull Face."

"I'm sure it looks good, sergeant," Price encourages as he takes the receipt from Simon, inspecting the details.

"At least someone appreciates my efforts unlike the rest of you."

"How about we appreciate it more then, bonnie?" Johnny leans in mischievously. "Take that mask off. Show us how good it looks."

"Actually, I- uh... I got my hair treated. Need to keep this mask on, let it set, you know?"

Kyle tilts his head.

"That's not how it works-?"

"I've been waiting for this bit!" You exclaim as you point at the television screen. Kyle shakes his head with a smile before joining you on the couch, opposite to Johnny. Simon and John also situate themselves around the room, far enough for personal distance but close enough to still take part in conversations, and it's now a typical off-day for the 141. They may not be able to see your face - nor your improved hair - for now, but perhaps one day they'll be graced with the sight. For now, these antics around base will suffice.

Call of Duty Navigation Masked Reader Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #/*avery actually writes*/#/*avery checks the mailbox*/#anon mail ❤️#/*cod x masked reader*/

579 notes · View notes

lundenloves · 11 months

Note

fuck em kids, i want no-kids-ghost hcs

pretty please thank u ma'am ily bye💞

i got u! 🚫 kids hcs

these are just my 1am thoughts again, all sfw aside from one mention of sex. whatever.

He lets you do all the talking. All the time. Will stand next to you in silence without an ounce of help, hands probably on your shoulders as you ramble on to the people opposite you.

Entertains your stupid questions. Will often lie about an obvious answer, answering affirmatively when you ask if he’s serious. “Yeah, ‘course they did.” Said in the most nonchalant tone you can imagine.

Has that fucking teasing laugh. You know that quiet wheeze, the one that comes out when someone is being stupid. His eyes follow you around the room with that laugh when you’re in a mood, sat back on the sofa taking the upmost space with wide arms spread across the back.

Will absolutely wrestle you. And no, you will not win. Sometimes accidentally hurts you with his grip but it only makes you kick at him harder. Which he laughs at. See the above.

Takes up all the space in bed.

Goes so long without sex on deployments, finishing in record speed when you eventually fuck again. He’s past embarrassment at this point, and just automatically lines up for a real second round.

He fucking loves when you rub his arm or his back, touch his hair, caress his cheek, literally ANYTHING that is gentle love. He is game for it. He is there. This man is not going to be touch starved in your presence, sometimes even sighing in relief when you rub across his shoulder muscles.

Is probably pretty fucking bad at initiative. Sorry to disappoint, but all men are to an extent. You could hint all day that you want something specific from him and it would fly right over his head. If you want to do something, tell that bitch. 💀

I know he goes red easily. No one fucking argue with me about this, that man is one for red ears. And it’ll come over such stupid shit too, like 141 teasing him about you? Bang he’s went red under the mask. His neck too.

He isn’t very affectionate at all. So, whenever you get an initiated spoon or a tender kiss it’s a madness. You never make a scene of happiness though, knowing it would most likely push him away.

He’s a tender wee soul, really.

Is exceptionally good at calming you down. Like, scarily. You could be on an absolute fucking rager and he would gently bring you down, asking about every detail and letting you rant with his guided questions until you had tired yourself out.

Stingy. As. Fuck.

Will not spend more than whatever amount he’s made up in his head for something. Has to make a comment to you about it too, “Six quid? Six quid for what?“ If you work in hospitality, this man is your enemy. I’m sorry to say it.

His camera roll is single-handedly the best thing you’ve ever seen. It’s so fucking awful. The photos will literally be a blurry mess, of maybe: a rope knot, a sunset, a downward view from a cliff, a line of mug selfies from Gaz and Soap, a single bullet, an unmade bed in his barracks, possibly a dog or two and a few dozen accidental screenshots.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #call of duty imagines #simon ghost x reader

886 notes · View notes

hippolotamus · 29 days

Note

Hiiiii Hippo 💕💕💕

Buddie fic title:

If only I knew you had electric fingerprints

-❤️🪐

Hiiii Saturn!!!! So lovely to see you here! You said Buddie. Please know you have my eternal gratitude for forgiving my slip into Diaz Family Feels. 💞🦛

After the debacle of broken salad bowls, 'I think you should go home' and 'This is your mess now', Eddie thought that he and Chris had worked through the biggest tangles of dating in the Diaz household. Introducing Marisol was almost a non-event. Eddie might even go so far as to call it a success.

He will now admit that line of thinking was more than a bit premature and naïve on his part.

Maybe it was his own growth and evolutions in the relationship department that led him to assume Christopher wouldn't face the same issues. And, well, technically he didn't. No, Eddie's son dealt him an entirely new, foreign set of tribulations. A one-eighty of Eddie's nesting instincts where Christopher is leading on five different girls. Five!

Wasn't it just last year they were discussing how much shirt sleeve was acceptable to show? What the hell happened?

And, OK, it's a new world with new methods of communication and apps and how teenagers interact with each other. Eddie likes to think he isn't completely stupid, because he tries to stay informed about current trends that he would honestly rather not know about. But no article or discussion with the school guidance counselor - or Frank - could have prepared him for tonight. No tips, tricks, signs to watch for could have fortified him for the devastating blow of 'We loved her and she left us anyway' and 'I can't remember her voice anymore'.

When Buck emerges from Chris's room, Eddie is still leaning against the wall, crushed under the weight of a thousand emotions and questions, attempting to prevent his heart from spilling past the walls of his chest. To keep it from slipping through the makeshift cage where his fingers press bruises into his skin, just below his collarbone.

Buck squeezes Eddie's shoulder before wordlessly leading them to the kitchen where he pours them both a glass of water and he waits. Waits for Eddie to speak, because it's what they do. They don't press. And maybe they should - more or earlier - but that's another thought for another day. For another version of Eddie that doesn't feel like the ground has been ripped out from underneath him.

"I don't- How am I supposed to-" Eddie blows out a harsh breath, frustrated that he can't form a complete question. That there is no entry in the non-existent Parenting Handbook for how to tackle this scenario.

"Eds," Buck says the nickname so carefully, so gently, like his tongue is shaping it from the most fragile glass. His hand tentatively slides across the tabletop until it's resting on top of Eddie's own. "You don't need to have all the answers or know exactly what to do."

"I know I don't. It's just-" He cuts himself off, huffing out an unamused chuckle. Because he doesn't know.

And, look, Eddie is fully aware that he doesn't have to be one hundred percent in control all the time, but it doesn't make him hate whatever this is any less. This combination of lost and thrown off course; of sad, bitter anger muddled together with desperation. His own eagerness to bargain for a way to make this situation more palatable. A pathetic yearning for the chance to go back. To never enlist and close himself off. To splurge on the digital camera with video recorder so he could capture a truly ludicrous amount of everyday, mundane moments.

How many hours of footage might they have collected? Of simple things like Shannon chopping vegetables or putting on makeup before a night out. Her and Eddie slow dancing in the backyard to music only they could hear. Or her laughing, bright and bold, as she smudged dirt and filth across Eddie's cheek after he showed her how to change the oil in her car. The way he pulled her in with his own grimy hands, pressing their mouths together so he could swallow the sound.

He blinks rapidly to keep tears from falling as he wonders how many instances would have featured her rolling her eyes - exactly the way Christopher does now - and shoving her palm in front of the lens.

But he'll never know because he's stuck with the choices he made. That they made. He can tell their son stories, bring him for graveside visits, and offer small souvenirs of the time Shannon had on earth, but that's all Eddie can do. He can't replicate what it was like to be in her presence. He can't convey how she was soft and gentle and all the things Eddie isn't, while also being sharp and spirited. How she smelled like peonies and summer rain.

Whatever he has to offer is two dimensional. Framed photographs, memories stored in his mind. Some of them also stored in Chris's though Eddie suspects in a completely different way. Hopefully in a way that doesn't taste as much like guilt and regret for things left unfinished and words left unsaid. Words like-

Dear Christopher.

He swallows hard around the phantom taste of sea spray from the Pacific Ocean, has the urge to claw at damp, sun-warmed sand that isn't there. And god only knows how his best friend has any idea what's scratching at Eddie's brain, but he does. And Eddie is so, so grateful when Buck rubs his thumb across Eddie's knuckles and asks if he should stay or would Eddie rather it just be him and Chris.

As much as Eddie would like Buck to be present as an extra layer of protection, he knows this is something he has to do himself. Even though, as he walks Buck to the front door, promising to call later, he gets the distinct feeling he won't actually be alone.

In the low lighting currently casting shadows around his bedroom, Eddie's fingers tremble as he reaches for the small safe in the back of his closet. A simple design meant to hold important, precious things. The metal dial is cool under his fingertips, easily manipulated as he rotates it right and left and right again until the door pulls open.

It's been years since he read the words written in Shannon's flowing script, but he knows them like he knows his own name. He traces over her loops and arches, wishing, like always, that he had more time. That he could put off performing this errand for a few more years, decades, lifetimes. Even if he knows it's only for selfish reasons. Because he owes this to Chris and to Shannon. It's on him to follow her instructions and deliver this remaining link between mother and son.

He holds the folded pieces of paper in his hands, feeling something familiar wrap around him that isn’t the usual despair. Something that's more like spun gold flowing between the note and his skin.

Eddie bites back a sob as it dives beneath the surface to wind its way around nerves and spill through blood vessels on its way to his heart. As a calm takes root, anchoring in all four chambers, unfurling and flourishing. As the room, that typically smells like lavender fabric softener and the fancy vanilla linen spray Pepa bought for him, is permeated by the overwhelming scent of Texas nights - filled with crackling humidity wrapped in silvery starlight - and velvety pink peonies.

He squeezes his eyes shut, breathing it in, inhaling deeply to his core like it might allow him to hold onto this moment forever. When at last his lungs protest, forcing him to exhale, his eyes flutter open again.

Eddie closes the door to the safe, hearing it shut with a satisfying click.

"Thank you," he whispers, letting his gaze drift to the letter once more before he walks down the hall to pass it to its rightful owner. His son. Their son. A living, breathing tether between past, present and future.

He knocks on the doorframe, briefly saddened by the sight of Shannon and Christopher’s picture turned face down on the desk. It only makes him more sure he’s doing the right thing.

“Hey, buddy…”

For additional Feels™️ may I recommend

#hippo gets mail #jfc i must go cry now #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #shannon diaz #saturn tag 🪐#7x1 coda #i guess?#hippo writes #fic title ask

97 notes · View notes

eli0004 · 4 months

Note

since you don't do sub content, could you do something fluffy with jean? anything if you want

Anon, your wish is my command! 🖤

Dating Jean Kirstein-

Synopsis: Headcannons for a Modern AU! Version of your favorite horse boy

Rating: SFW

Warnings: one slightly suggestive hc, implied body image issues, jean has a history of toxic relationships

Ok, so first of all, Jean isn’t your typical boyfriend. He’s boyfriend: Feminist Edition✨ and body positivity king, hello?

He’s also, as we all know, a huge simp. But a legitimate simp, “spend all his money on makeup and call him bro” type simp.

Because of that, he’s had a few really shitty relationships where he was badly taken advantage of, and he always vows to really assess a person’s green AND red flags before proceeding.

It never works out that way, obviously. Bro wouldn’t know a red flag if you shoved it up his ass 🚩. He sees a pretty girl and is suddenly color blind.

Because of his history in that aspect, when you first confess your feelings to each other he’s absolutely terrified that it’s one big joke, or destined to fail.

But as you both get closer, he lets his gaurd down, and bro is down so bad.

You say “jump” an jean says “how high”

He is 110% that guy who notices everything you do with your appearance. I mean come on “You have really pretty black hair.” But that’s also just because he doesn’t understand the whole “it’s not polite to stare” thing.

Jean when you do literally anything: 👁️👄👁️

He’s a gym bro, change my mind (you can’t 😈)

If you’re insecure Jean is one of those guys that will ask you how much you weigh, and you’ll be like “damn that’s really icky and disrespectful” until you see him placing that exact amount of weight on the bench.

He’s like “see, you’re not too heavy for me” wink wink

He’s so endearingly stupid

If you’re not insecure tho, Jean will be there to hype you tf up when you’re feeling confident

“Hell yeah, look at those glutes babe!” *smack*

Either way he’s obsessed with you, regardless of what your body looks like or whether or not you like it.

Modern Jean 100% has a minor Fratccent from his college years.

Once or twice, he will accidentally call you bro, but he’ll be so apologetic TT you can’t even be upset.

He’s the type of guy that will walk around with his hand on your ass instead of your waist if you’re ok with that

His shit eating grin when someone mentions it, he’s like 😏😏😏

Scratch his head with your nails, DO IT

This man will be snoring immediately, it’s his favorite way to fall asleep.

I’m also a firm believer that modern!jean is not a natural blonde, so from time to time he’ll let you put streaks of vivid color in it, bonus points if you match with him

He’s actually a pretty good cook, so when you’re feeling homesick he’ll prepare your comfort meals for you

His love languages are physical touch, and words of affirmation. Jean will actually spontaneously combust if you compliment his biceps or tell him he has pretty eyes

He’s also totally comfortable with his masculinity so he’d be thrilled to be involved in your skincare routine, do face masks, let you clean up his brows, put makeup on him etc etc.

In fact, if you’ve had a hard week, he’d be the one to come home with a bottle of wine, face masks, nail polish and snacks. Top tier self care night, would sit on the couch with you and all your plushies and watch love island or something 😭

He gets so into the drama, it’s actually hilarious. By the end of it he’s rolling his eyes and trash talking at the tv

Will get wine drunk and dance in the living room with you

Honestly, we all just need to get ourselves a Jean. 😔💞

#aot x reader #aot smut #aot x y/n #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan headcanons #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirsten x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein x you

122 notes · View notes

earthearthearththearth · 9 months

Text

⚾Scout Dating Headcanons⚾

And I could probably think of more

💞It takes him a surprisingly long time to ask you out

💞He lives fast, probably dies fast, but romance? He wants that to be quick too. Fortunatly for you, he learned a few things from spy’s lessons. Like taking his time a little bit.

💞Being too forceful is why he things Miss Pauling was a no-go. By the time he starts to like you, he’s completely over her. He can only handle so much in his tiny little brain.

💞I can’t tell whether he would try to have another prom with you. Probably not. I think he would stick by your side and show off a lot.

💞”Need help carrying that?” It’s a loaf of bread.

💞He carries it anyways. Sometimes it embarrasses you, but the rest of the guys know his ways.

💞After a while, probably when you two finally get a moment alone-he’ll be damned if he hears about this from the team-he finally asks you out. And it is stupid.

🗨"Hey toots, how about we make like a two piece chicken and be together.”

🗨"Hey, you like things that are fast? Cause I know a guy.”

🗨"Can’t spell scout without u”

🗨”You’re hot and I like that”

💞So you say yeah, you’ll date him. Maybe at first you’re a little questionable, but it’s not like you have a lot of options anyway.

💞At first it’s what you would expect. Wanna bang? Do you wanna bang? Do you want to bang? Or perhaps you want to bang. And do you want to bang?”

💞You probably say sure at some point, but that takes a while. You’re not exactly jumping in.

💞He’s cute and he’s friendly to you, like a dog in some ways, but you are constantly on a battlefield. You hadn’t had this planned exactly.

💞So the actual dating.

💞Always touching you. Hand on the waist, butt, shoulder, arm around the shoulder or waist. He probably wants you to sit on his lap, but he can’t sit still for two seconds. Lots of quick kisses.

💞A fan of sloppy makeouts. It’s very him-ish. This has lead to sex on more tha one occasion, but it’s nice when it’s just some smoochin’ too.

💞I’ve seen a lot of people say he twitches like a dog in his sleep. He does.

💞Likes to pick you up and swing you around if he can. Sometimes he can, sometimes he can’t. Depends on the time of day.

💞Very cheesy pickup lines. The amount of times you hear, “Come here often?” is actually insane.

💞Movie nights! No he can’t sit still, but I think he loves zombie movies. You guys talk through the whole thing lol.

💞He infodumps to you and you do the same. He is a suprisingly good listener. A very active one yes, but he remembers everything. Or at least he tries to.

💞He is constantly staring at you. He is such a goober.

💞All in all, he is just so in love and just has a great time knowing you are his.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #scout tf2 #scout team fortress 2 #scout x reader #x reader #headcanons #tf2 x reader #tf2 headcanons

218 notes · View notes

naavispider · 6 months

Note

Quaritch helping Spider re-apply his stripes. That’s it that’s the prompt 💖

Thank you! I loved this one 💞💙 Words: 2.6k

💙 Stripes 💙

“Hey! Hands off.”

Spider looked up conspicuously from where he’d been attempting to open the drawstring of Wainfleet’s pack. He held his hands up in a sign of surrender, an air of annoyance settling heavily on his shoulders.

“The hell?” Quaritch’s second in command complained across the clearing. “Since when are you allowed to go through our shit?”

Spider scowled. It wasn’t like he was up to no good. He wasn’t searching for weapons or anything like that.

Quaritch looked over from where he’d been standing sentry on the outskirts of the camp, rifle in hand.

“What are you after anyway?”

“Your mom.”

Quaritch jerked his chin at Wainfleet, his highly trained ears picking up the accusatory tone in Spider’s voice. He strode over. “What are you up to, kid?”

Spider tried to repress his irritation. It was none of their business, for Eywa’s sake. Where was the trust? “Have you got a bowl?”

Quaritch’s recombinant eyebrows rose an inch higher up his brow, while Wainfleet’s eyes narrowed. “A bowl?” he repeated.

Spider nodded.

“Now what do you want a bowl for?”

He had to roll his eyes. He couldn’t help it. He hated having to explain every little thing to them. Unlike with Wainfleet, he chose not to take the piss. “To grind yovo berries in, if you gotta know.”

He stared at Quaritch, who seemed to be assessing him.

“Is that a good enough reason?”

Quaritch looked from Spider’s angry expression, over to the pile of berries he’d collected, and finally back to the fading blue stripes on Spider’s arms and chest. He pursed his lips and Spider wondered if he was putting two and two together.

“Lyle, grab a tin.”

Wainfleet mumbled mutinously as he got up from his position resting against a tree trunk. Spider didn’t know if Quaritch had realised what he was up to, but he was grateful - and surprised - that he had decided to help.

Spider smiled sarcastically as he caught the recom-sized camping bowl that Wainfleet threw in his direction. “Thanks so much.”

“Anything to help my favourite feral man-child,” Wainfleet replied with an equal amount of sarcasm as Quaritch returned back to standing guard.

“I’m the only feral man-child here.”

“Precisely,” muttered Wainfleet darkly.

Spider flipped him off. He retreated back to his pile of berries and scooped them into the tin. Then, he left Wainfleet dozing against the tree and wandered over to the nearest bladder polyp, plucking it carefully at its root to preserve the juice inside. He was still missing a few of the other ingredients to maximise the dye, but he was working with what he had. Returning to the tin of berries, he stuck his tongue between his teeth as he squeezed the sap from out of the polyp, adding it to the fruit.

He had been away from home for what must be two weeks by now, and his stripes had started to fade a few days back. He’d noticed it almost immediately, and without their colour staining his skin he felt like a different person. They’d unintentionally become his trademark. However, it was about more than just retaining his identity whilst stuck playing House with the enemy. The marks gave him confidence and reminded him that he had something to go back to after this was all over - people who would miss him. Without them, he felt physically different too. Almost colder, even. Like they provided a protection he didn’t know he’d been carrying. He knew it was stupid, but deep down he sometimes wondered if Eywa would still be able to recognise him. She’d looked out for him his whole life, Spider believed that. Ever since he was small. Too small to be outside in an environment that wasn’t created for him. She had protected him - there was no other explanation. And now, he was losing his only connection he had left with her.

He picked up a wide stick that he’d found earlier, perfectly sized for grinding, and began to mash the fruit. When it was a decent consistency (he had to return for another polyp) he dipped his middle finger in and slowly began to layer the mixture over the stripes on his legs. Small, narrow strokes that mimicked the natural patterns of the Na’vi. It had taken him years to perfect, spending hours with Kiri trying to get it right. He remembered back when he first started doing this. He must have been about seven, and had decided to just rub the blue fruit over himself in lines. It looked ridiculous. Everyone either laughed or pitied him.

The only person who didn’t was Kiri.

His heart lurched as he realised how much he missed her.

Thankfully, a scoff pulled him from his thoughts. He spun around ready to snap at Wainfleet, already on the defensive, only to find the recom watching him with amusement, not malice.

“That’s real cute, kid.”

“Er… thanks,” Spider replied, not believing Wainfleet for one moment.

“Where did you learn that?” For some reason, he seemed genuinely interested.

Spider shrugged. “I dunno. I just sort of experimented until I got it right. It’s missing the tstxa'a juice and Spartan flowers, but times are desperate.” He said it jovially, but he didn’t miss how Wainfleet’s ears flicked back when he mentioned his captivity.

“You made it up yourself?” He made a low whistle. “You could have been a right little scientist if you were born on Earth.”

The thought made Spider physically cringe.

“Aw, come on! Did you never wonder what your life would have been like if you were raised on your actual home planet?” “Nope,” he replied. He could answer with absolute certainty.

Wainfeet frowned disbelievingly. “Never?”

“That place isn’t my home. I don’t belong there any more than I belong on Naranawm, or anywhere else. Eywa'eveng is my home.”

“But you must have been curious?”

Spider paused circling his thigh with the paint. “Would you be curious? If the planet was dying and it was thanks to your race that did it?”

Wainfleet pulled a contemplative face. “I think so, yeah.”

“Yeah, well… Are you honestly telling me it’s that great?”

Wainfleet’s shoulders sagged infinitesimally, though he kept up a good show of bravado. “I guess not. But at least it has decent hot dogs.”

Spider couldn’t imagine why warm canines were of any benefit to him, and he didn’t care to ask. He returned to painting his skin. His ankles and calves had pretty much dried off by now, so he gently brushed off the powdery excess and decided to tackle his left arm.

After about thirty minutes, Quaritch swapped out with Mansk for guard duty, and of course came strolling over to Spider.

“What are you up to?” His eyes widened curiously when he saw Spider with the tin of paint.

Spider was currently struggling to apply the dye far enough over his right shoulder. He hadn’t yet thought of a plan about how to do his back. “Nothing,” he replied bluntly.

Unfortunately, Quaritch ignored the blatant hint and crouched down beside him, watching him work.

“The cavalry's arrived, kid.” Wainfleet looked relieved as he sat up from his nap. “For a while I was worried he’d ask me to help him.”

Spider grit his teeth. As if he’d sink that low.

Quaritch watched him thoughtfully, which Spider hated. He wasn’t used to being studied so hard, especially not by someone as physically intimidating as Miles Quaritch. “Do you want a hand?”

“Yeah… I think I’m good, thanks.”

Quaritch just looked amused and slightly baffled. “Right.” He paused. “And how exactly do you plan on doing your back?”

It was an uncomfortable question - one that made Spider put down his tin of dye and stop trying to reach some unreachable area. “I’ll manage,” he growled.

He finally looked at Quaritch, who held his gaze. He didn’t know what the man was waiting for, but he found out when the tin was snatched from his hands and he was nudged gently forwards so he fell onto his hands. “What are you doing?” he exclaimed indignantly.

Quaritch shuffled victoriously behind him, tin in hand and appraising the faint marks on his son’s back. “Lending a hand,” he explained condescendingly. “You do want your back done, don’t you?”

For a moment, Spider was tempted to say no, he didn’t. But as soon as the words bubbled to his mouth, they died on his tongue. He did want his back done, and for that to happen he knew he’d have to accept some form of help. He looked behind him to see that Quaritch was smirking, and he bristled. He knew Quaritch was enjoying this. But he didn’t hate it enough to draw a line.

“Just… go over the marks that are already there.”

“You got it, tiger.”

“And don’t go over the lines.”

“Okay.”

Spider waited in anticipation to feel Quaritch’s touch. Just before he felt a finger brush against him, he blurted out again.

“Just a thin layer. The dye’s strong.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Eywa,” he cursed under his breath, in disbelief that he was letting this happen. The only person he ever asked to help him was Kiri. This felt wrong, like a violation of something special that only the two of them did.

Times are desperate, he thought to himself.

He was able to stop himself from flinching away when Quaritch gripped his shoulder, and with the other hand began to trace the intricate markings that had become so important to him.

It felt wrong. But he didn’t shake the man away either. It was a sensation he needed to get used to - Quaritch’s fingers were larger and more calloused than Kiri’s, but he applied the dye with just the same level of care. It surprised Spider how gently the recom went. How slow and careful his strokes were.

Eywa, he missed the sensation. If he closed his eyes and didn’t think too hard, he could almost imagine he was back home at High Camp with Kiri, and everything was back to the way it should be. His back muscles slowly started to relax, and both were quiet for a while.

“So who normally helps you?” Quaritch broke the silence.

“Kiri,” Spider answered without realising.

“And who’s that?”

“She’s just my friend,” he answered truthfully. He didn’t like to talk about her with Quaritch.

“Is that the five fingered one?” Quaritch asked from behind. Spider imagined understanding dawning on the recom’s face as he remembered their initial encounter.

“The one you were going to hurt? Yep.”

An awkwardness hung in the air around them. It surrounded the pair, making neither sure what to say next. Quaritch’s finger dipped back into the dye and continued to trace Spider’s skin lightly.

“We’re not out to hurt people, you know that right? We just got a mission to complete.”

“Sounds about right. I wonder if Hitler thought the same.”

Quaritch pulled away, using the hand that wasn’t coated in paint to twist Spider around to face him. “Are you serious?”

“What?” Spider challenged.

“Hitler, really?”

The fury in Quaritch’s eyes was matched only by another expression that wasn’t so easily placed. After a moment of staring at him, Spider finally realised what it was - hurt.

A flicker of doubt flared in Spider’s chest. Had he just said something wrong? He tried to remember everything Norm had told him about that particular war in Earth’s history. He was fairly sure he remembered right. It was a genocide.

“You’re young. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quaritch decided, spinning Spider around a little more forcefully than before, and returning to the stripes. “Never compare me to scum like that again.”

“Sorry,” Spider mumbled sarcastically. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was apologising for.

Just as he thought silence had returned to the pair, Quaritch started up again. “Hitler was an evil piece of shit pretending to be a human being.”

“The parallels continue,” Spider muttered before he could stop himself.

“Jesus Christ, Miles!” Spider was once again surprised at the outrage in the Colonel’s voice. “I know what you think of me. I know I’m playing for a different team than you. But I ain’t no genocidal maniac.”

You killed women and babies when you destroyed Hometree. You didn’t care that the clan would be decimated. You’re a war criminal. This time, he bit his tongue.

As if reading his thoughts, Quaritch continued. “Miles Quaritch… that’s a different ballgame. But I’m not that man.”

Spider didn’t reply.

“You hear me? Spider?”

He didn’t know how much he agreed with the morally ambiguous statement, but he backed down anyway. “Okay…”

For some unbeknownst reason, he felt himself feeling… bad. Which only confused him further. Now he was feeling guilty over upsetting the man’s feelings? Well, no. That wasn’t exactly true. But he was more confused than ever. Clearly, Quaritch believed he was a new person. A fresh start. But did Spider? Could he afford this version of his father a second chance? He didn’t know that he could.

But it didn’t matter anyway because even if the recombinant version of Quaritch was completely separated morally and ethically from the original, this version still had crimes to answer for. The first and most major of which being colonising, although it was closely followed by kidnapping, Spider thought bitterly.

A few long moments passed, and Spider started to suspect that Quaritch was using the time to calm down rather than because he needed more time to finish the stripes.

“This is a piece of piss,” Quaritch finally broke the silence.

Immediately, Spider tried to pull away dubiously, but Quaritch’s large hand kept him in place.

“Relax, I just mean it’s easy.”

“Are you going over the lines?” Spider demanded. He wasn’t going to sit here if Quaritch was just going to fuck it up and make it look stupid.

“No. It looks great.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Trust me. Lyle! Come here and vouch for me…”

Wainfleet groaned, but dutifully set his holotablet aside and came around Spider’s back. “Shit, Colonel, that ain’t half bad.”

“See, what did I tell you?”

“Hey Z! Come over here!” Spider groaned. The last thing he wanted was for the whole squad to be party to the humiliating experience.

Zdinarsk approached with similar disdain to Wainfleet at first, but quickly recovered when she smirked her approval at the Colonel’s artistic licence.

“Are you done yet?” he asked.

“Yep, all finished!”

“Right. Can I see?” He wasn’t about to take Quaritch and the recoms’ word for it.

Quaritch humoured him by pulling out his holotablet and taking a photo, handing it to Spider. Amazingly, it didn’t look half as shit as Spider had been expecting. The patterns danced across his skin in a decent impression of the Na’vi’s, just as he remembered. He felt far more like himself.

“Not bad,” he sniffed.

“That all I get?”

“I’m not thanking you. I never asked you, remember?”

Wainfleet chuckled and Zdinarsk wolf whistled Spider’s boldness.

“I mean, that’s true,” Wainfleet helpfully supported.

Quaritch’s tail swished behind him as he stood. “Fine. But don’t come running to me when they start to fade again.”

The brief joy at having his stripes back died in Spider’s chest. It would take them another couple of weeks to fade. He wouldn’t still be here then, would he?

Quaritch brushed the dirt from his pant leg, swinging his rifle back over his shoulder. He turned to the rest of the camp and announced his next order in a voice stronger than steel. “Start packing. We move in five.”

#avatar the way of water #spider socorro #miles quaritch #miles spider socorro #recom quaritch #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar wow fanfic #avatar fanfiction #avatar spider #my stuff: stripes #oneshot #ask

109 notes · View notes

neet-elite · 2 months

Note

not sure if you write for sydney but consider: dumbification. just edging him, fingering him open until he's almost sobbing and all his big boy thoughts are gone and all he can do is whimper and beg for mommy to let her dumb little angel cum. 💞

i love sydney ahh... although i've never wrote for them, so please excuse any OOC content!! calling them an angel is so perfect though </3

MDNI ♡ Warnings: submissive sydney, dumbification, anal fingering, mommy kink, religious contexts (i know this is vague, i just use a lot of religious words because... well, sydney.)

WC: 1077

Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his own mind, he knows exactly what he's trying to say. A mix of don't stop and wait a second caught on the tip of his tongue, prompting it to loll out instead of providing anything of use to him at the moment, muted taps of his drool hitting the floor to join the other slick sounds filling the room. But you can hardly expect anything more from him when you're knuckles deep in his ass, now can you?

But still, he tries for you. Tries purely because you've asked. Now, whether or not he remembers what you've asked him is another question entirely, mind melted under the curl of your fingers, head dizzy with how difficult it is to try and remember to simply breathe, taking big gasping gulps of air to cope with how good you're making him feel, and you've barely even touched his cock yet— you're exactly the type of person he was warned to avoid, but he can't think of as to why right now. Too busy trying to quell his shaking thighs under the strain of trying to keep himself bent over prettily, when all he really wants to do is rut into the ground below; he doesn't even care what's under him, so long as he can cum for you. It's the sole reason he exists right now, dumb little boy with a leaking cock; all for you. All because of you.

"What— nn, what did you— Ah!" you cut him off with an expert flick of your wrist, a single finger stroking down his throbbing cock placed between his thighs like some sort of tucked dog tail. He bucks involuntarily anyway, swinging his hips in the air for just a little more friction— anything at this point, immediately forgetting the rest of his sentence when you introduce a new finger in his ass, stretching his hole out for your own enjoyment at this point. It's sick how much he enjoys it, right?

"I said—" you start, emphasising your words with an unfair shove of your hand deeper into his hole, finger fucking a high-pitched whine to spill from him, prompting him to rock forward with your thrust in a seeking of more. "You're still holding back. C'mon, sooner you let go the sooner y'can cum."

As if it's that easy, he muses. And yet still, the drawl your voice carries draws him closer, sinking further into your touch with every greedy inch you fuck into him, every brush of your free hand against his red hot cock sending shivers of pleasure down his spine; whispering sweet nothings of you're right, it feels too good not to let go, so go on, it'll feel even better when you completely give in.

But he's trying so hard so remain at least somewhat present for you, to keep some coherence to fully appreciate your sinful touch. Despite the copious amounts of drool that spills from his tainted lips, coating his bitten arm tacky with saliva, the thick drip of precum drooling down his thighs, asshole leaking with the amount of spit you've fucked down his hole. In spite of that, he wants to properly thank you for showing him the light.

That is, until your not so innocent confession of: "You're so pretty when you fall apart, angel." hits his ears and he whines. All needy and feminine, choked in his throat when you add the extra stimulation of meek pets against the length of his cock. Ah, he's so sensitive there! Practically begging for it by the way he wiggles his ass back at you, he knows, acting out of pure impulse rather than taking a moment to consider his actions; successfully fucked stupid on your mere fingers, he's got no hope in Hell of ever taking anything else at this rate.

What remains of him is a single thought, humping the air as instinct takes hold of him for perhaps the first time in his life. A full body shiver in response to your strokes, both on his cock and in his ass, nudging against that sensitive spot while tenderly caring for his too sensitive tip. You've really left him no other choice, huh?

"Wanna— um, ah— Can I—"

The sound of your disapproving tuts only serves to turn him on some more, thick globs of precum dripping from his tip and onto your expert fingers. God, you sound so mean. He can't work out why you're tutting right now, not when his hole tries to suck your fingers in further. You'll have to clue him in.

"Nuh uh, you forgot the magic word, angel."

And despite your harmless enough words, the little pet name tacked on at the end of your scolding causes his hips to thrust harder. Only once or twice, bouncing his ass back against your fingers working his hole open like he was... A slut, or something. Even just thinking of the words has him trembling, biting down on his bottom lip in an attempt to remain composed enough to answer your plea.

"M-Mommy— please, can— Can I cum now?"

Ever the sadist, you have him wait. Not long, he intrinsically understands, but it feels like for fucking ever when you're fucking him so well like this. Leaving him a gasping, moaning, drooling mess on the floor because you said so. Isn't that deplorable? That contrary to his heavy upbringing, here he is asking you for permission. Effectively praying to you, you who is currently defiling him from behind like he was a common whore. It's disgusting, goes against his very being.

Which is why he needs to cum so badly for you.

"Go on, then." you resign, apathy rich in your tone for him to whine at. Not from displeasure, but from plain hedonistic enjoyment.

So he does. Cums, that is. Right into your open and wanting palm, shooting his load all over your fingers like he was made solely for this. Greedy groans escape him, followed by a mantra of your name; a hymn of devotion to another God. One whose fingers still yet remain inside his hole, stretching and scissoring him through his orgasm to leave him choking on air.

Only when he's finally done riding the last wave do you start again, drilling him into the ground without much effort at all, his lungs heaving to catch up to your own version of praying.

Devotion, perhaps.

#💌mail #dol smut #degrees of lewdity smut #sydney the faithful smut #first time writing sydney please be kind <3

39 notes · View notes

jhugas · 1 year

Text

‘JUST FOLLOW ME’- Jung Hoseok

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Please be aware that English is not my native language, if you have any correction, don’t be scared to tell me! And if you have any tips, I’ll gladly take them! Have a good time :)

Pairing: Soloidol!Hoseok X Soloidol!Reader, Idol au, rivals.

Main genre: smut (making out)

Then: slight angst

Summary: You and your rival, Hoseok, have to make out in front of the paparazzis to make them believe you’re dating. How will this go?

Warning/tags: making out, idol rival fake dating, public make out, filmed make out, paparazzis filming, rivals forced fake dating.

Word count: ~1k

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You’re a very famous idol, known internationally. However, you’re not the only one, Hoseok, your very first rival is also very famous internationally.

It all started in 2013, the year you both debuted. You debuted in different companies, but your debuts were in the same month. And the two companies being rivals, they putted pressure on you two to be the biggest solo Idol:

“Dance better than him!”

“Make your debuts more impactful than hers.”

“Look at the views! Is he doing better??”

“Pff, her music video isn’t even well made.”

“WE will be better than them.”

You both knew each other very well since you were analyzing and criticizing each other since your debuts. And you both knew very well that you hated each other, the dirty looks you two were giving weren’t lying. Somehow though, your fans never noticed.

Turns out, your achievements are almost the same, views almost identical, and fandoms having the same amount of fans. If your fandoms were always fighting, it would be alright… but that’s not the case. They’ve been begging for years to have a collaboration.

“Imagine y/n X Hoseok!!”

“I would love to see them have a duet”

“I think they are secretly dating.”

They always believed that those dirty looks you were throwing were seductive and shy.

“Just look at how he looked at her!!”

“When she looked away while he was staring at her💞”

And all of this brought you here… in front of him, your back against the car and his hands cupping your face.

Due to you two not winning as many fans as before, the companies thought that making you two fake date, kiss in front of the car and “getting caught by the paparazzis” on purpose, would bring more fans to the both of you, “assemble” your fandoms. So here you are…

It’s late, maybe around 9pm, the award ceremony just ended and now you have to get in your role. You go outside in front of the black car that’s supposed to be for him, and you wait… it is a warm night, honestly nothing to complain, you won so many awards. You stand there silently, looking around to possibly see him as the paparazzis are trying to guess what you’re doing here.

“They have no idea” you think to yourself, and that’s when you saw him. He approaches you with so much confidence that he looks stupid.

“What is wrong with him”. He finally catches up to you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

‘Hey baby, what are you doing here?’

He gently asked with a soft voice, tired from his previous performance.

‘I was waiting for you…’

You force yourself to smile.

‘You know we can’t talk here. We should go somewhere else’

You have to follow the script. The dialogue is very important as fans will try to read on your lips. You have to play the stupid game 100%.

‘No, I wanna talk here. No one can see us.’

People can definitely see you, that’s the whole purpose.

‘What do you want love?’

He asked with a sweet voice, squinting his eyes to show his concern.

Silence.

‘A…’

Say it. He looks at you so carefully. It’s almost as he actually cares.

‘A what?’

He whispered nicely. That wasn’t in the script. Was he actually trying to help you? To make you feel comfortable?

‘A kiss. I want a kiss.’

You eventually managed to say these four words.

‘All you had to do is ask…’

He said in a playful tone before smiling and leaning in. He puts his hands to cup your face but you stop him.

‘Are we sure? Is this really a good idea?’

You whispered. Your lips being so close to his, almost touching and hiding behind his thumb so that no one can read them.

‘Just follow me’

He whispered back, then slowly pushed his soft lips against yours.

He doesn’t wanna lose any time. He wants to finish this the quickest possible. He takes your top lip in between his and you do as he said: follow him, follow along.

His hands moving up and down your curves, and sometimes pulling you aggressively by your waist to bring you even closer. Your left hand on his shoulder and your right one sliding to his hair, messing up the work of his hairdresser. He licks your lip, he doesn’t hold back nor stop. You suddenly pull back to breathe.

‘What are you doing?’

He asked aggressively.

‘Breathing, give me two seconds’

You answer trying to catch your breath. He scoffs. He watches your body up and down, slides his hands under your thighs, and lifts you up. Your legs around his waist, he leans in and kisses you again passionately.

You finally relax and give in, kissing him back with passion. Accepting the fact that he was carrying your whole weight, lifting you up from the ground, and in front of so many paparazzis knowing that almost everyone will see you in this position.

He takes a step back and opens the door of the car as he kisses you now from your jaw to your neck. He gets inside the backseats, your legs still around him, and lays you down softly. You grab his neck as the only thing paparazzis could see right now was his feet still out the door. He pulls back, gets to the door then closes it, locking you both in the car.

You’re still laying on the seats and he looks at you, hair messy and lips tinted by your lipstick.

‘You okay? They’re not supposed to see us right now’

He asked with siren eyes, breathing hard.

‘Yeah… I’m alright…’

You answered, noticing the bulge in his pants. You laugh inside.

‘Are you okay??’

You asked back.

‘Yea’

He licked his lips then bit his bottom ones.

‘I’m alright.’

Thank you for reading !

141 notes · View notes

aphelion-i-c · 3 months

Note

hello ^_^! I really loved your LNY chongyue art 🤤💞💞 i was actually wondering if you happened to have or know where to find a reference for the patterns on his arms since you drew them so detailed! That would be super helpful, sorry to trouble you :')! Thanks!!

thank you so much for liking it 🥹🥹💖 my chongyue liker friend actually sent me a bunch of screenshots from dillongoo's LEGEND OF CHONGYUE arknights animation!! i took some artistic liberties while drawing it but these reference images really helped and it was way better than attempting to look at other official artwork lolol

im so glad someone else noticed the stupid amount of detail i drew in his arm tattoo because i genuinely fretted over it JDJSHDKS ,, its no trouble at all really, i love when i get asks :D

#hen's asks #CHONGYUEEEEEEEEE (SCREAMING) (CRYING) (THROWING UP)#i really wanna draw him again.... 🥹#arknights

22 notes · View notes

noodlesfics · 1 year

Note

If you are still taking requests, I would love to see headcanons about Erwin being in a secret relationship with a (scout) reader and then how he reacts when people find out, I think it would be funny XD (also idk what genders you write for but if you could write this for a male or gender neutral reader that would be great 💞)

Totally no pressure though, feel free to ignore this if it’s not to your liking ^^

Erwins reaction to everyone finding out about your secret relationship

A/N~HI MY LOVE, I WRITE FOR ANY GENDER THAT PEOPLE WANT! I MAINLY STICK TO WRITING IN GENDER NEUTRAL SO THAT IT APPLIES TO ANYONE, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ❤️

He wanted to keep your relationship a secret so that it wouldn't disrupt with your work, also because you both knew a certain glasses wearer would freak the fuck out. And it was certain that you were both not mentally prepared for that moment.

You both knew you couldn't hide it forever, it was hard enough to spend quality time with one another due to the sheer amount of work that you had to do. Especially with Erwin as a Commander and you as a Lieutenant, you only really saw each other in meetings and it was really starting to bother both of you.

It was late at night when you headed down to the empty hall to get your dinner. However, you didn't expect to see Erwin there either eating his missed dinner. You both ate together and enjoyed each others company, not knowing when the next time you will be able to do this will be.

You were both sharing a kiss when the main doors opened, you both broke apart in hopes that no one saw, but that was not the case.

The most high pitched scream erupted throughout the hall, waking every single person up.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD! I KNEW IT, LEVI GET YOUR SHORT ASS DOWN HERE YOU OWE ME MONEY!!!"

It was a surprise to say the least. Due to Hange's god awful screaming, large swarms of people began to appear in the hall to see what all the noise was about. You both just sat there, red in the face and not knowing what to do.

Immediately, people began to realise what was happening. Hange was in a burst of energy and was running laps around the premises whilst continuing her excited screaming.

Levi soon appeared and was not happy with the fact that Hange was right.

"You stupid brats! You just cost me most of my savings aswell as the fact that shitty four-eyes was right!" He was so angry.

As much as he didn't want to admit it though, he was happy to see you two together and happy as one.

"WHEN IS THE WEDDING!? Oh lord, I need to buy my dress! Petra let's go, we are going DRESS SHOPPING!!" God bless the walls she needs to calm down. All the shops were closed due to the fact that it was nearly 1AM and the nearest town was miles away. That didn't stop her though, she stayed all night and purchased a dress.

Everyone was shocked that the Commander and Lieutenant were in a relationship. This was the most exciting gossip that they had heard in months. This was definitely shocking.

Soon enough, to both of your reliefs, Levi literally kicked everybody put of the hall so that you could spend some time together.

You looked at Erwin and you both could not help the smiles appearing on your faces. It was sooner than you would have likes your relationship to be made public, and it was not announced in the most ideal way. However, it felt like a massive relief to be able to be seen with each other and not arouse suspicion.

"Can you guys not kiss in front of me? That's fucking disgusting."

The next day...

Hange came back with both her and Petra's bridesmaid dresses. You kept telling her that you weren't getting married, your relationship was just made public.

She wasn't having it.

"Y/N, I don't care. I have my dress and am expecting an invitation pronto!" Looks like your having a wedding now.

What you didn't know was that she got specially made dresses for Sawney and Bean.

#anime #aot x reader #erwin smith #erwin x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #hange zoe #wings of freedom #secret relationship #secret

93 notes · View notes

babybratzmaraj · 2 months

Text

Some Nerve…

Part 6 Of Poems Of The Mad Black Woman🤺💞

A/N: I promise I wasnt mad while writing this😭😭😭 this is me interpreting a situation in my eyes, scoping the scenery out and i was partially right in this part. as I told megan, “breaking soft girl for ruff ryder” like, comment n reblog the love will be rewarded!💞💨

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @iamrheaspeaks (ask/comment to be added!)

Ho, you really got some nerve. You mad because I'm finally happy? You mad that even though you did wrong by me and I forgave you, that I found a better replacement? Bitch you the slow AND the ditzy.

I take that back, you don’t deserve the ditzy title because bitch you qualify for compensation from the secretary of state for how slow you are. No amount of tutors, smart Albert Einstein ass niggas we got in the world, you're still the stupid bitch everyone knows and loves.

You ain’t shit. Ya fake, ya phony and you sorry! The triple whammies that should be more of for you. Yo attitude is less than, bend the sign back, I'm greater than! I can make shit shake you can't even make a piss tinkle.

I say all that to say this:

What The Fuck Was The Point If You Had None In The First Place?

#mother maraj words of wisdom #poem of the mad black women #bratz be writing #Spotify

7 notes · View notes

hippolotamus · 9 months

Text

A little Twylexis ficlet thingy I wrote today under the cut to deal with some stuff. I hope you enjoy ☺️ (fyi: if anything vaguely medical isn’t your jam maybe it’s not for you. There’s nothing explicitly discussed, more about med side effects) 💞

“Here, babe, I made you some chicken noodle soup.” Twyla carries a bowl and some crackers on a tray into their bedroom. “Do you think you can sit?”

“Yeah. Think so.” Alexis uses her hands to clutch at the sheets and push herself to a sitting position. It uses what little energy she has, but she’s hopeful that eating something will help.

“Thanks,” she adds when her wife rests the tray over her lap. There are few things Alexis looks forward to more than Twyla’s chicken noodle when she’s not feeling well.

She raises a spoonful to her lips, ready to savor every delicious bite. Instead she nearly chokes, trying not to spit it out on the duvet. The flavor is all wrong, sour and bitter rather than savory with just the right amount of saltiness.

“Nooooo,” Alexis whines, dropping her spoon on the tray. “Not the chicken noodle.”

“I’m so sorry.” Twyla takes her hand, tangling their fingers together. “I was hoping it wouldn’t start this soon. Or maybe not at all. What else can I get you?”

It feels petty and childish, but Alexis doesn’t want anything else. She wants what her wife made for her, for it to taste like it’s supposed to. The doctor told them to expect this. Still, she wants to pout and cry and demand that things go back the way they were.

“I want my soup,” she mumbles, then turns to look at Twyla, certain she looks as miserable as she feels. “This is just the beginning. What else is this stupid treatment going to take from me?”

She already knows some of the answers to that question, but pushes them from her mind.

“First of all, that stupid treatment is what’s going to get you better,” Twyla says. “I know that’s easy for me to say when you’re the one who has to go through this. But I’m going to be with you through everything, okay? If I have to make a thousand meals until we find something you like, well… that’s just what it takes.”

God, Alexis loves her.

“I know. And that means the world to me.” Alexis leans against Twyla, resting her head in the crook of her neck. “If you feel like it, can we try grilled cheese with tomato slices?”

Twyla hums and presses a kiss to the crown of her hair. “Anything for you, babe.”

Alexis lets her eyes drift closed and smiles to herself. At least nothing can take this from her.

#twylexis #twylexis ficlet #tw medical #tw disease #idek how to tag this #hippo writes #personal #alexis x twyla #sc ficlet

38 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 10 months

Note

Arlecchino theater anon here, glad you liked that idea! I also thoroughly enjoyed the Arlie gf texts you made, particularly her and Bina putting together a list of banger plays to take reader to.

This time I'd like to talk about Sandrone, since I find it utterly risible how little love she gets. I HC that one of the reasons Sandrone is known for having a bad attitude is because she's only really talkative when it comes to her work, and as a massive perfectionist she's notoriously difficult to work with. She insists on building/repairing all her automations by hand instead of relying on mass production to maximize quality (notice how the factory in Liyue was Dottore's and not Sandrone's!). Having absolutely zero tolerance for incompetence, she'll likely prefer working alone whenever possible.

Now, imagine a reader who is well-versed in engineering (maybe a Kshahrewar student expelled for dabbling in mechanical lifeforms, or a Fontaine mechanic) drafted into a team to assist with Sandrone's work to speed up production a little. Everyone was ecstatic to collaborate with a genius of her caliber, but the experience was quite different from what you imagined. When it was time for everyone's work to be inspected, after just a once-over Sandrone launched into a tirade pointing out every last imperfection and the exact impacts they would have on automation performance, with no shortage of harsh words sprinkled in. The others looked like they either wanted to cry or argue back, but not you. You weren't even the most talented or driven of the bunch, but you instinctively understood this was the rightful arrogance of a master and also found her voice and angy face really nice. Thus, it was easy for you to smile and nod, and work on what she pointed out. As time went on, the others steadily resigned, unable to take the repeated hits to their egos from the scathing criticism. Only you remained, steadily improving in your craft. Was it just you, or were Sandrone's criticisms getting gentler as they became less frequent? You eventually came to miss them after you got to the point where they stopped completely, so you would intentionally make little, easily fixable errors just to hear her sweet voice more. She's far from stupid, and would catch on pretty quick.

"Spare me this foolishness. Such a frivolous error is unbecoming of your ability. What is the meaning of this?"

Knowing you were busted, you'd just bashfully smile and tell her that you love her voice. She'd probably short-circuit for a good 5 seconds or so, then turn around and continue working with ears cutely tinted red.

-🎭

HI ARLECCHINO THEATER ANON!! OR NOW 🎭 ANON!! <3 Hehe I'm so glad you enjoyed those texts you really inspired me 💓 And WOW my ears are wide open for Sandrone thoughts... mhm (Also i love what you did there- "utterly risible" Sandrone says that in the trailer 😭💞)

Now... I'M IN LOVE WITH YOUR HC. It makes sooo much sense considering how engrossed she is only with her research :) So it's own natural that she wants things to be done her way, since her way is the best way as she spends copious amounts of time on her Automatons. And when she has to work with people who don't have the same skill, interest, intelligence etc as her she gets rather annoyed since they're messing her work up 😭

Ahh yes, reader and the group of newbies, so naive and thrilled to be working with such a revered Harbinger and researcher. So excited to present their little inventions to her and hopefully impress her. Sure their creations may not be perfect, but it still something right? WRONG. Sandrone walks over to each and every person and points out every flaw, internal, external, and even aesthetic wise about their creation. It's enough to have some people on the verge of passing out before she got to them.

Yes it was harsh, but she was right- even the littlest mistake could have a detrimental impact. Which is why you admired her unwavering dedication and attention to detail for her craft. (And also the way she would close her eyes and scoff and huff at how lackadaisical these people were honestly kind of cute... not to mention how elegant she looked perched on her robot... like the queen she is 💝) So you stayed. You stuck through it. Others tried to follow your example, but the numbers dwindled until you were the only one left under her wing. Even though she could be cruel, it wasn't without reason. Sandrone could actually explain to you what you were doing wrong, how to fix it, ways to prevent it in the future, etc. She actively made you grow, in her own little Sandrone way.

It got to the point where she didn't even need to criticize you anymore, and if she did, it was not like the scalding tone from before. Now she would simply take a look at your work and give you a small nod. On very rare occasions you might even get a "Good work"! Which of course you were delighted that she was finally satisfied, but you wanted to hear her talk more! The lab was always dead silent, only the sound of metal and tools filling it. But damn messing up on purpose for that? You know that most people would die for doing something as dumb as that? Luckily Sandrone has a soft spot for you that she doesn't exactly realize yet but will soon discover quickly <33 Omg I can just imagine her face morphing into surprise, her jaw hanging open trying to form a response to that, but she just closes it and turns around to pretend nothing happened 🥺

Off-topic but I find it interesting trying to talk to Sandrone about stuff outside of her research. Like i can just imagine her realizing she really doesn't know what else to say since she absorbs herself in her work all the time. After she gets a crush on you would she get jealous at how other people can easily hold a conversation with you? 🤔 Would she try to learn about the art of "normal conversation" and then fail halfway? Well it's okay since you can talk enough for both people :)

#smooches talks #🎭 anon #sandrone love notes <3 #IM EATING SOOOO GOOD ON THIS FINE DAY DAMNNN #yea sandrone is heavily underrated 😔 my bb girl dw youll get your fame eventually #would she practice having a convo with her robots...?#anyway thank u will be brainrotting abt this <333 #sandrone x reader

35 notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 4 months

Note

Hey mummy, I have a question, I hope it’s not a bad or stupid question, I feel a little bit embarrassed asking it. What does it feel like to have a strap go inside you, is different to fingers, does it hurt?

Hi sweetheart…!! Your question is not bad or stupid at all. It’s a very valid thing to ask. And I’m proud of you for being vulnerable and open enough to ask ♥️. No need to feel embarrassed, sweet anon. Your question is normal and completely valid. You are so brave. I am so proud.

For your first question— What does it feel like to have a strap go inside you?

The biggest thing about answering this question is the fact that the experience of the vulva owner of having strap inside them changes depending on the individual vulva owner. The way it feels depends on the person. And that’s okay. That’s valid ♥️♥️. Check out this article about strap-on sex for more information—Sex IRL: 6 Queer People Share What They Love About Strap-On Sex.

Not only does the specific vulva owner change the experience, but the mood, energy, or mindset your in does as well. If you are not aroused, the strap is not going to feel somewhat if not entirely different than if you are extremely aroused. This is also something to consider.

It also depends on the type of strap-on you use, such as the strap’s type, shape, size, etc. Take a look at this forum discussing straps— What does it feel like to be fucked with a strap on….

All of the above factors and more will change your experience with the strap-on and how it feels inside you.

In my personal experience, usually if I am already well aroused, when a strap enters my core, I experience a number of things. At first, a tight sensation, as my cunt flutters and adjust to the large object penetrating it. Then, theres the stretching sensation of the strap entering me fully. Along with the stretch, comes a very quick wave of euphoria of the strap touching my walls as it enters. If the strap bottoms me out, it hits the most sensitive part in my core and that causes a sharp overwhelming pleasure and push of need.

However, this is how it feels to me now with specific conditions. It hasn’t always felt that way. And it doesn’t always feel the same.

Regarding your second question— Does a strap going inside you feel different than fingers.

Yes. It feels different.

Straps tend to be larger than fingers, so they reach deeper spots inside you and they stretch you out more. Some types of straps vibrate, and this adds more stimulation and feels different than fingers. It also matters who your partner is or if you’re going solo, this changes the feeling of strap versus fingers. These are merely a couple of reasons as to why straps feel different than fingers, there are most definitely more.

Your last question— When a strap goes inside a vulva owner, does it hurt…?

Whether or not a strap entering a vulva owner hurts them depends on multiple factors. For one, if the vulva owner has never been penetrated by that exact strap, or has never been penetrated by any strap, or never been penetrated at all, the strap can possibly cause discomfort as it stretches you out for the first time. Another thing is the use of lube, a strap is likely to hurt less and be more pleasurable when the vulva owner and their partner use the appropriate amount and type of lube on the strap. The vulva owner’s arousal is also another factor that can change the experience of pain and pleasure. So yes, sometimes a strap can hurt, but this pain is completely normal. And for a good amount of people, the pain only heightens the experience. However, if strap-ons are not for you, that is also completely valid.

I hope you found this informative and helpful, dear anon. Again, I am so proud of you for reaching out and asking these questions. Please don’t hesitate to reach out with any more questions or asks. I hope you have a lovely day/night!! 💞💞

Talk with Me ❤️‍🔥

17 notes · View notes