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thevirgincherry · 3 months

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STRICTLY BUSINESS !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. a lot of misogyny, sexual harassment, p in v, leon is a creep omg, dubious consent but she agrees ultimately 😭

note. HAII can’t bother to change my dividers despite the theme change .. not edited so please ignore mistakes! og re4 leon btw .. no other leon.. :3 honestly I will probably write a longer fic like this bc.. I didn’t make it fleshed out enough 😭 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3

tumblr has started to remove fics that for example use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

Tuesday October 21st, 2004

“You’re kidding me, what a treat,” Leon Special Agent Kennedy still gets frisked when he steps foot into the BSAA headquarters. He’s done more for America than Washington ever did, and that guy’s on the dollar bill. You’d think that after rumours spread of you being bent over in the Oval Office, being the main suspect in a presidential affair, they’d give you more credit. “This is my favourite part.” He says, straight-faced.

“Kennedy,” Redfield’s smile is seething, more constipated than it is friendly, like the mere sight of Leon brings him immense pain. “Hands against the wall.”

“You want me to bend over too?” He asks, very seriously, because Leon is a good boy and he’ll do as he’s told. “I can bend over.”

“Think you’ve done enough of that.” Chris sees Leon as an invasive species of sorts. A snail that gets into the cabbage patch.

“You’re no fun.”

Chris calls out a name he hasn’t heard before, small hands land on his waist. It can’t be Redfield ‘cause his palms easily dwarf Leon’s waist, could wrap around it if they stretched far enough. He glances over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of whoever has the honour of feeling him up.

“Eyes forward,” A less bullish voice commands, “Um, please, sir.” This is a girl, not a woman, but a girl. Women are his favourite, but he can make do with a girl if she’s cute enough.

“Must be my lucky day,” Leon hums in delight as you pat him down, “Oooh, are we doing a cavity search?”

“Well…” You pause, hands lingering over his calf, “I’m not really sure.”

“No.” Redfield grunts in his primitive way.

“No, no cavity search,” You confirm, “I’m… sorry.” You tell him, and you really should be, Leon loves having his cavity searched. Oral, anal, if he had a vaginal cavity he’s sure he would have fun with that too.

“You can go lower, sweetheart,” Leon bites his tongue when you ghost over his belt loops, “Grab my balls while you’re at it, I don’t mind.”

“Knock it off, Kennedy.” His first real warning, ‘cause Chris speaks in his Captain voice not in ape sounds.

“I’m kidding, you can take it easy, big guy.” His mind wanders as you touch him up, getting to his chest in which you find a flask tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket, it’s confiscated promptly.

“Are you stupid?” Hunnigan asks, as his handler or glorified babysitter, she must accompany him to every teensy, little task. Her question is rhetorical, obviously.

“She’s just so sweet to me, I call her Honeygan.” Leon tells no one in particular.

“No you do not, Leon.” She says, cerebral and unfrisked, which begs the question of why only he gets borderline harassed on BSAA grounds. Not that he’s complaining.

“Hi there, cutie,” He doesn’t smile often for ladies, they like the whole brooding thing he’s got going on, but he really can’t hold it back. All teeth and everything. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here? Did you get lost, need help finding your mommy?”

“Kennedy,” Second warning, it goes unheard, or unprocessed, or rather Leon does not give a single shit.

“How old are you, sweetheart?” He puts his hands on his knees, like he’s crouched down talking to a toddler. “You look like a baby.”

“Twenty-one, sir.” Of course you are, lamb-faced and bright-eyed. That’s far too little. Then again, old enough to drink, old enough to suck dick. If a girl can knock back a shot, she’s likely to swallow - not spit.

“Oh, and do your Skechers light up, sweetheart?” You should be at home, burping a Baby Alive doll, pottering around an all-pink, plastic kitchenette. Doing things that girls do.

“What…?” You glance over at Chris cluelessly.

With this, he’s guided very forcefully by the scruff of his neck, his popped collar, to where the meeting is taking place. Chambers is there, and she’s grown within the last few years. She stretches back in her seat, her tiny tits jut out when her back bows. She hasn’t grown in that sense. You stand guard at the door in tactical gear, it’s like putting a spiked collar on a puppy and passing it off as a guard dog. He’d once thought of the BSAA to be pragmatic, they talk rationally while STRATCOM talk a lot of fancy shit in their Italian wool suits, but to put a young girl in charge of such a strenuous task? Leon takes it all back. They’re a bunch of brutes, hunched over sucking the meat from animal bones, girl bones even.

“Focus.” Valentine, bold and busty, sits beside him “She’s twenty-one.” Back off, is what she means. They’ve had brief encounters, but she’s a woman of few words, her sneer keeps him away as it does most men. She could use some dick.

Leon is well aware of your age considering you told him an hour or so prior. Like he said before, he likes women, not girls, but you’re certainly cute enough. “I know, too young.”

“She’s capable,” Jill shrugs, “Real brave kid,” This is the problem, it’s not bravery, it’s stupidity and Leon of all people knows the difference. Jill stands up when the meeting comes to its end, she’s the first to leave, pats your head on the way out.

The room clears out, you stand still and upright as he approaches. “After you, sir.”

“That’s not how it works,” Leon chides, “Ladies first, sweetheart.”

“After you, sir, I insist,” You’re getting impatient, antsy, “And please don’t call me that.”

“What would you prefer? Babe, baby, honey, babycakes, sweetpea,” All the classics, “Sugartits?”

“With all due respect, sir, fuck you.” You look at him with such discontent it makes him hard.

“Girls shouldn’t talk like that.” Leon stumbles slightly as you barge past him and exit. He finds it funny, he cracks another smile, shame no one’s here to see it, it’s quite beautiful really. His eyes follow the movement of your hips, the swell of your ass that’s hidden beneath those bulky cargos as you stomp off into the distance.

Monday November 1st, 2004

It sits on your desk like a harbinger of doom. A threat that signifies the end of the world, which is everyday in your field. This is the end of your life. No one else’s. This ostentatious display of affection is where it all starts.

“Nice flowers,” Piers comments, and it’s a totally innocent remark, because initially you had thought the exact same thing. How thoughtful, right? Flowers, tons of them, in all shades. You’re not a flowers kinda girl, but you’re not rude, you appreciate the gesture. That’s just how you’ve been raised, the vase mom bought you hasn’t been put to good use either.

You made the mistake of reading the card attached. In barely legible handwriting, all the swoops and loops throw you off, is that an E or a 3, it’s scrawled in leaky black ink that smears easily, crumpled it up the moment you saw who signed it off.

From his cokewhore nose to his insoles, you have no intentions of liaising with Agent Kennedy, much less going on a date with him. He might be charming from afar, but the moment he opens his mouth— oh, how you wish you could sever his tongue and put it in a jar. Might even go the extra mile to pickle it and feed it to him.

The note gets tossed in the trash, you attempt to dispose of the flowers the same way, stuffing them down into the bin beneath your desk. An incinerator would be preferred, but this will do for now. You’re shaking as you rid of them, rolling back your shoulders to relax, you can’t get him off of you. The scent of his biting cologne is in the back of your throat. It stings. He hasn’t done anything as of now, there’s just something about Leon that makes you uneasy.

Thursday November 4th, 2004

Stupid girl. You’re a stupid girl for thinking it was ever over, men like him persist until they wear you down, grind your bones into dust. Today it’s a box of decadent chocolates, you have to admit, they look good. Wasting food makes your gut ache with guilt so you place them on a table in the staff room.

“That’s not very nice, Godiva’s expensive.” Tight-lipped and repulsive, Agent Kennedy stands in the doorway. Why he’s here? You have no clue.

“Sir,” You fix your posture reflexively, “I appreciate it, I’m just not… a fan.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, sweetheart.” Leon cocks his head to the side, the lack of mirth in his tone is chilling. “I waited for you on Monday.”

“I never accepted, sir.” You tell him, “I’m flattered, but I didn’t have time.” And you never will have time for a man like him.

“You didn’t show, I looked like an idiot, that sweater makes you look kinda big by the way,” He says breezily, slips it in seamlessly with his complaint.

You don’t register it, blinking at him dumbly. “I hardly think this is appropriate.”

“Sweetheart,” Leon cups your cheeks, his fingertips are icy on your burning skin, “I don’t go on a lot of dates, so you should count yourself lucky.”

“Sir, what're you doing here?” You question, trying so badly to bypass the system failure that’s taking place in your frazzled brain.

“I have some business, but that’s none of your business is it, cutie?” He taps your nose, “I think you’re too little to get it anyway. Y’know, you take orders well, I thought you’d be a good girl.”

“I’m not a dog,” You scowl.

“Smile, sweetheart, shouldn’t pull faces like that.” Leon pats your cheek, then he turns on his heels and leaves as quickly as he came.

Friday November 5th, 2004

Agent Kennedy is on the premises again, this leads to you ducking into doorways, turning sharp corners into endless corridors— Anything to escape his gaze unscathed. Unfortunately, running has never been your strong suit, it requires some agility, you’re a no-nonsense kind of girl, face the issue head on with your bare hands. You’re capable. So capable. You’re strong, and you have a gun. When your fists fail you, your gun sits cold on your hip. Not that shooting Leon S. Kennedy would ever be a good look in someone’s dossier, but it provides you with some relief.

“There you are,” Quiet, he emerges from the shadows like he materialised right then and there, Agent Kennedy is stealthy, you suppose, “I missed you,” He’s hot on your heels, the bitterness of his scent begins to cloud your mind, “You look good from back here, should wear a skirt more often.”

Don’t speak. Don’t speak. Don’t speak. As much as you’d love to give him a piece of your mind, you fear he’d take it in stride, entertained by your outburst. Leon feeds on attention. He follows you for the entirety of your journey to the ladies room. “Sweetheart, speak to me.”

You’re a fool for thinking he has the decency to wait outside, let you do your business, and then once you return he can begin sweet-talking in your ear once more. Of course, Leon shoulders the door when it shuts on him, he jams his leg in the cubicle door when you try to lock him out. Too slow.

“Did you want to watch me piss, sir?” You ask, putting on your bravest face, as if your heart isn’t about to fall out of your ass and land on the floor with a wet smack. He scares you more than any virus-addled nutcase ever has.

“No,” Leon frowns, and it’s the first time he hasn’t had a witty remark, “Do you think I want to see that shit?” Oh, that offended him.

“I’m sorry for assuming, sir, but it’s just that you are,” You make a mild gesture at the toilet, “In the women’s restroom.”

“I know,” He’s still frowning, and you don’t like it. “I need something from you, babe.” Babe. Holy Mother of God, that’s worse than sweetheart, it sounds infinitely more sleazy.

“What can I do for you, sir? You got a kink?” Once more, you point to the toilet, the scumbag bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue wets his bottom lip as he hunkers down to press his pointy nose to yours. You hear him sniff around in the crook of your neck, like he’s chasing white lines without a straw.

You’re brave. You’re capable, so capable, Miss Valentine has told you the same. What would she do? What would she do? Quick-thinking, improvising, it’s not your thing— Your fingers itch to take out your gun and press it to his temple. Your own temple at this point.

Leon isn’t stupid, he takes your hand, brushing your knuckles with his lips, then he forces you to face the wall. “Hands on the wall, babe, it’s my turn.”

“Sir,” The argument dies as quickly as it comes to mind, fizzling out on your tongue.

“I won’t hurt you, babe, I know you’re little.” He almost coos, fingers tracing over your shoulder blades, then your spine, then his thumbs slot into your back dimples. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, it doesn’t look right, holding guns and shit— You’re too pretty for that, I bet it hurts your arms, don’t it? Oh, you poor thing. I really care about these things, I’m a feminist, sweetheart.”

No. No, you’re strong, you’re well trained— You’re the best Captain Redfield has to offer. “Mr. Kennedy, please, I’m sorry about the date.” There’s a warmth that presses to your back, “It was an honest mistake—“ His dick, he’s got his fucking pig dick on your back. “Get off of me.” Yes, you’re trained in combat, but against him, admittedly you have nothing on him. And it pisses you off more than his dick does.

“Cool it, babe,” Leon takes your wrists in his hand, keeping them behind your back, you hear him spit on his cock from above. The shlick, shlick, shlick of his wet dick being pumped has the acid in your stomach reacting badly with your lunch. “You’re hot, you ever think of going into porn?” Agent Kennedy is whiny during sex it seems, his voice gets airy, you take some amusement in that. As much amusement as you can in this type of scenario.

“I think you’re disgusting, sir,” Wetness splatters over the back of your sleeveless turtleneck, it soaks into the fabric. Leon kisses the nape of your neck, he tucks his cock away, wipes the sweat from his brow and leaves like he was never there in the first place.

The panic sets in a good five minutes later. He’s made you dirty, in a frenzy, you tear off your shirt in the public restroom, dunking it under the sink to wash it clean. A few ladies filter in and out, ask if you’re okay when they see you in your bra, scrubbing like a mad woman.

You smile your best smile, it’s your worst smile. The hand dryer does little to help you out, even when you wring and ring the fabric into the sink basin, all excess water and cum running down the drain, it’s weak. It’s hard to care in this state, hands trembling as you put it back on, the wetness only reminds you of him, it’s black so unless someone has the pleasure of bumping up against you - it’s likely no one will notice.

Visiting HR is new to you, the elevator dings and you step out onto a floor that’s entirely alien. With a foggy mind it’s harder to navigate the rooms, the people, the desks. A pretty lady leads you to the right place, an even prettier lady sits behind a desk. Her face is weathered, slightly mean, but she’s kind when she smiles.

“I’d like to report… I’d like to report,” Your hands are braced flat on the desk, slumped forward, “To report… I want to…”

Her smile is kinder this time, laced with sympathy, “Take your time, sweetheart,” No, don’t call me that, she takes note of how you bristle, “Take a seat and calm down, alright?”

“No,” You shake your head, insistent on getting it out here and now, “Special Agent Kennedy, Leon Kennedy, Leon Scott Kennedy, I want to report him for… I want to report him for— “

“Sweetie,” The lady, sympathetic once more, takes your hand, “I’m afraid I can’t do anything about that.”

“What? Why? You don’t understand, he—“

“Agent Kennedy, he doesn’t work here, he’s not in our database, and taking it up with STRATCOM, well, that’s a whole ‘nother issue.”

“Right,” How stupid can you be? Stupid fucking asshole. It isn’t even a loophole, it’s just totally legal, you can’t do anything. “Right, of course, I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

“Babe, there you are,” Leon revels in your jumpiness, it’s cute. Girls are cuter when they’re shy, when they need a big, strong man to keep ‘em safe. Stoicism doesn’t suit you, anxiety does, it makes your eyes glimmer in the same way Botticelli angels do, your lashes have no end to them. “I missed you.”

“Aren’t you busy saving the world and all, sir?” Still feisty, if it were up to Leon, he’d fuck you silly. Get it all out of you.

“You’re funny,” He says dryly, lips forming a line, “How about that date?”

Rather than exasperation like he had expected, there’s astoundment. “Are you… Are you serious?”

“Duh,” Leon nods, “I thought about it, cutie, I’m happy to give you a second chance.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking— Do you seriously think I would ever say yes to you?” Your brows furrow, they need a clean up, nothing some tweezers can’t fix, he’d have to sort out those forehead wrinkles too, you’re much too young for that.

“Nobody says no to me,” Leon responds with ease, “I don’t know why you wouldn’t, sweetheart, I really thought we had something.” His lips twitch, it’s painfully easy to rile you up. The temper is funny short-term, but long-term not quite as much.

“We,” You point at him, then at yourself, “We have nothing, sir, and if you touch me again, I swear on my life I’ll—“

“What will you do, sweetheart? Cry to your mommy about it?” He edges closer to you, till your sides are warm in his hands, “Little girls shouldn’t talk big, you don’t get to call the shots.”

“I’m not, I’m not a little girl, but you’re a fucking creep, and I will tell Captain Redfield, I will tell him.” And he’ll deal with you, Leon guesses. Stupid little girl, as if Mr. President would let a prick from the BSAA land a hit on his most prized possession, other than First Daughter Ashley Graham.

“See, baby? You can’t handle anything on your own, you’re too little.” He smiles, if your balled up fists say anything, it’s obnoxiously smug, “Oh, are you getting angry at me, baby? That’s no good, why don’t you smile for me?” Leon uses his thumbs to forcefully stretch your cheeks upwards, “C’mon, babe, smile for me.”

“Get off of me,” You twist out of his grip, pumps click-clacking as you desperately try to escape him, but it’s clear you’re new to them, getting the heel caught in each crack— Leon could do better.

“They make your legs look great,” He whistles, never less than a step behind, “Think you should wear ‘em everyday, field work ain’t all that, y’know? I could get you a job over in my building, filing and shit, could wear a skirt everyday.”

“Sir, do you ever shut up?” Comes your shaky yet clipped reply.

“I got plenty more where that came from, babe,” Leon says shamelessly, “Let me take you home, sweetheart, I’ll show you a good time.”

You shiver at the mere thought, shoulders lifting to your ears as you shake yourself off. Leon grabs you from behind once more, this time he’s got a handful of your tits. Without that bulletproof vest, you’ve got a great figure, shit made you square. This pencil skirt and turtleneck combo is flattering, and Leon has to admit, he’s always had a thing for office wear.

To your credit, you put up a good fight, a few more years of training and you would knock Leon flat onto his ass. That’s why he’s gotta save you while he can, girls shouldn’t get to that point. Especially not ones like you. “I’ll leave you alone, sweetheart, if you just give it to me once.” His lies are convincing, he takes your silence as consideration to his offer.

“Once,” You repeat, “Just once?”

“Just once.”

“I’ll bite it off.” You claim.

“Sure you will, babe.” Leon snickers, and because he’s Special Agent Kennedy, he gets his way. Through determination, blood, sweat, tears and a load of cum.

“Keep those on,” He tells you, nodding his head towards your heels as the two of you enter his apartment. “Take that off, and the skirt too.” Leon instructs, and you do as he says, “Good girl.”

He gives you a once over. Not bad. There’s always tweaks that could be made, while all women are beautiful to him, it comes natural to most, they could still be better. Perkier tits, shapely legs, nicer ass— Y’know, you could work on it.

“C’mere, cutie,” Leon pats his lap, begrudgingly you oblige, the mattress sinks with your combined weight. He snaps your bra strap, it pings back on your supple skin, then he reaches back to unhook it. Yeah, Leon can do it one go, you might not look impressed, but he knows you are deep down. “Look at that.” These tits, they have no room on the battlefield, seriously. He squeezes them, the fat spills past his fingers, the BSAA can’t be risking such valuable assets.

He can’t pinpoint your exact feelings, there’s irritation on your face, but when he lays you down, spreads you open, there’s a wet patch on your panties that’s telling of your true nature as a girl. It’s just primal instinct, right? Getting wet when there’s a handsome man groping you. “Aw, I told you we’d have fun, baby.” Leon takes your limp legs, tossing them over his shoulders, he slips your panties off, disappointment floods his system when he sees you’re not shaven bare. He’ll have to skip giving head then. Which is a shame, ‘cause most times it’s fun to see girls squirm on his tongue.

The pad of his thumb meets your clit, he dips downwards past your folds to gather some slick, smears it back over your bud. Part of him wants a taste, his fingers aren’t enough, Leon wants it straight from the source itself. Though it’s totally against his code of conduct, his tongue laves over your spread pussy once. He doesn’t let himself get carried away.

Instead, Leon opens you up around his fingers, scissors them into your tight hole to stretch you out. He keeps his thumb rubbing over your clit, he’s good at multitasking, and it’s the only thing that gets you whimpering, though most of it is muffled into your fist. He deems you wet enough, or he’s just very impatient, and it’s definitely the latter, Leon can admit it.

“You ready, babe?” Leon asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer as he slides into you, to the hilt, and raw. You let out a shuddering gasp as his cock knocks the fleshy opening of your cervix.

Then, you have the gall to ask, “Is it in yet, sir?” Despite the fact that you’re still trembling, shaken up by the sheer size of him. Leon can be humble, he knows it’s not that big, but for inexperienced little things like you it must be a real challenge. You take to it well, after the first few thrusts, the discomfort seems to fade, and your back arches against your will. A real cockslut born and bred.

He fills you up, fucks you like he wants to tear a hole through you, “You need to shut your mouth sometimes, sweetheart. I don’t know who raised you, but girls shouldn’t talk back like that.” Leon grips your jaw tight, forces it open so he can spit down your throat, much to his dismay you send the ball of spit hurtling back towards his face. He closes his eyes, hips stilling within you, then he brings his palm down on your cheek. It’s encouragement to behave.

You’re stunned, yelping sharply as he hits you once more, grinding deep into your wet cunt, the squelch gives you away. The way you’re sucking him in, like you’re a glutton for dick, how your hip bones smack into his each time you raise ‘em up— it's so clear you’re enjoying it. You like this, you like him, just needed a man to show you, to put you in your place.

Leon’s kind enough to keep pressing down on your bud, when he pulls out, your pussy clenched tight around the fat head of his cock, it begs him so sweetly to fill you up once more. He bottoms out, you jolt, legs slipping from his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. It’s then he’s reminded of your heels, they dig into his back, and your little hands come to rest on his ass to force him deeper and deeper, which Leon isn’t all that fond of, but you’re an unruly girl.

“Look how bad you want it.” Leon licks into your mouth, sucks on your tongue, “I knew it, baby, I knew you wanted it.” He drives his hips into you with such force, pussy gushing around him, your release trickles out of you with each thrust. “Messy girl.” He taunts, abdomen wet and his cock wetter.

You’re hit with aftershocks as he continues to pump into your sensitive pussy, clit twitching, he has enough sense to pull out. Leon isn’t an idiot. His cock rests heavy on your stomach, he urges you to take it in your hand, and you do. His hand wraps around yours, helps you jerk him off like you should’ve been glad to do in the restrooms earlier. “That’s it, you’re getting good at it, baby, you’re learning.” Leon’s load is sticky, shooting ropes of pearly white over your fingers, dripping down your wrist.

“Sir, this is it now, isn’t it?” You get down to business fast, acting like your pussy wasn’t springing a leak on his cock, “You’ll leave me alone now? If you don’t, I really will tell him, I will do something about it I swear on my fucking life.”

He says yes, but Leon is already thinking of what to send you next week. On Monday it might be a teddy bear, the ones that hold stuffed hearts in their stuffed arms. Tuesday, another bouquet, or a dress, a tight one that brings out your eyes. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, he has plenty of time to chase you again.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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ghostsbimbo · 3 months

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TF141 x Disabled!Reader; Cerebral Palsy

a/n: writing this from my own experience. i am mobile & independent w/o aids due to years of physical therapy, but it's getting harder. Please note, this disability is rare. There isn't much representation in media either, it's quite hard to find, there's 2 or 3 actors, a comedian or two. so I kind of want a small thing, y'know?

Task Force 141 [ General Statement ]

Okay, so this disability is rare (200k cases per year in the US - I do not know about other countries). I have the genuine belief that when they first meet you and you tell them that you have the disability, they actually start looking it up right in front of you. Not only out of curiosity, but because they want to help you.

John Price

He knew it was one of those days for you. He could tell just from you sitting up in bed and hearing the wince you had tried so hard to hide from him. He sighed softly, mentally questioning himself before finally deciding to ask it. "Wheelchair and cane day, love?" "Yeah...Wheelchair and cane day." You admitted, sighing softly. He sat up and leaned over, kissing your head before getting out of your shared bed, ready to help get you whatever you needed.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You two were at home while he was on leave, eating dinner - steak, a favorite of yours - but you were struggling with cutting it with the knife. Growing up physical therapy focused on the use of your dominant hand - especially with writing - so when it came to using your non-dominant hand? it was beyond a struggle to do things. Cutting up foods was one of them. "You want my help, love?" Simon asked, tilting his head. He understood you didn't like asking him for help, he understood you wanted independence when it came to even the simplest things, but he could also tell when you were getting frustrated. You simply nodded, placing the fork and knife down and carefully pushing the plate over to his side for help.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You tried your best to not be a messy eater. Like, to the point where you were constantly wiping your mouth, taking small bites of food, eating slow. but then there were days you just couldn't put that much brain power into being a conscious eater. It was a 'low spoons day' as you put it. Your body already hurt constantly due to your stiff muscles, which took a lot out of you on rainy days, so why make the effort to not be messy considering your body was already in so much pain. "Babe...You uh, got a little..." Gaz started, before getting a paper towel and carefully wiping the ice cream off your upper lip and the tip of your nose. You just blushed brightly and mumbled out a quick thank you and an apology. He just let out a soft chuckle and smiled at you. "It's alright, love, at leas you're enjoying something today, yeah?"

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You were scuffing your feet instead of actually walking walking. A habit that took years of physical therapy to break. You liked not having to think about not having to walk when you were in pain, but not many other people appreciated the noise. It irritated them. And that's how you got where you are now. In your work's break room, shakily texting your boyfriend to come pick you up. A customer had berated you in front of other customers and your boss in the store. He did get kicked out by your manager of course, but due to you being low spoons, that was your breaking point. Johnny was aloud in the break room on these kind of days. It was something your manager understood you might need on certain days. "C'mon love, you already clocked out, right?" You nodded and you guys walked out to his car, hand in hand with him rubbing small soothing circles on the back of your hand.

#rat writes #cod mwii #cod mwiii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #tf141 x reader #tf141 x disabled!reader #disabled!reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #tf141 x you #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw3 x reader

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crosshairlovebot · 7 months

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building feelings / tech x gn!reader

pairing: tech x gn!reader (no y/n)

description: tech teaches you how to fix something on the marauder, and you've always admired him and his intellect.

word count: 1,819

warnings: none. tech is a sweetheart.

two fics in several days?!?! what?!? this is ANOTHER request from another lovely twitter mutual who asked for tech teaching the reader how to fix something on the marauder! i have never written for tech before but i had?? so much fun?? i loved writing his dialogue so much. i loved writing HIM. i hope you enjoy it!

disclaimer: i don't know anything about mechanics, let alone mechanics in the star wars universe. but i tried my best!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

Your feet echoed as you came down the Marauder’s gangplank. Currently situated in a Tatooine landing bay, Clone Force 99 had made a quick stop between missions for repairs after being damaged in a firefight as they left nearby Christophsis. While the other members of the squad had been ordered by Hunter to gather and replenish their supplies from whatever vendors they could find, you and Tech had been ordered to stay with the ship. You, as their official GAR liaison and medic, and unofficial cheerleader, took stock of medical supplies and caught up on filling reports as Tech tinkered with the hull.

But having finished all your tasks, and the boys still weren’t back yet, you ventured out of the stuffy and slightly odorous Marauder, and out into the Tatooine sun that bathed the landing bay.

You heard the spark of a welding tool and the clattering of rummaging through the toolbox before you saw him. Rounding the corner, you found Tech with his back to you as he faced the open belly of the Marauder. His tall lean frame reached up to tighten a valve, and you watched his body strain with the movement, and you imagined his face was screwed up, an intense furrow on his brow and his jaw clenched. You felt your face heat up.

You would be lying if your heart didn’t flutter a little around Tech. There was something so endearing about his eagerness to share his knowledge, and his conviction in whatever he did. He was kind, even if he wasn’t actively trying to be. He excelled at anything he did, and most of all, he was a good brother. He cared so much about them, but in ways you had to look for. Modifying the ship so it performed the best it could, ensuring their safety when flying. Volunteering for the first watch and staying up extra late working on a project so they could get extra sleep. Researching anything they came across, so everyone was informed and no one got hurt. And more recently, enhancing Echo’s cybernetics so they were comfortable for him, and caused less strain and increased efficiency for his cerebral interface.

You knew that to Tech, these things were just things he did. But once you noticed, it wasn’t hard to see the care and love behind them.

“Hey, Tech,” you called out to him as you approached.

Tech turned around and met your gaze. He greeted you with your name.

“How’s it going?” you asked.

“Quite well. Though more systems were damaged than the initial diagnostic detected, everything is fixable. I have even increased the efficiency of the power flux stabilisers, so there is less strain on hyperdrive priming and more output for faster ignition.”

You smiled at him and moved to sit on a crate. You only partially understood what he was saying. “That’s good to hear.”

Tech nodded and resumed his work. You watched him, fascinated. His aptitude for engineering of any kind was admirable. Though you weren’t techno-illiterate – you could work a datapad and fly a ship, you knew nothing about mechanics beyond recognising the names of things. Tech always knew exactly what parts were what and how to use them, which tool to take to them. You could stitch up wounds, but this was different. He could build things – pull together seemingly complicated and unrelated components to make something tangible and operational.

“How can you remember what part is what? And how to fix it?” you asked after a stretch of silence.

Tech stopped and looked at you. “My genetic enhancements are increased intellect and aptitude for technology.”

“I know, but how do you remember it all? How do you have space for it up there?” You tapped your temple with a curious smile.

You could see gears turning in his head as his hands stilled. “I’m not sure I understand the question…I just simply do.”

Tech put down the Harris wrench in the box and met your gaze, which must’ve been furrowed pensively at his vagueness because then he picked up a calibrator and continued talking as he turned back to the ship.

“Though increased neuron capacity and information processing factor into my abilities, I still had to learn; to form a basis of knowledge that could be built upon as my understanding of concepts grew. I wasn’t born knowing the schematics of a T1 Hyperdrive and how to wire its various transmitters.”

You tittered but listened as he turned back and placed the calibrator away.

“However, we all have our aptitudes. The same way you know all the ways a body works, and how to fix them – I know all the ways machines work, and how to fix them.”

You smiled at his words. “I suppose you’re right.”

He twirled a tool between his fingers. “I often am.”

You grinned, meeting his honey-eye gaze behind his goggles. Tech’s mouth turned up at the corners slightly before turning away again, the open hull engulfing him as he rewired something. He suddenly stopped, head lifting up and turning to you with a thoughtful look.

“What?” you frowned in concern.

“Come here.”

Your frown deepened and you pushed yourself off the crate, moving closer to him. He guided you closer with a hand to the small of your back, and you brushed up against him as he maneuvered you to stand in front of him. Your face flushed and you were very glad he couldn’t see it.

“These are the wires to the power couplings that syphon power from the auxiliary engines to the main thrusters,” he told you, his gloved fingers running along the four coloured wires in front of you slowly.

You look up at him slightly confused before nodding. “Okay?”

Tech pointed and ran the tip of his finger over one of the wires. “See how one is slightly more charred than the others?”

You swallowed and nodded.

“That wire has short-circuited, causing lag when the Marauder accelerates because three wires are doing the job of four. What do you think will happen to the other wires if we don’t fix the short?”

You looked back at him, frown increasing. “I thought you knew all about this?”

Tech raised an amused brow at you. “I do. I am teaching you.”

“Oh!” Your cheeks flamed and butterflies swooped in your stomach. Embarrassed and nervous, you cleared your throat to answer his question. “Um, well I suppose if the other wires are being overworked, then they’ll short out too?”

“That is correct,” he nodded. “If wires transmit more power than their capacity, then not only can they short, but they can also degrade the ship’s performance.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you joked lightly.

“No, we can’t. So, you’re going to help me rewire this one.”

Tech stepped away to grab a new wire from the case next to the toolbox, and your heart sped up, hands tingling with nervous energy.

“Are you sure? What if I do something wrong?”

Tech pushed his goggles up his nose. “You won’t. I’m an excellent teacher.”

And he was. He guided you through the process clearly, showing you the parts and the tools before he watched you use a micro-welder to fix the shorted wire.

“Keep it steady,” he said, placing a hand on yours, helping you move it across the ends of the wire. Your heartbeat quickened and your face heated up. His slender and dexterous hand engulfed yours, and you could feel the grooves of his white plastoid armour against your shoulder as his body brushed against you. If you leaned back, your back would meet his chest, and those dexterous hands of his might even steady you with a hold of your hips. You pushed the thoughts from your mind, doing everything you could to focus on the tool in your hand and not how close he was, and how easy it would be to get even closer.

“There,” Tech declared, removing his hand from yours. “That should do it.”

You cradled the tool to your chest, tightening your grip on it as he took a step back. You simultaneously felt cold and hot all over as you watched Tech grab his datapad, pressing a few buttons before hovering it over the length of the wire. “The diagnostic report shows that the wire is functional.”

You blinked in surprise. “I did it?”

“Of course, you did,” Tech adjusted his goggles. “With my excellent instruction and your intellect, changing a shorted wire is quite simple.”

Your chest tightened. “You think I’m smart?”

Tech paused for a moment before he started tapping the screen again. “You’re a proficient medic, that takes high levels of understanding.”

Your face stretched into a grin, warmth pooling in your stomach as your grip on the tool loosened. “You think I’m smart.”

Tech looked up at you before the corner of his mouth lifted impishly. “Well, perhaps not as smart as me.”

“I don’t think anyone is as smart as you, Tech,” you gave a lilted laugh, placing the micro-welder in the box with the other tools, feeling light inside. Tech’s smile was sort of everything…and to earn one was a privilege.

To be a witness to Tech in his most honest, comfortable form was not something experienced by many people outside of his brothers, and now, you too. You looked at him now, so engrossed in whatever the screen was telling him, and felt your heart swell and fall for him just a little more. You wanted to know why he decided to show you how to fix a shorted wire, but you didn’t want to ruin this moment by revealing feelings that may not be returned. So instead, you settled for:

“Thanks for showing me how to do that.”

His eyes slid to you before nodding and returning his gaze to the screen. “It is a useful skill to have. I’m happy to teach you whatever else you’d like to know.”

You took in a breath. Teaching you this was just another small thing to Tech, but it still showed how much he cared, just like everything else he did. “I’d like that,” you told him after a moment, your heart beating fast, even though you were sure he was just offering to be nice.

Tech’s hand stilled over his datapad before he fully looked up at you, a wrinkle in his brow that softened at your hopeful expression. Tech smiled again, his eyes shining behind those yellow-tinted goggles. And maybe it was just the Tatooine heat, but you could’ve sworn you saw the tips of his ears go pink before he adjusted his goggles and turned back to the Marauder, letting the mechanics envelop him again.

“The landing array needs recalibrating,” he said as he tugged on a part. “Shall I show you how to do that?”

You smiled at him. “Yes, please.”

thank you for reading! i have more requests to get through so i'll likely get through those in a couple of weeks!'

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withacapitalp · 1 year

Text

Because the girlies really loved my last post about Argyle (and I can't remember if I put this here or not) have some more unconditional jargyle love

“I got a job today,”

All conversation halted as over a dozens pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. Argyle gave them all a half smile and shoving some more vegetables in his mouth.

“A job?” Jonathan managed to sputter out, looking at Argyle like he was from another planet. He did that a lot, always had, so it didn't really bug him.

Argyle was fine with being weird.

“Hawkins Pizza! Gino wants me to start on Thursday, earlier if I can. They reallllllly need the help,” Argyle said with a disappointed shake of his head, taking another bite of broccoli and telling them the whole story.

He had gone in on an impulse while he was waiting to pick up Robin and Steve from work. He had just wanted a slice, maybe to pick some up for dinner tonight so Joyce didn’t have to cook, but he had walked into a waking nightmare. Half baked mushy dough, tomato sauce that tasted like it came right out of a jar, and a cheese blend that had zero stringiness.

They didn’t even have pineapple. It was a complete travesty.

The owner hadn’t appreciated his observations at first, even threatened to kick him out, but he had managed to swing the man around by offering to make him a real pizza.

Twenty five minutes later Argyle had a job offer and a super nice new boss. Turns out the dude was way chill, just overwhelmed by being one of three restaurants left standing after the earthquake. But good pizza made everyone feel better. It was one of the reasons Argyle had loved being at Surfer Boy so much.

“Y’all won’t be able to handle the sick ass pies I’m about to be slinging,” He said with a lazy shaka and a chuckle.

Everyone was still looking at him, but not with as much confusion. They all congratulated him, lowly going back to the conversations they had been having before.

Well everyone except Jonathan, but that guy was always zonked out.

“You’re staying?” Jonathan finally asked.

“As long as its still cool for me to crash on your couch, my guy,” Argyle answered. Shoot. He probably should have asked that first before taking the job, but he had just been excited to get to start making pizzas again. Being in Hawkins wasn’t anything like Cali, and he had jumped at the chance for something just a little bit familiar.

“Of course it is. Stay as long as you want,” Jonathan answered automatically, not missing a beat, “I just- I-“

Jonathan cut himself off with an irritated sigh, turning to stare down at his plate. Argyle let him have the moment, bopping his head along to the music playing in his head and happily spacing out.

Jonny needed things like this, moments where he could debate whatever was going on inside. His best friend was ‘cerebral’ as his abuela would put it- he needed time in his head to find the right thing to say.

Or he needed time to find the courage to say he wanted to say without fear. Either way, Argyle didn’t mind waiting.

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to want to stay,” Jonathan mumbled out, still keeping his eyes on his plate and not his best friend, “I mean given how insane everything is,”

It was insane. It was all insane.

Two weeks ago they had been hitting golfballs into old cars and talking about how Jonathan needed to get his shit together, and now they were sitting in the living room of an abandoned cabin halfway across the country, surrounded by people who had only taken ten days to feel like family to him.

It was insane that Jonathan’s little sister could move stuff with her mind, and there was apparently an alternate dimension full of hell beasts that were determined to break into their world and destroy everything. It was insane that he had known nothing about the guy he swore was his best friend, and it was insane that Argyle still managed to find a way to love him through all of it.

But sometimes insane was a good thing.

“Where else would I wanna be?” Argyle said instead with an easy grin, slinging an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and leaning into his best friend’s space.

#jargyle #Jonathan byers #argyle #argyle stranger things #Jonathan and argyle #st #st 4 #argyle ficlet #jargyle ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet

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tenjiiku · 1 year

Text

get down on it / 18+

“I read a poem today.”

You laugh through a mouthful of warm noodles. The sound is pretty.

It is why Rin said what he said — he wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear you happy and content, even at his own expense. He hates how he’s been feeling this way, but he can’t stop.

He is on his fifth or fourth beer (give or take), and is a bit lightheaded (you will probably have to carry him home, he hopes he recollects none of it, sober-him would probably die of embarrassment). Nothing matters, though, because you look quite lovely under the calm yellow lighting of the quaint ramen shop, especially when you are smiling. The season is over so he has been somewhat over-indulging in all of the things prohibited to him before and has been going a little crazy at this newfound freedom.

Luckily, he now has you to keep him somewhat in check. Rin is more and more finding himself wanting to keep you impressed. He’s never wanted to really prove himself to anyone before his brother. Of course, you had to come in and ruin everything he has ever known.

But you make it so easy — he doesn’t even need to try. He’s never felt this way about anyone.

So he wants to keep it, and he wants to keep you.

“Did you?”

“Yes,” he burps, “by Mitsune.”

You giggle again, and his cheeks — already warm from the alcohol in his system — catch on fire tenfold. His eyes focus on your hands, the way they hold your chopsticks and mix your broth around. They’re smaller than his. He blushes, wondering how they’d look with a ring on.

Rin wonders if you’d let him put one on you.

“Which one?” You ask through a hearty mouthful of pork and noodles.

“Something about Spring and ageing.”

“Did you like it?”

“Not really. Made me feel something.”

“Aren’t all poems inherently created to make the reader feel something?”

You’re smart — intelligent, in a refined way. You carry this cerebral aura around you and Rin was rather intimidated by you when he was first reunited with you at the age of twenty-five, two years ago. And you were younger than him, which only made him more weary around you. You were nothing like the snot-nosed kid you were back in middle school when he was in Blue Lock. You were beautiful, mature — everything he wanted. Though it took him a while to admit this.

Sometimes it takes him a while to understand you. But you took so many procedures to appreciate him. He always felt the need to return the favour, even if that came in the form of reading a haiku he did not really fathom, by your favourite poet.

He’s trying. It feels gross. But the rewards are so sweet.

“I guess…”

You laugh. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling. It doesn’t work.

“How is your thesis going?”

He changes the topic.

“Hmm…, it is going well, I suppose,” you grab for his beer while he picks at a piece of your pork cutlet, “Tenma-san was quite impressed with my research on artificial intelligence usage for pharmaceutical research.”

He regrets that he has changed the topic.

“Mhm.”

He chews on your pork cutlet as you sip on his beer. You catch onto his deflated mood so quickly. You cannot be from this Earth.

“What?”

He tries to save his ass, spewing a nonchalant, regular, “Nothing. I’m glad you are getting the recognition,” but you notice his disdain all too quickly.

A hand is placed on his cheek, “Rin.”

He instantly places his own over yours, pressing the cold palm further into his warm skin, “Yes, my darling?”

Rin is drunk — that’s why he called you that, he reasons. He furrows your eyebrows at the face you make at him. He hates how his stomach twists. You look at him as one would to a stray dog. He can’t even hate you.

“You’re sulking.”

“No I’m not,” he says, frowning.

You pull the skin of his forehead up with your other free hand. He squints his eyes as you expose it to the cool air.

“You’re going to get wrinkles before you turn forty.”

His head grows hot. His hand resting on yours on his cheek, changed to hold it against his face. Rin holds it tightly, holds you tightly.

“And? So?” His tone is colder than he wanted to let off. It sounds condemnatory, “Will you not want me anymore?”

You only smile at his scowl and captious behaviour. Rin’s eyes soften.

“Mmm no,” you brush hair that’s fallen over his eyes behind his ear, “but you will complain to me about them.”

“And you won’t listen? I won’t do it for you anymore? You’ll elope with Tenma?”

He’s being mean and nonsensical, Rin knows this. He is also intoxicated and tired and helplessly in love with you — but he’ll only ever mention the former than the latter in his defence; which is inadvertently the cause of all of his security issues.

Rin knows you won’t do anything he’s mentioned. He trusts you. Though, sometimes he likes the reassurance. And he really likes it when you know he is being childish and naive.

“Rin,” you whisper. He loves it when you say his name. He can hear the smile in your voice.

“Yeah, baby?” He calls you this because he wants to. He is finished pretending after his fifth beer.

“Tenma-san is sixty years old and is living a very healthy life with his lovely wife.”

Your voice is so sweet. You’re smiling to the point your cheeks are glowing. You smell of warm soup and home. You’re so pretty. You’re only ever this pretty for him, Rin decides.

He takes your hand off from his face to kiss each of your fingers, pulling your stool closer to his with his long and agile legs. You yelp at the sudden actions but you keep your eyes on him, just how Rin likes.

“Tell me I’m your only one,” he rasps against your hand, bending his head. His hair falls over his forehead. Rin knows you like it when he is like this.

You laugh nervously, stuttering. Rin smirks.

“Rin, this is silly…” you murmur, watching intensely as he kisses your skin. He gives you back your hand, only to place it around his neck. You let him.

He wants to kiss you, Rin resolves.

“Tell me,” he demands.

Then he sees it. Rin really sees you. You don’t look at him like he’s a stray dog — a gaze full of pity — you never have. You only ever look at him like you’d rather die than take his eyes off him. Typically such intensity would make him uncomfortable, Rin does not think he deserves such attention. Yet, if he thinks too much about you looking at Tenma-san or anybody else for that matter — the same way you stare at him — his head starts feeling hot. His hands begin to feel clammy and he starts to itch.

Rin sees his reflection in your eyes when you come in closer. He realises he’s looking at you exactly how you look at him. You wrap your other arm to meet your hand already resting around his neck. Your legs find solace between his, and you look at him with an emotion he can’t describe — maybe this is what Mitsune was trying to convey.

Rin didn’t care much about Spring. People told him to worry when he turned twenty-seven. But he doesn’t care about any of that.

“You’re my only one.”

Rin buries himself in your shoulder, growing warm at the sound of your laughter and admittance.

He is only concerned about how to make this feeling last; you, in his arms — him, in yours.

The alcohol in Rin’s system has more so settled, but the heat in his body has only gotten more fervent.

Both of you are still wet from the rain that started right as you stepped out of the bar. You had to carry Rin to the taxi. He remembers you had to apologise to the driver when he had put a hand on the small of your back, trying to help you put this six foot four football player in the backseat. Rin remembers making a deranged comment of some sort — he does not recall what exactly he said, but he does recall the slap he received on his head from you for spewing such an insult at the innocent taxi driver.

He was restless, beside you. A large warm hand drawing circles up and down your thigh. You, holding his wrist to prevent him from going up any further. You, whispering for him to get himself together. Him, pressing insistent kisses at your collar and neck.

Rin feels insatiable when you finally arrive home.

You’re taking too long to unlock the door. He drapes his frame onto you, taking your scarf off from around your neck and pushing your hair to the side to kiss at the sin.

“Rin— door,” you say, breathlessly trying to slot the key into the lock.

Rin doesn’t stop. He circles his arms around your waist, biting your earlobe. His stomach twists when you yelp. “Hurry, baby.”

You laugh when his hair tickles at your neck. His grip around you tightens at the noise. You giggle even more as you fidget with the keys and Rin’s inconsolable mood.

“I’m— I’m trying.” You gasp out.

When Rin hears the telltale sound of a click, he practically shoves you inside. You squeal at the sight of his rapacious smile as he quickly closes the door and pushes you against it, locking it quickly.

“Rin!”

He likes it when you say his name. His pupils dilate. You let him take your coat, scarf and shoes off. They’re discarded somewhere on the floor of the genkan. Rin’s hands are all over you, they’re apologetic, almost — sorry that they had to be off of you for that second between getting inside the apartment. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Sorry. Pretty,” is all Rin says before locking your lips with his. He sighs into your mouth. This is what he was missing.

When your fingers scratch at his scalp and softly tug at his dark tresses, he groans. His hand grips your ass through your skirt and plays with the hem of your top. You gasp and giggle at this, and he grins into the kiss at the sound.

He taps your arm. You lift them up and your shirt comes off. You tug at his trench coat and sweater, they’re thrown to the side.

“Up,” he rasps against your lips.

You wrap your legs around him, his large hands digging into your ass to lift you up. Your skirt falls to your waist, exposing the top of your white thigh highs. Rin grunts at the sight, carrying you to the bedroom.

He lays you down gently onto your bed, holding himself up by one elbow. He kisses you softly, swallowing your small moans. Rin kisses your neck, between the valley of your breasts, taking your bra off with one hand. He continues to kiss downwards; the mole under your rib cage until he reaches your skirt. Hooking his fingers under it and your underwear, he tugs them off your legs, standing over your awaiting frame with one knee digging into the mattress.

Rin gazes down at you, laid in the sheets he bought. You’re shy, crossing your legs and raising both your hands to your mouth, unintentionally accentuating your cleavage as your elbows push them together.

Rin feels hot — he feels the urge to do very bad things to you.

You call for him, regardless, your voice raw and unkempt — a total juxtaposition to your typical orderly conduct. “Rin— Rin.”

Rin pants. You’ll only ever look like this to him. He’ll never let anyone else have you. He starts to unbuckle his jeans, relishing in the way you look up at him.

With his pants discarded and boxers on, he comes back down to you, tense and inpatient. You willingly welcome him, bending your neck and arching your back to meet his mouth for a hot kiss. His large left hand finds solace between your legs.

You whine into his mouth when he runs a finger up your wet slit. He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both. Rin looks out of place as he stares down at where he touches. Your pussy drenches his slender fingers, he rests himself on his right elbow, letting you burrow your face into his chest as he makes a mess of your clit. You mewl into his skin, and Rin’s pupils dilate at the way you clench around nothing.

“Pretty, you’re wet,” he sounds in pain, touching you languidly; alternating between collecting your juices at your hole to rubbing your sensitive clit. Your thigh highs are drenched at your entrance.

“Rin— feels— feels good,” you whimper, arching your back as he reaches places of you that you never could. You wrap your shaky hands around his bicep, moaning into his arm, “Don’t— Don’t stop.”

Rin feels lightheaded. You clench around his fingers like a second skin. His thumb continues to draw circles in your clit, and he groans at the way you gush around his digits. He presses a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah? Give it to me, baby. S’mine.”

Your thighs close around his insistent hand, but Rin doesn’t stop — because he listens to you; he’ll listen to you whine, he’ll listen to you cry, he’ll listen to you mewl his name.

You come for him with his name on your tongue. Rin has won many things in his life but this reward is the sweetest, “Rin, Rin.”

Your thighs twitch against his thigh. He draws slow circles into your slit, keeping your high going. Rin whispers a quiet ‘Good Girl’ into your scalp, turning your chin with his other hand to bring you into a lazy, messy kiss.

Bringing his fingers from your pussy up to this mouth, he breaks the kiss to only lick at them. He looks at you, as he does so — and appreciates the nervous tears that fill your eyes at the sight. You’re panting — shaking, almost. It is a pitiful yet beautiful sight to see, and a dark part of Rin wants to see you like this more.

He brings his fingers to your lips, resting them. He stares at you ardently, waiting for you to do something. You open your mouth, and he pushes his digits into your mouth. Sucking them clean with your tongue, Rin takes them out then gives one final kiss to your lips.

Crawling above you, he is on his knees between your legs. Taking a spare pillow, he places it under your back. You whimper as his hard on presses against your thigh and notice how Rin’s underwear is wet at the centre.

Rin pulls his boxers down, pulling his cock out and prodding it at your slit. You sniffle at the contact his hot cockhead makes with your sensitive clit. He groans, his precum pooling together with your slick at your wanton entrance.

“Gonna give it to me?” He grunts, wiping sweat from his forehead — clenching his stomach when your pussy quivers against his cock.

You whimper, and answer him by taking your shaky hands and opening your pussy lips, exposing your quivering hole. Rin almost passes out by your action.

“Fuck,” He groans, sinking into your lewd hole, “Shit.”

The bed frame creaks as he buries himself inside you. You gasp and whine, arching your back as his large cock enters you with a purpose. You cry out his name when he finally bottoms out. “Rin— Rin!”

He looms over your frame, pressing his body on top of you, like a weighted blanket. You mewl when he presses kisses to your neck, moaning into the junction between your neck and shoulder when your fingernails scratch at his back. “Fuck, baby…”

“Rin,” you plead to him, whining into his ear as he falls and wraps his arms around you, only grinding deeper into you. Your legs tremble around his.

Large hands smooth out the skin in your back, hot fingers surely bruising your skin. You whimper as he lifts his head to look up at you, his chain vainly dangling at your chest. Your tits press against his chest and the proximity makes you cry his name — his name being the only thing you know. You’re pretty, you’re so pretty and you’re all his, is all Rin senses.

Rin groans, deep from his stomach as his balls hit your ass from the insistent thrusting. The bed frame creaks lewdly beneath you both, and he swallows your moans with a kiss. He breaks the kiss too soon, tenderly brushing your cheeks covered with tears as you mewl for him.

“Tell— fuck — Tell me I’m yours,” Rin begs you. He kisses you sensually once more, breaks it and asks you again, “Baby, tell me you’ll never leave.”

“Rin, Rin, Rin,” your head grows hot at the request.

You arch your back as he pounds into your abused cunt mercilessly, and you see stars when he licks two fingers that go down to tease at your clit.

“You — You’re mine,” you lament, your legs shaking, overflowing with some otherworldly pleasure, “I— I’ll never leave.”

Rin keens at your admission, grinding into you as your pussy squeezes around his insatiably hard cock. When he thrusts it just at the right spot, you lose your senses.

“Rin, Rin — I’m — love you— I love you—” you babble incoherently, “Ri—Right there!”

Rin’s eyebrows furrow at your debauched face. You’re so cute. He feels kinda bad that he broke you this soon, but when your cunt clamps around him like the most sinful vice — he doesn’t feel that bad anymore. He’ll be whatever you want him to be — but he really wants you to be like this for him right now.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna — shit — gonna come for me?” His sweat drips down onto you, and his voice sounds ruined — nothing like his usual self. You nod feverishly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for dear life.

“I— I’m close, too.” Rin pants.

When he starts to increase the speed of his movements, you wail. You come around him with his name on your tongue for the second time, twitching from overstimulation. He comes inside you with a small curse and a bite at your neck. His cum is warm inside you, familiar. You yelp as it continues to pump his seed inside you. Rin gently brings you back down, brushing your hair and cheekbones with a calloused hand. You groan into his mouth when he kisses you.

Rin stays inside you, because he wants to. You let him, because you want to be close to him. He turns to lay on his back with a grunt, pulling you on top of him. You nuzzle yourself into his bare chest, fingers playing with the silver chain he has of your initials.

After a while, you smile up at him. He looks down at you, still in a haze.

“The driver was watching you,” you whisper shyly to him, recalling how you had made eye contact with the driver in the rear view mirror while Rin was gnawing at your neck like an insane person, “felt so embarrassing, Rin.”

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, playing with the head of your hair with his other.

“You love me,” He states, a fact.

You slap his chest gently. He only glowers at you.

You look up at him with a beautiful smile. His chest contracts. You kiss his chest. “I do,” you murmur, drawing little hearts into his skin. “I love you so much.”

Rin stares at you. He might die. Instead he gets hard. You feel him, and glare. He only laughs, and flips you back around. You yelp, and giggle into another messy kiss.

Rin doesn’t need to tell you he loves you. You just know. You know from each kiss, each bite, and each caress. It is why Rin loves you, because you know, and you love him regardless.

#rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x fem reader #writing #minors dni

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zakkusufae · 2 months

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Meeting Neil Newbon at Megacon Orlando. 2/3/24

Here's my fan account of meeting Neil. You are welcome to repost with credit. But I ask you not to repost the photo I share. Thank you!

Truthfully, this will have some personal information but I need to share in order to explain why this convention trip meant so much.

Frankly, when I heard Neil was going to be at Megacon Orlando, I immediately told my sister about it, and we impulsively planned it in less than three weeks.

I, along with my sister, always admired his work since Detroit Become Human but only recently found out about the community and other things such as Twitch.

However, I have trauma in regard to being in new places. I also struggle with a disability as well as other things. I have cerebral palsy. (The easiest way I can explain it is that my brain is slow in sending messages to my body, my legs specifically.) Because the con was so crowded, I needed to use my wheelchair. I had never done things like autographs or photo ops. It was all new to me.

Originally, we had our autographs scheduled on Friday but moved them to Saturday when we heard he was going to be delayed. When Saturday came around, my sister and I were surprised to discover we could use the ADA line. (Again, we’d never done this before) The line alternated between regular and ADA in order to remain fair, which I appreciated.

I was really nervous as I got up to the table as I’m sure many of us were and then I was greeted with the warmest “Hi, how are you? I’m Neil it’s nice to meet you,” as he shook our hands. He asked what our names were and such and then he asked what I wanted written on the Astarion print I had bought the day before. I had to repeat it for him because I’m guessing it was one he hadn’t written much.

We gave him our gifts after my sister had gotten her autograph. And I was ready to roll away as I felt I was keeping the line, but he literally came around the table and asked, “May I give you a hug?”I accepted, but I was so nervous, and due to my condition, I tend to avoid being touched as I can get stiff. It was very gentle. And what touched me the most I think was that he offered. I'm not used to that at all.

Later, during the photo op, the kindness remained. He asked if he should come down lower for the photo or stand, and I just said whatever you’re comfortable with. He came lower anyway.

The whole gesture was really kind and in a weird way I felt seen? It’s difficult to explain. But basically, it was a very touching experience. I’m glossing over a lot, but these small things meant so much. I cried after everything sank in... He was really considerate even when I thought I was being a burden to everyone in line. It was a gift, really, and I won’t forget it.

I think of this interaction as bringing awareness. I can't speak for everyone who struggles with a disability but regardless, I think sharing it would be helpful. But there's one thing I want to mention before I end this. The quote I chose was, "I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me." Because I hope someday people can see more to me than my limitations, and I feel I'm worth that much.

We're all survivors in some way. Survivors in grief, illness, and other things, but in a way, we're all surviving as we live. Each day is a challenge, and sometimes it really feels awful, but despite that, it's worth it. And I'd like to try living.

I hope you enjoyed reading it. ♡ And to Neil, I know you probably won't ever read this, but thank you so much.

#neil newbon #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #detroit being human #dbh #elijah kamski #gavin reed #karl heisenberg #resident evil #resident evil village #larian studios #my writing

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tangledinink · 9 months

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MORE QUESTIONS IT IS

For Gemini, when the whole family finally gets together, what's the easiest aspect of that family reunion? The most difficult? Favorite and least favorite? (According to any of them - go nuts)

Oh gosh and golly what a fun question. Mild spoilers ahead. And, like... so much text 'cause this is a great question.

For the most part, they are all gonna end up essentially moving in with Draxum, (with the exception of April, who just visits all the time.) Splinter first, Obby eventually, and then Leo and Donnie even more eventually after that. The easiest part of this process is that Obby Raph is such a gd sweetheart. He is the most agreeable little guy alive; he will bend over backwards for his siblings to make sure things go as smoothly as possible. And, I mean... Don't get me wrong. This is a problem! :) But it's still the easiest part!

The most difficult thing is... almost everything else. Some highlights include:

Draxum, Mikey, and his sisters VS April and Casey Just. Like... as a whole.

The twins are, like... a little feral? Like, yes, they're fancy little rich boys, but they're also goddamn creechurs and adrenaline junkies. They've spent the past four years fighting for their lives in a gladiator pit on a regular basis, constantly smacking the "survival instinct" button, which is, as it just so happens, right next to the "animal instinct" button. If they are not 100% on top of "I am being a polite member of society and will not be embarrassing my mother or creating any negative publicity for my brand today," then there's, like, lowkey a 50/50 chance at any given time that they will fucking bite you.

("Look," Leo argues firmly. "If you don't wanna get bitten by Donnie, you shouldn't come up from behind him when he's eating!!! You were basically asking for it, this is so not his fault!")

And that's not even addressing the shameless lengths that they will go to try to get an adrenaline hit when they're no longer performing in the Battle Nexus...

The awkwardness of Splinter trying so desperately to get closer to his children while also trying to respect their boundaries and also trying to fucking de-program all of them at the same time, jfc

In terms of favorites/least favorites?...

MIKEY gets along with all his siblings relatively well, though LEO will hold a grudge against him for a WHILE about the whole 'kidnapping Donnie' thing... But Mikey will make up for it eventually. Over time, he and THE TWINS will grow pretty close-- DONNIE in particular. At least at first, he BY FAR has the worst relationship with APRIL and CASEY.

RAPH is closest with CASEY, but he also gets alone with all of his siblings relatively well! He takes a shining to MIKEY'S LITTLE SISTERS in particular right away. His relationship with MIKEY is somewhat strained for a while. He really wishes that he would stop calling Casey "Acceptable Human Number Two."

LEO's favorite will always be DONNIE, and while he is capable of getting along with all of his siblings, he has the hardest time with MIKEY at first, as he holds a grudge against him for kidnapping his twin. Eventually, however, they'll grow a lot closer, due to Reasons. He harbors a lot of distrust towards DRAXUM for a very long time-- which allows him and SPLINTER something to bond over.

DONNIE's favorite will always be LEO, and while he is NOT a fan of MIKEY for quite some time, he will eventually warm up to him and the two will become very close. He also gets along very well with VENUS, as he appreciates her cerebral approach to things, and they tend to have a lot in common. He tends to get annoyed with RAPH'S tendency to be a pushover. Once he warms up to APRIL, the two of them will become fast friends.

SPLINTER adores all of his children, but he and VENUS in particular grow close to each other right away. She is the first to warm up to him. The second is LEO. For obvious reasons, he holds a lot of distrust and resentment towards DRAXUM, but given that three of his children were raised by him and have no intention of moving out any time soon, he is forced to put this aside and tolerate him as much as possible.

VENUS considers herself closest with MIKEY and her YOUNGER SISTER, of course, but she grows close with SPLINTER right away, and likewise finds herself having a lot in common with DONNIE. Somewhat surprisingly, she would consider her most difficult relationship to be with DRAXUM. She holds APRIL and CASEY at arm's length and regards them with distrust for some time, given their... heritage.

MIKEY'S YOUNGEST SISTER (who I have yet to reveal/introduce, though most of you have already guessed! It's JENNIKA, of course!) considers herself closest with MIKEY and VENUS for obvious reasons, but she also gets along very well with RAPH, and, surprisingly CASEY and APRIL once she meets them. She has a harder time with LEO and DONNIE, as she views them as being somewhat stuck up/snobby at first.

CASEY is, of course, closest with RAPH, though she also gets along very well with JENNIKA. She and APRIL butt heads sometimes, but they have an immediate unspoken alliance as the only two humans. She easily has the worst relationship with MIKEY to begin with, and intends to beat his ass the next time he refers to her as "Acceptable Human Number Two."

APRIL is closest with SPLINTER, but she also gets along very well with DONNIE and JENNIKA once she gets to know them, and though she and CASEY butt heads, they have an immediate unspoken alliance as the only two humans. She has a very hard time trusting DRAXUM for a very long time. She originally has a very strained relationship with MIKEY, and intends to beat his ass the next time he refers to her as "Acceptable Human Number One."

#i have so much to say about them #gemini au #gemini au asks #asks #kiaxet #hehehehehehehhe

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romeulusroy · 9 months

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Mother and Father (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman

Word Count: 1,588

A/N: I'm at my mums. Idk why I come back. I do and it's a mess and then I go on with my life like nothing happened, like everything is fine when she's constantly choosing him over me. This is stupid and I'm stupid. This not about my dad, but my step-dad. He was a wonderful, patient, smart man and I miss him every single fucking day. The other can go to hell. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Succession Masterlist

He keeps an eye on you.

The wine is sweet. It stains your insides, pools through your bloodstream, brings a heat to your cheeks that is not unfamiliar. You’re sure if someone cut you open, if they dragged their butter knife across the softness of your stomach, out would pour the wine you’ve been refilling in your glass. It is sweet and red and you make the mistake of thinking it as blood. This house, this party, there is always a sacrifice of some kind. A lamb. A body. A mind. Something to hand out when the guests are full and bored and looking for entertainment. In a pen or cage, something with holes to poke and prod at their own delight. Every time you step through the front door you fear it’ll be you next. An aching, moaning, cerebral feeling in you tells you to run. Run as fast as you can, as far away as you can. Run and never turn back. Save yourself. You don’t listen. You never have. Somewhere along the line that kind of thinking became selfish. It became sinful. Somewhere along the line you were taught to be served on a platter like that is an expression of love. If you loved them you would cut yourself into bite size pieces. If you loved them you would bathe your skin raw. If you loved them you would wear a smile on your face while they sliced through the thickest parts of you. You would relax, untense ever muscle, so they wouldn't have to put force into it. You learned that resistance and self-respect would only land you in a muzzle and they couldn't love something that feral.

He keeps an eye on you.

The jokes. They start with the jokes. Always. They have since you were a young teenager. You’re never sure what to do, how to react. They laugh. Your mother laughs. You stand rigid, frozen, wondering over and over if you invited such thoughts. The way their hands move across your body as if it is their own. Holding you a heartbeat too long. Inspecting you, up and down, before landing on what they’ve been staring at for years. The hecatomb. It’s done publicly, the slitting of your throat, the collecting of the blood. Family not by blood nor name, but by her. By so-called-love. Desperation. Alone disguised as loneliness. And yet, he invited friends, onlookers, his own sons to take part. You were fourteen. You are still fourteen. It’s been years, years and years, but when he opens his mouth you are fourteen. You are the same child stunned, disgusted, the same child who cries in secret because their body no longer belongs to them. Others, too. A crowd. You were seventeen and drunk and you forgot. You forgot you could feel unsafe in your own home. His words carved themselves into you. Deep and serrated and looking to scar. Jokes. Your mother laughs and once again you are reminded there are sides to this kind of thing. There are sides and you know you stand alone. You’re older now. Legal. You got out, but you’re always coming back. Following the breadcrumb trail. Foolishly believing it will be different. He will be different. She will, too. They aren’t. He looks, he watches, he makes his comments. You hold back tears. You drink your sweet wine and relive every time before this where she has provided pieces of you to him, his friends, his sons, just to feel loved. You are reminded that she too has been changed by this idea of love. Warped. Mangled. That she too believes as you do: to be loved is to immolate. No exceptions. You pity her. For not getting out, for believing this, for teaching it to you. You’re hurt, too. She taught you. She laughs. Your own mother.

He keeps an eye on you.

He keeps an eye on you from the moment you walk in, taking your glass, your sips, kissing everyone hello. Falling into that crowd, your skin visibly crawling, your eyes glossing over, shrinking away into yourself until there is just a shell. An abandoned house. He should be here. With his brothers, his sister and father. He should be here mingling and schmoozing. He should be here listening to your mother go on and on about the man who jokes when he deserves hell. But you shouldn’t. You go out. You left. You fled the sinking ship you were born on. It startles him to see you. You’ve changed so much, so little. That face he remembers better than his own. The shy smile you wear when you’re embarrassed. The laugh you share and the laugh, the real one, that graces too rarely. When he’s lucky. The look of hurt in your eyes when you’re pretending you’re not. Just like now. And yet, he understands deeply. Always coming back for more. One more slap. One more hit. One more jab. It doesn’t matter that they leave you bleeding out across the floor. It doesn’t matter that you want to give up for good. It doesn’t matter that you come back with less bark, less fight, less of you. You always come back. Limping or crawling or crying out when you are unable to move. A caged animal does not trust the wild if their crate was lined with rusty nails. They seek out the sharpest thorns just to feel at home.

He keeps an eye on you.

You told him. You told him everything. You’re not sure why, what good it could have done, what good it’s done. You notice how careful his eyes are when they touch you, how cautious they are, how gentle he is. It just came up, out, dribbling down your chin like vomit. You were crying. Tired. Slamming doors like you used to when you were little. He jumped. You scared him. You didn’t mean to. He was saying those things and she was letting him, encouraging him. About you. Your body. It made you feel dirty. It made you feel vulnerable. He understood. He didn’t say how, he just did. Hiding in a bedroom you can no longer claim as your own, curled into yourself the way you used to. Hiding. Shaking. That sweet wine churning in your gut, at the back of your throat. Sobbing. His voice is so quiet, so unsure, seeping through the door. You’re not sure why you unlock it, only that you do, and he comes in, and it comes pouring out of you. You’re fourteen. You’re thirteen when that boy, that boy with that laugh, decides you are his toy. To play with. To bash against the concrete, the wall. To discard when he gets bored. You’re seven when it starts. All those years. It never really stops, does it? You’re fourteen, and still a child, and he stares at you like he’s hungry. His words starved. Like he knows what they’ve done. Like he knows she is desperate and lonely and he can do whatever he wants to her child if it means she will be loved just a little. You remember and it kills you. You ignore it, you smother it, but it never really goes away. It is always there. He wants to set the house on fire. Burn it to the ground so that there is no place to come back to. So that you can get out for good. He wants to, but he doesn’t. He knows how these things work. They’ll find somewhere else to infest. They’ll call your name and you’ll come running. Limping. Screaming.

He keeps an eye on you.

The man with the jokes, the friends, the sons. He keeps an eye on you. He criticizes every emotion that settles into your skin. Every word, every act, every fucking thought. He takes it out on you. On her. Everyone but himself. He keeps an eye on you, and makes his comments, and leans in so that his words tear you apart. He smiles as he watches, his arm around your mother, reminding you this is a game you’ve lost before it’s even started. He keeps an eye on you, too. Roman. Rich, deep, not unlike the soil of the Earth. He steps up, he offers himself to them before they can finish you off. He doesn’t mind. He never has. Not with his own father, not with yours. Let them circle around him. Let them shred what’s left of him. You know better than to stop him. What would you do? What would you say? He does it with a smile. You know how it hurts, a familiar ache in the middle of your chest like your heart is physically breaking. Shattering to sparkly bits. This goes unspoken. Every time. Every time he sees what’s going on, that look of hurt, he intervenes. He can’t get out. Not now, not ever. But you? You did. You left that man behind, you left all those boys all those years ago behind. You need to remember that. Not what they did. Not what he’s doing. Look forward. He doesn’t touch you. He doesn’t try to. But you linger at his side, so little space between you, and he knows what it means. A language only you know, only you speak. A thank you. An I’m sorry. An understanding deeper than anything you’ve ever known.

He keeps an eye on you, he protects you. He always has. He always will.

#writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy drabble #roman roy oneshot #succession #succession imagine #succession drabble #succession oneshot #succession x reader

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eternal-savvy-blog · 2 months

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hey sav what's sparkle on raven who are all these anime women on my dash what is happening

SPARKLE ON RAVEN THE LIFE OF DRILLGIRL IS AMAZING! I'm Slightly obsessed with it! XD

I have a soft spot for a particular brand of "intentionally shitty" that this youtube series perfectly nails and it makes me laugh harder than it should!

If you have ever heard of Nyan Neko Sugar Girls, it's very much inspired by that but with a bit more of an intention to simultaneously poke fun at old "Fanime" as well as generally appreciate it and show it some love

Not to get overly cerebral about it or whatever, but Sparkle On Raven speaks to me so deeply because it has an attitude about "cringe" old things we used to indulge in as 2000's teenage anime fans that feels extremely positive and healthy! I feel as if it celebrates it!

I still remember being a Teenager sat with my Weeb friends talking about the "totally rad manga we're all gonna write together one day and all our cool OC's"

Anyways! It's fuckin silly, very funny, watch it all! Here

youtube

#savvy speaks #savvy moment #get savvy #sparkle on raven #The Life of Drillgirl #Sparkle on Raven!

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shifuaang · 1 year

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Conglomerate thoughts about Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume 3 under the cut. Please do not read if you don't want to be spoiled! TLDR: I loved it.

I suppose I should preface this by saying Guardians Vol. 2 is my favorite MCU movie and that I hold no real affinity towards installments outside of the Guardians in the Marvel Universe. I used to be a pretty active and engaged fan, but Endgame swiftly put a stopper on that. I was very worried about how this film was charged with the task of picking up the pieces of a fractured and, frankly, careless and poorly written conclusion to Phase 3.

Long story short, I should have never doubted Gunn.

Gunn did an expert job at navigating the perimeters that Endgame thrust on him, ensuring that the plot didn't linger on what happened without neglecting the catastrophic weight of Thanos's actions. Bringing alternate universe Gamora into the fold seemed like a monstrous and difficult task. I have expressed before how much I hated the idea of Quill chasing down someone who isn’t even ‘his’ Gamora and trying to win her back, but Gunn handled this with absolute grace, assuring that everyone stayed in-character in their reactions and interactions. There was no backpedaling or continuity with how the Guardians were written in Infinity War and Endgame as I feared there would be. Gunn picked up from where we left off in Vol. 2 while still allowing us space to mourn Gamora's loss. Rocket's trauma and character development was taken seriously again. Every member of the Guardians had a well crafted arc and was given the appropriate amount of time to explore said arc.

The animal and child abuse was hard to watch. It felt way more violent than anything we've ever seen in the MCU, but I'm almost glad that it was. I feel that loss and violence is almost glossed over in the superhero genre. We don't quite get the full scope of devastation and impact that villains have caused in their quest for domination, colonization, and perfection. We've been desensitized to death and torture to a degree. Even the snap™, which most would site as the most evidentiary form of brutality in the the MCU, did not hold nearly as much weight as the actions of the High Evolutionary. Thankfully the plot never seemed like a hit over the head with a message of EUGENICS BAD! It was more a tragic exploration in what eugenics can do to an individual, how it desecrates the environment, and how the quest for perfection is gratuitous and futile.

In spite of the heavy subject matter and darkness of the film, Gunn still maintained the thread of humor that we love from the Guardians. I laughed out loud more than a handful of times, and every laugh came at a point in the film where it was necessary. There were no quips or jabs there to deflect from the seriousness of what was occurring, just enough to give the audience time to breathe. I am so glad that Guardians Vol. 3 was the first MCU movie to get the green light in the 'fuck' department. I can think of no franchise more deserving, and the way it was used was perhaps the funniest joke in the whole film.

I could write an entire essay on Mantis's arc and her development and how much she means to me as a character, but maybe (probably) I will save that for another day. To keep things short, I appreciated her continued empathy and sense of humor in such a bleak situation and after such a hard life. I see so much of myself in her, and it's incredibly moving to have someone represent aspects of yourself that you thought would never be portrayed in the superhero genre because they are more difficult to express emotionally and cerebrally. She's so important and so brilliantly acted by Pom, and I adore how much agency and confidence she was allowed.

As for people who say they didn't like the ending because it 'destroyed' the found family aspect of the Guardians, I never got the impression that these characters weren't going to meet up again and that they stopped being family. There was no discussion on how they were 'bad' for each other or that they'd be better off individually, which is normally the consensus when groups split in media. Quill should spend the remaining time his grandfather has with him. Mantis should go explore herself and her independence after years of captivity and compliance. Drax and Nebula should rebuild, and create, and love on the new occupants of Knowhere, as they've been forced to spend most of their lives being destroyed and being destructive. Rocket and Groot should carry on the legacy of the Guardians, protectors of the universe. And Gamora has clearly established a loving family of her own with the Ravagers, which is what she deserves. Everyone's ending felt pertinent and cathartic, and we were left with a sense of hope and a twinkle of potential for what could come in the future.

Thank you, Gunn and the cast and crew of this film, for making me cry the hardest I have in a theater since Toy Story 3, and for ending my favorite MCU series so beautifully. I honestly couldn't have asked for a better conclusion.

We'll all fly away together, one last time, into the forever and beautiful sky. 🚀

#guardians of the galaxy #guardians vol 3 #james gunn #anti endgame #just in case lol #review #gotg #gotg spoilers #gotg vol 3

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ungeographical · 6 days

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well. I guess it depends on what relationship head canons you have for ukus if they ever truly got together?

I had to think about this (nap) because I realised just how LITTLE established relationship UKUS I've actually consumed. I think I've read a lot more established RusAme than established UKUS. Maybe because I'm incredibly picky about the latter dynamic? Anyway - because I haven't read a lot of it, I had to think really hard about what it would look like.

I personally don't think there would be obvious differences between Arthur-and-Alfred-as-friends and Arthur-and-Alfred-as-lovers, but that still means talking about how I see Arthur and Alfred as friends.

As friends, banter is a huge part of Alfred and Arthur's dynamic. A long time ago, there was probably real bitterness in their jabs. Over time, it becomes a softer thing. (One of the songs I associate with UKUS is "So American" by Olivia Rodrigo, because I absolutely believe that's one of the things Arthur always says to Alfred - "you're so American", smirking or laughing, no sharpness or rebuke in his words.)

Arthur grew up with a lot of siblings and he's quick witted - but Alfred has amazing memory and can bring up anything anyone has done that he's witnessed, and is really good at knowing exactly what someone finds embarrassing or infuriating. They have fun riling each other up - this is what leads to them trying to scare each other silly every Halloween.

As a couple, this doesn't change. (It works for them, especially since both of them have a hard time expressing themselves sincerely.) The importance of this aspect of their dynamic is the fact that Alfred doesn't get offended by any of Arthur's comments - not the stuff about himself, or his dry, unimpressed observations about everything around him. He finds it funny, and Arthur thrives on that. Arthur has suffered a lot from being tied to people who found him wanting in some way, but Alfred is one of the few people who actively enjoys and seeks out Arthur's company and doesn't seem to find him wanting in some way.

The second thing is they have a good balance of things they enjoy doing together, and things they're dragging each other to. Alfred enjoys a lot of British media and food (once again, something that's more important to Arthur than he can say). Arthur enjoys McDonald's, and doesn't mind eating there when Alfred gets a craving. But Arthur doesn't enjoy the wilderness in the way Alfred does - is a bit ... discomfited at how there's huge swathes of American land that are completely wild. Alfred drags him to these places, for hiking and camping, and Arthur re-discovers a part of himself that he'd lost in England's industrialisation. Meanwhile, Arthur really pushes Alfred to appreciate the depth of English and European history. It allows for both comfort and growth in their relationship.

The third thing - Alfred is high energy, and so curious about the world. I absolutely believe Alfred has a few doctorates under his belt and invents and fixes things in his spare time. While I don't see Alfred working for the government, I can sometimes see him working for NASA. He's constantly tinkering or jotting things down. He's actually incredibly cerebral.

Arthur is physical. He never stopped sword fighting, and practices martial arts. He runs, and goes to the gym, does boxing (I've mentioned these things in my headcanon about England's appearance before). But when he's not doing those things, he does things that quiet his mind. He crochets or knits. Something repetitive and soothing. Meditative.

They can sit for hours in the same room, Arthur knitting while Alfred has blueprints spread over their coffee table. And its peaceful, and you don't think it even matters if the other person is there or not, but Arthur has to go to London for a week to sort something out and Alfred can't get anything done at home and has to go to the office every day.

HAVE I EVEN SAID ANYTHING IN THIS ASK. Basically Alfred and Arthur after having sex is incredibly similar to them before having sex. The act of sex changes everything and nothing all at once. But their relationship is a lot of being able to feel appreciated where you never felt appreciated before, a lot of being able to do things together that you love, and doing things together that you hate but somehow still helps you grow as a person, and also being able to do nothing together.

#ukus #usuk #aph america #aph england #hetalia #theyre actually a boring relationship bc once they get there theyre married for ten years #like immediately they fuck and then settle into utter domesticity #their sex life is spicy as fuck tho #t: ask #m: hetalia #hetalia: headcanon (ship)#s: england/america

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beautifulpersonpeach · 8 months

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BPP, a straightforward person like you deserves a straightforward question.

No matter what you do with them afterwards, who would be the best in bed? That is, the one who would make YOU feel the best in bed?

***

Now...

I know we're all bored and dreadfully in need of entertainment, but what in the holy devil is this?

Not that I'm upset getting this kind of ask, (assuming you're not the same 'Anon' aka the empty account that's taken to sending me BTS feet pics in the last few weeks), but how can I possibly answer this honestly without incriminating myself?

The only solution I see here is to pull something of a smoke trick - to write in my honest answer surrounded by a bunch of dishonest ones. So Anon, the last thing you'll be getting from me is a straightforward answer, despite your straightforward question. :)

First, the honourable mentions:

Taehyung - He seems like the kind of lay you meet at a party, he'd approach first chatting you up for exactly 47 mins talking about nothing in particular but he'd sprinkle in oddly personal questions here and there, making sure to keep your glass always full. Just before you dip (47 mins is a fairly long time for a party chat), he'd ask you over to his place to have drunk, languid, lazy sex. For some people, one night stands allow them to become more uninhibited, more willing to try new things etc, and party drugs of various kinds including alcohol can help facilitate that sometimes. But alcohol-fueled, no strings attached, lazy sex hasn't really been my speed for years, so it's a pass from me.

Seokjin - He has a reputation of having a massive cock but much of what the fandom ascribes as BDE for him just seems to me like the typical air of authority anyone in his position would have given the age hierarchy in Korea. In my experience, big dicked Korean guys are significantly more obnoxious than anything we've seen Jin display, they're also really into fairly unusual kinks, for whatever reason, so since I don't get any of those vibes from Jin, I assume he'd be a decent lay but only that. For my tastes at least.

The smoke screen:

Yoongi - Getting the obvious suspect out of the way, I don't think Yoongi has the kind of stamina I'm looking for in a good fuck. Which is kinda tragic for me, as you can imagine. The cerebral connection would be there - a non-negotiable for me - and he seems like the kind to not mind a messy tangle on various surfaces if that's how things play out. But could he last longer than the time it takes to stream The Paradox album by Jacob Banks from top to bottom? I doubt it. But I'd be willing to test my hypothesis if given the opportunity.

Jimin - Now, stamina is not a problem for Jimin. I don't really read fanfic but I'm aware he's mostly taken to be the soft bottom in most pairings, maybe because people perceive him to be delicate and feminine especially during sex. While that could be true and technically isn't a hindrance for me, I suspect his natural undercurrent of intensity is brought to the fore during sex. Which I'd like. And that he's more of an equal opportunity kind of fuck. If you know what I mean. So not exactly a switch, and not exactly fully uninhibited but closer to that than the other guys maybe save Hoseok. He also seems like the sort to care more about the where, why, and how of the fuck, than any of the other guys, which I appreciate. But again, I'd be open to testing my hypothesis.

Namjoon - He's clumsy and can't seem to butter toast without everyone around him being worried for their safety and his, but I'm very certain that man knows how to lay pipe. He's been much too unguarded and explicit about it in the past for me to have any real doubts about his experience. I also suspect he's the sort to seek an emotional and cerebral connection with someone, buttering them up with loads of foreplay (somewhat and maybe adorably clumsily), before going in for the kill. Which I'd like. But out of all the guys, he'd be the first to catch feelings. I also think he's the most likely of the members to potentially lurk on Tumblr so Joon if you're reading this, we're both into trying experiments and my DMs are open so feel free to reach out but only after you've already had your rebound.

Jungkook - I think he's a lot more similar to Namjoon in this way than a lot of people think. I can't really go into detail explaining what I mean because well, no, but if stamina was my only requirement in a good fuck, JK would be the only option here. *insert any 'Seven and Jk is a bunny' joke of your choice here* He has this restlessness in most things he does that I find really sweet actually, and I don't think it will be absent during sex. But he'd temper it with being emotionally present, careful, delicate for the whole affair. I like that he's meaty enough to bite into, there'd be a lot of him to hold on to for dear life if we somehow end up on the wall or on a bridge.

Hoseok - He's the sort of guy who knows exactly what he wants and goes straight for it without taking any detours. I think. Not to say he's rough and callous, though I'm not exactly opposed to that depending on the situation, but I suspect he'd be the most likely to directly ask you about your needs, wants, and limits before bumping uglies. Which I'd like too because fully verbalized consent really is sexy. Afterwards though, I think he'd be a cuddler and the biggest one out of the seven. Which I'd like. But I also like to dabble in various things that I think he'd be hesitant to trying because he's conscious about his maintaining his physical health and 'purity'. Maybe. Not a dealbreaker but, you know. I wonder if this vibe I get from him will change after he's done with his military service though, in which case, again, I'd be open to verifying my assumptions with practical experience.

Lol, anyway, there you go, Anon.

#fun asks #and a fair bit of fan fiction #how did I do? :)#taehyung #seokjin #yoongi #jimin #namjoon #jungkook #hoseok

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torialefay · 3 months

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Hey! Here is my chart! Thank you so much for doing this. You honestly have no clue how excited I am. 😂

The many similarities in have with Chan is sometimes ridiculous, but I have a feeling you’re going to be able to see that. 😂😂

Let me know if you need anything!

xxmel

Here you are little honey ❤️

Ascendant in Gemini (1st house):

Yayayay Ascendant in Gemini. Same as Chan’s. From what I’ve seen, I think any air sign is naturally initially drawn to any other air sign. Especially in that witty Gemini energy, I think the connection between the two of you would be electric right off the bat. I think it’s even more supported by y’alls Libras both in Mercury… Like the convos would be SUPERIOR. It’s just one of those things that I think even if you had different stances on something, you’d really get why the other person felt that way and would leave with a newfound understanding and appreciation for their opinion.

In everyday life, I think this would manifest as lowkey being the party couple. Y’all just GET others and like to be around them (only limited tho bc y’all both have a lot of cerebral shit going on and even though you’re good at small talk, you have to escape sometimes and get that real mental stimulation.) I do see your friend groups intertwining though. He’d be besties with all your friends.

Midheaven in Pisces (12 house):

I normally don’t do Midheaven unless there’s a planetary placement there, but when I saw yours, I was like okayyyyy this makes sense. The way I see midheaven is that it’s heavily reflected in your online or social media presence. Being a Pisces Sun, I’m ngl I was like ‘okay this girl is just like me’ the first time you messaged me! Even though my MC is in Aquarius, I realllly see an extension of MC into the 11th house (so my Pisces too). I literally love the MC in Pisces placement bc I feel like it’s just so natural for making friends. I’m gonna bet you easily make friends through social media, even from the first time reaching out. And obviously Pisces being the ruler of the 12th house, you had to talk to me over our witchy, astro, spirituality shit bc it’s in your starrrrrs 🤭

Sun in Virgo in the 4th house:

Idk why but I hardly ever see 4th house placements on here… But you’re literally a married woman though so go figure. I feel weird explaining things bc I know you already know this…. SO I would bet that you’re a pretty cozy girl. Don’t get me wrong, you can def get along with people on a night out or something, but I think you’d be a great mothering type. Even if you don’t have or want kids, you probably have some quality about you that would bring a lot of comfort to those you live with. With practicality being involved, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were very supportive in your family endeavors and great at giving advice!

I’d also say from this placement that when you make friends, you turn them into family. People who meet you originally see you as fun, smart, and charming (even if you won’t admit it), but when getting closer to you, they realize that you are actually a really good friend who will always be truthful with them. In this way, I think the people that you allow into your life are those you deeeeply care about and treat them as one of your own.

Note: I also just feel like this plays into you expecting a lot of yourself. That’s all, just wanted to point that out (but Chan too so lord help yall).

I think this is a great placement with Chan tbh. We all know he’s has a “father” aspect to the kids, and I honestly think you’d be able to take on a mothering role to them as well. I could see your younger friends calling the both of you “Mom and Dad”. <3

Moon in Taurus in the 12th:

I loveeeee this placement and think it’s a great one with Chan. Reading your chart just seems to back every little thing up. Ofc Chan’s moon is in Libra so he needs that balance in life, but of course he has a hard time getting it with his internal struggles of knowing himself for who he truly is. I think it would be great for him to have a strong, steadfast sign like Taurus to support him and make him feel known. I feel like a lot of people view Taurus as this stubborn, unwavering sign, but I just don’t fully agree. I think the only time this is true is when they feel like they see things that others clearly DON’T. With it ruling over beauty and love, you’d be able to assure Chan in a very nurturing way. I could see you healing him in ways that he doesn’t even realize until he looks back to see how far he’s come in learning to love himself. The 12th placement is so wholesome too, I think it’d deffff be a soul-healing experience.

Mercury in Libra in the 5th house:

With your placement here in the 5th, I’d venture to guess that you are someone who looooooves having deep conversations. You probably also love being able to help people by giving them advice. It’s likely that being able to accurately communicate with people of all kinds is important to you. With Libra neeeeeding their harmony too, you probably have a sweet way of talking to people that makes them feel seen and understood (you prob really want this too tho hehe).

Chan’s Mercury is also in Libra, so I’m sure you would both have good communication for the most part. The ONLY thing I could somewhat worry about with both being in Libra, you both tend to avoid conflict. You would have to MAKE sure to talk with each other honestly, even if it could possibly hurt the others feelings (especially making sure to not sugar coat things too much). I will say, with all your Virg placements, I do see you having the upper hand in communication. Solving problems between the two of you, I also think you have the upper hand at analyzing what is the true problem and getting to it that way.

Venus in Virgo in the 4th house:

This placement tells me that you have a very loving, but not too suffocating, nature when in relationships with others. I think to be in a relationship with you would feel very stable. You are likely just GOOD at relationships. You understand what it means to be a good partner and how to make others feel loved. I look at the Virgo-Pisces axis as the axis of service… you having the upper hand at MAKING service (esp to a partner) happen. I look at Chan’s Libra as being on the “focus” axis, obviously his focus being on other people… wanting to please them.

Long story short, I think y’all would be great at making sure each other’s needs are being met. Whether that’s how frequent, where, and what types of things you’d like to explore in the bedroom.

Mars in Virgo in the 4th house:

With this placement, I think that having a pleasant surrounding, especially in the home, is gonna be super important to you. With that Virgo energy though, I do think this is a place you need to be careful with Chan. Since you have such high expectations of yourself, you may also expect others to live up to this standard. Chan’s Mars lives in Sag, so he may be a little more predisposed to needing his own freedom… or he may just not get it a little bit lol. And Chan can be explosive in fights so he defff wouldn’t like if he felt that way. But with all of your Virgo placements PLUS that Libra Mercury energy, I think you’d be able to make up just fine and reconcile. <3

Overall thoughts:

Big Mommy and Daddy energy. Y’alls relationship would be sickeningly sweet and cute and nurturing and understanding and ugh i cant stand yall 🙄

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