#usually when i look at a route i just see it on the map but this time i traveled through paris! :D

[rileyslibrary]

Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them

Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.

Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!

———————————————————————

“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.

You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.

“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”

“Cut it out.”

“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”

A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.

“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”

“A sharp one.”

“Stop it.”

“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”

He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.

“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”

You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.

“You’re worried.” You state.

“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”

“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.

He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.

“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”

“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”

“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”

“I just need you to be ready.”

“I am ready!”

“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”

“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”

“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.

You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.

“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”

“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”

“Knock.”

He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.

“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”

“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”

You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.

“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”

“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”

You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.

“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”

You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”

He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.

“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”

“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.

“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #cod mw ghost

[britishchick09]

204 rue de rivoli, where rewrite nadir’s flat is! :)

#fun fact: a real persian guy also lived here! ;D #rewrite erik walks here all on his own during a future rewrite mystery stoty #he's becoming an independent lass! #...and a very nervous one #he accidentally turns on the wrong road and is like '!!!!!' but he eventually finds his way! :) #christine would look around carefully but erik had the tiniest bit of human interaction before that and it made him internally freak out #he's not a social butterfly! (neither is christine but her brain wouldn't have an error 404 at a cab driver tipping his hat to her) #she's very proud of erik for going out on his own though! :) #usually when i look at a route i just see it on the map but this time i traveled through paris! :D #i didn't make erik's mistake but i traveled through there just to see what it was like #it's neat to walk through the streets of paris! :) #so many haussmann buildings!: o #poto rewritten

[preservationofnormalcy]

[As I climb the multiple levels of stairs to the ranger tower, I take a moment to stop and reflect. I’m exhausted - after the hike to get here, the relief that I felt upon seeing the tower was tempered by the realization I had several flights of stairs ahead of me. I was in Washington State, flown here by my handlers to talk to seemingly the only Esoteric Ranger that would be available for the next month. Not for the first time, I wondered what it meant that they heavily suggested my interview subjects. The best person for the job, or the best PR face in the department?

I reach the top and stop again, and take a drink of water. A figure sitting inside the room at the top turns and sees me, and gets up to open the door. He is young, in his mid to late twenties, long brown hair done up in a bun, a large scraggly beard over the top of his ranger uniform. He has a look of amusement on his face, a sort of polite smile doing its best to cover up a smirk. His accent is thick, Appalachian, and his demeanor still manages to convey a sort of genial calm.]

S] Meghan, right?

M] Yeah. Hold on, let me…catch my breath.

S] Aint no worry. Take the time you need. I’ll just leave the door propped open. And if it helps, there’s iced tea in here waiting for you.

M] That does help. I’ll just….be a second.

[After a moment, I joined the man in the observation room. A cot, a shelf of supplies, a desk with a radio setup, a laptop on a table. A simple room for an apparently complex job. The tree-eye logo of the Rangers is plastered on many surfaces, well worn.]

M] Sheamus Doyle, right?

S] Yes ma’am.

M] I’m Meghan.

S] Pleasure to meet you. Lemme just….

[He takes a jug of iced tea from a minifridge and pours some into two mismatched cups, sitting at the small table and glancing at his laptop for a moment as I sit across from him.]

S] Pardon me, just watchin’ the ‘squatches.

M] Watching?

[He turns the screen around - a topographic map of the area is displayed, black with white lines, with about a dozen white dots congregating in two places.]

S] We’ve been watching the cryptid migrations. They been odd since….well, since. Ain’t been following their normal routes.

M] Is that what the Rangers do? I’m sure you know I’m here to ask questions, so….I guess that’ll be my first one.

S] A large part of it, yes ma’am. Cryptid watch.

M] I guess that’s the “catch and release” part of the poster I saw.

S] Mhmm. It’s hard work, y’know. Better here’n in the Everglades taggin’ skunk apes though.

M] Let me look at my notes…kind of scrambled after the hike here.

S] Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Everyone’s gotta do a stint in the firewatch, and we pull double duty takin’ notes on the ‘squatches while we’re here.

M] Tell me a little about the Esoteric Rangers.

S] We’re older than the Office is. Bet they ain’t told you that.

M] How so?

S] Office was founded in ‘27, right? E-Rangers were a secret division of the National Park Service, founded –

M] 1916, eleven years earlier.

S] That’s right. Even then they knew weird stuff happens in the forests, so they had a little bit earmarked for people to investigate or protect people from the weird stuff, and the weird stuff from people. When the Office came around later, we got folded into them instead. But by that time, y’know. Eleven years. That’s enough time for a place to develop a sort of….culture.

M] How do you mean?

S] We’re under the jurisdiction of the Office for the Preservation of Normalcy, ma’am, but between you an’ me, the Rangers have our own ways of doing things, our own rules. Was a requirement of the merger.

M] I see. So forested areas are your jurisdiction?

S] Anything that takes place on ‘r around a national park or a nature preserve usually has at least one of us onsite. We have our checklists, our methods for findin’ out what’s going on. Weird shit happens far from civilization.

M] Like what?

S] Reality sorta…gets weak, out here. I heard y’talked to Wren.

M] I did.

S] They’re always on about that noosphere stuff. Out here, with no people, noosphere kinda gets a little…wobbly. It’s like…if enough human minds are the bungee cords holdin’ down a tarp. It’s fine most of the time, but sometimes there’s a wind, you know? The noosphere don’t have the guidance to tell it what to do, so you get…

[He trailed off.]

M] What?

S] I seen weird shit, ma’am. Woodpeckers that move backwards, sealing up holes in trees. Hikers from twenty years ago, missing their faces. Places where the sun never shines, like that old song. Areas that looked like Lucifer’s vacation home, all burned and sulphur-smoke. Deer speakin’ in the voices of dead relatives, antlers shining blue. Gunshots where there shouldn’t be people. Realspace is weak out here. Veil gets thin when there ain’t no one to see it.

M] Is all that true?

S] As true as Mama’s promises.

M] Mmh. Tell me about the….cryptids. What is a cryptid? I know it’s like…unknown creatures, but for you they’re clearly….known, right?

[He sat back after a drink of his tea, giving a wince and a so-so gesture of his hand.]

S] That’s the mundane definition, yeah. The Office’s definition of a cryptid is….a creature whose existence ain’t really evolutionarily plausible, that would raise a lot a’ questions were it known. Jackalopes, you know, no other bunny has antlers, sort of thing. They probably didn’t evolve, per se, so…

M] What about the sasquatch? Wouldn’t it just be seen as a missing link?

[He nods, thinks for a second, looks at his computer, and then jerks his head to the door.]

S] Lemme show you something.

[On the platform outside, bolted onto the railing, is a telescope - or I assume it is. Attached to the long barrel of the device are a lot of wires, a plastic casing that looked like it housed a small electronic assembly, and a revolving series of lenses that look like they can be rotated into the eye ports like an optometrist’s testing machine. He looks into the scope, adjusting the lenses and a few knobs on the side of the device, and locks it into place.]

S] Here, take a look.

[I look into the scope - for a moment, I think there’s something wrong with it. I can see a clearing in the forest, and three….shapes. Smudges on the lenses? No, he’d have seen that. The shapes are blurry blobs from this distance, out of sync from their sharper surroundings. I’m about to take my eyes away from the scope and ask what I’m looking at when I feel him reach over and adjust the lenses again, rotating a new set into place. It’s accompanied by an electric click and a soft whine from the device, and now I can see them clearly. The three blobs were large, humanoid figures, covered head to toe in rusty brown fur. One stands guard in the clearing, while another sits on a stone, grooming the fur of a third, possibly a juvenile. They are...impossible. Majestic creatures, even from this distance.]

S] We call it an Obfuscation Field. They’re sort of always….blurry. In the 30’s we developed techniques to see through it, y’know, but it’s one of those things people can’t find out about.

M] Unbelievable.

S] Somethin’ wrong?

M] It’s just…this whole time, you know?

[He leaned on the railing, taking a vape pen out of his shirt pocket.]

S] Yeah, I heard they kind of threw you into all this. Sink ‘r swim. I wager most people get a slower introduction.

M] Did you?

[He took a hit of his vape pen.]

M] Should you be doing that on the job?

[He gave me an amused look, gesturing around to the forest. I could almost imagine a hypothetical camera comically zooming out to show the remoteness of the tower.]

S] Nah, I grew up in all this. My family’s been practicing “The Work”, so to speak, since they came here four or five generations ago. I never got the hang of witchcraft, myself. You get a dud every other generation, so they say. My sister’s a natural though, she’s interning with the Office in Archival.

M] Some people are sort of…born into knowing this stuff.

S] We call it being “in the community”. At a certain point it all blends together. Your family does folk magic at a certain level, you grow up with your best friend bein’ a lycan, that kinda thing.

M] I feel like I’ve missed out.

S] Ma’am, sometimes it’s more trouble’n it’s worth.

M] Yeah?

S] I love my friends, my family, but….you think I wouldn’t flick a switch, give all this up? Be Sheamus the hipster and not Sheamus the cryptid hunter? Be a hell of a lot more simple. Weird shit attracts more weird shit.

[He took another hit, exhaling a thick cloud. For a moment, shapes in the cloud coalesce - the prominent brow of an ape, a rabbit with antlers. I wonder if he was being modest about his lack of magic.]

M] I’m not really sure.

S] You’re letting it get to you, all of this. So quick, so extreme. I think you need an industrial grade chill pill, ma’am.

M] Maybe I do.

S] I got a guy coming in to bring me supplies tonight. Stay here, watch the sunset, you drive back with him.

M] Are you sure?

S] Hundred percent. Take the evenin’, ma’am. You need it.

(Buy the poster here!)

#office for the preservation of normalcy #interview #esoteric rangers #cryptids #Bigfoot #sasquatch #jackalope #cryptidcore #in the pines in the pines #ooc: sorry I’ve been so quiet. hopefully back on the horse <3 #urban fantasy

[ken-dom]

Everything Looks Better When The Sun Goes Down

Driver x afab!reader

3k words

∘₊✧ Summary: Getaways usually come with a strong dose of adrenaline. He can usually deal with it himself, but this time a far more thrilling prospect presents itself.

∘₊✧ Authors notes: I wrote this well over a month ago, and finally decided to dust it off and post, with encouragement from K, with whom the Driver conversation is never-ending and delicious! I would advise caution because he's kinda creepy in this one (compared to how I’ve written him before). Title from Make Me Wanna Die by The Pretty Reckless.

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: NSFW, dubious consent, masturbation, fingering, sex, glove kink, kissing kink, just a dash of sneaky, creepy, stalker-y Driver

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

Driver’s leather-covered fingers tightened with a creak of resistance against the steering wheel. He might know the roads like the back of his hand, but being the getaway driver comes with the occupational hazard of not actually being able to control what your chasers will do, no matter how clever and thorough your plan.

Even if you’ve seen every trick in the book. Even if you have something of a sixth sense for predicting their movements.

Surprises can’t always be avoided, and tonight he was doing his best to get out of a surprise.

This had been just a touch more complicated to plot than his usual getaway routine. Locations hadn’t been quite as simple to pin down so timings would be off and he couldn’t have that. The only alternative was to alter his default plan of action only very slightly, yet the risks, apparently, tripled.

Or maybe Driver had just been unlucky.

He had kicked out the two masked men he had been hired to drive, easily getting rid of them en route as part of the plan, sticking to time down to the second, and then embarking on the more unusual part two, which simply required Driver to get himself away and hide the car somewhere different to where he’d hidden them. The route was meticulously added to his map, the hiding spots checked, double and triple checked, ahead of time.

Yet, despite the police radio suggesting they’d lost sight of tonight’s unassuming car of choice, the cops had picked back up, hot on Driver’s trail the moment he pulled back out onto the main streets.

He didn’t bat an eyelid at first. He knew what he was doing, after all; this wasn’t his first car chase by a long stretch. If he wanted to ‘wing it,’ he could. Easily. But he would never. He would simply go about the bulletproof backup plan designed for the event that this unlikely situation would come to fruition. All was fine.

Except that he really couldn’t seem to shake them. Every move he made, it was as though they’d read his mind and were one step ahead. It wouldn’t have been possible, but it was as if they somehow seen his detailed maps. They were only for his eyes though, and if anyone ever did see them… well. He would have to make it so that they remained only for his eyes.

Whatever was going on here, it seemed almost like someone was out to get him personally. His jaw clenched at the thought and his heart began to slam against his chest, breathing fast and ragged.

He tried to refocus. On the road, on the soft interior of his jacket against his arms. On the toothpick almost chewed in two between his teeth.

There were limited options at this point, and he was running out of ideas, running out of streets to slip down before they could predict his next action.

Driver firmly reminded himself to stick to the facts and ignore his physical response. He was still ahead. Just. 

Actually, he was nearing your house. Oh…

No.

He shouldn’t distract himself, but it was hard not to notice that he’d pulled onto your street almost by muscle memory alone and he wondered if you’d see him, followed by that one police car that he was sure would soon be two, then three, sirens blazing.

It was darker down here. Residential, with parked cars dotted up and down the road, canopied with large leafy trees that blocked out the moonlight, too. So he killed his headlights and slowed down to avoid attracting any additional unwanted attention.

His ears pricked up as the discussion on the radio started up again in place of relaying the names of the streets they were chasing him down; they’d lost him again.

Just like last time they lost him. But they had found him as soon as he resurfaced, and he couldn’t sit out here on your street all night in plain view, no matter how unsuspecting the car may look to your neighbours.

A little blue Honda rattled by and he flinched.

Come on. Get a grip, he scolded himself.

His head began to pound.

He needed to find somewhere new to hide the car properly, and hide himself while he was at it. Fast. Somewhere he could stay for long enough that they’d really give up this time.

Another thought struck him and he blinked hard. He had to regain some self control. But your house was approaching on the right.

He couldn’t. Could he? 

His eyes scanned the street. There were no other Hondas. No other moving vehicles. He couldn’t see anyone peering out of their windows into the dark street. 

Then he found the end of your driveway, visible in the near distance. Your garage door was up. No car. You were out. Perfect.

No. He couldn’t.

Fuck. He was going to have to. 

Besides, if anything did come of this, he could keep you safe. He was sure of that. No harm would ever come to you on his watch. Ever.

He slowly pulled onto your driveway and rolled the car to a gentle stop inside the garage, winding down the driver side window to punch the button on the wall that controlled the garage door. With a low hum and a light clicking, it swung down and locked into place with a soft clunk.

Complete darkness. The purr of the engine. And then, the crackle of the police radio.

Driver tensed, every bit of focus honed in on the voices coming through the small device.

With a note of three identifiable items: the car colour, model and number plate (two of which could easily be altered), and a reminder of where it was last seen (the next street along from this one), they’d officially given up the chase.

He relaxed into his seat, slumping down and stretching his long legs as far as they could lengthen in the confinement of the footwell, spreading his knees and dropping his head back against the headrest.

He would need to stay here for now, but that was manageable.

He killed the engine, trying to force his breath even and steady himself before he got out. 

Although it had been tough, now it was over, he couldn’t deny that it had been exciting. There was rarely a time it wasn’t.

He felt a stirring in his core, the familiar thrill that ran through his trembling body every time he got away, high on adrenaline and filled with self satisfaction.

And he did get away. Every time. But this time? It had been a closer call than any he could remember and he was shaking, excitement coursing through his veins, sending all his blood south to throb between his spread thighs.

He chuckled, smirking and dropping his hands to his lap from where they were still bracing, tight storing the steering wheel. His breath caught in his throat as one palm slowly teased higher up his thigh.

It was becoming painful to sit here in these too-tight jeans, the denim rough against his leaking cock, and he hissed as he dragged his palm over the thrumming bulge that had formed inside them the moment he knew he was safe.

He felt a particularly thick drop of precum leak from his tip, gasping at the short lived relief his wandering hand had provided, gloved fingers now flying to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans and free his aching length, all patience out the window. It didn’t matter how long it took. He just needed the release.

But as the first button popped undone, his ears pricked up at the unmistakable sound of tires rolling onto your driveway behind that garage door. He froze, heart racing, cock twitching, every sense heightened almost painfully.

He relaxed when he heard your car door slam shut, the sound of your shoes on the gravel. He’d know those sounds anywhere. He knew all the sounds you made – he’d studied you enough – and had an entire catalogue of them stored away safely in the back of his mind.

Hastily, he reached for the radio and flipped the switch back on. Nothing. Nothing about him, anyway. Nothing about you. You were safe even with him locked away inside your garage.

He heard your keys jingling against the lock of your front door, knowing you were inside once it had clicked shut and the jingle was muffled.

He breathed a long, shaky sigh of relief.

Seconds later, his personal cell buzzed from inside his jacket pocket.

One hand resting still against the denim covering his aching hard on, he fished his phone out and unlocked it, absentmindedly rubbing his fingertips over his length and whimpering when he saw your name on the screen above the message you’d sent.

‘Hey, babe… you up?’

Another thick pearl of precum.

Fuck. He could hide in here all night, sexting with you from just the next room, or…

He didn’t bother fastening up his belt or that one button he’d opened when he swung the car door open and jumped out, biting back a moan at the friction of his jeans settling, slightly looser and more comfortable, against his cock as he stood.

He knew where you kept your spare key, and the combination on the safety box that kept it hidden, so he retrieved it and let himself in through the internal garage door that led to your kitchen.

Driver was silent. Barely a sound as he crept through the house, knowing every floorboard and the placement of every piece of furniture down to the millimetre.

The house was dark, which made it easy for him. You’d only switched on one lamp since you returned; the one in the hallway where you still stood, hanging up your jacket and waiting for him to reply.

Your phone laid unlocked on the sideboard, opened to the message you’d sent him as you slipped off your shoes, eagerly awaiting his reply. 

‘Come on,’ you breathed needily at your screen, ‘start typing!’ — and Driver swallowed hard.

He stuck to the shadows as he watched you, from the kitchen doorway, careful not to let his breathing turn too heavy, and certainly not above stroking himself over his jeans a couple of times just for the thrill of it.

You threw your shoes in the cupboard and picked up your phone again, checking to see if he was typing yet, and upon seeing that he wasn’t even online right now, you heaved a disappointed breath.

He might not have typed a reply, but he was ready to answer you.

‘I’m up,’ he breathed, hot against the back of your neck and you jumped, but his arms wrapped tight around yours, keeping you from fighting back, and he pulled you close as he breathed you in.

The still-gloved fingers of one of his hands hand toyed with the neckline of your shirt, ghosting around your throat as the other thrust unceremoniously into your jeans and dragged through your folds.

Even with his gloves on, he could tell you were already soaked.

It took you a terrifying moment, but your instinctual fear subsided, quickly replaced with burning arousal when you felt his cock pressing into your back, smelled his familiar scent, felt his glove teasing at your throat.

‘You are up,’ you sighed, reaching behind yourself to snake a hand between your flush bodies and drag your palm over his length in time with the fingers so precisely massaging your clit, and you moaned. Loud.

Driver’s knees felt like they might give out.

‘Mmmh-’ he hummed into your ear, ‘s-stop- fuck-’

You grinned, smug as ever about how easy he was to unravel, and at the wet patch you’d felt seeping through his thick jeans.

Despite the heat rapidly pooling at your core, you didn’t think on it for long, because any coherent thought was immediately pushed out of your mind when his hands left your core and throat, instead gripping your shoulders and spinning you to face him, slamming you back against the wall, his lips crashing onto yours with bruising force.

He pushed a thigh between your legs, pressing firmly against your heat and you moaned, muffled by his mouth as his tongue dragged hungrily against yours. Driver was always such a needy kisser, so passionate and intense and it made your head spin. But this was something else. 

You gripped him hard, moaning and writhing against him, and he shuddered at your reaction, whining against your lips before fully pulling away to focus on freeing his cock.

Slightly dizzy, you removed your own trousers as fast as you could, hooking a leg around his waist as he shoved his wet jeans down and pushed forward, lifting you in his strong arms to help you clamp your other leg around his waist.

His eyes slid closed as he felt your slick against his cock, trying with all his might not to spill his release before he’d fucked you. The adrenaline was still so fresh, spurred on by breaking in and sneaking up on you, that he could hear his blood pumping in his ears. He felt almost invincible; but he knew that with just one eager and misguided move he would cum, ending it all too soon.

No. He needed to feel you around him. Feel you clench with need. Hear you scream. Fill you up.

He closed his eyes to refocus.

Now you were pinned between him and the wall, he slipped a hand down to guide himself to your entrance, a simultaneous relieved groan from both of you echoing around your entrance hall as he slid himself inside.

He stilled for a moment, composing himself, forehead pressed to yours because he knew that a kiss, even a soft and tender exchange, would break him.

He also knew that right now, one thrust and it would be over for him, so he moved his fingers up, massaging your clit in slow, precise circles, as though this was all designed purely to give you time to adjust.

Your head dropped back and you squirmed, trying to fuck yourself on him as his fingers sent wave after wave of shuddering bliss through your body. The angle was delicious, but balanced around his waist you couldn’t move enough to get what you needed.

‘Please,’ you begged, ‘fuck me- please-’

Driver growled, low and dark, against your throat. He could never resist giving you exactly what you wanted, and he could feel your walls tightening around him already. A low groan tore from his throat. You were close too. 

Sicko, he thought. Like it when I break in and sneak up behind you? Shove a hand in your pants to try and get you off before you even realise it’s me?

Keeping his fingers against your throbbing bundle of nerves, he fucked you alright. Hard and fast and unrelenting, hips snapping frantically as he whimpered and gasped weakly into the thick air filling the inch between your mouths.

It was too late to stop his orgasm approaching. He’d been simmering for too long, and the way you’d kissed him, the way you’d begged him, the way you got wet just from him acting like a creep… his head was spinning.

The way he was fucking you, unceasing and intense, had you clawing at his jacket, wishing he’d taken it off so you could feel more of him, but there was no time. You pushed your fingers up to slide through his soft, neat hair instead, and he shuddered against you, biting down on his bottom lip. His blood boiled.

Fuck it. He smashed his lips back onto yours, tears pricking his eyes.

He finally spilled inside you, cock pulsing through his release. He squeezed his eyes shut, painfully aware you hadn’t cum yet, but his fingers on your clit hadn’t ceased, and as his cock began to soften, sensitive with aftershocks, he felt you clench tight around him. Your fingertips scraped against his scalp and your legs tightened around his waist and you cried out, loud and strangled, bucking your hips wildly as you chased your release.

Driver’s eyes welled with the tears he couldn’t bite back, dropping onto your shirt.

As you came down from your high, you stroked his hair back into place and slipped down from your position, standing on wobbly legs, head spinning, and Driver propped himself up with an arm against the wall, caging you in.

Your palm grazed his cheek, a tender thumb wiping his tears away.

He leant into your touch, eyes closed and breath slowing all the while.

‘So it was you who closed my garage door?’ you whispered, and he nodded against your palm. ‘Naughty boy,’ you added, teasing.

He looked up at you through the most stunning, sparkling, wet eyes and you knew you’d never stay mad for long – especially not when he fucked you so good and unravelled for you so easily.

‘Been on a job, baby?’ you cooed.

He nodded against your palm again.

‘Gonna jerk off in my garage until I arrived home and ruined the moment?’

Driver stiffened, eyes wide as he considered you, awed at the way you understood how his mind worked. Against his better judgement, he nodded, slowly.

‘Filthy boy,’ you added with a playful smirk. ‘Glad you found me instead, though.’

‘Yeah?’ he managed, weak and quiet, voice cracking.

‘Yeah. I fucking love it when you try so hard not to cum right away.’

His brow furrowed, but you hooked your fingers under his chin and lifted his gaze back to you, softly pressing your lips to his once again.

He whimpered, feeling weak, but he needed this more than anything after the rush. He was crashing, fast and needed comfort. Safety.

‘Wanna get into bed and make out until we fall asleep?’

Driver’s heart skipped, and he nodded again. It wasn’t always a bad thing to feel like someone was reading his mind.

#not s f w 💀 #driver x reader #driver smut #drive 2011 #drive (2011) #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling #drive fic #driver x reader fic #drive smut #driver x you #driver x y/n #driver x reader smut #ryan gosling x y/n #ryan gosling x you #ryan gosling fic #ryan gosling smut #ken-dom writes

[sprout-fics]

Listen, I don’t know if you’re writing for König now— but I feel like the presence of two masked figures (König and Ghost) is just begging for some fics full of jealousy; Ghost doesn’t like someone flirting with his girl, and he especially doesn’t like someone with goofy ass drapes over their face trying to flirt with his girl either.

But— it’s just a thot. A Thursday thot.

I do not currently write for Konig! (Nor shall I start as of yet, bc I have wayyy too many unfinished projects and refuse to indulge in additional distractions) However, I can make time for a little Thursday Thots drabble for you, anon!

He's touching you again.

Ghost sees all, with his tar-dark stare, burning, scorching into your skin as Konig hovers beside you. The Austrian soldier's hand hovers over your shoulder, the touch hesitant, fleeting but there all the same.

It's a dangerous proximity, one that Ghost would normally tolerate from a lesser man. Usually his size, his dark, looming stature is enough to ward off any potential suitors towards you, chasing them away like an abraxas curse. They see his eyes, the way he clings to shadows and lures you there- keeping you safe.

Konig, however, seems to not see that silent rune, or has decided to foolishly ignore it. He hovers at your side, hip nearly bumping yours, one massive hand planted on his other side as he leans over the map, lit by the dusty Uzbekistan sun. He dwarfs you in comparison, and Ghost can't help the prickle of awareness that comes with the advantage the Austrian has in height, pure, rippling mass.

"AQ forces will be rendezvousing here for the pick-up." You declare, pointer finger stopping on part of the route below you. "There's not much cover for us aside from the poppy field nearby, we may need to..."

Granted, Ghost isn't paying much attention to you either. Not with the way he's so damn distracted by the hulking soldier beside you, the way he's not looking at the map at all. Konig's eyes linger on your face from under his hood, and at this angle Ghost can see the way they flicker over your scrunched brow, your twinkled, focused gaze.

It's almost adorable, the way you're so oblivious. You seem not to notice the men around you, not with the way Konig clings to your side like an affectionate, stray tomcat. Nor do you notice Ghost's eyes as he leans on a wall within the shadows of the rubbled building, gaze menacing like the sharp glint of a blade.

"What about here?" Konig asks, and his other hand follows yours, stopping to point out a ridge that is perfectly unsuitable for the purposes of this extraction. His voice slurs low over the vowels with his accent, and you seem to be so distracted by his query you fail to notice the way his hand secures on your shoulder as if to maintain his balance at your side.

No, instead you shake your head at his question, humming a low, displeased note in your throat, ignorant to the Austrian's hand across your opposite shoulder, placed firmly against your form.

"No, we could make it happen if we had an additional sniper, but considering it's just the three of us-" You pause, sucking your lower lip between your teeth, fingers tapping the aged wooden table you're braced on. "Then again, I could do it, set up a spot and provide suppressing fire while you two-"

"We aren't leaving you behind, Maus." Konig rumbles, and his voice is deeper now, spoken in a tone just for you.

You blink, turn then, and seem to at last notice just how close he is, staring up into his gentled eyes hidden underneath the mask.

That's it.

"A word, sergeant." Ghost growls, and your eyes dart to him, wide and caught off-guard. There's a flicker of awareness there, one summoned by the recognition of his tone- dark, low like thunder. A warning.

"Konig." You say slowly, eyes not leaving Ghost, as if tracing a wolf in the woods. "A moment, please?"

"Of course, Frauliene."

At last, he steps away from you, practically having to peel himself away from your side. When he strides towards the entrance, broken glass shatters under his massive feet. He pauses there, casting a lingering glance to you, then to Ghost- only to see the poisoned, dripping stare levied at him.

Strangely, he holds it for a moment, refusing to look away. Yet just as ire simmers higher in Simon's blood he turns, vanishes beyond the boundary of the doorway.

It's only then that you turn to Ghost.

"Care to explain what that was ab-oof!"

It takes Ghost two short strides to close the distance between you, reaching out a single, black gloved hand to drag you forward, into his front. It's a gesture he normally wouldn't indulge in, this blatantly outward display of his affections. Yet the prickle of something that feels shamefully like envy itches under his skin, chafes at his bones until there's a rawness there, an itch to have you closer.

"Simo-" You try, face muffled into his vest.

"He can't have you." Ghost murmurs darkly, a thumb digging into the soft part of your skull at your nape. You whine on instinct, the sensation grounding, possessive in a way that leaves you reeling. For a moment your hands flutter at your sides before lifting, gripping at his sleeves rolled at his elbows. Ghost only drags you closer, tilting his head downward into your hair, where he grows a promising affirmation, his words the boundary of that abraxas that keeps you to him.

"You are mine."

#cod #mw2 #mw 2 #simon ghost riley #cod konig #reader insert #drabble #my writing #Thursday Night Thots #Possessive Ghost >>>

[truth-bound]

To the new players on Splatoon 3!

For any battle type:

Always remember to booyah back! this means at the start of the round when a player on your team presses booyah, say booyah too! it lets old players know youre communicative and pay attention to your teammates. Its friendly. Its polite. Its honestly gonna make the whole game more enjoyable if you can use the little bit of communication there is.

theres no in game chat function so booyah and this way are the best way to let your team know what's up! booyah when your teammate did something cool! its a morale booster

plan your specials around your teammates. is your special better for support or slaying? check to see if there is already a cooler up if u have it, cus the effects do not stack. and in salmon run specials can be what saves the whole team!!

check your map! not only does it show the current ink coverage, it also shows enemy players if they have taken damage even without being marked. you can jump back to spawn if things seem dangerous and you can jump to teammates. keep in mind that teammates might not be in a safe position for you to land in. anyone can see where you will land and can try to jump kill you. knowing the map itself for good jump points and seeing if the teammate is in a well inked area helps.

Ink spawn. Always. Dont think it applies to X mode? It does. Even in anarchy battles (which splat 2 players might still call ranked out of habit) you should ink spawn. Why? multiple reasons! It keeps your base safer than not. helps maneuverability in getting back in. It helps build your special, which can be incredibly useful for a push. generally speaking, an inked base is a happy base. EDIT: I dont mean ink spawn immediately for anarchy battle, the first push is critical! Use the spawn for free specials to push when you're behind! And dont be thorough in anarchy battle either, prioritize the objective over turf inked unless you have a very good reason otherwise. the movement is also more for a path back to spawn than anything. having escape routes is important.

For turf war:

Inking ground takes priority over killing. Yes if they are dead they cant ink but the respawn time is pretty fast, about 5 to 7 seconds. Also, inking builds special. it is the only way you build special. kills do not build your special. Inked ground both gives a tiny amount of damage to the enemy when they step on it, AND gives you more coverage, AND gives you quicker escape options, AND is the deciding factor of winning the game.

Walls do not count towards points. Only ground. Inking walls isnt useless though, but don't think that inking them all will help you win, its more for maneuverability.

Last second bombs can decide a match. If you have a sub to throw and there is roughly one or two seconds left on the clock, throw it no hesitation. after the match time is over, it will still pause for a second to allow all subs and specials that were out at the last second to explode.

Hide in ink. This should be self explanatory. You aren't as visible if you are submerged in ink and you are faster in ink than walking. if you hide while an enemy player is nearby, and they dont think to check whatever puddle youre in, you could get a sneak attack. another point to focus on inking!

For salmon run:

Learn to squid party! its just jumping and changing in and out of squid to inkling (or octopus to octoling) form very fast so u kinda look like a blob. it might be frowned upon to squid party in other modes but this is totally fine and encouraged!

Pay attention to your teammates positions. Dead teammates cannot help more than sit there and hold a single egg. throw a bomb or shoot at them to revive them. they take priority over eggs in most cases.

Use this way liberally. This way points towards where youre looking. Use it to say hey theres a boss here.

LISTEN TO TEAMMATES. if someone says help or this way go to them. its worth it. they know what theyre doing. usually.

Losing on wave 3 doesnt lower pay grade. It sucks to lose but wave 3 sucks slightly less to lose on.

thats all for now! have fun and i hope you enjoy my favorite game series of all time ever. woomy!

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #inkling #octoling #splat3n

[marvelmusing]

Heart’s Desire

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Corporalki!Reader

Summary: During a journey along the southern border, the General inhales pollen from a mysterious plant, and you seek to ease his discomfort.

Warnings [18+]: smut, unprotected sex, sex pollen (so technically dub-con but they both consent), intentional orgasm denial, lots of made up Corporalki stuff for smut purposes

My Masterlist

“General Kirigan?”

You can hear his heart rate spike at the sound of your voice, more so than it usually does. From inside the tent his voice sounds hoarse as he calls out your name in questioning.

“Can I come in, sir?”

There’s a long pause, and your own heart hammers in your chest as you wait. You hope that he won’t dismiss you, you can hardly bear the thought of him struggling through this alone. Straining your ears, you hear him sigh before he relents,

“Yes, come in.”

Pushing the heavy black tent flap away from your body, you step forwards, and walk into his private tent.

His kefta has been discarded, tossed onto a chair carelessly. His boots are lying haphazardly on the rug near his bed.

Then your eyes land on the man himself. He’s sitting in front of the war table in the centre of his tent. The candlelight reflects the soft shimmer of sweat that glosses over his skin. His shirt has been almost fully unbuttoned and the cream fabric hangs loose over his chest. When his darkened eyes meet yours, the sound of his heartbeat leaps in your head.

His eyes drop down, roaming over your form, before he snaps them shut. His fists are clenched tight, his knuckles white from the strain.

“The pollen you inhaled; it was from the Concitatio Concitationis plant.”

The plant isn’t native to Ravka, you had been surprised to see it on your journey. The General had mentioned that the route he had planned would briefly take you over the border in Shu Han, but you had expected danger to come from enemy soldiers - not plants. Certainly not a plant that increases sexual arousal to the point of pain.

He nods, his jaw tense as he avoids looking in your direction. His restraint is impressive. You’ve heard of people being driven to madness, pouncing on anyone who could help them through the symptoms. But the General seems determined to suffer through this alone.

“I can help you with the symptoms.”

His head jerks harshly, his eyes widening with surprise as he searches your expression. Your cheeks flush and you stammer to explain yourself.

“I mean, I’m both a Healer and a Heartrender. If anyone can help you, it would be me.”

He grits his teeth, shaking his head, struggling with each word as a bead of sweat rolls down along the line of his throat towards his chest.

“The symptoms last for twenty-four hours. I couldn’t subject you to suppressing them for that long.”

“And I can’t leave you to suffer for that long.”

He sighs as his eyes flutter closed again. His shoulders tense as you step closer.

“Please, just let me try,” you plead softly. He holds your gaze for a long moment. Then he nods with a small sigh.

You shrug your own kefta off, bright red with a mixture of black and grey embroidery, and place it on the table.

Sitting down on the edge of the table, near the General, you concentrate on the aphrodisiac in his blood. You slow his heart down to a more relaxed state and begin to draw the pollen from the plant out of his system.

Some clarity returns to his features, and a thrill runs through you at your success. Glancing down at the map you almost sat on, you decide to put his mind on something other than the sensations flooding his body.

“Is this the rest of our journey?”

He nods, fingers trailing over the details of the mountains inked onto the pages.

“I had hoped to reach Caryeva by tomorrow afternoon. Instead, we’ll make camp here until the symptoms pass.”

He seems reluctant to stop your journey for his sake, and you hasten to ease his mind. Reaching out carefully, you brush a strand of hair away from his forehead.

“The men are eager for a rest, and we have the resources for another day of travelling.”

His head tilts aside as he watches you, which shakes you out of whatever had possessed you to do such a thing. The corner of his mouth quirks as he observes the flash of embarrassment in your eyes, and you turn your concentration back onto the task at hand.

You’ve always been a particularly strong Corporalki. It was why the General had allowed you to master both Heartrendering and Healing. It had made you one of his most powerful, and trusted, soldiers.

From an early age, you had learnt to suppress the feeling of people’s bodies around you. Whether they were hungry, or tired, or needed the bathroom. Sometimes your control slipped, but it was only a minor awareness of people’s bodily needs.

But feeling the General’s arousal is almost too much. To sense the blood rushing down between his legs, to see how hard he is, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of his trousers. Not only does your heart ache to ease his discomfort, but other parts of you are eager to satisfy him.

“I may have miscalculated this,” you admit as a warm flush rushes through your body.

“How so?”

You grit your teeth as your core begins to throb with the desperate urge to be filled, and you can’t help but stare at him. The General has always been so handsome, with his dark eyes and rich, thick hair. The prickle of his stubble would feel incredible against your thighs, almost as incredible as his lips would feel against your dripping cunt.

You swallow hard as you realise where your thoughts have taken you, and hurry to explain your situation.

“I haven’t been easing the effects, I’m sharing them with you.”

He stills, eyes meeting yours carefully. You can’t read the emotions and thoughts swirling in his dark eyes as he processes what you’ve told him.

“Come here,” he commands, and before you can formulate a response, his hands are tugging at your body. He pulls you flush into his lap, and a soft moan falls from your lips before you can stop it. His body is warm and solid against yours and you can feel every inch of him.

You can sense the blood pounding around his body, heavy with the aphrodisiac, and you can feel it flooding down between his legs where his cock stands hard and thick. The heat of it presses against your core, and your hips slide forward eagerly.

His hands grip your hips hard, and you whine petulantly when his hold prevents you from moving. Even in such a state, weakened with arousal, he’s so much stronger than you.

He cups your face carefully, bringing your eyes to his. His voice is almost a whisper as he demands,

“Give it back.”

You shake your head.

“No.” He huffs and sweat beads down your forehead. You shiver as you feel more sweat run down your back. “I won’t let you fight this alone.”

He says your name sternly, and you shudder in his arms, fingers curling tight into the loose fabric of his shirt. It’s been so long since he’s said your name - it’s always your rank, or your surname. He sighs heavily, before he whispers your name, almost softly.

“Give it back to me. I can take it.”

You whimper, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, but you’re not changing your mind. In all honesty, you’re not sure if you’re capable of removing the aphrodisiac from your own blood.

“No.”

His grip tightens on you.

“If you don’t, I may- no I will.” He groans, words failing him as images of what he wants to do fill both of your minds. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You’re not. You won’t,” you insist, breathing heavily as you cling to him. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.” You pause for a moment before you add quietly, “And I think you have too.”

He breathes out a small laugh, and your brows furrow in confusion.

“You think?” His grin is almost boyish, and your heart flips at the sight. “You mean you haven’t noticed my heart pounding every time you enter the room?”

“I-” You struggle to think of a response, because of course you had noticed. “I didn’t want to pry.”

Amusement sparkles in his eyes, and you ache with need. He looks so normal, so attainable. Not like the fierce General that you’ve followed and protected for several years. In that moment, you both come to an agreement.

He brushes his nose softly against yours, but his grip is still firm on your waist, keeping you pressed against his bulge. He’s fighting the effects of the pollen, in an attempt at being gentle with you.

“I wanted this to be different,” he admits breathlessly as you unbutton his trousers. You nod, your eyes hazy with desire as he tugs your shirt off.

“So did I.”

He groans when his cock is finally free from the confines of his underwear and trousers, and you swallow a moan at the sight of him. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, breathing out sharply, and gripping the arms of his chair. The wood creaks between his fingers.

Pushing up onto your knees, you tug your own trousers and panties down, revealing your slick coated thighs and your sopping cunt. When you look up, his eyes are closed tightly.

“General?” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Aleksander.” Your eyes widen at the sound of his name.

You both know how intense the symptoms are, and that the true frenzy hasn’t hit either of you yet. Aleksander’s jaw is tight with tension, he’s still fighting his instincts, and with the concern in his eyes you know he’s afraid of hurting you.

Sliding your palm up over his chest, you can feel his heart pounding under your touch, a familiar beat inside your head. He’s thinking far too much and will only continue torturing himself if he doesn’t stop.

“Kiss me, please.”

There’s an edge of desperation in your voice which prompts him into opening his eyes. Seeing you, almost completely naked in his lap, has him choking on a moan.

Then his lips are on yours without hesitation. The force of it nearly has you falling from his lap, but his arms curl around you quickly. One hand grasped onto your hip, the other settled on the small of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, tugging on the dark locks as his mouth moves against yours.

Your bodies work in tandem, grinding against one another as you kiss furiously. The hand at your hip drops lower, fingertips brushing between your soaked folds, and you whine at the sudden attention. He slides his finger inside you in one smooth motion.

With each moan and whimper from your lips, Aleksander ensures the sound is muffled by his mouth and you’re panting every time your lips separate. He curls his finger inside you, and you squeal, your toes curling in pleasure.

“Aleksander.”

You whine, and he pushes another finger inside you. The control over your power has slipped completely. Not only can you feel every inch of Aleksander’s fingers driving into your wet heat, but you can feel the throb of his aching cock, desperate to fill you to the brim. The frustration he’s feeling claws at you.

It’s too much, and not nearly enough. He stretches you open with his fingers, groaning at the feeling of your cunt clenching around his long digits.

In the very back of your mind, you appreciate him having the forethought to ease you open. As soon as you had opened his trousers, you had thought of nothing but having him inside you. Even on the brink of sexual frenzy, Aleksander is conscious of your comfort. Meanwhile all you want is for him to fuck you against his war table.

“Ready, lapushka?” he asks, his voice almost wrecked with arousal. The pet name flies completely over your head, but something in your chest tingles with a pleasant buzz. You nod.

“Yes Aleksander, please.”

Lifting your hips, Aleksander soon guides you onto his cock, and the two of you moan loudly as you finally get what you need. He rolls his hips once he’s fully seated inside you, which pulls a gasp from your lips as the head of his cock brushes against your most sensitive area.

You try to match the slow thrust of his hips, but soon the pleasure overwhelms you, and all you can manage is a weak buck of your hips. His lips trail over your collarbones, and up the curve of your throat. Aleksander groans, gripping onto your hips and jerking your body up and down on his cock.

He’s certainly deep enough inside you, but the angle isn’t right. Aleksander lifts you up, and you whine when his cock slides out of you. You’ve barely had enough time to register that you’re sitting back on the war table, before Aleksander is thrusting into you.

You choke on a gasp, nails digging into the fabric of his open shirt, the only leverage you are allowed as your legs dangle over the edge of the table.

It’s likely there will be bruises along your waist in the shape of Aleksander’s fingertips, and a thrill runs through your lust-addled mind at the thought of wearing his marks. The metal of his ring digs into your flushed skin, and the coolness of the material sends a shiver over your entire body.

“I’m close,” he warns you, and you manage to wrap one of your legs around his waist, driving him deeper into you.

“Please,” you plead, wanting him to finish inside you. He shakes his head slightly, as if he doesn’t want to climax so soon.

His jaw tenses, and you can’t pull your eyes from his beautiful face. You know a climax will help to break the frenzy, and you can sense him getting closer to the precipice, his pleasure tingling under your own skin.

“Can you hold it off for me?” he asks quickly.

A sound of confusion leaves your lips, and your brows crease together as you frown. Why would he want you to delay his pleasure? In an instant, he’s answering your unspoken question.

“We’ll finish together.”

He thumbs over your clit, and you clench hard around his cock. Clinging to the hairs at the back of his neck, you concentrate on the sensations in Aleksander’s cock, holding onto his pleasure as your own begins to peak.

He groans, and you know he can feel you lengthening the approach to his orgasm. You chant his name, over and over, as he continues to rub your clit, all while thrusting deep inside you.

Shadows pool over the floor, as the General’s own control over his power slips. The candlelight dims, and the shadows over his face lengthen, making his features even sharper.

“C-close,” you gasp, throwing your head back against the table. His forehead drops down, pressing hard against your collarbone. The invisible hold you have on both of your climax’s shatters, plunging the two of you into blissful euphoria.

Stars burst behind your eyelids, and you cry out, clenching around Aleksander’s cock, milking every drop of him as he spills inside you. He manages a few more weak thrusts, before he’s leaning down over your body as you attempt to catch your breath.

Such pleasure has gifted you both a moment of clarity, and you find Aleksander’s eyes immediately. Sweat clings to both of you, but the intense burning under your skin has eased. Reaching out, you brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, as he ghosts his thumb over your cheek.

He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips and your heart flips in symphony with Aleksander’s.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him. He rolls his hips slightly, a smirk quirking at the corner of his lips as he hears you inhale sharply.

“Better.”

Breathing out a small sigh, you nod in agreement as he pulls back slightly, and you moan when you fill his spend slip from inside you. Then he pushes back in, watching your expression carefully.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head quickly.

Already, you can feel his cock hardening inside you, and you surprise yourself when your hips roll to take him deeper without any prior thought.

Aleksander breathes out a laugh.

“Perhaps we should continue in the bed?”

You laugh weakly, surveying the state of you both. One of your legs is free of your trousers, but the fabric is still tangled around the other leg. Tattered black material is all that remains of your panties. They must have been ripped, either by your thighs or Aleksander’s hands, at some unknown point. Aleksander’s own trousers have slid down to his ankles. His shirt is half off his shoulders, and the front of it has been torn by your nails.

It will be several more hours before the pollen will have been completely removed from your systems.

You smile is wide as you concede,

“That might be a good idea.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @rachlovesactors​

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling x you #the darkling smut #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

[vampireapple]

Human Navigators

The human navigation crew shares one (1) brain cell, and its usually left in the locker.

.  .  .  .

“You are so wrong, James.”

“Shut up, Steve, this is absolutely the right way!”

“Are you flipping blind? This away is clearly superior!”

“No, you’re just being stupid!”

The captain stood behind his two navigators, waiting for them to notice him. They did not, too engrossed in their squabble. “Athem.”

Both men jumped to their feet and stood at attention. “Sir!”

“Would either of you mind telling me what is going on?”

“James thinks-”

“-which is wrong-”

“-would take waaay too-”

“-frankly just circles-”

“Stop!”

Both men jumped.

“What are you arguing about?”

The humans pointed at each other. “He wants to go the wrong way.”

“… why can’t you use the ship’s navigation system?”

The captain jumped when both humans glared at him. Subordinates should not be glaring at their captain, he thought weakly. Human glares were scary.

Steve spoke first. “We don’t need the Nav.”

“We’ll figure it out, sir, don’t worry,” James said.

The captain stared at them. “But, the navigational syst-”

“Its garbage,” Steve retorted.

“We know a better way,” James assured.

“We’re just disagreeing on which way.”

The two started to bicker again.

“Just make sure arrive at port in time,” the captain desperately tried to interject.

The humans assured him they would, before dissolving into petty insults.

The ship did arrive at the correct space station, right on time.

.  .  .  .

“Russ, the navigation system says to stay on this road!”

“I know a short cut!”

“NO!”

“Uh, yeah, I totally know a short cut.”

“No short cuts!”

“What? Why?”

“The last ‘short cut’ you took only saved us two minutes and you nearly bottom out the vehicle! And-”

“Worth it-”

“-the time before that you blew out a tire and we arrived five minutes late-”

“If the tire hadn’t-”

“-and the time before that you saw that creepy roadside stand and got food poisoning!”

“What’s your point?”

“No short cuts!”

“Aw, c’mon, its an adventure!”

“I don’t like adventure! I like predicable and dependable!”

“Dude, this is Earth. Adventure is practically a law.”

“Its not, I researched all laws-”

THUNK

“Oops, you okay buddy? Didn’t realize that pothole was so deep. Hope you didn’t hit your head too hard.”

“…I want to go home.”

“‘Go big or go home!’ That’s the spirit!”

crying

.  .  .  .

Ker glared at the traffic jam as if he could make it move through sheer force of will. His antennas twitched as he fought the urge to glare at his human companion. “If the navigation system had been activated, we would not been able to avoid this.”

Jack tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, seeming not overly bothered. “I know where I’m going. Why do I need the GPS?”

“To avoid situations like this!”

“Eh, we can get off at the next exit, and it’ll be fine.”

“We haven’t moved in seven minutes and the exit is 1.5 miles away!”

“Aw, buddy, it’ll be okay! I know what will cheer you up! Let’s listen to my favorite album from this great comedian-”

.  .  .  .

The first mate received a notification that the ship’s navigation system had been turned off. Concerned, she went to the navigation area of the command deck. “Lt. Chrispian, the navigation system has been turned off.”

Chrispian looked up at her and nodded. “Yes ma’am. I turned it off.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Its wrong.”

The first mate blinked, thrown off. “It malfunctioned? Have you put in a work order?”

“Oh, no, no. Its not broken, its wrong.”

“… wrong?”

“Yes ma’am.” Chrispian pulled up a map on the screen. “See, it wants me to go that way, but that way is stupid, so we’re not doing that. Instead, we’re going this route. Much better.”

Much better. The ship’s navigation system was cutting edge, developed by some of the best minds in the universe, and this human thought his way was much better?

She left to raise her concerns with the captain.

His ears flicked back and his tail twitched. “Is this your first journey with a human navigator?”

“Yes sir.”

The captain signed. “Just… let Lt. Chrispian work. As illogical as it is… humans are just like that. Lt. Chrispian has a perfect record. Thus... allowances are made.” He took in the expression of his first mate and sighed again. “Trust me, it will be okay.”

“I trust you, Captain.”

That trust was not misplaced. The ship arrived a day early, and missed a meteor shower on the original route.

#humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are weird #aliens #humans are space oddities

[ninapi]

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Be Mine? ╝

Premise: Destiny can be a fickle thing. One little mistake while dialing a random shop opened a new door for his desolated heart; one he was more than eager to go into.

Word Count: 3985

Note: This is setup in the Kimetsu academy world, just so you know~✨

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Teaching history can get a bit tedious when your students aren’t as interested in the subject as they should be.

Rengoku was a wonderful teacher, loved by all his students, but their grades weren’t as high as he would like, causing the principal to show her concern, specially for the first years. They were lovely kids, always so cheerful, yet they weren’t the smartest or most dedicated around.

The finals were approaching and if they didn’t get at least a B in his test, they would end up failing, making Rengoku extremely anxious.

A great idea popped up in his head a random Wednesday while taking a shower, what if he held some sort of study session for the kids? It’s not like he would tell them exactly what would come out in the test, but he could guide them in the right direction and make sure they know what’s needed before it was too late.

The Kamado family lived on the same block he had his apartment in, so it was decided that weekend they would hold a study session in the Kamado household.

Browsing in his phone the night before, he found a picture of the very much hyped cake he’s been hearing everyone talk about lately, even in the teacher room it was a popular subject.

Since he was devoted to his beloved children, he decided to stop by said cake shop before the session, get some for the kids, that would for sure keep them motivated, they had a lot of studying to do, feeding their brain with highly sugary treats seemed like a good idea, even if a hyper Zenitsu sounded like a double edge sword.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maps aren’t for everyone.

He tried reading the cute artsy map on their website, but that brought him to an unknown side of his neighborhood, he even found a gym he didn’t know it existed with his morning adventure, yet the cake shop was nowhere to be seen.

He then tried looking for the address in his actual maps app, turns out he was walking in the complete opposite direction. But even following every step, it kept recalculating the best route and he just didn’t know what to do with himself.

He happened to know Kocho sensei had been at the place a week before, so he tried dialing her and asking for directions, yet she was taken there by car and her boyfriend wasn’t picking up his phone, so she didn’t know how to help him.

He asked around the area, an old lady told him to turn right and walk for five minutes, then a guy walking his dog told him he didn’t have to turn right but left, so he had to go back to where he started, it was getting hot outside and he’d been walking for over an hour at this point, still cakeless.

That’s when it occurred to him that there must be a phone number somewhere in their website, he’d just give them a call, the workers should be able to give him directions, and if that failed, he would just take a taxi.

Finding the number was easier than he expected, making him innerly scold himself for not seeing it sooner, things could have been way easier if he had called in from the start.

Though, the sun was at it’s highest point by now and 8’s and 9’s look about the same to everyone in the morning sun.

A lovely voice could be heard on the other side of the line making him perk up, you sounded like a nice person, you should be able to help him, he was certain.

His overstimulated self didn’t even notice your lack of branding on the call, in all truth he should have noticed but he was just desperate.

“Hello?” you didn’t really answer unknown numbers, but you were waiting for a package and thought the post guy could have gotten lost as usual.

“Hi! My name is Rengoku Kyojuro, I’m trying to get to the shop so I can get one of those ice cream cakes, you know the fancy one that looks like a unicorn? My students have been raving about it for weeks now, but it appears I’m lost. To be honest I don’t know where I am, but I can see a fried chicken shop called “Suzy’s” and there’s a pretty bench with a line of trees on the other side of the street, do you perhaps know where I am and how I can get to the shop?”

You were so confused; you were positive this was the first time you’ve heard this man’s name in your life. Oddly enough, you did know the cake he was mentioning, you’ve been going to that cake shop since it opened a few years back and it ended up being your favorite place for sweets, you even got one of those unicorn cakes for you and your friends last week. And even more weird was the fact that your best friend worked at Suzy’s as a part time last summer, so you didn’t only know where he was, but also knew how to get to the cake shop from there. Even if you didn’t know the guy, you’ve been lost a couple of times in your life and wished someone could help you back then, a helping hand wouldn’t hurt, is not like you were busy at the moment.

“Oh you’re almost there, walk over to the bench. You see the side street behind the tree line?” he was following your instructions, a smile on his face as he finally saw the light.

“I see it yes, I also see a clothing store on the corner.”

“Yes! That’s it. Ok, just walk a bit further in the alley, the shop is pink and has a cupcake sign hanging from it’s door.” walking silently, he was taking in every shop while he heard you breathe on the other line, you sounded like a wonderful person, he was excited to meet you.

“I see it! Thank you so much! I’ll see you in a second!”

“Oh, I don’t work there! I just happened to know the shop you were looking for.” you chuckled awkwardly hoping the random stranger wouldn’t be weirded out by you. Not like the opinion of a random guy mattered to you, but somehow you wished he didn’t think you were weird.

His feet stopped on their own accord, disappointment painting his handsome features. He was so excited to meet the cute sounding girl in the other side of the line, now, that was a bummer.

“So you used your precious time to help a person in need just like that? I was right, you sounded like a wonderful woman.” for an unknown reason, your ears burned at the same time as your cheeks flushed bright pink, your free hand idly playing with a lock of your hair in a shyness display, good thing he wasn’t looking at you right now.

“I’m no such thing, just wanted to lend a hand to a very dedicated teacher. I wish my teachers were like that when I was in school.” giggling, you sat on the edge of your bed, holding a pillow to your chest.

“Hahaha yeah well my students are very special, wish you could meet them they are awesome kids, they deserve even more than an ice cream cake.”

“Hey that’s not just ‘any’ ice cream cake, ok? People lined up for hours just to get it when it came out.”

For some reason Rengoku kept smiling brightly, resting his back on the wall next to the shop’s door, yet not blocking the way out. “I know it’s a special cake don’t worry, that’s why I wanted to get it for them, so they could be motivated.”

“See? Gosh I wish I could go back in time and make you my teacher. All my teachers were old and strict, I almost got expelled once for going to school with red shoes, but they were so pretty I wanted my friends to see them.” why were you telling all this to a random stranger?

“That’s why I became a teacher, you know? I wanted the school experience to be more beneficial and overall, a good memory for the youth instead of nightmare material.” even more weird, why was he following the conversation through, wasn’t he supposed to buy the damn cake and hurry back? It was almost time for the kids to arrive.

“I’m sure your students will appreciate it. I don’t want you to be late on my account though, I’m glad I was able to help! Hope you enjoy the cake! It pairs fantastically with a strong coffee.” even if he was disappointed the call was getting shortened, he still couldn’t stop smiling, it was starting to hurt his face.

“Oh really? I’ll get a coffee for myself on the way then. Thanks for the recommendation and for being such a genuinely caring person. You’ve helped me a great deal today.” without much hesitation he finished the call once goodbyes were shared.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s been three hours since Rengoku arrived at the Kamado residence.

The kids were now taking a short break from studying, enjoying the treat their lovely teacher brought for them.

Tanjiro wanted a picture to commemorate the day, a little token of the promise of moving towards the next school year with his friends.

The picture ended up being super funny, Nezuko volunteered to take it so he would be able to join his students. It was very much a representation of who they were, Inosuke was chewing on Zenitsu’s ear after a piece of cake flew over there with his harsh way of eating, Zenitsu wailing in tears, Tanjiro had an apologetic smile on his face while Genya had a disgusted expression on his face, rage radiating from his body. Rengoku seating on the middle, holding his plate and smiling lovingly at his students.

Tanjiro sent the picture to everyone and promised to print copies later on, he really liked taking pictures and collecting the happy moments he spent with his friends and family.

This gave Rengoku a wild idea.

He just couldn’t get you out of his head, he wanted to keep talking to you but couldn’t find a valid reason to call you again, so seeing the picture being this funny, he decided to send it to you via text.

‘Made it safely to the little monsters. See? They’re special.’

Your screen lit up instantly, the notification startling you. It’s not like you saved his number, but you remembered the last four digits, you knew it was from him and it had an attachment.

At first it freaked you out, what if it was a bunch of nudes? Or what if he was some kind of psycho trying to lure you in.

But he sounded like a lovely man, it wouldn’t hurt opening the message, the worse it could happen would be seeing some dick, blocking someone is rather easy these days.

Thankfully the picture was nothing of the sort but the cutest thing you’ve seen that day. His fiery locks were a sight to behold, and the children did look like a handful but also seemed to get along very well.

‘I’m glad. I see you got the coffee too. Delicious, isn’t it?’

Your reply came in faster than he imagined, the kids were now discussing the Sengoku period and their bloody battles when his teacher beamed brightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement, his face didn’t match the descriptions given by the man terrifying his students just a tiny bit.

“Sensei, is the Demon King this amusing to you?” Zenitsu was quivering behind Tanjiro, the horrified tale was enough to frighten the poor boy but the look of amusement in his teacher’s face was even more scary as he described the kills with great details.

“I- no sorry, I just got a text and got distracted. Please read the battle on page 31 and write a comprehensive description on your own words, I will check it in half an hour.” groans could be heard from everywhere in the room, he felt sorry for his students, but he had something important to attend to.

‘It was fantastic, I almost felt bad for the kids that can’t drink it yet, it really enhanced the flavor.’

‘It does! You gotta try their donuts too, they’re delightful, especially the ones stuffed with cream cheese.’

‘Oh, you like cream cheese? I do too. I should go check them out, let me know when you’re stopping by the shop, I could buy you a cup of coffee as appreciation for all your help.’ the shop was a very transited place, and you were a regular there, seemed like a safe environment to meet a random stranger without getting killed.

Yet, it was still too early for that, he would have to work harder if he wanted to meet you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You two have been chatting non-stop for the last couple of weeks, turns out you had lots in common not just your love for sweets and coffee, but also your hobbies were similar, your plans for the future seemed to align, both wanted kids, a big house in a quiet neighborhood, a dog. Both wanted to travel before settling down, to see the world.

Talking with you was fun, it was the highlight of every day for Rengoku and a couple nights back he got the courage to video call you.

You were getting dressed for bed when he called you, freaking you out as your top was very much not on you just yet.

He thought you didn’t want to see him as you weren’t answering the call and he knew you were online, but you ended up accepting the call and showing him your bathroom ceiling while you finished getting dressed, causing a fit of chuckles to come out of him.

He was stunned by how beautiful you were, he was aware that you might not be his type, physically at least, but he was so interested in you in a not so friendly way by now that he just didn’t care, he had to see your face, he needed to put a face to that beautiful voice that keeps him awake at night, wanted to get lost in your eyes, but he didn’t expect you to be more than his type, you were a fine woman, lovely face, beautiful smile, definitely more than eye candy too as you were very smart and had a fantastic genuine personality.

The whole package.

Right now, he was sitting on his desk, grading some papers. Texts coming and going discussing the time for your meeting this afternoon. It would be the first time you’d both see each other in real life, and you were both just as excited as you were worried.

Kanae was staring at him from her own desk, a knowing smirk on her face. “Rengoku-kun, didn’t know you were dating~” this got Sanemi’s and Giyu’s attention. Nobody knew about this, not even his little brother did.

“Oh, ehm. I am not. Not yet at least.” his goofy grin couldn’t be contained, he was happy, finally going to meet his dream woman in person, but what if he chose the wrong shirt today? He tried them all out and went for the pale mint one he was currently wearing, a matching tie and a new pair of shoes, still a bit uncertain, maybe he should have gone for a relaxed fit, what if you didn’t like the professional look? There were still many things he didn’t know about you.

“Bullshit, why would he have a girlfriend when I don’t.” Sanemi was grumbling on the background, stretching on his own chair, displeased by the news.

“Well to start off, he isn’t a dickheaded asshole like you are.” Giyuu got up from his desk, glaring over at the very angry looking math teacher as he headed back to his class.

“Don’t listen to him Shinazugawa. You are a great man, I’m sure a lucky lady will appear sooner or later.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“So, are you meeting her later? I noticed you’re wearing new shoes.” this woman, she notices everything.

“I am, yes. We are having a coffee date, she wants me to try these famous donuts.” his smile was dripping honey, making Kanae return it with an adoring expression. She truly wants all her coworkers to find love the way she did, to be happy and have a bright future filled with love.

“Oh from the cake shop! I’ve had them before, they’re great. Treat her well, Kyo-chan. I wanna meet her already! Do you think she would want to come to my wedding? Here, give her an invitation, you can both come together! I’ll make sure she catches the flowers.” her giddy self made Rengoku chuckle as he tucked the little envelope in his bag.

“I will pass on the message, see you guys tomorrow, I had only morning classes today.” he got up, not before checking himself out in Kanae’s mirror a few too many times.

He was ready for this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were already waiting for him when he arrived at the shop, dressed beautifully, a true piece of art, that’s what you were.

He couldn’t contain his blush; with rosy cheeks and a wide smile he walked over to you with determination. “(Y/N)! Did you wait long? Sorry, there was traffic.”

“Kyojuro-san! I just got here myself, don’t worry.” his hand reached for yours almost as a reflex, yet you didn’t pull away making his smile grow even wider in realization, it wasn’t just him, you wanted this as much as he did.

He was taller and broader than you imagined, his cologne spicy and a little addictive.

The donuts were delicious as well as the coffee, but what made the day one to remember was the company.

You’ve never laughed this much in all your life, he just knew how to press your buttons for you to try things out of your comfort zone and was just so relaxing to be around him, not even a stressing day at work could have overpowered those feelings.

And he felt just that as well, all the nerves from the previous night and basically the entirety of his morning, were all forgotten. He was delighted by your company, your smile tasted even better than the donuts, he wanted to see that smile possibly until the end of times.

A weird thing life is.

He never expected to find someone so wonderful, let alone have that with someone he randomly met by dialing the wrong number.

Your first date went great, after your coffee break you walked along the riverbanks holding hands, enjoying the view of the sun hiding among the dark waters. Even if you weren’t doing anything particularly interesting it felt like you had just won the lottery. You both felt so comfortable with each other, it felt like he could just tell you anything and you would accept it, even forgive him if it was something bad. You were all he ever dreamed of having in a potential partner, besides brains and beauty you were funny, interesting, sensitive, understanding, he had to pinch himself a couple of times during the day just to confirm once more that he wasn’t dreaming.

“So I have this coworker, Shinazugawa, he’s a good guy but so prickly, I feel bad for him, I wish he would find a lovely lady like yourself one day, someone that could make him happy.” you let a fake gasp out, a horrified look on your face, “Are you trying to set him up with me, Kyojuro-san? I thought we….” panicking, he held both of your hands, his eyes trained on yours almost irradiating fire out of them, “Never! I was just thinking about how much of a wonderful day today was and I felt bad for a friend that’s all! I would never!” you let out a cute giggling sound, unable to hold your act. “Oh my God, were you joking? I almost hyperventilate, I thought I screwed everything up!” he was now laughing along with you, his fingers lacing through yours.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s ok, I actually like that about you. Everyone’s usually pretty serious around me, I know they treat me with respect, but I like how this feels, not having to keep up with the ‘perfect example’ a teacher must give at all times facade, being able to just be me, I didn’t know I needed this but seems like I do.” rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb, you smiled up at him, resting your head on his shoulder as you both enjoyed the last remaining rays of sunshine of the day.

“I like it too, I didn’t know I could laugh so much in just one day, my stomach got cramped and all.” chuckling, he rested his head on top of yours, the day was about to come to an end, and he wanted to savor it as much as possible.

“I’m glad you think that way, I’m also glad that you gave the strange man that filled your phone with random messages, a chance.”

“How could I not when he wasn’t just a fantastic person but also pretty cute?” he looked down at you in shock, he’s heard many things about himself throughout the years, but being called cute by someone as cute as yourself threw him spiraling into another dimension.

The way your eyes sparkled up at him, how your pretty lashes framed your eyes to perfection, how your soft looking lips called upon him like a moth to a light bulb, he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore, diving in to press his lips gently against yours while caging your face between his large hands. The kiss started out slowly, tentative, he wasn’t sure if you wanted this or not, but the eagerness behind your actions set a blaze the flames of his heart to its max. One of his hands slid down your body, resting first on your arm, then on your waist; his lips would leave the warmth of your own to travel down your neck, your jawline, your eyelids even, just to return to the safety of your lips every so often.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there bathing in each other’s passionate love, but by the time you were a panting, disheveled mess, the sun was very much asleep, the moon as high on the sky as it would be for the night, the stars twinkling above you, making the dream-like experience even more unreal.

“Is it like too soon to take you to my place?”

Laughing together you embarked in yet another new adventure, one where two end up being just one, where life lessons turn their profit, where emotional gain outweighed the stress of mundane life.

Rengoku Kyojuro now had a girlfriend, but not just any girlfriend, one he could see himself sharing the rest of his life with.

So next time, maybe pick up your phone even if you don’t recognize the number calling~

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Nina's side note: The red shoes story actually happened to me irl, we had strict uniform rules, just thought it would be fun to add it to the story lol.

Masterlist More to this series

#kny rengoku #fluff #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer hashira #demon slayer #demon slayer x you #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kimetsu academy

[infinitebrians]

Favorite Games of 2023 Part 4: Pseudoregalia

I knew Pseudoregalia was going to be good the minute I started the game and did the input for the Mario 64 side flip jump and the game’s main character Sybil did her own version of that satisfying jump. One of my all time favorite things to do in a Mario game (or any game) is that side flip, a jump that is as practical as it is just simply satisfying to do. Sybil being able to do that jump without needing any of the power ups found in the game told me that the developers of this game knew the importance to making character feel good jumping around in a 3D world. Her movement only gets better from there with a bunch of new platforming abilities that makes her capable of getting what feels like anywhere in that game world if desired. The pure control you have over Sybil's platforming capabilities gave me so many great moments of pure curiosity to experiment with what could work. What's better is watching friends and others play the game and figure out their own solutions to the game's open ended platforming design. There are no wrong answers in the world of Pseudoregalia, just results.

This game was a complete surprise in just about every way, just the best feeling platformer I’ve played in a long while in this small, cleaned up former game jam game. I’ve followed the main dev rittzler on twitter for a few years because the gameplay clips of their work have all looked fun and impressive and they always shared other really cool indie dev work as well. So, I was excited to finally play Pseudoregalia when it was announced to be released. It's super low price (6 dollars USD) and being something I was able to finish in the span of one day alone was a huge breath of fresh air in this current gaming environment. It’s something I’ve been personally thinking a lot about recently is the appeal of a simpler, lower priced game. It’s appeal to me coming from playing something that never needs to be some sort of omnipresent, super game. Instead, Pseudoregalia presents itself in a humble statement of, ‘here, enjoy a few hours jumping around this wacky maze like castle as a goat bunny lady!’.

I'm not a person who typically ever has a desire to replay a game right after finishing it, I usually prefer to immediately move on to another game that I've been wishing to play for for a while. Pseudoregalia is a game I've played four or so times now from start to finish, I even started another playthrough in preparation for this drawing/writing and found myself wanting to play it all the way through again. Its the first time I found myself actually physically seeing the appeal of speedrunning, a hobby I always just enjoyed as a spectator. Pseudoregalia just lends itself so neatly to that part of me that loves routing out a path for stuff. How quickly can you find all the vital movement abilities for Sybil? What's unnecessary, what can be improved, what can be gathered while on the path of gathering something else. From at least my perspective of not actually investigating the proper speedrunner's routing, the options feel immense. From these handful of times replaying the game I've gotten a good handle of finding my way around the map and a good idea of how to get a lot of the really important movement abilities almost immediately. It also made the game feel quite different from how it felt to me with my first playthrough, what was once mysterious and labyrinthine was now a familiar playground.

That is one thing I will miss when doing those repeat playthroughs is that sense of discovery that occurred with that initial run. Soon before Pseudoregalia came out, I watched a lot of Videochess and spaghoner's exploration and documentation of the incredible Mario 64 hack, B3313 ( https://youtu.be/pLKB0SG0i8c ). I found that hack incredible at creating a sense of uneasiness and wonder from simply keeping you constantly guessing what was next behind each door something even those two expressed while streaming. During my first playthrough of Pseudoregalia, I was completely lost in that castle and was constantly finding paths that led to new zones or ones circled me back to old ones from hours ago. It was a pretty incredible feeling of discovery that only wore out it's welcome at the end when I just needed one more big key necessary for progression. What helped make exploration in both of these games engaging the whole time is that aspect of having a really fun character to move around as while being lost. It was okay with being completely lost because I could still just keep doing these long jumps into wall kicks that just make Sybil go fuckin' fast in an immensely satisfying way.

I think in the time it's taken me to think about this game again, and briefly revisit it in preparation for this art/writing I've come to decide that this is probably my favorite new game of 2023. In a year full of fantastic platformers to pick from, this one was just a class above in terms of movement design and movement application.

#drawdogs #art #pixel art #favorite games of 2023 #writing #pseudoregalia #sybil pseudoregalia

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 5

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, cheating, more dark elements to come.

This one is a bit longer.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Colin leaves for the conference. Things are fragile. You sleep in the bed but feel a world away from the man next to you. Even when he tries, even when he holds you, you feel the rent between you. The fears you’re too afraid to say. What you know you should but can’t. Because you’re a coward, because you’re weak.

You kiss him goodbye and get ready for work. The house feels emptier than ever, the day longer, everything ahead of you bleaker. You lock up and go about your usual route. The prospect of coming home to a lonely night makes the day stretch on.

Work slogs by. You drop your bucket of supplies in the trunk and yawn at the gray sky. There’s a bottle of wine buried somewhere under the sink. You could take that out and choke it down. It’s not even three but who cares? You don’t want to think of Colin and his ‘business’ with his ex.

As you open the driver’s door, you stop. A shape resting against the wiper draws you to the hood. The white watch box sits against your windshield. You look around at the pedestrians passing by and the line of cars parked ahead and behind your car. You take it and retreat to the steering wheel.

You pull shut the door and flick the locks. Your hands shake and you swallow as you open the box. Nothing. The watch is gone. Another trick. Another taunt. There’s only a piece of paper folded up against the lid. You slide it out and unfold in with a grimace at the tight, slanted letters.

‘Garneau’s, Daddy’s treat.’

You roll your eyes and throw the box and letter into the passenger’s side to bounce against your purse. This fucking jerk. It’s your watch! Why wouldn’t he just give it back? He boasted how he could afford half the shop so why wouldn’t he give you your low-grade luxury?

You start the car and edge out of the spot into traffic. You impatiently putter along with the snailish flow and idle at the light. You flip your blinker and redirect. You’re getting the watch back. If this asshole wants to play, you’ll play. You’re done with it.

You veer off and get lost up town. You pull over to search Google maps and head back down the way you came. Garneau’s. Some upscale organic cafe that doesn’t seem to serve anything but juiced bullshit. You feed the meter and growl up at the marquee, your eyes falling to the wall of windows beneath.

You see him. He’s at one of the tall tables, perched sideways as he leans against the wall. White pants, blue polo patterned with gold, and high collar jacket over his ridiculous Ivy league pretense. You resign yourself to the confrontation and go to the door. Or what you think is the door.

You hit the window and cringe. You back away and grab the handle along the next pane. You’ve got his attention now. You enter and push your shoulders back as you march up to him. He smooths his mustache with his index and thumb and he hooks his leather boots in the crossbar, his knees wide as he watches you.

“Ah, come to daddy,” he calls to you.

“Shut up and give me the watch,” you demand, “now.”

“Well, I can’t say I expected class but you could at least say hello.”

“Watch, now,” you snap your fingers.

He chuckles and bites the tip of his thumb as he plants his elbow on the edge of the table. He sits straight and shakes his head.

“That’s not the deal.”

“It’s mine. I paid for it–”

“Finders keepers,” he smirks.

“Please, just–”

“'Please, Lloyd, be a good daddy and give it to me',” he says in a high pitch, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be hearing lots of that, baby.”

“Ew,” you scrunch your nose, “what the fuck is wrong with you? Who even are you–”

“Why don’t you sit and have a juice and we can… explore that further?”

“I’m not interested in watered asparagus. Or you.” You push your hand in his face, “I’m married and I have better things–”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure going home to that empty house as your husband fucks off with his boss is quite the event for you,” he mocks as he rubs his thigh. You bite down and sneer at him, how would he know that? “Let’s just say, I know people in high places. So sit down and smile.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Oh, I am,” he nods as his grin curves deeper, “I won’t deny that but it doesn’t mean I don’t know every fucking thing about you, sweetie. And that deadbeat you can’t get hard.”

“Shut the fuck up–”

“Watch that mouth,” he points at you, “I was planning on being nice so don’t push it.”

“If it gets me the watch back, what’s mine, fine,” you huff and climb up onto the stool. It wobbles beneath you and you grasp the table for balance.

He turns on his seat and watches you. You stare at the transparent table and wiggle your foot as you cross it behind your other. He takes the slim white table propped up in an equally modern stand. He drags his fingers across the screen.

“Place is pretty nice, just gotta put in your order,” he looks up over the iPad, “you like dragonfruit? Hmm, wait, that’s quite a bit of sugar…”

“Stop,” you look up at him beneath your lashes, “I get it.”

“Kale and apple, bit of sweetness…”

“I’ll take water.”

“Hey, I’m tryna generous and I think you should appreciate that. I can be pretty damn generous if you give me a chance,” he warns as he lets the tablet sit flat in his hands, “you just gotta loosen up but I can help with that too.”

You look at the wall and shake your head. You cross your arms and wait as he continues to poke through the electronic menu. Finally, he returns the tablet to its place and the table shifts as he readjusts his posture.

“So, do you know about the ex or–”

“How the fuck do you know?” You challenge.

“Oh, dolly, that mouth. You were so quiet when we met, what happened? You not getting any? I wouldn’t be surprised, he’s got that skinny blonde thing hanging around. I’m sure he has her leaning over his desk, her blouse cute just white that he gets a good eyeful of those pert tits,” his gaze falls to the front of your stained uniform, exposed between the open zipper of your jacket, “personally, I like a bit of extra… jiggle.”

You inhale, holding your words with your breath. You rub your cheek in exasperation.

“He’s not cheating.”

“You sure?”

You seal your lips. It doesn’t matter. You’re not arguing with him about your husband. What are you even doing there with another man? A man who openly despises you.

“Hard day?”

You squint and shrug. Your hands smell like rubber gloves and your sweat dampens the hair at the nape of your neck. You pick your nail as you refuse to encourage him further.

A waitress arrives with two tall glasses with metal straws and places them on the ceramic coasters. He thanks her with a wink and you bite your tongue.

“Look, I might be an asshole but I’m honest about it. That husband of yours, he’s the worst kind. He can never admit the kinda sleaze he is. And what does he have to show for it? Not damn much. But me, I got a whole fucking empire–”

“So why are you here? Why are you bugging me? Just gimme the damn–

“Drink the fucking juice,” he interjects harshly, “I don’t like my kindness thrown back in my face.”

You ball your fists until your fingers crack. Cautiously, you slid the glass towards you and sip the tangy juice. It’s nothing special but you can tell it has a hint of tomato and it leaves an earthy aftertaste. You try not to show your disgust.

“Thanks for the juice,” you say dryly “you’re so kind. How could I ever repay you?”

He laughs and slaps his leg, “you really are fun.”

Your leg shakes the stool as your anxiety has you twitching. You sit in stalemate, waiting. You want this to be over with. You want to get the watch and go home and wallow in your pathetic existence. To hide behind your denial.

“Stubborn, though,” he remarks and takes a loud slurp, “what if I tell you I have proof?”

You frown.

“About the cuck, Connor or whatever?”

“Colin,” you correct him.

“Yeah, him.”

“What does it matter to you?”

“So, you don’t care? You’re okay with it? You do seem the type. You’re ass is wide enough to turn the other cheek–”

“Christ, you are so fucking annoying.”

“Here,” he reaches into his pants pocket as he leans forward on the stool, “look. I wouldn’t trust what I say either, in fact, sometimes I lose track of the truth but pictures don’t lie.”

He presses his thumb to the screen and swipes through before turning the cell to face you. He lays it down and sits back to suck on his straw. He watches you as you look at the screen. The image is taken between a set of blinds, the same from the office building.

Long blond hair falls in waves as large hands bury in the soft strands. Colin’s chin is tilted to the ceiling as he stands between Ali’s splayed legs, he ass bare beneath the crumpled skirt as she sits on his desk. There’s no mistaking what’s going on.

You touch your throat as your eyes sting. You wiggle your nose and dip your chin down. This man will not see you cry. You blink, lashes glossy.

“Well, now I know,” you utter, “can I please have the watch?”

He’s quiet. You keep your eyes down, staring through the table at his boots. You sense his movement as he reaches into his jacket. He sets down the silver watch.

“Thanks,” you scoop it up and hop off the stool, “go fucking rot.”

You spin on your heel and storm out. You don’t wait to see if he follows. You know he isn’t going to leave you alone. But you don’t care. You’re not worried about that moron.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #drabble series #the grey man #the gray man #au #unsolicited

[muffinlance]

Shaw reeeeally want to eat the earth kings bear. It’s so exotic and he’s never tried one before. Just a nibble, maybe a haunch, then he’ll know if it tastes like orca-bear or weasel-bear.

(Continued from parts one and two.)

Kuei is, in the understated words of one of his earliest tutors, feeling mildly out of his geological stratum. 

There was a war. There was a war for his entire life, for his father’s and his grandfather’s. He is only learning of it now, because it is over, and his signature is required on the official documents. 

(At least they didn’t just take his royal seal and stamp it themselves.)

The young king has many questions. Mostly about his own court, and which of his advisors are truly trustworthy.

(And which would find for him a less pleasant oubliette, if he tried to rattle his palace’s bars.)

“The Fire Lord will enter through the eastern doors,” an etiquette tutor he’s never seen before instructs him. “You will stand for him, but not bow. His dragons have been instructed to enter behind him, but in practice, will do as they please. Or as he has ordered them. They are an intimidation tactic; do not acknowledge them. The terms have already been agreed upon. Place your stamp where indicated. If he inclines his head, you may return the gesture…”

It would be a significant amount of information to remember, had it not sifted down to “your presence was not required before, and is only ceremonial now.”

Kuei stands when the Fire Lord enters. His fellow monarch is young, but so is Kuei. The boy comes flanked with his own cadre of old men. Perhaps this is just what it’s like, being a king. 

And then the dragons enter, which rather puts into perspective why this meeting is occuring in the grand ballroom, rather than a more usual diplomatic location. They are… very impressive specimens. The old men behind Kuei stiffen at the sight of them. The ones near the Fire Lord have to actively dodge, with a rumpling of robes and dignity alike, as the great serpents claim their place at the boy’s sides. 

And then they keep coming forward, coils of them thick around as particularly rotund badgermoles, and Kuei’s advisors follow the example set by their peers. Which is to say: Kuei is suddenly rather alone at the table, with two great heads crossing paths behind him. They pause like that, for a moment, before moving on. There is enough of them to wrap back around to their Fire Lord’s side, even as they remain looped behind Kuei. 

Yes. Yes, he could see why this would be an effective intimidation tactic.

The Fire Lord looks at the chair he’s been provided. Then down the length of the great table, to where Kuei would sit. There would have been servants to carry the papers between them, but… well. They are probably not going to risk scaling the dragon’s sides. The Fire Lord huffs, and walks to the chair to the left of Kuei’s, before setting down a pile of scrolls.

They let him carry important documents himself. That must be nice. 

“Have you had time to read the final draft?” the Fire Lord asks, his chair scraping against stone as he pulls it out. He sits, and looks to Kuei expectantly.

Do not speak to him, says the voice of the tutor in Kuei’s memory. He is the violent offspring of an upstart island; you are the rightful inheritor of a continent. You bow to him on paper only.

“I… have not,” Kuei admits, and takes his own seat. 

“Neither have I,” says the boy. “We should probably make sure the copies match, too. My advisors kept telling me not to worry about it, which is probably a reason to worry about it.”

So they unroll two copies of the finest calligraphy, and push their chairs close, and get down to reading. It is not an exaggeration to say that Kuei has spent his whole life practicing for this.

“This map cannot be accurate,” Kuei says.

“It… looks okay to me?”

“This is nearly two-thirds of our western fishing ports, nevermind the river transport routes, whose ‘tax rates and availability to outside use shall be at the discretion of the Fire Lord’?”

“That’s where my people live.”

“Then where did my people go?”

“Uh,” says the Fire Lord. Who is actually quite significantly younger than Kuei.

“...Did your advisors hand you papers to sign, too?”

“They said you’d already agreed.”

Kuei’s own advisors had implied they’d all be eaten by dragons should he refuse to sign, so. That was certainly a form of agreement. 

One of the Fire Lord’s very intimidating serpents has laid its great head down across most of their table, and appears to have fallen asleep. The other is… scenting the air? Well. That's mildly alarming. It coils its neck back, to the limit the high ceiling allows, and stares down at something outside its coils. 

Which is the point Kuei hears the whuffing of his bear cub. Which his advisors had very firmly told him could not be at this meeting, so little Bosco had been left in a garden with servants for attendants, but so many people are as afraid of a simple bear cub as they are of these great beasts of dragons, so it was no surprise he’d escaped to find the one person who really cared—

“Spit it out!” shouts the Fire Lord. “Spit it out!”

Kuei is not entirely certain how he ends up with his arms inside a dragon’s maw, his formal hairpiece being dripped upon by hot saliva fresh from a fang. But at least he's not the only monarch to be in such a state. 

The dragon’s great size is, in retrospect, a blessing: a little morsel like Bosco had not required chewing. The bear shakes in his arms, but Kuei’s combing through wet fur had not turned up a scratch upon him. 

“That is,” says the Fire Lord, looking up. And up further. Until he finds Bosco’s trembling muzzle, pressed against the top of Kuei’s head, “a really big… bear-otter?”

“He’s just a bear,” sniffles Kuei, hugging his poor baby back, if not quite so heartily as Bosco is hugging him. “A little cub. How could your dragon do such a thing?”

“Uh,” says the Fire Lord. “Shaw… apologizes?”

The dragon does not look at all apologetic. It's nuzzling the Fire Lord’s back, in a way Kuei himself recognizes from a hundred objects pulled from a baby bear’s inquisitive mouth. But father, can’t I eat it? Please?

“We,” Kuei says, his chin lifted haughtily, “are going to refresh ourselves in the royal chambers. You are welcome to the guest baths. And then we are going to sit down with a real map.” 

Not whatever fanciful one the Fire Lord’s advisors have concocted. 

“Fine,” the boy snaps back. 

When they meet again, an hour later, both are free of the sulfurous stench of dragon spit. And both have brought their own maps, of the Fire Nation’s current military occupation.

Kuei does not sign until his people have free access to their own resources again. If slightly less land than they began with. As he is not eaten by a dragon for his troubles, he sets his sights upon his advisors, next.

(Read more prompts || Longer ATLA fics || Original works)

#Bosco: vomits up a stomach full of half-digested fish in front of Shaw #Shaw: lightly toasts it and eats slightly more than half #Bosco: licks the rest off the charred floor #World Peace #So Beautiful #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #King Kuei #Ran and Shaw #Hello Dragons Here

[gingiesworld]

A Friend

Jane Banner x GN! Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Mentions of Rape/Death.

Word Count: 1.9k+

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

18+ MINORS DNI

It was no secret that Agent Y/L/N was hard on their team, they always were driven to solve any case thrown their way, but that made Jane hate them even more. She only knew a small amount about them, Y/N was never one to open up about their private life.

“So, we have a serial rapist on our hands.” Y/N informed them all as they handed their team a file. “This person has seven victims already.”

“Do you think it’s a copycat of the perp from 5 years ago?” One agent asked as Y/N pursed their lips.

“Maybe.” They answered them. “But we never really caught them from five years ago.” Jane watched as they tensed up slightly. “There is a possibility it is the same person.”

“So, what is the plan?” Jane questioned as she flicked through the file.

“We need to map out each victim’s last days, find out every location they have been and talk to everyone they have ever spoken to.” Y/N told them. “We will also need to talk to each of the families, get an idea of who the victim is because there may be a factor that has been overlooked.” They read out names of who would be teaming up and splitting the tasks accordingly. They approached Jane with an expressionless face. “Come on, we have work to do.” They told her before heading out of the briefing room, Jane rolled her eyes as she followed them to their car.

“So, where are we going?” She asked them as they started the car.

“Elle’s boyfriend.” They told her as they kept their eyes on the road. “She was the first victim and we need to know how she acted leading up to this.”

“Ok.” Jane mumbled as she kept looking over the files. She also had the files from the last investigation they had just been talking about, seeing a familiar name. Elizabeth Y/L/N, then she glanced at the ring that remained on their finger.

“Let me do the talking.” They told her as they shut off the engine before getting out of the car. Heading inside an auto shop. “Mr Brody? May we have a moment?” They asked as they flashed their badge.

“Yeah.” He nodded as he led the two of them through to the staff room. “Is this about Elle? Did you find the bastard?” He asked as Jane closed the door behind them.

“We haven’t yet, but we plan on finding him and not stopping until he is behind bars. For the rest of his life.” They informed him. “We just need to know if there was anything different about Elle leading up to her death?”

“No.” He whispered as he looked down. “It was just a normal week. She was coming home later than usual from her shift at the hospital.” He looked between the agents. “She called and apologised over and over again because she promised Sam that she would be back in time to read to him. There was nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Does she walk or drive to work?” They asked him as he shook his head.

“She walks to work.” He answered. “When she works long shifts, she doesn’t really want to drive in case of an accident.” Y/N nodded as they took down some notes.

“Would you be able to map out the route she walks to and from work.” They asked him. “It’s just so we can get the traffic cam footage from that night to see if there's anything out of the ordinary.”

“Do you think he followed her?” He asked them as Y/N sighed

“We can’t say for sure right now, but we need to cross off every possibility.” They told him. “But once we have our answers, we will let you know.” With that the two agents left the auto shop, ready to speak with the families of the other victims.

“How do you expect us to catch this person?” Jane asked them as they sighed before looking over at her.

“I know you are new to this department, but I have my ways of getting to the bottom of the cases I work on.” They told her.

“Or allowed to work on.” She murmured as Y/N pulled up, turning to face her, anger evident in their eyes. “I saw a name in the case files from five years ago. Elizabeth.”

“Don’t.” They snarled as she smirked. “I don’t owe you any explanation nor do I need to tell you about myself.” With that they got out of the car, Jane hot on their heels as they entered the building.

“I just don’t get it.” Jane said as she followed them into their office. “You weren’t allowed to work on the case five years ago for personal reasons, they never caught the guy and you’re allowed to work on a case that may be the same guy now.”

“Get out.” They told her firmly, neither paying attention to the small crowd outside of the office. “Get out of my office now.”

“I just need to know who I am working with. I am owed that much.” She told them as they chuckled.

“You really want to know?” They spoke angrily, Jane could see that she had hit a nerve. “My wife, the woman who I loved with all of me. She was pregnant when she died.” Jane started to feel bad. “Yeah. She was raped and murdered while she was carrying our child.” They stepped closer and she could see the years of grief and pain in their eyes. “So yes, I wasn’t allowed to work on the case because of personal issues.”

“Why is it different now?” Jane asked them.

“I have a 100% run on cases. Every case I have worked on, I have solved it.” They told her. “The agent who was in charge five years ago, he was getting old, ready for retirement. So he got lazy, and decided to just call it an unsolved case.” They took a shaky breath. “They failed my wife and child. They failed every victim before her, and I don’t intend to stop until he is behind bars and rotting.” She watched as they moved back behind their desk. “Now please leave. Ask Mouth about the traffic cams from the night Elle Brody was found, from the time she left the hospital.” Jane just nodded as she left, heading straight to the IT department.

Y/N sat with their head in their hands, the picture of their wife always remained on their desk, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped.

As the weeks went on, the team worked tirelessly as they narrowed down on suspects. Y/N’s eyes narrowed on to a familiar name, similar to the agent who led the case five years ago.

“What is it?” Jane questioned as everyone’s eyes were on Y/N and the director.

“Do we have an address for either of them?” Y/N asked their superior.

“We can get them.” He answered as Y/N nodded.

“We are going to need two separate teams.” Y/N said as they turned around to Mouth. “Get me their addresses and any place they may be hanging out.” They turned back to everyone. “Ok, I need a team to go for Horace, he is an ex agent. Retired around the time the old case was closed, marked as unsolved. So, we will need to be smart with him, and the others will go for Thomas. I want him more than Horace but I also want answers from him.”

“I think it’s best if you sit this one out.” Directeur Jameson told them.

“No.” They shook their head.

“Y/N, this is now personal to you.” He told them. “You have gotten this far. You got to the bottom of this case, now let me finish it.”

“But.” They tried as he looked at Jane.

“Please take them home.” He ordered her as she nodded, taking their arm as they didn't even fight. “I will make sure they both pay for this Y/N. I promise.”

“Keep me updated.” They told him as he nodded, they followed Jane out of the building and to her car.

“I need your address.” She told them, she listened as they directed her to their house. Pulling up in their driveway.

“Thank you.” They spoke quietly as Jane smiled slightly, watching as Y/N got out of the car, soon following them up the path. “You can go home Jane.”

“I am not leaving you on your own right now.” She told them. “You need a friend more than ever.” They sighed and allowed her inside, leading her to their kitchen.

“It’s nice here.” She told them as she accepted the drink from them.

“Elizabeth was the one who decorated here.” They told her. “She picked out everything when we first moved in together. That was almost 13 years ago.” They watched as Jane looked around. “I haven’t really had the heart to redecorate.”

“Everyone grieves in their own time.” She told them.

“You speak like you know.” They said as they led her through to the living room.

“Well, we have all lost someone close to us at one point.” She told them. “My best friend was mugged and stabbed when we were in high school.” She took a sip of her drink. “That is why I wanted to become an agent. I wanted to get to the bottom of the cases that no one else could.”

“You wanted to be someone that people can count on.” They nodded as she smiled. “I really liked solving problems, so I actually went to MIT to study engineering.”

“Then how did you?” She asked them as they chuckled.

“I guess I never wanted to just be an engineer, work in a lab or a workshop.” They told her honestly. “So I joined the academy. I know, it was a waste of my degree but I just wanted to do something that means more you know.” They told her before a smile formed on their face. “Then I met Elizabeth when I was sent to the ER. I was shot in the shoulder, I was kind of cocky when I was younger.” Jane laughed at their words. “I remember flirting with her, asking her out and she turned me down, but after multiple trips to the ER, I finally wore her down.”

“So she felt pity on you?” Jane teased as Y/N laughed with a nod.

“She did.” They took a deep breath. “It only started as a cocky ego trip but I couldn’t picture my life without her by my side. That’s why it broke me when she was taken from me.” They gave Jane a smile. “Thank you.”

“What for?” She asked them, confused.

“For being a friend. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have a friend.” They told her as their phone vibrated, they glanced at it before looking at Jane. “They’ve got them.”

“It’s over.” She whispered as Y/N took a deep breath, soon letting out a strangled sob.

“I can’t believe it.” They cried as Jane moved to wrap her arms around them. “She’s finally getting the justice she deserves.” Jane held them as they cried, knowing this was the closure they really needed from this case.

#jane banner x gn! reader #jane banner x reader #jane banner #wind river #elizabeth chase olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #lizzie olsen x you #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie olsen imagine

[soulofapatrick]

You Infuriate Me - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: You almost get killed and Joel snaps at you out of fear and being terrible at showing emotions 

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: small amount of injury really; angst and fluff

Y/N’s POV

The cabin is quiet when we step inside, the only sounds our breathes and the creaking of the floorboards. The air is tense, Joel moving left and me right, neither speaking to each other as he’s still mad at me for running off and almost getting myself killed. I thought I’d heard a kid crying for help and rushed headfirst into a raiders trap of a room full of runners and clickers and of course I ran out of ammo two clickers from clearing the room and Joel showed up just in time. He’s giving me the silent treatment and I’m not going to apologise and I’m not going to tell him about the blood sliding down the sleeve of my jacket, starting to slide through my fingers and making it a little difficult to hold my gun without it sliding around in my grip. 

Making it around the downstairs and finding the cabin empty I can feel Joel’s eyes on me but I refuse to look at him as he comes back down the stairs. I know he’s angry, I can see it in the usually soft honey of his eyes , but I’m angry too. I’m angry that he always treats me like a child like I can’t handle myself in a fight, like I hadn’t survived six years out here without him. It makes me wanna scream and punch something so I speak, “Cabin is clear, let’s go.” My tone harsher and colder than I intended but I just turn and head for the door where our horses are waiting for us. 

He says my name and I can hear the pain hidden deep beneath the anger but I’m not doing this now, wanting to just get back so Tommy can check out the still bleeding gash on my shoulder. Wanting to get back before Joel notices the blood and then lectures me even more, so I’m storming out the door and fixing my gun to Indiana’s saddle before swinging myself up and settling in the saddle. Joel’s huffing but copying me, eyes boring into my back as I ride ahead and refuse to look back. I can sense his frustration and disappointment but it’s unfair. A few days ago he was telling me how much he admires me and then he was calling me childish and impulsive and I was stupid enough to believe that he liked me romantically. That maybe he was telling me he felt the same way but nah, I was just being delusional obviously as the anger radiates from him.

The gates grind open and I’m off of Indiana, handing him to Isadore - our stable boy and one of my best friends - squeezing his shoulder and heading for Tommy’s well before Joel’s had a chance to climb off Callus. Tommy’s isn’t that far into town so I’m there quickly, not even knocking but storming in and making Tommy look up from where he’s washing dishes while Maria’s pouring over a patrol routes map. I’m shrugging off my jacket, a small pool of blood slipping out the sleeve and onto their floor ,and the shirt around my left shoulder is soaked with blood, which has both their attentions. Maria grabs her own jacket and leaves, probably to go talk to Joel while I throw myself into a chair at the table. 

“What happened?” Tommy asks, sitting next to me with the medical bag spread out on the table. He eyes my shirt and without hesitation I’m ripping it over my head, sitting in just my sports bra in front of Tommy but I don’t care. Tommy’s married and he’s pretty much an older brother figure to me. Tommy’s my person. 

“I ran into a trap and of course mister fucking know it all has been pissed at me the whole rest of the day.” I snap, throwing my balled up shirt across the room and quickly apologising when he gives me a look with his eyebrows raised. He accepts the apology and pulls out the needle and thread, handing me the bottle of whiskey to try and dull the pain. Of course it doesn’t and I’m digging my nails into Tommy’s leg almost painfully in a hope I don’t scream as fuck, it’s so painful. 

“You know Joel’s just angry because he cares about you.” Tommy speaks as he focuses on stitching my shoulder up, cognac eyes flicking to meet mine for a split second before going back to the needle when I turn my head to look at him. He’s got a face of pure concentration, brows furrowed and tongue sticking out a little, nose scrunched up to hid his freckles that are barely visible against his sun-kissed skin. His hair is tucked behind his ears so it doesn’t get in the way and the pads of his fingers are rough against my sensitive skin. I’ve always thought that if Tommy wasn’t married and I had never met Joel I’m sure he is who I would have ended up with but not in this universe it seems. 

“Yeah because calling me fucking childish; impulsive and immature is caring about me.”

Tommy chuckles softly, “Joel’s never been good at expressing his emotions,” He mutters, more to himself before continuing, “Y/N, that man I head over heels for you and he was probably scared watching you almost die-”

“How’d you know I almost died?” I cut him off and his head flies up, cognac eyes wide and I realised he was joking about me almost dying and now there’s a very similar glare on his face that Joel’s had all day, “Not you too please. Tommy, you’re meant to be my person.” 

“I am you person,” He huffs before finishing up my stitches and moving back to grab a bandage to keep the stitches protected, “But think about this, if it was Maria where you were and I was Joel I would be pissed and scared. He’s scared that he almost lost you,” I just frown, pouting as I know Tommy’s right. He’s always right. So the feelings I thought Joel had for me are real. I wasn’t just imagining them and now he’s getting the silent treatment from me and- “Go get your man.” Tommy nudges me up and I pull myself to my feet, eyes searching for my shirt but before I can even move towards it Tommy is holding out his sweatshirt that he knows I really love but everyone knows it’s Tommy’s and he doesn’t want to give people the wrong idea. 

I’m outside Joel’s before I can process it and I’m knocking before I can stop myself, hearing movement before he’s answering the door and I think my throat closes up when I see him. His honey eyes red and puffy as if he’s been crying, salt and pepper hair a fluffy mess from him running his hands through it and his weatherworn skin deepest with pain and anger. His beard glistening a little from the tears he’s obviously shed and I think my heart breaks as I’ve done this to him. Joel just looks at me, surprise written all over his face, before he’s silently stepping aside to let me in and I do just that, letting him close the door behind me and stopping in the centre of the living room. We just stand there in silence, facing each other and neither knowing what to say. 

“I’m sorry,” I choke out, voice barely a whisper and I can’t meet his gaze, “You were right, I was being impulsive and childish and I shouldn’t have-“ 

“I’m sorry,” Joel cuts me off, voice gruff and almost broken. I can feel my heart racing in my chest, my hands trembling at my sides as he lets out a heavy sigh, “I don’t want to lose you too.” He sounds to vulnerable and I finally gain the courage to meet his gaze. I can see the openness on his face as he lets me see the pain and fear and it breaks my heart all over again.

I’m closing the distance between us, ignoring the dull throbbing in my left shoulder, grabbing Joel’s left hand in my right one and his eyes slip down to our hands, breath a little shaky so I speak again, “I’m sorry Joel,” I say it more firmly, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles before adding, “But you… You, Joel Henry Miller, are a dumbass when it comes to expressing emotions.” His head flies up, eyes wide and mouth agape a little as he tries to find the words but coming up with nothing so he looks like a beached fish, cheeks a rosy colour. I take his speechlessness as an opportunity and pull him that final step closer by his hand, his chest flush against mine. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body and the tension that has been between us seems to dissipate as soon as my lips brush his in a quick and testing kiss. 

Joel is looking down at me with a mixture of surprise and desire, I can feel his heart jackhammering in his chest. But then again, it could just be mine, we’re so close I’m not sure. Joel’s hand is shaking free of mine to grab my chin and draw me up into a proper kiss, the softness and neediness of his lips quickly replacing my need for oxygen. Despite kissing him for the first time it feels oh so familiar and comforting, like old friends rekindling a romance. I can feel the heat building between us, his tongue tracing my lower lip before delving into my mouth, exploring and teasing me. My right hand finding its way into his hair and pulling him closer as he walks me backwards towards the nearest wall. 

I’m letting out a pained sound as my back collides with the wall, sending a sharp and pulsing pain to ricochet through me from my left shoulder. It has Joel breaking the kiss, concern and worry etched into the lines on his forehead as I let my head fall back against the wall and my right hand instinctively goes to grip my left shoulder. I can picture the way Joel’s eyes have narrowed by the way his fingers trace over my hand lightly and he asks, “What’s wrong?”

My breath comes out in ragged gasps, silently cursing myself for not going to the market to get myself some painkillers before coming here. I breathe through my teeth, trying to get a grip on the pain and steady my racing heart, “It’s nothing.” I lie instinctively but I feel him shuffle and drag my eyes open to see him with his hands on his hips, one knee cocked out slightly and his eyebrows raised in the same way Tommy had earlier so I sigh through the pain and say, “I caught my knife when fighting off the clickers.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You called me childish and impulsive and I didn’t want to prove you right.” Joel lets out a sigh, his hand moving from my hand to my shoulder, gently pressing down to feel the wound. I wince at the pressure, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. He leans down and brushes his lips against my forehead, his voice low and gentle as he speaks, “You shouldn’t have to prove anything to me, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I didn’t mean it.” It makes my heart swell at his words and I reach up to cup his face, my thumb rubbing gently against his cheekbone. “It’s okay, Joel. I know you didn’t mean it.”

We stand there for a moment, just looking into each other’s eyes, the tension between us dissipating as we come to a mutual understanding. Joel breaks the silence, his voice a little gruff as he says, “Come on, can I have a look?” I’m nodding before yelping in surprise when he scoops me up and heads to his kitchen to set me down on the table. His fingers fiddling with the bottom of Tommy’s sweater, eyes questioning and I’m nodding, letting him help me ease the sweater off and not helping but laughing when he chucks the material across the room with a grumble about Tommy’s clothing and his before his eyes settle on the bandage on my shoulder and upper arm. His fingers ghost lightly over the bandage before he’s meeting my gaze again, “Can I kiss you again?” 

“Please.” I’m gasping out, gripping the front of his plaid button up and yanking him forwards, meeting his lips half way, feeling the way his large hands land on my thighs to catch his balance. This kiss is passionate and intense, fuelled by a mix of desire and relief. Joel’s lips are soft yet demanding, eagerly exploring and tasting mine as he deepens the kiss. His tongue gently brushes against my lower lip before delving into my mouth, eliciting a moan from deep within my throat. I respond in kind, my own hands tangling in his hair as I pull him closer. 

“Y/N? Joel? If you two haven’t killed-“ Tommy stops in the kitchen doorway, a shit eating grin finding it’s way to his lips, “I see I’ve interrupted but I’m pretty sure you’re going to be wanting these.” He’s holding up a bottle of painkillers and I think I whimper which has Joel dislodging himself from where he was standing between my legs to take the bottle from Tommy. 

“Yes, thank you Tommy, now you can leave.” Joel is guiding his brother through the living room towards the door and I can hear them bickering and Tommy’s teasing and laughing the whole way there. I can hear him cackling even after the front door is shut on him and Joel comes back in, grumbling about stupid younger brothers. He puts the bottle of painkillers next to me on the table before slotting himself back between my legs and grips my chin, “Now where were me?” 

“You were going to kiss me again.” 

“Hmmmm, is that so?” His warm breath ghosts over my lips, pulling his head back a little every time I move forwards to close the gap. 

“Joel Miller! I swear to god if you don’t kiss me right n-“

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

The Last of Us Masterlist

TAGS: Tag List Form

@clover723​ @sexyvixen7​ @iraot​ @gemimawrites​ @twopercentmilk​ @amythenortherner​ @urnewghostfriend​ @grooveandshit​  @canpillowscry​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @quinnverses​ @librafilms​ @notsosecretspy​ @certifiedhunter​ @yourmommilf​ @mediocrewallflow3r​ @fariylixie0915​ @randomhoex​ @secretsthathauntus​ @ems-alexandra​ @quinnsgrapejuice​ @marvelsimps​ @cutesyscreenname​ @misspascaliverse​  @pedritosdarling​ @letsgroovetonighttt​ @forthetears​ @casual-obsessions​​ @phoenixxtay​ @katmoonz​ @scoliobean​ @evyiione​ @pedr0swh0r3 @casa-boiardi​ @carlgrimeskisser​ @mydailyhyperfixations​ @malewife-cas​

#Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller fluff #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller angst #Joel Miller x f!reader #Pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #Pedro Pascal character #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #the last of us fluff #the last of us angst #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou2 #tlou x reader #tlou x you #tlou x y/n #tlou smut #tlou fluff #tlou angst #tlou Joel #Joel Miller tlou #tlou Joel Miller

[tc-doherty]

Multiple times in the past 2 weeks I've had people say things along the lines of "but you probably have really specific ideas about what your characters look like" and "but you probably have really specific ideas about what your character sounds like" and the answer is no! I don't!! I have no clue!

I cannot visualize things for shit!

I cannot picture things in my head, be that actual visuals or audio or taste or anything else. I have almost complete aphantasia. Whatever I write down description-wise is usually pretty vague.

Whatever you think my characters look like or sound like based on whatever limited description I give, that's totally fine with me.

I just want to put it out there that like. I am a fantasy author who has a very, very poor ‘visual’ imagination, and that's fine. Almost always when I'm talking to people they think that I must be able to see like. Movies in my head or whatever and the truth is it's a blank fucking slate, that's all. I don't see anything. I don't hear anything. I make up everything with my best guess work.

That's also why I tend to use a lot of descriptions and metaphors that have to do with animals, because I'm very familiar with animal behavior, but I'm not very good at visualizing things so…comparing things to animals it is!

It is something that has a big impact on my life. I am really bad at directions because I can't visualize maps or routes in my head. I can't remember what people's voices sound like, I can't remember what their faces look like either, not until I've known them for really long time and have seen them frequently, I can't remember what things I've eaten taste like…so on and so on.

Just want to say that you can like. Really not have a single god damn clue, and still write just fine.

Don't feel like you have to think about your writing in a certain way, or that you have to provide a certain kind of stuff for other people. You do you, and they'll do them, and that's okay.

#writing #writeblr #just chatting really

[leoslosttoolbelt]

Lost: cc!Quackity Drabble

Description: Imagine getting lost while on a late night drive with Quackity.

---

“Alex,” You yawn, clicking off of the ‘maps’ app and turning to your boyfriend. “I think we’re lost.” 

He shakes his head, eyes still on the road. “We’re not, I swear. Just trust me.” 

You both had decided to go for a late night drive when neither of you could go to bed. Since the usual route you both took was blocked because of construction, it was only natural for you to take a new route. It had started off beautifully, the road leading to the beach but as you got farther away from home - the more you realised that this road led to the middle of nowhere. 

“Have you,” You bit back another yawn. “Have you been here before?” 

He shakes his head again, eyebrows scrunched as he continues on. “Nope - but we’re in LA. We’ll find a sign soon enough.” 

You didn’t particularly like the fact that you both were lost at 2 am, but there was little you could do about it on the passenger seat. Turning yourself in your seat, you look at your boyfriend - appreciating him in quiet moments like these. 

Life is extremely hectic for the both of you. He’s juggling streaming and his last year of law school and you’re busy usually under a pile of university assignments - despite your tradition of weekly dates, it’s hard to spend time together so casually. 

It’s dark outside but the flashes of moonlight illuminate Alex’s face. You take this moment to appreciate the moles on his skin - resisting the urge to lean over the press kisses to them. His long shiny hair is tied up in an awkward bun, beanie thrown on the backseat. 

“What’re you looking at?” He teases, eyes flickering to you for barely a few seconds. 

You grin. 

“You.” 

He lets out a giggle, not doing much to hide his blushing. Something that you’ve learnt in your few months of dating him is that despite his casually flirtatious nature, the smallest of genuine comments got him flustered. 

“You look pretty.” You smile, watching his expressions carefully. 

He snorts and makes a poor attempt to hide his face. “You’re one to talk - who the fuck looks like that at two in the morning.” 

Although he means to sound overly exasperated, you can see his smile as he reaches over and rests his free hand on your thigh. 

You snort, looking out the window - still dark and in the middle of nowhere. 

Alex must’ve noticed you look out the window because he squeezes your thigh reassuringly. “Don’t worry - we can’t be too lost, if we don’t see anything for a while longer I’ll turn right around.” 

“So you admit that you got us lost?” 

“Hey!” He pouts. “I didn’t get us lost - if anything it’s the government’s fault, for fixing the road while we were going for a ride.” 

You laugh - and if the car hadn’t been completely empty, you would’ve completely missed what Alex had added next, voice so soft that it almost got carried away with the night breeze. 

Almost. 

“Besides, being lost isn’t too bad with you here.” 

#quackity x reader #quackity fluff #quackity #quackity x you #quackity imagines #dsmp imagine #quackity dream smp