#Building Sign Materials
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How Lighting Can Transform Your Building Sign Experience
Are you looking to make a bold statement with your building signage? Do you want to attract more customers and stand out from the competition? Look no further than the power of lighting to transform your building sign experience.
Building signage is more than just a way to let people know where your business is located. It is a powerful marketing tool that can help you make a lasting impression on potential customers. And when it comes to making your signage stand out, lighting can make all the difference.
The Importance of Building Signage
Building signage is often the first point of contact between your business and potential customers. It is what sets you apart from the competition and helps to establish your brand identity. A well-designed and strategically placed building sign can attract attention, create a positive first impression, and ultimately drive foot traffic to your business.
Read More About : Innovative Building Sign Ideas to Boost Your The businesses Curb Appeal
The Power of Lighting in Signage
When it comes to building signage, lighting can be a game-changer. Whether it's illuminating your sign at night or adding a pop of color during the day, lighting can help your sign grab attention and make a lasting impression. In fact, studies have shown that well-lit signage can increase visibility and brand recognition, ultimately leading to increased foot traffic and sales.
Types of Lighting for Building Signs
There are several types of lighting options available for building signs, including LED lights, neon lights, and backlit signs. Each type of lighting has its own unique benefits and can help you achieve the desired look and feel for your signage.
1. LED Lighting: Energy-Efficient and Versatile
LED lighting is a popular choice for building signs due to its energy efficiency and versatility. These lights consume less power, have a longer lifespan, and offer a range of colors and brightness levels, making them ideal for businesses looking to reduce costs while maintaining a vibrant and dynamic sign. Additionally, LED lights are environmentally friendly, contributing to a more sustainable business practice.
2. Neon Lighting: Classic and Eye-Catching
Neon lighting provides a nostalgic, classic look that instantly grabs attention. Known for its bright, glowing colors and distinctive retro appeal, neon is perfect for businesses that want to create a unique and memorable visual identity. Despite being more energy-intensive than LEDs, neon signs remain a popular choice for establishments like bars, restaurants, and boutiques, where atmosphere and ambiance are key.
3. Backlit Lighting: Modern and Sleek
Backlit lighting offers a modern and sleek appearance, giving signs a sophisticated edge. This type of lighting involves illuminating the sign from behind, creating a soft, even glow that enhances the design without overwhelming it. Ideal for businesses seeking a polished and professional image, backlit signs work well in a variety of settings, from corporate offices to high-end retail stores.
Read More About : How to Choose the Right Materials for Your Building Sign
Benefits of Well-Lit Building Signs
Well-lit building signs can offer a range of benefits for your business, including increased visibility, brand recognition, and foot traffic. By investing in lighting for your building sign, you can make sure that your business stands out from the competition and attracts more customers.
1. Increased Visibility
Day and Night: A well-lit sign ensures that your business is visible both during the day and at night. This is particularly important in areas with high foot or vehicle traffic, as it helps attract potential customers 24/7.
Stand Out in a Crowded Area: In busy commercial districts, a brightly lit sign can help your business stand out among competitors, drawing attention to your location.
2. Enhanced Brand Recognition
Consistent Branding: A well-designed, illuminated sign reinforces your brand identity by making your logo and brand colors more prominent. This consistency helps customers recognize and remember your business.
Professional Image: A well-lit sign projects a professional image, giving the impression that your business is well-established and reliable.
3. Improved Safety and Security
Well-Lit Entrances: Illuminated signs often contribute to the overall lighting of your business premises, making entrances and exits safer for customers and employees.
Deterrent to Crime: Bright signs can also act as a deterrent to vandalism and theft, as they make it harder for criminals to go unnoticed.
4. Energy Efficiency
LED Technology: Modern illuminated signs often use LED lighting, which is energy-efficient and has a long lifespan. This reduces operating costs and minimizes environmental impact.
Sustainability: Businesses can enhance their reputation by choosing eco-friendly lighting options, demonstrating a commitment to sustainability.
5. Cost-Effective Marketing
24/7 Advertising: A well-lit sign serves as a constant advertisement for your business, promoting your brand even outside of regular business hours.
Attractive ROI: Compared to other forms of advertising, a building sign is a one-time investment that continues to generate returns through increased customer awareness and foot traffic.
6. Versatility in Design
Customization Options: Well-lit signs offer a wide range of design possibilities, allowing businesses to create unique and eye-catching displays that align with their brand image.
Dynamic Displays: Some illuminated signs can be designed with changing colors or animations, adding an extra layer of engagement and attracting even more attention.
Tips for Enhancing Your Building Sign Experience with Lighting
If you're looking to enhance your building sign experience with lighting, there are a few key tips to keep in mind. First and foremost, make sure that your lighting is strategically placed to maximize visibility and impact. Additionally, consider the color temperature and brightness of your lighting to create the desired effect. And finally, don't be afraid to get creative and think outside the box when it comes to lighting your building sign.
When it comes to installation, you may be wondering whether to go the DIY route or hire a professional. While DIY installation may seem like a cost-effective option, it's important to consider the expertise and experience that a professional can bring to the table. By working with a professional building sign company, you can ensure that your lighting is installed correctly and will continue to look its best for years to come.
Conclusion: Light Up Your Building Signage Success
In conclusion, Proper lighting can significantly enhance your building sign experience, making it more visible and attractive. By choosing the right illumination, you highlight your brand and draw in potential customers. Remember, a well-lit sign not only provides information but also creates an inviting atmosphere. Consider upgrading your lighting to see instant improvements. Take the next step in boosting your visibility and transforming your space.
Source : How Lighting Can Transform Your Building Sign Experience
#building signs#Building Sign Materials#building sign philadelphia#building signage#Building Sign Ideas#building sign installation philadelphia
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NARITA-KUN WO SEMETAI! ( 成田くんを攻めたい!)
I Want to be Agressive Toward Narita! / Izumi Mio
Complete, with 8 chapters / 2 volumes
F/M; Shoujo, Comedy, Romance + dom f, sub m, role reversal
SUMMARY: Amane Fukatsu, a 2nd year high school girl, is an otaku whose hobby is posting her BL manga creations on social media. One day, she stumbles upon Narita-kun, a popular guy from another class, being attacked by a cat (?). Witnessing this scene of gap-moe, Amane is struck by inspiration…?! A cool otaku girl takes the initiative to relentlessly pursue a popular guy! A new-age romantic comedy filled with laughter and heart-warming moments.
MAL score: 7.24 AL mean score: 73% MU average: 7.5
PERSONAL SCORE: 6 out of 10
#it's cute!#if it was like one of the first light fem/dom mangas ive ever read i would have given it a 7 or even 8 maybe#because it touches on many things ive been screaming about since forever about cute male leads in romance manga#but i'd rather that instead you make a point in speech you just incorporate the point into the story more seamlessly#oms listing#narita kun wo semetai!#i want to be aggresive toward narita!#personally i would translate this title as 'i want to be narita-kun's seme!'#i dont think this one is official anyways#izumi mio#<i knew i recognized that name... author of okyuuryou wa kareshi desu#shoujo manga#mypost#l: narita kun wo semetai!#l: f x m#l: dom f#l: sub m#l: role reversal#personal score: 6#by the way if you don't believe or have never seen people being biased against fem/dom for no reason#just check out any fem/dom title on MU#and there will be a disproportionate amount of 1/10 votes. this one has very few votes but it's already there#like. for other topics this blog covers i can understand? but for a sweet manga like this (and many other light fem/doms)?#lmao it's so serious for them...#idk if you guys have seen how even people on tumblr keep recycling their distaste for fem/dom every so often#by tying it up in their cool-person speech pattern about how boring it is and a sign of bad character building#and any interpretation towards it is people not understanding the source material and how theyre EquALS ACTUALLY#fuckofff#you dont know shit about fem/dom or b/dsm my guy
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#sewing#quilt#quilting#commission pricing#handmade#i charge $25/hour + materials. when i sold at cons i had a sign set up that stated “price goes up 10% if you ask/demand i lower the price”#folks thought it was funny until i followed through with raising the price. one woman went full karen and started crying and shouting#because i wouldn't sell for walmart prices. so i raised and raised the price. then another woman comes over for thr same#thing and i charge her for the original price. the karen was less than pleased and had to be escorted outta the building#my prices will eventually go up again. they started at $18/hour in 2017.#a potential client thought i was joking about the supply prices. namely the fabric. they wanted to buy all the supplies so they knew the#price was “honest.” they were shocked to discover i was correct. it would've cost around $300 just for thr materials. labor costs? yeah.#they opted not to commission me and went with a comfortor they found at walmart.
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Idk how big pictures work on Tumblr but here yall go. Did this in one go (around 10 hours) cuz I am in control : )
More to come ^^
Also, oh to be a comic artist with a team. Doing everything alone is TOUGH
Also idk might shade later (and so I did!)
#espio the chameleon#sonic oc#slushie the arctic fox#vector the crocodile#charmy bee#team chaotix#sonic comic#sonic fancomic#it's fun but MY BUTT HURTS SO BAD#I HAVEN'T EATEN IN OVER 10 HOURS#that last pic really comes out of nowhere#also she didn't even get anything out of her bag#but i'm tired and this took so long and my butt hurts so you didn't see aaaaaanythiiiiiinnnnnngggg#charmy is intrigued by fluff#also yea traced the building's outside and inside#thank you sonic x for providing me with reference material#also also yes the big important sign is in comic sans#SDB art
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World Building Materials Business & Industry
World Building Materials Business & Industry
Explore the latest trends, innovations, and insights that shape the global landscape of construction and design.
#acrylic&sign materials#adhesives#alucopanel#bath fittings#boards#building materials#ceiling#electrical#exotic timber#fire soliution#flooring#furniture fittings#hardware#interior wraps#kitechens#laminates#malemine chip board#mdf#plywood#quartz#solid surface#steel#tiles#veneer#architecture#construction#interior design
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Oh my god, I forgot how much I love weird little worldbuilding details
#things like the material of buildings or magic items that were clumsily made by kids#flowers grown not in pots but the only available containers nearby#signs in different languages#makes me sigh dreamily and remember why i love fantasy#and all speculative fiction!! i love fictional worlds that feel so human
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10 World-Building Aspects You Probably Overlooked
When crafting a fictional world, it's easy to focus on the big picture—epic battles, grand landscapes, and memorable characters. However, it’s also important to flesh out your world-building to create a ‘real’ world. Some aspects to consider when world-building are:
1. Local Cuisine
Consider the types of food your characters eat and how it reflects their culture, geography, and economy. Unique dishes can reveal societal values and local ingredients.
2. Currency & Trade
Explore the forms of currency used and the trade systems in place. This can include bartering, precious metals, or unique items as currency, influencing economic interactions.
3. Timekeeping Practices
Different cultures may have their own methods for measuring time, whether it's a unique calendar system, seasons, or celestial events, affecting daily life and traditions.
4. Cultural Taboos
Consider the unspoken rules and taboos that govern behavior in your world. These can drive conflict and character motivations, adding depth to societal interactions.
5. Local Flora and Fauna
Unique plants and animals can shape the environment and influence the culture, whether through medicine, food sources, or as part of local mythology.
6. Rituals and Festivals
Incorporate unique rituals or festivals that celebrate historical events, seasonal changes, or important life milestones, providing insight into cultural values and traditions.
7. Language Nuances
Explore dialects, slang, or even the use of sign language that reflects the culture and social dynamics, enriching dialogue and interactions between characters.
8. Architecture and Housing Styles
The design and materials of buildings can reflect climate, resources, and cultural values. Unique architectural features can tell a story about the society that built them.
9. Social Hierarchies and Classes
Examine how social structures affect character relationships and interactions. Class distinctions can influence everything from daily life to political power.
10. Environmental Impact
Consider how the natural environment shapes societal behaviours, resource usage, and conflicts. Climate and geography can drive migration patterns and societal development.
Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?
Looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors!
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#hayatheauthor#haya's book blog#haya blogs#writing community#quillology with haya#writing tools#writer things#writing advice#writer community#writing techniques#writing prompt#writing stuff#creative writing#ya writing advice#writing tips and tricks#writer tools#writers of tumblr#writer blog#writers block#quillology with haya sameer#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writer stuff#author help#author advice#author#writing inspiration#writeblr#novel writing#on writing
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God we got to visit our TA's grad studio on Tuesday and I'm still thinking abt it. It was beautiful. I have to stay alive if for no reason other than one day I could also have my own studio, a place dedicated solely to being alive and sharing that with the world. Fuck man
#I am irrationally emotional abt it. but smth abt it just Hit Me yknow#it was beautiful tho. he had a bigass couch and a wall covered in newspaper clippings he'd rescued from the dump and was turning them into#a mosaic theatre sign with real tiles from demolished buildings. I could've cried dude it was unreal#three whole rooms full of whatever art and found materials and shit he wanted. whatever gave him joy and inspiration and something to Do.#armchair speaks
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lord do I hate the browns organization with every thing I have. that award ceremony could not have been more obviously biased holy cow
#giving myles g dpoy is one thing#tj watt has been snubbed so many goddamn times in that category it’s a running joke now#but KEVIN STAFANSKI!!!!???!?!?!?!#YOU STARTED HOW MANY QBS THIS YEAR#BEFORE LANDING ON JOE FUCKING FLACCO#WHO YOU SIGNED HALFWAY THRU THE SEASON OFF HIS COUCH#AFTER YOUR SO CALLED STAR RAPIST QB COULDNT PLAY#t#browns spent so much cap money on watson that they couldn't afford to better build their o line#coach of the year material for sure !!!#what a massive joke#nfl
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I figured I should list setbacks and consequences (including signs of internal collapse) faced by Israel in the past couple of months. I'll make this as chronological as possible. Add any you think I missed.
While Hezbollah targets Haifa, Golan Heights, and new settlements
Gaza continues to punish the invading army
More and more western publications are forced to admit that Israel cannot defeat the Palestinian resistance
“This is a very high number that encompasses many sectors. About 77 percent of the businesses that have been closed since the beginning of the war, which make up about 35,000 businesses, are small businesses with up to five employees, and are the most vulnerable in the economy,” Yoel Amir, CEO of Israeli information services and credit risk management firm, CofaceBdi, told Maariv. The report adds that “the most vulnerable industries are the construction industry, and as a result also the entire ecosystem that operates around it: ceramics, air conditioning, aluminum, building materials, and more – All of these were significantly damaged,” according to CofaceBdi’s risk ratings. The trade sector has also been severely affected. This includes the service sector and industries including fashion, furniture, housewares, entertainment, transport, and tourism. Israel is in a situation where “there is almost no foreign tourism,” the report said, adding that “damage to businesses is all over the country, and almost no sector has been spared.” This includes the agriculture sector, which is based mainly in the south and the north – both considered active combat zones due to the threat posed by the Palestinian resistance and Lebanon’s Hezbollah – whose support front against Israel has significantly contributed to the downfall of the economy. The CofaceBdi CEO estimates that 60,000 Israeli businesses are expected to be shut down by the end of 2024.
ICYMI, Yemen's armed forces have said they got a direct hit on Eisenhower, a nuclear powered aircraft carrier, forcing it to leave the Red Sea
Israel's attack on Yemen is playing a role in bringing Yemen's civil war to an end.
Etc, etc.
The point of this post is to encourage everyone who reads it. Keep talking about Gaza, keep boycotting, keep protesting, keep resisting.
#yemen#jerusalem#tel aviv#current events#palestine#free palestine#gaza#free gaza#news on gaza#palestine news#news update#war news#war on gaza#axis of resistance#palestinian resistance#boycott divest sanction#bds movement#anti zionism#ansarallah#hezbollah#long post#ansar allah#red sea blockade#red sea
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Whats your stance on A.I.?
imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!
like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.
but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!
so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.
consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.
but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!
see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???
so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.
i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.
(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)
#sarahposts#ai#ai art#llm#chatgpt#artificial intelligence#genai#anti genai#capitalism is bad#tech companies#i really don't like these people if that wasn't clear
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Building Sign Maintenance: Tips To Ensure Longevity And Visibility
When it comes to maintaining the exterior of your building, one often overlooked aspect is the upkeep of your building sign. Building signs are not only essential for branding and visibility but also play a crucial role in attracting customers and making a lasting impression. In this blog post, we will explore the importance of building sign maintenance and provide you with some valuable tips to ensure longevity and visibility for your signage.
Importance of Building Sign Maintenance
Your building sign is the first thing that potential customers see when they approach your business. It serves as a silent salesperson, communicating your brand message and attracting attention. Regular maintenance of your building sign is crucial to ensure that it remains in top condition and continues to effectively represent your business.
Why Regular Building Sign Maintenance is Key for Longevity
Regular maintenance is key to ensuring the longevity of your building sign. By addressing any issues promptly and conducting routine inspections, you can prevent minor problems from escalating into major repairs. This not only saves you money in the long run but also ensures that your sign remains in good condition for years to come.
Choosing the Right Building Sign Materials for Durability
When it comes to building sign maintenance, choosing the right materials is essential for durability. Opt for high-quality building sign materials that can withstand the elements and regular wear and tear. Investing in durable materials upfront will save you time and money on repairs in the future.
Cleaning and Care Tips for Maximum Visibility
Regular cleaning and care are essential for maintaining the visibility of your building sign. Remove dirt, debris, and grime regularly to ensure that your sign remains visible and legible. Use gentle cleaning solutions and avoid harsh chemicals that can damage the sign's finish.
Updating and Refreshing Signs
As your business evolves, it's important to update or refresh your building sign to maintain a cohesive brand image. Outdated or damaged signage can give the impression that your business is not up-to-date. Consider updating the design of your sign or adding new elements like lighting to make it stand out. And don't forget to regularly clean and touch up your sign to keep it looking fresh and inviting.
Read More About : Innovative Building Sign Ideas to Boost Your The businesses Curb Appeal
Importance of Professional Building Sign Maintenance Services
While some maintenance tasks can be done in-house, it's important to enlist the help of professional maintenance services for more complex repairs and inspections. Sunrise Signs is Professional building sign installation and maintenance services have the expertise and tools needed to keep your building sign in top condition and ensure its longevity.
Conclusion: Investing in Building Sign Maintenance for Lasting Impact
In conclusion, building sign maintenance is essential for ensuring the longevity and visibility of your signage. By following the tips outlined in this blog post and investing in regular maintenance, you can make a lasting impact on your customers and continue to attract attention to your business. Remember, your building sign is a reflection of your brand, so contact us now and make sure it stays in top condition for years to come.
#building signs#Building Sign Materials#building sign philadelphia#building signage#building sign maintenance#building sign installation philadelphia
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The ruler of your Ascendant — and its house
Understanding the house in which your Ascendant ruler (also known as the chart ruler) resides is a deeply personal journey in astrology. It provides intimate insight into the core themes that shape your life path, personality, and approach to the world. The Ascendant represents your outward identity, how you present yourself, and how others perceive you. Its ruling planet acts as a personal guide, and its placement in a specific house highlights the life areas where you are naturally drawn and likely to encounter significant experiences. This knowledge fosters a deeper connection to your own life story and experiences.
Identify Your Ascendant: First, determine your Ascendant sign by calculating your birth chart. The Ascendant is the sign on the cusp of the 1st house.
Find the Ruling Planet of Your Ascendant:
- Aries Ascendant: Mars
- Taurus/Libra Ascendant: Venus
- Gemini/Virgo Ascendant: Mercury
- Cancer Ascendant: Moon
- Leo Ascendant: Sun
- Scorpio Ascendant: Pluto (modern) or Mars (traditional)
- Sagittarius Ascendant: Jupiter
- Capricorn Ascendant: Saturn
- Aquarius Ascendant: Uranus (modern) or Saturn (traditional)
- Pisces Ascendant: Neptune (modern) or Jupiter (traditional)
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 1st house
This placement makes your identity, self-expression, and personal impact on the world the center of your life. The 1st house is the house of the self, so having your chart ruler here means you're strongly connected to who you are and how you present yourself to others. It's like your core energy radiates through your personality, making you a powerful force in shaping your life path.
People can't help but notice you. Whether you're naturally confident or working on building that self-assurance, your presence is hard to ignore. You're likely to take the initiative in life, often driven to carve out your own path rather than following others.
With the Ascendant ruler in the 1st house, personal independence is not just important, it's a defining feature of your character. You possess a strong sense of what you want and are driven to achieve it, even if it means going against the norm. This placement is all about you taking charge of your destiny.
You're wired to express yourself authentically. There's a deep drive to figure out who you are and ensure your outer life reflects your inner truth. You're not one to fake it—being authentic is what matters most to you.
This placement also means that your self-development is not just a passing phase but a lifelong focus. You're constantly evolving, and the challenges that push you to grow often revolve around how you perceive yourself and how others perceive you. Personal improvement might feel like a never-ending project, but this continuous growth keeps you moving forward.
This placement makes you magnetic, driven, and authentic, giving you the natural power to shape your own world. It's a direct alignment between who you are inside and what you project to the outside world!
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 2nd house
You likely crave financial stability and material comfort. It's not just about money, though—it's about feeling secure and grounded in your life. This desire for financial stability is a reflection of your need for security and is completely understandable.
This placement makes you very attuned to your own value. You might tie your self-worth to how well you can support yourself or what you achieve in the material world. Learning to balance self-worth with what you have versus who you are is a key lesson for you.
Whether it's building wealth, a home, or even skills, you thrive on creating something lasting.
Your sense of self is deeply connected to what you personally find valuable, whether that's relationships, possessions, or even spiritual beliefs. These values guide your decisions and validate your alignment with your true self.
This placement drives you to create a life where you feel secure, self-sufficient, and aligned with what you truly value. You're not just looking for material wealth—you're building a life that reflects your deepest sense of self-worth and stability!
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 3rd house
You’re someone who’s always asking questions, always wanting to know more. Your mind is sharp, and you probably dive into new topics, pick up different skills, or constantly seek intellectual stimulation. You’re naturally curious about the world, and this curiosity shapes your sense of self.
Whether it’s through writing, speaking, or teaching, expressing yourself is key. You likely feel at home when sharing your thoughts or bouncing ideas off others. Your voice matters, and you probably thrive when you can interact with others, exchange ideas, or stay in the know.
You might have strong ties to your local environment, like your neighborhood or community. Siblings, cousins, or close-knit social circles often play an important role in your life. Your relationships are likely a constant source of learning and growth for you.
With your chart ruler here, learning doesn’t stop. Whether through formal education or self-taught experiences, you never stop growing mentally. Engaging with new ideas keeps you feeling vibrant and connected to your identity.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 4th house
You're someone who finds a lot of meaning in your home environment. Whether creating a cozy space or being surrounded by loved ones, having a secure and nurturing home life is essential for your emotional well-being. You're likely someone who values privacy and needs time in your sanctuary to recharge.
Your family, especially your roots and ancestry, plays a big role in shaping your identity. You might feel a strong connection to your heritage or have a deep sense of responsibility toward your family. Exploring your family history or finding your place within the family dynamic can be a major part of your personal growth.
Beyond the physical home, emotional security is a huge focus for you. You might spend a lot of time reflecting on your inner self, working through emotional patterns that go way back to your childhood. Establishing a strong emotional foundation helps you feel grounded in who you are.
With this placement, you likely have a natural instinct to care for others. Whether you're nurturing family members, friends, or even your own inner child, creating a supportive and loving environment around you is part of your life's work.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 5th house
You're naturally drawn to creative pursuits, whether that's through art, music, writing, or any activity that lets you express your unique self. Creativity is not just a hobby for you; it's a core part of who you are. You feel most alive when you're putting your own personal stamp on something.
Having fun and doing things that make you happy isn't just a nice thing to have; it's really important for your overall well-being. You enjoy experiencing happiness in many different ways, whether it's through hobbies, having fun, or appreciating the little things in life. You know how to let loose and embrace the moment, which makes you magnetic to others.
When it comes to love, you approach it with passion and excitement. Romance, flirting, and playful connection are likely a big part of your life. You might also find that your relationships bring out the best in your self-expression, making love a key theme in your personal growth.
This placement makes you a natural at bringing fun, creativity, and love into the world. You're at your best when you enjoy life, follow your passions, and share your vibrant energy with others. Letting your creative and playful side lead the way is what truly makes you shine!
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 6th house
Whether it's in your work, health, or personal habits, you're someone who thrives on getting things done. You might be the type who enjoys checking off tasks, organizing your day, and feeling productive. There's a profound sense of accomplishment in being efficient and dependable, and your efforts are truly commendable.
You likely find immense joy and satisfaction in helping others, whether that's through your job, taking care of loved ones, or simply being the go-to person when someone needs support. A natural part of you enjoys being of service and making life easier for those around you, and your altruistic nature is truly appreciated.
This placement often brings attention to your health and daily habits. You might be very conscious of how you take care of your body, mind, and spirit. Maintaining your well-being, whether through exercise, nutrition, or mental health routines, is a key part of feeling grounded and balanced.
The 6th house is also about self-improvement, so you always look for ways to grow. Whether picking up new skills at work, refining your routines, or focusing on personal development, you're motivated to keep evolving.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 7th house
Partnerships play a big role in your life. You're likely someone who thrives in close relationships, whether it's a romantic partner, best friend, or business collaborator. You feel more complete when you're sharing your life with someone else.
A big part of your life is about finding a balance between yourself and others. You're probably someone who likes harmony in your relationships and may go out of your way to ensure things are running smoothly between you and the people close to you.
You're drawn to people who mirror qualities you want to develop in yourself. Whether consciously or not, you tend to attract partners who help you grow; through these relationships, you learn a lot about who you are.
Working with others or being part of a team probably feels natural. You're not someone who likes to do things completely on your own—there's strength and fulfillment in knowing you have a partner by your side, whether in work or life.
You're likely good at reading people and understanding their needs. You can easily put yourself in someone else's shoes, which makes you a supportive and thoughtful partner.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 8th house
You don't like surface-level stuff. You crave depth, whether in relationships, conversations, or even understanding yourself. You probably want to dig into the "why" of everything, looking beyond what's obvious.
Change and growth are recurring themes in your life. You might undergo major transformations, either in how you see yourself or your life circumstances. You know how to rise from challenges stronger than before, almost like a phoenix.
Whether it's psychology, the mysteries of life, or even finances (like investments or shared resources), you're attracted to topics that others might shy away from. You have a natural curiosity for things that are hidden or misunderstood.
With your Ascendant ruler in the 8th, you might find that part of your life journey is learning to regain your power. Whether it's through overcoming personal challenges or helping others do the same, you're someone who seeks to understand power dynamics and work through them.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 9th house
Whether traveling to new places or exploring different ideas and cultures, you have a hunger for adventure. You thrive when you learn something new or experience life from a fresh perspective, and you're probably always thinking about your next big trip or goal.
You're not just interested in the day-to-day details—you want to understand the bigger picture. Whether through philosophy, spirituality or even just pondering the meaning of life, you're driven by a desire to understand the "why" behind everything.
Education, whether in school or through independent learning, is really important in your life. You enjoy learning about new things, and you might like helping others learn, too. Lifelong learning is your jam.
You're likely open to different cultures, ideas, and beliefs. You see value in diversity and are always looking to broaden your perspective. You're curious about what's out there and aren't afraid to challenge your own views.
You have a strong desire to find meaning and purpose in everything you do. Whether through your career, personal growth, or spiritual journey, you constantly seek something that brings direction and fulfillment to your life.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 10th house
You’ve got big goals and dreams and are not afraid to chase them. Whether climbing the career ladder or building a reputation, you have a strong drive to succeed and be recognized for your efforts.
Work and your professional life play a big part in your identity. You’re likely someone who puts a lot of energy into your career, and you probably feel most fulfilled when you’re making progress and reaching your goals.
How others see you, especially in a professional or public setting, matters to you. You’re likely very mindful of the image you project and want to be known for your accomplishments and integrity.
You’re not just thinking about short-term wins. You have an eye on the bigger picture, always thinking about how your actions today will impact your future. Building something that lasts—a career, a business, or a personal legacy—is important to you.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 11th house
Friendships and connections play a huge role in your life. You’re likely someone who loves being part of a community or network of like-minded people. Whether through social groups, clubs, or online communities, you’re energized by sharing ideas and experiences with others.
You’re not just thinking about personal success—you’re focused on long-term goals and the future. You probably have big ideas about how you want to contribute to the world or make an impact, and you’re always looking ahead, planning for what’s next.
Collaboration is your jam. You’re great at working with others toward a common goal, whether a cause, a project, or even shared fun. You understand that teamwork makes the dream work, and you’re likely the one who brings people together.
This placement is not just about what you can do for yourself but also about how you can be part of something larger. Causes, humanitarian efforts, or even just supporting friends in their dreams are important to you. You’re motivated by making a positive difference.
The 11th house is linked to innovation and new ideas, so you might be someone who’s into technology, progressive thinking, or just thinking outside the box. You enjoy exploring new concepts and staying ahead of the curve.
The ruler of your Ascendant is in the 12th house
You spend a lot of time in your head reflecting on life, your emotions, and the deeper meaning behind things. You’re probably more comfortable with your thoughts and feelings than most people and might need a lot of alone time to recharge.
Whether it’s spirituality, intuition, or just an interest in what’s hidden beneath the surface, you’re drawn to the mysterious side of life. You might be naturally intuitive, with a strong sense of things that aren’t immediately obvious to others.
You likely prefer keeping parts of yourself private, not necessarily because you’re secretive, but because you value your personal space.
This placement often suggests a path of personal healing and growth. You might go through deep transformations throughout your life, learning a lot about yourself by facing fears, letting go, or dealing with the past.
#astrology#astro#natal chart#astro observations#birth chart#astro notes#astrology posts#zodiac#zodiac signs#ascendant#rulers
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𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 - 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 。⋆.*:
Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)
The North Node symbolizes the path your soul is destined to pursue in this lifetime. It's a cosmic guidepost pointing toward the qualities, experiences, and lessons that will foster your growth, often urging you to leave behind the familiar and venture into uncharted territory. By understanding your North Node, you can unlock profound insights into your life’s purpose and the journey you’re meant to embark on.
◈ 𝐀𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Aries, your life’s purpose is to embrace independence, assertiveness, and self-leadership. You are here to develop the courage to take bold actions, trust your instincts, and prioritize your own desires. Moving away from a tendency to seek approval or overly rely on others, your growth lies in confidently stepping into your own power and charting your unique path.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Frequently seeking approval or validation before making decisions;
Hesitating to pursue your own ambitions due to fear of disrupting harmony;
Feeling frustrated of unfulfilled because you are not fully expressing your true self.
Tips to get into alignment:
Take small, independent actions that reinforce your sense of self-reliance;
Engage in solo activities that build your confidence and assertiveness;
Practice making decisions that prioritize your own goals and desires without external input.
Activities to get more into alignment: Starting a personal fitness routine, taking on leadership roles, making independent decisions, practicing assertiveness, engaging in competitive sports, pursuing solo travel, beginning a new hobby, public speaking, setting personal goals, exploring martial arts.
◈𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Taurus, your life’s purpose is to cultivate stability, patience, and self-reliance. You are here to build a secure and peaceful foundation, both materially and emotionally, moving away from a past that may have been characterized by intensity and turmoil. Your growth lies in appreciating the simple pleasures of life, embracing self-worth, and creating a steady, grounded approach to your goals.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Constantly seeking out drama or feeling restless without intensity;
Struggling with insecurity or dissatisfaction, focusing on what you lack;
Difficulty finding contentment in the present, always searching for more.
Tips to get into alignment:
Practice gratitude for the stability and peace in your life;
Engage in activities that ground you, such as gardening, cooking, or spending time in nature;
Focus on building long-term security, both financially and emotionally, and recognize your inherent value.
Activities to get more into alignment: Creating a budget, gardening, developing a daily routine, practicing mindfulness, cooking at home, investing in long-term savings, spending time in nature, enjoying sensory experiences, building a personal sanctuary, practicing gratitude.
◈ 𝐆𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Gemini, your life’s purpose is to embrace communication, curiosity, and adaptability. You are here to learn how to gather and share information, connect with others, and remain open to new ideas and perspectives. Moving away from a tendency to focus solely on big-picture or abstract concepts, your growth lies in being present, engaging in everyday exchanges of ideas, and staying flexible in your thinking and actions.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling disconnected or isolated from your immediate environment;
Overemphasizing distant goals or philosophical ideas while neglecting practical details;
Struggling to adapt to change or resisting new perspectives.
Tips to get into alignment:
Engage in conversations that challenge your perspective and encourage active listening;
Make an effort to connect with your local community and learn something new each day;
Embrace flexibility by being open to changing your mind based on new information or experiences.
Activities to get more into alignment: Engaging in daily conversations, learning new languages, attending workshops or seminars, reading diverse books, writing or journaling, exploring local neighborhoods, joining discussion groups, practicing active listening, staying curious about different perspectives, teaching or sharing knowledge.
◈ 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Cancer, your life’s purpose is to embrace nurturing, emotional connection, and the importance of home and family. You are here to develop a sense of security through deep emotional bonds and to learn how to care for yourself and others with empathy and compassion. Moving away from a focus on ambition, control, or rigid independence, your growth lies in cultivating vulnerability, emotional depth, and the ability to create a supportive and nurturing environment.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling emotionally distant or disconnected from loved ones;
Over-prioritizing work or external success at the expense of personal relationships;
Struggling to express or connect with your emotions, leading to a sense of isolation.
Tips to get into alignment:
Spend quality time with family and close friends to foster emotional bonds;
Practice self-care routines that nurture your emotional well-being;
Allow yourself to be vulnerable and express your feelings openly, focusing on building a warm, supportive environment.
Activities to get more into alignment: Spending time with family, creating a cozy home environment, practicing self-care, cooking for loved ones, engaging in emotional conversations, nurturing others, exploring your ancestry, volunteering in community services, expressing emotions through art, meditating on compassion.
◈ 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Leo, your life’s purpose is to embrace self-expression, creativity, and the courage to shine as an individual. You are here to step into the spotlight, take pride in your unique talents, and lead with confidence. Moving away from a focus on blending in or prioritizing the needs of the group, your growth lies in cultivating self-confidence, joy, and the ability to inspire others through your personal expression and authentic leadership.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling reluctant to take center stage or express your true self;
Over-identifying with group goals or neglecting your personal desires and creativity;
A lack of enthusiasm or passion in your daily life, feeling disconnected from your sense of purpose.
Tips to get into alignment:
Engage in creative activities that showcase your talents and passions;
Practice self-affirmation, build your confidence, and celebrate your achievements;
Take on leadership roles or initiatives that resonate with your personal values and inspire others.
Activities to get more into alignment: Taking up a creative hobby, participating in theater or performance, practicing self-affirmation, taking leadership roles, organizing events, pursuing personal passions, engaging in public speaking, showcasing your talents, celebrating personal achievements, exploring art or music.
◈ 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Virgo, your life’s purpose is to embrace practicality, organization, and service to others. You are here to develop skills that bring order to chaos, focus on the details, and contribute meaningfully to the world through your work. Moving away from tendencies toward idealism, escapism, or disorganization, your growth lies in cultivating a grounded, methodical approach to life, where you can make tangible improvements and offer practical help to those around you.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling overwhelmed by disorganization or a lack of structure in your life;
Escaping into fantasies or avoiding responsibilities instead of dealing with practical matters;
Struggling to focus on tasks or to turn ideas into reality.
Tips to get into alignment:
Create daily routines that bring structure and order to your life;
Break down larger goals into actionable steps and focus on completing them;
Engage in acts of service or work that requires precision and benefits others in a practical way.
Activities to get more into alignment: Organizing your workspace, developing a daily routine, practicing time management, engaging in volunteer work, focusing on health and wellness, creating to-do lists, learning a new skill, engaging in detailed projects, decluttering your home, practicing mindfulness in daily tasks.
◈ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Libra, your life’s purpose is to embrace balance, harmony, and the importance of relationships. You are here to learn how to cooperate with others, prioritize partnership over self-interest, and create fairness in your interactions. Moving away from a tendency to be overly self-reliant or assertive, your growth lies in cultivating diplomacy, understanding different perspectives, and fostering connections that bring mutual benefit and harmony.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Frequently feeling isolated or disconnected from others;
Acting too independently or assertively, neglecting the needs and input of others;
Experiencing conflicts due to a lack of compromise or consideration in relationships.
Tips to get into alignment:
Practice active listening and strive to understand others' viewpoints;
Focus on building relationships that are based on mutual respect, equality, and cooperation;
Engage in activities that promote harmony and collaboration, such as team projects, partnerships, or community events.
Activities to get more into alignment: Joining a group or team activity, practicing active listening, engaging in diplomatic conversations, exploring art and beauty, building relationships, practicing compromise, participating in social events, mediating conflicts, exploring fashion or design, collaborating on projects.
◈ 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Scorpio, your life’s purpose is to embrace transformation, deep emotional connections, and the power of letting go. You are here to learn how to navigate life’s complexities, face your fears, and develop resilience through profound personal change. Moving away from a focus on material security, superficial comforts, or the status quo, your growth lies in embracing the unknown, delving into the depths of your emotions, and seeking deeper, more meaningful experiences.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling stuck in comfort zones or resisting change;
Avoiding deep emotional connections or fearing vulnerability and intensity;
Focusing excessively on material security, external success, or surface-level appearances.
Tips to get into alignment:
Allow yourself to explore your deeper emotions and confront your fears;
Engage in practices that encourage transformation, such as therapy, journaling, meditation, or shadow work;
Embrace changes and challenges as opportunities for growth, and be willing to let go of what no longer serves you in pursuit of deeper truth and personal evolution.
Activities to get more into alignment: Engaging in deep emotional conversations, practicing meditation or journaling, exploring transformative experiences, studying psychology or spirituality, facing fears through shadow work, letting go of old patterns, engaging in intimate relationships, researching the occult or mysteries, embracing change, volunteering in crisis situations.
◈ 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Sagittarius, your life’s purpose is to embrace adventure, seek truth, and expand your horizons. You are here to develop a deeper understanding of the world through exploration, both physically and intellectually. Moving away from a focus on narrow details, rigid routines, and superficial knowledge, your growth lies in pursuing broader perspectives, embracing spontaneity, and following your intuition to discover deeper truths and wisdom.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling confined by routines or overly focused on detail;
Avoiding risks or sticking to familiar and comfortable paths;
Struggling to see the bigger picture, feeling disconnected from a sense of purpose.
Tips to get into alignment:
Engage in activities that expand your worldview, such as travel, learning new philosophies, or exploring different cultures;
Allow yourself to take risks and explore new opportunities without overthinking the details;
Focus on the bigger picture and develop a philosophy or worldview that helps you connect with a deeper sense of meaning and purpose.
Activities to get more into alignment: Traveling to new places, learning about different cultures, exploring philosophy or religion, engaging in outdoor adventures, studying a foreign language, practicing meditation or yoga, participating in spiritual retreats, sharing knowledge through teaching, reading about diverse topics, exploring new hobbies or interests.
◈ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Capricorn, your life’s purpose is to embrace discipline, responsibility, and long-term goals. You are here to develop a strong sense of structure, achieve material success, and take on leadership roles. Moving away from emotional dependence, short-term comforts, or passive roles, your growth lies in cultivating self-discipline, setting clear goals, and working steadily toward your ambitions. This journey involves stepping into positions of authority, taking responsibility for your actions, and building a solid foundation for your future.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Avoiding responsibilities or feeling stuck in comfort zones;
Lacking direction, motivation, or struggling to set and achieve long-term goals;
Over-relying on others for emotional support or guidance, struggling with independence.
Tips to get into alignment:
Set clear, long-term goals and create a structured plan to work toward them;
Focus on developing discipline and taking proactive steps to overcome challenges;
Embrace opportunities to lead, build your independence, and take charge of your life’s direction.
Activities to get more into alignment: Setting long-term goals, creating a career plan, taking on leadership roles, practicing discipline in daily routines, investing in professional development, organizing finances, mentoring others, building a business or project, focusing on personal responsibility, engaging in strategic planning.
◈ 𝐀𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Aquarius, your life’s purpose is to embrace innovation, individuality, and a focus on the collective good. You are here to develop a broader perspective, engage in humanitarian efforts, and bring about progressive change. Moving away from a focus on personal ambition, traditional roles, or maintaining the status quo, your growth lies in cultivating a sense of community, embracing unconventional ideas, and contributing to causes larger than yourself. This journey involves connecting with like-minded individuals, advocating for equality, and using your unique talents to benefit society as a whole.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling stuck in outdated or conventional ways of thinking;
Over-focusing on personal goals or traditional structures without considering the impact on others;
Resisting change, avoiding new ideas, or feeling disconnected from community efforts.
Tips to get into alignment:
Engage in activities that promote social justice, community improvement, or innovation;
Surround yourself with diverse perspectives and be open to new, unconventional ideas;
Focus on how your actions and ideas can contribute to the greater good, beyond just personal success.
Activities to get more into alignment: Joining social or humanitarian groups, engaging in community service, exploring new technologies, participating in group projects, studying social issues, embracing unconventional ideas, networking with diverse people, advocating for equality, attending social events, exploring progressive causes.
◈ 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐍𝐨𝐝𝐞 ◈
With the North Node in Pisces, your life’s purpose is to embrace spirituality, compassion, and creativity. You are here to develop a deeper connection with your intuition, cultivate empathy, and allow yourself to flow with life’s experiences. Moving away from a focus on practicality, control, or rigid routines, your growth lies in surrendering to the unknown, trusting your inner guidance, and exploring the realms of imagination and spiritual understanding. This journey involves embracing the mystical aspects of life, nurturing your creative spirit, and developing a deep sense of connection with others and the divine.
Signs you're out of alignment:
Feeling overly rigid or stuck in routines, with little room for creativity or intuition;
Overemphasizing logic and practicality, while neglecting emotional or spiritual needs;
Struggling with anxiety, stress, or frustration due to a need for control or certainty.
Tips to get into alignment:
Engage in creative activities such as art, music, or writing that allow you to express your inner world;
Practice meditation, mindfulness, or other spiritual practices that help you connect with your intuition and the divine;
Allow yourself to let go of strict plans and embrace the flow of life, trusting that things will unfold as they should.
Activities to get more into alignment: Practicing meditation or yoga, engaging in creative arts like painting or music, exploring spirituality, volunteering in compassionate services, spending time near water, practicing forgiveness, letting go of rigid routines, writing poetry or journaling, studying mysticism or dreams, engaging in intuitive practices like tarot or astrology.
#astrology#sidereal astrology#tropical astrology#astro notes#vedic astrology#astro observations#astro community#north node#alignment#purpose#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces#spirituality#astrology placements#astro posts#astronotes#astrology notes
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Squeeze Me, I Squeak!
While your interactions with Lieutenant Riley started out cold and tense, he's been warming up to your secondary specialty. Apparently, you make for a great stress-toy. (In which Ghost is a brat with authority, but you don't mind. You're a bit of a brat too.)
Original AO3 Link (I posted this a million years ago to AO3 and it was my first ever COD fic, inspired by a Discord chat and Badjhur audios. I figured it's about time I added it to the Tumblr masterlist for ease.)
Content: Dom/Sub Dynamics, Fraternization (therefore power imbalance), Medical Care (non-descriptive), Body Piercings, Safe/Sane/Consensual Intimacy
It starts with one simple catalyst: your cheeks.
You’ve been with the 141 for over half a dozen missions now. Three bullet grazes, two concussions, four sprains, and one nasty cold into your assignment under Captain Price, and quite pleased to be there. He’s a good leader, trustworthy and steadfast, a bastion of experience and skill shielding your unconventional squad from red tape and repercussion.
Time is a little more fluid for you as the combat medic. You’re awake about twice as long as you’re ever asleep. Anxiety tugs you from fitful rest to check on your patients – your boys – if any of them are laid up with more than a dislocation. It makes the days long, nights longer, and you’ve lost track of how many calendar months since you’ve officially been with the task force.
Long enough, though, that you feel like you’ve got a handle on your squad and their personalities.
Captain Price is a grump about medical care. He understands the necessity, but resents the paperwork, time, materials, energy that goes into it. He’s gracious to let you fuss (within reason) and you’re gracious to ignore his old man grumbling. And the cigars.
Gaz is an absolute peach. Sits still, asks for painkillers when he needs them, follows care instructions. The worst he does is whine, but that’s only for the silly little injuries and the occasional flu shot. He’s respectful, sometimes a little bashful, and friendly. He makes you feel welcome, bought you your first drink with the squad after a mission, and generally is a sweetheart.
Soap is fun. A bit rambunctious and fidgety on your table, but he tries, at least. Not as careful as you’d like him to be. He’ll give you a sheepish smile whenever you fuss that he’s pulling his stitches or straining a healing joint. He whines like a banshee over everything except the serious wounds, but paradoxically has to be strong-armed into painkillers for anything. He reminds you a bit of a husky.
His brand of friendliness comes with jokes and teasing, flirtations that he’s careful to never take too far. You’ll indulge him in return sometimes, especially if he’s having a rough go of it, but it’s all in good fun. A lot of your downtime is spent in his and Gaz’s company, chatting about anything and everything, playing video games, or trying (the operative word here) to read. He’s also, unfortunately, the one who came up with your nickname.
Then there’s the lieutenant. You call him “the lieutenant” because you get the impression that he’d toss you out a window if you dared even utter his call sign.
The 141 isn’t your first assignment; you’ve been a combat medic for long enough that you’ve seen the full range of patients in the military. You’re no stranger to the puffed-up hyper-masculine men that practically resent your specialization.
“Like they think I’ll take their Man Card just for getting a plaster,” you’d once commiserated with a fellow medic.
The lieutenant goes a step beyond that. The best you can get out of him on a good day are one-word answers. A good day is if he’s hauling someone else to you. When it’s him that needs the care, well… you two often don’t meet eye to eye. And not just because he’s roughly the size (and build) of a tank.
On your third mission with him, he suffered a knife wound to the hip. You hadn’t been able to judge how deep it was between his gear and his evasiveness and you’d lost your temper.
“Lieutenant Riley, stand fucking still,” you snapped.
“The fuck did you just say to me?” he snarled.
And oh, you regretted every word you’d ever spoken in that moment. Had felt, with some certainty, that enemy combatants were not going to be what did you in. Cursed Price a little too, blaming him for this somehow.
But you were tired and a little pissed and had about a million other things to do that weren’t chase after your lieutenant.
“I said standing fucking still,” you dared repeat, raising your voice.
“I’ll have you booked with insubordination so fast, your fucking head will spin,” he growled.
“Medical treatment outranks everyone, sir,” you snapped back, just as fast. You were already snapping gloves on; he was finally still, after all, even if it was to yell at you. “So if anyone can be written up, it’s you.”
“Lass—” Soap tried, but you were already ducking down, eyes narrowed and gauze in hand.
You were relieved to see that it wasn’t too bad. Slathered it with antibiotic and pinched it closed with butterflies, then straightened. It was done in under a minute and you were even more annoyed than before.
“All that for fucking what,” you grumbled to yourself. Not quietly enough, apparently.
“That’ll do,” the lieutenant barked.
The unholy burning in his eyes informed you that you’d pushed your luck far, far enough.
You shut up and skittered off, had not been written up for insubordination, but received a well-meant ‘cool it’ from Price afterwards.
And Lieutenant Riley was… well, he was himself.
He doesn’t make you bitch at him anymore, though – and you would be lying if you weren’t a bit proud of that. By no means is he jumping to get treated, but he comes to you for the serious injuries and obliges if you manage to catch the non-fatal stuff.
It’s not that you hold it against him. Medics are a sore spot for a lot of people, and Lieutenant Riley is more private than the average soldier. He’s never actively rude, at least, apart from that one spat. Gruff and short maybe, but not mean. And you’re quite happy to have that, at least.
Besides, he watches out for you in the field, where it matters. Has literally hauled you to safety by your straps more than once. Ensures you get into exfil before him. You’ve even caught him giving you a quick, assessing check that all your gear was secure and ready.
You and he bicker at each other still, and you don’t always come out victorious. There have been plenty of instances that he’s just marched away from you, long legs carrying him to some dark corner when he won’t entertain your nagging. Still, there’s growing respect between you two, you sense. He’s a solid CO, if much different from Price, confident and competent without being arrogant. And, well, he can be a bit rude (“abrupt” you demur to Soap, who cackles) but not disrespectful.
On his end, you think things change when he gets injured. Again. You don’t know exactly what’s happened, only that he was a little too close to an explosion. The edges of his balaclava are burnt, one damning edge melted to the skin of his neck. The real issue is the deep laceration that’s sliced through the fabric. From what you can see, it starts behind his ear and slashes around his temple to take a sizable chip from the edge of his hard mask.
His bell has been rung enough that he’s silent when Soap drops him on your cot.
You do a concussion test – thank whatever higher powers there might be that he passes – and reassess the situation. He’s bleeding, he’s burnt, his mask is a hindrance. Most other medics would pry the thing off and treat him regardless of his feelings on the matter.
But you’re not any other medic, you’re the 141’s medic. You have candy for Gaz and fidget toys for Soap and carry nicotine patches or gum for Price. Lieutenant Riley hardly even pulls his mask up to drink in front of you still. He doesn’t trust easily (maybe not at all) but you’ve managed not to fuck up this far and you won’t start now.
“Need to take the skull off,” you inform him, “the balaclava can stay.”
His shoulders drop just the smallest micro-fraction. You’ve made the right choice.
He lets you pull the hard mask away, eyes flickering to yours when you set it within his reach. You blink at him, just once, trying to convey that for all your differences and squabbles before, you’re his squad-mate, his medic, and you’re on his side.
Then you turn to the bleeding.
“Going to cut a bigger hole,” you warn.
You don’t know if he’s listening, if he cares, if he’d prefer you to be quiet. You do this for Gaz and Soap, and you’ll do it for him until he tells you otherwise.
The surgical scissors make a perfect, neat line through the fabric. Blood stains dirty blond hair beneath your gloves, flattening the curls. It’s a nasty wound, deep enough that it’ll need stitches. You tell him as much as you clean it, efficient without being rough. You don’t coddle your boys; they don’t need it. The kindest thing you can do is always to just get it over with.
As you numb his skin and prep the sutures, you begin explaining the care instructions. It’ll cut down the amount of time he’ll have to hang around after you’ve finished treatment.
You fall quiet as you start stitching him up, bottom lip between your teeth to focus on speed and accuracy. On your little rolling stool, you’re trying not to loom over his prone form. Plenty of soldiers have bad reactions to being leaned over like this, and you’d expect it from any of the 141.
Your hand is starting to cramp by the time you get to the sharp cheekbone where the injury ends, but it’s done – possibly in record time. As you sit back to check your work, you catch his eye. His gaze is so heavy that you’re shocked you didn’t feel its weight this whole time. There’s an odd glint to it, the calmest you’ve ever seen from him. Especially on your medical cot.
“All good, sir?” you ask.
“Affirmative.”
“The burn now.”
You don’t touch him, just direct his head at a good angle to treat his neck. You have to numb that too, see more of the tension drain from him when it takes effect. Christ, you hadn’t even noticed. He’s like a statue sometimes, bearing wounds that would have most other people in shambles.
“Burns are the worst,” you agree. “I hate getting them, hate treating them.”
“There anything you like treating?” he grumbles.
You hum. “Common cold. All you big boys get sleepy and nasally and pathetic.”
There’s a little puff of air that you recognize from comm banter with Soap – he’s amused. You’ve managed to get something like a laugh out of him. Buoyed by this, you proceed with the delicate process of treating melted fabric.
“Pathetic, eh? Tell Johnny you said that.”
“I already told him when he got sick,” you gloat. “He pouted. Might have a picture of it somewhere.”
When you chance to look away from your work, you catch his eye again, peering at you from his peripheral. You flash a grin – a little goofy from the high of a positive reaction – and then turn back.
“That legal?” he asks. “Pictures of patients.”
You arch an eyebrow, knowing he’ll see it. “Are you going to lecture me about GDPR, Lieutenant Riley?”
“Not if it doesn’t become my problem.”
You chuckle a little – heartened by your progress and by his unusual talkativeness. “Hasn’t yet,” you point out.
More likely to be Price’s problem, anyway. Probably.
He lets you fall silent again to concentrate. Despite the severity, the affected area is smaller than you initially thought. It’ll be painful and scar like hell, but no skin grafts are necessary. You report this with obvious relief – good news all around as far as you’re concerned.
When you’re finally done, you scoot your chair back and turn to his (heavily redacted) chart, scribbling out the diagnosis and treatment. As you’re signing your initials, he calls for you by last name, tugging your gaze up.
“Was there something else, Lieutenant?” you ask, already scanning him for other injuries.
“Need one more thing from you.”
You hum in question, folding his chart over. His hand comes up, still gloved.
And then he takes your cheek between thumb and forefinger. And pinches.
Your brain spits static, eyes going wide in shock and confusion. It takes you a beat to respond, and then only because his fingers tighten to the point it starts to ache.
“Ow, Lieutenant—” you complain, still too surprised to really snap, one eye closing to express discomfort.
He releases you, staring at the spot he just grabbed. It’s probably already turning red.
“Anyone ever tell you,” he drawls, slow and measuring, “how round your cheeks are?”
Now you’re red for a different reason. You rub at the skin and scrunch your nose, unsuccessfully telling yourself that you’re not pouting like you joked Soap did.
“No,” you huff, “because most people aren’t dumb enough to say that to their medic.”
Your brain still isn’t working right because there’s no way you’d be implying that Lieutenant Riley is dumb if it was. The most personable you two have gotten before now was him buying you a drink after a mission, but he’d been buying everyone else a drink at the time.
“Not afraid of you, Squeaks.”
“I’m aware, Lieutenant.”
You’re hoping he’ll drop it, a little confused but also a little… flattered? It’s difficult to parse what you’re feeling when he’s still staring at you with those dark, glittering eyes. Not that you’re looking. No, definitely not. In fact, you are doing your damnedest not to look at his eyes. Or his face.
Which is why you notice him tugging his glove off. And then reaching for you – for your face – again.
“Hey—” you start, but he’s already squeezing, just before the point you’d fussed last time.
“Want me to stop?” he asks.
… No.
“Want to know what you’re doin’,” you deflect, brows furrowing.
Why are you letting him do this? You shouldn’t let him do this. It’s not that it hurts. It’s just… principle. Military isn’t an especially touchy-feely cuddly career field. Soap and Gaz are fairly tactile, true, but not… like this. But, well, maybe you’ve missed it. This. Touches like this. Haven’t seen friends you’re close to in a long time, don’t have this kind of relationship with your family. Haven’t had a partner in… a depressingly long time, and even then, it always took a while to get to this level of casual intimacy – if you got there at all.
“Thought that was obvious,” the lieutenant replies.
The other hand, still gloved, finds your opposite cheek and pinches that one too. Your eyes are forced narrow as the skin is manipulated, bunched up. You make a noise in the back of your throat, tilting your head to accommodate.
“’S not,” you mumble. “Who are you, my auntie?”
“’M scarier than your auntie.”
You snort, edges of your mouth tugging up despite how he’s pulling your cheeks.
“Never met my auntie, then,” you giggle.
Noticing your grin, he lets one go, only to gently crush both in his ungloved hand. And god, it’s so big that he could span your jaw from middle finger to thumb. Instead, he smooshes your face until your mouth puckers. You must look like a fish – a dumbstruck, awkward fish.
“Sir,” you slur out. He squeezes a little tighter, cutting off your ability to speak. Good thing, probably; you’re not sure what you would have said next.
“Like a little stress ball you are,” he muses, almost to himself.
That does prompt a laugh from you, the absurdity of the entire situation making you a little light- headed. Here is your huge, terrifying lieutenant, practically more legend than man, squishing your cheeks like a particularly long-suffering but beloved pet. You, the team medic, the person who pokes and prods at them more often than not. The one person in the 141 that you always thought he barely tolerated.
“Next time I’m on the edge of tearin’ my hair out, I’ll just come to you for a squeeze.”
He emphasizes this with one last, extra scrunch that makes you humph in mild discomfort. But when he finally lets you go, you grin and shake your head, somehow more amused than annoyed or offended. It seems like you finally might be growing on your lieutenant. That’s nothing to sneeze at.
“Try it and you’ll lose a finger, sir,” you tease.
“Like to see you try it, Squeaks.”
Your mistake was thinking that Simon “Ghost” Riley makes idle threats. (Not that you think that he was threatening you; if he was you know you’d know it.)
He’s been out training recruits by himself – Gaz and Price on a mission, Soap laid up with a twisted knee – a task that already tends to irritate him. Add to that, the weather is fucking miserable. Hot as hell but also a little rainy, meaning that it’s humid as a swamp. Probably has been making his stitches and burn itch beneath the mask.
When he storms into the common room at the end of the day, you and Soap exchange looks. A lot of assassin-soldier to be barreling into a small room – and making a beeline straight for you.
“Uh, sir?” you yelp. Consider a tactical retreat, but even that brief deliberation is too long. He crowds you against the counter you were making tea at and grabs your face.
He still has his gloves on, rough and uncomfortable on your skin. You wrinkle your nose, try to pull back, but his grip is too tight, so you just submit yourself to whatever is happening.
Apparently, “de-stress” is happening.
His smooshes your face just like he had in the infirmary, and some of the tension in his shoulders drops. You blink as his grip relaxes, then tenses. And then again. And again. Again, again, again. It dawns on you that he’s literally treating your cheeks like his own personal stress ball.
You should be insulted. Outraged. You’re not a toy.
“All good, LT?” Soap ventures. Sounds like he’s defusing a bomb.
“Fine, Johnny,” Ghost replies, almost absently. “Long day.”
“Recruits bein’ idjets, then?”
“Fuckin’ muppets,” he agrees, less heated than he’d normally be.
Huh, you think. Is this… actually working?
You make eye contact with Johnny. He looks more blindsided than you, a bit like he’s witnessing your murder instead of being accosted by your strained lieutenant.
“Couldn’t find their way out of a paper bag with a map.”
He squeezes a little tighter as he says it, prompting a noise of protest from you. It doesn’t hurt yet, but your teeth are rubbing against soft tissue. He eases up again and meets your eyes, half-lidded and a touch warmer than you’re used to. The skin around his eyes eases bit by bit, and the line of his jaw beneath the balaclava looks relaxed.
You settle then, resting your weight back against the counter. Nothing untoward is happening, just Ghost being… honestly, a little weird. It’s a nice thought actually, that your big scary LT is a weirdo. The kind of weirdo that would rather squish his medic than a stress ball.
Makes sense in a way, with how he’s always covered up and keeping a safe distance (physically and emotionally) between himself and others. Probably touch starved. Not sure why he’s picked you, but you’re happy that he did.
After a few minutes you pat his wrist, a gentle double tap. Like sparring. He lets you go.
“I’m making tea if you’d like a cup?” you offer.
“Yeah, Sergeant. Earl Grey, left side of the cabinet.”
“Yessir.”
You can feel Soap squinting.
“Since when are you two so chummy, eh?” he asks.
“Since always,” Ghost replies as if Soap is an idiot.
With your back turned, he can’t see the grin that would surely give you away. “Yeah, Soap, where’ve you been?”
“Och, now you’re taking the piss.”
You hand Ghost his tea and sit down to let Soap rant.
It has become a habit. Ghost gets annoyed at recruits, paperwork, bad intel – your cheeks get squished like it’s a family reunion. He starts removing his gloves at least. Warm, calloused hands are much more comfortable than textured gloves. You’re starting to look forward to it, even.
It’s not a long process. He’ll come find you, smoosh up your face until you wrinkle your nose, and then continues with his day, shoulders looser than when he appeared. You usually complain, whine that you’re in the middle of something, that he didn’t even warn you, that his grip is too tight. But you never push him away or pull back. And he always honors your little tap-taps if you need to be freed before he’s ready to let go.
By this point, everyone on the team has seen it. Soap no longer brings it up, but sometimes informs you when Ghost appears with that Look about him. Gaz floundered the first time he saw it, stuttering and stumbling until Ghost told him to spit it out or shut up. Once after that, he asked if he could squeeze you for stress relief. You had to make Ghost let go from how tight his hand went. Gaz didn’t ask again.
Price, shockingly enough, takes in the situation, then settles you with a nonjudgmental look.
“Solid, Sergeant?”
“Yessir,” you manage around your pressed cheeks, adding a thumbs up.
“As you were, then.”
And that was that.
Of course, with jobs like yours, some days are more stressful than others. Some days are hell on Earth. This mission wasn’t quite that, but it did go to shit in a handbasket, and you’re ragged by the end of it. Gaz dislocated a shoulder, Soap is concussed. Price has a nasty road rash across one arm that he was a bit of an ass about tending – not that you’d say as much.
Even you are scuffed up. A hostile split your lip with a nasty jab that caught you off guard. (Ghost, right behind you at the time, stabbed the guy with vicious prejudice. You’re trying not to be flattered and trying not to think about what it means that you’re failing.) Besides that, you’re exhausted, dehydrated, and you’re pretty sure you hurt your back trying to stabilize Soap at some point.
Ghost is the only one that made it out unscathed as far as you can tell. You also know that that’s more likely to put him in a mood than if he’d suffered alongside you all. Cold and detached as he might seem, he doesn’t like seeing anyone in the 141 hurt on his watch.
You’re beside Soap, making sure he doesn’t fall asleep on the transport back to base, but you can feel Ghost’s eyes on you. You make eye contact across the aisle. His shoulders are tight, arms crossed, hands clenching and unclenching. He’s too disciplined to tap his foot or bounce his leg, but you know he would be if he was anyone else.
When you land, you send Soap to the infirmary for observation. Price decides on debrief after breakfast the next morning and slinks off to his office. Gaz follows after Soap to get painkillers and a sling. You shoot Ghost a long, tired look.
“Can’t be a stress ball today,” you tell him, “my mouth hurts.”
“I know.”
But still, he’s standing too close to you at the armory where you’ve returned your weapons. His shoulders are bent slightly towards you, hands twitching at his sides. In all honesty, you wish that you could do your usual destress routine – because as much as he seems to enjoy having something/someone to squeeze, you enjoy having to sit still for a few moments of physical contact just as much.
And after thinking Soap cracked his skull, Gaz lost his arm, your captain got skinned, you need to decompress. And you need to do it with Ghost, who saved each and every one of you today.
“C’mon,” you say and, taking a chance, grab his hand.
He hums in question, but allows you to lead, careful not to grip too tight. The bones there are too delicate, and you need them in working order as their medic. He can’t be so rough with them.
You practically drag him to the common room and put on the kettle. Understanding, Ghost preps the mugs and sachets of preferred tea. When the water is hot enough, you each make your tea, then tug him to the couch. You direct him into the corner – and it’s only then that you hesitate.
Instinct is to climb into his lap. He’s a big man and you want to be cradled, but you also suspect the weight and warmth of another body would be soothing to him too. Instead, you clamber up as close to him as you can get, wedging your shoulder against his rubs and encouraging his arm around you.
It seems like he hesitates for a moment too. This is the most contact you two have ever had, regardless of how close he usually stands when he’s squeezing your face. Right now, you’re pressed together all down one side, your thigh overlapping his a little. After a moment, though, he releases a long breath and curls his arm around you. His hand settles naturally on your hip.
It’s not long after that that the squeezing starts.
He's still got his gloves on and the skin on your hip is sensitive, usually hidden under layers of clothes, but you’re too snuggled in to disturb the arrangement now. Between the heat he radiates like a furnace, and your steaming tea, you’re quickly cozy and spaced out. The rhythm of his hand kneading plush flesh is soothing, something to drift back to while your mind goes blissfully blank of anything but safe, warm, comfy, quiet.
At some point, your mostly empty cup is plucked from your hand. You mumble a thank you and curl in closer, both legs over his lap now. His other hand rests on your lower thigh, just above your knee, and begins squeezing there too. Almost a massage, if not for the near-rough way he grips you.
“Like a cat,” you mumble, head lolling onto his shoulder.
“Hm?”
“Cat making biscuits.”
There’s a huff of air. You smile faintly and tilt your head away from the suddenly too-bright lights of the common room. Don’t even realize you’ve tucked into his neck until he rubs his jaw over the top of your head.
“’S nice,” you whisper.
He hums. You think it might be agreement. Must be, Ghost wouldn’t be entertaining this if he didn’t. It’s a reassuring thought to drift off with, knowing that no matter what you want, he’ll never do something just to be nice.
You wake the next morning horizontal, something too firm to be a pillow under your head. When you sit up a little, Ghost’s dark eyes are peering at you, heavy as usual, but not as sharp. His chest rumbles beneath your chin in greeting.
“Mine or yours?” you mumble.
“Mine.”
You hum, too sleepy to let the implications of such a big gesture make you anxious right now.
“You’re a bad pillow,” you say instead.
It’s a lie. He’s a wonderful pillow. Jacked as he is, all that muscle is so plush and cushiony when it’s relaxed like this. Helps, also, that he’s still so warm.
“Slept on me just fine,” he grunts. “Drooled a little, too.”
“Did not.”
“Explain the wet spot on my tits then.”
You say the first thing that comes to mind. “Lactating.”
“You’re a freak.”
“Stones in glass houses, sir.”
You close your eyes again for a moment, enjoying the dark room and heat beneath you. The best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long while, honestly. Especially with so much of the team injured.
There’s a tug at your hair, gentler than you usually get from Ghost.
“Get the fuck up, Squeaks,” he gruffs without any heat. In fact, he sounds like he’d rather you didn’t. “Need to piss and eat.”
“At the same time?” you tease. You’d sound more scandalized if you weren’t still half asleep.
“You’re fucking disgusting.”
He rolls you onto the mattress and pushes himself up.
“Meet back here in fifteen. Fresh clothes, fresh face.”
“Gonna squish it?” you ask.
“Maybe later, see how the day goes.” He pinches one of your cheeks anyway. Still rougher than most people would be, but for him it’s downright tender. You try not to lean into it, not sure if you succeed. Don’t think either of you cares, really.
You lay there for another moment, listening to him bustle around his quarters, getting new clothes it sounds like.
“How copy, sergeant?”
“Solid, sir.”
“Fifteen.”
“Yessir.”
You haul yourself up and trudge out of his room for a shower. Gonna need all fifteen of those minutes.
Breakfast is a quiet but pleasant affair. Gaz is using his sling and sore as all hell, but in high spirits. Soap is exhausted from two-hour wakeups and the sensitivity the concussion has left him with. The painkillers are helping, and despite all that, he’s in a decent (if slightly subdued) mood.
You snatch up a couple of dry muffins and an orange juice for Price before heading to debrief, plopping it all on his desk when you enter his office. Your efforts are rewarded with a fond smile.
Gaz and Soap take the two single chairs, probably afraid of falling asleep on the couch. That’s where you and Ghost end up, you pressed up against the arm and him… right next to you.
Not that you’re complaining. His thigh pressed against yours is a nice comfort. Reminiscent of how he made you feel the night before. A reminder that he’s here, that he’s solid and safe while you all recount the mission from the day before. If Price is shocked by you two practically nested up together, he doesn’t show it.
Somewhere along the way, your hand reaches for something to fiddle with. You’re not as restless as Soap, but you like something to keep busy while you’re thinking or anxious. Usually you tear up the inside of your mouth biting your lips, but you don’t want to aggravate the healing split. Your fingers land on the pocket of Ghost’s cargos. The material is thick, the stitching an interesting texture, and the pockets have snaps that are quiet enough to play with during debrief.
Ghost lets you fidget in peace, only giving you a slight nod when you glance at him to check. His arm is resting along the couch behind you, and you can feel his fingers twisting into your loose hair. Fair exchange, you figure, and settle in.
There’s a brief call with Laswell to discuss next steps. You listen, but not closely. You’re just a medical sergeant after all. Your opinion is considered when offered, but you’re not much of a strategist or tactician. Mostly, you go where you're directed, do as you're told, and keep everyone in one piece as best you can.
When it’s over, Soap helps haul you off the couch while Ghost stands, clipping his thigh pocket closed again.
“Good to see you two getting along,” Price calls as you’re leaving.
You glance over your shoulder, catch the smirk on his face, and stick out your tongue. And then promptly bolt, lest you be reprimanded for insubordination. It’s a common threat in the 141; you’re not sure if anyone has actually been written up for it outside of a mission. You don’t want to be the one to find out, though.
Soap cackles at you, Gaz calls you chicken shit. Ghost ruffles your hair and steers you towards his office.
“Oi, where are you two off to?” Gaz asks.
“Paperwork,” Ghost replies shortly.
News to you, but sure. Some company would be nice while you fill out forms. That becomes mildly more difficult when he plops you into his lap, but you make do. Ghost keeps his office cold – all those layers, you figure – and the chair across from his desk is purposefully uncomfortable to discourage lingering. His broad thighs make a much better, warmer seat. The fact that he circles an arm around your waist, hugging you like a kid with a teddy bear is just a bonus. For all that, you’d figure out how to do reports on water.
You two should probably talk about this, or something. There are regulations or codes of conduct prohibiting this sort of behavior. Never mind that the interpersonal lines (the ones you actually care about) are starting to blur. But well, you don’t have a problem with all this, and you wouldn’t be breathing if he did. So, well, there’s not much to talk about, is there?
“Hey, LT?”
“Mm.”
You watch him sign the bottom of a report, his signature an efficient and jagged thing, somehow still elegant. Like watching him practice with his knives. He flexes his hand when it’s done. You two have been at it for a while now. He hasn’t said a word, but you know Ghost despises paperwork. You could both use a break.
“You ever seen Halloween?”
“The horror movie?” He pauses, thinks about it. “Yeah.”
“The next one is going to take place in the summer. Guess he’ll be Michael Perspires.”
He goes still behind you. “What.”
“He’s gotten a job as an electrician. Michael Wires.”
You keep your face forward and down, pretending to work, trying to swallow back hysterical giggles.
“Squeaks…”
“He’s into arson now as well. Michael Fires.”
His arm tightens around your waist. You wish you could see his face, but you know you’ll break if you look. “Shut the fuck up.”
“He didn’t tell the truth on his resume. Michael Liars.”
“If you make another shitty Michael Myers pun, I swear to god—”
“You don’t like them?” you ask, grin so wide it hurts. “I’m going to Michael Cry-ers.”
“God fucking dammit, Squeaks.”
You burst into laughter that is quickly cut short by his arm constricting like a snake. Even with your air supply diminished, wheezing a bit, you kick your feet in delight.
“G-Guess… guess you’re…” you struggle to get it out between the lack of oxygen and your giggles. “Guess you’re M-Michael Tires of this joke.”
“I’m going to make you regret breathing at our next sparring session.”
And oh, you believe him. Your LT doesn’t make idle threats. But you’re telling yourself that it’s so worth it this time. Soap is going to give you a fucking medal for this. You know, assuming Ghost doesn’t snipe you when you try to tell the story.
You’re still cackling, but it turns to squeals when you feel sharp pressure on your shoulder.
He’s biting you.
“L-LT!” you gasp, scrabbling to push at his forehead without dislodging his mask. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop!”
He growls, the sound burning through you, straight to the pit of your stomach. You choose to ignore that in exchange for the oddly ticklish sensation of him gnawing through your shirt.
Knowing by now that you won’t be free until he’s ready, you just try to sit still and not spur him on further. After a moment, he unlocks his jaw and speaks in your ear, voice low but unmistakably amused.
“Medic, stress ball, comedian, chew toy – anything you can’t do, Sergeant?” he snarks.
You scrunch your nose at this new designation. “I am not a chew toy.”
“Seem pretty chewy to me,” he muses, sinking his teeth in again. You bark out reactive laughter and squirm, but his hold hasn’t loosened a bit and you’re trapped against him.
“LT,” you complain like usual. “You’re going to leave a mark.”
He doesn’t respond verbally, but you feel his teeth dig in a little harder. Well, that’s new. You still don’t push him away, a not-so-small or secret part of you pleased by the idea of him leaving a bruise. It wouldn’t even be visible. Just something to remind you of the trust your lieutenant has in you, in the bond you two have formed, unorthodox as it is.
You hand him a bottle of water when he finally releases you, to sooth his undoubtedly dry mouth. There’s a wet patch on your shirt (and probably your underwear) but you ignore it to return to your reports. He seems a little less reluctant to join you now, pleasingly.
You’re not so sure about the “chew toy” thing, but you definitely seem to be an effective stress relief.
You’re having a great day. No one is injured, you’re caught up on paperwork. You pinned both Soap and Gaz during sparring earlier, earning a proud nod from Ghost and Price. There were pudding cups at lunch, and you’ve made plans with the rest of the team to watch a movie in the common room tonight. Even your antisocial LT agreed to come.
In fact, he’s the first one there when you arrive in the early evening. You chirp a hello, heading for the pantry for popcorn. Soap and Gaz can’t be trusted to make it without setting off the fire alarms.
Ghost hums in return, but he seems content to scroll on his phone, saving his energy for socializing. You don’t mind his silence, never do. Not like he can chat when he’s biting you like a teething puppy. And he has been. A lot. His new favorite form of stress relief, apparently, apart from squishing your cheeks like usual.
If there’s privacy for it, his teeth have been imprinting your arms, shoulders, even your hands in perfect pinpricked circles. He’s not any gentler about it than he is smooshing up your face, and a couple times now you’ve discovered bruises later on. You suspect that’s his aim, especially when he’s more aggravated than stressed. A way to release aggression without wasting bullets at the range or beating the stuffing out of someone in the ring.
You don’t mind, no matter how you complain aloud. It was a sudden step up in intimacy, but you like the feeling of his teeth on you. A way to get that soothing moment of forced stillness without losing the ability to speak, eat, or look around. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the mark either. Feels like a claim, one you’re not sure is actually being made – but you’re allowed to dream.
That said, Ghost is a bastard about it. If you thought he was pushy before, pinching your cheeks at inopportune times, the biting could almost be classified as a nuisance. Several times now, someone has walked into the common room to your forearm between Ghost’s jaws. You’ve lost count of how many conversations with Soap or Gaz have been interrupted by your lieutenant’s canines sinking into your shoulder or the meat of your thumb, tongue swiping excess saliva from bare skin.
You’re ruminating on this as your fellow sergeants filter in, joking and laughing about something stupid the recruits did earlier.
Ghost has hardly looked up from his phone, only jerks his head in acknowledgement when they greet him. His shoulders are loose; he’s relaxed. You know better than to mistake it for being unaware of the environment, but… well, if there were ever a time for payback…
You leave the popcorn to finish in the microwave and stroll over to the couch. To your delight, Ghost shuffles a little to make room for you, an obvious invitation to cuddle up. It’s almost enough to distract you from your mission. Almost.
You perch on the edge of the cushion, hook a thumb under the edge of his shirt. The break in routine draws his attention but doesn’t seem to raise any alarms. He flicks his gaze up from the screen to catch your eyes. You lock gazes, tug the fabric up just the tiniest sliver. Then dart down and blow a deafening raspberry into the toned skin of his stomach.
There’s a moment of dead silence. Then you scramble up and bolt, yelping when you hear the heavy thump of boots behind you.
“Squeaks, you little shit!” he snarls, Manchester accent thicker than usual. And he gives Soap shit.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you lie, revealed by your breathless giggles.
“I’ll make you sorry!”
You believe him.
You skitter around Price, calling a frantic “hi, sir” as you stumble to keep your footing. Ghost doesn’t even bother with pleasantries, solely focused on getting ahold of you. Your only saving grace is being able to take corners faster than him, but his long legs eat distance like nothing and it’s only two hallways later that you’re snatched right off your feet.
You squeal, not sure if it’s in terror or delight, as he hauls you up and over one broad shoulder.
“Ghost, wait no, I didn’t mean it!”
“Sure fucking seemed to,” he growls, manhandling a better grip on you.
You put up a bit of a struggle, but there's no question who would win even if you really did fight him. Instead, you press against his chest and arms, laughing as his fingertips dig roughly into your hips and thighs and waist.
“Earning your nickname today,” he mocks as he lugs you back to the common room.
When you arrive, Soap groans in dismay at your failure, Gaz taunts you for thinking you could get away with your stunt. Price just shakes his head, playing at exasperated but unable to hide his fondness. Ghost all but tosses you onto the couch and before you can scramble up, flops on top of you. All the breath is forced from your lungs with a little oof, feeling a bit like those animals that can flatten themselves to squeeze into small crevices.
“LT, I can’t breathe,” you whine. “You’re heavy.”
The cushions on the couch aren’t luxurious by any means, but they’re forgiving enough that you can, in fact, breathe. It’s just a little more difficult than usual. Not difficult enough to tap out, though. You like the weight of him on you.
“Should have thought about that before being a little shit.”
You grumble; don’t really have an argument for that but unwilling to cede the point.
“Oi, you two done?” Gaz calls. “I wanna watch the movie.”
Price snorts. Soap, angel that he is, offers you the bowl of popcorn.
“No one told you to wait, sergeant,” Ghost replies, bland.
“Yeah,” you second, muffled and admittedly pathetic sounding. “Takes you five minutes to figure out the sound anyway.”
“We all know you’re going to put the subtitles on, don’t know why the volume matters,” Soap chimes in.
“It’s only for the Captain’s sake,” Gaz defends.
“Now what are you implying, Garrick?” Price asks, silky and dangerous.
You snuggle in happily, enjoying the moment of peace and companionship. No shooting, no bleeding, no nightmares. Just the five of you, alive and healthy, enjoying this little family they’ve built and brought you into.
You don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep until the pressure is gone, Ghost wedging his arms between your lax body and the couch. It’s cold without him as a personal blanket, and you curl into his arms with a discontent noise.
“Atta girl, Squeaks. I got you,” he rumbles.
You crack an eye open to check on everyone else by instinct. Gaz and Soap are leaning on each other, lightly snoring. It looks like Price is about to rouse them as well, but he shoots you and Ghost an especially soft look.
“Taking this one to bed, sir.”
“Be good to our girl, Lieutenant,” Price nods.
“As good as she is to us,” Ghost agrees.
You’re half-sure that you’re dreaming, but you smile at them both before tucking in and falling asleep again.
The next morning starts in Ghost’s bed, a place you find yourself often enough now that you recognize it as quickly as your own. You’re all tangled up in each other, more than usual. There are fingers in your hair, scraping across your scalp. You could purr it feels so good, pressing your face into Ghost’s chest to let him get a new spot.
“Didn’t even make it halfway through the movie,” he teases.
“Seen it before.”
“Gaz is going to be cross.”
“He’ll understand – getting chased takes a lot of you.”
“Don’t make me chase you down, then.”
You snort. If you have any say in it, you’ll be instigating games like that much more. Something about the big scary Ghost dashing after you over a stupid little prank – and knowing that the worst you’ll get out of it is a forceful cuddle – is not the deterrent it should be.
Still, there’s a pattern to this little game of yours. You can’t admit that you enjoy the play.
“Not my fault you can’t take what you dish,” you reply, twisting to nip his chest through his shirt, as if to prove your point.
It’s sharper than you would be with anyone else. Ghost, though, hums low and rough in his throat.
“I’ve never done that bullshit you pulled last night,” he grumbles.
“Lack of imagination on your part.”
He huffs, pinches your cheek and chuckles when you whine in complaint, muttering that it’s too early for his shit.
“C’mon, Squeaks, up and at ‘em. Before Soap takes all the blueberry.”
“Yessir…” you groan.
Ghost has been away. Price sent him and Gaz off on a stealth assignment, something that Soap is less suited to. Not that he couldn’t do it if needed, but it’s more Gaz’s specialty, so Price sent him. Soap isn’t too bummed about it, though. He’s been wreaking havoc around base with you casually egging him on from the sidelines, feeding into his chaos without being directly involved.
Not that Price would see it that way if he caught wind. But he hasn’t, so you’re not in trouble yet.
You might be after this though.
One drink too many, Soap complaining that you always play it safe. And, to his credit, you do. He and Gaz are the troublemakers, you just like to watch and occasionally add your two cents to the explosive mix. Price has joked before that you’re the best behaved amongst the group, even over Ghost.
Not only are you the least experienced with combat, but you’re also the team medic. It often leaves you feeling like you have to maintain a certain level of decorum and responsibility alongside your officers. It’s no wonder that you try to stay on the straight and narrow – the occasional snippy comment aside.
But this is beyond anything you’ve dared.
Soap has had enough to point out the parlor down the street and dare you. You’ve had enough to be goaded into spitefully proving a point. If Gaz were here, he might be clever enough to dare Soap into something else to get him to back down. If Ghost were here, he’d scruff you both like unruly kittens and haul you back to base. If Price were here, you’d be running laps until you puke.
Instead, it’s just you and Soap. Ghost and Gaz aren’t due back for a week and half, Price is probably buried waist deep in paperwork as usual. And there’s no one to tell you not to.
And so Soap gets his nipples pierced and you get your tongue re-pierced, and you both wake up the next day a little hungover and a lot sore.
You consider taking it out but… well.
You kinda missed having it.
And you want to see how long it’ll take Ghost to notice if you use your discreet jewelry.
You give Soap painkillers for his nipples and promise to hook him up with a good jewelry store recommendation. Then you spend the rest of the day trying not to talk. The rest of the week, really. If anyone notices, they don’t mention it. Soap is always happy to talk for the both of you.
By the time Gaz and Ghost return, it hardly hurts anymore. Still healing, yes, but it only aches in the mornings now. You fit the flat-topped, clear ring into the piercing and go to meet the boys on the tarmac.
They exit the aircraft together, Gaz chatting about something and Ghost humoring him in characteristic silence. When the latter sees you, though, he makes a beeline. You let out a surprised but pleased noise as you’re scooped up, mask wedging into the space beneath your jaw to press against your neck.
“Welcome back, sir,” you manage, squeezing his shoulders.
He grunts in reply. You shoot Gaz a questioning look.
“It was slow going,” he explains, “And the guys on the transport back were, uh, chatty.”
Ah. Set on your feet again, his gloved hands rise to squish your face like usual.
“Do the thing,” he gruffs.
You wrinkle your nose. Partially out of embarrassment, and partially because he’ll see the piercing if you’re not careful.
“That captain is—”
“That’s an order, sergeant.”
You sigh. Then poke your tongue out as he smooshes your face further. He exhales like the first hit of nicotine for the day. You keep the jewelry hidden behind your teeth and are released a few seconds later.
“That’s the stuff,” he says.
“Christ, LT, don’t say it like that,” you complain.
Unsurprisingly, he ignores you, turning to Price.
“Debrief now?”
“If you and Gaz don’t need medical.”
They both shake their heads, and you make no secret that you’re pleased by this news.
As you head into the building, you find Ghost’s finger hooked into your belt loop, tugging you along to Price’s office. You don’t mention it, only arch an eyebrow when you catch his eye.
At the door, Price pauses, giving Ghost a long, exasperated look.
“You know she’s not actually a service animal, son?”
“The intel isn’t confidential.”
Price sighs, drags a hand down his face. “Suppose not. Get the fuck in, then, Squeaks.”
You get the fuck in.
As usual, Ghost stands, and you’re obliged to stand with him. In front of him, actually, his chin settling on top of your head while his hands settle on your shoulders, squeezing and kneading at the muscle. You tune out most of the conversation, only here for Ghost’s sake, apparently.
Not that you mind. There’s a large, loud part of you that is glowing with the knowledge that he missed you so much.
When it’s over, he doesn’t even bother to stop at the mess hall. He picks you straight up and strides off to his quarters. You complain that he needs to eat, or at least drink water, but he doesn’t even deign your fussing with a response.
He closes and locks the door when you’re both inside, then tosses you on the bed. It smells overwhelmingly of him: metal, gunpowder, standard issue detergent, and something spicy. It’s a scent you’ve become intimately familiar with – could get addicted to, if you let yourself.
You settle in amongst the crisp sheets and thin pillows, Ghost sheds his tac gear like a second skin. When he’s down to his undershirt and boxers, barefoot on the cold ground, you open your arms.
He climbs over you as you giggle, then unapologetically drops all his weight. You make your usual little oof sound, suspecting that he likes it, and tilt your head so he can press his face (without the skull mask) into your shoulder.
“So how was it actually?” you ask.
“Gaz was antsy the whole time. Said he sensed you and Soap up to something without him.”
You snort, relieved that he can’t see the damning expression on your face right now.
“There isn’t anything to get up to when he’s not here causing it,” you lie.
“Don’t put anything past Soap, the crafty cunt.”
You grin, patting your hands lightly over his shoulder blades. “Nice alliteration.”
He hums, slowly going boneless beneath your rhythmless tapping.
“Mask,” he mutters.
It takes you a second to realize what he wants.
“You’re asking me to pull it up so you can bite me?” you scoff.
“Telling, not asking,” he grumbles.
“Oh for the love of…”
You do it anyway. It’s not long before you feel his teeth, always sharper than you expect, latch onto the base of your neck. You tilt your chin back to give him comfortable access, staring up at the ceiling. How often does he sit here after nightmares, staring at it? Does he do it even when you sleepover, clinging onto him like a koala?
You lay like that for a while, fingers finding the fine blond hair peeking out from his rolled balaclava and scritching. One of his hands wedges beneath himself to find your hip, squeezing you tight enough that his nails scrape across your pants.
“So what did you two get up to?” he asks, detaching eventually.
Your neck is aching pleasantly, mind drifting in peace, and you don’t realize what he’s asking at first.
“What?” you ask.
You try to suppress a shiver as his tongue drags over the saliva he left on your neck. This is a normal part of the process, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to the pleasure it sends down your spine.
“You and Soap,” he clarifies. “What did you do?”
“It was mostly Soap,” you deflect, forgoing any attempt at innocence.
He snorts. “My problem?”
You consider, humming. “Probably not.”
“Probably?”
You shrug. “Don’t leave me unattended if you don’t want paperwork.”
He nips sharply at the hinge of your jaw. “Didn’t want to. Price said you don’t have enough experience if things went to shit.”
You don’t know how to feel that Ghost would have preferred you on a mission with him. Even over Soap? You know he’s fond of you, but you didn’t realize it was enough to have you partnered with him on missions. It makes your chest warm and fluttery. The bastard.
“He’s right,” you say instead of something unforgivably sentimental.
“Imagine he’ll overlook that when he finds out about your body candy.”
You squeak, eyes closing in regret. Well, it was a nice life while it lasted.
“That fast?” you ask.
“Saw it as soon as you opened that pretty mouth,” he answers.
“It’s clear!”
“Thought I wouldn’t see a piece of plastic in your mouth, sergeant?”
You sigh, barely even noticing the bite he leaves on your collarbone. When he pushes his chest up to look at you, he’s half-lidded, almost lazy looking. But the corner of his mouth quirks up, just that slightest bit you’ve become hypervigilant of. Your hands slide from his shoulders and curl into the front of his shirt.
“How much trouble am I in?” you venture.
“A world of it,” he replies, voice pitching low and rough in a way that’s just not fair.
“Soap did worse,” you complain, not above throwing him under the bus. This is his fault anyway.
“Don’t care what Soap did. Care that you tried to hide it from me.”
He catches your chin between thumb and forefinger, gives it a little shake like a reprimand.
“Wasn’t hiding it,” you argue. “At least not from you. Would have told you by the end of the week if you hadn’t noticed.”
And you really would have. If Price hadn’t been present on the tarmac, you had half a mind to show it off immediately, excited to be breaking the rules.
Ghost hums, eyes roving your face – apparently to determine the truth of your confession.
“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” he warns.
But you know that tone of voice by now. You’re not off the hook yet.
“…Want me to take it out?” you try.
His eyes go from dark to pitch black. “No.”
Oh?
Oh.
“Want… to see it?”
He hums. Not quite confirmation, but close enough. You don’t even think before dropping your jaw, tongue rolling out over your bottom lip. He let out a short, hard breath. You see his jaw twitch.
Then he shifts.
His thumb lands on your tongue, much farther back than you expect but you don’t flinch. He draws a line down the center to the flat top of your piercing and then presses down. You make a protesting noise, a warning because it’s still new and still sore. He doesn’t let up but doesn’t push any harder.
“Squeaks.”
You flutter your eyes open (when did they close?) and meet his eyes. They nearly absorb all the light in the room, twin blackholes drawing you in, inescapable and immutable. There’s a hunger lurking within, one you realize with a jolt you’ve been seeing for a long time now.
Whatever he sees on your face, it makes him run his tongue along his own teeth – pearly white and perfectly straight. Then he ducks down and licks over your piercing, first in neat sweeps, and then in tight little circles around its circumference.
Trapped beneath him and mouth open, you can’t swallow back the whine that peels from your throat. You’d be embarrassed about it; except the noise you make when he stops is so much worse.
“Taste good,” he rumbles.
“This another stress thing?” you ask, dizzy and flushed.
He smirks, chuckles deep in his chest. “If it is, will you let me do it whenever I want?”
You nod, thoughts blurring at the edges. His smirk widens, but he obliges when you tug at his shirt, wanting him close, wanting him to do it again.
It takes a long time for it to evolve into an actual kiss. He spends what feels like a small eternity flicking his tongue over your piercing, around it. It’s an unusual sensation, not quite ticklish, but decadent and erotic. At some point, quiet little noises start spilling from your throat and don’t stop. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing down when the pitch goes higher – or maybe you pitch higher because he’s closer?
Eventually your jaw tires from hanging open, tongue aching at the stretch. You retract back into your own mouth, but Ghost chases after. It’s like he forgot about actual kissing until that moment. And then he has something new to amuse himself with. His tongue explores your lips, the roof of your mouth, the back of your throat. He drags his sharp teeth over your bottom lip, growls when you return the favor in retaliation for the sting.
“That’s my girl,” he rasps, “my medic.”
You hum, reciprocate the thorough exploration he just gave you. He tastes a little metallic, but mostly he tastes like Ghost, like Simon, and it’s addicting.
“Think it’s a stress thing for me too,” you murmur when you pull away for air.
“Yeah?” He trails his mouth down your jaw, teeth scraping. “Anxious while I was gone?”
You nod. You always worry about the boys when they’re away, when you’re not there for a worst-case scenario. But you thought about your lieutenant especially, wondering at his mood, at his feelings, without your usual daily interactions. His absence left you feeling twitchy, a little unmoored. You wonder – hope – if he felt the same.
“Take what you need, then,” he whispers. “Don’t mind returning the favor.”
You sink your nails into his shoulders, rake them down his back and sides, treating him like a scratching post. He shivers, puffs out a hot breath by your ear. Your mouth finds that strong, sharp jaw and latches on, sucking and biting, worrying the skin until you pull away to a dark bruise.
“Go on,” he urges.
You do, making a trail down his neck, then across. Tug at his shirt when it gets in the way. He leans back to pull it over his head. You nearly tackle him, mapping out the swell of hard muscles, licking over the angry lines you clawed into him.
“Easy now, precious,” he purrs. “No rush.”
You make a disagreeing noise, lips never leaving his skin. One hand tangles in your hair, petting and holding, not guiding. His other drifts down to your ass and grips like a vice. It hurts a little; it feels so fucking good. There will be bruises for days.
When your nails scratch across his hip, he bucks, fingers spasming against your scalp.
“Careful,” he growls. “Asking for something you might not be ready for.”
You hum. “Maybe,” you agree honestly. “I’ve never…”
He goes rigid. Worried, you glance up. His bare chest (marked up by your hands and mouth) is heaving. His jaw is slack, lips wet. You can’t distinguish between pupil and iris anymore.
“You swear?” he asks, rough. “You’ve never fucked anyone before?”
“No,” you say, not embarrassed, not with him. “Got close, but never managed it. Things always got in the way. Used to be a joke with my friends, that I was cursed.”
A fire alarm, an oblivious roommate, police knocking on the door, the roof falling in, once.
“You have experience,” he asserts.
“Definitely.” You quirk a wicked smile his way. “Plenty of practice with my mouth…”
He shudders, tilting your head to a vulnerable angle, neck exposed.
“And my hands,” you add, gasping.
“You keep pushing, pet…” he rumbles.
You whine. “Want to, with you. Want it to be you, Simon.”
His lips crash into yours, messy and filthy, licking all the needy sounds from your mouth.
“Strip, sergeant. Now.”
You scramble to obey, wiggling out of your clothes as quickly as you can while still half under him.
“Always so good for me,” he hums. “Always follow my orders, my good little sergeant.”
“Yours,” you breathe against his mouth.
The last scrap of clothing is barely off when he pounces, hand flattening on your stomach and pressing you down into the mattress. It nearly knocks the wind out of you, the force of it, pinning you. His eyes hungrily lock on your chest, on the smooth and unmarked skin of your breasts.
If you wanted to protest, you don’t get the chance to. He descends on you like a starving man, all teeth and tongue, practically mauling you. You squirm, not sure where you want to go, just that it’s a lot of sensation all at once. He captures a perked nipple between his lips and sucks until you keen, knee bumping his flank like you want to kick him off.
He slots his hips between yours, presses up tight to trap you further. His free hand grasps at your other breast. Kneading roughly, then twisting and plucking at the rosy nipple until you’re crying out, nearly thrashing. When he’s satisfied, he switches his hand and mouth, spinning you up and up until your breasts are aching and the best kind of sore. He finally pulls off with a lewd pop, mouth slick, rosettes left all over you in his wake.
“Trying to kill me,” you pant.
He smirks, drops one last soothing kiss on your sternum. Then extricates himself to remove the last of his own clothing. His dick springs free from his waistband, slapping obscenely against his stomach. You freeze when the dim light glints off bits of metal.
“Is that…?”
“Come find out.”
You scoot to the edge of the bed and brush your fingertips over the hypnotizing ladder of studs along the shaft. Which, now that you’re closer and your hand is there for scale, is huge. Like, almost pornographic. You didn’t know that existed outside of raunchy media. That’s been under you, snuggled up to you, beneath your ass – for months now.
“Oh my god, Simon,” you gulp. “Is that going to…?”
“It will if you can be patient for me.”
“Okay,” you say, eyes never leaving the glittering silver row. You trust him. As rough as he can be, he’s never hurt you. Not in any way you didn’t crave.
His hand catches your chin again, tips your gaze back to his. “Another time, lovely. Give your tongue a break.”
You whine but sit back on your haunches, hands planted between your knees. “Then hurry up.”
His thumb caresses your jaw, presses in warning. “Patient, I said.”
“I’ve been patient,” you argue. “Gimme.”
That coaxes a chuckle out of him. He plants a hand on your shoulder and shoves. You land on your back again, stretch your legs to hang over the side of the bed. He lowers to his knees between them, thick thighs flexing. His hands slide under your hips and drag until your thighs are over his shoulders.
“Fuck,” you breathe, “Simon.”
“That’s it, lovely,” he coos, teeth grazing your hip. “Just lay there saying my name. Let me play with my toy.”
You’re so wet that you can feel it all over your inner thighs, would be embarrassed if not for the absolutely feral noise he makes at the sight.
“Made a mess.” He draws his tongue up your thigh, sucks at the junction where it meets your hip, loud in the quiet room. “You always like this for me?”
“Mhmm,” you whimper out, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s true. You can’t count the number of times you’ve gone back to your room just to change panties.
“That’s my girl.”
He spends an agonizing amount of time licking, biting, and sucking your thighs. Your pleading and whining is met with indifference or absent chuckles. The need has long since tipped over into desperation, muscles twitching with little sparks of pleasure at every graze of teeth and sharp suck.
You’re already both understimulated and overstimulated when he clamps down especially hard, think he’s broken skin for a moment. Frustrated tears have been dancing at the edges of your vision for a while now and they spill over at the blissful burn that shoots through your leg.
“Simon, Simon, please,” you sob, “please, want it. Please, just—”
He shushes you, soothing the hurt with his tongue until your babbling trails off into little sniffles.
“How copy?” he hushes.
“S-Solid,” you answer. “Just a lot.”
“Tactical retreat?”
“No.” You take a shuddering breath. “No, please. Want to keep going, sir.”
His breath is also unsteady as it brushes over your sensitive skin. “Alright, precious. Tap out if you need.”
You snake a hand down the bed and find his wrist, digging your nails in as you squeeze. A promise to honor his command.
He groans low in his throat, eyes smoldering as he looks up your heaving body.
“Pretty when you cry,” he rasps. “Will you do it more if I play with your needy clit?”
“N-no,” you lie.
He calls your bluff, pressing his mouth to your pussy and making a long, slow pass up your slit. You shake and whimper high-pitched, almost hurt sounding. He swirls the tip over your throbbing clit, sucks gently every few passes. You press your eyes shut, too gone to try to stop the reactionary tears any other way.
It’s a quirk of sex you’ve always had. Not prone to crying emotionally or from pain, but when the arousal or pleasure gets too intense, your eyes water like rivers. Some partners have found it off-putting, but the louder you wail and hiccup and cry, the more eager Simon gets. Like he’s got a direct line to heaven’s choir with his tongue.
You’re gripping his wrist so tight that you must be close to drawing blood, but he doesn’t do more than flex his fingers on your ass. Keeps you right there against his mouth, so that all you can do is take exactly what he gives you.
He seals his lips over your clit again, rubbing his tongue against the swollen bundle of nerves as he sucks. It gets you to the edge so fast that you’re seeing stars, nearly kicking him.
“Close,” you pant.
He eases up just that little bit to keep you from tipping into orgasm. You’re devastated. Afresh wave of tears drip down your temples to the sound of pathetic, helpless moans. Blessedly, he doesn’t stop. Just keeps you right there as he slides a hand from your ass to your cunt.
Just one of his fingers is thicker than any of yours; sliding two into your dripping hole almost hurdles you into ecstasy. He pulls his mouth away as you clench around them, trickling down his wrist.
“So tight. Didn’t you ever get off to the thought of me?”
“All the f-fucking time,” you admit.
“Yeah?”
You nod, tongue laving over your bottom lip. “My hands just… yours are bigger.”
He chuckles. “No cute little toys to help you out?”
“Like to imagine it’s you,” you ramble, shame long gone. “Easier without a vibe.”
“Fuck.”
He dives down to your clit again, tongue almost cruel as it tortures you with quick, rough strokes. You might scream; you don’t care if you do. His fingers curl to pet your walls, find that spot as if he had his sniper scope on it. You thrash as he strokes you, steady and unrelenting. He sucks one last time and you’re gone, coming so hard that your fingertips go numb.
You’re definitely screaming now; his name, specifically. He growls against your pussy, the vibration only prolonging that pleasure, writhing on his hand. You swallow air like you’re suffocating, Simon filling every part of you, drenching your senses. He’s all you know right now, your heart beating to his name.
And he doesn’t stop.
“S-Simon, what are – t-too much. It’s too much, it’s too—” His pins your hips down as he fits a third finger inside you, finger-fucking you so hard that the slick sounds almost drown out your sobs. You’re overstimulated, riding the edge of pain in your pleasure, lower back tight and hot.
But you don’t tap out, just fist the sheets hard enough to pop the seams.
Simon is single-minded, insistent, demanding. It’s a quality you’ve always admired in the field, and right now it’s pulling you apart piece by shivering piece.
“Simon, I-I’m gonna – I can’t…” You shake your head, crying freely and loudly, whimpering as much as you’re moaning.
He presses one of your thighs towards your chest, fingertips digging harsh into muscle. The shift gives him better access to that thrumming knot of nerves inside you. He presses against it hard and incessant as his tongue flicks repeatedly over your abused clit. Your second orgasm drowns you in waves, hips rolling, not sure if you want to get away or get more.
Simon strokes you through it until you subside into pathetic, shuddering noises, pushing weakly at him, pleading for mercy. When he pulls away, slick is dripping down his chin to his neck. The bottom edge of his balaclava is dark where it’s bunched over his nose. He surges up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
You stay that way for a while, letting him coax your breathing into something like normal again. A task made more difficult whenever his fingers tease your tender nipples, preoccupied with how your lungs hitch and your body jolts.
Eventually, your mouth strays to clean him up, licking yourself from his jaw and chin, messy but earnest. He captures your mouth again when you’re done, sucking your tongue like he wants to get every last drop. You shake at the thought, almost horrified to realize you’re still ridiculously horny.
He must see something in your face because he smirks a little. “Playtime’s not over, don’t worry.”
His fingertips trace over your pussy, not dipping in far, but the threat of it triggers a new batch of whimpers and tears. He cocks his head at the sight, almost curious, then leans down and follows their paths with his tongue.
A hum, low and pleased, thunders in the heady sliver of air between you. Against your hip, you feel his cock twitch, hot enough to brand.
“Taste good everywhere,” he muses, tongue still lapping at your tears.
“God, Simon,” you keen, squeezing your glassy eyes shut.
“Want you to do it again,” he murmurs. “Cry for me so I can taste how good I make you feel.”
You moan, pussy clenching, feeling horribly empty. The teeth in your neck are an almost welcome reprieve from the overwhelming pleasure, grounding as they bruise delicate skin.
“Want to see you crying on my cock, lovely. Will you do that for me?”
You nod, reaching for him. Curl your arms around his shoulders, wrap your legs around his waist. He shushes you again, cooing when you hide your wet face against his neck. He supports your unsteady body with unfaltering strength; lets you cling as he rearranges you in his lap.
You can feel his cock beneath you, rock hard, the Jacob’s ladder teasing against your pussy. It distracts you a bit, foggy mind obsessing over how it’ll feel inside you, especially now that you’ve come twice.
His hand pats your ass. “Eyes up, doll.”
You emerge from your hiding spot only to stare, wide-eyed and awed, at his bare face. There are scars everywhere, just like the rest of his body, of varying color and size and healing histories. One on his temple, just clipping his cheek, catches your attention. It’s one of the better-healed scars.
You press a gentle kiss, flick your tongue along it. His hands spasm on your hips, but don’t tug you away.
“Handsome,” you sigh, then nip the same spot you just kissed.
You can feel his smile, a small but precious thing, against your cheek. “Can’t even fucking see straight right now.”
“Not that far gone,” you scoff, scritching your nails along his stubbled jaw. You could purr at the way he leans into it.
“Have to fix that, then.”
You prop yourself up with your other hand on his chest. His heart is beating beneath your palm, a little fast, but steady and strong. You adore it instantly.
You make eye contact, the hand on his face drifting to his cheek. Then you stretch to get the other… and squish. Just like he’s done to you countless times.
“Yes,” you agree.
That finally coaxes a proper chuckle out of him, bass deep and a little rough with disuse, but music to your ears. You let his cheeks go, nipping the little red marks your grip leaves behind.
“C’mon, Si,” you whisper. “Want your dick in me.”
And finally, it seems he’s run out of interest in teasing.
You lean your shoulders against him, letting him take most of your weight between his chest and the arm angling your hips. His other hand steadies his cock, drags the flushed, leaking head against your sopping entrance.
He lowers you slowly, encouraging you to dig your nails into his shoulders, draw them down his arms. Even stretched and two orgasms in, he’s big. It’s testing your limits, not quite pain, stinging in a way that makes your mouth water.
And your eyes.
The tears are back and streaming down your hot cheeks. When Simon notices, you feel his cock throb. You choke on a noise, mouth falling slack as he licks at them like a thirsting man in the desert.
“Didn’t take long,” he teases, a little mean. You love it.
“S-sensitive,” you whine, pressing your forehead to his.
“I know, pet,” he croons. “The head’s almost in.”
Just the head. Christ.
The pleasure keeps racking you and so do quiet little cries, your walls clutching every raw centimeter of his cock like he was built just for you. (Or the other way around, a depraved part of you whispers.)
He’s steady and patient as he fills you, keeping your mouth busy with claiming kisses when he’s not drinking up your tears. At the first rung of the Jacob’s ladder, you squeak and have to be held down, gone on how it stretches your poor entrance and grinds against your abused walls.
Each one after that garners a similar reaction, driving you insane as they press against you.
“Can feel your fucking heartbeat,” he groans at one point.
You moan, raking your fingers through his sweat-damp hair. The blond strands are dark and messy, getting messier as you play with them. He grunts and his eyelids flutter every time you tug.
By the time he’s fully inside you, your ass resting on his tense thighs, you’re panting and trembling. He sweeps a hand up your arched spine and curls his fingers around the back of your neck. You lean into his hold, go lax as he guides you through a decadent, devouring kiss.
“There we are, lovely,” he soothes while you whimper. “Hurt?”
“A little…” you gasp, clenching helplessly around the base of him.
“Good,” he growls, teeth on your shoulder.
You moan, falling limp in his arms. He rumbles a pleased hum, squeezing at your hips and ass and thighs in that way you recognize.
“Stressed?” you ask, confused.
He snorts. “I don’t need a reason to play with what’s mine.”
You suck in a breath, the casual (and true) claim making your head spin.
“Relax, pet,” he murmurs. “Just get used to me inside you.”
You mewl, high and soft in your throat. He tilts his head to speak in your ear.
“Your pussy is going to remember the shape of me by the end of this.”
And your lieutenant doesn’t make idle threats.
He guides your head down to his shoulder, his other arm wrapping around your waist. The lewdest hug you’ve ever received. If not for the fat cock stretching you, it would be calming.
“Good girl, that’s it,” he hums, drawing idle patterns along your spine. “Just drift. It’ll be a bit before you can handle a proper fucking.”
He’s so deep and big inside you that you believe it, but a nagging part reminds you of the uneven score.
“What about you?”
He presses an unusually gentle kiss to your temple, though it’s balanced by the tight squeeze to the back of your neck.
“Don’t you worry about me, precious,” he chuckles. “You’ll keep me nice and warm until you’re ready.”
You swallow thickly, can’t help how you flutter around him. It’s a delicious thought, just sitting here with him filling you up for an indefinite period of time, until he decides you can handle how he’s going to fuck you.
“Like that do you?” he muses, too dark to be truly amused. “Like being my personal cocksleeve?”
“’M not,” you mumble, feeling a new sting of tears.
He tuts. “You’re my toy every other way. No point pretending now.”
You whimper into his neck, bite in retaliation but don’t deny it. Well past the point of anything like plausible deniability.
“No more fussing, pet. Be good for me now.”
And you are, settling in with your mouth brushing absent kisses to his marked collarbones. His hands never stop stroking your skin, lulling you into empty-headed bliss. The full feeling of his cock never dissipates, but you become less aware of it, internal muscles accommodating the stretch. You don’t even realize you’ve slipped into a doze, breaths going deep and even, safely cradled in your lieutenant’s arms.
When you wake, watery early-morning light is leaking past the blackout curtains. One of your hips is stiff from sleeping bunched up, but that’s not what calls your immediate attention. No, it’s the absolute puddle that Simon is coaxing from your stuffed hole with his thumb on your clit. He’s hard inside of you again – or maybe he never got soft in the first place.
“Mornin’,” he rasps when he sees you peeking your head up. Calm as you please. Like his cockhead isn’t kissing your cervix right now.
“You bastard,” you wheeze, sinking a mean bite into his shoulder.
“Grumpy thing,” he teases. “Forgot how sulky you are before coffee.”
You grumble incomprehensibly for a moment. Can’t believe he put you to sleep on his cock. More than a little miffed that you didn’t receive the proper fucking you earned yesterday. That you’ve woken up raring to go already, want his cum in your stomach more than breakfast.
“You actually plan on doing anything?” you demand. “Or we going to the mess like this? Risky to have hot tea that close to your balls.”
His laugh is like honey, rich and syrupy. Liquid sunshine when you kiss it from his mouth.
“Remember who’s in charge here, pet,” he warns.
You tilt your head in question, arching an eyebrow.
“You,” he continues, surprising you. Then he keeps talking. “So if you keep acting like a brat, I’ll have to treat you like one.”
You shiver. It should be illegal to be so salacious this early in the morning. To your delight, he allows you to wiggle a little, testing the feeling of his cock inside you. It’s absolutely divine.
“Or, counterpoint,” you say, daring to be cheeky when he’s looking at you like that. Like he’d burn the world just to keep you warm for a night. “I was very good yesterday and deserve a reward.”
“That so, sergeant?” he asks.
“Mhmm,” you chirp. Duck down to bribe him with kisses and nips along his jaw and neck, stubble prickling your bruised tongue. “I’ll even ask nicely.”
He groans, low and rough in his chest. “Yeah?”
You yelp as he tangles his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck, dragging your head back. His teeth scrape over the stuttering pulse in your throat, where there’s a sensitive spot that makes you squirm. His other hand sneaks to your breasts, tweaking a nipple still sore from his treatment the night before.
“Show me how nice you can ask then.”
And, well, not backing down from a challenge is what got you here in the first place.
You straighten up as best you can – have to take a moment when his cock grinds just right inside you – and arch your back. Your nails score lines down his chest, just this side of rough, knowing it’ll work better than any soft petting. Paired with nibbling kisses to the spot beneath his ear, you can already feel the rumble building in his chest.
“Simon, please,” you breathe, “I need you. Need it to be you.”
“Need what, lovely?” he husks.
“Need it to be you that fucks me.” You dare to rock your hips, pleased and distracted that he lets you. His fingers spread your ass wider over his lap. “Need you to break me in. Please?”
Sniper he may be, but his patience must already be gossamer thin from holding back last night and crammed inside your pussy until morning. He snaps at your crooning pleas, rolling you onto your back and grinding into you as deep as he can get.
There have been times in the field that you’ve stared as Simon operates his rifle. It’s his piece, modified and maintained in pristine condition. You’ve watched his clever fingers put it together, dismantle it, clean it, handle it with a deadly competence and precision that you envied. Not him, but the rifle. Probably something wrong with you, that you want to be an instrument, a tool, in your lieutenant’s capable hands, built up and broken apart at his whim.
Now, though… now you know. You’ve got confirmation that it’s everything you imagined and better, his scarred hands on you like he owns you, like you’re his to figure out. You want to be, you are, and you babble as much when he draws his hips back and snaps them forward.
There’s nothing testing or careful about it. Simon knows you’re not fragile, spent all night making sure you could take him exactly the way he wants you. You’ve never wanted him to hold back, don’t want him to now. Crave the way his control seems to slip when it’s you, your body, your voice egging him on.
He rolls his hips every time he bottoms out; his piercings grind deliciously against your twitching entrance with every thrust. You bury your fingers in his hair, tug when he pulls out as if he’s going to leave you empty and wanting. He grunts against your neck, teeth ravenous over skin that already bears their imprint.
It feels like freefall with no parachute, like getting caught in a perfect white-hot explosion. The force of him makes the bed creak, would shove you up the mattress if not for the tight grip on your thighs. His arm loops under the small of your back and angles your hips up.
“Mine,” he growls into your shoulder. “All fucking mine. My sergeant. My medic. My pretty toy.”
You can’t string together more than broken syllables, little noises forced out every time he drives home. He’s not looking for a verbal response though; your body is already singing its agreement, clamping down on his cock like you can’t stand any millimeter not inside you. You’re rocking with him as best you can, knee hitched up by his ribs, pulling him closer, closer, closer.
“I’m right here, doll. Not going anywhere,” he murmurs. Then, almost to himself. “No, not letting you out of my sight ever fucking again. Going to keep you right by my side, within reach.”
You cry out, ridiculously turned on by promises he can’t possibly keep. It’s not the nature of the job, but the fact that that’s what he wants…
“Go fucking crazy when I can’t see you,” he pants, “touch you. Was goin’ fuckin’ batshit all week. Gaz wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Just wanted to get my hands on you. My teeth in you.”
There’s an earnest, desperate edge to his words. Sounds like a sinner praying for salvation, like he’s begging some cruel god for relief. Or, more likely for your lieutenant, threatening to take that god’s place.
You’d worship Simon if he did. Practically do already. Would spread yourself out on his altar and let him devour you mind, body, and soul just to appease his appetite.
“Simon, please,” you cry, head tilting back, bearing your throat. “I’m yours. Your medic, your sergeant, your toy.”
“Fuck,” he hisses. “That’s right, love. All mine.”
He pushes himself up, pressing his hand to the wall over your head. It’s gorgeous, the play of muscle and sinew in his arm. A fucking masterpiece of a man, beautiful and dangerous and right now, all fucking yours too.
The new leverage lets him slam into you faster and harder, frantic now. You have to brace your arms above your head to keep from knocking into the wall, pushing back to meet him thrust for brutal thrust. Could swear you feel him in your guts.
“C’mon, love, let me see those pretty tears.”
His hand slides over your thigh to your clit, thumb rubbing vicious little circles over the nerves. It gives him what he wants instantly, you’re near screaming as you cry. It’s rough and ruthless and has you so close to the edge that you’re almost jolting away.
“Lemme cum,” you beg, “Please, please, Simon, want to cum on your cock. So close…”
His grin is more just a bearing of teeth, eyes glittering in the shadows above you. “Cum for me, precious.”
It doesn’t take much more than that, always eager to please your lieutenant. His hips and finger sync up at just the right moment, just the right way, and you’re gushing over his cock, voice breaking. Your nails scrape the wall as you curl our hands into fists, bucking as he fucks you through it.
You’re not surprised when he doesn’t even slow down, though you reach to push his hand off your screaming clit. His hand darts from the wall to capture your wrists, pinning them over your head. The punishing rhythm of his hips doesn’t even falter, bullying that spot inside you relentlessly.
“I didn’t say you could fucking stop,” he snarls.
You whine and struggle, but that just makes you tighter, makes him rougher, makes it better. You’re not even sure if the cresting sensation is pleasure anymore, if it’s another orgasm or your body reaching max capacity. It’s just whiteout intense and you can do nothing but lay there writhing.
“Gonna cum in you,” he moans, head dropping. “Gonna leave my mark inside you too.”
You contract around him helplessly, his thrusts getting messier, plunging into you at a dizzying speed. Not even sure if you’re making noise anymore, or just sucking in air when you can get it. His fingers flex around your wrists, tight and unforgiving.
And then there's a burst of heat as he moans, sounding gutting. He fucks you through his own orgasm before finally slowing, and then stopping buried deep inside you. His thumb eases off your abused clit, hand landing on the bed beside your hip. Your leg flops down to the mattress, stretched out and still twitchy.
“How copy, sergeant?” he rasps.
“Solid, LT,” you wheeze. “You?”
“Fucking fantastic.”
That startles a little giggle out of you, grinning up at him fucked-out and high on afterglow. His returning smile, small and disused as it is, is better than all the orgasms you’ve had in the last twelve hours.
“Gonna pull out now,” he warns. “Brace.”
Even prepared, you still yelp, beyond sensitive and cored without him inside you. The feeling is only exacerbated by the warm cum you can feel dripping down your ass from your used hole.
“Look at that…” he drawls appreciatively, tilting his head for a good look. “There any part of you that ain’t pretty?”
You groan and cover your overheated face, knock your shin into his hip. But you leave your legs open.
“Shut up, Simon.”
“Insubordinate.”
“Fraternizer.”
“Mm. Gonna report me to Price?”
“Only if you report me.”
“Mutually assured destruction then.”
Your mouth is still hidden under your hands, but you know he can see your body shaking with suppressed laughter.
“Or you could help me clean up, take a nap, and we’ll negotiate terms for a ceasefire.”
He chuckles. “Should have you on a diplomatic envoy, Squeaks. Have the rest of us out of a job. No wars, no soldiers.”
You shake your head, dropping your arms to card through his hair. He lowers himself onto you – not his usual full-force flop, but still by no means delicate about it. You like the weight of him on your tingling body. Feels like he’s keeping you from floating away.
“Only way they’re getting me on protection detail for politicians is if you’re there with me.”
He grimaces. It’s stupidly charming how it makes a scar on his nose scrunch up. “The point is to stop incidents, not start them.”
“Shame, then,” you hum. “Guess we’re stuck here then.”
“Guess so.”
He pats your thigh, then pushes himself up. You protest immediately, but he shushes you with a wry smirk.
“Part of the terms, wasn’t it? To clean you up?”
You grumble but subside, thankful that officer quarters come with an ensuite. It doesn’t take him long to return with a damp cloth and a cup of water. He sets the latter on the side table and kneels between your thighs, wiping you down as gently as he’s ever been.
When he’s done, you make grabby hands until he scoffs and climbs in with you again.
“Nap?” you ask hopefully.
“Yeah. Got you up early. Still an hour ‘til breakfast.”
Not for the first (or likely last) time, you are grateful for Simon’s brilliant tactics.
“You’re my hero.”
He snorts, but when you peek up at him, there’s a fetching pink tint to his cheeks. “Go the fuck to sleep, Squeaks.”
“Yessir.”
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#cross posted on ao3#old fic#sergeant squeaks#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley
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(not so) friendly reminder that a non-exaustive list of war crimes that isreal has committed is:
Wilful killing
Torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments
Wilfully causing great suffering, or serious injury to body or health
Extensive destruction and appropriation of property, not justified by military necessity and carried out unlawfully and wantonly
Intentionally directing attacks against the civilian population as such or against individual civilians not taking part in direct hostilities
Intentionally directing attacks against civilian objects which are non-military
Intentionally directing attacks against humanitarian assistance
Intentionally launching an attack knowing that it will cause loss of life, injury or harm to civilians or civil properties
Intentionally launching an attack knowing it will cause significant damage to the natural environment without necessity
Attacking or bombarding, by whatever means, towns, villages, dwellings or buildings which are undefended and which are not military objectives
Intentionally directing attacks against buildings dedicated to religion, education, art, science, charitable purposes, historic monuments, hospitals, and places where the wounded are collected, assuming they are not military objectives
Employing asphyxiating, poisonous, or other gasses, and all analogous liquids, materials or devices
Employing weapons, projectiles, and material and methods or warfare which are of a nature to cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering
Intentionally directing attacks against buildings, material, medical units and transport and personnel
Intentionally using starvation of civilians as a method of warfare by depriving them of objects indispensable to their survival
If you still think this is isreal defending itself, you're ignoring the signs. This is a genocide. These are war crimes. More than 25,000 civilians have been murdered. This is not okay.
Edit:
For all the people asking me for a source, here is a list:
https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/12/18/israel-starvation-used-weapon-war-gaza
Any of Bisan's videos/writings. There are so many people on the ground in Gaza who are documenting this. Stay safe and stay educated
#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#free palestine 🇵🇸#this is a genocide#isreal is a terrorist state#immediate ceasefire#these are war crimes#ceasefire#ceasfire now
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