#I JUST got him through security

[heavencasteel420]

WIP Wednesday

Featuring: Robin vs. bra shopping and Jonathan vs. the machine (a scary elevator).

From Tomorrow’s a Long Way Off (brief references to sexual harassment and heteronormativity):

It was amazing, Robin thought, as she watched her mom put the towels into a cabinet, how the smallest comment could get her blood boiling. She knew her mom liked Gail for having interests other than boys and clothes; those were some of the reasons she liked hanging out with Gail. Yet Robin could hear words behind the words. She’s a smart girl, not like you. Not like Molly. You should spend more time with Gail and less with Molly, so you can be a little less stupid.

“Molly’s smart, too,” she protested.

It was true, if you didn’t count the business with Steve. Molly was great at math. Her mom just rolled her eyes.

“I never said she wasn’t.” Then she looked critically at Robin’s shirt. “You need a new bra. Since Gail canceled, we should go to Penney’s and get one.”

Robin crossed her arms over her chest and felt blood rush to her face. She’d had the bra she was wearing since eighth grade, and it was one of the only ones that didn’t scratch or dig into her skin. She hadn’t realized that it wasn’t doing its job anymore, but everyone else must have.

“Didn’t you burn bras?” she asked. If she was nasty, her mom wouldn’t notice that she was upset.

“I did,” her mom said drily, “but you take after the women on your dad’s side. I also don’t think you understand symbolism.”

“Well, I’m sorry my breasts aren’t feminist enough!”

Her mother just squinted at her.

“Robin Elizabeth, you are not making any sense. What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.”

Her tears were falling fast, though. She didn’t want to go bra shopping with her mom, who would pick on her for hours before making her agree to an itchy, ugly bra that she liked. She didn’t want to be looked at by gross old men or seniors who treated her like a joke. She didn’t want to be looked at by any man. What she wanted was a girl to look at her like she made the sun rise, but it felt like that would never happen.

“Are you getting your period?” her mother asked, in a slightly softer tone. “I have some Midol if you need it.”

“No!” Robin exploded. “I’m just apparently an idiot who’s been walking around with my tits out all summer! No wonder everyone’s been staring at me!”

Her mom stared at her. Robin waited to get scolded for being crude or overdramatic, but instead her mom did something totally shocking: she burst into laughter.

“It’s really not that bad,” she finally said, once she’d caught her breath. “You’re not going to shock anyone who’s seen Three’s Company.”

From Tonight, Tonight (brief ableism, vague references to Jonathan’s life in Hawkins being rough):

“Well, I hope the traffic back up isn’t bad,” Kevin said. He opened a door at the end of the hallway, leading to a smaller room with an elevator. It wasn’t like the ones in apartment buildings or malls, with buttons pressed by the passenger; instead, it was controlled by someone in a room with close-circuit TVs, somewhere in the labyrinth of Pennhurst. “Debra’s family’s just over the Roane County line. She’s one of the McCorkles. You probably know them if you’re from Hawkins.”

“Mm-hm.” The McCorkles were one of the old farming families in Hawkins. “I had geometry and English 9 with Lisa-Anne, I think.”

“Oh? I’ll make sure to say hey.”

Jonathan thought of Lisa-Anne—serene, ladylike, way into 4-H—and suppressed a tired grin at the thought of being remembered to her. He was so sure she’d want to hear from the basket-case son of crazy Joyce Byers. Still, it had been a nice thing to say.

“Thanks,” he said. “I remember those little purple tomatoes she grew for the county fair last year.”

He’d ducked into the agricultural tent while Will and his friends rode the Tilt-a-Whirl for the second time. He’d gone up with them for the first round, despite his distaste for being tilted or whirled, because Will had still been little enough to be wary of the creaky machinery. Maybe he’d been right. The whole town had been creaky, full of rusted parts and sharp edges. Jonathan should have known that from his own experience: Clint Morris’s granite fists, Robbie Hagan’s slow white smile, the free-and-reduced lunches that seemed to get smaller every year.

[dykedvonte]

Honestly I see Jimmy's refusal to put Curly out of his misery less about his weird feelings of envy or his delusions but the fact Curly is all but stated to be a shield to Jimmy from his actions and people seeing the worst in him.

The only characters that Jimmy really interacts with one on one before the crash are Curly and Anya, two individuals he has wildly different relationships with. It's likely that Curly really did most of the talking between them as the pilots and the rest of the crew as staff. They didn't know of Jimmy's more reprehensible behaviors cause they never really had the chance to and Jimmy is subconsciously aware. If they had disliked him more than Anya would have told Swansea earlier or even Daisuke when things got really bad.

It's why he takes the immediate opportunity to blame Curly; He's the shield. He's saved Jimmy's ass more times than he can count and more times than Jimmy would ever admit. Even when he can't really do it anymore, he mentally shields himself from his own faults by putting Curly between them. Letting Curly die puts too much on him because he doesn't know how to function without a safety net.

In the end Curly only lives because Jimmy needs the idea that Curly will inevitably make things better to stay alive, meaning Curly has to live, no matter how much it pains him to do so.

[ruvviks]

club bodytalk's latest addition! his name is ulysses and he used to (unwillingly) work for maxtac with reid for many many years but now he's free and on a path of self discovery (figuring out he's bisexual as fuck)

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel, @aezyrraeshh, @carlosoliveiraa

[tagidearte-spam-sb]

I find it funny how the fandom (or, at least, a part of the fandom I see a lot) has latched onto the "Moon is obsessed with rules" headcanon. True, he's the one that comes after Gregory for "punishment time", but...

Sun is the one calling the player a rulebreaker and kicking a literal kid straight into the less-than-friendly Glamrocks' waiting arms (for accidentally turning the lights off. As if Gregory would know touching a Freddy shaped security box would do that. If it even was Gregory and, idk, ""someone"" disabling the power in the daycare on purpose). Sun is the one nearly popping his circuits if you don't follow his instructions. Sun is the one threatening to release Moon on you if you so much as colour a page wrong. Sun is the one getting frustrated with Cassie if she screws up somehow (haven't played Ruin in a while, but I do think he freaks out if you approach him in the VR world after only disabling one - or zero - generators).

Moon on the other hand? Moon is fizzyfazzing vibing (well, not in Ruin for obvious reasons). Fulfilling his task and getting the kid? Sure sure, let him just jump from leg to leg first, and walk in a goofy way at an extremely slow pace (even Monty with no legs balancing himself on crutches would probably move faster), while giggling and alerting the entirety of the daycare to his precise jingly location. He only starts taking it seriously and entering the structures when you get some generators on, and even then he's still messing around. The robot cares more about his jester theatrics than his goddamn job. If Moon really does security patrols like many people believe he does, half of them are (or were, prior to the virus) probably him tormenting a poor overworked security guard (rip Vanessa, if you're out there...).

Don't take me wrong. I love a Moon who follows the rules to a malicious degree as much as the next person. And he does seem set on putting Gregory down to sleep and punishing him. He does seem intent on harming you in HW2. But let's be real, Moon doesn't give a shit about his job half the time - doing a goofy walk, riding a carousel... those are much better. If he gets to scare someone while doing it, jackpot for him. We only really see him struggle in Ruin, as far as I recall. Sun is the one running around like a bossy headless chicken trying to get everything in order.

I think it's because Moon is the one who directly says "you must be punished" and harms you? But even then my man jumps on the table, does a goofy move, and flies off to give Gregory some time to hide for their little hide and seek game. Sun is the one getting freaked out and throwing you out without any preamble after the lights turn on.

Again, not shitting on anyone. I just think it's so funny. I legitimately cannot imagine Moon being that serious unless 1) a real intruder is at the pizzaplex, not some snotty kid; 2) Vanny tells him to; 3) something actually dangerous is happening and he's not high on whatever virus is going around.

[myebix]

I'm just saying that if jason and harley broke into arkham to murder the joker, they would never get in trouble.

some inmate: what? the joker was violently murdered to death and died? last night? why, last night, I slept like a baby. I didn't hear a peep. must've been some freak accident.

jason and harley: hm? the joker died last night? damn that's crazy, we were playing lazer tag and getting drunk. just ask the game attendant! I think his name was roy... or maybe ray. doesn't matter, we're cleared.

[jubileebloom]

I aspire to be a lover not a hater. but

[enhanced-operatives-division]

So I'm working on speedrunning all of ieytd2 and I left Jet Set until last because I was worried about memorising the whole defense override sequence. Turns out, I've watched playthroughs of this game so many times that I just. Have it memorised anyway

[aspacewar]

The amount of House x Wilson content tumblr feeds me is making me want to rewatch House MD

[topaziraphale]

dear god my last post is NOT getting the reception I thought it would butttt maybe that's on me I guess I didnt clarify a few things. and I messed up at the very end. oops. I'd be replying already if I didnt feel like I got run over by a truck for pulling an all nighter and then not napping🧍‍♂️

[of-thunderstorms-and-candlelight]

indiana jones but he steals artefacts from museums and returns them to their countries of origin

[standingontheoverpassscreaming]

people love differently. and some don’t fully know how. and once you see that, it fades some of the insecurities and doubts… but it begs the question of how do you wanna love and be loved and what compromises are you willing to make?

[gloriousfckingpurpose]

that was the worst ticket buying experience of my life

[girlinafairytale]

i've recently noticed a pattern that i'm not sure that i like. we have hundreds of fundraisers circulating on this site. many of them go without donations for days/weeks. if any fundraiser receives donations, its because the posts stand out/ something very tragic has happened to someone in the family.

for example, the nineteen year old, Shaban Al-Dalou, who was burnt alive a few days ago had a fundraiser. the family only reached their goal after losing that poor boy. i cannot understand why couldn't we have helped him before? i dont know how the family will cope with his loss.

so ask yourself, is genocide not a simple enough reason to donate? or do you need the family to be hit with a tragedy to even consider donating? everyone, i mean EVERYONE in gaza has experienced unimaginable loss and pain and destruction. they've lost their homes, livlihood, friends and family.

humanity has existed for so long because we care. we love each other and are hurt to see others' suffering.

you don't have to wait for tragedy to strike someone to donate. they are going through starvation, forced displacement, and mass murder. please care about this.

do not decrease the meaning of the word genocide. it breaks my heart to see the suffering of the people of gaza at the hands of their colonizers.

I've just got one thing left to say, save my friend mahmoud and his family. they deserve to live just like everyone. help him secure a better future for his family.

donate here || vetted by @gazafunds

[ @mahmoudjumaa1238 ]

[maaaxx]

I registered to vote today 🥳🥳🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

[screampied]

✩ㅤ cw. fem! reader, size difference, choking, size kinks, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, full nelson, mdni.

play fighting with suguru which later turns into him having you in a full nelson.

“awww, c’mon. don’t tap out on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs against the soft shell of your ear, hearing you sweetly gasp at the gaping barrage he creates with his thick cock. just a few moments ago—you were on top of him and now you were being stuffed full, legs dangling and weakly being held hostage while a beefy arm of his slings around your throat. your body collapses backward as you’re just idly bouncing on his lap, feeling each of his bulky muscles flex and twitch behind you. “biiiig stretch, fuck there we go. mhm, my baby’s all nice ‘n flexible.” he gruffs, peppering a few sultry kisses near the open curvature of your neck. you moan, feeling the secure grasp of his broad hands move from its original placement, gluing under the cracks of your thighs.

he’s got you in such a risqué position, your body continues to jostle against his, feeling his carved hard abs rub off against your skin. “ngh, suguru,” you squawk, and your hooded eyes peer down at yourself taking him in fully. his base had a pretty sheeny tan, resuming to pump in and out of you, already blissfully bottoming out. you felt him everywhere—and he’s just holding you upright with two burly arms, locking his arms under your plush pretty thighs. “ ‘m gonna cum again, fuck.”

with a husky snicker, he deepens his thrusts against you by moving his hands toward your rickety hips. a cunning simper spreads against his lips before he ghosts a few silvery slick fingers down your sopping wet slit. “well yeah, with a weak pussy like this, bet you are. you poor thing.”

your jaw couldn’t help but loosely hang itself open as he’s just ruthlessly lodged inside of your cunt, creeping a swollen fat thumb near your puffy hood to toy and flick with it some more.

his touch to you was like electricity, and you were very much on the verge of breaking. he was so thick — insanely thick, geto’s pearly poking crownhead mercilessly drags in and out of your pasty walls and you recognize the delicious curve of his dick all too well.

your moans grow even louder, so loud that it’s bouncing against the paper thin walls whilst the sharp slaps of skin create shivers all throughout your body. “fuck, more. put me in a chokehold, sugu.”

“dirty girl,” he grunts, his hefty base starting to slather up with sappy juices from your slick heat. a big brawny arm curls around your neck again and he presses a chaste kiss toward your cheek.

“my, you really shouldn’t say such things, y’know,” and as you’re still taking his cock, you feel his free hand grab near one of your breasts. he gives it a nice squeeze before focusing his attention back towards your neck, hearing your cute exasperated gasps. licking against your ear, he lowly whispers, making you slightly turn your neck to face his feral sly eyes. “i could just snap you in half if i really wanted to. all i gotta do ‘s jus add a little pressure like this ‘n . . my doll’s gonna be all broken and we can’t have that, huh.”

sweet sweet whimpers spill from your lips as his arm still remains wrapped around your throat. he makes sure it’s a safe hold, giving you a few frisky squeezes here and there just to hear you whine for more.

he’s so beefy. through your glossy doe peripherals, you could visibly see his veins pop out through his skin. you felt your pussy throb once you start to imagine all the times he goes to the gym alone, all the times he’s lifting weights.

if anything though, you wanted him to be lifting you instead.

“nothin’ to say? aw, pity,” his gravelly voice lowers, and you’re brought back to harsh reality once his palm swats against your ass. you bite down on your tongue in attempt to suppress your incoming lewd whimper but it still comes out. “fuck, always so warm f’ me, god,” and his grip against your neck loosens. the pits of your tummy tense and coil up as your clammy thighs continue to tweak and spasm from his sharp thrusts. so deep. every few seconds, he’d pull your legs up or drag them further apart just to hear you gasp.

you’re almost marveled by the fact that such an obscene position even exists. your legs could barely stand and if it wasn’t for the help of his hands, you’d be screwed.

“s- sugu—ah!” you whine, feeling his bulbous head ram its way against your convulsing g-spot. he knows that spot like the back of his hand, the cute bumpy texture that never fails to present himself around his angered tip. shaggy long tresses of black hair tickle near the nape of your neck as you fall back. “fuck fuck fuuuck,” you loudly snivel, digging your nails into his meaty thigh. once he hits it, he keeps hitting it until your cute voice strains itself out. he’s still practically got you folded as you’re trying to ride out your euphoric orgasm. the bed devastatingly dips inward from the crushing masses of weight piling on top of it.

“there we go, that’s my sloppy girl,” he coos in a raspy tone. geto’s pitching his voice against your ear as he speaks and oh, his words a mere raunchy whisper. he hears your talkative cunt squelch out, faint strings of syrupy slick forming a little plash around his weighty base. geto holds your hips firmly, showering the crook of your neck with a plethora of balmy kisses as your body ruts and shakes.

“good girl, listen to how nasty you always sound for me,” he hums, sneaking his stubby fingers back down towards your weeping wet cunt, maneuvering a few circles near your drooling slit. “i know, i know,” he talks over your enraptured shrills, and he then gives your pussy a patting spank. you moan, falling back against his sweaty chest and a trail of his curly chest hair titillates against the center of your back. “this is a lot more fun then wrestling, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“y- yeah,” you swallow, and he teasingly wraps a stocky bicep around your neck again. he’s still merrily buried inside of your gummy walls, feeling you writhe around his lap and he chuckles. you’re panting, full lungs desperately trying to gather up any amounts of air that it could before you exhale. “again, sugu.”

with a purring hum, he lifts you back up, trying to pull your leg over your shoulder. “hm, fine. but keep up. ‘m not gonna go easy on ya this time,” and he gives your dribbling sensitive clit another playful pat. “and ‘m certainly not gonna go easy on her either. but, i’ll try not to break you too bad this time princess, no promises.”

[khioneee]

tap out. pt ii.

warnings. mentions of death, emotional distress, grief and loss, pregnancy.

a few years later, another tap-out ceremony arrives, but this time, the air feels different—heavier, somber. simon’s been gone for over a year, his deployment unexpectedly extended due to an incident overseas. you’d been told he couldn’t come home for a while, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

today, you stand among families who aren’t just here to tap out their loved ones but to say goodbye to those who didn’t make it home. tears stream down faces as loved ones gather around caskets, grieving the soldiers they’d lost. the sight fills you with a mix of dread and relief, knowing simon is still out there, waiting.

simon stands in formation, rigid as always, but he has a sense for you. before you even appear in his line of sight, he knows you’re near. but imagine his surprise when he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision, a small bundle wrapped securely in your arms.

his heart hammers in his chest, quickening as he realizes what this means. his breath catches, his eyes fixed on you as you approach. you look up at him, your eyes sparkling, a knowing smile on your face as you watch the subtle changes in his expression—the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the way his breathing picks up as it dawns on him.

both of you had been trying for a baby before he left, and now, standing before him, you hold that precious life in your arms. it had been a struggle going through pregnancy without him, feeling his absence during every kick and every sleepless night. but seeing him now, looking more than ready to meet your child, all the pain fades away, replaced by a joy so profound it fills every inch of you.

‘daddy’s home,’ you whisper softly, tilting the blanket so simon can see her tiny face, fast asleep, a perfect mirror of him in miniature. she’s got his nose, his quiet strength already etched into her tiny features.

with tears in your eyes, you reach up, your hand finding his cheek, tapping him out in the gentlest of touches.

the moment your hand connects, simon moves, breaking formation as he pulls both of you into his arms, holding you close as if he’ll never let go. his voice is thick with emotion, barely a whisper as he murmurs, ‘my loves.’

you knew your husband had a reputation in the military—a man as cold and unyielding as steel, a fortress no one could break. but as he held you and your newborn in his arms, that carefully built facade cracked, revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you ever saw. the tough soldier was gone, replaced by a man whose heart lay entirely with his family.

‘do you want to hold her?’ you ask softly, watching his eyes light up with a blend of surprise and joy.

‘her?’ he whispers, voice catching on the single word, as if it’s almost too much for him to believe.

you nod, smiling through a haze of happy tears. ‘her.’

with slow, reverent movements, you pass your daughter to him, watching as she looks impossibly tiny cradled in his strong arms. simon looks down at her with a mixture of wonder and fierce protectiveness, as though he’s already memorizing every detail of her face.

as if sensing her father’s gaze, the baby yawns, a soft little sound that makes simon’s eyes shine with awe. you catch the faintest smile pulling at his lips, a rare, tender expression that he reserves only for moments like this.

he leans down, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. ‘never gonna let anything happen to you,’ he murmurs, voice thick with love and quiet promise.

while simon was lost in his quiet moment with your daughter, a loud shout cut through the air, breaking the peaceful silence.

‘is that our baby i see?!’

simon’s head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting to something harder. he turned to see soap grinning widely, practically bouncing with excitement. with a sigh, simon reached over and smacked the back of soap’s head, though his movements were careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

‘there’s people grieving, you idiot,’ simon muttered, but soap only snickered, completely unfazed.

‘and what do you mean, ‘our’? she’s y/n’s and mine. you’re not part of this relationship, mate,’ simon added, his tone dripping with mock irritation.

but soap, undeterred, just ignored him and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in a display of exaggerated excitement. ‘oh, come on! let me hold our child!’

simon groaned, looking down at you with a glance that seemed to ask, ‘do i really have to put up with this?’ but he couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as soap’s enthusiasm filled the air around you.

reluctantly, and with another sigh, simon finally leaned over, carefully passing your daughter to soap, though not without a low, ‘if you don’t keep her calm, you’re not holding her again.’

soap just grinned, taking her into his arms as if he’d won the lottery, cradling her gently and cooing softly.

soon after, the rest of task force 141 gathered around, drawn by the excitement, each member eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

you and simon stood to the side, watching with cautious eyes as they took turns holding her, each one adopting a careful gentleness you wouldn’t have expected from hardened soldiers.

price held her with a proud grin, murmuring something about ‘training her to be the next captain,’ while gaz made her giggle softly with his gentle cooing. even the usually reserved roach softened as he held her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

you glanced up at simon, watching his face as he stood beside you, arms crossed in a show of casual indifference.

but you knew him too well. beneath the mask of stoicism, there was something warmer, a subtle softness in his gaze as he watched his team, his family, sharing this moment with him. this gruff, unbreakable soldier, who had once thought he’d lost everything, had found a new family among them, one that shared in his joys and sorrows alike.

reaching over, you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. he didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a quick squeeze in return, a quiet acknowledgment. but you could see it in his eyes, that gratitude for a family he never expected to find—a family that had now become part of yours.