#Like just watching him be all fucked up and evil I loved seeing it

[dearru]

do u guys know that one song by doja cat that goes “like fortnite ima need ur skin.” that’s what inspired this. hope u enjoy. | mlist

imagine you, an aspiring singer, starting to date the wildly influential streamer, kodzuken. you two are the definition of a picture perfect couple, and you start to make lots of content together. as a result, your career begins to take off, and kenma’s content grows in popularity,

everything’s great— until it isn’t. the relationship ends up crashing and burning in an embarrassingly public breakup.

people are devastated. video essays are made. diehard fans even claim the split is the equivalent of “parents divorcing.”

it’s a whole ordeal.

but as time passes, the wounds heal. and in true internet fashion, it becomes old news. some people still whisper about how they believe you two are soulmates, but for the most part, kenma’s chat and your comment section don’t get flooded with invasive questions about whether you two will get back together anymore.

fast forward to two years or so after the breakup, you and kenma end up growing in your respective careers. his several business ventures have grown exponentially, and you’re now selling out stadiums.

kenma doesn’t stream as much as he used to when you two were together, but he chalks it up to having to juggle so many different commitments now. fans speculate as to whether or not that’s the true reason, but as a collective, they agree that they’ll take whatever content they can get from the elusive creator.

despite not streaming as frequently, kenma still likes to indulge his audience every once in a while by hopping online. normally, he likes to decide what to play, but every once in a while, he’ll let chat decide.

tonight is one of those nights.

on a whim, he gives in to requests for him to boot up fortnite— an old favorite of his— for the first time in months.

big mistake.

the second he opens the once beloved game, he gets jumpscared by something that even his worst nightmares couldn’t have fathomed.

you.

everywhere.

to his horror, and the chat’s delight, he finds that you’ve become the poster child for fortnite’s newest campaign. your face is on the menu screen, banners of you flash in bright colors, and you’re plastered everywhere in the item shop.

they say men are constantly haunted by the ghost of their first love, and in a cruel twist of fate, it’s a saying that has become ironically true for kenma as he realizes that epic games has made you into a fucking skin.

he debates the consequences of throwing his pc into a wall, but his screen flashes with an overly excitable chat faster than he can make a decision. old fans are freaking out, new gen fans are wondering what all the fuss is about, and someone donates just to type “YOU’RE FUCKED.”

kenma has half the mind to laugh as the notification illuminates his face because he knows the donor is right.

he’s not an idiot. he knows that you’re popular now, but to be so famous that you have your own skin? he’s in absolute disbelief. there’s no way the universe hates him this much. it’s bad enough that you’re on every headline and radio station. now you’re in his favorite video game?!?!

he is so unbelievably, irrevocably fucked.

—a/n: i think that kenma’s viewers are evil and they all band together and emote on kenma with ur skin whenever they see him online.

—a/n #2: has anyone written abt this concept before. pls lmk. i would love to read it bc i giggled so hard when the thought popped in my head HAHAHA.

—a/n #3: guys i don’t play fortnite, watch streamers, or write for kenma at all so pls don’t hate on me ok thx love u

[agirllovespancakes]

Ooo I saw your requests are temporarily opened!! I hope this is okay!!

Can I please request a Demetri x fem!reader where she was one of the newborns turned by Victoria, and when Dem, Felix, Jane, and Alec are there watching the newborn vamps and discussing what to do, Y/n (because she has special vamp abilities) is the only calm, in control newborn and she can sense that her mate is near (Demetri) and much to the four of their surprise, she goes right up to them, straight to Demetri, and says she is scared and needs help (poor girl doesn’t know what is going on). I’m sure the Felix, Jane, and Alec would’ve tried to attack her but she sends them flying away from her without even touching them (maybe she has telekinesis and can control fire, water, air, ice). Anyways The Kings are absolutely ECSTATIC to meet Y/n and Demetri makes her feel right at home🥰

One of the newborns

A/N: Ah Demetri my favorite guard. Ohh I struggled a little bit with how I could have her approach him realistically but I hope you like this ❤️ Thank you for the request lovely!

He was shouting. Riley’s nostrils flared as annoyance seeped through his demeanor when he grabbed a kid by its legs and threw him on top of another kid. They both scrambled for their lives, knowing that to anger Riley meant your head could be ripped off. You took an unnecessary deep breath, feeling the way the air went towards your lungs and back out without effect. You watched Riley shout at a few other newborns who were so stupid to attack civilians in the middle of the streets. 

Riley was kind if you followed the rules. Which you did, you tried to do everything exactly as he said so. There were more newborns so calm and in control like you. Bree was one of them but she was so young. You were sure she was just a teenager. She followed Riley like a puppy but you knew she was smart. She would probably figure it out soon what his plan was. And you? Well, you were having a feeling that something was out there for you. Something more important than this. Perhaps it had to do with your gift. You did not tell Riley about it and you killed the other vampire who was there when you found out. It was instinct, you had to kill her so no one would know. And since that night you tried with every part of your being to not use it. The longer you withheld it the more you felt a burn inside you, a need to use it. Even if it could kill you. You were terrified to use it in front of Riley.

This night was not particularly special. The moon was bright and most newborns had once again fucked up with the rules from Riley. He tore the head off a newborn who tried to attack him. Riley was actually not stronger than the newborns but he knew what to do, the redheaded woman probably taught him. You were curious about the redheaded woman but you made sure to never ask. This alleyway was disgusting and you sat down next to a container to watch one of the others drink from a dead man. It was messy; his limbs were everywhere. You had grabbed an arm to lick off the blood the other vampire had not drank yet. It was delicious. 

As you watched the others grab more bodies you caught sight of something in the distance. It was merely a second visible but you sneaked off to a different building so you could see that area better. Four vampires disappearing into the night with dark cloaks. Their clothing made it easy for them to seem invisible to humans. But you saw them and now you were watching them from behind. 

You gulped when one of them, a tall vampire, turned around and fell to his knees. He howled in pain as a tiny vampire behind him stared him down. Her smile was evil, the one next to her looked at them in boredom while the fourth seemed to enjoy the show. Your gaze shifted from the tall man to the fourth man. Beneath his cloak he was wearing an old-fashioned outfit. As if he was born centuries ago. Perhaps he was- they all seemed ancient. However, you couldn’t stop looking away. There was something about him. 

Riley had once said something about how he was her mate. The mate from the redheaded woman. It meant that you were born for each other. Soulmates but for eternity. He said that sometimes you could sense them when they were nearby and sometimes it takes the mate to actually seek them out. It is different for every vampire, he explained. He had not much experience either; barely grown out of his newborn phase. But perhaps this was what he meant. You couldn’t stop; you felt a sudden urge to just walk up to him. Which was terrifying because what if they would kill you? Why were they looking at the newborns from afar? 

You weighted down the options and as the tall vampire got up again and listened to what the tiny vampire had to say- you got up and slowly walked up to them. It all happened in seconds; the tall vampire was about to jump at you and because it scared you, you used your gift in all its untrained glory to throw him off you. Next a hand was curled around your throat and you were pressed into a brick wall by the fourth man. His hissing was heard loudly in your ear and you whimpered when you could feel your throat cracking underneath his hand. 

Looking up into his eyes you saw he had soft crimson red eyes. The color of red was faded by age but rage and curiosity was visible in his features. He frowned as he looked down at you. Biting his lips as he watched your features. You gasped for relief when his hold on your throat was not as tight anymore. And then his features softened, his eyes crinkled and you gasped for air; staring at how pretty he was. 

“Demetri,” an angelic voice spoke up from behind him. “Care to explain?”

Oh, his name was Demetri. You placed your hand on his as he turned his head to look at the tiny vampire. He answered with only one sentence: Et petram, ex saxum. You did not know what it meant but it was clearly sacred. All three of them took a step backwards while Demetri turned his head back towards you. He was smiling. 

Demetri moved his thumb towards your chin, making you lift your head. He was tilting his head sideways, examining you as if in wonder.

His voice was soothing when he spoke again; “say, how long ago were you turned, my love?”

It was embarrassing to not know what to say. You felt like he could watch right through you. You whispered: “Three months ago, I think.”

“So young, parva exspiravit.” His smile grew wider.

You had no idea what he was saying. You wanted to ask but you were nervous. 

Suddenly the tall man spoke up as well: “I believe it is time we return.”

“I agree with you this time, Felix,” the tiny vampire added. 

Demetri lifted his other hand and cupped both your cheeks now. He was cradling your head as if you were fragile. Perhaps you were fragile compared to him. He looked ancient and yet as if he was just reborn. You started smiling because of how childlike his wide smile was. He pressed his forehead against yours and you gasped because of the intense eye contact. You couldn’t look away, he wouldn’t let you. 

“I waited centuries for you,” he whispered. 

Oh, he had existed for a really long time already. 

“Come with me, we have a home in Volterra.”

Wait, you were turned by the redheaded woman. Riley wouldn’t let you go. You were an important asset, he had said a few days ago. “I can’t, Riley will kill me if I disobey him. I am important for his mate’s mission. You need to help me escape them.”

You shrieked when he growled suddenly.

“No, no one will kill what belongs to me. You are coming with me, all right? I will protect you.” 

“Oh.”

You whimpered when he leant upwards to place a kiss on your forehead. It was intimate, it felt intimate. He cupped your cheeks tighter now, as if he wouldn’t let you go anymore. The gesture made you feel safe somehow. As if he was going to be your new home.

“The kings will love you. You belong with us.”

Volturi taglist

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx @alecvolturiswifeforever @sparklybuildingsdesign88 @volturiprincess @iloveslasher @phoenixgurl030 @ang3lz-lov3

[marzipanilla]

And right now the only wall bashing happening is my head against the bricks lol

I love how we've totally managed to swap which thread is actually discussing SU stuff lol

Jasper finally breaking down like YOU HAVE THE POWER OF A DIAMOND. you are a diamond! And yet you wander around. paying for things. staring at the scenery. I WOULD CONQUER GALAXIES IN YOUR NAME. why aren't you ordering me to use MY power to do that? am I too small now, my diamond?

And poor Steven just having to be like, okay, first off, stop calling me that- here, eat this donut, we're gunna watch the sunrise and I'm not gunna unpack all that bc it's not my job anymore. you can figure it out Jasper. I'm pretty sure you already know the answer.

J: because you're weak?

S: -.- Try again.

lol Nolan hobbies powered by spite. yeah. Him suddenly being supportive of Mark going to college if he goes in for journalism xD Mark awkwardly meeting up with SpiderMan later after his dad has him shake him down like, hey dude, we good? you aren't secretly evil, right?? and Peter having to throw that line right back at his face and then they get the ultimate irony later. Aw, now I'm thinking about Peter and Aunt May hanging out with Debbie and Mark after lol

Would JJ lose his shit or actually start a Omni-Man was framed campaign??? he works against Invincible and Spidey now xD JJ and Powerplex in a room together. oof.

You saw my ep reorder ramble already but yeah !! Powerplex should have opened the season. Then the way I see it, Mark then has his future Immortal run in and is then all fucked up about having to kill him/not wanting to/being forced into it, and maybe he tells Cecil about what happened because they are still kinda buds at that point ! And then the Doc Seismic shit is happening and Mark is holding back bc he just killed a guy again and is wigging out and everyone gets screwed. Then when Mark loses it on Cecil he can be like the GDA doesn't get to decide shit. Powerplex worked for you, stole from you, and murdered his own family. And Cecil gets to be like You JUST came back from the future and told me you were an emperor who left Immortal in charge !! I NEED a way to contain you ! It would make his willingness to be so stupidly overhanded make more sense if he had just heard this kid merked and even older Immortal.

All of the pieces are there !! why is the narrative so out of sorts !! WHY

I actually legit thought Powerplex was new to the show for a moment before he said his name and I saw his family and my brain supplied an image of them flash fried and I was like, oh yeah, I kinda recall this xD

Oliver talking about what he remembered of his parents would have been so fucking important to open with ! I should not be learning this at the end of the fucking season ! And instead of bullshit with Paul we could have gotten a moment from Debbie expressing what she goddamn thinks about Nolan's legacy. What she actually has been telling Oliver about his family, if anything. How she feels about her role in everything and not some bs stock 'normal' shit which she has never expressed wanting before. There is a meter between 'world conquering jackass' and 'total stale white bread' and I think she deserves not to be stuck on world conquering jackass, but she should be nowhere near stale ass white bread.

Way back in S2 I was actually chatting with some other folks who had also read the comic, and honest to god one of the things we talked about that I hoped would happen aside from Oliver being totally written out (a fucking pipe dream but I honestly thought only 3 months had gone by in the show and not the 6 from the comic until the show ass pulled another three months out of Mark's time at high school somehow...) was that if they did keep Debbie raising Oliver that they LET her be weird and a little resentful and that was why he turned into such a prick who was down to murder. Because no matter how decent she was trying to be to this kid who didn't deserve being treated like garbage due to who his father was she couldn't fucking help it, and I would have been fine with her showing that bit of weakness. but they kept everything pretty much the same except they allowed her to not be totally into it from the get go like the comics.

Right now the stuff I like about S3 are, the Cecil flashback, Nolan's breakout, and ep6. Like. hope to god y'all saved your entire animation budget for the last two eps and they don't totally crash and burn so at least if the story continues to be meh I can at least watch something fun.

I know you want to put Powerplex and Mark in a room together but Debbie talking to him. like. I lost everyone. all my friends were murdered. my husband was a monster. my son nearly died. all my close friends of the last 20 years were murdered. You see me out there killing randos and picking fights? No. I'm getting my shit together and building something. You had a family and you pissed it away.

God. I think I just miss seeing her be a little mean to people. Even her talks with Cecil come across as sad more than angry. Let Debbie fucking yell at people again, what the fuck happened there. She was so dismissive of the white house attack ! of Nolan ending up in another dimension ! YES LET HER BE RECKLESS. let her be callous. stop having her suddenly being a fucking doormat for other people's freakouts. its okay baby, I support you no matter what ! FUCK THAT. she needs to snap or at least be shown getting some support so I understand why she isn't just fucking killing people lol

Debbie designating herself a fucking Problem when. Her and a crew of villain adjacent buddies coulda been so fun. Cecil not being able to spy on them anymore bc she now has resources to get that shit off her back. I need people in her corner so fucking bad. A much more gray morality Debbie tho. It's honestly one of the things I really appreciated about S1. She doesn't tell Mark to be good, she tells him to make choices he can live with. The closest she gets to a 'be a hero' statement is nobody is beneath help. God. I would love for that convo to come back up between her and Mark. for it to get nasty re: Nolan.

Eve just starting a business is like, okay whatevs, but that is a federal prison. Government contracts have so much shit built into them ! how they work what you need to do to qualify ! and this fucking teenager just gets the contract?? it definitely shows that heroes are above the law bc wtf. Is it bc she worked with the GDA before that it got greenlit?? If there were attempts to bring a fucking court case against Invincible in recent memory and the public was shaky on his image bc his dad just tried to take over the fucking planet why would he qualify for government contracts !!! if you really want to try and fucking double down on his stupid prison is the only option mandate, than fucking have him go into a damn job interview and give the best police brutality is justified cop speech ever, bc prisons are responsible for the health and safety of their inmates and them hiring man who punches things does not speak highly of the care they give. Tie his fucking job into why he is a hero and not 'damn I need money guess this'll do'. and it is once more something he does not pick. Doormat Mark expose when. just... damn.

Where did the character drama go ??? why do episode one off randos get more depth ??? The exchange between Kate and her brother was great, and it was 100% the kind of conversation Mark should have been having with someone. I also immediately wanted to be like 'oh are you going to mention that you were willing to let everyone believe you were dead just to run away and get out of things Kate? including your brother remember that? no? hm' Why is Rae suddenly living out Kate's apparent fucking dream of retirement. like wtf happened there.

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[glitter50000]

bitches be getting so happy watching the darkling being portrayed as a villain and a toxic lover. It’s me, I’m bitches

[scoliosisgoblin]

Which version of Rick is your fav?

it's so hard for me to choose tbh. HOWEVER, I'd say Evil Rick

then I'd say it's C-137 and Memory Rick

I love how pathetic™ Evil Rick really is tbh. love that he's being controlled by his Morty. can you guess who my favorite Morty is?

[asktheevilgeniusesson]

If it had been anyone else, any other ‘mortal’ like him calling him frail. He would’ve snapped then and there about it and argued that he wasnt a frail puppy anymore, but.. he knew better then to snap on something that he could tell had much more power and control then he ever would. As seeing how the ruby argued to drop it immediately before the thought of a single snarl crossed his mind, though before he could speak and catch his breath, he froze as the other began to morph time and space around again. He was silent, watching everything with.. well. Amazement instead of fear. Not everyone got to see such a thing- sure he could bend reality with the ruby but he couldnt do- well- thIS! So it obviously captivated the jackal, especially when they made it to where Orpheus took them. The jackal just seemed abit.. distracted by the beauty of it all. He expected to be enveloped in some freakish nightmare- not.. something so beautiful and comforting. His father taught him the evil side of a gods anger, not.. this side. However his attention snaps to the large ‘hedgehog’ when he speaks, and he seems startled for a moment at just how fucking BIG he is, being a nearly 3ft tall jackal made him look minuscule in comparison to the other, so ofcourse it startles him abit. Staring up at Prime, he blinks slowly. And gently, gets to his feet. As he listens, he cant hear his ruby arguing against it.

“I.. well i dont see why you’d pick me out of all the more.. capable mortals..” he starts, his mind racing. If he accepts this— he’d probably have to leave the empire. But.. all hes known in the empire is pain, and murder. This.. god, had shown him nothing but gentle kindness snd a beautiful domain that he was lucky to see. He could be signing up for another hellhole of an existence but.. this felt special. It didn’t feel like he was being forced or manipulated into this. He wasn’t some second choice- or- was he? He couldn’t tell. After more thoughts, he stares the other in the eyes, it’s obvious he’s nervous. But he seems willing. Anything to escape the doctor. Anything to give him new purpose other than just a dog on a leash. “..would.. would i have to do anything to prove my worth like the doc made me do..? I-i mean i’d love too but i don’t.. i don’t know what that entails.. but i’m sick of being used like a goddamn mindless animal— i wont.. i wont just be a mindless animal to you, right..?” Gaia he sounded pathetic, he absentmindedly sunk his own claws into his arm for sounding like a pup again as he gave a gentler expression to the being.

At first, the jackal seemed to be alarmed as the void changed, he thought he’d lost the floor under his feet for a moment until he saw how the void turned into the night sky, as if he was in this little welcoming void of space that felt.. almost comforting. It reminded him of those star displays his mother used to put on to project onto the ceiling for him to sleep under the stars.. and almost immediatly his body un-tensed and seemed to relax for a moment. However the calm didnt last long as he felt his ears ringing from the noise caused by the tear. He let out a yelp and moved to tightly yank his ears downward to try and cover them, as his ears, much too long and huge for his head, couldnt be covered by normal means. He waited until the sound drowns out as he opens his eyes again to see the being infront of him. He looked.. confused, however. As the being spoke. He’d never heard of an ‘orpheus prime’ before.. was there other eldritch gods his father failed to teach him about? However when the being explained what they did, he felt the instinct to bend to one knee and bow.

And thats what he did. His legs crumple underneath him as he drops into a bow to the being. Already understanding this thing was stronger than him.

However he found it harder to breathe suddenly, and the jackals ears pin back in a slight fear as he took sharper, heavier breaths now, one arm clutching his stomach as to not cover the ruby embedded in his chest, staring at the being with a nervous look. He spoke up, voice heavy and pausing for breaths.

“It— it was- given to me as a child— by my father— ivo robotnik.. it- its basically an.. a-artificial heart for my body.. the doc- took my real one years ago— y-your highness?- m-majesty-? Im not— sure what to address you as— I’ve never.. heard of you…” the jackal spoke through struggles of breath. Blinking slowly at the name he was given. Child of Wrath? He glared twords the ruby, silently muttering ‘so you have friends you didnt bother to tell me about?’ Followed by violent pulsating of the ruby, it was customary for the jackal to usually be the only one who could speak to the sentient ruby- but he assumed this Orpheus could hear its argumentative words aswell.

[s0fter-sin]

they really 50/50’d the thunderbolts with characters i like and characters i couldn’t give less of a shit about

[thelonelynindroid]

Brad Jo Dana Evil Gang.........I love it

[protagonistscum]

lmao after watching the last stand yeah i see why they took the timeline out back and shot it

[jackass-jones]

Starfire teen titans my best friend Starfire id burn alive for you

[luvvictoria]

I've been thinking abt a poly!tf141 with a fem!reader who like is from the country side AND I'M CRACKING, OH LAWD!!!

Task Force 141 had seen you kill a man from 700 meters away. They had seen you tear through enemy lines with the precision of a seasoned warrior, your movements deadly and efficient. But what they hadn't seen—what they couldn’t wrap their heads around—was the life you returned to after every mission.

Because while Ghost, Soap, Price, and Gaz spent their leave in safe houses, military bases, or the occasional urban apartment, you?

You went home.

To the countryside.

To your massive, luxurious farmhouse nestled in the hills of a quiet village, where the air smelled of fresh hay, wildflowers, and the occasional whiff of cow.

And when TF141 finally visited, they were not prepared.

The First Time They Saw the Farm : "What the fuck—" Ghost had been the first to say it when you pulled up to your estate in an old pickup truck, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as you parked in front of a sprawling wooden house with a red-tiled roof.

There were animals everywhere.

A massive black and white cow lazily chewed its cud near the wooden fence. Chickens and roosters strutted about like they owned the place. A gray donkey stared at them with judgmental eyes. Two ducks waddled past as if they were on a mission. Dogs barked excitedly at the sight of you, tails wagging. A cat lounged on the porch, stretching in the warm sun.

And then—a fucking horse trotted up to you, nuzzling into your palm like a puppy.

"Price," Gaz whispered. "She has a fucking farm."

"A fancy one at that," Soap muttered, still stunned.

"You lot gonna stand there all day?" You grinned, tossing your duffel bag over your shoulder. "Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready."

They were bewildered. They had spent years with you, fighting side by side, seeing you covered in blood, sweat, and gunpowder—and now you were leading them up the front porch of your cozy countryside mansion like a perfect little housewife.

And the worst part? They liked it.

You, The Deadly Soldier and The Perfect Housewife

Soap had expected you to relax on your leave. Maybe sleep in, drink some tea, read a book.

But no.

You were up at the crack of dawn, slipping out of bed before any of them could pull you back in, dressed in overalls and a white tank top, heading out to feed the animals like it was just another mission.

"Morning, sweetheart," Price murmured, leaning against the doorway as he watched you toss hay to the horses.

"Morning, Captain," you teased, kissing his scruffy cheek before moving on to collect eggs from the hens.

Ghost watched in silence, arms crossed, as you scolded a particularly feisty rooster. "You peck me one more time, and I swear to God, I’m making soup outta you."

Gaz almost choked on his coffee when you turned around and gave them the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"You boys want breakfast?"

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting at a massive wooden table in your warm, sunlit kitchen, eating fresh farm eggs, homemade bread, and smoked bacon.

And Soap was ready to propose.

Domesticity With a Side of Chaos

Price: Loves sitting on the porch with a cigar, watching you work. He helps with repairs, fixes fences, and absolutely adores the peacefulness of your home.

Ghost: The animals are terrified of him at first (except the donkey—the donkey hates him). But the barn cats adopt him, curling up in his lap whenever he sits down.

Soap: Thinks farm life is the best thing ever. He learns how to milk a cow, names every single chicken, and gets way too attached to a piglet.

Gaz: "Babe, I love you, but this rooster is evil." (He got chased one too many times.)

And at night?

After a long day of farm work, you slip into something soft and lacy, curl up in their arms, and remind them that you’re not just a soldier, not just a farmer—you’re theirs.

They Never Want to Leave

By the end of their stay, not a single one of them wants to go back.

"You sure we have to leave?" Soap pouts, feeding the ducks.

"Darlin’," Price murmurs against your neck one night, arms wrapped around you in bed, "Ever thought about retirin’ here? With us?"

Ghost doesn’t say it out loud, but when he watches you laugh, your hands covered in flour as you bake bread, he knows he never wants to be anywhere else.

And Gaz?

He just sighs, watching the sunset over the hills. "I never thought I’d say this, but…I think I’m in love with farm life."

They were all in love. With you. With this. With the life they could have, if only they stayed.

Maybe one day.

For now, they’d enjoy every stolen moment in their countsyde paradise. But what if we make thing spicy ? A little bit, at least.

Ghost Was The First To Break

Ghost had held strong. Longer than the others.

While Soap got weak-kneed watching you bend over to pick up hay, and while Gaz couldn’t stop staring at your thighs in those tiny denim shorts, Ghost had kept his cool.

Until that damn sundress.

White. Light. Flowy. Just enough fabric to tempt, but never satisfy—clinging to your curves, slipping off your shoulders as you carried a bucket of water to the horses.

He had been cleaning his rifle on the porch, but his grip tightened the moment he saw the fabric sway with your every step.

And then?

You had the audacity to look over your shoulder and wink at him.

He dropped the rifle.

Soap Lost It In The Barn

Soap had always been shameless about his attraction to you.

But you?

You were even worse.

It was an accident—(was it?)—when you walked into the barn one night, looking for something. The others were inside, drinking whiskey in the house, but Soap had been alone, brushing down one of your horses.

And then he saw you.

Wet.

Covered in rain.

Your thin white blouse clung to you, completely see-through, nipples pebbled against the fabric.

"Lass," he had rasped, watching as you closed the barn door behind you, stepping forward, voice all honeyed and sweet.

"Johnny," you had purred, voice dripping with something that wasn’t innocence, "I’m cold."

He snapped.

The horse had seen things that night.

Price Was The Most Dangerous

Price was a man of control.

A man of restraint.

A man who knew how to bide his time.

But you?

You tested him.

You liked to push. You liked to see how far you could go before he gave in.

And God help you—you found his limit.

It was late. The others were asleep. You were making tea in the kitchen, standing on your tiptoes to reach a mug from the top shelf.

Price had walked in just as your nightgown slipped up your thighs.

It wasn’t fair.

The soft, white cotton. The little lace trim. The way your bare legs looked so smooth, so inviting—and the sleepy way you turned, so unaware of what you were doing to him.

You looked up at him, mug in hand, and smiled. "You want some tea, Cap?"

And then—his hands were on your hips.

Voice rough.

"You know damn well what I want, sweetheart."

Gaz Had It The Worst

Gaz?

Gaz was a goner the first time he saw you in nothing but boots and his shirt.

You had come in from the field soaked in sweat, hair messy, thighs speckled with dirt. You had tossed your muddy clothes into the laundry room, grabbed his green tactical shirt, and walked around the house like it wasn’t driving him insane.

"Babe," he groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, watching you stretch, the hem of his shirt riding up to dangerous levels.

You blinked. All innocent. "What’s wrong?"

Gaz was a patient man. A respectful man. A man who was about to lose his goddamn mind.

"Come here."

You smirked, walking over slowly, pressing your hands to his chest.

"You’re so easy to rile up," you giggled.

His hand wrapped around your throat.

"And you’re about to learn what happens when you push too far."

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hope you can do this-

WE TOTALLY NEED t141 with a wife reader doing that one TikTok trend about standing naked in front of them, like they could be watching a rugby game and reader comes into the room with nothing but a towel on, drops the towel, completely flashes them and then leaves 😂

(you can do gender neutral if you don't want to do a female reader 💕)

HA! OKAY! I know this trend! I've seen videos of it before. Love, love, love this idea, anon. I could have gone real smutty, but I controlled myself (shocking, I know) and only went a bit cheeky (lol) with it. I hope you have a good laugh or smile while reading. Enjoy!!

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, non-descriptive nudity, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, shenanigans, swearing, implied sexual content

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

The documents are sprawled out across the dining room table. John has been pouring over them for hours, considering every bit of information, determining importance.

In his peripheral, you float about, a moving shadow that appears and disappears as you roam the house. John would like to spend time with you, to bask in your presence, but it’s not to be. This is far too important to merely set aside.

For a time, you disappear, then your shadow emerges again. John expects you to continue on, but you linger, and it draws his attention up and away from the documents.

You stand before him in nothing but a fluffy white towel. Your skin, that of what he can see, is slightly wet as if you’ve just emerged from the shower.

“Love?” he prompts.

You don’t speak. You simply drop the towel.

All thoughts of the upcoming mission leave John’s head. In its place is your nakedness and the rushing of blood to his dick as it hardens.

As words form on his tongue, you abruptly turn, giving him a full view of your bare ass.

Fuck it, John thinks as he pushes back his chair.

The mission can fucking wait.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s tongue sticks out from between his teeth. It’s just a sliver of pink—a hint of the concentration brewing in his gaze.

“Come on,” he mutters, clicking the buttons on the controller. “Come on.”

He’s off. Away from work. Enjoying the comforts of home.

You appear from the right, directly between the television and the couch. Johnny notices but says nothing. When you don’t move away, he glances over. You’re in nothing but a fluffy, white towel.

“Coming to join me, love?” he asks with a wink.

As a reply, you smirk, and then drop the towel you’re wearing. It pools at your feet.

Johnny’s gaze completely shifts in your direction. He stares…and stares, the video game forgotten. You’re completely naked, looking goddamn delicious. All the blood in his brain promptly rushes to between his legs, building an aching need that grows by the second.

And you’re…walking away? No. You should be sitting in his lap right now. You should be on his dick.

“Oi!” he shouts, standing abruptly, the controller clattering to the floor.

You glance over your shoulder, and Johnny melts under that look. Desire hangs heavy, and Johnny decides right then that the game can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle leans against the kitchen counter, his gaze distant as Price chatters away in his ear. They’ve been on the phone for five minutes—a new record for Price who thinks cellphones are evil incarnate—and the man won’t shut up.

“No,” says Kyle, keeping his tone neutral. “I hear you. It’s a fucking mess that one.”

You appear from around the corner in nothing but a towel. Kyle smirks in your general direction, extending one arm toward you with the intent to draw you close to him. But you do not approach. You remain completely out of reach.

Frowning, Kyle pushes off from the counter. The words begin to form on his lips and then promptly disappear when you abruptly drop the towel.

His mouth hangs open, breath stolen, with gaze fixated on all that nakedness.

Price is still talking—still jabbering.

Kyle hears none of it. Price’s voice becomes a low buzz as all of Kyle’s attention goes from his head to his dick.

“Captain,” he manages to gasp out as you dart away down the hall. “Captain. I have to go.”

Kyle doesn’t wait for Price’s affirmative. He ends the call, legs already moving to follow you.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon lifts the hammer, intent on striking the nail to push it further into the wall.

Just as he brings his arm down, a shadow appears in his peripheral. Within him is a tug—an insistent urge to look and seek out the source of the movement.

And Simon does.

Shifting his head just enough for the shadow to become solid, Simon’s gaze falls upon the one person he loves most in this world. It’s only seconds that pass, but his brain registers everything about your figure in an instant. It’s your exposed skin, then the towel wrapped around your body, to you opening it up to reveal the nakedness underneath, only for you to drop the towel where it pools on the floor.

The hammer comes crashing down, but Simon doesn’t notice that the trajectory has shifted. Not until it falls, and misses the nail, coming down on his hand.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he growls, staring down at his now throbbing thumb.

Simon glances up, ready to tell you off, but you’re already walking away, bare ass on full display.

You naught thing. Distracting him on purpose.

Simon sets down the hammer, following, intent on teaching you a lesson.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @glassgulls @greeniegreengreen

[phantomrose96]

So my mom's birthday was this week and I flew down with Patches to visit her for a few days. Patches, while a verified hater of the airport, really loves my mom's place because there are so many more closets to explore and birds to watch and cobwebs to dust with her stupid little face.

My mom also goes to bed earlier than anyone I know, so for the evenings it was on me to monitor Patches' activity. And she's very good. She's 99% good. She's 1% "could use improvement" good and the 1%, which I'd forgotten about, is tomatoes.

Patches will leave most things alone. (And by "alone" I mean she'll absolutely bitch slap them onto the floor, but they will leave the ordeal with just as many or few surface punctures as they had before the encounter started.) Not tomatoes. Patches has it the fuck out for tomatoes.

So when I noticed her batting something around on the ground I realized that my mom had left a sole, roma tomato in the fruit basket on the counter and it was now experiencing the life cycle of a pingpong ball between Patches' paws.

I take it away from her, like a fucking evil woman, and now I'm like "okay actually, where do I hide this." See at home I have an anti-Patches cabinet, which is for things that have no business living in a cabinet but which WILL have business dying at Patches' hands if left accessible. And this is WEIRD to have such a cabinet but it's my own home.

I'm scanning my mother's cabinets going "is this weird here? can the tomato go in my mother's dish cabinet?" And I briefly consider sticking it in the fridge, as a normal location, but the audacity of altering this tomato's ripening process is an audacity I do not possess. So I go with cabinet. I go with the first eye-level cabinet, which is the coffee mug cabinet, which is perfect because the tomato will not be lost to cabinet purgatory there, since my mom opens it every morning for her coffee. I will simply tell her in the morning that the tomato is there.

Next morning. Seeing as my mother goes to bed at the butt-crack of dusk she ALSO gets up at the ass-crack of dawn. This means I trail down like 2 hours after her with my work laptop and Patches. This is also now her birthday. I'm sharing the sofa with her for a good 15 minutes when I think to myself I'd like some coffee, and I remember I put a tomato in the cabinet. I tell my mom as much. I put the tomato in her coffee mug cabinet.

And the look I get is one I can't really figure out on spot. But she says "Chrissy this is the best birthday present you could have given me" which is a very weird response to the already weird statement "Oh you probably saw, but I hid the tomato in the coffee mug cabinet because Patches has it out for tomatoes."

So I do not at all know how this makes for a good birthday gift. My mom tells me how a week or two ago, she came home unloading groceries. At the end of putting everything away she could not for the life of her find her phone. Absolutely nowhere. She pinged it from her iPad and it started singing. From the fridge. She opened her fridge. Her phone was in the fridge.

A couple days later she lost Ash's collar. Spent three days looking for it. Couldn't remember where she'd taken it off or what she did with it. Showed up in the grass when she remembered she took it off to let him play fetch in the lake.

And then this morning, her birthday morning, she came into the kitchen, made her pot of coffee, opened the cabinet to fetch her coffee mug, and found... tomato. Singular. Tomato in the cabinet. Tomato she had no memory of placing in a cabinet. Tomato she could not possibly fathom having a reason for being in the cabinet.

She was like Chrissy I cried. She was like this is it, time to send her to pasture. She's a harebrained old lady now and there is no coming back from this. She's the lady who accidentally puts tomatoes in the cabinet. Awake before God, standing in the kitchen, signing her life away over this tiny roma tomato. (Roma tomato with little cat vampire teeth marks in it).

I was like oh. No. I put it there. Because Patches was going to commit war crimes against it. I put it there because I did not stop to consider "Will finding a single tomato in the coffee mug cabinet somehow be the very specific thing that undoes my mother this morning?" I put it there out of careful consideration for the life of this tomato, and with no consideration for the extremely esoteric way that a tomato in the cabinet could be received like a horse head in the bed, Godfather style.

We made a salad with the tomato. Happy birthday Mom.

[inkskinned]

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

[yeyinde]

extremely dubious consent. power/class imbalance. implied breeding. manipulation.

but regency era John Price paying off your chaperone to get you alone in a carriage for few hours and the whole time, your guardians think you're being properly supervised during this unorthodox courtship.

And sure, he's so much older than you, a widower with specks of grey along his temples and peppered in his beard, and more established in class and life compared to you, the poor thing that only just entered society and already got snatched up by the surly, gruff Duke. But it's John Price. Despite his temperament, he's such a respectable man, isn't he? They can trust him to protect you, of course.

And he does.

Your virtue, however? Not so much.

He does away with that little problem on the second outing he takes you on, smothering the protests that draw up, shaky and uncertain on your lips when the chaperone your guardians paid to watch over you walks away, swallowing it down with a searing kiss. Shushes you through it as he slips his thick fingers over the seam of you, arm buried beneath a dense layer of fabric, snuffing out those little gasps.

Don't worry about it, he rasps into the burning apple of your cheek. "s'how it's supposed to be, mm?" and when that doesn't quell the quiver in your brow, he adds:

"s'what I want, love. Jus' a little taste, mm?"

And the problem with gently reared girls is that they turn into such obliging women. Your eyes flicker downward—soft in your acquiescence even though your shoulders draw up cutely towards your ears. Pretty little thing. He couldn't possibly resist.

So he doesn't.

Taking such a lovely creature on the dirty floor of the carriage with your prim, proper skirts trussed up over your hips, shift in utter disarray from the scorching attention he lavished your breasts earlier is nothing short of euphoric. Aided by the adorable little whines you make when he finally notches his cock against your soft flesh. Worry flashing over your brow because he's just too big, too thick, for you to take, and maybe we shouldn't, Mr Price—

But you swallow him just as sweetly as he imagined you would when he pushes inside of you. Pussy fluttering around him in a panic at the blunt, thick intrusion, unused to such brutal treatment. And it's heaven, of course. Nirvana between the split of your pretty thighs. Pussy just made to take his cock. Loving it so tenderly like this

"Taking me so well, aren't you?"

Tears on your lashline. Nose scrunched up. He's sure it's a trial for you, but this is just a prelude. Ripping the bandaid off.

A necessary evil.

And if the altruistic facade falters under the blunt weight of his desire, his greed, then at least he has a failsafe to keep you in his pocket should your guardians decide he—in his age, his callousness—is not a good fit for their daughter. They are the doting type, after all. Romantics. Idealists.

It doesn't take him much at all to reach the apex of his pleasure, not when your hands press tight to chest as he bears his weight down, grinding his throbbing cock into the deepest part of you. Your moans, delicious little keens ringing so sweetly in his ears. Letting him ride you hard against the dirty floor, chasing his pleasure even as your knees dig into his sides, brows pinced but nodding along when he rasps in your ear about how good you feel and how it'll only get better, and next time—since you're bein' so bloody sweet f'im—he'll show you how to suck his cock between those damnably soft lips, keep his fingers buried inside of you while you fold yourself over the bench on your knees, mouth swallowing him down deep—

(If they can't come to reason and see why he's a good match, then the swell of your belly in a few months time will surely sway them—)

The thought breaks across his spine, molten heat puddling in his loins. Fuck—

Despite the viciousness of thrusts at the idea, you take his desire so goddamn well.

It sends him over the edge with a grunt. A belly deep groan. And just in time, too.

After he puts your clothes in order and slides you back into the seat, groaning when you squeeze your thighs tight together, keeping his cum from spilling out, your chaperone arrives with a nervous smile and a glint of guilt that's easily diminished with another slip of cash between palms. You stare, dazed and flushed, out the window, and barely even flinch when he lays his hand on your thigh, hold possessive. Proprietary.

"Time to go home, mm?"

And if he brings you back to your guardians flustered, limping, and a little dazed—well. The roads were just terrible, weren't they, sweetheart? Quite the rough ride, mm? He's sure next time will be better.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Really stupid au where when they were younger, Kakashi and Obito shared an accidental kiss a lot like Sasuke and Naruto. (Kakashi commits to his mask shortly after but will never not insist it's unrelated)

Years later and Kakashi, trying to cheer up Naruto and Sasuke ab their own embaressing accidental first kiss, shares his own story

Then, years later when Obito reveals himself on the battlefield, instead of going "woah, another Uchiha!?" when he hears his name, Naruto can't help but point and shout OH MY GOD UR THE GUY WHO KISSED SENSEI!!!!!!!!

Instant dead silence. (Obito wants to die)

Sakura, who never heard the story ab how it was a one time accidental kiss: "omg... sensei's childhood boyfriend went evil on him... this is so fucked up"

Obito is VIOLENTLY thrown off by this turn of events (and also hasn't actually thought ab it in years oh my god that did happen didn't it)

Kakashi, seeing how badly it threw him off, and also the kind of person who plays hard into throwing people off and generally fucking w them to gain an edge, seeing Sakura mumbling ab lovers to enemies and just kinda goes "Yeah Obito I can't believe you'd do this to me I thought we had smthn special."

"Yeah a rivalry????"

"So I was only ever a way for u to get stronger,, figures u were using me,,,"

[Confused Obito car crash noises]

Sakura yells smthn ab him being a deadbeat and how Kakashi can do so much better and Naruto is instantly shouting in agreement as Sasuke stands there like "hn." Which is basically the same thing for him

Kakashi just starts straight up lying actually

"What about all those picnics we went on... watching the sun set over konoha..."

"Are you talking about when Minato said we weren't allowed to come back inside till we stopped arguing and ate on opposite ends of the roof bc we couldn't even look at eachother without yelling???"

"It was so romantic."

Obito, starting to actually doubt himself, "was that a date????"

(It was not.)

"You died in my arms..."

"I died under a rock"

"We literally got eye married" (not a thing, he just made this up 3 seconds ago)

"We got WHAT" (no one can prove him wrong tho bc no surviving Uchiha knows that much ab their clans marriage traditions)

"Oh my god sensei's husband is a deadbeat" - sakura, horrified (and maybe a little delighted)

"Figures." -Sasuke, who's been in proximity w Obito for some time now and absoloutley believes every word ab this topic Kakashi is saying

"Woah. This is almost as bad as the fact he murdered my parents when I was a baby dattebayo" - Naruto who's priorities are NOT what they should be

"Ok. I wouldn't go that far." - Sasuke, who's priorities are also fucked but not THAT fucked, oh my god Naruto

"No, no he's right. We should kill him even harder for this" - Sakura, who doesn't actually agree but wants an excuse for more juicy sensei love drama (and also wants to see Obito beaten to death anyways)