#and we're just talking physical prowess here
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I'm a physical therapist, so sometimes I find it fascinating to consider the amount of strength, coordination, endurance, and agility that is required for Star Wars characters (especially non-Force users) to pull off certain stunts/physical feats.
So, in reference to the crouched walking/running we often see Clone Force 99 (and particularly Tech) engage in during missions...
Can we take a moment to admire just how strong their legs are???
That's not even talking about the general balance, coordination, and flexibility necessary to do crouched walking without falling over, not to mention running.
(Special shout out to Echo, who does this on two prosthetic legs - meaning he's essentially performing this feat while balancing on two-jointed stilts and using the muscle power in only his hips/upper thighs.)
#the bad batch#clone force 99#they seriously are the elite#and we're just talking physical prowess here#and they do all this without using the force
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covetous
a/n: Jesus Maggie, you really called me out on my bullshit for this one. Originally I want this story to just be a bunch of sexy encounters in a morally questionable world, now we're talking about feelings and love and how the hell did we get here? (This is how I would imagine him the first time he sees his Girl) Please enjoy this un-beta'd, barely edited request. All mistake and errors are mine! please enjoy
Warnings; 18+ no minors, Marcus pov, vague but big-legal age gap, there's no actual sex, but memories of it, vulgar yet romantic musings, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he��s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!
Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader
word count: 1.1k (😅)
reblogs are appreciated
Masterlist series masterlist
War is easy. It’s a language he’s fluent in, something he excels in. He is blessed enough to have survived more battles that he could count and has been more than rewarded for his prowess. Battle plans, marches and military strategy are almost second nature, the fury, the heat of battle, all that he can anticipate and it’s probably the main reason he’s come this far in his life.
Soldiers, camp life and brutality, those things are easy for him to understand.
Other matters, love, affection, attraction; these things are…harder.
Physically, he’s perfectly adequate. He's never been ignorant to his looks, or his build. He knows that he fills the societal ideal for a man. He’s broad, he’s strong, he has a good face and no physical flaws.
He’s never been short of attention from the fairer sex either but that doesn’t mean anything as far as he’s concerned. He’s had his trysts, and he thinks he might have even been in love before but his luck seems to stop, and stay within his vocation.
In his younger days, he’d broken his fair share of hearts, he’d been gifted the virtue of many a virgin in hopes of tempting him into a marriage. None of them had held his attention for more than that one night, and sometimes, in the late hours wherever he found his rest he secretly feared the Gods might be punishing him. Withholding the partner he hopes to find as payment for those broken hearts left in his wake.
As he grew older, wiser and more practical he learned to ignore that little emptiness. He saw it more as a blessing. Would he be where he was now with a woman waiting for him? Would he have hit his station with children bearing his name pulling at his thoughts in the middle of battle? Perhaps the Gods had simply made a trade. His life, or his heart.
He’d been content with his lot in life, until he’d seen her.
She’d served at a gathering he’d been loath to attend. His eyes tracked her, the shine of her hair, the curve of her hip, her pretty smile. Her eyes had locked with his for half a heartbeat and he’d felt it in his belly. A rolling, like waves in a stormy ocean.
She’d gone about her business, efficiently fulfilling her duties while the guests all spoke animatedly around him. He’d joined in after reigning in his reaction, but she’d taken every ounce of his attention with her.
He’d negotiated her purchase the next day.
-
She was quick. She learned everything faster than a lot of the others in his service, and she seemed to anticipate his needs before he spoke them. Most of the time, he barely needed to say anything at all, and so he kept quiet. Kept his thoughts, and his feelings to himself.
His biggest need though, was her. He wanted her bad enough to hurt, to ache.
He was well aware of the practices in other houses. Slaves were there to obey, and in most houses that meant obeying with work, and with their bodies. He saw no issue in this, it was the way of the world. No matter how badly he wanted her though, he couldn’t make himself order her to spread her legs for him. Maybe it was a foolish, childish thing but he wanted her to crave it just as he did. He wanted her wet, he wanted her begging for him, he wanted to see pleasure and lust on her pretty face.
He wanted her to want him.
A year passed, and every second in her presence was exquisite torture. A torture he submitted himself to freely and with a perverse pleasure. It was a test of endurance, until the fateful night she’d come to him with her wet tunic, all of her body on display through the sheer fabric. The shadow of her cunt had sent him into a frenzy and when she’d come back and caught him fucking his fist he’d thought it was just another form of punishment.
It was that look on her face though, that heavy lidded, open mouthed way she stared at him, nipples hardening that had finally made him crack.
That first night he’d taken her, he’d stayed up in his bed, almost blinded with want. Her body had not alleviated the craving for her, if anything, it’d only made it worse. He’d replayed their encounter over and over, obsessed with the taste of her on his fingers, obsessed with the feel of her lips on his. From then on, she’d only cemented her hold on him. Her quiet obedience, her subtle seduction, the way she’d managed to scrape the shape of herself onto his brain.
She’d made herself the figurehead in his mind, the holy place at which he prayed, the Goddess he served. If he could, he’d light a thousand candles at the altar of her cunt, and pray to them daily.
He fought harder to return to her, he took note of her wants, of her preferences, and made sure to cater to her, despite no one in the house, not even her realizing. He dismissed the younger boys that lusted after her, he was covetous of her to the point of violence. A small smile from her could dictate his mood. The thought of her in pain made him feel like some feral wolf caught in a trap, ready and willing to chew part of himself away to reach her.
Sometimes, after he’d spilled inside her, he’d let her fall asleep in his bed and relish the way she clung to him in her sleep. It was a double edged sword though, their stations in this life. A part of him fears that her want is only an act, a way to endear herself to him, her Dominus. A foundation to earn her freedom, or coin, or influence through him but then he sees the shy way she smiles at him and his fears are silenced to nothing.
She cannot fake the way she flutters around his cock, she cannot pretend to feel nothing, not when he sees the same jealousy he feels shining through her eyes at the mention of the mostly political proposals he’s denied. The things she says, the way she takes her pleasure from him, all of these things only compound his delusions that just maybe, she feels for him a fraction of what he feels for her.
It’s a sort of madness, truly, how that part of him that was the perpetual soldier had in so many respects switched their roles, had given her a control–a power he was sure she didn’t realize she had.
He was sick with want for her, ravenous, and yet unable to soften himself in a way that would make her see the truth, make her see just how much she truly meant to him. He couldn’t make himself show her, that whatever she asked of him, he’d do with a smile.
For now at least.
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#marcus acacius#marcus acacias x reader#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius x you#general marcus acacius#general acacius#marcus acacius x female reader#marcus acacius smut#marcus acacius fanfiction#gladiator 2#gladiator ii
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Kind of a dumb request but how about team DEFY + any girls you want with an s/o who somehow managed to build a mech straight out of Armored Core? Insanely maneuverable, loads of guns, can fly, etc and s/o built it in a garage with a box of scraps lol
(GFL/Genshin Impact) Task Force DEFY, Amber, Jean, Fischl, and Yoimiya's S/O building an Armored Core Mech
(Video Source: Pongsifu on YT) Luckily for you, I have been binging Armored Core 6 for the past month, and will hop on ANY request to talk/write about anything Mecha related.
12 stared at the giant 10 meter mechanical behemoth that had suddenly made its home inside Griffin's Hangar.
(AK-12) "...We didn't always have that, right?"
The machine's chest slowly opened and revealed a cockpit containing S/O, waving hello from the seat.
Apparently, they had constructed the mech out of spare parts lying around.
(AK-12) "Impressive...But, why exactly did Griffin have that many parts lying around? And how did you find guns that big?"
On the battlefield, she watches the mech fly around at almost breakneck speed, watching them zip around and eradicate one base after the other.
Kicking tanks and shooting helicopters out of the sky, it was far more effective to watch them fight instead of having to do anything.
(AK-12) "Hm. We'll be out of a job at this rate."
94 knew this was going to happen.
T-Dolls would only last so long on the battlefield before they were replaced by the next best thing.
However, she sure as hell wasn't expecting S/O of all people to surpass her, with a mech constructed out of junk parts no less.
It was honestly awe-inspiring what humans could engineer for the sole purpose of destruction.
And it was also physically impossible. Something that size should not be quad-wielding miniguns and moving that fast.
(AN-94) "...How has your machine not collapsed from the Earth's gravity?"
94 is more confused than anything.
15 was impressed more than anything.
She knew S/O was an engineer, but to construct a mech out of the parts they had was nothing short of a miracle and logic-defying technical prowess.
(AK-15) "How does your machine constantly reload the missiles while on the field? It is the only weapon you seem to have, and no one constructed missiles that large, even during World War 3."
She can't help but wonder why DEFY was even needed if Griffin had engineers like S/O around.
Well, at least S/O was on their side.
(RPK-16) "I wonder if humanity will wipe itself out faster with these new machines."
16 is fascinated by the human desire to make machines to wipe out life faster.
Granted, Griffin usually just fought Sangvis which consisted nothing of machines, but it would only be a matter of time until everyone else had their own version of S/O's mech.
And probably not one constructed out of junk either.
(RPK-16) "I must ask, S/O. How can you be in the cockpit of that thing and not reduce yourself to jelly? Surely the G-Force alone would kill you?"
Well, it's not the first thing that humans have done that confused her.
(Angelia) "Hmph. Why did they even bother calling us if they had you here? And could you have done that this entire time?"
Angelia is impressed and annoyed.
If S/O could create a hulking machine of death before, why did they only decide to do it now?
She both dreads and admired S/O's tenacity. To make such an effective machine out of junk took a hell of a lot of elbow grease.
Angelia doesn't question it, seeing that it's working alright so far, but she definitely wants to look into upgrading it.
(Angelia) "S/O, with me. We're painting DEFY's logo on it."
(Amber) "THAT IS SO COOL!"
Amber could create Baron Bunnies with a lot of yarn, but S/O could make a machine that dwarfed Ruin Guards with some random pieces of metal!
(Amber) "You have got to teach me how to do that! And lemme ride it too!"
Amber demands to fly with S/O, even though she can't go nearly as fast as they can.
She watches as S/O wipes out entire nests of monsters before leaping away with its mantis-like legs to the next location.
Honestly, it made her feel jealous.
(Amber) "Heeey, can I ask one of those for my birthday! I bet it'll make flying around Mondstadt a breeze!"
Though as the outrider, she kindly asks S/O not to park the giant machine weighing presumably hundreds of tons in the city.
For obvious reasons.
The color on Jean's skin fades when she heard Klee helped S/O build a brand new toy.
One that put her bombs to shame.
And seeing it park itself next to the cathedral, waving hello to her as she was standing at the entrance-
She was about ready to faint.
(Jean) "S/O! Get down from there right this instant!"
Jean gives S/O and Klee an earful for making such an absolute monstrosity that could potentially damage the land and city!
But seeing it in action and fast it disposed of a Hilichurl camp, it filled her with pride and dread.
Pride for her S/O's creative ingenuity, but absolute fear for what S/O and Klee could make next.
Especially considering how fast S/O's machine moved, and the weapons it had.
Where did Klee find the gunpowder for quad-cannons mounted on it?!
(Jean) "I pray that it won't blow up the city on accident..."
(Fischl) "...WHAT?!"
Fischl completely breaks character upon seeing the giant machine staring at her.
(Fischl) "How did...Why...?! Get down from there and tell me how this mechanical monstrosity came to be!"
(Oz) "You just want to ride the machine yourself, Mein-"
(Fischl) "SILENCE!"
...But yes, she constantly nags S/O to let their Prinzessin give the machine a try.
She finds it so friggin' cool, and desperately wants one of her own, in purple!
She watches with some kind of morbid satisfaction watching S/O's machine wipe out their enemies in electrical explosions.
(Fischl) "I hereby dub your steel horse…Raven, of the 621th star!"
(Oz) "…Why 621?"
Oh, that's where all of Yoimiya's spare fireworks have been going into.
(Yoimiya) "HOLY CRAP! What on earth did you make, S/O?!"
The machine seemed like it leapt from another world!
Especially with how fast it moved, honestly she was amazed S/O wasn't vomiting their guts out as soon as they exited.
While it seemed like it would do massive damage, instead they used it for something even better.
As the machine soared above the skies of Inazuma, the cannons on the arms and shoulders fired toward the moon, the starry night exploding into hundreds of beautiful colors!
They had transformed their machine into a firework powerhouse!
And with how fast it moved, it was able to provide a show from one island to another!
(Yoimiya) "Next festival, you're letting me ride with you! I want to see the work we've done up close!"
#girls' frontline x reader#genshin impact x reader#ak 12 x reader#an 94 x reader#ak 15 x reader#rpk 16 x reader#angelia x reader#amber genshin impact x reader#jean gunnhildr x reader#fischl x reader#yoimiya x reader#ak 12 gfl#an 94 gfl#ak 15 gfl#rpk 16 gfl#angelia gfl#amber genshin impact#jean gunnhildr#fischl von luftschloss narfidort#yoimiya genshin impact#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact headcanons#girls' frontline imagines#girls' frontline headcanons
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i wanna know what’s your theory on what happened to johan after the ending since it’s up to the audiences imagination yk?
THANK YOU FOR ASKING MY THOUGHTS ON THIS ANON! I give you kiss ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ I'm going to diverge more on headcanons of him in another post. These are just my nonsensical interpretations of Johan after monster.
(tw: talks of multiple suicide attempts (all failed though don't worry))
Another anon of mine sent another similar ask (will post said ask shortly as it dwelves more into the x reader aspects hehe) gave the description of post-monster/ post-rurenheim johan as "a juxtaposition to his regular omnipotent self" which is a 1000% perfect way on how I'd describe him post-monster/post-rurenheim.
I really do believe that although he still has a prowess for manipulation skills and psychology after monster, he wouldn't have as much charisma as before. Part of his godly charisma came from the fact that he himself has no identity so he can fine tune himself to anyone (presenting himself with such a pleasing expression and personality, his agreeability with some would come from his own lack of personall thoughts). But now that he's got his own individuality and a name, he wouldn't bother with being agreeable anymore, as it isn't as natural for him anymore.
It's kind of why he doesn't even bother keeping a soft smile anymore at the end of monster when he was confronting dr tenma. He's not trying to be approachable anymore, and instead opts to actually showing how he's feeling rn. Instead of just using a pleasant expression as a placeholder on his face. I mean just look at the stark difference:
All the trauma and stress has finally catched up to him and has even taken a PHYSICAL toll on his body as well. I haven't noticed it before as I thought it was just an art style, but you can can notice that over time after he uncovers his past since the library, his face actually starts growing eye bags
like he is TIRED. He cannot do this anymore, he's burnt out. Which is the number one characterization I would give him post-monster.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE when he is interpreted as still having that small serene smile on his face and living his life calmly after monster. I subscribe to that characterization and would write him like that too, especially if we're going to interpret it as it being second nature or muscle memory for him to have that politeness. —It's just another part of me loves the idea that him being slightly rude and unapproachable even. A part of his reclaiming of his own humanity, is him not keeping up appearances anymore. He doesn't need to keep up politeness and being friendly anymore.
Another thing I can see him doing for a while is actually being quite... listless? If that makes sense. Like he would just do a good solid nothing for a while. Walk around in parks and other places trying to take in the world around him again. Trying to grasp life after losing his inner monster/kinderheim programming/fucked up coping mechanism.
He might try bars now and other social gatherings to see the hype and try to feel something. But maybe it just makes him feel all the more alienated and detached from society. Imagine being surrounded by so much people but still feel so alone. He'd feel all the more disconnected from humanity.
--- talks of suicide start here ---
Kind of dark here but I think this might lead him to trying to attempt at ending his life again. He sees it so pointless now and his entire focal point has been shattered
He knows him and his sister aren't the same people anymore, he knows that he doesn't have to keep living his life as her shadow/half a person/the "worse" version of her. But man... after 20+ years of living like that it's really gonna hit once you realise that you can't do your sole life goal anymore...
His despair might come in the form of him genuinely not knowing how to live. Throughout monster it kinda felt like he was on autopilot, his own individuality and sense of self taking a backseat. So imagine out of nowhere the plane's crashing and you're suddenly put in the driver's seat all of a sudden when, you didn't even bother learning how to drive or fly this thing in the first place because 1.) You were convinced you didn't need to drive ever, you were forcefully stuffed in the plane's cargo by adults who traumatized you, 2.) You didn't even know you'd be flying this long.
(sorry for the plane analogy i'm just rambling my raw thoughts 💀 but yes man is lowkey crashing and burning)
If we're gonna put it in a smaller more related level, imagine your entire life you grew up trained to be like...like an archaeologist or something, like your childhood bedroom had archaeology stuff, you were raised to study archaeology and only archaeology, you excelled at it, you had the gear for archaeology, you're in college studying archaeology and even having a specific vision in your mind of you being an archaeologist....the only thoughts you grew up with is you and archaeology.
Only to find out from nowhere that you never actually were into archaeology. And that you liking archaeology (aka your hobby/interest, your entire IDENTITY) was conditioned and instilled into you by weird freaky scientists when you were a child. You find out that you actually had a personality BEFORE archaelogy, and now you're 20 and you've spent more than a decade of your life dedicated to archaeology only to find out that maybe this whole time archaeology isn't even a thing you liked in the first place.
yeah that's basically the library revelation. HAFHDJAH archaeology being his "monster".
And now you're wandering through life, that isn't about you being an archaeologist..... OF COURSE YOU'D FUCKING DESPAIR. What are you even supposed to do now????
But funnily enough, Naoki Urusawa says that monster is actually a dark comedy in his eyes (Lmaooo just as I thought. I was giggling watching monster), so in true shakespearean tragic-comedy fashion, Johan's attempt here might become a fail. Divine intervention if you will.
But worry not friends, as this suicide attempt of his was made when his monster was gone, where his coolness and emotional detachment are also gone. So I think him doing a suicide attempt post-monster might actually, in some miraculous roundabout way.... scare him a bit for the first time.
I think the scene/poem "The View from Halfway Down" from "Bojack Horseman" is the best way to describe how I see he'll start feeling things.
He'd wonder why his heart is beating suddenly and why a cold sweat is forming on his face and on his palms, and why his breathing is out of control. He's confused as hell as to why his adrenaline spiked up. He walked on the ledges of rooftops, the number of times he's had guns pointed at him is more than the fingers on his hands, he died twice for goodness sakes. So why?...why is he feeling this all of a sudden? he'd start to grow a bit frustrated because this doesn't. make. sense.
If we're still gonna go with the dark comedy route, we could write him as him trying and trying again to off himself💀i'm so sorry. I'm just rolling with Urusawa's vision here of him saying monster is a dark comedy. Each time Johan attempts with ending his life, it would just fail.
But if he got spooked off on his first suicide attempt post-monster, he'd probably stop after that one. Not because he wants to keep living, but because his stupid (incredible) brain chemicals keep making his body hesitate to off himself.
He'd be pissed at his own fear. I could see him actually almost tearing up in frustration at what's happening. He's never had to deal with shit like this before, he never hesitated, he never had to feel fear, hell— he didn't even have to LIVE before. He wasn't actually living during his time as "Johan Liebert". He didn't get the same agency to fully explore and navigate his own life in his own time like every other human being. He doesn't want to try. He just wants to end himself— and he can't even do that anymore. He's so frustrated, and pissed, and he's honestly just so... lost.
Buuuut! To quote Tom Hanks from "Castaway":
I was gonna die there, totally alone. I was gonna get sick, or get injured or something. The only choice I had, the only thing I could control was when, and how, and where it was going to happen. So... I made a rope and I went up to the summit, to hang myself. I had to test it, you know? Of course. You know me. And the weight of the log, snapped the limb of the tree, so I-I - , I couldn't even kill myself the way I wanted to. I had power over *nothing*. And that's when this feeling came over me like a warm blanket. I knew, somehow, that I had to stay alive. Somehow. I had to keep breathing. Even though there was no reason to hope. And all my logic said that I would never see this place again. So that's what I did. I stayed alive. I kept breathing. And one day my logic was proven all wrong because the tide came in, and gave me a sail."
He'd then sigh softly and shake his head...maybe let out a small sardonic laugh. Ah, how fate really does love to mess with him. Some higher being out there is really taking the piss with him, wasn't it? Because maybe.... just maybe. He kind of realises that Dr. Tenma and Nina were right.
I think this is the point where he'd kinda like.... cancel out nihilism WITH nihilism.
" I found everything pointless... until I realised even that was pointless" kinda vibe
Hope this satisfied your question anon! My thoughts are not organized here so pardon :)! Also please excuse if my tone in the more serious parts sounds a bit too light.
Thank you for reading and and asking me anon! ˘ ³ ˘ mwuah!!
#will tag and proofread later im so sleepyyy#c.johan liebert#johan liebert#monster anime#tw suicide ideation#tw mention of suicide#suusoh answers
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was tagged by @beatriceportinari 2 list my top 10 first watch movies of this year and since my brain is a hole it took a while to remember but here are my rankings from da "worst" to da BEST
10. cemetery man - when that bus of schoolkids careened off the cliff i thought i was going to shit myself in the theater with how hard i was laughing. otherwise just fun and campy
9. bronson - very winding refn. tom hardy is such a treat always. a fun creative venture, but unfortunately the back and forth bored me too much to enjoy the storyline as i probably should have. i would still recommend it for a nice evening watch tho
8. the devil's bath - interesting sleeper pick i stumbled upon at the theater, really loved the cyclical stories playing hand in hand with one another, especially in conjunction with the rendition of 'female madness'. beautifully filmed without being too heavy-handed
7. arrival - to tack onto the cyclical storytelling i loved the, no pun, loops this story wove within itself. villeneuve at some of his finest work, and tickled something fun within me as a language enjoyer TM. lost ranking for romance+family nonsense as a personal pick but i also saw dune pt 2 this year and enjoyed this so much more.
6. ed wood - if tim burton and johnny depp kept on this sort of path i would be more prone to enjoying anything either of them had done ever. probably my favorite collaboration between the two. johnny's ed charmed me to bits with his fun quirkiness and I LOOOOOOOOVED MARTIN LANDAU'S BELA LUGOSI SO MUCH!!!!!!!! great sets great acting loved every single character and their relationships. watched for halloweentime and may do so every year because i loved it so much
5. rosemary's baby - somehow this was the first year i watched this movie probably because i saw the last scene when i was 10 and it freaked me out so bad i had to wait 20 more years to watch it, which was a wise decision on my part because i appreciated the true horror of it all, which was the atmosphere. sinister, foreboding, eyes constantly on mia farrow but you could never really see them, but you just knew something was going on. and, of course, the s/a scene was so terrifying in its own right that i can still hear mia farrow's "this isn't a dream, this is really happening!" line in my head
4. trainspotting - i could talk pages about the scene with the baby passing away and everyone immediately shooting up in grief, or the suppository scene, or the withdrawal scene, and how hilariously tragic the entire story is, especially as someone who has enjoyed irvine welsh's writing since i was a teenager but IT'S SHITE BEING SCOTTISH, WE'RE THE LOWEST OF THE LOW, THE SCUM OF THE FUCKING EARTH, THE MOST WRETCHED, MISERABLE, SERVILE, PATHETIC TRASH THAT WAS SHAT INTO CIVILIZATION, SOME PEOPLE HATE THE ENGLISH, I DON'T! THEY'RE JUST WANKERS! WE ON THE OTHER HAND ARE COLONIZED BY WANKERS! CAN'T EVEN FIND A DECENT CULTURE TO BE COLONIZED BY! WE'RE RULED BY EFFETE ASSHOLES! laid into me, man
3. robocop - ROBOCOP SHOT THAT MAN IN THE DICK!!!!!!!! otherwise was just SO MUCH FUN, blood and spatter and the melding of man and machine, the loss of humanity and question of law and order, with INCREDIBLE filmmaking prowess by verhoeven as always. my stomach lurched the entire way that robocop became robocop, especially the new year's scene where everyone treated him as a prop despite him at his core being human. i expected to feel more miserable with this one but wound up having a GREAT time
2. clerks - shit on me all you like for taking so long to watch this movie in full but i watched it on physical media given to me from my dad and now i can't stop quoting it. hashtag me of all time. after all, i don't watch movies
1. anatomy of a fall - hands down my favorite film of the year. watched it on a whim and didn't feel like a second of the 3hr runtime was wasted, and barely even noticed that it was 3hrs in the first place. near perfect execution in all regards. minimal soundtrack cemented the story with proper gravitas, told a story of an inter-european immigrant family with mastery, never was overbearing for a second, gorgeous scenery, natural script. a heartbreaking mystery that never once jumped the gun or felt hamfisted or felt full of itself. it just really is such an incredible story let alone movie that i don't hesitate to say will find few rivals for the rest of the 2020s.
usernames with e, l, h, n, and y are tagged :P
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So uh- Crisis after a non descript little Guy au adventure , it's all silly , there are mentions of surgery but no gore! Have fun under the cut ↓
Crisis felt exhausted. Physically exhausted to be specific. Getting back to the lab she found herself collapsing into a familiar wheeled chair. She had plenty of notes on many people. The kids were most important along with Dr. Cross. When she had gotten there all of the children seemed fine outside of obvious things. Opening her notebook she sighs observing all the notes she'd taken of the universe.
Little William, or Sprite as Crisis has personally taken to calling him, was missing an eye and seemed to have scarring indicating he'd been bisected vertically. She simply didn't press any further than that, opting to give the kid a piggyback ride and talk about what she knew of ghosts and spirits upon his request.
Next was Little Dakota who she’d taken to calling Spark, held similar powers to Safeguard different injuries and an avoidance when taking about what happened just that he doesn't like doctors. After questioning he'd dragged Spark and herself off to meet the rest of their friends. Crisis notes that he does seem to have some form or separation anxiety and prefers not to get to far from any of the others unless necessary.
Little Virion Vyncent which she'd taken to calling trainee was excitable and very eager to grab at her magic items. Ultimately puppy dog eyes got to her and Crisis did end up parting with a particularly shiny bracelet that she seemed har little magical value.
Trick and little Ashe,the latter now noted as Fledgling ( she's not the best at names ) were Interesting in their own rights, Fledglings abilities that are sure to grow with the more they learn are already sharp and they don't show any prowess for magic yet. Trick on the other hand has both skills and magic, testing her own magic with Trick’s was left with failure and both of them out of commission for at least an hour with what the kids described as red lightning dancing over both of them . Crisis did not fail to mention she's still seeing sparks over the matter even after trying home, she hopes Trick is okay.
Crisis got pictures with them of course but also made the effort to sketch all of them down. She'd certainly have to come back to do further exploration, but she ached after the magic test and she had wanted to go home to Safeguard, her Tide, and her Father ( both of which she still hasn't come up with names for.). Bidding the kids a goodbye and meanderings through a portal of her own making.
Closing her notes she sat up bones aching and her thoughts collected, Crisis could share the information with Professor Cross later. Grabbing her things and moving from the lab to the lobby. Taking out her phone she checks for a text before calling Safeguard. Per usual he picked up at the first ring a chipper tone on his voice.
“Cici! I'm almost done and Tide said he'd be here soon, are you heading out again or are we all heading home together?”
“Safety straps! Hey, yeah. I'm in the lobby. I'll wait.”
She sighed letting safeguard ramble on about his day for a bit before he mentioned he'd be in the lobby soon. When he did join her in the lobby she was met with a tight hug from behind.
“Tide’s here so we can go home unless you're going to do anything.”
“Magics fucked. I need you, some music, and a good dinner. Maybe a nap too. Regardless we're listening to music in the car, I've got a new playlist from the universe I was in. Lot of the songs are kid-friendly though”
“Sounds good, but I do have a surprise for you!”
Glancing back at Safeguard, Crisis raised an eyebrow humming as they walked out to Tides car. Safeguard briefly ran a head, grinning as he opened the door and pulled out a familiar and excited mass of fur.
“Bobo’s back!”
Quickly Crisis rushed up to greet the spider monkey cradling him in her arms as she joined Safeguard in the car
“Safeguard, our son is home!!”
The rest of the car ride is comfortable music playing between them all, Crisis leaning against Safeguard tiredly and Bobo nestled between them. It was perfect and she'd be damned to say she didn't love it.
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Alright so, there's a lot of little angles to this and they all sort of rush through my brain at once so let me try and lay them out in something like an order.
The Tories are in a bad place. We're all very happy about this. The Tories themselves, however, are reacting to their looming, inevitable defeat by basically frothing at the mouth and screaming. One the one hand you have them scrabbling for every attention-grabbing idea they can lay their hands on like how someone sliding towards a cliff might scrabble for something to stop them falling to their death.
Uh, Angela Rayner did, uh, a thing! Uh, Rwanda! Yeah! Immigrant on a plane to Rwanda! Uh, fuck, uh, benefits! Sick note Britain, yeah! One of these has to got work, right? Right?! Please God one of these has to work!
So that's happening. And alongside that, you have the internal conflict of which of them gets to be King Rat of the Sinking Ship. You know, the dregs of the dregs racing to slit one another's throat to be the one in charge.
Speaking of which, Penny Mordaunt.
Basically, what set me off was an interview she has apparently done wherein which she said the UK simply must invest the Iron Dome system or something of nature of ward off attacks like the one what Iran did against Israel. And, like...
Okay.
Here's an actual pull quote:
She told The Sunday Telegraph: “To those that say about our defence ambitions ‘we can’t do, shouldn’t do or can’t afford to do’, I say ‘look to Israel’ – a nation a fraction of our size, that has staved off an attack from a nation 10 times its size.
One. Israel is much smaller then the UK. Like, much smaller. The area they have to possibly defend is smaller and, also, more concentrated. The economics involved in scaling up a system like Iron Dome to defend the whole of the UK blows my mind - especially as it's a system designed to counteract a specific security threat we don't have!
But we'll get to that.
Two, it doesn't really fucking matter that Iran is bigger than Israel, does it? They weren't invading, they were firing a lot of drones and shit. Iran may be physically bigger and more populous than Israel but Israel's military budget (and level of development, and investment) kicks the shit out of Iran's. So who gives a fuck if Iran is bigger when that wasn't even a factor?
Three, not to do down Israel's military prowess (not for nothing do people buy their shit) but having heaps of military assets from heaps of allies (including us!) in the area to provide support probably didn't fucking hurt and, in fact, explicitly helped because it's been stated that it helped!
And look, fuck...
It's a nothingburger, I'm aware. She's just taking the current issue of "Oh the world is a dangerous place and we need to defend our citizens rahrah!" that is seen as important here and the "Oh look, Iran attacked Israel!" and mashing them together, but it's such an incoherent, stupid position it hurts my brain.
Who. Who would be attacking us Penny? Were they be attacking us from? Iran is not that far from Israel in the scheme of things. Who do we have nearby who would do this to us, Penny? We make jokes about Europe and the Irish but those jokes aren't going to translate into actual drone attacks, Penny. What the fuck are you talking about, Penny? Do you have something in mind?
Maybe we could use the money that might go into your batshit insane useless fucking waste of an idea and, I don't know, get some dentists?
Seriously, where would a massive drone and missiles attack on the UK come from? I know we live in the future but not that far in the future.
And she's not the only one!
Admiral Lord West, the former First Sea Lord, said: “The bottom line is that if we had 300 missiles fired at us, we wouldn’t be able to repel them in the way that Israel did, albeit with help from the US, the Jordanians and so on. We have nothing like the Iron Dome and I think there is a need for us to ensure we have that.”
What in the fuck are you talking about.
You know when it snowed a few years back and all the flights got cancelled and people were like "Well in Finland this never happens" and it was like, yeah, because this happens all the time so they plan around it. Israel has the Iron Dome for very specific reasons. Is Israel prepared for a volcano erupting? No? Because that's not a concern and so why would they fucking waste their time and money on it? Oh, fancy that!
Argh! What is wrong with you people?!
The things you're saying are stupid! The situations you're conjuring up are stupid! Or am I just losing my mind?!
I'm so tired!
Why can't you people just lose and go away already?!
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I've seen a bit of an influx of "Arcane writes strong women better than any other media, here's why" videos on youtube and I don't necessarily disagree, but there is a part of me that wonders if it's not due to the fact that most of the media that did it "poorly" is not animated.. let me explain,
one of the common things that people having been saying about "other" media in these videos is that it's not Realistic for them to be that physically capable, or the other women are Overpowered (again, talking physically, here). but Arcane's fight scenes aren't exactly realistic either. Vi takes down a ton of grunts solo as a teenager, how is that not overpowered? we're shown why she's able to do that, we're shown that she has a lot of practice and has a mentor who gives good feedback on her abilities, but, i still dunno if i'd call it realistic. I feel like most characters would be dead several times over if they got the beatdowns they're constantly getting in arcane.
a smallll part of me wonders if Vi's (and Sevika's) prowess is seen as more acceptable because she's, well. Beefy. she and Sevika are both jacked, have muscular bodies, broad shoulders, etc. and in mainstream movies, the women cast to be in these other Strong Female Character roles usually... aren't.
I'm not sure, and I know there is definitely more that goes into this, a lot of the time people do cite that Vi has mentorship and we see her progress whereas other Strong Fighty Women in media just sort of pop into existence, and that Vi fights for someone, Sevika fights for an ideal rather than herself, those things are more compelling. But I have to wonder when it comes to it being "unrealistic" specifically if people don't have some bit of subconscious judgment that the women in live action media don't look like they'd be capable of that.
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so me and my siblings usually have 'talks' over genshin characters.
last time it was abt me simping for zhongli and al haitham.
in the end the conclusion was:
1. zhongli would be a good match for me because his personality compliments mine.
2. al haitham would also be a good match for me because we are nearly the same person. i'm smart just not as smart as him but he's also very much someone with physical prowess which by any means i am not.
I felt like sharing this to a fellow zhongli and al haitham enjoyer.
hmmmm.... if we're talking very realistically here...
for me, i'd actually say that al haitham would suit me more irl. he's very low-maintenance, i'm very low-maintenance, and we would both do our own things and just cuddle at the end of a day lol also he's very logical. i'm very emotional. we both like coffee. we both want work life balance, no huge ambitions, and just want a peaceful life.
zhongli would match well with me to, but sometimes i think he might become a little too overbearing, if that makes sense? ik he would be very understanding and would give me my own space, but i feel like given the opportunity he's the type who would want to spend time with you at all times, constantly... which would tire me out eventually.
#rin answers#rin is having tea with: anon 💟#rin selfships#zhongrin#meitham#zhongrin is still my main ship and all but if we're talking about irl then meitham wins lol#the me yall see online is most of the time is the sunshine part of me#off tumblr i need a lot of alone time lol
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OC Asks with your Loki/TVA OC (I haven't heard much about her yet and want to change that :D )
🐁🎲📚
🥞🌌🕐
Ah yes, Olivia, my first major OC, let's absolutely talk about her! Thanks for the ask! I'm tired, I burned my hand at work, and I only have a little bit of popcorn in my system, but screw it!
🐁 - Capybaras are friend-shaped. What shape does your OC have?
(Wow I can't believe there's no capybara emoji... tragic)
Hmm... you know, in an ironic twist, I would go as far to say she's Blue Rose Shaped. I think being rose-shaped means that you're very loving and beautiful when handled correctly, but you can also be prickly and even harmful if handled incorrectly.
I say blue rose specifically for the thematicness, but also for the general exoticness. She's a being from Asgard, she's an alien. She's not a natural being of Earth, just as (I'm pretty sure at least) blue roses don't grow naturally here.
🎲 - If your OC played a pen-and-paper RPG, what class would they pick?
I think it's funny you ask this since I literally have every facet of Emily's hypothetical Dungeons and Dragons character tabbed in my player handbook. But Olivia...
You know what, she would 100% be into TTRPG games, especially since, in a way, she herself is a fantasy character. I think as far as classes go, she'd either pick Mage if she wants to be more true to herself (since she is a magic user), but I thinl she'd also have a lot of fun playing as a Rogue. I think she likes playing as a Tiefling (my favorite race to play), but is also fond of being an elf.
She always plays a Chaotic alignment, no matter what.
📚 - Your OC has to improvise a 10 minute lecture on a topic of their choosing. What do they choose?
Olivia is well-versed in a lot of topics. She, like Loki, prefers mental sharpness over aggressive prowess in battle (she's still a skilled fighter, don't get me wrong). But I'll give two answers on this, a more serious one and a more goofy one.
One of Olivia's favorite things to study happened to be the nature of the Infinity Stones, even before they became an active part of her life. Canonically she's one of the first people to understand what exactly their dealing with during the Battle of New York in 2012. She knew the Tesseract was the Space Stone and she knew Loki's scepter housed the Mind Stone and was influencing him to some degree. And, in my version of Avengers: Endgame, she actually is the one who does most of the presenting about what the Infinity Stones are to the rest of the Avengers. So, serious answer, Infinity Stones.
Now a more goofy answer. If the Avengers decided to genuinely have a Presentation Night (my friends and I are super close to getting ours put together and my topic is... I'm gonna get yelled at for sure), I think she would give an entire in depth Exposé presentation on how the most random human events were just she, Thor, Loki, and the other Asgardians goofing around and messing with the people of Earth. So, for example, she'd explain that Loki was DB Cooper and provide an entire breakdown on the reasons, timeline, etc (Tony loses his fucking mind over that one). It seems kind of like a tame presentation, but she knows revealing this would elicit so many hilarious reactions from the others (it did) and did it primarily for that reason.
🥞 - Does your OC take proper care of themselves, like getting enough sleep and eating properly?
This is an interesting one since the answer varies depending on which "self care" aspect we're talking about.
Eating right and working out, she's great at. Asgard is a planet of warriors and even if she's not a beefcake like Thor or some of the other women, she's still very physically fit. She has to be if she's gonna keep up on the field of battle. And her diet also reflects this, she knows her food groups and knows what she needs to eat. That being said, she will raid the cabinets at the Avengers compound for sweets, either because she's craving it or just to annoy Tony.
Her sleep schedule is... complicated. Olivia is the Goddess of Dreams, so when she sleeps she has to do her deific duty (please ignore the logicstic of time since I'm not entirely sure how that works either... something something Asgard's time works different than ours). This means basically going from person to person across the Nine Realms and more or less moderating dreams.
She doesn't create them since our brains do that themselves, but she can alter them and shape them from the Spirit Plane the Valkyries use to guide souls to Valhalla (she's become very well acquainted with them over the years). She does this while she sleeps, sure, but it's still taxing since her brain is still working in a semi-conscious state. It's not like she just never gets proper rest, I'd say it's more like she's asleep for eight hours but only maybe gets six hours worth of actual rest across those eight hours. Usually this means she sleeps in to compensate. She can go to bed at 10 PM, in theory she needs eight hours of rest, so instead of a 6 AM wake up, it's maybe a 8 or 9 AM wake up. It's later than most of the other Avengers.
Her dream walking is complicated, but basically her sleep schedule is very weird because sleeping is arguably like a softer version of clocking in for work.
As for taking care of her mental health... listen, she's either the most positive, happy person with the best quality of life or she's... how do I put this... only slightly better off than Marcus from Twilight (actually context considered that's actually a very valid parallel at certain points). It really depends on where in her timeline/what timeline she's in.
If we're pre 2011, she's doing great. Her mental health takes a dip during and especially after the events of the first Thor movie (because, you know, she thinks Loki fucking DIED). It's a steady low through 2012 and the Battle of New York, but it slowly gets back up to a high point after the events of Dark World (Loki survives in my version and gets to go be an Avenger on Earth, fun!) It goes to I'll say a steady medium during the events of Ragnarok... and then it fucking plummets after Infinity War and that five year gap. But after that gets resolved she's able to fully heal and settle down.
Olivia's operating on different settings in A Song of Stars and Magic since she's Morally Bankrupt. In general though it's not really great. Her mental instability is a large plot point (I based her personality partly on Season 3 Azula from A:tLA and made plenty of references as such) and like most people who got ultimate power like she and Loki did, she's constantly Paranoid about rebellious mindsets and dissent. She enjoys the power trip and one could argue that her having this level of control after the tumultuousness of what came prior is a huge mood booster, but in general she's taking care of herself, just not in any of the right ways.
Olivia in the TVA/Loki Series AU I'd place somewhere in the general middle. There's a lot going on, many existential crisises, and the general disembodiment that comes from being taken from your timeline because of Nexus Events... and trying to overthrow an all powerful time organization. But she's also having fun. Mobius is her friend as much as he is Loki's, she gets to hang out with (i.e. catch mutual feelings for) Sylvie, and she gets to travel through time and just be chaotic... I guess we'll see how that goes for her when season 2 comes out, but as of right now she's... well, neither she or Loki are doing too great...
🌌 - If your OC has a nightmare, what is it most likely about?
Well, again, interesting question since she's a dream deity and has the power to create and manipulate other people's nightmares (again, a great indirect way to show her character's potential duality). She can't manipulate her own, though.
You know, I just remembered how after Multiverse of Madness came out and they said our dreams are our windows to the Multiverse, I said Olivia's accidentally a being who has some degree of Multiversal power (I gave her this deification waaaay before that came out, it became an accidental consequence... I like to headcanon she would have been in the Illuminati with Reed Richards and Co because of this power... and in that reality she's married to Lady Loki).
I digress, though, Olivia and Dreams are a very complex topic.
As far as her nightmares, ones featuring Loki's deaths are extremely common. Either reliving them in vivid, sometimes even exaggerated detail, or her brain coming up with new, horrific ways he could die (I pity her other Variants in the Multiverse who had to actually experience those).
Being abandoned is another one, although not nearly as frequent. The Asgardian Royal Family took her in after her parents died because her mother was close with Frigga, but she sometimes fears they will abandon her, especially after Frigga dies since she and Odin are not anywhere near on the best of terms. Or even the Avengers sending her away for any number of reasons.
But actually, during the events of Age of Ultron, Wanda gives Olivia a vision that's like a nightmare. 2012 haunts her because she and Loki were on opposite sides but there were many times she contemplated or got close to turning cloak and just joining him in conquest (A Song of Stars and Magic is a somewhat unique case, but still a good thing to keep in mind).
Years later she wonders how things could have ended differently had she caved to her darker impulses. Wanda shows her a reality where Olivia slaughtered the other Avengers for Loki because she wasn't going to let them stand in her way of becoming his queen. It's a very dark vision, but I think it shows how her morality is something she contemplates a lot and how close she got with the team since then. She'd think about other endings back in the early days without much weight since she didn't know everyone as well, but after spending more time with them, one of her worst fears is hurting them.
It's interesting.
🕐 - Was there ever a time your OC would have given everything to turn back the clock 5 minutes? What happened?
Plenty of times. So many horrible things happened that could have been avoided if something simple had changed even one or two minutes prior, let alone five. Not letting Loki fall into the wormhole during the events of Thor 1, being quicker to maybe save Coulson from his "death" (Agents of SHIELD aside), just being a little faster to save Frigga before she died (or even just Olivia skipping finding her sword in her room in the first place so she could go help sooner), not letting Hela get to Asgard, not letting Loki face down Thanos.
And that's just in the main timeline! There are plenty of decisions Olivia makes in Time Variance Detected she wishes she could have rewound (ironically enough). Not causing her Nexus Event, being more upfront about her feelings for Sylvie, the entire situation with He Who Remains, among others.
For the fun of it, I know for a fact in A Song of Stars and Magic, Olivia wishes she could have rewound time to not be so arrogantly assured Maya's revolution would fail and get cocky... or even just being better defended against the backup Asgard provided. A long time ago I wrote an unpublished alternate ending where all that made a difference was Olivia just magically locking the fucking door to the throne room before quickly locking Maya up and mind controlling the other Avengers. That's literally what made all the difference, and that took less than five minutes for sure.
Basically any way you slice it, Olivia's made many many mistakes that could be changed with a five minute rewind, but unfortunately that's just not how life works.
Even if at some point you do work for the TVA.
#fishgills speaks#ask game#oc ask game#emoji ask game#fishgills ocs#avengers oc#marvel oc#beloved mutuals#my inbox is open
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🚨 coolest lore post yet 🚨
SHADOW WIZARD MONEY GANG WE LOVE CASTING SPELLS. WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SAMI LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO
she honestly needs no introduction at this point but for the poor unfortunate souls who are just now hearing about her: this is sami (full name samidare), a carnivorous succubus who works very closely with the queen of harlots in her pursuit of bloodshed and takes care of her paperwork in the daytime. she's...quirked up you might say.
if you're unfamiliar she needs to eat flesh and blood to survive. oops (more on that here)
she's been around for just about as long as desire, and the two met before the advent of demonic scholars and timekeeping so we don't have any exact dates from before then. sami is her equal socially and in physical prowess, so perhaps that’s why they instantly took a liking to one another. that and they love bloodshed teehee ^_^ sami is a little less calculated in her approach than desire is but also considers violence an art form. she’s also dedicated to her work and loves logic puzzles you’ll find a ton of those on her desk
made immortal for the queen’s selfish whims, they have been made inseparable by circumstance and by choice. she has already long outlived others of her kind, the only person she knows will stick around is the queen obviously. they were forcibly bonded once the first apocalypse shook hell, with sami losing her last living relatives and desire having her family abandon her amidst the destruction to save themselves. left alone in a flooded and decaying wasteland for days, they had only themselves to rely on to stay alive. quite romantic innit
they spent their time post-reconstruction doing what warlords do i suppose; fighting separate battles and slaughtering in parallel, cleaning up and telling each other their tales at dinner. they got romantically involved with one another, sort of the logical next step; so intertwined in one another’s lives that leaving would be a fate worse than death.
one day desire just...woke up with the self-awareness that she was a fucking awful person. sami was willing to sacrifice a lot of her own desires to help her in getting better, but after a hundred years or so it was apparent that she didn’t want to change. she never wanted to. she wanted to masquerade as someone who knew better, someone who absolved themself of their previous sins. she gave up trying to help and instead tried convincing desire to stop lying to herself, and has been doing that ever since.
erm like and subscribe and i’ll tell you all why the angels are sentient
#this one has been in the drafts for a while bc i didn’t know how i wanted to format this oops#THIS IS NOT EXHAUSTIVE THOUGH. i’m sure there will be many addendum posts in the future#samiposting#loreposting#oubliette metro
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You do realize that the comment you made, "identify out of the role of the oppressor" treats genders like a monolith, as if all are the same, the exact issue that was being mentioned here, right? I'm 5'5 demisexual, I'm about as much threat to someone in that sort of space as a fucking leaf. I'm not part of your hypothetical monolith, I get followed to my car by creepy men, I have to carry pepper spray to be ready to defend myself anytime I'm out at night. I'm FAR more likely to be assaulted than your average cis person, and I lack the physical prowess to do anything about it. I'm the one all my cis friends go to talk to because I make them feel safe in vulnerable conversations, I'm the one that people ask for help, the one people trust and feel safe with. But, yeah, totally the oppressor, right? Definitely not me facing the same shit you do while ALSO having to deal with people like you trying to make it even harder for me, right? Oh wait.
Do you not realize what you're doing, that you're simply punching down to the next group in the same way you were? You have this straw man idea of who we are, that were the devil in your head, predators, opportunitists, waiting to strike. But we aren't, we're just trying to fucking survive. Every day. Every trans friend I have IRL has been sexually assaulted, they all have to carry protection because every single one of them has dealt with assault. You act like we're the monsters, but you're the one trying to punch down, to continue the fucking cycle of oppression to the next group, not us.
I have fought for my rights and I have fought for the rights of women, because it's the right thing to do. Because it's what should happen. I will fight for your reproductive rights every time, I will fight on your side every single time there is something raised to further hurt women, even ss you shit on me, and people like me, for having the audacity to try to survive and be able to live normal lives. I will do it because it's the right thing to do, I will do it because I love my friends, family, sisters, I will do it because I don't want anyone to experience pain, and I never want people to feel like I've felt. Can you say the same for me or am I just another monster in your eyes, another predator.
I don't even agree with the op, I don't actually think our society is ready for gender neutral everything, but I think part of that reason we are so far away is the monolithic thinking from people like you. People who are so convinced that all men are the image you think they are, and how that serves to reinforce the idea and enable systems that create more problems
It's disgusting. Yet, still, I will do everything I can to be at the next woman's march, I will vote against every single bill that negatively impacts cis women but wouldn't impact me. I will fight on your side, even as you spit on me, because you deserve rights, you deserve happiness, you deserve to be treated fairly, because it's the right fucking thing to do.
the idea that restrooms, locker rooms, etc need to be single-sex spaces in order for women to be safe is patriarchy's way of signalling to men & boys that society doesn't expect them to behave themselves around women. it is directly antifeminist. it would be antifeminist even if trans people did not exist. a feminist society would demand that women should be safe in all spaces even when there are men there.
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The Great Facade Swap: When Digits Play Dress-Up
In an age where pixels masquerade as reality, a curious pastime has emerged from the digital ether: the swapping of visages. Enter the stage, the Face Swapper—a tool as enigmatic as it is empowering. In thistheatre of bits and bytes, PPnude AI Face Swap online free tool holds court, crafting a silently spectacular sideshow of swapped mugshots.
Have you ever ogled at a photo and whispered, "What if?" Well, my dear voyeur of the virtual realm, wonder no more. PPnude grants you the digital alchemy to transform any face into any other, like a conjurer of the 21st century. But let's not mince words—this isn't about genuine change, it's about the grand illusion, a sleight of pixel, an exchange so seamless it makes the Mona Lisa reconsider her poker face.
Imagine, for a moment, a world where your own face is but a costume to be shed and donned at will. A mask, not of paper or cloth, but of ones and zeroes. The Face Swapper doesn't just give you new skin—it gifts you a new persona. And with PPnude, you're not just swapping faces; you're swapping souls, the digital kind, of course.
But let's be real—this isn't all highbrow artistry. It's also the playground of the cheeky and the mischievous. We're not talking mere Photoshop mischief here; this is deepfake dummy-dealing at its finest. With the NSFW mode toggled, you can indulge in theNaughty, the risqué, the "Did-I-really-just-do-that?" moments. It's like the digital equivalent of a practical joke, but without the cleanup.
Yet, beneath this cloak of comicality and subterfuge lies a truth: we're all just faces in the crowd, yearning for a change, if only for a moment. PPnude's AI Face Swap tool is not just about the swap—it's about the Why. Why do we want to see ourselves as someone else? What is it about the mask that makes us feel alive, even if it's just a pixels-wide facade?
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So, as you sit there, toying with the digital doppelgangers of your friends and foes, ask yourself—what does it say about you? Are you the sort to revel in the metamorphosis, to celebrate the ability to wear another's visage like a suit of clothes? Or does it unsettle you, this thought of identity as malleable as a child's playdough?
The beauty of PPnude's AI Face Swap tool is not just in its technical prowess, but in its provocations. It raises questions about identity, privacy, and the nature of self in a world where the digital and the physical blur into indistinction. And if you're feeling particularly brave, there's always that NSFW mode, reminding you that sometimes, even our faces aren't safe from the whimsy of technology.
In the end, the Face Swapper is a tool, a mirror, a provocateur. PPnude is the stage, the canvas, the facilitator of this peculiar dance of identities. So, step into the spotlight, swap your face, and think about the question: in a world where we can be anyone, who will we choose to be?
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The Boy is Mine | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~7k wc | Part 1 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: You become obsessed with the new DEA attaché.
Tags: oral (m receiving), stalking, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation (f), we're humping a pillow y'all, light spanking, javi's gun makes an appearance, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, dubcon, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, other shit i’m probably forgetting.
A/N: i told myself i was going to take my time with this but i've been hyperfixated on this song and music video since it dropped... imagining my favorite pedro boy and... well i cranked this sucker out so fast. oh to break in to javi's apartment and blow him into oblivion 😫 let me know what you think! 🖤
DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika
You’ve never seen a man so handsome. So determined. So capable.
So perfect.
You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was the one.
You’d been waiting outside of the embassy in the pouring rain for over an hour trying to catch him while on his break, wanting to get a quote from the new DEA attaché on his plans to tackle the Cali cartel.
That’s why you’re here in Colombia. Fresh out of grad school with a masters in photojournalism. Your advisor had presented to you a great position in South America involving documenting the war on drugs and its subsequent effects. Despite Pablo Escobar’s death, this so called war remained relentless, and with your ability to capture photos that truly are worth a thousand words, your advisor knew you’d be perfect for the job.
So here you are, immersed in a beautiful country, working your dream job. It had its bad days just like anything else; but your passion and prowess made those hard days worth it.
When he finally did emerge from the government building, you shivered and it wasn’t because you were soaking wet from the rain.
Your handbag did little to nothing to shield you from it as you held it over your head and jogged over to him.
He immediately blew you off, quickly eyeing your appearance before giving you a simple ‘no comment’ which would usually piss you off and have you press further–– however, you were left in a trancelike state by merely being in his presence.
He was more handsome than you could have imagined. You didn’t know what he looked like before arriving, solely going off the description given to you by your boss then what little his secretary had told you when you called to ask for a meeting earlier (which you were denied).
Brows cinched together in a perpetual frown, pouty lips turned downward in a scowl with chocolate brown eyes that make you miss the warmth of your hometown.
He had taken your breath away entirely, leaving you standing there in a puddle of both rain and arousal as he darted off in the opposite direction.
That was all you needed, really, to be thrown into a pit of absolute delusion and wanton want for Javier Peña.
You watch him relentlessly. At first, it began with scouring through the archives, reading any printings that involved him, seeing his photograph on countless articles and video footage of him giving press conferences.
The more you dived in to the professional life of the agent, the more devoted you became.
Then the following started. To and from work. Late nights at the bar. While tracking down leads. You can’t help yourself, you are obsessed. Everything this man does is fascinating, further deluding you into an infatuated trance.
You don’t know where this side of you came from. You’re usually so unproblematic and independent, your sole focus being your career with little to no time to even fathom romance.
There’s just something about him that flipped this twisted switch within you, rendering you a cock-thirsty, lovestruck mess.
One night, you watched him bring another woman home and that’s when you realized how palpable your obsession had gotten. The jealousy that bubbled in your chest became unbearable. So much, that it led you to get out of your car, climb the fire escape of his luxurious apartment building, and onto his balcony.
You observed from the other side of the glass door, in the shadows, as he took this woman on his couch.
A plethora of toxic emotions swirled within you. Envy and arousal the most intense, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his bare torso against the gentle, warm light of the singular lamp that was on.
A sheen of sweat glistened over his tan skin. He is so chiseled with a softness that makes you want to run your tongue against every dip and ridge, all the way down to the enticing trail of hair that leads right to what you crave the most.
You sighed, fantasizing about being in that lucky bitch’s spot, with his hands running all over you, kneading and squeezing your curves, the scratch of his mustache having your skin curl beneath the coarser touch. You managed to control the whimper that threatened to slip up your throat in the off chance that it got you caught.
It’s not until you felt your pager in your pocket that you returned to reality, the buzz forcefully pulling you from your erotic daydream. With a final glance at their moving bodies, at him, you swiftly descended the fire escape and to the nearest phone booth.
Since that night you’ve been insatiable. You just need one taste, a small, micro dose of him to keep your hunger at bay.
It’s not until a few days later that you return to his apartment. He’s away for work in Cali (you followed him to the airport, watching him board the plane behind your thick sunglasses and a newspaper) leaving his place empty with no surveillance. You ascend the fire escape again, the city lights of the capitol twinkling in the distance.
Slipping your gloves on, you expertly pick the lock of the balcony door before suavely entering the space. You’ve been practicing on your own at home in preparation.
It’s neat and clean. Not much personality to it which is unsurprising considering how stoic this man is. His hardened demeanor amongst the many things about him that drive you crazy. There’s never a break in his expression, always painted with typical tension and weariness.
You wonder if you could be the one who is able to crack him. To get a reaction out of that handsome face.
After surveying the entirety of the open space, you sneak down the hallway and push open the door of his bedroom.
Immediately, his smell engulfs your senses and your eyes flutter close at the scent. It’s comforting yet enticing; nothing different than what other men smell like, but there’s something about Javier specifically that you just can’t describe.
It’s so satisfying. A fucking aphrodisiac.
Walking deeper into the room, you diligently rummage through his belongings, beginning in his en suite bathroom.
With every little piece you study, you learn more about the agent. What toothpaste he uses, the brand of razors that he buys, the specific shade of blue of his towels.
Little things you wouldn’t be able to catch during your, plainly put, stalking.
Back in the room, you open the drawer that stores his shirts, your fingers running along the front of a brightly colored pink one that’s neatly folded at the top.
You imagine yourself walking around in this and nothing else, the softness of the fabric hanging from your curves, unbuttoned enough to expose the swells of your breasts, and maybe even a nipple slip to tempt him even further.
Would he think you look sexy in his clothes?
You now stand at the foot of his large bed, the window behind it casting the silver of the moonlight against the mattress tantalizingly, as if urging you to go full on goldilocks by climbing in it and pretending it’s a bed you share with him.
You stare and you stare, lower lip pinched between your teeth before you gently crawl onto it, lowering your chest so it brushes against the duvet as your nose trails up up up until it’s at his pillow, inhaling deeply as you get a more potent smell of him.
A sweet moan pushes through your lips, your clit throbbing in tandem with your heart as you lose yourself entirely, your mind already conjuring an erotic fantasy.
Your lips against his thick neck, licking and biting the salty skin while he fucks you in missionary. The details become so vivid; that familiar furrow of his brows as he concentrates on your soaking cunt swallowing his cock, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he praises you for taking his dick like the good little slut that you are.
You whimper, grinding your hips against the mattress, the friction delicious against your clit, while your nose remains buried in the pillow.
Deciding that you need more, you lift your head momentarily to grab one of the other cushions and then slip your jeans off; tossing them on the floor and placing the cushion between your thighs.
Positioning yourself at the perfect angle, you bring the pillow he sleeps on up to your face and begin to grind down on the one between your legs.
Drifting back to your lewd thoughts, you picture him beneath you while your hips move at a sensual pace. You know you’d take him bare, needing to feel every vein and divot… how thick he is breaking your pussy open while simultaneously molding it to fit perfectly tight around his cock.
His mouth on your bouncing breasts, nipping and sucking on your nipples while his large hand runs down to land a harsh slap against your ass cheek, groping the skin to soothe it before repeating the action again and again and again.
You move faster against the pillow, your now ruined panties only adding to the overwhelming sensation as the wet fabric rubs against your needy pussy.
“Javier…” His name falls from your lips in a gasp when your face leaves the pillow, your body needing fresh air but you being selfish and wanting to suffocate in his scent. You know your wetness is smearing all over the pillow but you really don’t give a fuck at the moment, too caught up in your own pleasure and delusions to think of how wrong this is.
But it feels so good.
Your free hand goes under your shirt and bra to massage your sensitive tit, stomach tightening as your orgasm begins to creep up on you.
You think of his devilishly curved nose and how fucking magnificent it’d feel nudging against your clit while you ride his face. That position specifically has always made you a little nervous due to the thickness of your thighs and ass, but you just know that he would be able to handle it like the sex god that he is.
His tongue would lap over your slit hungrily, kissing your folds before wrapping his lips around the flesh of your clit and sucking hard. The phantom sensation of it is enough to get you to hump harder against the pillow and bury your face into the one in your hands once more, your cunt clenching around nothing as euphoria washes over you.
The room is filled with your muffled moans and cries of his name as you come undone, hips wildly thrusting against the cushion and your juices absolutely soak through it.
It’s an out of body experience, really, as you attempt to return back to earth.
You’ve never came that hard, especially not on your own.
Breathing heavily, you take what feels like an eternity to calm your shaking body down. Once your mind is a little clearer, you wobble off the bed and proceed to wash the pillow you just marked like a possessive cat, lounging around his apartment until you’ve made sure everything is as he left it before swiftly making your exit.
His return comes in the form of a news broadcast. You’re in the middle of cooking dinner when you hear the anchorwoman report that one of the Cali godfathers, Gilberto Rodríguez, has been arrested thanks to the joint efforts of the DEA and Search Bloc.
The kitchen knife falls from your hands and onto the cutting board as you scurry over to the boxy television set in your living room, fingers twisting the knob to increase the volume as he appears.
You’re kneeled in front of the screen, face damn near pressed up against it as you intently watch him command the room. He stands behind a podium with microphones pointed at him from every direction, cameras shuttering, an array of men on either side of him and a large crowd gathered at the front.
“I promise you… the other three godfathers will fall.”
You nod your head as if he is speaking only to you, “That’s right baby, you tell them. So hot.”
You stand, attention still fully on the television as that familiar stir of arousal begins to heat up within you.
He’s home and your resolve is wearing thin. Thin enough that you decide to say fuck it.
You need another taste.
Dinner is long forgotten as you go to your room, pulling open the closet and grabbing a solid black box from the top shelf.
You purchased this little number when your fantasies had begun. Wearing it around your apartment while you teased yourself, roleplaying him coming home after a long work trip and using your pussy to help him forget the horrors of his job.
Using a realistic looking dildo, you imagined it to be the man of your dreams while you fucked yourself with it in a myriad of positions.
The outfit is simple. A short, black leather dress with a corset bust and sheer sleeves that cover your shoulders and arms, doing a great job of making you look sexy. The skirt falls at your upper thigh, exposing your nylon clad legs paired with simple black heels. You slip on your mesh gloves, your red acrylics popping against the black, almost see through material.
The ensemble looks divine against your skin but you feel like something is missing. Taking one, long look at your face you realize that you’re not ready to fully reveal yourself to him, so you turn back to your closet and your eyes light up once you see the cat mask you wore to a costume party not that long ago.
You smirk at the idea.
A sexy little cat burglar. Breaking in to take what she wants.
Putting it on, your reflection stares back at you and you feel like a whole different person. The corset cinches your waist just right, your thighs curvy and inviting beneath the stockings, tits pressed together and almost spilling out the top.
The lacy mask covers half your face, leaving your glossy lips exposed with cute kitten ears at the top.
You’d fuck yourself, honestly. This new wave of confidence does nothing but fuel your determination.
Walking over to the opposite side of your room, you tilt your head up to take in the shrine of photos you’ve made of him.
Most come from you and your camera, all those days you spent watching him and documenting his every move. Others are from newspapers then there’s some messy sketches you did out of boredom.
Your finger comes up to trace his sharp features on one of the pictures, lingering on his nose and your pussy tingles as you breathe out a wistful sigh.
You can’t wait to try him.
Throwing on a black trench coat, you leave your apartment and take the familiar route to his. It’s raining, but not harsh enough to spoil your plans. Just a light drizzle.
When you arrive, your heart sinks at the fact that he isn’t home yet. Of course. He was just on TV! You hadn’t really thought this plan all the way through, absolutely blinded by your desire.
Whatever, you take the time to touch up on your makeup and fix your hair. The night presses on until finally you see his jeep coming down the road and pulling into the garage of the building.
With a final look over in your rearview mirror, you exit the car and cross the street to make your way up the familiar ladder, careful not to slip against the slick surface with the heels you have on.
Thankfully there’s no one out tonight, and if there was you aren’t sure how the hell you’d explain what you’re doing. You don’t even know how to explain it to yourself.
The butterflies in your stomach wildly flutter once you make it to his balcony, rain droplets adorn the glass door and you crouch to keep yourself hidden.
He walks in not long after, looking exhausted as ever as he pulls his tie loose around his neck and tosses his keys into a small bowl at the entryway table. His expensive dress shoes are kicked off, suit jacket slipping from shoulders revealing how broad he is. You bite your lip.
He stalks across the apartment, not even glancing in your direction, unbuttoning part of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves. His figure is a little blurry due to the condensation on the door but you don’t care, you’re under his spell as you watch him pour himself a glass of whiskey.
Wetting your lips, you can almost taste the spicy liquor as he drinks it in one shot before pouring himself another. Except this time it’s on the rocks.
Would the ice make his lips cool? Surely. A shiver dances down your spine at the thought of them pressed against your heated skin.
The orange street light casts softly into the space, the shadows sharpening his features and making him look more rugged and masculine and just downright fuckable. You want to so badly break through the glass and take a seat on that chiseled jaw, to have him harshly grip your ass as you fuck yourself on his tongue.
He disappears down the hallway and into his office, giving you the opportunity to sneak in like last time. You give yourself one final pep talk before fully committing, slipping off the trench coat and tossing it aside.
After picking the lock, you very diligently and quietly slide the door open and enter, shutting it behind you.
Just like the cat burglar you pretend to be, you suavely follow his trail down the hallway, leaving a wet trail of your own from the rain, stopping at the cracked door of his office.
You see him hunched over his wooden desk, back facing you, deep in thought at whatever documents lay sprawled against the surface.
His back muscles tense with every subtle move he makes, your dark eyes taking him in entirely from his slutty little waist to the curls at the nape of his neck.
You can tell he’s been frustratingly running his fingers through his hair since it’s sticking up in some places, making it look so sexily tousled.
You want to tug on it, run your fingertips against his scalp while he devours you whole.
So lost in your observance of him, you don’t catch the moan that escapes you and his head snaps up at the sound.
Your eyes widen and you take a delicate step back, still watching as he reaches for the gun that’s nestled against his lower back.
Trying not to make too much noise, you make your way further down the hall and into his bedroom, heart in your throat as you climb into his bed, laying on your side with your body weight propped up on one hand as you anticipate his presence.
This is it. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you laid eyes on him.
The first thing you see is the silver tip of his pistol as the door opens further, then he comes fully into view with that goddamn scowl on his face that makes your skin tingle.
His breath hitches once he lays eyes on you, large hands squeezing the weapon as you sexily wave at him.
“Hello agent.”
Your sweet voice fills the space, the muted sound of the weather picking up outside serving as the perfect white noise to set the ambiance for this scene.
“Who the fuck are you and how the hell did you get in here?”
Oh, his voice. So smooth yet raspy like the whiskey and cigarettes he can’t live without.
“An admirer that saw you took down one of the godfathers and decided to come thank you in person.”
His gaze narrows, gun lowering slightly as he contemplates whether you’re a threat or not.
You are, but not in the way that he thinks.
“How did you get in?”
“That’s a trick I’m going to have to keep to myself.”
You shift your body, moving to rest on your knees and you watch as his eyes lustfully trace the contours of your figure. You’re absolutely keening beneath the heaviness of his stare, loving the fact that you have his undivided attention.
It doesn’t even worry you that he’s got a fully loaded gun pointed right at your pretty face. If anything, it just turns you on even more.
“What do you want?”
“I already told you. To thank you in person.” Your eyes roll and his jaw tightens.
“Thank me in person?” He echoes your words with a dry chuckle, “What the fuck does that even mean?”
“Let me show you.” Your tone is hushed and dripping with suggestion, slipping off the bed slowly and sensually.
You watch his adam’s apple bob at your change of position, letting him see you in your full get up, watching intently as his eyes land on a different part of your body with every second that passes.
“Drop the gun, Javier.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I could do right now.”
You cock your head to the side, eyes narrowing behind the mask as you contemplate your next move.
He’s standing on the rug that’s spread out against the wooden floor which gives you an idea.
“Please? I’m not going to hurt you.” You whine with a pout, beginning to lower yourself to the ground as if showing him your unwavering submission.
The seconds that tick by feel like hours as you attentively take each other in. Then you hear it, your ears twitching at the faint sound of the safety switching on and it’s enough to spur you into action.
You don’t know where this newfound strength comes from, probably the adrenaline you feel of simply existing in the same room as him. You yank the rug, causing him to lose his footing as he falls onto his back with a loud thud, the gun slipping from his grasp and sliding across the floor.
He groans out in pain but you don’t care, pulling him closer, then fully on your knees as you begin to crawl over to him.
“I told you to put the gun down.”
He’s still on his back, making no attempt to move as you draw closer. He does lean up on his forearms, dark eyes fixed on you, watching as you shuffle on your hands and knees until you plant your hands on his shins and work your way up.
You barely graze the hardening bulge in his pants, causing him to shudder, and white heat licks at your core knowing that in this moment; he wants you too.
The two of you don’t break eye contact as you straddle him, gloved hands falling on his pecs.
“I’m not usually like this…” you begin in a gentle murmur, running your open palms anywhere you can, relishing in feeling his taut body beneath yours after fantasizing about it for so long, “Shit, it’s like news to me, but I can’t ignore my heart anymore.”
One of your hands wraps around his tie, tugging on it harshly until you’re nose to nose with the man that’s been living in your head rent free for the past few weeks.
His lust blown, brown eyes search yours, as if trying to discern your identity which you assume he’ll never figure out. You’ve only ever had that one interaction and even then he had barely paid you any attention.
You feel his breath fanning across your mouth, so badly do you want to press your lips against his but you suppress the urge.
You continue to play with him, enjoying this sense of power you have with how compliant he’s being.
You expected for him to be fully dominant, which you know he’s capable of being since you watched him fuck the shit out of that one girl. But it seems like this, your taboo act and the suddenness of it, is affecting him in an entirely different way.
You put pressure against your palms, having him lay flat on his back and you hover over him, taking in all the small details of his charming face.
The frown lines, hairs of his mustache, blemishes and faint scars. Every little detail making you fall harder and harder for him. He has no idea just how much he means to you.
“What game are you playing at here, gatita?” He gives in, entranced by this enigma of a woman that’s perched over him. His calloused hands grip at your outer thighs, blunt fingernails almost ripping the fabric of your stockings.
You hum at his touch, loving the sound of the pet name, gently rocking on his lap and clutching his shirt in your fists.
“One where you’re the prize, handsome.”
You lean forward, sticking your tongue out and slowly licking a broad stripe from his chin all the way to the tip of his nose, curling your tongue when you flick at it.
His chest vibrates with a groan and you smirk at the feeling of his cock twitching underneath his pants.
“You looked so good on the news tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”
You undo his tie, toying with the notion of wrapping it around his wrists to detain him, but with what you have planned on doing to him tonight, you’d rather keep his hands accessible.
Maybe next time.
You toss the silky fabric aside to focus on unbuttoning his shirt. He does nothing but remain silent, his chest heaving up and down while he suppresses the primal urge to take over and fuck this sweet little thing that’s dropped herself on his lap.
And you know he’s more than capable of switching the roles. He’s strong and skilled, could easily flip you onto your back and proceed to exert his dominance over you.
But you’re the one with the grand plan here, not him, and he’s indulging in your shared fantasy by letting you do whatever it is that you want, lost in a horny daze of his own.
The silence is comfortable and it further builds the sexual tension. You finish getting his shirt undone, opening it wider to get a better look at his toned body.
“So hot. You drive me crazy, agent.” You’re so wet, the slickness of your arousal seeping through the flimsy material of your thong smears against his fancy dress pants.
“Y tú, kitten, look like something out of a wet fucking dream. I have to be dreaming.”
You giggle, blushing at his words as some coyness slips into your facade.
“You’re not dreaming. I promise you.”
Leaning down once more, you begin to leave wet kisses against the cut of his jaw, suckling on the warm skin then running your nose along the length of his neck.
You take in a deep breath, smelling his cologne atop of his sweat and natural scent and you feel so high.
No amount of cocaine comes close to how Javier Peña makes you feel.
You suck a love bite against a protruding vein in his neck, a grunt pushing past his lips at the sensation of your teeth grazing the skin.
Satisfied with your possessive marking, you lick from his jaw all the way up to his ear, biting down on the lobe.
“Now I’m going to taste you.” You purr seductively, leaning back to look down at his absolutely wrecked face.
His puppy eyes stare up at you like you’re the only woman in the world, a goddess that’s decided to bestow such an erotic experience onto him. He knows you’re about to ruin his body for any other woman that comes after you.
You decide to be a little theatrical, slowly pulling off your gloves to reveal your pretty hands and fresh manicure.
He can’t help but bring his large hand up to grasp your wrist, pulling your hand closer to his face as he studies your nails before gently nipping at your fingers, then slipping two digits into his mouth, running his tongue all over them and sucking them softly.
You gasp at the sensation, not breaking eye contact while he smirks at your reaction. Suddenly, lighting strikes and the room is illuminated for a split second in the white light.
You both look so feral, suspended in this vivacious moment.
Pulling your hand away, you let it drag down his pouty bottom lip, pinching the delicate skin before shuffling back on his lap.
You hover again, this time at eye level with his chest as you place soft kisses against his brown skin, tongue peering out to lick his pecs then down his soft tummy.
His hips buck involuntarily and you pull back, tilting your head to the side as you look down at him.
“Stay still or this little kitten is going to find someone else to play with.”
A litany of curses fall from his lips in both English and Spanish, but you pay it no mind, your attention on his belt as you unbuckle it then pop the button of his dress pants.
Leaning down, you bring your face until it’s right at his crotch and you catch the metallic zipper between your teeth.
Slowly pulling it down, your eyes flit up to him and he’s intently watching you, his own tongue hanging from his mouth like a dog in anticipation of what you’re about to do.
You press your nose into the fabric of his now exposed boxers, nuzzling your face against his erection and his breath catches in his throat.
Your wetness managed to penetrate through his pants and onto his boxers, so you kitten lick your arousal from him and he lets out a guttural moan.
Basking in the sounds of his pleasure, you continue until there’s a giant wet spot on the cotton.
Deciding that it’s time you get what you came here for, your fingers hook at the band of his bottoms, dragging them down to his mid thigh and he assists you by lifting his hips.
His cock is so fucking big. Your eyes widen at the sight as it rests against his left thigh.
It’s thick, like you imagined, with ridges and veins that are begging to be traced by the tip of your tongue.
The color of it is a little darker than the rest of his body, the weeping tip plush and leaking with excessive precum from your foreplay. It’s cut with a subtle curve, long enough to where you know if he angles it just right; he’d bruise the fuck out of your cervix.
“Mmm,” you hum, licking your lips like a woman who has been starved for far too long.
“¿Que pasó, nena? Cat got your tongue?” This asshole, teasing you as if he’s not the one at your mercy.
But is that really the truth? One would observe that you’re the one at his mercy; considering your obsession with the DEA agent.
“It just looks so delicious,” you purr, bringing your hand to hover your face.
Meeting his gaze, you seductively lick your palm, wetting it with your saliva before wrapping it around his throbbing length.
“Mierda,” he hisses, head dropping back against the hardwood floor as you begin to pump him in languid motions, getting a feel for what he likes. Attuned.
His flesh feels warm and smooth beneath your smaller hand, your thumb swipes over his tip as you collect some of his precum.
You bring it up to your lips, sucking it into your mouth and you whimper at the taste. Salty, heady, intoxicating.
You need more.
Your hand leaves his cock as you position yourself in between his strong thighs. His dick stands erect, waiting for you to lavish it in your attention.
Leaning down, you poke your tongue out to run one long, broad stripe from his balls all the way up to his head.
He shudders, fists clenching at his sides while his slit spurts out more precum.
“I got you all wet, baby.” you gloat with a gentle laugh, repeating the motion a few more times.
Each groan of his and twitch of his body influences you to keep going, placing open mouthed kisses all over his base then up and down his cock. Making out with it.
You let a wad of spit fall over his tip and watch as it drips down obscenely over his length, bringing your hand back to pump him a little faster with a tighter grip. Your saliva drips from in between your knuckles.
“That’s it, gatita, just like that pretty girl.” He’s getting more vocal now and you’re intoxicated, drunk off his praise.
You slap the fat head of his cock against your pursed lips a few times before letting your tongue lap at the slit then sinfully lick around the tip.
Your tongue continues its assault on his girth, lapping every inch of it like he’s a refreshing mango popsicle on a hot summer day.
The attention is then shifted on his balls as you continue to jerk him, the tip of your muscle outlining the sensitive skin before you suck one into your mouth softly.
“Puta madre, bebita, esa boquita feels like fucking heaven.”
You whimper, nuzzling your nose against his sack and taking in his musky smell. Your mouth waters, drool leaking from the corners as you reposition yourself back over his hard cock.
You part your lips, taking him slowly, inch by inch as you savor the weight of him inside your hot mouth. Your hand remains at his base while you swallow him whole, tongue lapping around the bits that it can reach.
It’s not until you feel him tickle the back of your throat that you pull back slightly, sucking your cheeks in and beginning to set a slow pace.
Up, down, up, down.
He’s so fucking big, you’re not able to take him fully down your throat… yet. You’re gonna need a moment to break open your mouth enough to fit him.
He continues with his praises. The sweet filth that fills your ears urging you to be a good girl and to suck his cock like your life depends on it.
Because it does. All you want to do is lose yourself in him, to become nothing more than just Javier’s plaything.
Tears pool at your tear ducts from the messy head you’re giving but it doesn’t deter you. You just blink them away and take him further down your throat.
You splutter and gag as he presses against your uvula, causing him to inadvertently bring his hand down to the back of your head, fisting your hair.
You wince but the pain feels delicious on your scalp. You pull away and his saliva coated cock falls from your swollen lips with a trail of spit connecting you two.
“I want you to fuck my face, Javier. Can you do that for me?”
You bat your lashes, biting on your lower lip as you look up at him.
Your back is arched sexily, giving him a good view of your ass behind you as you remain on your knees in between his legs.
“Si, gatita, whatever you want.”
He gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you back to his cock.
He slips back into your mouth easily, his hips bucking upward to fully bury himself down your throat.
You breathe through your nose as he begins to set the pace, much harsher and faster than what you’ve been doing on your own.
The filthy sounds of his groans mixed with your gagging and squelching of your mouth fill the room and it’s like music to your ears.
You fucking love this. Love the way he’s fucking your throat and using it to get himself off.
His other hand falls down to tenderly caress your cheek, cupping your jaw and that sets off an explosion of fireworks against your needy pussy, moving your hips against nothing. The simple act is enough to get you closer to your own orgasm.
Your fingernails dig into his meaty thighs when he manages to fully situate himself into your mouth, the tip of your nose brushing against his coarse pubic hairs.
He keeps you there, depriving you of oxygen and your jaw aches with how it’s been widely unhinged for the past however long.
You don’t care about your pain, you only care about tasting his cum when he finally releases inside of you.
“I’m so close baby, god damn it I could die in this pretty little mouth. Such a filthy whore, breaking into my apartment just so you can suck my cock.”
You whimper, the sound vibrating around his shaft and you bring one of your hands down beneath your skirt and panties, rubbing tight circles against your engorged clit.
He goes back to thrusting in and out of your throat while you pleasure yourself; both of you teetering on the precipice of your respective orgasms.
The hold on the back of your head tightens as his climax begins to peak, and the tension of it is enough to send you over the edge first.
You splutter and groan all over his cock while you cum, your release coating your fingers and dripping down your folds and onto your inner thighs.
“Fuck I’m about to come. You better swallow every fucking drop gatita. Isn’t that what you came here for? Ah-shit, to milk my cock like the perverted bitch that you are?”
If you hadn’t come already, you would be now with his abrasive words and rougher thrusts of his hips.
“I bet, fuuuck, bet that pussy tastes so fucking sweet and feels as heavenly as this mouth. Ay gatita sucia, you gonna let me destroy your tight little cunt or are you going to leave me with just a taste of your boquita?”
You want to respond, to tell him that you want nothing more than to have his cock split you open, to render you a mess that can’t walk for days after getting fucked hard by him.
His thrusts stagger and he comes with a primitive growl, his hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat.
You moan at the feeling and he holds you flush against his pelvis while he empties his balls into you.
When he’s finally drained, you tentatively let him fall from your mouth with a lewd pop, some of his spend still resting on your tongue.
You climb up his body again, noticing the bead of sweat dripping from the tip of his brow and down his chiseled cheek. His lips are swollen, much like yours, from chewing on it due to the intensity of your ministrations.
His dark eyes are swimming with lust and adoration, shallow breaths exhaling from his nostrils.
You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out so he can see his milky cum against the pink muscle before you retract it and swallow exaggeratedly, smirking as you bring the back of your hand up to wipe the saliva and other fluids that coat the bottom half of your face.
“Thank you for keeping us safe from the narcos, agent.” You whisper, reaching for your gloves to slip them back on.
He watches intently before he raises the hand that had just cupped your cheek affectionately to the edge of your mask, beginning to lift it up to expose your identity.
“¿Quien eres, gatita?”
You stop him by grasping his wrist harshly, shaking your head.
“Un secreto,” you whisper back, close enough to where your lips are softly brushing against each other.
Moving his hand away from your face, your eyes gaze into his one final time before you lean in to press a sweet kiss against his lips.
It’s everything you dreamed of and more, the feeling of his mouth slotting against yours in the most passionate kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone.
You pull back before things get heated again, your mission now complete until the next time.
“I’m going to leave now,” you begin in a hushed tone, “and you’re going to stay right here. You’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”
Another tilt of your head and you can see the resistance in his stare, how badly he wants to keep you here like a pet. His kitten.
But he nods ever so slightly.
“Will I see you again?”
Yes, but you don’t reveal this to him so easily.
“Only if you do something worth warranting a visit.”
With that, you rise from his lap, your long legs on either side of his waist as you look down upon this man you just wrecked without giving him your name or letting him get a good look at your face.
His eyes trail over you, trying to etch the image of you in his mind for the lonely days that are about to come.
He won’t forget you, that’s for sure. You’re about to infiltrate his mind in the same manner in which he infiltrated yours.
The soft click of your heels can be heard as you depart from his bedroom, leaving him with his soft cock out and pants down his legs.
Before closing the bedroom door behind you, you stop and look at him over your shoulder.
“Goodnight agent.”
The minutes tick by agonizingly slow before he scrambles to get up, grunting at the subtle pain in his back as he tucks himself back into his pants and picks his gun up to place on the dresser.
He follows your wet trail down the hallway and to the glass door of his balcony that you purposefully left ajar; an answer to his earlier question.
“How the hell did you get in here?”
He smirks when he sees the heart shape you’ve left against the surface.
#javier peña smut#pedro pascal smut#javier peña x you#javier pena smut#javier peña x reader#pedro pascal#stream eternal sunshine for good fortune
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Malegra FXT Plus: Embracing Open Conversations About Men's Sexual Health
Men's sexual health is an essential topic, but it's often shrouded in silence, hidden behind uncomfortable whispers and secret concerns. It's high time we break free from these shackles and embrace open conversations about men's sexual health. No more taboos, no more stigma. Let's talk about it openly, honestly, and with the aim of finding effective solutions. One such solution that's making waves is Malegra FXT Plus, and in this article, we'll dive deep into the world of men's sexual health, the challenges men face, and how Malegra FXT Plus is paving the way for a brighter, more confident future.
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Addressing Partners and Communication
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Promoting Self-Care and Healthy Lifestyle
Your lifestyle choices play a significant role in your sexual health. Regular exercise, a balanced diet, and managing stress can go a long way in improving your overall well-being. Remember, Sildenafil healthy body often leads to a healthy mind, and a healthy mind can translate to better intimate experiences.
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Conclusion
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do you think you could you write "pretending to be a couple" with some various pining riddlers?
thank you kindly for fueling my batman villain addiction <333
Pretend Couple
Riddler x GN!Reader, five little ficlets all around 500 words each lmao thank YOU for enabling me you precious angel! i hope i got enough pining in for you! this is so good so i wrote one for each of my riddlers!! was that a lot?? maybe but i couldn't stop myself so enjoy a lot of lil ficlets ;-;💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: kissing, groping, taking advantage, pet names
Arkham!Riddler: Visiting Hours
"I'm just very sick of Harvey getting visits constantly, when no one is here to see me, Edward Nigma! How is that possible? Even Crane has had people in to visit him!" Unimpressed with the somehow indestructible levels of narcissism that Ed displayed, you rolled your eyes and sighed. "Uh huh...so you thought 'I'll make up a pretend partner'?" "Yes...rather genius, isn't it?" He smirked at you, eyebrows raised, patiently awaiting your praise, which never came. "And you picked...me?" "Well, picked is a strong word. I was simply left with you when the other options declined." "Ok, goodbye, Ed!" You stood up, taking a few steps away. "Wait! I'm sorry. That was rude of me, my dear friend. Truth be told I've always had an idea that maybe we could have been more than pretend partners at some point." "I thought you were smart, Eddie?" You smirked at him, and he grinned back at you, ever the fan of the playful teasing you shared, bordering on flirting. "Truthfully, being inside is getting to me more than it usually does. You know me, I am, truthfully, the alpha in every situation, but recently I've felt rather...neglected." You sympathised with Ed's need for attention and affection. It couldn't be easy for him. You reached a hand out to hold his, placing your palm on top of the back of his and soothing him wtih your touch. "I don't want the others to think my prowess and skills end at the intellectual. I think you'll find that I am a deeply and versatilely skilled man physically too." "Gosh, Ed." You leaned in closer to him, aware that several other inmates were watching your interaction, resigning yourself to at least trying to be there for him. You spoke loudly, confidently, and with an air of playfulness about you. "I'll have to come back for conjugal then." Ed blushed, his cheeks turning crimson immediately before he managed to give you a crooked and embarrassed smile in return.
Dano!Riddler: Office Party
He looked apologetic from the moment he had shown up at your apartment to pick you up. You had counted eight times from that moment until now, when you were about to walk into the venue, that he had asked you if you were sure you didn't want to just go home. "You're just here to look normal so that I can look normal too. You don't have to do anything, nothing that makes you uncomfortable. And you don't need to talk to anyone either. And if you want to leave at any point just let me know because-" "Eddie, come on! We'll have a nice time. As far as we are concerned, we're just two friends having a nice time together. And, granted it was rather silly to tell them you had a long-term partner, I'm sure we'll pass well enough." You grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, several people turning to look at you both as you entered. "Wow...they really are surprised that you could convince someone to be with you." You whispered it into his ear, leaning onto him affectionately. "What is it you've done at this office to make them think that, and should I be concerned?" You teased him, pinching his side and making him crumple in on himself before heading to get drinks for you both at the bar table. Eddie watched you, trying to hide the longing in his eyes from you. There you were though, pretending to be his partner, garnering looks of approval and, he could swear it, jealousy from the co-workers who either ignored his existence or outright hated him for being in their presence. You were the only person he had ever come across who had been bold and willing enough to push past his cold, shy exterior. You had warmed him, and he had fallen hopelessly in love with you. Several people stood by you, and you had them all laughing. It never took you long to be the shining light of any room, and Eddie loved that about you. As he stared, trying to picture a world where someone like you might genuinely consider being with him, you caught his eye. Smiling and waving, motioning for him to join your new friends, you blew a little kiss at him too, his heart fluttering as though he could feel it physically reach him. And as he joined you, standing slightly behind you, proudly and silently, you took your hand in his and had him wishing he was brave enough to ask you on a date and feel this happy and normal permanently.
Gotham!Riddler: Bold and Brave
You noticed when he came into the library, you always did. Every time Ed was in, he always made a point of saying 'hello' and 'goodbye' to you, an awkward but oddly charming, and heart meltingly sweet, smile accompanying it. He was so tall and striking, exactly your type. And you were sure on more than once occasion that he was trying to ask you out. But he had stammered, nerves getting the better of him, and had left quickly. And your shy demeanour and inability to speak up for yourself was, to say the least, detrimental to your plans to finally ask him out and do the hard work yourself. After noting which aisle of books he was going down, you counted to one hundred and then got up to make your way down the adjacent aisle, hoping to just be near him. You could hear voices, and resisting the urge to shush them, you listened in. "So what are you doing in here, Nygma? You staring at the librarian again?" Just a half hour before he had arrived, several police officers had come in to take a look at the archive, which had been broken into an burgled the day before. They were standing before Ed, clumped in a group. "Just ask her out Nygma, we've all heard you talking about her. You too shy? Maybe you could tell her one of your dumb riddles, that might get her wet, you never know! She could be a freak just like you!" As much as their words were cruel, it was nice to know that Ed's infatuation with you burned as strongly as yours did for him. "How about I go ask her out? Show her what a real man feels like? Then you can take a turn at my scraps, huh Ed?" They were laughing, cruelly. Your stomach knotted at the idea of him experiencing any sort of humiliation and before you knew it you had rounded the corner and were walking into the aisle, approaching him from behind as the cops hushed their laughter and pointed at you. Their faces dropped though, as you walked in front of Ed, put your arms around his neck dramatically, and kissed him hard, only pulling away after what was likely thirty seconds but felt like a blissful eternity. "There you are, sweetheart! I was looking for you when you came in. You must have slipped by me." You turned to face the cops, who stood slack-jawed and irritated. "Imagine him, being so busy he forgot to come and say hi to his girlfriend!" Ed smiled wide, beaming as the officers walked past you both silently and into the archive to finish doing their job. Stammering, desperate to find the words to say to you, Ed stood open mouthed. Feeling a lot less nervous than you ever had before, you spoke up. "You could take me to dinner, Ed. As a thank you?" He nodded silently, writing down a time and place for you on a scrap of paper.
Capullo!Riddler: A Ruse
"So you tricked me? There's no party?" "Not exactly, no." "I don't know why I was so stupid? I mean why would you, famed sleazebag bachelor Eddie Nygma, need a pretend date for one of your stupid friend's parties?" "Maybe you wanted to believe the lie?" He smirked at you, the same smile that made you want to punch his lights out on an almost daily basis, if not hourly. You weren't even going to give him the satisfaction of reacting, turning away with your face neutral, only stopping when he grabbed your arm. "No no no no, wait, just wait!" You turned back to him, arms folded. "Well? I'm waiting." "I just didn't think-" "As usual!" You turned again, making it four steps closer to the door before he had rushed around you and was standing between you and the exit. "Let me finish. I didn't think you would come somewhere with me if there wasn't a reason to, unless you were getting something out of it." "Those three days of silence you promised are priceless." "See! Quid pro quo!" "So you bribed me, tried to get me to pretend to be your girlfriend, had me feeling sorry for you. Just to get me somewhere alone?" "Well, it's a date...isn't it?" "Not if I'm being given something to go on it!" "Erm...think of yourself as like my escort for the night." "Try again, Eddie." You went to walk past him, but he held your arms, looking down at you, a look of unnatural and unfamiliar sincerity crossing his brows. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I just...think we might have fun. If you can push past this?" "Push past what? Everything about this whole situation and about you as a person?" "Yeah, seems easy enough." He smiled and you rolled your eyes back at him, caught off guard when he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you in to kiss him. With your hands out by your side, the started moving up in a bid to push him back, but instead you found your palms lightly landing on his suit jacket lapels, clinging to them and using them to pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss. When neither of you could breathe you both stepped back, tiny gasps passing between you. "Ha. I knew you liked me!" "You owe me four days of silence now." "Hmm...what can I get for a week?"
YoungJustice!Riddler: Family Issues
He stopped, knuckles raised at the front door, pausing to turn to you. "Ok, this will be fine right?" "Boy, your family really did a number on you, huh?" He let out a tiny laugh, trying to mask the terror in his voice, but the squeaking gave it away. “Look, it’s fine!” You took his arm in yours, smiling at him and nodding slowly, waiting till he started nodding with you before slapping his arm with your free hand. “I’ll be a great pretend girlfriend, no awkward questions about why you don’t have one yet, and then the only thing they can get on at you for is-” “-is the million other disappointments I bring to them, right.” “Right. Great!” Once inside, his mood was no better. There was a tense smile plastered onto his face, far too much of a grimace to pass as anything else, but either his family didn’t notice or they chose to ignore it. Every passive aggressive comment was met by your perpetually upbeat praise for him, and they commented on everything from the mundane to the deeply personal. “Eddie’s intelligence goes far beyond just science and maths.” “He makes an amazing eggplant parm.” “On the weekends we volunteer together!” “So far, he’s successfully executed five plans, with no help at all from me.” “I love his tooth gap, I think it’s cute.” “The colour green really suits him though, don’t you think?” “He’s so thoughtful, just yesterday he gave me this necklace!” Everything they hit him with, you were there to step in when he stuttered over his anxiety, stress at being questioned for every life choice he made rendering him almost speechless. After an intense hour, your sympathy for Eddie only increasing immensely by the minute, you were seated for dinner. The conversation all but mellowed out after the solid hour of deeply hurtful comments that you had batted back with such effort it truly felt like you were physically hurling them back across the coffee table at the kind of judgemental people who could raise someone so emotionally troubled as Eddie. You were allowed to think it, he was your best friend. His flaws were what you liked about him, they weren’t something to nitpick at or criticise. He was who he was. And as though he could sense that you were thinking about him, and the ordeal he’d already been through so far today, Eddie’s hand dropped below the table, nudging against yours. Without looking his way, not wanting to make a scene, you grabbed onto it firmly, squeezing it three times in quick succession. While his family were busy complaining about the way the soup tasted, he leaned to the side gently and whispered to you. “Thank you. Really.” You turned to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You owe me.” You smiled and winked, turning back to your bowl as he blushed into the glass he took a drink from, gulping heavily.
#finnie writes#riddler#the riddler#batman#riddler imagine#the riddler imagine#riddler smut#fanfic#the riddler fanfic#riddler fanfic#riddler x reader#riddler x you#riddler headcanon#ridler scenario#the riddler headcanon#gotham riddler#gotham#the batman#arkham riddler#young justice riddler#dano riddler#zero year riddler#q#dano!riddler#the batman 2022 fic#edward nygma#anon#friends being friends#edward nigma#edward nashton
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