#bc of half the state being out of power
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
.
#ah yes you are correct mother i am absolutely the bitch for saying that if the customer that i am meeting at 4:30 am#as a favor specifically for you#isn't there to pick up their catering order by 5:10 am you need to come switch out with me#how silly of me to forget#or to dare want to get some sleep before work#im so fucking sick of this shit#all the shit work shit family shit#like howd i get here#i was born dealing with this shit and no one seems to know how to teach me to stop dealing with this shit#also two big reasons I'm so pissed are#a) bc of her negligence we were both there until well passed 1am working on said order#b) literally last night I was literally crying to her about how my routine and rituals have been shattered#bc of half the state being out of power#and she goes and fucks up my ability to re regulate thru reestablishing them with this shit#and then says *thats uncalled for* when I tell her i absolutely am not going to do this song and dance tomorrow#and that tomorrow im getting back into my rhythm whether she has to stay at work until 1 am or not#explicitly me
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
I want to befriend Kaneki and meet with him and email him forever
#we should do everything together everything should be parallel play#and then when we go our separate ways at the end of the day I want to still email him things#like pictures of succulents and a glimpse under the amazon river#I want to email him pbs eons videos#I can show him coffee shop vlogs and ask âis this uâ#in person Iâd mostly let him do the talking and decide what to do#take me down the most intimidating alley on a whim after you said we were just buying lunch pls#I want to eat lunch with him so bad đđđđ#itâd be kind of awkward though bc he wouldnât be eating anything heâd just be sipping his coffee#being with Kaneki is the ultimate dream I wanna see his morning irritation I want to be pleasantly startled by him with his quiet footsteps#& get to ask him about what heâs reading#or how his training is going#or whatever heâs doing#I would ask him how heâd rate vacuuming out of 10 and if he gives it below a 5 will vacuum his house#I feel like heâd lie though and say he likes doing every kind of work just to stop others from doing it#unless he wasnât in a state where heâs able to actively think about others like that#he should stop doing things and jsut relax imagine taking him on a nice tour trip up mount Fuji that would b nice#stay in a cabin make a snowman clap for him when he skis#he was so good at skiing in the TG calendar?!?? who taught him to ski#did he read âidiots guide to skiingâ a day before and absorb all the knowledge like a sponge#heâs so smart. I wish I was smart. or at least smart in an applicable way#I want to try harder but I kind of canât#or I get sort of frozen by something and canât find a way forward unless I scurry around it (no one wants u to do this)#I love Kaneki heâs both literally and kind of metaphorically half human and I am too so if we combine weâll have the power of one full human#we can be human if we stand close enough together#idk he might not want to stand next to me tho he has better options#kaneki time
10 notes
¡
View notes
Text
//canât wait for the day i get to have lambda explain his knowledge on what itâs like to twist and bend reality to pull off some weird and abstract concepts and how complicated it is sometimes and have the person heâs talking to be like
#//bc yeah thereâs a very well thought out a written explanation of this (itâs not ic though)#//like his manip powers have a freaking radius#//but thatâs so heâs not incredibly overpowered#//and him being able to cover half the state compared to the large radius around him makes no sense#//itâs a lot of work to have it so itâs not horribly overpowered for story reasons and on here bc that wouldnât be fun for the other person#//i definitely donât want it to be godmoddy on here cause thatâs not fun for anyone!#//thereâs a lot of tweaking and tuning that goes into writing it i will say#//itâs pretty fun though#backup log {ooc}
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
i had the most amazing ocs come to me in a dream today but you'll never get to see them bc i can't draw that good (it was a giant red mecha dude and his tiny horse daughter <3 i think supposedly they were meant to be redesigns of existing characters but i don't remember oh well)
#it was a long time ago but some more blorbos from the dreamland include#a lesbian paranormal investigator tries to find the truth about the disappearance of their wife#as her trusted friend dilf bartender in a tom nook shirt tags along#they find out where the investigator's wife isâ turns our she was just massively burned oot and exhausted and that state#negatively affected others as well (migraines ringing in ears all that annoying shit etc)#bc she's actually a super powerful poltergeist#dilf bartender and the investigator convince her to come back since being alone only makes everything worse#the girls share a very tender kiss while bartender wipes a stray happy tear#AND#the mermaids . i literally cant remember shit about it but i had a dream about mermaids#oh theres so akny typos here bc im half asleep my bad ;;;;;;#đ blah blah
1 note
¡
View note
Text
Starting to think that I wasnât meant to be on this planet. Again
#like if this is what it feels like to have issues that âeveryone deals withâ and are âmild annoyancesâ as my therapist put it why dont i kms#paying someone out of pocket to help she isnt even trying#im stuck here getting berated by gross ass people that I should be robbing at gunpoint#while literally surrounded by shipment that needs to be broken down im already in pain and im by myself entirely#had to close to shit earlier and had someone yell at me for being closed for 5 minutes#im somehow the manager of this shithole but have no actual power but every responsibility#i make less than what others in my area make with the same position i have it took me a literal year to get this job#THE STATE TOOK HALF MY PAYCHECK THIS PAST ONE BC THEY DIDNT PAY ME THREE OF THEM PRIOR SO THEY BUNDLED THEM ALL TOGETHER#SO I LOST HALF OF MY INCOME FOR A MONTH AND A HALF BC OF THE COMPANY FUCKING UP#IM CONSTANTLY GETTING SHAT ON BY PEOPLE IN MY LIFE AND I BARELY HAVE ANYONE LEFT BC THOSE WHO ARE KIND TO ME I DONT WANT TO BURDEN
0 notes
Note
patrick hive to the rescue because im thinking, as i often do, about friends to lovers with patrick where you're kind of upset because he and art have gotten around and you're still struggling on the dating scene, maybe you're shy, probably you just have standards, and its really just all starting to bug you because you're worked up!!!!! imagine hanging out with patrick during the summer - the room is sticky with humidity, despite the air conditioning being on full blast. you're hot and irritated and sexually frustrated. patrick being half clothed isn't helping, either - you can see the gleam of sweat on his bare chest - the dusking of hair on his thick thighs as he lounges back with a cigarette. you're going mad, it feels like you could detonate at any second your clit is so on fire - throbbing and achey and everytime you press you sweat slick thighs together it makes it worse.
patrick is looking at his phone - so you take the chane - just a small touch - just for some relief. you're on the bed, there's a plushi blocking his view - it cant hurt just to slide a sneaky hand down the band of your shorts and panties. just to stroke your swollen slit. surely he wont noitce if you just...... rub yourself a little. while you sneak glances at his toned body - just peeks, really. if you're very quiet (you do realize the sticky squelch of your cunt can be heard across the room, right? you dont) you might even be able to cum undetected
GODDDDD FUCK!!!! This was supposed to be a chill, normal, short response. Instead I ignored 2 work calls bc itâs that serious.
Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: SMUT (exibitionism/voyeurism, f!masturbation, not fingering but a secret third adjacent thing, extreme levels of horniness)
A/N: Patrick Hive we Linked and Built <3
Patrick thought it was so sweet that you invited him to visit your home for the summer. Apparently youâd sung nothing but his praises to your parents, because even though you were both eighteen, they let him sleep on the floor of your room on a blow up mattress, trusting him that much.
Which was annoying. You werenât fucking Patrick (not for lack of wanting to), but they couldâve at least given you the benefit of the doubt and assumed that you might have some sort of sexual urges. It made your stupid fucking celibacy that much more embarrassing.
Youâre home alone with him and the powerâs outâ a stupid, heat-induced rolling blackout. The open window only seems to usher in more hot summer air, so youâre both down to as few layers as would be appropriate. You, were down to a thin T-shirt and your panties. Patrick was only in a pair of grey nylon shorts. Sweat was beading down his bare chest, which was so fucking unfair.
Because it was Patrick, whose chest hair and happy trail made your mouth fill with drool any time you were treated to the sight of it. It was summer, and he was frequently shirtless, and you still hadnât gotten used to the sight. Any sane person would want to lave their tongue along his chest, tasting the sweat and salt of his skin. That was⌠so totally normal to think about.
Patrick fucked your neighborâ the cute one who was going to a state school so she could be a kindergarten teacher. You didnât know, but you were pretty sure. Youâd been swimming in the pool during a cul-de-sac cookout, and theyâd disappeared after a while. Patrick didnât say anything that night, probably to protect your delicate sensibilities, but you could just kind of sense it.
God, it was unfair. All of the guys your age had girlfriends, or something. And the single ones were cute, but Patrick always seemed to fuck things up for you, either actively, or because you would always wind up talking about him. And because your parents thought it was totally fine for him to sleep in your room, you were surviving off of weak, rushed orgasms in the shower.
It was supposed to be a fun, sexy summer before you went off to college, and Patrick was totally ruining it. How was it fair that he got to fuck around and get his rocks off while you spent your summer feeling like you were wearing a fucking chastity belt?
And you were so wet it was uncomfortable, sticky between your thighs with absolutely no relief. Patrick was sitting on the fucking Air mattress, propped up by your cute, pink pillows and plushies that heâd stolen, watching a rerun of The Hills on MTV. His hand dangled out the open bedroom window so the smell of smoke wouldnât get stuck in your innocent little bedroom.
He stretched, and you watched with an open mouth as he blew the cigarette smoke out the window. Pretty fucking lips, his muscles all taut as he turned. He looked back at the TV, and you exhaled a shaky breath. Fuck, you were so turned on you wanted to scream. Your pussy was just drooling into your panties, clit throbbing and aching for attention, your entire body felt empty, desperate to be filled up.
You were practically buried in your stuffed animal collection, which was embarrassing on any other day (Patrick had nearly laughed at the sight, but youâd insisted that you couldnât just throw all of them away⌠they were nostalgic), but youâd never been more grateful until that moment.
You were already pretty well covered, thanks to the near life size bear sitting beside youâ the perfect safety net. Your pulse was thundering in your chest, making you feel a little dizzy with anxiety or arousal, or a strange new mix of both.
You were burning hot between your thighsâ throbbing and soaked all sticky and slick. Your legs twitched instinctively as your fingertips dipped into your core, where a pool of your arousal awaited. A shaky gasp escaped you as you moved your slick fingers up to your neglected clit, and you quickly muffled the noise into your pillow
It was like youâd never really touched yourself before. The level of need and desperation within you was completely unknown until that point. Your eyes rolled back as you began grinding up against your fingers. Your teeth dug into your lip to stay quiet as you played with your clit as discreetly as you could.
Patrick shifted to get more comfortable. Flexing his thighs just slightly, rubbing sweaty palms against the muscles there. He ashed his cigarette with his gaze locked on the TV. âThis shit is so boring,â he muttered.
And fuck, his voice. You considered arguing with him, just so heâd get louder, and his voice would get more intense, and youâd be able to fuck yourself to completion to the sound of him speaking.
Your poor, neglected pussy clenched around absolutely nothing, begging to be filled by his dick, his fingers, your fingers, a toy, a hairbrush, fucking anything. Your panties were absolutely soddenâ drenched to the point of forming a transparent little spot right above your cunt.
If Patrick had looked over, or, if he had unfocused his eyes just right and peered into the reflection of the TV screen, he wouldâve been able to make out the sight of your fingers, moving steadily, desperately against your clit. If he had done that.
Your toes curled just slightly, thighs closing around your hand as you got closer and closer. It was loudâ just how much you were moving. You neededâ god, you needed so much in that moment. You grabbed a random plushieâ a pink rabbit that you probably got with that yearsâ Easter basketâ and held it over your lap. Yeah, that worked. Super casual, perfect way to hide the way your hand was working your clit.
And the pressure. Jesus Christ, the pressure of the warm stuffed animal over your cunt was too nice to resist. Youâd have to throw it away after, you knew, but you couldnât help but grind yourself up against it. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was his lap, or his thigh, or something warm and soft and hard for you to rut against.
But you couldnât close your eyes, because you had to watch Patrick. To make sure he didnât know what you were doing. An arm slung behind his head, the muscles highlighted by the shiny sheen of sweat there. You whimpered pathetically, muffled into the pillows. He probably heard, he pretended he didnât. It was that level of feigned ignorance that let you keep going.
He probably knew, you could pretend he didnât. The razorâs edge between you and a much needed, earth-shattering orgasm hinged on that level of ignorance.
So you pathetically humped against your fingers, and the stuffed rabbit, and chased at the bliss that was so fucking close you could taste it like metal on your tongue. Your thighs squeezed around the rabbit as you came, soaking through and making even more of a mess of your panties, and the rabbit, and your sheets, and your fingers.
You hadnât realized how loud you were breathing. It was like someone had been holding you underwater and you could only just now hear the world with a shocking sense of clarity. Your body felt hot all over, your legs felt like jelly. You hid the stuffed rabbit beneath a discarded blanket, a problem for later. Legs crossed so you could hide the soaked mess between your legs.
Sure, you could play that off.
âYou couldâve asked me to leave,â Patrick said around his cigarette. There was a twist to his lips, a sense of amusement. âNah, you probably didnât want me to. Too busy eye fucking me while you defiled that poor little bunny.â
He stood, noticeably hard in his shorts, which you werenât looking at werenât looking at werenât looking at. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, all while wearing the smug sort of expression that got you to this position in the first place. Really, it was all his fault. His eyes trailed up your legs, to the glistening mess coating your upper thighs, and the sheer mess of your panties.
âHuh.â His hands moved up your thighs and you exhaled shakily, parting them more to accommodate him, whatever he wanted, whatever he was thinking. You could come a thousand more times just for him, at his every whim. But that was the repression talking, not just because of him.
Your breath caught as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and he peeled them down. His expression held the same sort of concentration that you saw him exhibit on the court. Focused on you, it made your heart pound.
âNo wonder you were so loud, huh?â He teased, fingers gliding through your slit. It was embarrassing how wet you were, coating his fingers and palm in your arousal. Each light brush against your clit made your thighs twitch, made a desperate keen escape you. âI could hear it the second you started, by the way. But even before that, I could fucking smell how turned on you were. You couldâve said something, you know. I wouldâve taken care of you, made it real nice.â
You moaned softly, eyes wide as you peered up at him. When he removed his hands from your pussy you fucking whinedâ pouting as he held his fingers up to the light and grinned at the glistening mess left behind. You watched those fingers disappear between plush lips, tongue sweeping out to clean them up. His cock jumped behind the shorts he wore from want.
âIt doesnât have to mean anything,â you insisted, sitting up to rub him through the fabric. âItâs hot, weâre both horny and bored. Just use me. Itâll feel nice.â
He didnât take much convincing. Heâd been rubbing his dick raw on that stupid fucking inflatable mattress every night when you were asleep anyway. How could he not? You were just too adorable.
@poppy-metal your mind amazes me no words no thoughts just this <3 thank youuuuuu for this in my inbox it truly kept me fed
#i wrote this on the clock hashtag girlboss#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig fanfic#patrick zweig smut#challengers fanfic#challengers x reader
635 notes
¡
View notes
Note
YOU SAID SOFT!JASON AND I CAME RUNNING
soft!jason who just needs a fucking hug but its a stubborn bitch about it until reader basically forces him to hug her (its koala szn ok i dont make the rules) and his resolve is just GONE and he melts into her touch bc he really needed it
I follow the book of SZA for this season.
Personally ima imagine Gotham Knights Jason cause he gives off ugly bulldog vibes and I love that, but all Jason lives matter here đâ¤ď¸
â
Itâs been a while since youâve witnessed a squash get butchered into many interesting pieces.
The tackling of the oddly tough spaghetti squash was always handled by your boyfriend, who made cutting it into its prepared state look incredibly easy. Cut it into multiple rings, season them, roast them, then fork out the perfectly cooked, sizable noodles with said utensil.
He was lost in thought, he had to have been, as said rock hard vegetable had been resorted to crooked, uneven cubes. His bowed head and dark expression after you quickly noticed, only signified the assumption to be true.
âJason.â You tried his name again for a second time, concerned enough to settle a hand along his forearm. It was a miracle he hadnât lost a finger yet, but knocking on wood in your mind wouldâve been powerful enough to make it happen.
âJason.â
The knife pauses, the man blinking once as if someone snapped in front of his face. He lifts his head a bit, coming back to his senses only to realize the state of what mess heâd created on the cutting board.
âShit,â Jason mutters once, glancing over to see if the other half of the spaghetti squash was still intact.
âShit.â The curse was further dragged out a little louder. Too lost in his dark cloud of remembrance to realize he butchered it all. Great. Just great.
âHey,â you speak up, watching him catch your gaze for a split second before avoiding it, quickly setting the knife down.
âHey.â He clears his throat, his hands piling together the fragments of their now ruined meal. âSorry.â
âItâs okay,â You try to insist, watching him scoop up the pieces in his hands. âWe can still roast it, make it into something still eatable.â
Jason didnât respond.
This makes your worry meter spike just a little bit more.
âWhatâs with that frown handsome? You love Italian night.â You question, keeping your hand settled along his forearm.
There was nothing Italian about this dinner, except the homemade sauce and crumbled choice of sausage from an authentic butcher.
He groans but not out of irritance for your words. His hand shifts, making your hand etch back as he leans against the counter, his head bowing once more.
âNothing.â
Whatâs going on in that kind mind of his? Was he involuntarily reminiscing of topics and experiences you donât dare to mention? Was he beating himself up inside for his slip up, ruining a crucial part of your guysâ dinner?
âCome here,â you step closer, slightly extending your arm out a bit as an offering.
Jason nearly etched his head off to the side, nearly mumbling an âNo. Mâfine babe,â but you werenât having it.
âCome heeere,â you tried again, reaching your arm up along his opposite bicep, attempting to capture his broad build into your limited embrace.
You make the effort to squeeze in between the tall man of muscle and the kitchen counter, managing to fit both hands over hud shoulders, securing them being his neck.
âWe can fix it.â You tell him before he can say otherwise, his brow either furrowing or raising in mixed surprise, and or denial, âWe can ask Alfred for one of his secret recipes. If it doesnât work, fuck it. Weâll make nutella sandwiches or something.â
His brow sharply quirks.
You return the expression with a smile.
Youâre a bad influence on him. He adores that about you.
He huffs, an edge of his tone resembling a weak, throaty chuckle. A corner of his lip raised into a limp smile, which was all you needed to see.
âLong day?â
He merely has the strength in his social battery to respond as his head lowers to settle along your shoulder. With a single sigh, the weight of his body against yours nearly had you squished against the counter. A pleasant company along your sides were those âunrealisticallyâ large hands guarding your back from digging too deep against the marble countertop edges.
âYeah.â
Your small hand cradles the back of his head, nearly soothing the pain from his tension headache. His eyes close, another small sigh leaving his nose. Not all of the palpable stress leaves his body, but your comfort nearly dulls it down into something much more manageable in seconds. Something much more bearable.
Your soft voice floods his aches and pains with a golden warmth of serenity. Your secret super power did wonders on his heart and mind. You didnât even have to try.
âHowâs Nutella sandwiches sound, actually?â
âWe donât have the marshmallow fluff.â
âNo, but.. think we got strawberries.â
His brow slightly quirks again. Tonight sounds like itâs getting better already.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#dc jason todd#jason todd x y/n#gotham knights jason todd#guess what my dinner was by reading this
867 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Core Fusion AU
The people that live in the Infinite Realms are able to fuse like gems in Steven Universe. Why you may ask? It's because their body is made up of ectoplasm that comes from their core, which is very similar to how a gem's form is made up of light and comes from their gem itself.
Fusions occur when two or more ghosts share a similar strong emotion or obsession, such as protection, love or hate. The fusion is a state where the occupants share thoughts and work together to operate a single body, so a lot of trust needs to be present or a singular goal in both minds.
Core Fusions also merge unique powers together to strengthen or link them together more.
Due to this, core fusions are typically seen as a way to show trust in any form or bond between ghosts, and as a way to strengthen forces and power.
Danny is probably able to fuse with ghosts and humans but was never told that it was possible for him bc he's half-human.
Now, this could work for both Dp x Dc and Dp x BNHA.
Dp x Dc
Danny can fuse with people who have been touched by death or have been dead and came back (like Jason).
The fusion would be a physical form that mixes both or more appearances while their cores (pseudo or not) appear as jewellery they wear as the fusion, which changes depending on the fusion.
Since I'm fixated on the dead on main ship right now, let's say that Jason is the one to core fuse with Danny first, and there can be an in depth backstory on how they meet and leads up to the core fusion, and it helps with the pit rage. Danny takes them to either Frostbite or Clockwork to figure out what is going on and they learn about core fusion and how it works.
-possible plot idea ahead-
In Gotham, Red Hood has been MIA for several months from both being a vigilante and a crime boas, and the rest of the batfam are freaking out about it; especially since a new crime boss has come into play going by "The Monarch" or "JD Fent" (The Monarch plays into Danny being either Ghost King or an adjacent role in the Infinite realms, and the JD Fent is a mix of their names bc I think it's cool :D).
Meanwhile, Jason and Danny have been chilling together using core fusion to keep away from the batfam and have been improving Crime Alley with Danny's inherited chaotic mad scientist gene being used to harness ectoplasm as a renewable energy since Gotham has a large quantity of it (bonus points if the ectoplasm can be re-filtered to be safely used again for power).
The GIW or another ghost could show up in Gotham to hunt down JD and the batfam accidentally get captured since a lot of them have died (I think??).
Cue a garnet-style reunion and a "stronger than you" scene before escaping and telling the rest of the batfam the truth.
Dp x BNHA
Similar to the other one, but quirks count as mini-cores and that's how people gain their powers. Quirkless people don't have cores and therefore don't have powers.
Danny could be able to fuse with the previous OFA users and just pull them out of Izuku or they could just fuse by Danny grabbing onto Izuku when using his quirk in a fight.
And I'm just imagining during one of the fights Danny grabs onto Izuku and a flash of light shoots out and once the light clears, Danny is gone and a person with three sets of arms with an appearance similar to Danny's and the other OFA users mixed into one before battling it out with the LOV.
Please let me know if anything doesn't seem like it works! And this prompt is free to use by anyone if they want to! :]
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x bnha#dcu#bnha#core fusion au#dead on main#this was a last minute thought#probably going to write more about this later#imagine a punk royal looking dude that's very tall and possibly two sets of arms and eyes and you've got JD Fent#this is inspired by steven universe#jason probably told his group about the core fusion but not the batfam just to mess with them#alfred probably knew#you can't hide anything from him#principal nezu would have a field day causing chaos with Danny's fusion shenanigans
221 notes
¡
View notes
Text
the witch's diner [w.i.p] - a. azul
summary; in which a new witch comes to nrc, ready to take over the restaurant business
genre; rivals to lovers (probably), witch is used as a gender neutral word, reader is a piranha mer-person (i think at least), magicless! reader, reader is not yuu (i hope that much is obvious), written at least a year ago, and now impulse posted bc i want to, possible series if im feeling silly, READER'S PERSONALITY IS [slightly] INSPIRED BY KDRAMA WITCH'S DINER
[gender neutral reader] [TEST RUN PREVIEW]
a/n; this has been sitting in my google docs for a while and never posted bc i just do that and also i never post even half of my drafts so that's just a given really. if i find it in myself to continue this maybe i will. but i wanted to post this as like a test run or a wip.
you dont need to watch witch's diner to understand reader's story but i like the show so if you have time, watch it. i love song ji hyo sm. anyways i dont know what kind of fish i made reader, this was written in like sept of last year KSHSKDJEK it was probably between a shark or a piranha but im like 60% sure it's a piranha.
imagine azul's surprise when he found out about the latest witch of the sea.
how they made the most delicious of dishes and granted a wish with them. were they free of charge? no, that would put far too much weight on the balance of the world, they would explain.
then what about it being a signature spell?
they would simply laugh in their face, claiming that, "not anyone can simply be born with magic so powerful. why, i'm magicless."
no one really believed those claims⌠right?
it was such a big title to steal, and yet.. some random magicless person just happened to have such a power? azul didn't believe it when he heard about it at first, but then they arrived.
clearly they were of mer-person descent, their skin shiny, their teeth almost as sharp as a piranha, the side locks of their hair were a metallic-like blue gray and their height almost as tall as the twins that stand beside him. he can't quite figure out what kind of mer-person they were, but it was obvious enough that they were from his homeland. and then he heard the whispers from the other first years.
"wait! that's the person all the rumors were talking about!"
"what? the sea witch rumor!?"
"no way! they wouldn't be here, they're magicless, aren't they?"
"is it really them?"
"shh! we don't know yet!"
with a calm smile, they stand in front of the mirror.
"state thy name."
"y/n l/n."
"y/n, the nature of thy soul is sharp and intelligent and yet.. they possess no magic." quiet gasps and whispers erupt again but their smile stays calm, there's a smug glint in their eyes that only a few can see. "the shape of thy soul is octavinelle." the section of the octavinelle students freezes cold as they take their spot in their respective section.
they ignore the curious stares with ease. azul can't help but wonder what kind of talent they truly possess. he almost feels envious if he were to find out that they were just handed this with ease. and he was jealous of their lack of care for the gossip and whispers of their name after that announcement of their magicless self.
but a pair of twins watch them with sharp and amused eyes, one more mischievous than the other.
"hm, what an interesting fishy! don't you think so, jade?" one speaks.
the other hums in agreement, "yes, floyd. i wonder if those rumors were of any truth. how amusing that would be."
#twst azul#twst wonderland#disney twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader#twst azul x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland azul x reader#twst floyd#twst jade#floyd leech x reader#jade leech x reader
79 notes
¡
View notes
Text
If you really think about it, what Ritsu was going to do for Mob during Confession Arc (allow himself to be hurt again to snap Mob out of the state he was in) is pretty much exactly what Mob did for him during the Cleanup/Claw Arc of season 1. Mobâs wasnât intentional or planned out like Ritsuâs was going to be, but he found Ritsu in a violent and abnormal mental state and accepted him fully despite his actions, allowing himself to be bullied to protect Ritsu from enduring the pain of the consequences of his actions. And it was this self-sacrificial beating Mob endured from Koyama that snapped Ritsu fully out of his rebellion and bloodthirst by begging some âsuper powerful beingâ not to hurt him (like Mob did to himself in his head).
Also, âHalf of that is true, isnât it?â/âDont bother trying to get rid of me. Because Iâm your brother.â VS âThis isnât some separate, scary version of you. Itâs a part of you.â/âBecause Iâm your younger brother.â
[ID: A series of Mob Pyscho 100 screencaps, here described in pairs.
Ritsu with shadowed eyes and Mob with solid glowing white eyes.
Mob looking serious or neutral and Ritsu with a fearful, shocked expression.
Mob kneeling with a genuine smile and Ritsu smiling with self-assurance.
Ritsu crying and looking battered and Mob sweating and looking harrowed. End ID]
But Ritsu decided to change the ending this time, and end the cycle of self-sacrificial trauma.
Of course, parallels in Confession Arc is a given bc itâs half of the entire point, but itâs fun to explore them.
#mp100#mob psycho 100#confession arc#cleanup arc#claw arc#shigeo kageyama#ritsu kageyama#mp100 meta#mp100 analysis
665 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Been thinking abt the finale + potential reboot plotlines and I've really come to the conclusion that TO ME the last thing we actually see from Dean's POV in the finale is him getting into the Impala to drive. Which then segways into the plot of The Winchesters and all the universe hopping and evading Jack / God to stay out of Heaven (and searching for Someone).
The brothers meeting on the bridge however is Sam's POV and crucially Sam is....not actually in heaven. He's still on earth, still the same age he was when Dean dies, and he's stuck in a dream state. Which is why his whole life flashes like a blurry montage. This is a djinn-dream-esque scenario (he did Not cope well with Dean's death) or a Chuck won / Jack corrupted by the god power purposely putting him in a dream state to get him off the playing board, either way, he's dreaming but not actually dead. Which ties into how the other characters still on earth like Jody, Garth, Donna, etc will eventually find him and realize Something Is Up. Also I think it would be pretty sweet if Sleeping Beauty Sam gets woken up by Rowena for a full circle parallel moment with their arcs, how Sam was meant to kill Rowena and cast her down to Hell and now Rowena is the one to break the curse and essentially bring him back to "life" and out of the fake Heaven in his mind.
Meanwhile, Dean is still out there on the run, universe hopping and searching for a certain portal. He eventually crashes the Impala into the Empty (actually in the cold opening of the reboot, bc we got a Lot to get through, we are Starting with the Empty Rescue). And he finds the Empty in chaos. Since everyone is awake, Cas and Billie have formed an alliance and are leading a rebellion. Lots of familiar faces of dead angels and demons. Dean ends up being less a knight in shining armor and more the getaway driver (the magic tardis Impala can open portals for them). Dean, being dead, also can finally glimpse at Cas's trueform and oh boy. He falls even more in love, if that's even possible. (And horny. He saw tentacles.)
They make their escape, along with other angels and demon allies, (Crowley, welcome back!) And then....they have the rest of the season for other plot shenanigans. Rescuing Jack from the god power, saving Sam, universe hopping and fighting more Chuck fail-safes, and of course, destiel things<3 Pale coconuts will collide. Passionately. Multiple times. In my reboot at least.
This also all works perfectly with 1.) Jared saying he doesn't want to do a long reboot season, that's ok dude! You can be asleep for half of it! 2.) Misha not wanting Cas to be sidelined to the Empty for most of it and just be "rescued" as the main plot and 3.) Jensen's continual desire to be Dean again for as long as they'll let him
67 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Hiiiii, could you explain you npd Zane hc to me? As someone who lives with a narcissist, Iâm very interested.
IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT!!!!!! FOR SO LONG!!!!!!
Tw I think bc ik i will be mentioning sh. But only for a sentence or two.
Mostly just "he's just like me fr". I get how it can sound confusing, especially as a lot of people tend to see Zane as the opposite of what a (stereotypical) narcissist would act like, so I'll try to explain in a way that makes sense.
I'm going to list off traits I see in him, and then what caused it and how it developed over time. Starting with the traits.
- Pixal is 100% his fp. I don't think there's anything to say about it that hasn't been said already. You don't just give a girl half your heart because you "like her a little" without having some issues.
- "Be envious of others/believe others are envious of them". He stated himself that he envied Kai. He also has moments where he does things that make him look better than others ("I personally find old video games to be unchallenging", something about his tone when he was saying "being a nindroid, I wont be able to be digested.", he also just does a lot of random flips and shit when its not needed?? That part may be a stretch though.).
- "Withdrawal from situations where they may fail." In Quest for the Lost Powers, he almost quits out of fear that he won't be able to face the Ice Emperor without breaking down. He also tends to tell someone they shouldn't do something because the chance of failing is too high.
- "Feeling depressed or moody over not reaching perfection/secretly feeling insecure, shameful, and humiliation and fearing being exposed as a failure" In s4, he panics over feeling like he'll always be just a replica of the original Zane. He's desperately begging Pixal to save him from said panic too (which fits into the last trait). He still has similar fears to this day, feeling like being seen as just a robot takes away from his original design. Meaning he failed at fitting in, which was always his goal.
- "Have trouble interacting with others and easily feel sighted" in the entirety of S1-3, he struggles HEAVILY to talk to the others. Granted this does get better throughout the series, but it's getting bad again it seems. He often goes on solo missions or stays in the monastery/Destiny's Bounty. I personally think it's because he feels the others don't see him as vital to the team as they should, or he believes he doesn't need help with anything from anyone (but Pixal). The point is there is some sense of "they don't appreciate me enough".
- "React with rage or contempt to try to belittle others to make them appear superior". Again, bringing back the "I find older video games to be non challenging" quote. As well as the fact that every time Pixal is obviously very annoyed by him, he ignores her and carries on with what he thinks is the right idea (Detective/Pirate Zane obviously was a bad idea, but noooo Zane can't be wrong ever). He doesn't react with rage as much (at least not openly), however he does ignore people when he's doubted.
Ok! That's not as much as I thought! A few other things I wanted to point out, although these are also headcanons:
- His self esteem is TERRIBLE.
- What he believes he doesn't make up for in battle, training, etc, he tries to make up for in smarts and hobbies to impress people.
- He bases his opinions on people based on assumptions. For example, he'll assume everything about a person's personality and hobbies (sometimes even their skill level at those hobbies) based on first impressions. So, say he meets someone like Jay who seems very excited about something he doesn't like, his first assumption will be "this person is most likely annoying and a waste of time because they're trying to be as good as me, that's not egotistical that's just an observation. Everyone complimenting them is simply lying to them.".
- He refuses to believe any of his flaws are his fault, sure he can say he has flaws but they're all someone else's fault. It's never just how he is, it's always because "someone caused me to act like this".
- He switches between "I'm literally amazing I'm so smart I'm funny I'm good at everything" to "Everyone hates me for no reason I dont deserve any of this they're all terrible awful people" and then again to "I'm not good enough yet I need to push myself more so they'll see I'm better than they think". All because of a small bit of criticism. He absolutely cannot handle criticism. ("Why are you doubting me!? I'm a nindroid!" <- when Kai tried helping him, "Not now Pixal!" <- when Pixal told him trying to out-smart Nadakhan was a bad idea)
- I think him and Pixal argue a LOT. It's why I don't openly ship pixane. I believe ever since he found out she was Samurai X his trust issues got way worse (While he is easily trusting, once he does trust someone it's hard to not break it). He constantly uses their "no more secrets" promise agaisnt her, and he thinks that no matter what she or anyone else tells him, the probability of her keeping something from him is high, and he has to stop it (even if it means being extra clingy, possessive, and controling). But the other ninja somehow haven't noticed this from them, they just believe it's normal couple banter.
Sorry, like I said, this headcanon is coming out of my ass. Now I can talk about what caused it.
I see Dr. Julien as a good father to Zane, just not the best one. Like he's at the lower end of average. Not abusive so to speak, just overly critical and slightly neglectful. Zane's a robot, so why can't he do the things Dr. Julien tells him to do well enough! Julien accidentally made him too similar to the (daughter..ftm moment.) son he wanted, so similar that it turns out Zane needed the same amount of attention and support an actual child would've needed, which Julien didn't account for. Zane was used to only receiving the bare minimum of those two by s1. Unfortunately the bare minimum is far from enough. Not to mention the isolation he had to live through living in Birchwood, far from the village.
I think what we see as OG Zane is basically his child/early teen stage. Anything past s4 is late teen/adult, which is when his symptoms started showing up more. The other ninja, especially Wu, noticed he was starting to cling to Pixal much more (especially since she was in his mind). He'd also start spending more time on hobbies and things to impress people. Thinking if they thought his new self was better than his old self, he wouldn't be seen as a failed replica of the original Zane. He thought he could hide the fact it was all just to look better than everyone else, but either Kai or Cole picked up on it (Kai because he acts similarly in that way, and Cole because he's usually the first to notice things wrong with Zane.). When they showed their concern, Zane only saw it as motivation to try harder and them trying to take Pixal from him.
After the Never Realm, his self esteem and worth went to absolute shit. Not only was he abused and manipulated, he was at fault for the deaths of thousands.
But worst of all, he let himself be abused. Or at least that's what he believes (the Quest for the Lost Powers also confirms this!). He blames himself massively. How could he let himself fall for that? Why didn't he fully cover up the cave to stop threats from coming in? Why didn't he kill Vex when he got his memories back? Why did he let Vex control him? Isn't he supposed to be perfect? How could someone who claims to be perfect let himself slip up like that?
He definitely started to push himself more after coming back. In training, in battle, with maintaining the monastery, with cooking for the others, hobbies, you get the point. He'd completely forgotten to be patient with himself while trying to gain control over his powers and his life again. Meaning the next time he tried to use them in training, they were out of control and he ended up failing and hurting himself. But how? How could he not be perfect if he was trying as hard as he could? If he was programmed to be the best, why isn't he?
Pixal was also starting to get annoyed with Zane, he was way too attached and she knew that. It made her fall out of love, if there was any in the first place. Zane refused to let her separate from him though, especially since there was still the idea that she was keeping things from him. He believed Pixal didn't think he was worth caring about, causing him to purposely make himself worse in hopes her pity will keep her with him. He'd already been struggling with self harm, but now it was as a punishment for failing as well as a way to get Pixal not to leave (See why I don't ship them now?). I would love to talk about how I think he s/h but it'd take another post.
Now that Pixal is gone, he's getting way worse mentally. Which is why he seems like he's not working as well as usual (in the tournament). It's not like he's not trying anymore, it's that he hasn't let himself rest enough for his efforts to work.
That was way less than i expected to say (â シâ oâ シâ ;â ). Anyway! Yeah!!! It is just mainly headcanons, but if Zane were confirmed to have some kind of personality disorder in a different world where ninjago isn't for tiny kids I wouldn't be surprised!!!
TY TY TY TY FOR ASKING IVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG TO YAP ABOUT THIS. đđđđ
#ninjago#zane ninjago#sh tw#godddddd this has been marinating in my mind i hope it makes sense#i have other npd hcs for ninjago too#like Garmadon for one#although that's obvious#anyway if anything needs clearing up i can answer it in the comments sooo đ¤ˇđ˝#actually npd
38 notes
¡
View notes
Text
ok so like objectively yes ed did things wrong but not only do i personally feel no negative emotions about any of that, i swear it would make more sense tonally with the rest of the show to NOT make a huge chunk of s2 be about ed facing the consequences for and redeeming himself from the marooning/pushing lucius overboard/izzy toe thing. like if im wrong iâm wrong and itâs whatever but i really really think the focus will be more on edâs internal emotional state and how his choices were informed by trauma and how heâs going to learn to heal more than itâs gonna be like, Ed Learns Itâs Wrong To Maroon People And Force Feed People Their Own Toes. like if anything i think itâll be Ed Learns That He Deserves To Be Happy And He Also Realizes That Marooning People And Force Feeding People Their Own Toes Is An Unhealthy Coping Skill That Negatively Affects His Mental Health And He Learns New, Healthier Coping Strategies. like i think the focus of coming out of the kraken era is going to be almost entirely on edâs feelings, and any mention of how his actions harmed the rest of the cast will be brief and/or itâll primarily be played for comedy
which yes irl this would kinda suck to have some guy respond to getting his heart broken (and other stuff) by killing and maiming people and then have his whole journey of self-discovery be solely abt him and not any of the people heâs hurt. HOWEVER a biiiiiig part of the humor of the show is that the characters are experiencing some very real and very relatable self-esteem issues and insecurities and vulnerabilities, and all of that is placed on a backdrop of comedically gratuitous pirate violence. like this is a romcom and ed is basically going through the classic emotional beats of the romcom heroine getting her heart broken and eating a whole tub of ice cream and crying in her room for days before becoming cold and distant and âlove is deadâ edgy, only the joke is that bc heâs a pirate his âlove is deadâ romcom era includes some people actually literally dying. izzy and the crew all just happen to be in the blast radius for this joke, and while we as fans might love and care abt those characters too, the plain fact is that ed and stede are the main characters and the other charactersâs feelings or storylines or internal motivations simply do not matter nearly as much to the show as theirs (with the exception of maybe jim, and also maybe olu depending on how s2 goes). and thatâs literally just how romcoms work. this sort of âprotagonist biasâ is like, a core part of this kind of story.
and thereâs nothing wrong with not vibing with the story because of that. if season two comes and goes and you arenât happy with how the show handled the consequences of edâs actions in e10 thatâs fine, nobody has to feel any specific way about this show. but if iâm right and this is how s2 plays out and some of yâall donât like this, the problem is not that ofmd is bad. the problem is just that this is not the story you wanted or expected to be told.
i DO think, tho, that thereâs something very powerful abt a character like this being a queer indigenous man. heâs a gay romcom protagonist and narratively speaking his feelings trump all. this is a queer romcom that uses gratuitous slapstick violence as a punchline and where the queer main characters are allowed to get violent and unhinged about their feelings, and at the end of the day they ultimately get a pass bc itâs a gay romcom and the show is about them. like literally that description itself is more than i couldâve ever dreamed of from any tv show ever, and THEN youâre telling me that one of the main characters is indigenous???? itâs been a year and a half and s2 is right around the corner and i swear to god i still canât believe this show actually exists. we donât GET shows like this, we donât GET characters like this. ed teach is such a fucking blessing of a character and i love him with all my heart.
#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd meta#ofmd s2#ofmd speculation#ofmd s2 speculation#edward teach#ed teach#edward teach born on a beach#s2 predictions#txt#meta#mine#og#this is why im unironically on team âed did nothing wrongâ#the show gives us very realistic depictions of emotional trauma#and slapstick looney toons depictions of physical trauma
330 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner! I am fuelled up with coffee and my adhd medication, so this is about to be a RIDE.
Apologies in advance, since this post will probably get quite long and also scientific at some point, but I will try to keep it as plain and easy to understand as possible. Combine two of my special interests (Good Omens and chemistry) and you get absolutely insane infodumps; it's a blessing and a curse.
As always, this is simply a theory, and maybe I'm wrong, maybe we'll never find out. But it's an option, and I have canonical proof.
There have been endless theories about why the Gabriel-Hiding-Miracle (which I will shorten to GHM) set off alarm bells in heaven and reached a strength of 25 Lazarii. Are their half-miracles really combined that strong? Does it depend on their relationship or love?
Well, today I am here to tell you that, actually, there is no such thing as "half a miracle".
We are going to have a closer look at miracles themselves, but the first important thing to keep in mind is that most of the time, Crowley and Aziraphale are incredibly unreliable narrators and have barely any inside into how heaven and hell work. Remember, they have been on earth since 4004 BC, they are certainly not used to any of the internal routines and functions.
They can tell us all kinds of things, but that does not make them true.
Now, miracles!
Both angels and demons are capable of performing them, though they only seem to be counted as actual miracles when they happen on earth, seeing as they measured in Lazarii.
One Lazarus equals the miracle power it takes to bring one human being back to lifeâthe consequence is that miracles must be bound to the earthly plane, since that is where their unit originated from. When they are performed in heaven or hell, they are still miracles in a broad senseâcelestial beings using their powersâbut not in a way that ascribes to the measuring system.
Neil once answered an ask about Lazarus as a unit, and he stated that miracles tend to be measured in Centi- or Millilazarii (mostly the latter), meaning that the GHM was about 1000x as strong as your usual, daily miracle. The labeling also tells us that the scale for Lazarii is the same as the metric one.
If we treat Lazarus as a base unit, we need to find a way of defining it that is unique to this specific unit.
Globally, we have a collection of agreed-upon base units, the SI units (coming from the French Système international d'unitĂŠs, aka International system of Units). Those seven are second, metre, kilogram, ampere, candela, kelvin, and mole, and every single one has a very specific definitionâthey are too bloody complex. None of them can be expressed with one of the other SI units, which gives you great definitions such as these:
A little excursion for those that are interested: For a very long time, the kilogram was defined by. well. A cube. The "true kilogram", which is still in a vault somewhere in Paris. However, you can probably imagine why basing a unit on a physical objects isn't a great idea long-term, so back in 2018, the kilogram was redefined, along with three other units.
Now, all SI units are defined by natural constants, not physical objects, making them accurate and (more or less) absolute.
Back to miracles!
The reason I am telling you all this is that we need to find such a basic definition for miracles, too, or at least an approximation.
My proposal is that a miracle itself is the force exerted on matter by a a celestial being. That force is then measured in Lazarii, with one Lazarus being equal to the force required to bring one person back to life. This is where it gets a bit tricky because how do you visualize that kind of force?
Matter cannot be destroyed only created, so all the particles currently making up our bodies will continue to exist long, long after our deaths. Meaning when a person dies, the amount of matter that was them is still there, the consequence of which is that their body can be recreated at will. Now, souls seem to be separate from matter, making them metaphysical and thus irrelevant for this conversation. I am going with the assumption that once a body has been recreated, the soul can be put back into without additional cost in miracle power.
There might be another base unit hidden in the metaphysical, but that's a conversation for another time.
All of this amounts to one fundamental hypothesis:
A miracle is either done, meaning matter gets changed, or it isn't, meaning matter remains unchanged.
There is no in-between stage here, a "half-change" is not possible, either you exert a force on particles or you don't. What kind of change that is might not be tangible for us, but a change is a change.
When Crowley and Aziraphale try to hide Gabriel, they change the way he gets perceived, how others perceive him, aka they change the way his presence is processed.
The closest thing to compare it to, in my opinion, is the superior mirageâthe Fata Morgana. At its core, it means that light bends as it passes through air layers with different temperatures; your eyes perceive the bent light rays and your brain processes them accordingly. You see images that aren't actually there.
Celestial beings look at Gabriel but see something that isn't actually there, so the "true" image remains hidden.
If we stick to this metaphor, then Crowley creates a mirage for any ethereal beings, and Aziraphale creates one for occult beings. The creation of that mirage is one miracleânot half a miracle, but ONE singular miracle. Both of them change matter, and both of these miracles can exist independently of each other.
Crowley and Aziraphale could have created their mirages on their own, meaning that two miracles were performed, not two halves of one miracle.
If you listen to the sound of the miracles, you can hear that it's different from the other ones they have performed on their own, with the "combined" miracle having two sound peaks instead of one. Tumblr hates it when I upload audio files, so have it like this.
In order, the miracles are Aziraphale lowering the chandelier and moving the shelves, Crowley removing the paintball stain, and the GHM.
IF they had both performed half a miracle, the end result would have been one miracle, meaning it should have sounded like any otherâbut it didn't! Two connected sounds, two simultaneous miracles.
There is still one thing left to talk about, which is the power of their miracle. Here is where my previous definition of Lazarus as a unit comes into play again.
Heaven measured a miracle power of 25 Lazarii aka a very high amount of force exerted on matter. You might think Alex, if they both performed their own miracle, how come that the alarm bells rang?
If we keep up the mirage metaphor, we can explain that! Crowley's intention was to make it so that ethereal beings cannot perceive him, so his miracle changed matter in a way that aligns with ethereal perception.
However, Aziraphale intended to change matter so that occult beings cannot perceive Gabriel, meaning his miracle changed matter in a way that is adapted to occult perception.
This is where science comes into play again!!
You see, particles aren't just particles, they are waves too. Wave-particle duality describes exactly that, e.g. an electron being both a particle and a wave at the same time. A connected theory to that is the Uncertainty principle, which describes the inability to measure the exact value of two different properties at the same time.
Or, to put it more plainly, if you try to figure out the exact position of a particle, its momentum becomes blurred, unclear. If you then focus on the momentum of the same particle, you can no longer describe its exact position.
You are probably looking at me now, thinking where the fuck are they going with this and why are there suddenly so many principles of quantum mechanics in a Good Omens meta post???
Crowley changes matter in way A.
Aziraphale changes matter in way B.
Those changes can co-exist, like an electron being a particle and a wave at the same time. Howeverâand this is scientific theory adapted to celestial miraclesâwhen an angel looks at Gabriel, then they are focusing on state A. When demons are looking at Gabriel, they are focusing on state B.
Focus on A and B becomes blurry. Focus on B and A becomes blurry.
Maintaining that double-state requires power though, because compared to wave-particle duality, these states aren't natural, they're inflictedâmatter was changed. It's like the matter around Gabriel is flickering between those two states, a light switch trying to find a neutral position when there is only on and off.
How do we measure that power? In Lazarii.
The miracle energy that heaven measured is not that high because they each performed half a miracle and combined it into one, it is that high because they each performed one miracle that stands in opposition to the other; as a result, two different states need to be maintained at the same time, meaning the manipulation is ongoing, meaning it needs a fuckton of power.
If you want to keep balancing your light switch, you need to keep trying, you need to keep up the pressure, otherwise you either click it off or on. Same thing with the hiding miracle.
Twenty-five Lazarii.
The power you need to exert on matter to reshape twenty-five peopleâor to continuously hide one being from two opposing observers with rapidly-switching state changes.
While I think the whole "it's because of love" theory is fun and cute, scientifically it really doesn't make much sense because their powers have rules similar to our base units, so me must approach and treat them as such.
With that, thank you to everyone who made it this far and managed to survive our little excursion into the field of quantum mechanics.
Questions, thoughts, additions, etc. are very welcome!
#alex talks good omens#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable husbands#ineffable wives#ineffable spouses#good omens meta#half a miracle#alex's unhinged meta corner
92 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Smoke Sprite
Pairing: Captain Price x Trans Male Reader
WC: ca 7k
Synopsis: Price teaches you how to smoke cigars among other things
Content warning: 18+, ⢠MINORS DNI ⢠dry humping ⢠boot worship ⢠boot grinding ⢠verbal degradation ⢠praise ⢠alluded exhibitionism ⢠Sub! Reader ⢠Dom!Price ⢠reference to afab anatomy (sparsely!) ⢠power dynamics ⢠age gap (no specific age stated but in my head itâs like 10 years between them) ⢠no after care
Stand alone/ part of a series:
A/N: The usual disclaimer: English isnât my first language so excuse any grammatically incorrect sentences, spelling mistakes, ooc, plot holes⌠heads up for long sentences as well, who needs proper structure anyway.
First time writing smut too bc at some point we ought to dive into this. Am I right or am I right? Also idk how to do accents, as a non native speaker I have a whole vocab that consist of American and British words and at some point something may sound whack but just rewrite it in your head and enjoy the fic hehe
Also donât be fooled, you will actually learn about cigars here I did a deep dive for this
Few things were hard to come by when enlisted in the army. One of them being a good night's sleep. It was something you as well as many other soldiers battled with. Youâd found that the best way to cope with it was to stay up til your mind was as exhausted as your body and one of the ways youâd make the time pass was by smoking.Â
That���s how you found yourself sitting on the window sill of the little kitchen provided on base, half way through your third cigarette, wishing your mind would let your body go to bed.
It wasnât always bad being unable to sleep. Hours you spent awake (albeit against your will)Â were also sometimes hours youâd felt the most at peace.
Tonight felt like one of those nights and the peace washed over you in waves, so much so you finally felt like you were ready to head to bed.Â
Just as youâre about to follow through with that thought, a sudden noise at the door catches your attention.Â
You turn so quickly you almost drop the cigarette youâre smoking, ash falling over you with the motion. Â
Itâs too dark to see the intruderâs face but youâre still able to see how he freezes in place and quickly raises his hand in defense.
âRelax sergeantâ the tension leaves your body when you hear the intruder speak. Youâd recognize that voice anywhere. It was after all one that was on your mind when you couldnât sleep. âDidn't mean to scare you, was just gonna get something to drinkâ His voice sounds husky, heâd probably just woken up from his sleep.
You nod your head, as you go to sit down again, taking another drag of your cigarette as you observe the surprise guest.Â
His steps are sluggish, head almost dropping as he makes his way over to the fridge and you wonder to yourself if you should turn on some light so he doesnât trip.
âDonât know how you can smoke that shitâ Price says, somehow managing to express his disdain through his sleep like daze.Â
You snort at his words before taking another drag of your cigarette, blowing out a cloud of smoke only to watch it disappear again.Â
 âLook whoâs talkingâ you say referring to the cigar that always seemed glued to his hand.
He opens the fridge, seemingly searching for his drink before he takes out a bottle of water. Soon after he makes his way over to the kitchen counter, across from where youâre sitting. The light from outside shines down on him and you can finally see him properly as he leans on the counter and takes a sip of his drink.Â
Heâs dressed in some gray sweatpants and a matching tank top to go with it. It wasnât an unusual sight per say. Many times he'd complain about running hot easily so he always dresses lightly when he sleeps. However that didnât mean that you were unaffected by it.Â
âSeriously they taste like shit and smell bad tooâhe says before downing the rest of the water.Â
âI donât smoke for the tasteâ you say as your eyes wander from his clothes up to his neck, taking notice of the dog tags on him and the way theyâre glistening with the light shining down on them. Your gaze wanders further up, over to where his Adam's Apple lays and how it bobs every time he takes a sip of his drink, until your gaze finally lands on his face. His eyes are half lidded, lips parted and puffy and a flush coats his cheek. Itâs clear that heâd just roll out of bed especially with how mussed his hair is. Despite that he looks good, really good actually.
âYou should since these will take you out anywayâ he says, bottle now discarded on the counter and hands tucked into his pockets.Â
âTeach me how to smoke cigars thenâ You say tossing your cigarette out the window before turning in your seat to face him properly.
Price raised an eyebrow at that.
âWhat? You canât sleep, I canât sleep, might as well do something useful here. Teach me how to smoke cigarsâ
The older man scratches at his beard in thought before seemingly making a decision. With a grunt he signs for you to move over and you do as he says. He sits down next to you, one foot propped on the window sill and the other hanging to the side of it.
Price digs his hand into his left pocket,�� pulls out a wooden box of something, pops it open before sliding it over to you.
âTake whichever you want, it doesn't matter. Youâll be prepping it anywayâ
âPrepping?â You look at him like heâs grown three heads. It's a cigar after all, what is there to prep anyway?
He nudges his head, signaling for you to take one. When you do so, he takes one himself before he closes the box and pockets it again.
âItâs not like a cigarette. You donât just shove it into your mouth and smoke it. All good things come with preparation and in moderation.âÂ
âAre we still talking about cigars here â you grin widely as you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively.
Price grunts at your words but doesnât do much more as he goes into teacher mode.âFirst thing first, you want to know what youâre working with. That can break or make the experienceâ
You nod as you look down at the cigar in your hands. However, figuring out what youâre working with wasnât as easy as it seemed. Youâve smoked for years but cigars were outside of your expertise.Â
Price mustâve seen the stupefied look on your face because he says âDonât look at it like that, lad. Itâs a cigar not a ticking time bombâ
âSorryâ you say, shifting in your seat as your free hand fiddles with some loose lint from the sweats youâre wearing.Â
âThatâs alright. Letâs start with something familiar, yeah?â he mindlessly strokes his beard, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to think of how to explain it.Â
âYou lick your cigarettes right? How come you do that?â Youâre momentarily stunned by the fact that heâs picked up on this. But his question hits you next and you canât help but feel embarrassed when you confess.Â
âForce of habit I guessâ you shrug, rubbing at your neck as your eyes wander from him to some random spot on the window sill.Â
Hey, youâre a smoker not a smoke connoisseur. You donât know the ins and outs of nicotine.Â
He sighs heavily and drags his hand down his chin before he speaks âThatâs alright.â he says before he goes to explain. â It's a form of prepping, not really necessary for cigarettes but some smokers do it. However prepping is essentials for cigarsâ
He then goes on to raise his arm in the air, giving you a clear view of the cigar in his hand.
âFirst thing first you do a pinch test, itâs pretty simple really. You pinch it between your thumb and point finger. Do not roll it however. If itâs dry itâll cause unnecessary friction which in turn will cause more tears in the leafâ
He starts to demonstrate the step. You try to focus but your eyes canât help but wander all over his hands.Â
Despite the cigar being quite big, it looks something akin to a cigarette in his grip and although heâs got a rather delicate grip on the cigar you know just how rough he can be with his hands. Youâve seen it many times out on the field, and have even imagined what it would be like to be on the receiving end of the treatment. His hands always look so big and strong, dusted in chestnut hair and lined with thick blue veins. You canât help but think of how pretty they look as he demonstrates the step.Â
âYou still with me, lad?âÂ
You lick your lips, mouth feeling dryer than any tobacco leaf. âYeah â
âNow do so with yours. Remember just add some light pressure, it doesnât need much more than thatâ he says, once again demonstrating the step. You start to feel a pressure in your chest as heats floods from your head down to your feet. You try to focus on his words but they only seem to add to the lightheadedness youâre feeling.Â
âYou listening?â He asks, taking note of your dazed expression.
You only manage a hum in response to his question as you go to follow his instructions. âIt shouldnât crackle since they should be properly humidified anyway but itâs always good to know the basics yeah?â He says when you both notice thereâs no crackling to be heard from the cigar in your hands.
âNow we cut it. I keep this baby on me at all times â Price says before he pulls out a pocket knife.Â
âThere's all types of fancy shit for cutting but the principle is to cut as little as possible rather than the opposite. You just kind of snip it offâ he says as he places the knife at the tip and executes the move perfectly.
âNow you try,â he hands it over to you and you canât help but feel quite confident in this part. The task didnât seem complicated anyway. But as you go to cut it, it turns out to be much harder than it seemed. The cut is nothing like Priceâs. If anything itâs jaggedy and has the tobacco leaves crackling at the tip.Â
 âThatâs alright, you can-â
Before he gets the chance to say anything else, you wrap your lips around the tip, allowing your spit to smoothen out any loose pieces.Â
âOh- â you look up at Price only to see him swallow hard.Â
âThatâs a good ladâ he says, voice sounding deeper when he speaks âwas gonna say to not slobber it down in saliva but you seem to know your thing â
Your face feels hot when you go to respond.âThanksâÂ
Itâs strange- this relationship you got with your captain. At first sight it might seem that youâre the one throwing flirty remarks around here. And heâs the one who acts unphased, or even annoyed at your flirting attempts. But matter of fact is heâs the one making suggestive remarks whether consciously or subconsciously and youâre the one phased by it. You wish you too could be as unphased as him because his recovering time for these types of situations is remarkable, really.Â
His voice is void of any previous emotion when he goes to speak again âNow to the last part, we light itâ
And of course you try to keep with him.Â
âNever thought weâd get to itâ you say, hoping and praying you seem just as unphased as he seems . But you can still feel your face burning and your voice slightly wobbling and the intense look heâs giving you isnât helping you very much either.Â
âHey you wanted me to teach youâ Price reminds you with a pointed look.Â
âGo on pleaseâ you gesture dramatically before leaning back in your seat.
âThe way you choose to light it will affect the taste. Itâs all a matter of preference so to say â
âAnd how do you like yours to taste?â Your words come out more suggestive than intended and you can hear Price sucking in a sharp breath, head tilting and his eyes boring into yours when he says âI prefer to take my time with things, enjoy it thoroughly, make the most out of it if you know what I meanâ
The mood feels different; stirring in a direction that has nothing to do with cigars and everything to do with something else, something-
âYouâll achieve that with a soft flameâ
And it's quickly broken again.Â
Price fishes a box of matches out of his pocket, slides it open and takes a few of them before pocketing it again.
âAlways use two matches but donât be fooled, you canât hurry the process this is just to ensure the cigar burns even. You with me?â
You nod - maybe a bit too eagerly to show him youâre listening, brows furrowed and lips puckered in concentration and if youâd be focused on someone else youâd see the ghost of a smile on Priceâs face.Â
âYou strike the matches and tilt them downwards, then rotate your cigar around the them â
âLike a marshmallow â the words slip mindlessly out of your mouth and his eyes widen in surprise before he laughs.Â
You feel the tip of your ears go red but smile at what he says next âFuckinâ hell, sure like a marshmallow â
Instead of saying something else that would result in making a bigger fool of yourself, you choose to do as he says.Â
You take two matches from him and attempt to strike them.Â
However it feels like the universe is on a mission to make you seem like the biggest fool because for some reason you canât light up your match.Â
After your third failed attempt paired with some curses under your breath Price decides to offer you some help.Â
He leaves his place on the window sill, and leaves his cigar in the ashtray to stand behind you instead. But just as he does it, you manage to light them yourself. However for some reason he chooses not to go back to his seat.
âLike that,â you hear him before you see him, and smell his cologne behind the clouds of smoke.Â
You try to keep your focus as you slowly rotate the cigar in your hands
âGood lad youâre doing so good,â the words make you feel like a match ignited, burning from your head down to your toes. Â
âIs it done?â You donât know what youâre asking about- the lessons or the torture heâs unknowingly putting you through.
âEver heard of the word patience, kid?â he chides and if it werenât for your close proximity making you feel all funny youâd say something to him.
âJust one more round of matches and youâre good to go yeah?â His voice is gruff and breathy when he speaks, almost akin to the tone he uses when he gives commands on the field. You feel the wisps of hair from his beard brushing across your ear and the heat from the close proximity of your bodies. You chose to nod in response, opting to bite your tongue in fear of saying something you might regret later on.Â
Soon you find yourself with a lit cigar in your hands.Â
âThere now to the last stepâ the heat quickly disappears as a gust of cold wind creeps onto your skin and youâre sure itâs not because of the open window but rather from the space between your bodies as he goes back to his own seat. Â
âThe most important rule of smoking- if youâre to remember anything out of this- is to not inhale it but rather take a light drag. Your body and your lungs will be thankful for sparing them, see it as something you slosh around in your mouth rather than shove down your windpipeâ
You raise a brow at his choice of words.
âI am not the best teacher, â he shrugs before picking up his cigar again. Â
He puts it between his lips and takes a light drag of it and you canât help but think that he looks attractive doing it.Â
You never thought smoking was attractive. You smoked to ease your nerves and couldnât wrap your head around what would be so attractive about a little nicotine stick and the awful smell that came along with it. But looking at him now with his eyelids hanging low, head tilted to the side as he exhales the smoke, you finally understand why people thought so. Especially now, with his Adamâs apple on show, dog tags gleaming behind the clouds of smoke and his toned arms flexing every time he goes to take another drag of the cigar.Â
âYou do the most work in the beginning until you see white smoke. Thatâs how you know itâs properly lit and you can actually start to enjoy itâ Priceâs voice sounds stern when he speaks; like a knowledgeable teacher sharing information to his interested students. And you sure were interested: in more ways than one.Â
âMost work in the beginning huh?â You grin wolfishly at him.
âYou pull a lot of jokes, kid â he chuckles as he continuously spins the cigar in his hand.Â
Kid. Your nose scrunches at the word âNot a kid and who said itâs a joke?âÂ
He doesnât say anything. Instead he tilts his head and rubs his beard as if mulling over something before speaking again.
âYou try nowâ
You nod your head as you attempt to focus on the task at hand. But it isnât easy, your eyes flicker from his fingers, to his lips, to the way he sits leaned back in his seat with smoke surrounding him.
Before you know it youâre inhaling the cigar, doing the complete opposite of what he told you and within seconds you feel the smoke hitting you all at once; blurring your vision and sending you into a coughing fit. Â
âI told you not to inhale itâ he tuts as he leans over to take the cigar from your hands before he goes to pat your back âdamn shame you seemed so good at following directions, what happened?â
You try to speak but the burning sensation in your throat cuts you off. His hand is once again on your back rubbing up and down aimlessly before he suddenly gets up and you instinctively grab onto him âIâm just going to get something to drinkâ he says, repeating his words from before and you nod, allowing him to do so.Â
âHereâ he says a moment later, pressing a cold water bottle against your cheek.
You flinch away from the cold sensation, but grab it anyway, downing more than half the bottle within seconds.Â
âTake it easy or youâll choke again, boyâ
Despite the advice you find yourself unable to slow down and you down the rest like a man parched.Â
He chuckles at your actions and grabs hold of your chin, turning your head to face him.Â
âThat good?â He asks, eyes shining with both hints of worry and amusement.
You nod in response feeling heat creep up your neck and ears. The feeling intensifies when his thumb swipes across your bottom lip, wiping off any remaining liquid before he pops it in his mouth to lick it off of him.Â
âI - I can do betterâ you croak out, still trying to catch your breath.
âWhatâs that boy?â
You clear your throat and take a deep breath, braving yourself to speak âI meant what I said I can do it, let me try againâ
His gaze shifts between your eyes and your lips, seemingly making a decision when he goes to speak.
âAlright, come here â he says before he goes back to his seat on the window sill, cigar tucked back between his lips, and with smoke surrounding him. He looks delectable to say the least.Â
As if it were a reflex your body complies to his request, shuffling over to sit closer to him.Â
You can feel your knees brushing, smell the scent of his cologne mixing with the cloud of smoke, can even see each and every eyelash on his eye along with the gray hairs sprinkled across his chestnut beard.
You thought you couldnât get any closer than this but suddenly he leans further in and your eyes go wide as you watch him. His hand goes to your head, strokes your hair, and brushes back any loose strands or flies aways before it glides across your cheeks, until finally stopping at your lips.Â
âOpen up, nowâ he says, one hand under your chin and the other tapping his cigar against your lips.
âLets try this again, yeah? You did so well, don't want the lesson to go to wasteâ You hum in response, parting your lips before wrapping them around the cigar. However you donât take a drag. Instead you await his command.Â
âRemember gently, no need to put much effort into it, yeah?âÂ
You nod as you put all your focus into doing as he says and finally you manage to take a proper drag of it, enough to taste it and enough to blow it out properly as well.
âGood lad. I knew you could do it â the look of pride on his face along with his words goes straight to your head. Like the cat that got the cream, you think to yourself.
You go to take another drag of it and as you do he places his hand on the small of your back, soothingly rubbing up and down the length of it. You try to focus on the cigar rather than his touch because you fear that in itself will send you into a coughing fit. But itâs hard to stay focused on the cigar when his hand leaves the small of your back and makes its way up to your neck instead. Youâre just about to blow out the smoke when his hand wraps around your neck and gently squeezes it.
You part your lips in surprise and as you do so smoke leaves your mouth, coming out in little circles that quickly dissipate in the air. Your eyes widen at your little trick and he just chuckles at your reaction, before releasing his grip completely and leaning back a bit.
âLittle trick I learnt â he says innocently, shrugging even before he clears his throat, eyes avoidant of your own but manages a thank you when you pass the cigar back to him.
A rather awkward silence falls over you two as you try to process what happened. Priceâs hand around your neck- the shy reaction you got from it- the fact that he knew this trick in the first place. It all hangs in the air like clouds of smoke and puts your mind in daze. Itâs hard to snap out of it but once you do you wonder if you should say something or move on to the next subject. Looking at him you can clearly see heâs embarrassed about it so you choose to spare him but you also choose to store this moment in your mind for when youâre in desperate need of a replay. Â
âGotta give it to you, you were right about the taste. Itâs pretty nice actuallyâÂ
He inhales sharply at that, eyes falling to your lips as he goes to speak âYeah? Why donât you describe it to me? Last part of the lesson. Need you to name the flavors â His hand is now at your thigh, fingertips mindlessly tracing circles onto it and you think it isnât fair of him. He can clearly see the way your body is reacting to him- to his touches- to his words and he still expects you to function.
You mustâve taken too long to respond because Priceâs hand squeezes your thigh in warning âSergeantâÂ
âCreamy- it tastes creamy sir â you stumble over your words but still manage to get out a response.Â
He hums in response, hand tightening at your thigh before once again squeezing it to get your attention. âAnything else? Any specific flavor you can name. Go on, take another drag of itâ he says before passing the cigar back to you. For once youâre thankful that your body reacts so easily to his commands. Your headâs far too gone at this point to be able to give your body instructions.Â
You take another drag of the cigar, allowing the smoke to coat your tongue before exhaling it. Thereâs a rich sweetness accompanied with a certain bitterness dancing across your taste buds âCoffee tastes like coffee sir- maybe even hits of almond as well?â you say through batted lashes, eagerly awaiting his response.
âCorrect. My favoriteâ he hums in approval.âYouâre a quick learner,huh?â The phrase like the cat that got the cream rings through your head again but this time you couldnât care less. This time you'd gladly accept it. Youâd gladly be the cat and youâd gladly take all the cream especially if it was -
Price grabs you by the collar of your shirt and pulls you close. âYou know what else is good to learn? âÂ
You gasp at the sudden motion and instinctively grab onto him, one hand at his arm, the other barely holding onto the cigar. His voice is dangerously low and breathy and the way his hot breath washes over your neck raises goosebumps all over your body.
You can even feel the tell tale sign of his thick mustache brush up against your neck as he goes to say âsubtlety, my boyâ Â
Thereâs little to no space between your bodies. Heâs so close to you that you can hear his gruff voice forming the words at the back of his throat, and feel how they vibrate against his chest as he speaks them. Yet you ache to be closer so you grip tighter onto him and press your body closer to his.Â
âYou were fidgeting around in your seat and barely paying attention to what I was saying. I almost thought you were getting bored of the lesson but that canât be right now can it? âÂ
It's no longer wisps of mustache hair brushing against your neck but rather a full beard trailing up to the spot behind your ear. And every time he goes to speak, it brushes relentlessly against the skin, leaving burn marks behind him.Â
âNo- no sir. Iâm very eager to learnâ your mindâs starting to feel hazy, your breathâs quickening and you canât help but tighten your grip on him, nails sinking into supple skin. You hear him wince but canât bring yourself to care nor to loosen your grip.Â
There's a nagging voice at the back of your head telling you this is just a wet dream or even worse a hallucination as you lay bleeding out on a field. So to silence it you tighten your hold on him, hoping and praying you arenât just imaging him.
However he seems very much real because his arm feels firm and flexes under your tight grip. Every time you go to take a breath you smell the scent of smoke and cologne that seem to follow him and all you can see is his broad back and the small curls at the back of his neck.Â
âMm eager you say '' His accent is much thicker now, desire coating his tongue and slurring his words and his tone is playful like youâve never heard it be before. All of a sudden you feel his fingers at the back of your head, fingers burrowing into the thick mane of hair before he pulls your head up to face him.
âI expect a response when I speak sergeant â he says, tugging at your hair in warning.
You whimper at the sting, eyes batting up at him as you go to respond to him âY- yes sir Iâm very eager to learnâ
Price looks at you with half lidded eyes and with an arrogant smile across his lips as he goes to cup your cheek. âI suppose someone so eager wouldnât have any issues repeating the steps we learned todayâ
âNo sirâ you manage to spurt out a response as you lean into his touch.Â
âThatâs a good boyâ he says as his thumb caresses your cheek. âSo good for me, yeah?â His voice almost sounds like the one he uses on the field when he goes to praise his team, except this one is just a bit lower, more breathier and wraps around endearments only meant for your ears.Â
âHow about this,â he begins to say, hand slipping from your cheek, trailing down to your neck and landing on your shoulder. He takes his time to straighten the collar before he speaks againÂ
âif you can tell me all the steps we went through todayâ he trails off once again as both of his hands slide down the length of your arms before finally stopping at your thighs where they rub soothing circles onto them. âIâll reward you for it â Â
âOnly if you want to, of courseâ he says, as he goes to take his hands off your thighs.Â
âOh I want to â you say hurriedly as you grab onto his hand to keep them in place.â A lot, actuallyâ you add in a shaky tone feeling your face heat up at your own words.Â
His eyes flare with desire and he takes a sharp breath before he says âSit back for me yeah? One leg on each side of the window, need you to sit comfortably for this okay?âÂ
You do as he says, one foot on the desert ground and the other one on the wooden floor and you automatically lean back on the window frame to make yourself comfortable.
He on the other hand, has one boot clad foot propped on the window sill and the other one hanging to the side of, leaning back comfortably.
Your hands are trembling in your lap, fingers still gripping onto the cigar and you can see goosebumps rising on your bare skin but itâs not because of the cool metal pressing against it or because of the howling wind. It's rather something else and Price seems to know the very reason behind it because he says.
âYouâre shaking my boy are you nervous about presenting?â He asks in a mocking tone, before he takes the cigar from you and puts it in between his lips. While youâre trembling in your seat he looks as relaxed as ever, leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and with an expectant smile on his lips.
âNo-no sirâ you respond as you squirm under his expecting gaze.
âGet on with it thenâ he says sharply and you spring into action.
âThe first thing you do is prepare your cigar. That can make or break the experience⌠â you trail off as you scramble your brain for what to say next. But your train of thoughts is quickly cut off by a sudden pressure on your left leg.
Priceâs foot gently nudges your thigh and once again, as if it were a reflex, your body responds to him; legs spreading further apart, to make more room for him.
Suddenly, he starts tapping his foot impatiently, purposely grazing his boot clad foot against sensitive skin as he waits for you to recite the next step. Despite the sweats youâre wearing, youâre so worked up that every touch feels like heâs grazing bare skin.Â
âGo on. I didnât tell you to stopâ he warns as he puts a punishing pressure onto your thigh, harsh sole digging into soft skin and you wince at the impact before you speak.Â
âTo check if your cigar is moist you use your thumb and point fingers and squeeze - squeeze it from top to bottomâ the air is punched out of your lungs, your words breaking up as the boot moves from your thigh to instead rest directly atop of your dick.Â
You gasp, fingers grabbing onto the edges of the window sill as your hips buck to get more of the feeling âIâm sorry- Iâm sorry sirâ you say, feeling embarrassed at your bodyâs reaction.Â
However Price doesnât acknowledge your action nor your words. Instead he decides to raise attention to something else.Â
âNo underwear ?â He asks, taking notice of the wet patch forming on your gray sweats. Â
âNo sir I sleep commandoâ Price curses under his breath and you feel the pressure increase in between your legs.
 â Of course you fuckin doâ he hisses and presses down even harsher, making you jolt at the movement and you just know that the embarrassingly big patch is growing larger by the minute with the way Price grins down at the spot between your legs. And when you look down at yourself you donât only see the large wet spot on your sweats but you also see soil covered footprints all over it. The mess in between your legs shouldnât turn you on but the sheer sight of it makes you whimper and buck your hips.
âWhatâs the next step?â
You go to respond but end up choking on your words when you feel the fabric of your sweats slip between your folds and push directly up against your sensitive clit. He even goes to rock his foot side to side, boot continuously assaulting your sensitive numb.Â
âWhatâs gotten your little cock so excited you canât even speak?â
You whimper at his words, eyes squeezing shut as you lose yourself in the pleasure. âYouâre being mean sirâ
âMean?â he asks, voice dripping in faux concern but never once letting up on his torturous movements. âIâm just trying to reward you here. You want your reward, donât you?â
You nod frantically as you buck your hips up at him. All of a sudden he ceases any and all movements and you snap your eyes open up to look at him.
He raises a brow at you with a wolfish grin on his lips. You blink up at him for a moment, before it clicks; he wants you to work for it.Â
You almost huff at the realization. Nonetheless you adjust in your seat, hands propping behind your back as you bend at your knees before you gently start to rock your hips: his boot once again hitting your sensitive clit.Â
âWe - we cut it. Not too much though, just the tipâ you manage to get out the words before you break off into moans. You donât realize how loud youâre being until he shushes you. Itâs only then you realize that someone else can see or even worse hear you two.Â
âWhat if- what if someone sees us sir?â You ask but never once letting up on your movements.Â
It takes a while for Price to respond, too entranced with the sight in front of him, leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and cigar between his lips. You can barely see his face from the smoke surrounding him but the way his chest is rising and falling at a rapid beat and the way the cigar is shaking in his grip you know he is enjoying your performance.Â
Truth be told you donât even know if he heard you in the first place but when you go speak again he says âNo one will see anything I promiseâ he says in reassurance.âEveryoneâs fast asleep and if someone even tries to look or listen Iâll teach them to mind their own fuckin business. âÂ
With that you turn your attention back to chasing your high, this time uncaring about who can see or hear as you lose yourself in the pleasure.Â
However your attention is brought back to him once again when he says âBut maybe youâd like them to?â He says, voice sounding thick and gruff. You snap your head towards him only to see him glowering down at you with desire swirling in his blue irises and a playful smile at his lips.
You know heâs just entering the thought of it, he wouldnât do anything you werenât comfortable with. And you can see his gaze switching from your face to your body to gauge your reaction. And he must see the positive reaction your body gives because he continues âyouâd like for them to see how pretty you look all worked up for me? Maybe even jerk themselves off to you? Can't blame them if they did. You look too good like thisâ you can only moan in response as he continues to talk âmaybe youâd even want them to join us. One cock isnât enough for you. A slut like you needs to get all your holes stuffed to be happy isnât that right?âÂ
Your pace increases at his words as you lose yourself to the pleasure. But youâre quickly brought back to the present when he says âWhatâs the next step sergeant?âÂ
You blink back the haze, as you try to scramble your brain for what to say next.
âNext you light it - you need twoâ at this point youâre just spurting out nonesene, too busy chasing your pleasure.Â
Although his boot does hit your clit, many times - due to your fast paced beat- itâll miss, aim too clumsy and messy to reach it. It doesnât take long for you to make the decision to latch one hand onto his leg, the other making sure to support your weight as you adjust his foot so that the tip of his boot hits your clit every time you rock against it.Â
You know youâre putting on a show for anyone who might hear or see; legs spread wide apart, arousal and mud covering your sweats as you desperately cling onto Priceâs leg and moaning desperately. However you canât find it in yourself to care, canât focus on anything other than the pleasure coiling between your legs.
You look up at Price through half lidded eyes and mouth agape only to see a similar expression on his face.Â
âJesus, look at you grinding on me like a bitch in heat, you enjoying this hm?â
âYes yes sir, enjoy it so muchâ At this point you're slurring your words, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut as you focus on nothing else but the heat growing in your core.
 Your heels dig further into the floor, knees cramping from the awkward position and arms aching from supporting your weight for so long. But you refuse to let up on your pace. Youâre so close to the finish line you can almost taste it.
âAlmost thereâ you warn him before your mindâs too far gone to say something.
âThen you better explain the last step or there will be none of it, sergeant â he says as he squeezes your thigh in warning.Â
âYes sirâ you groan out before you will yourself to speak again âyou puff it - you do the most work in the beginning until-â you donât get to finish your sentence before youâre cut off by your own moan.
 âuntil what sergeant?â Is the last thing you hear before you lose focus of your surroundings, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as you chase your high on Priceâs boot.
âUntil - until - it starts working by-. â is all you manage to get out before youâre cumming- stumbling over the finish line with your back arched and with a cry of victory.
You donât even get to warn him before youâre falling back in your seat, arms giving out and legs losing their footing. As you do so the boot accidentally rubs against your clit and for the first time since you ended up in this situation you jerk back from the friction, dick too sensitive.Â
You end up leaning against your elbow, window frame uncomfortably pressed against your spine and Priceâs hands on your thighs keeping you from falling straight to the ground.
âYou alright?â Price asks after a moment of silence and you feel his hand on your thigh again, rubbing soothing circles on them.
You hum in response, still lost in bliss and he chuckles as he gives you a moment to come down from it. Â
Once you do, you flutter your eyes open and smile lazily at him.Â
 âGood job my boy, you did so wellâ
âThank you, sirâ your face burns as you respond. him and the phrase like the cat that got the cream rings through your head once again.Â
Suddenly you see Priceâs brows furrow, tongue poking past his lips as he looks down at his feet.Â
âLooks like you left a stain thereâ he says as nonchalantly as possible and points to his soiled boot âcould you clean it up for me please?â
Your eyes flash in surprise and for a moment the words hang in the air. Â
But as quickly as they came, the words  dissipate leaving a haze behind that seems to take over your brain.
âOf - of course, sir â you say as you scurry out of your seat but before you can get any further he stops you with his foot, firmly pressing it against your chest âwith your tongue sergeant â
You suck in a breath and you can feel your dick twitch in your soiled sweats.Â
âYes sirâÂ
You lean in so that youâre face to face with the boot heâs wearing. Itâs a simple black boot, worn out from everything itâs been through but thereâs one spot on top of it that shines like itâs been newly polished.�� Itâs the very same spot you zoom in on, tongue poking past your lips as you trace a path from the very bottom up to the top of it.
You feel the soft leather scrape against your tongue as the familiar taste dances across your tastebuds. And every time you go to lick the boot your nose brushes against the leather and you smell yourself on it. Despite the work you put into cleaning it you know youâve ruined the spot with your arousal and instead of feeling bad about it you canât help but moan at the fact that he canât hide the evidence of the event that had transpired. You give it one last lick before you kiss the boot and smile at him.
He curses under his breath, a mix of swear words accompanied with your name leaving his lips and your grin widens as you sit up again.Â
âEnjoy the rest of your night, kidâ he says all of sudden, patting your thigh lightly before jumping to his feet. âWhen youâre ready to put out the cigar, just let it rest on the ashtray, itâll put itself out that wayâ he says as he shows how to do it with his very own cigar before making his way over to the door.
Within seconds youâre up on your feet, moving on wobbly legs you almost fall back on the window sill.Â
âHey, where are you going?âÂ
âLessonâs overâ he says simply before looking down at the watch on his wrist âand Iâm old and need my rest. â He looks away from his watch to the mess between your legs.Â
âBesides, you need to get cleaned up. See you tomorrow, kidâ he says with a wink as he leaves.Â
âSee you tomorrowâ you say into the now empty room, chuckling in disbelief as you plop yourself back down on the window sill. Youâre a sticky mess and should probably go shower but instead you take a drag of your cigar before you say âThis manâs truly something elseâ
#captain john price#john price#captain john price x reader#John price x reader#captain John price x male reader#cod#cod x Reader#cod x male Reader#Alec writes#idc if there are any mistakes Iâve been editing this for so long Iâm so tired of it fjdjfjfjf#anyway
468 notes
¡
View notes
Text
reading thru the The Final utsuro fight visuals with the vocabulary i gained while liveblogging gintama
[VD: the section of the fight that has gintoki and utsuro-in-takasugi's-body slide through reanimated flashbacks to past scenes of the series that cast them as past versions of themselves, shouyou, and takasugi]
bc the maths is insanes
the initial flashback is to their immediately previous silver soul fight - the casting of the conflict as unending, progressless, in utsuro's favor. have either of them appreciably changed since then? is anything different? what is initially an incomplete brief flash - with utsuro still inhabiting takasugi - solidifies when he regresses to his original body and begins to more effectively counter gintoki. utsuro remains on the right throughout.
direct cut from there pulled further back in time to gintoki's immediately previous fight with takasugi's body in shogun assassination - takasugi on the right, giving utsuro in his body the power of Unconscionable Violence (senseless, gleeful, and knowing you well enough to perpetrate it) (joelletwo tags on squeaky toy video, 2023, repeated endlessly every day since)
but it's mutual - gintoki also knows you well enough to turn the tables and get the upper hand back
(not that this meaningfully stops you for long).
direct cut from there slightly forward in time to gintoki's first fight with utsuro in the immediately following farewell shinsengumi, where the revelations overwhelm him and reduce him to being fueled by the pure instinctual anger of The Demonic, a state of losing yourself and your ability to fight effectively (reductionisms, 2023),
conditions where it's all you can do to hold out against an enemy that represents something so big in your psyche,
which he knows about, since he's been that for you before. back in time again to the first (onscreen) takasugi confrontation, right before taking advantage of your precarious mental state to punch you out of the plotline (kraniumet tags on yamameta post addition, 2022)
but utsuro keeps a vice grip on control of the story, surfacing back into the present to stop and reverse his fall mid-air so he can stay anchored in the battle with gintoki,
meaning he remains vulnerable to the weaknesses of the body he's in, which only ever exists anymore in one memory - you're unable to move, only to witness. a third figure is introduced, who is more you than you here, while gintoki remains himself.
the you more you than you accepts death while you watch it approach with helpless despair and terror.
the collapse of utsuro back into the body he inhabits in present invites a re-examining of the series of flashbacks thus far - where the perspective of who controls the focal memory seems to flip from utsuro to gintoki back to utsuro here, does it? the farewell shins->festival transition is 1:1 substitutional, working out so that utsuro-as-takasugi winds back up on the right.
but it isn't utsuro borrowing a strength of his like Violence here - it's, just like in the execution, succumbing to one of his weaknesses. flipping between the two scenes, takasugi's derailing fear of gintoki as a figure becomes gintoki's of utsuro. there's a double elision of takasugi (missing from farewell shins due to his fight with gintoki) so that utsuro becomes both gintokis - making him both the one who looms large, and the one who is destabilized by.
gintoki signifies something huge to utsuro, after all.
he takes up the role he had back then, the one you assigned him from the start, because half of his time always exists in that one moment now as well.
being the one who acts on the story and moves it forward, brings it to an end.
the regression through history continues to child against unbeatable teacher, again the question of if either of you has grown since you met. gintoki becomes the underdog challenger on the right.
the refusal to give up an unwinnable fight, no matter how many times it's tried, the even-back-then way that gintoki becomes a shouyou figure for others, fluidly shifts you forward in time.
the reverse shot, the perspective flip - the identity lines cross.
he drags you through time with him, until you're someone he knows how to beat.
(because, again, you know each other so well as to be losslessly interchangeable, for two opposing souls in the process of finding themselves - conquering themselves - to become indivisible.) (reductionisms translation, 2024) (yamameta ouroboros poem, 2023)
and even when you win - earn by ceaseless trial and effort the right to play his trick back on him and dethrone/defang him by pushing him literally out of frame - ...
he learns from you as well and pulls himself back in by your anchor.
#gintama#sopping wet gintoki posting#undescribed#borrowing the power of gay love to beat ur dad......................... i guess#the kind of thing i could ramble on abt for 5 million words trying to untangle everything i think about. the connections here..............#but i limit myself kjsdfg so i can come back and use this as a reference for my own confusion lol. this sequence. makes me ILL#videos#art tag
71 notes
¡
View notes