#he is so ocd
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RIP George Mukherjee you would've loved pastel highlighters and revision timetables written in pastel purple pen and preppy pastel folders with matching dividers. Meanwhile Alexander has 'do revision?' written on his hand in smudged pen.
#George would take 90 minutes to make that timetable because it would have to be perfect#he is so ocd#murder most unladylike#mmu#george mukherjee#alexander arcady
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Double Date - Double Down
NSFW | MDNI
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader
Word count: 4.9k
Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.
A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.
“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.
Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“
“How do you know I’m free?”
“You just said you were!”
You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.
“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“
“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”
You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”
“Johnny’s friend will probably-“
“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”
“He won’t-“
“We got a deal?”
She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”
At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.
The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.
“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.
You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…
Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.
“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.
You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.
“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.
You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.
All in all, wayyyy out of your league.
He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”
You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.
“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.
Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.
He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”
“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.
“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.
“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”
Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.
You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.
“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.
She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”
In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.
“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”
He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”
“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”
His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”
You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”
“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”
You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”
He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”
Oh.
*Oh*.
You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”
He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”
Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.
“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”
“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?
“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”
You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.
“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”
“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.
He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.
“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.
“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”
“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.
Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.
“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.
He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”
“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”
“Yeah?”
“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”
“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.
The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?
“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.
“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”
Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”
“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”
“Apparently.”
His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.
Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.
“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.
“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.
You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.
His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.
“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.
Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”
“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”
He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”
“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”
“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.
“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”
“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”
“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”
“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”
“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.
“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.
How convenient.
“Okay.” You whisper.
After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.
At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.
It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”
“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.
Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.
“Simon!”
“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.
“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.
“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.
You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.
That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”
You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”
“Say it back, doll.”
“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.
“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.
You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”
Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.
“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.
His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”
Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.
Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”
“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.
“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.
“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.
He freezes, looking up at you.
“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“
Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”
All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.
“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.
“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.
“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.
“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”
The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.
“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.
Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”
Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”
“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.
You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.
“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.
“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.
Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-
“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.
Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”
“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.
Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.
For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.
“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.
You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.
“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.
You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.
“Good.”
It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.
You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.
Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.
When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.
“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.
Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”
“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.
He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.
It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.
By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.
Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”
“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.
You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”
“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.
“Are you a psycho?”
“Not generally, no.”
“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.
Simon just scoffs at you.
You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.
You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”
Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.
“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?
You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”
#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#ghost x reader#plus size reader#fat reader#reader insert#simon riley x you#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x you#smut#cod smut#reader insert smut#one shot#Ghost with OCD is my roman empire#he’s so much more well adjusted than I usually write him but it was fun#holly writes
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A belief in Nominative Determinsim
#mira & isa sitting at the other side of the room: oh that cannot be a healthy rationalisation. someone should deconstruct that QUICKLY...#change's strongest soldiers VERSUS one guy echo chambering themselves about a susperstition-based retributive model of the world. GO!!!#isat spoilers#isat#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat loop#sifloop#sloops#in stars and time#in stars and time fanart#lucabyteart#hey look now. this is softer than usual isnt it? ignore the. ignore the subtle damnation of blame unto the self. its fine. theyre fine#this is in fact a slight adaptation of that headcanon of mine i linked! yep! turns out the way to comic-ise it was to. make it like#90% speech bubble and get kinda weird with the formatting. it's clunky and experimental but hey. im experimenting.#the next ones gonna have even more fucking speech bubbles if it goes how im planning. christ#then its gonna get followed up with something wordless so. all things in perfect balance.#DISCLAIMER: i like to write loop and siffrin displaying the maybe not so great logic-holes their seeming fear of 'retribution for not#sticking to (the script) what the universe intends for them' entails. i do not agree with their weird philosophising.#i in fact think this is . bad for them. and am exploring how fucking unhealthy their mindset seems to be even when 'mundane'#OCD siffrin real as hell whats with the doing arbitrary actions in specific ways lest Something Nebulously Bad Happen little dude?#anyway if you caught the extremely blunt symbolism of kissing a hand with a knife in it you win a prize! it's called self-satisfaction 🎉🎉#hmm. do people realise i kept calling this type of back and forth between siffrin and loop a socratic dialogue bc socrates was also just#arguing with himself? like he was just making up the other guys. complete thought experiment. i also call them that because theyre WORDY!!!
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unpopular opinion apparently but I don’t think it would be very hard for anybody disconnected and sheltered enough to be light yagami. look at the comments under any video detailing a violent crime - child molestation, sexual abuse, brutal murder, etc. it’s literally vigilante logic. light was just seventeen and grew up around constant news broadcasts dictating that kind of thing (and probably online if his quick knowledge of the kira cult means anything - he’s probably been on forums like that before). like yeah sure, light’s dad was a cop and he was heading down that route anyway, but he was also a kid. a kid who had the chance to change.
#I see light as having heavily repressed depression anyway#(as well as my ocd and autism headcanons obviously. this boy can fit so much mental illness in him)#in the modern world he’d be one of the kids who’d bury himself in the internet because he feels so stifled in reality#but he’d never dare admit it#death note#yagami light#light yagami#csa mention#sa mention
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Ball of anxiety new summon ifrit and known grumpy old man alpha that omega has to warn and plead with not to scare the new fire ghoul too bad, to try and be patient with him
And everyone watching and waiting with baited breath for ifrit to crumble and run to hide because alpha was too callous while teaching him how to play guitar
But the surprise when ifrit is always smiling when he leaves, and so is alpha. And maybe omega just has to peek in sometimes to be sure but alpha is soft spoken and gentle while he shows ifrit the correct hand placements, smiling and praising him when he gets it right. A side of him omegas never seen besides when he’s with him.
Softie alpha (:
#thinking about softie alpha today#also anxiety ifrit#ily ocd ifrit#he’s so special to me#the band ghost#ghost#nameless ghouls#ghost bc#alpha ghoul#ifrit ghoul
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In one of my older Judgement Boy posts someone left the tag "Oh this guy has DID for sure" and at the time it was not intentional but *grits teeth really hard* now it is. Don't worry about it.
#*punches my bathroom mirror*#gregory horror show#judgement boy#beebfreeb art tag#I have to admit I don't think he would know how to deal with it even a little bit and also his perception of it would be. Mmm.#Well I think he died in the late 80s or so. Also he has other issues.#Those issues (in my interpretation) being primarily OCD and religious/moral obsessions#judgement royale
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very small detail in mystery spot… but the very first tuesday sam goes to brush his teeth and there’s toothpaste like all over the tube and it’s mostly empty. and he looks at dean like “seriously?” and dean shrugs. then after dean dies, during the montage of sam living alone on his revenge mission, there’s a shot of him brushing his teeth and the toothpaste tube is clean. the trunk is organized, the photos on the wall are lined up, the guns are spotless, the bed is made. the toothpaste tube is clean. dean was always the one who made the motel room a home, made it messy, made it lived in. there’s no mess. there’s no dean. sam doesn’t know how to do that. he’s never needed to. maybe never even noticed that’s what dean was doing; he was too busy complaining about his dirty clothes being everywhere.
it is so extremely codependent how sam’s ocd behaviours spike when dean is gone. like dean is his emotional support animal. “we keep each other human” in a very non-supernatural way. sam can only function on a normal level if he knows dean is ok. no one and nothing can drag sam out of that spiral other than dean, because there’s no reason to get out of the spiral if dean isn’t there. sam calls dean selfish for making the deal not because sam wouldn’t do the same thing, but because the prospect of living without dean is hell to him.
#UAGH and then at the end he looks at the two unmade beds#he is so mentally unwell#the codependency brothers <3#that isn’t rlly how ocd works but go with it#it drives me so crazy how it seems like sam doesn’t even tell him…#he doesn’t want to have dean worry about him#when he just needs to focus on making sure dean doesn’t die#samdean#obsessive sam#mars.txt#liveblogging from mars#s3#psychotically irrationally erotically
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Oops. It's a second headcanon compilation!
Don't worry, the next one will be back to our normal schedule of regular text posts and not headcanons
Masterpost
#Dark Meta Knight#Shadow Kirby#Meta Knight#Kirby#King Dedede#Daroach#marx kirby#Magolor#Bandana Waddle Dee#Bandana Dee#Marx#Kirby series#kirby headcanons#text post meme#text post memes#disability headcanon#okay I wanted a particularly exhausted Dedede so I snagged him from triple deluxe#i just think Dedede would have chronic pain from. you know. getting torn in half that one time#before you come after me for Magolor's panel: I do not think ocd and intrusive thoughts make you do bad things#I just think he already had it and the Master Crown made it worse (via lingering magic from the possession)#i dunno how mental illnesses work in aliens that use magitech#I had a lot more here but I decided I'm not going to continue rambling in the tags#I can expand on any of these headcanons at any moment if you want feel free to ask#also I saved that Kirby one for last because I thought it would hit with oomph#she speks#she speks originale#she edits#yes I'm working on the masquerade I am just obsessed with making text post memes
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given Sunday's canonical ocd, it is unknown if he was taking medication for it or not- but if he got the diagnosis as a child, there's a high possibility that that awful man medicated Sunday which just made it easier for him (G. Wood). ocd meds make you numb, apathetic, not like yourself one bit, lacking passions in life or excitement for anything, basically a shell of a human being (+ they're usually given with antidepressants).
to put it in perspective after the livestream; Sunday may be off his meds and finally learning how to live again, how to feel again and who he is on a another level.
#there's nothing wrong with not being medicated btw.#i can make more comments/notes on this but i just woke up so hmu if u want more#writer notes once more#sunday#hsr#honkai star rail#analysis#and if anyone wonders about my creds; i have ocd#ive been on meds for a period of time#im a medical professional#so i can openly make these “statements”#(easier for g. wood#means easier to take advantage of him#which he sadly did)#mental health awareness#ocd
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james sirius potter!!
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he acts like a cool guy but he's 100% embarrassed himself a trillion times in front of alice
#james sirius potter how i adore you#james sirius potter with generalized anxiety disorder you will always be relatable 💔#or ocd#he has golden boy syndrome but he's actually so stressed#also he's a chaser like his mom too!! he doesnt just take after his grandad#i wanted to include that but there wasnt much space and i felt like i needed to cater to tiktok's marauder fans#harry potter#harry potter and the cursed child#hp#cursed child#hpcc#the cursed child#hp next gen#harry potter next generation#harry potter next gen#harry potter series#james sirius potter#james potter#jalice...my beloved...#gryffindor#alice longbottom#alice longbottom II#alice longbottom junior#headcanon#headcanons#character headcanons#my hcs#head canon#hcs#my headcanons
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while i was away i picked a new show to try at random and oh gosh...Mr. Adrian Monk 🫠💖🫠💖 he is just so wonderful. one of the prettiest smiles i've ever seen. you could just drown in those eyes 🙈✨
#it is so so gratifying to find interesting and relatable depictions of neurodivergence trauma disorders and OCD#i was genuinely getting so choked up even at the first episode and imprinted onto him like a duckling#this sweet man gets absolutely tortured in this show and deserves none of it but OH. it is so so gratifying to see him WIN 🔥🔥🔥#he's so shy and sensitive but it's that undercurrent of (totally deserved) righteous arrogance that makes him a winner for me dfgfdsf#absolutely adore him. i would love to hold his hand (if he would allow it - i'm okay with using gloves) 😭💖💖#adrian monk#monk#mr monk#tony shalhoub#starleskatalks
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listen I honestly think wilson really enjoyed that little arc where he was cooking every single one of house’s meals. I know he’s house’s main source of food anyway but usually just via ‘stolen’/bought lunch at work. I’m talking about when they lived together in season 2 and his ass made macadamia nut pancakes for breakfast on a WEEKDAY. and pot roast for dinner. so much effort and for what…because house was gobbling that shit up…? yes he complained about it every time but he also had an extra fork on hand when house came home to stuffed peppers. it feeds into his need to be needed complex. the intimate dependency of someone relying on you for sustenance. also why they used food as the metaphor for why house was craving his presence. this is what I mean when I say that wilson deserved a housewife era. house went stir crazy within like 12 seconds of doing all their chores because he requires Stimulation™️ but I’m completely convinced that it would act as enrichment for wilson. if I told him to go make me a sandwich he’d roll his eyes and then passive aggressively make a delicious one. actually that literally happened in son of a coma guy. case closed
#that scene where house finally let him indoors after sitting on the porch for several hours#and wilson is like that’s so mean why did you do that :(#also you didn’t even do the dishes…#n house responds like doooont care. what’s for dinner#& wilson just accepts it 💀#cmon I know he’s a pushover but he’s not THAT big of a pushover#he likes it#I honestly think that when they were roomates in s6#house would feign incompetence surrounding domestic tasks#like ‘oh my leg hurts I can’t fix the sink’#not for his own benefit#but because wilson is 1. canonically a little ocd (I say this as someone with ocd) about shit around the home#and 2. thrives off of feeling useful#hilson would’ve survived mac and dennis move to the suburbs#house md#greg house#gregory house#hilson#house/wilson#james wilson#hatecrimes md
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every time i see someone trying to label specifically what tony’s mental health situation is or isn’t i pour one out for natasha romanoff who entered the ring at the worst possible moment (he’s dying he’s got heavy metal poisoning he’s actively lying to everyone around him he’s very recently traumatized) under orders from her boss to decide, definitely, on paper what mentally is going on with this man. like girl you are not qualified
#kayvswords#tbd#‘Tony said he doesn’t have ptsd’ that’s ok. Tony says a lot of things <3#does tony have adhd? possible. ocd? possible. anxiety? oh for sure. is he a narcissist?#I’ve seen compelling arguments for it I think we’re all right probably the answer is It’s Loud In There#this isn’t like. I have no thoughts on this I just like it when people have tony stark mental health headcanons#like yeah you’re right he is depressed that’s so true. he does have your specific thing you’re right. arguable. very possible#Guy who visibly absolutely has a lot happening in there solidarity#everyone telling me he’s autistic YEAH correct true. yeah
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Saiki K was low-key OCD representation
#like the way saiki navigates daily life#with all the little things he needs to do#and how it accumulates#but is ultimately normal for him and his routine#and how he feels so much responsibility and guilt#because of how much control he#/thinks/#he has over his and his friends circumstances#soo ocd#someone analyse the show for me#also the ridiculousness of the situations he’d get into#and how he gets out of them#it’s comedy anime logic#but anyone w ocd will know ocd logic#is similarly ridiculous 😭😭#saiki k#kusuo saiki#the disastrous life of saiki k.#the disastrous life of saiki k#saiki no psi nan#quite spam
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the viago-crow rook dynamic makes me crazy i fear!!! the found family!!!! the layers!!! the care of it all!!!! the 'i am afraid of losing my protégé who I've come to regard as family but I don't exactly know how to convey that so I have to be stern toward them, remind them not to abandon their contract, so they aren't eaten up by the antivan crows like I know the organization can do and has done time and time again' i am literally rambling rn but i could write a whole essay i fear
#i could be reading into this too much of course but from the scraps i've been fed i am literally going nuts the found family dynamic#but this is how it will be in my canon at least LOL#viago i see you. acting all stern and tough and talonlike but you're actually worried sick about rook.#will go apeshit if anything happens to his found family!!! i see you king#also another tangent but as an ocd haver myself Mr Viago De Riva I have news for you. but i'll save that for another day#I just know he's out here pacing back and forth w worry thinking of every possibility#“rook didn't bring my 30 antidotes for every possible poison in thedas”#“maker... its so over actually”#teia just watching viago try to deny ever being worried like. i know what you are (Rook's found family)#she can read that man like a book.#veilguard spoilers#dragon age veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#viago de riva#teia cantori#rook de riva#ibon.txt#bonus points actually if this is why viago and teia help rook in the fight directly if I see that trailer moment correctly#not only because the world is at stake but also because viago feels like he has to personally step in to make sure all is well#but then again everyone's canon is different lol this one's just how I interpret it for my world state
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AND I MET THE CHANGE GOD TOO. OKAY. COOL OKAY
#I WASNT EVEN MEANING TO SO I ACCIDENTALLY SKIPPED THE DIALOGUE BEFORE I KNEW WHAT WAS HAPPENING FUCK#ill go and find it later if only to give myself peace of mind. BUT WOW. WHAT THE FUCK#my original plan was to 1) work my way to the king and talk to him 2) doom myself and take everyone down with me 3) loop back to floor 3#so i can visit the observatory and scrounge for any lore. although since i got killed that run siffrin asked the king to kill him first#which was intereresting. but i decided to have all doors unlocked that time around so i can just get the starcrest and go#but for some reason it wasnt working so i went to get the keyknife since i was already there and completely forgot i already had it#from the previous loop and THATS what triggered it. IT WAS FUNNY BUT ALSO SCARY BUT ALSO I THINK I GET WHAT THEY MEAN#about siffrin going back without actually changing. going along with a script even if his feelings on things change#the same way he has his own small rituals like the carving thing and does it for constancy. reassurance or safety even#and the times when he breaks script and ends horribly like the sadness attacking thing and bonnie yelling at him cause him to loop#to avoid it. although i cant really say anything bc id probably do the same thing. maybe not for the same reasons since im cruel#and make him do the worst to see what will happen since i put curiosity over rejection sensitivity as an observer and player but well.#i feel wrongfooted bringing it up since i dont have it myself but i have to wonder if this kind of leans into ocd tendencies.. i remember#reading something about how ocd is fuelled by fear. and things like counting and rituals are kind of used to cope with that?#if anyone knows anything more or talked abt it already id be really interested in hearing it bc im almost sure im not#the first to come to this conclusion. but i simply dont know enough nor have the confidence to broach the topic rn esp with how often#misconceptions around ocd get casually passed around so its hard for me to know what is and isnt a baseless assumption#puppy plays isat#in stars and time#isat#playthru#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#isat act 3 spoilers#change god#WHAT WAS THAT WITH WEARING LOOPS FACE THOUGH WHAT THE FUCKKK
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