#i have the capability to get all these things but do i have the strength to leave the house?
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lower your inhibitions
lower your inhibitions ; simon “ghost” riley.
You love Simon, you really do.
How could you not? How could you not fall for him? He’s the one who rescued you from a fate worse than death, the one who washes your body for you even though the both of you know that you’re fully capable of showering alone (he loves you so much, he’s constantly craving to touch you in any way he can), the one who took apart one of his honorary medals for his services and melted it down so it could be manipulated and turned into the band on your engagement ring.
(Did you know that the medal he used is the one he got from the mission where you two first met, the fateful mission where he both saved and changed your whole entire life?)
And you know that Simon would do absolutely anything for you. He whispers it to you in the dead of night, holding you so close to his chest like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. He lets you be the one who removes his mask, and if he can do something so intimately vulnerable, then you suppose you can do this for him.
This is giving into one of his latest fantasies, one that he’s been hinting at for quite some time now.
You know that his line of work is difficult at best and life-threatening all the time. You know that he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders — it’s not just his weaponry and equipment that weighs him down, but the fact that so many lives are resting in his hands. You do your best to relieve him of any stress when he gets home: a warm meal waiting for him, fresh clothes set out for him to change into, long nights where you spend all your time and energy determined to give him the reward he deserves for being a hero.
He mentions it in passing, usually when you’re so far gone in the throes of pleasure that you don’t even consciously acknowledge his little comments. Sneaky bastard; he’s been making sure it stays ingrained in your subconscious, though.
Baby, I could spend forever here. You’re certain that’s what he was groaning out the last time you had spread your legs for him and allowed him to eagerly lap at your pussy. You’re not entirely too sure, though — the only thing you can clearly remember through the foggy haze of intense passion was the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his mouth and bringing you to climax on his tongue at least twice that night.
You can only imagine what he must have planned for you tonight.
You’re sure that Simon has an insane amount of stamina as a result of his work. The only thing keeping you, his little soon-to-be housewife, still alive from all of these little entanglements is the fact that you love him enough to do anything he asks of you. So when he tells you that the only thing that’ll help him take his mind off of his latest assignment is to have you sitting on his face, you oblige.
According to him, this is a foolproof plan because only an idiot would be thinking about something else when he’s got the prettiest pussy in the world on top of him.
You could feel your face heating up at his vulgar compliment, but you’re not entirely innocent. The heat was building up towards the lower half of your body after that comment, too.
And now you find yourself nervously straddling your fiance, looking into his eyes.
“You know where you need to be, pretty girl,” His voice is already thick with arousal, and you recognize that hungry glint in his eyes. You pray to anyone out there who’s listening to pretty please give you the strength to survive tonight.
“B-but Simon—” You’re whispering, even though this house is the only residence in the area. (Thank God for that; if the two of you had neighbors, they surely would have filed a noise complaint.)
“Yes, my love?” You can recognize the teasing tone in his voice, and you can hear the smirk he must be wearing on his face.
“How am I supposed to… You know, get on your face and let you do what you want when your mask is still on?”
His infamous balaclava with the skull design etched onto the fabric seems to taunt you. It doesn’t scare you, especially since you’re well aware of who the man behind the mask truly is, but you can’t quite figure out why he hasn’t taken it off yet.
“Oh. I didn’t tell you yet?” He has to be smiling underneath the mask because your reaction to his next words is enough to have him chuckling.
“I’m not eating you out ‘til you’re so wet for me that I can feel you dripping through the mask.”
You immediately freeze up, wondering if he truly means what he just said.
(It’s Simon; of course, he meant every word of it.)
“Sweetheart, I thought you were going to be a good girl for me tonight.” The disapproval he douses his words with isn’t real — you know he’s just trying to tease you because it’s what he loves to do. Still, you find yourself nodding your head and slowly but surely making your way up his resting body before you find yourself hovering uncertainly above his face.
You let out an adorable little yelp of surprise as he suddenly grips the back of your thighs and forces you down on his mask-covered face. For a man his size, the strength isn’t surprising, but it’s his stealth and dexterity that always catches you off guard.
“Can’t wait to taste you.” His voice sounds muffled now due to the pressure being applied to his mouth, and you can feel the slight movements of his mouth despite the thick fabric of his balaclava acting as a barrier between you and him. His eyes are already deepening with desire, and you swallow hard, knowing that it’ll please him if you truly give it your all. You’ve known him for what feels like forever, and you’re engaged to the man. There’s no more room for shyness to take root in this relationship.
It’s time for you to lower your inhibitions.
Your first movements are a bit uncertain, but his groan of appreciation acts as reassurance. You move back and forth slowly, carefully grinding against the mask, and occasionally, your clit will brush against the covered tip of his nose, only adding to your pleasure and allowing you to give into your depravity without worry.
“Just like that, love. You’re doing so well for me.” You can barely make out the words he’s saying, but you give him a shaky smile as you continue to grind against him, your hands finding purchase on the pillow he’s resting his head on. You grip it, trying to hold yourself steady as you continue to buck against him, your arousal practically leaking out of you, a constant stream of juices that is soaking through the fabric, leaving a distinct wet stain on the front of it.
Simon grins at a mission successfully accomplished. Not only can he feel your arousal through the mask, but you’re so soaked for him that he’s certain he can taste you already, too.
One strong hand grips your waist, pausing your jerky movements, and you look down, blinking and trying to ground yourself into reality. You watch as he uses his other hand to tear off the balaclava, tossing it somewhere on the floor of your shared bedroom.
His chin and lips are already shining just the slightest — just how wet for him are you? He gives you a cheeky grin, and you’re still so close to him that when he speaks, his lips brush against your slick folds.
“Don’t stop now, darling. You promised you’d sit on my face.”
He’s so close to helping you get rid of the ache in between your legs, and you find yourself lowering yourself fully, your soft thighs encasing his head, and your soaking cunt landing right on his mouth. You’re already leaking all the way down to his chin, and his groans of pleasure only serve to make you even wetter.
He can’t speak right now; not when he’s too occupied with the meal you’ve so generously decided to grace him with. The room is filled with the obscene sounds of him lapping up everything you’re spilling out.
His tongue slides through your entrance with ease, and you moan in ecstasy, throwing your head back as you start to instinctually buck against his face, practically riding his tongue.
He’s sucking up your arousal, eager to please you but also insanely happy at the position he’s finally in. This is exactly what he needed: pure, unadulterated access to your pussy. Your thighs are surrounding him, and he uses both hands to squeeze harshly at your ass. The slight pain only makes you squeal and jerk up just the slightest, but he growls before forcing you back down on his face, right where you belong.
The ministrations of his tongue are entirely too much. The noises the two of you are making sounds as if the two of you are filming a porno, and you know you can’t last much longer.
Using both of your hands, your fingers curl into the thick locks of his hair, tugging just enough to him groan against your pussy, and you mewl out his name as you cum all over his face.
Your body feels like jelly; this isn’t the first time that Simon has fucked you boneless before, but this orgasm was intense. You think you can still feel some aftershocks of it, and you moan out weakly as you struggle to remain in your seated position on his face.
He’s still lapping everything up, his tongue still exploring every centimeter of yourself you have to offer him. After that climax, your poor pussy is feeling too sensitive, and every time he slightly moves his head, his nose continues to bump against your clit. You’re ultra-aware of every movement of his, extra susceptible to every flick of his tongue and the pleasure is only painfully heightened. You’re too weak to fight him off and while giving in will surely leave you unable to leave the bed all day tomorrow, you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop.
“Si-mon.” You whine out his name, but it comes out garbled and broken. Your mind doesn’t know how to react to the constant pleasure he’s inflicting on you and your sensitive little cunt. Your body, though, is eager to receive more of what he has to offer. It’s evident in the way your hole starts to clench around nothing every time he teasingly withdraws his tongue to force you to beg him for more. Even though you feel like you’re unable to move, you still find enough strength left in you to grind against him, rubbing your pussy and spreading your slick all over his face before you cum once again, this one leaving you all the more disorientated.
His visage is a sight to behold: cheeks are flushed red, eyes wild and dark with desire, the lower half of his face stained with your cum and arousal. You should be embarrassed at what a mess you’ve made of your fiance, but he only licks his lips. His eyes almost roll back as he realizes the taste of you will forever be on his tastebuds.
“Taste so good, love.” He gasps out. His hair is messy from the way you’ve shamelessly tugged at his locks. “I need more. You gonna give it to me?”
You’re nodding, but he doesn’t even wait for your affirmation before forcing you down onto his mouth once again.
He wasn’t lying when he made the claim that he could live in between your legs forever. After tonight, you know you’re never going to deny him the chance to prove it, though.
comment if you want your @ in heree
#call of duty#cod mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost smut#ghost cod#cod smut#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon riley smut#cod
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Shimmer is fascinating to me, and I think very analogous to the drugs we think of as dangerous. In S1 Ep 6, when that small brown-haired man (once seen in a flashback w/ Vander) brings Cait to the "doctor" in the deepest part of the undercity, we see that he's a victim of Shimmer abuse.
Cait asked him about it: "Why would you take something that does that to you?"
He replies: "I just… wanted to feel what it was like… To be somebody. To make other people afraid. Instead of…"
in his flasback in Ep 1, he's seen as a small and weak guy, to the point where someone tries to take advantage of him and not pay him his full due, until Vander steps in to help.
The effect in combat is obvious: it boosts pain tolerance, energy, endurance, speed, strength, and savagery. It makes people strong and capable. And in the undercity/Lanes/Zaun, violence and desperation are normal. And anything that gives you an edge, even temporary, is going to be tempting to use--especially when you don't expect to live long in the first place.
But yeah, we see plenty of medical use for it. Shimmer keeps Viktor alive as he merges with the Hexcore. Shimmer kept Vander alive and made him able to save Vi/fight a bit more after he got stabbed and thrown off the catwalk. Shimmer saved Vi's life in the deepest part of the Lanes, and affected her system by making her heal from a stab wound much faster than normal. Shimmer saved Jinx's life too! Shimmer is the fuel that powers Sevika's mechanical arm. This isn't confirmed, but it wouldn't surprise me if the green tubes in Renni's nose contain a Shimmer variant (when one of her tubes is ripped away during the battle in S2, it noticeably affects her) of which she needs a constant infusion to stay alive and moving.
Jinx is changed by her use of it, but Vi and Viktor are not "permanently" affected by their use of it, so the dose and frequency of use matters.
So to me, this reads as: methamphetamines.
Stimulants like meth are very useful. The main effect behind meth is energy--which in turn can boost speed, strength, pain tolerance, endurance. People on meth feel invulnerable and powerful. They don't need to sleep. They can start and finish projects. They can get by without eating much. The popular image of "meth users" in anti-drug campaigns shows people with scars on their faces (usually from picking at their skin or having poor hygiene), bad or missing teeth, disheveled hair, and low body fat. But there's just as many, or even more, people who do meth and other stimulants that fall in the category of working moms, people with ADHD, people with depression or, chronic low energy, physical laborers, doctors and finance bros and artists and tinkerers. It's very possible that you know a meth/stimulant user that's hiding in plain sight. And caffeine is a stimulant, so you can argue that we've structured societies to DEPEND on stimulant use to some degree, and it's all a matter of dosage/need/application. This category of drugs is definitely physiologically addictive, but also--people keep going back because the [temporary] benefits are undeniable and desirable.
The extremes are always more interesting for a story, and Silco is a villain for using high doses/amounts of Shimmer to essentially create an army out of the most desperate. But Shimmer is so much greyer than that, and "all drugs bad always" is an incomplete view of things
liking silco as a character is so painful because most people don't even understand him, even those who claim to like him don't so much of the time like even the very basics of his character that he is not selling drugs because he is a drug lord and that was his life ambition but he is selling drugs to gain control and political power over Zaun and the smaller groups within it in order to achieve his ultimate goal of independence and yet this concept seems to be way too difficult for people to understand plus to a smaller degree the whole claiming he is "doing drugs" (as in a recreational manner) in the context of using shimmer is so annoying to me when shimmer was clearly established to have medical properties like I know the writing gets chunky at times but some people are also just genuinely too dumb to be trying to analyze anything more complex than "good guys vs. bad guys" lolllll
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some of you would crumble in this situation
#oooohhh i'm some of you#food#alcohol#damn some crusty bread and cheese and white wine sounds good rn#i have the capability to get all these things but do i have the strength to leave the house?#i think not
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My headcanons for the named trio in The Cursing of Chateau Castle series:
Josephandre is a big bear. It just fits for him I think! He gets he/him pronouns, and as a way to make him a liiiil more relatable for Mira, he'd have two craft types (Rock type being his main one and paper craft for the other). Battle style wise, I think it fits him to be more of a self-sustaining tank. He buffs defense, heals, and puts up shields. For his weapon, he'd use his fists like Isabeau. He'll be the second fastest in the trio.
Lady Irene-Janine-Kanine looks like an elegant noblewoman on the outside but she has vibes similar to Euphrasie! She gets she/her pronouns. Her craft type is Paper. Battle style wise, she's more on the offensive side, a main dps kind of thing. Most of her skills focus on buffing attack and speed, she'd have an item that helps regen her hp a lil bit and her chosen weapon is an umbrella. The tip is a sharp blade so it's used like a spear that has a hidden sword in its handle. Open it, and it becomes a shield! That'd be one of her skills too, although it's only applicable to her. She's the fastest one of the trio.
Pierre-Jacques-Erneste looks like a nobleman and carries himself as such! He gets he/they pronouns. Their craft type is Scissors. Battle style wise, he's more of a debuffer, skills focusing on weakening the enemies, slowing them down, poisoning them. Their weapon is a sword dagger, though he doesn't seem to be able to handle it well, how clumsy! But he Is a nobleman so it makes sense! Oh but... why doesn't he have a title? They're the slowest one of the trio, how strange, he seemed to be faster than Lady Irene-Janine-Karine that one time though.
#aria rants#how do i even tag these things bro im like-- why am i such a fan of a fragmented series in isat#okay so-- josephandre relied mostly on raw strength when he was travelling all alone before meeting the others#and i think he'd have a fun uncle vibe to him. which makes it easy for others to approach him and befriend him#but he Also carries a sort of pride and dignity to him which makes the others mistake him for a nobleman cuz of it#esp considering the fact that he later became famous for helping those in need and such.#lady irene on the other hand. being a noble she's always had to keep her guard up. also doesnt help that noblewomen#got the short end of the stick what with the ''arrange marriage'' things and being below noblemen#her umbrella weapon helps a lot in warding off the assholes. i think that during the journey with josephandre's party#she got to finally be herself without needing to sugarcoat her words in a way that a noble should. she would also figure out a#way to improve on her shield spell to not only apply to just her but her entire party too. she cares a lot about them after all#meanwhile i got a Whole scenario for pierre (being an illegitimate child of a noble family and all that. i made a post bout it)#he's actually a lot more capable than what he makes himself appear as. but its like part of the plan on getting the others#to lower their guards around him for when pierre betrays them. in actuality pierre is actually faster than irene altho#not much stronger still (irene and josephandre are still stronger than him) considering that pierre mainly focused on#stealth type attacks. hes more used to using a sword than a dagger (he mightve wanted to prove their worth)#it makes their battle style and weapon clash due to the fact that swords arent that good for stealth much than a dagger#its one of the reasons why hes trying to get used to the dagger than the sword. but it is a bit difficult to learn a new weapon
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Honestly i really do know im being annoying with this but the logistics of swapping out Avon and Raistlin and watching what theh do is the greatest form of Playing With Dolls I've ever ever had. Its a serotonin treadmill. You've heard of watching a brilliant, dark tortured genius asshole slowly create his own downfall what about landing in the middle of such a slipperyslope and starting to turn it into an entirely different one. AND THERE'S PVP ALLOWED, one of my main options rn is Avon-as-Raistlin starts planning how to re-open the connection and either undo this or pass some more things between the worlds- and Raistlin-as-Avon is like FINDERS KEEPERS BITCH. Paying It (The Lichdom Curse) Forewards, im staying in your life and im winning at it, fuck off. And Avon's like, ex-fucking-scuse me?
#what if. in this route avon is repoening the connection through magic raist-as-avon is gonna start regaining the capscity for magic too.#and it can be a Metaphysical Wizard Duel AND like an emotional climax whhen their parties catch up#and like. avon coming back for his friends carried on a storm. the fact that despite dverything he would fight for it-#even if hes doing it for an Incredibly Specific Way he wants to benefit power from merging both worlds that STILL a level of#coming back for his friends and lives and such yknow. its gonna affect them.#and raistlin possibly seeing caramon again-#i dont think avon would be as desperate to strike out on his own thats a raist psychological thing-#and maybe trying to appeal through the barrier like. hey! if you want what's good for me. GET HIS ASS. I want to stay here!#and that classic kind of tension between them. caramon wanrs his brother back and raistlin thinking of it as caramon wanting him Weak#and Dependant on his protection. the whole aspect of like body and strength swap is very. interesting and a bit#yuck politically but thats part of the fun. this isnt a cure narrative this is game of thrines musical chairs over resources-#the bodies the magic the many differences in Circumstances that seperate the two wars-#not just genre but straight up strategical details. the privileges of space age comforts vs having an almost even chance at victory. etc et#YOU SEE ME. IM HAVING FUNNNNN#THIS IS SO FUN. IT SHOULD BE A NOVELLA LENGTH ZINE FROM THE 90S UNFORTUNATELY ITS JUST ME IN MY HEAD. BUT#cally can probably sense something is wrong from the start. mentally....#the grudging respect raist would have for blake vs unlike avon he is entirely capable of backstabbing the hell out of them all.#avon would find the Expanded DL Party loud and weirdly social and annoying and pass off as raist through that easily#but also just. as i said i think he's way less likely to actually Act to further only himself like raist would#especially as Not Native to this setting like. no use aloanating possible resources. hes just gonna steer them All As A Group towards#paths of survival and advantage in the war that are Also to his personal magic based benefits i think#im having FUN#yknow what i might make this my Pinned. im Going Through A Moment.#dragons of the sad embezzler
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how do terfs grapple with the fact that they're white supremacist losers who think that women are weak essentially like adult babies but that they also bear the apparent brunt of all human pain... liiike ok which narrative are we going with
#you can't have it both ways and i thought the whole point of a 'women empowerment movement' (they aren't that. don't worry. ik)#was that women were strong and capable of doing anything... but then they complain about women losing sports#like first of all why is SPORTS of all things the crux of your entire argument on gender theory#and second of all sports are not cooshy soft shit anyways... they've always been incredibly violent (varies depending on the sport ofc)#like especially if you're going to the olympics for boxing i do not know why you'd expect not to get hit hard LMAO??? it's not like she died#it's this narrative of women's fragility that really only comes into play with white women bc let's be real here... terfs are mainly white#and also is so funny to put into a sports argument because not only are you making women look bad by essentially saying they#aren't good at whatever sport they're playing and therefore need to have a strict sex-based caste system in place so they can win#and also never get any injuries??? in sports??? which are highly competitive and where most injuries happen???#but also you're saying that physical strength is directly proportional to gender which is also very much not true. if that dumb bitch#was up against a different woman who was like a bodybuilder or weight lifter she still would have lost because she fucking sucks#meanwhile so many men have fucking noodle arms. it's just ridiculous to push this narrative like someone being biologically male doesn't#make them better at sports or stronger just like being biologically female doesn't make you worse at spoets or weaker#people are sooooo fucking different more than you could even imagine with your little peabrain#but you wanna be racist and evil so bad because you don't like cock and balls on women#this is just embarrassing at this point like some people aren't born completely one way or the other and some have hormone imbalances.#doesn't make them any less of whatever they are.#i don't understand why fucking genitalia gets people so tripped up but of course of society is so sex-based how can it not i guess lmao#imagine getting so scared that someone w/ a penis is going to rape you on a constant basis that you basically say we need to be eugenicists#you realize you can hold men who rape people accountable AND be a decent human being... right? it's actually very easy
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He jerks awake, takes in gulps of air as his brain catches up with his surroundings again. His hands (cold, unnaturally so for him, and shaking but not covered in blood like in the dream), feel around the bed but find nothing other than bunched up sheets. He's alone tonight. Probably for the best. He doesn't really enjoy the thought of being seen like this.
The bed feels uncomfortably cold and overwhelmingly hot at the same time (not to mention damp with sweat) so Wukong wraps the blanket around his shoulders and heads for the door. The night is freezing - literally - but he ignores it, sits at the chilly steps and breathes deeply. It helps with the nervous staticky feeling stuck under his skin as the rest of him gets numb with the cold.
Looking down at his phone Wukong scrolls though his contacts, hovers over Gabriel's name. The image of him bleeding out at his feet is still fresh in his mind and he wants to do something stupid like call and ask if everything's alright or if he can come over.
This kind of dream isn't exactly new. It got worse in the months after Lady Bone Demon's possession and worse still after the time spent in the scroll (and that experience also gave him all kinds of other nightmares to choose from). Most of the time it's Xiaotian being torn apart by his hands. Sometimes it's Macaque. And the little girl who was forced to be the vessel to the cursed spirit, more than once. Mei made an appearance a couple times - though he more often dreams of her killing him, which is just as uncomfortable as it sounds. And sometimes it's other people. And today it's-
He takes a deep breath and holds it in until his lungs prickle with the cold before exhaling. Opens up the messages, looks over their last conversation (he sent a gif of two cats headbutting, titled 'us' and got a cute emoji in reply). The messaging app tells him Gabriel was online twenty minutes ago. It doesn't fully rid him of the discomfort pooling deep in his gut but it will have to do.
It will have to do.
#isola drabble#had a weird dream so i had to give it to him (kind of)#his is just a little worse#i think about the whole possession thing messing him up a lot. like a lot a lot#having all his overwhelming strength used to hurt people he loves without his consent? fucked up!! that would definitely stay in his mind#like he already knows he's strong and capable of using it for bad causes - because he used to do that!! but he's learned to control himself#but what if his body was used to do it?? what if it was outside of his control??#and like yeah he broke out of it. /eventually/#anyway ask me about my thoughts on him getting possessed i WILL go ham
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holy shit I hate the rules and politics within the community services industry
#getting the third degree because I helped up a client#and they asked if I used strength and I was like... yeah I guess a bit? idk#tell me i should call an ambulance... ok#then you guys would be on my case for overblowing a situation and wasting resources or whatever#i also had to arrange a pickup yesterday because there was a staffing issue. trust me.#and i got shit for that too!! because they view it as me doing whatever i want#man i'm trying to make things easier for everyone#idk if previous makes entire sense. basically a last minute shift got assigned that clashed. that service leader was all Well that's#rostering's problem* when I said how it interferes with like three other clients#rostering is understandably panicking when i ca the.#them** so i'm like Look do you want me to call the wife of the client so we can arrange something etc etc#mind you this was all at the end of the day yesterday. i think around when the managers knock off and two hours before rostering#so i wanted to help with the scramble it caused. which technically meant i was overstepping my role... but who else is going to do it lol?#do you guys want someone less capable? are you intimidated by me or something?#then ofc i have a hard time explaining when work tries to do that thing they do where they catch you on technicals#therefore making it hard for you to explain or trust them. whatever man
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well moving everything i owned into storage required six hours four uber rides there four delayed bus x tram rides back and it rained 90% of the time including five minutes of ice pellets bc there was a hailstorm BUT!!!! i did it!!!!!
#truly i did not think i had the physical or mental strength to do it#but i am the bravest and most resilient girl alive!#ive been looking and looking for the Lesson in everything that’s happened in the past three months#and while i do think it was a good practice in accepting pain and discomfort and anxiety without immediately trying to squash it down#i also think maybe i don’t need to assign meaning to every experience i can allow myself to trust the universe#but ALSO i believe more than ever that nature rewards courage#like last time i apartment hunted i applied to 80 places over four months#and that’s part of why i was so afraid to get out of the current situation#but as soon as i committed to leaving and started the lease termination process#i found my new place in literally one week on the first try#it’s a little expensive and a shoebox but it’s SO CUTE and the location is incredible#and it’s ALL MINE!!!!#i <3 letting go of the need for control over the future and allowing things to happen as they will#esp bc i have proven ONCE AGAIN that i am incredibly resilient and capable and brave and can face every challenge life throws at me
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can college just like, pause for a moment. I wanna catch up on linktober :(
#josh talks#college as always is kicking my ass#god i wish homework weren't a thing#like i do admit sometimes it can be helpful. like in math i really do need to do homework#cuz i have a shit memory so i really do need to practice#but most homework!! is meaningless busy work!!!!!#read one of my class's syllabi (?) and it said to be ready to spend 6-12 hours a week on homework outside of class#like bro wtf#i literally almost didnt graduate highschool because of homework.#like my grade of in class work would be really really good but i literally failed so many classes because of homework#and nothing else#shoutout to my chem teacher who was the first to realize that it wasn't laziness#he came up to me and pointed out all my grades of in-class assignments and they were literally all 100%#so like. he knew i knew this stuff but he also knew that it likely wasnt laziness or i probably wouldnt be doing#quite that well in in-class stuff too#like he told me that i knew what i was doing. and he told me that he knew i was smart and capable#and it really meant a lot to hear that from a teacher.#cuz he wasn't saying this stuff to then just express disappointment in me not completing homework or anything#no he was a little concerned about me and wanted to help#and i hadn't ever really had a teacher tell me something like that before without a “but...”#some of my favorite teachers ive ever had are the ones who aren't afraid to compliment their students#more teachers need to learn that telling your students that theyve done well is a really good thing to do#cuz goddamn all throughout our education we are only ever told negative things#only ever get points knocked off. only ever get criticism and things to do better next time#i remember the first time i ever got feedback on an english essay that was positive#took me until junior year of highschool. cuz up until then my essays either needed a lot of work#or met the requirements and thus didn't need any comments made on it. cuz for some reason school is allergic#to telling students anything that isn't negative#it was baffling to get comments on what i did well. on my strengths in writing (that i didnt even know i had!)#and even just to be told that it was an enjoyable read
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your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:
can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol
LaDS casually carrying MC
Xavier
The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.
And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.
You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."
You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.
You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.
Rafayel
"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"
He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.
Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.
"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."
When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.
Zayne
“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”
Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.
But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.
He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.
Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."
Sylus
Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.
Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.
Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.
However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.
"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."
#i think rafayel is the only one who hasn't carried us yet...? correct me if i'm wrong#love and deepspace#love & deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love & deepspace x reader#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#my writing
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Mr. Mxyzptlk decides to have some fun and decides it’s time for some bodyswapping shenanigans. Behold, a list of varying bodyswaps I think would be neat to explore:
—
Jack Fenton and Clark Kent
Jack being Jack and getting used to his powers and being INCREDIBLY confused that he woke up NOT in his bed, not next to his incredible wife, and assuming this is a ghosts shenanigans. Clark is freaking out because he’s human, not next to HIS incredible wife, assumes this is a Mxyzptlk plot, and cements himself as an incredibly good father figure with Danny and Jazz, reaching out to other Supers for help to teach Jack the ropes and to wait out whatever Mxy has done.
—
Artemis swapping with Jazz
during an Outlaws mission and DURING some test for Jazz. Both freak out, both have to adjust to the other persons strengths and abilities, and Jason and Bizzaro have to calm a very confused and scared teenager who’s in an Amazonian body. While Danny’s friends are DESPERATELY trying to stop Artemis from throwing hands with every ghost she sees.
—
Johnny 13 and Jason Todd
Jason Todd is dead again. Not Good. Johnny is alive again. This ROCKS! Jason’s Red Hood goons lock him up because their boss is clearly compromised. Jason figures a way out of the Ghost Zone and asks Phantom for help. Along with having to acclimate to being able to control a sentient shadow and ghostly powers, Jason is in for a doozy. Johnny on the other hand, is going through many many attempts to escape Red Hood’s room and failing… until Red Robin crashes through a window. Apparently he should have answered the calls on Red Hood’s phone. Red Robin near instantly clocks that whoever is in Jason’s body, isn’t Jason. Ok, time to bring Not Jason to the Batcave to figure out what’s going on.
—
Vlad Masters and Alfred Pennyworth
Instant character change from both parties. Alfred is midway through talking to Bruce about over exerting himself and Vlad is midway through nearly successfully capturing Phantom.
—
Paulina and Wonder Woman
Paulina having to adjust with Amazonian strength and being lassoed by another party to figure out what’s happening in full (prolly Batman and his paranoid ass wanting the absolute truth <3). Diana having to adjust with being an average teenage girl who’s also high up on the Highschool food chain and pretending nothing is wrong until she can contact the League to figure out what just happened.
—
Tucker Foley and Dick Grayson:
Tucker swapping with Dick while Dick is at the Batcave. He’s too busy marveling at the tech and not really registering that he’s Not In His Body until he hears a roar of a motorcycle somewhere in the distance (One of the Batfamily coming back to the cave), and his reality comes crashing down. Tucker is mid ghost capture when Dick swaps with him and realizes VERY quickly that he’s not in his body and proceeds to go “fuck it. This hero he doesn’t know is genuinely struggling and he needs to blend in until he knows what’s going on. Dick doesn’t know this guys fighting capabilities but he has to AT LEAST know how to dodge well and aim well (Spoiler alert: Tucker doesn’t.
—
Danny Fenton and Martian Manhunter
DANNY IS AN ALIEN! THIS IS THE COOLEST THING EVER!!… Danny also has absolutely no idea how to shapeshift so he’s stuck in J’onn’s true Martian form and uncontrollably shapeshifting random parts of his body out of stress because he can hear *everyones thoughts* within a few miles. Danny’s grown to be a quick learner with powers but with all this noise he just. Can’t. Concentrate. J’onn doing his damndest to act as a regular human boy while not panicking about having absolutely zero telepathy. He’s told the boy’s friends after they noticed something wrong. He found out midway on the walk to Sam’s house that J’onn can turn invisible quite easily. It’s not the same as it is in his body but it’s not too different, kind of like flexing a different sequence of muscles to create the same movement.
#Mxyzptlk is a very chaotic being so I avoided Danny and Batfam as much as humanly possible bc this man wants chaos and not the common#situations they get thrown in. he’s a fifth dimensional being. he knows about fanfic tropes and dpxdc 100%#I LOVE the Jack and Clark one if someone uses it I’d love you forever#dpxdc#danny phantom#dp x dc#bones prompts
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REMEMBER.
minors dni. 2.6k words. smut. daryl dixon x fem!reader. protective daryl. hint of size kink. strength kink.
It's easy to forget his strength when his touch is always so gentle. When you're safe, he lets you forget everything he's capable of; the reason you've both made it this long.
Safety lets you forget.
And then—when it inevitably all it all goes to shit again—you remember.
"Get in!" he calls through the wall of bodies separating you. He keeps the attention of most of them, but there's a few stumbling in your direction—too many for you to handle alone. "Now!" he shouts as he takes another growling walker down.
It goes against every instinct you have—to leave him to fight this alone. But this was his domain. This was when you did whatever the fuck he told you to do. It was how you survived.
You drag the door of the container open, grunting as the heavy metal fights back. It's a makeshift prison cell, one that was supposed to be filled with live bait for the walkers. It would be if it weren't for Daryl. He was almost single-handedly dismantling whatever fucked up enterprise you'd both stumbled upon.
One of them reaches you before you'd manage to push the gate open enough to slip through.
One is fine. You can handle one.
Turning around to deal with it gives you a split second to check in on Daryl. He's making a dent in the mass of bodies, but it's not enough. Not with the shouts of the living making their way closer.
You kick the walker you've knifed back into the mass of bodies approaching, giving you just enough time to slip through the crack you've made in the sliding door and slam it closed behind you.
Locking it is another story.
You have no hope of accomplishing that.
Still, it's enough for now. It's enough to let Daryl keep his focus where it needs to be as you deal with as many as you can through the bars.
Then one gets shot down. Daryl, is your first thought. But then two are shot down at once. And then the voices reach your ears. Voices are bad. Walkers you can handle. The living was another story. Nothing stoked the fear constantly simmers in your gut like the voices of the living.
They shout over each other, calling directions as they pick off the mass with a spray of bullets. You can't see Daryl anymore. He's either dead or hiding.
Hiding. Hiding. Hiding.
You shift back into one of the dark corners of the container as the shouts draw nearer.
“What the fuck happened?! Don't shoot them you dumb fucks! Get any you can back into holding!”
Any second now... any second they'd find Daryl and your world would end. The living were different. The living were monsters of a different kind.
"They're bunched up around this one!" someone shouts.
You hold your breath.
"Well check it out then!" another demands.
Oh, fuck. You grip your pistol. Your aim was decent. You could take one out, maybe two. But there's a whole group... and they were coming for you.
You scramble to the other far corner as the last of the walkers are cleared from the entrance, hoping to take advantage of the darkest shadows. Daryl would be watching... waiting. Any extra moment you could give him could be vital.
"You better come out now," a man calls from outside. He's just out of your sights, prepared for you to be armed and ready to fight. You'd hoped to have the element of surprise. "I ain't asking."
You know what'll happened when they find you. It's the same thing each time. You're prey to people like these—something to hunt in a world without consequences for that kind of thing.
Your silence buys you less than a minute before the first of them are dragging the metal gate open. If you shoot, they'll shoot back. It's not something you'll survive cornered like this. So you bet on them being the same as the rest. You let them know you're prey.
"Please," you call, as meek and afraid as you can manage—vulnerable. Not a threat. "I'm—I'm unarmed."
Then a bright light blinds you.
"What the fuck?" one of them exclaims. Then, "Where'd the fuck this little thing come from?"
There it was. Little. Thing. You were nothing. You're not a threat. You'd bought Daryl more time.
"Come on out, girl. Come on." They call you like you're a dog, something less than human. That's how they see you. Something to use.
You take a small step forward, still blinded by their flashlights. Daryl was alive. He was alive and hiding and he was waiting for something.
You just had to stay alive.
"What do you... want with me?" you ask, still taking tiny steps towards the light. Weak. Vulnerable. No threat.
You get muffled laughter in response. Guards down. Distracted.
"What do we want? We want a little fun, honey. That's all. Just a bit of fun."
They're flash lights drop as you approach the entrance. They've pulled the gate all the way across.
Five. You count five. If you kill two...
"Why is she alone?" one of them questions. He's younger, a little less distracted.
The rest ignore him. Then one of them has you by the arm, dragging you the rest of the way out of the makeshift cell. They're hands send a wave of repulsion through your body as they grab at you, pulling you around and shoving you in front of them. They may as well be the undead the way their touch feels against your skin.
The young one doesn't move out of the way when you reach him. Instead he stares into you, suspicious and angry. "Who are you with?" he asks. Even then, his gun is lowered. Even to him you aren't a threat.
"Get the fuck out of the way," the man gripping your arm says, clearly irritated and impatient.
"But—"
"Now."
His eyes narrow, but then he steps aside—his back pressed to the wall to let the rest of the men past. It's now that you get a look down into the pit of walkers, the one's they've managed to recapture rather than take out. They reach up towards you, hands grabbing for you.
Then, only a few steps later—you're stopped. The man with his hand wrapped around your elbow leans over your shoulder, his rancid breath invading your nostrils as he speaks. "You alone?" he asks. "You tell me right now."
You blink away the burn threatening to pool tears in your eyes. Were you alone? If you were...
The man's grip tightens, the only warning you get before you're forced to your knees and staring down into the pit of hungry walkers. "Speak," he demands, nails carving into your skin. "I'd hate to waste you like this."
There's two other men behind you. Three surrounding you in total. You could take one out for sure. They hadn't even searched you for weapons. They expected nothing out of you at all.
But then there'd be two, only counting the ones in reaching distance. How long would it take the other two further away to aim their guns in your direction?
You were dying tonight if Daryl was dead, that was certain. Your only hope was that he was waiting and watching... but what would he be waiting for...
Your pistol sits at your hip, a comfortable weight.
You take a deep breath. You could wait to die. Or fight now and hope that's the moment he's waiting for... if he's waiting at all.
The man holding you drops to one knee behind you. He leans over to speak in your ear. You wouldn't need to rely on your aim for the first kill, only any that followed. It was a headstart you weren't likely to get again. You reach for your pistol and before the man can open his lips and taint your senses with his rot once more, you shoot him through the underside of his jaw.
Your ears ring as his body drops. But you were ready. The men behind you aren't.
You were nothing. Prey.
The few seconds that affords you are priceless. You manage to shoot one more through the head before he can get hands on his own weapon.
The third is another story. His gun is pointed at you for what must be milliseconds. They drag though, those moments with an enemy weapon pointed at your head always do.
But then Daryl is there, strangling the man with a rifle and shoving his body into the ground with a force that reverberates through the metal. It's only when he snaps the man's neck you spot the bodies behind him.
He'd been waiting for you.
You watch him stand, hair hanging in his face and his chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.
Then his eyes are on you.
Then his hands.
Those hands... the same ones he'd used seconds earlier to break a man's neck. His fingers are feathers across your skin as he brushes the hair back off your face. "Okay?" he asks, soft and a little shaky.
You nod.
"You did good," he says, that deep gravel back in his voice. "So good, sweetheart." His hand makes a trail down to your neck, gentle and slow over your pulse point to rest at your clavicle. "We gotta go," he says. "Stay close for me, yeah?"
—————
The first time after is always the same—after you're forced to remember. It adds something to the way his gentle hands feel as he reaches over your hips to dip between your legs. To the way his body feels pressed up behind yours.
His thick fingers slip between your slick folds as he holds you tight against his chest. Heat. It's an overwhelming heat. He crowds you, practically curled around you.
"You like that sweetheart?" His voice is almost sweet as his lips graze your ears and his long hair tickles your skin. "Huh? You like that?"
You nod with a small whine, pressing your hips back into him—desperate.
He sighs, finger prodding over and over at your swollen entrance—a teasing little hint of what's to come. He dips in slightly, his calloused fingertip pressing into your slippery, spongy entrance just enough to have you whimpering his name.
"Fuck," he grunts. "You need me here? Huh? You all fuckin' empty?"
"Yeah," you whine with a desperate nod. "Empty."
His grip around your ribs tightens for a moment before he's pressing you into the ground—cushioned by the few blankets you carry. He's rolled you onto your belly as he covers you completely, his warmth seeping into your skin from his calves to his hot breath on your neck.
"What do you need?" he asks. As if he doesn't know; as if he didn't always know.
"You."
"Hm?" he hums, sweet and coaxing. "How?"
You reach blindly to find his wrist, gripping it firmly. "Hold me tight," you gasp between jagged breaths. "Please... Please."
His weight is heavy over you as he drops his lips to your neck, a silent acknowledgement of your pleas.
Then he's scooping you up, lifting you and rearranging you exactly the way you want him to. Because he fucking knows.
He has you pressed to his chest with your tits against his skin as he lays back into the makeshift bed you've created for the night. His arms wrap around you, one across your shoulder blades and the other around your waist—secure and firm. His fingers press sporadically into your skin a little more than needed, like he's testing his grip on you; like he's testing he has you in his arms good and tight.
Then he hooks one leg under yours, a gentle guide to part your legs just the way he needs.
"You ready for me, sweetheart?" he breathes against your temple as one of his hands leaves you. It's temporary, you remind yourself. He'd be wrapping you up securely as soon as he'd buried himself deep; once his cock was guided safely into your throbbing cunt.
You nip at his neck in response, chasing with a delicate lick at his salty skin. "Please," you ask softly.
Then he's adjusting you against him a little, ensuring you're exactly where he needs you to be. "I got you," he says as his leaking tip prods at your entrance. "Got you," he repeats. He mumbles this way as he teases; as he plays. This was what he did: pushed you to the brink of desperate sobs as he guides his cockhead over your slippery, throbbing cunt... over and over.... and over...
Saying he liked you needy was an understatement.
Then, eventually, he slips inside. Just the tip.. and not far. Just enough so that he can wrap his arms around you again. Just enough that he can have you whimpering his name as he prevents you grinding down to take him deep inside.
This is when he gives you a hint of his strength. It's easy to keep you from your goal, his strong arms pressing you into his torso a little harder each time you attempt to resist.
He keeps you there, just with a taste of that fullness—a taste of having him as close as it was possible to be. "Kiss," he says, simple and a little croaky.
You obey, pressing your desperation between his lips. It's messy and interrupted by moments where you simply need to breathe, heavily—his lips chasing yours as you attempt to catch your breath.
"Daryl," you gasp eventually. "Now. Please."
His grip around you tightens a little as you drop your face to his neck.
Then he pulls you down to meet his cock, to fuck himself deep. It's hard, exactly like you need it—exactly the way he knows you want it. You bite into his neck weakly as he keeps you there, stuffed full—the thick throbbing length of him stretching you out so completely.
Then, "Like that?" he asks, that sweetness back in his voice—like he's offering you a gentle back massage instead of holding you down on his cock.
You nod weakly in response.
His fingers press into your skin moments before he's moving, fucking himself with your cunt as he pulls you down to meet his messy thrusts. You're completely pliant like this, all control relinquished.
He's got you.
His breathing is quickly transformed into uneven pants as he attempts to grunt broken sentences into your ear. "Sucking me in... sucking at my cock with your messy little cunt... aren't you, baby? Hm?"
One of his hands moves to your hair occasionally, a temporary and seemingly subconscious attempt to get a better grip—or just to hold you closer. His fingers tangle in the strands, never tugging hard—never hurting.
"My girl," he grunts. "My needy little girl."
It's only when he's nearing his end that he flips you onto your back and you get a real display. He grips your hips and tugs you down to meet him as he uses you, each thrust a slapping of skin and punching a helpless sound from your lungs.
Strength. Everything you've been forced to remember.
"Daryl," you gasp. "Daryl, fill me. Please."
His fingers dig a little more into your skin, his hair falling over his eyes. Then his lips part, a grunt... a broken, "Fuck."
He falls over you as he floods you, his cock twitching and pumping you full—just like you asked. But even then, even as he loses himself, he catches his fall—arms landing either side of your head to cage you in. "Got you," he gasps out between desperate lung fulls of air. "I got you."
#daryl dixon smut#daryl x reader#daryl dixon#twd daryl#twd x reader#daryl dixon x reader#x reader#daryl imagines#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#mine: daryl dixon
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In a piece for The New Inquiry from back in 2017, George Dust states that when queer people complain about there being a top shortage, what they really mean is “nobody is fucking me the way I want, and I have no agency in that.” Alongside co-authors Billy-Ray Belcourt and Kay Gabriel, Dust suggests that many queer people align themselves with a passive or “bottom” position because they believe that role will absolve them of the guilt of really wanting things. They present themselves as what they believe to be the sexual party with zero power; the receiver, the accepter of action rather than its cause.
This position is drawn in contrast to the bottom-identified person’s idea of a top: the one who approaches, the person with hungers and desires, the person who decides which sexual activities will happen and how intense they will get. The top, from this perspective, is the stronger, more capable, more dangerous person. They’re the only one who can ever be guilty of intruding or harming somebody else. This power is scary, but it’s also compelling.
Dust calls this fantastical version of a top a “brute” — and they are the most cartoonish stereotype of what it means in society to be a man. Because it’s a cartoonish stereotype, no human actually lives up to it — and we’d probably revile a person even if they could.
Though queer people know we are harmed by the gender binary and heteronormativity and all the social scripts those things force upon us, its biases are still embossed on our brains. Without meaning to, we reproduce tired gender stereotypes in our relationships. And so we see expressing a sexual want as masculine, and being masculine as being more capable of violence and coercive control, and thus bad. We see failing to communicate one’s desires openly as desirably feminine, as well as a sign of blamelessness and purity — because on some level we still feel it is wrong to have desires.
But this entire worldview is a complete lie. Desire is not evil. Expressing attraction is not a violation. Failing to express oneself can be just as dangerous as not listening to someone else’s limits. Women can be abusive. Bottoms can sexually assault. No matter our gender, presentation, or sexual role, we are each capable of harm. And the only way to make a safe, mutually pleasurable sexual encounter happen is by going after it, actively, and communicating from a position of inner strength.
So how do you do that, if society’s been telling you all your life that you’re meant to date by acting like a deer passively snapping twigs in the woods, waiting for some hunter to hear you, and pursue you? (That really is dating advice that Evangelical Christian counselors give to women, if you can believe it).
By not fixating so much on what you’re doing or not doing to draw other people toward you, and instead thinking in terms of what you want and what you observe beyond yourself.
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♡ may I have your attention, please? ♡
-> how the genshin men would try to impress you
They would try to impress you through..
Strength
Itto, Childe, Wriothesley
Would try to impress you with physical displays of strength and show his battle prowess. He'd do this because 1) he's a show-off (more so Itto and Childe), and 2) he would want to show how capable he is of defending you, and let you know that you won't have to worry about anything while he's around.
Maybe if you're also into fighting, he'll challenge you to a duel. It'd be his sneaky way of getting close and up front with you, hehe. You might even end up impressing him with your own skills 😌
(I see Itto and Childe being the type to try to flex at any given opportunity for you, intending that you'll drool over his muscles LMAO)
Being smooth with his words
Kaeya, Heizou, Lyney
Will try to fluster you and will do so using smooth lines. He'll take special note of what gets a smile out of you, a little laugh from you, and especially a blush from you. Thus, he'll attempt to initiate a conversation and form his words in ways that will have you doing all three the entire time. He hopes he can make you feel some type of way and let you know that YOU make HIM feel some type of way too ;)
Knowledge
Alhaitham, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Dainsleif, Ayato
Similar to the previous category, they'll try to capture your heart in conversation, but they wouldn't even intend to be impressive. They simply have pure interest in you and would love to stimulate both of your minds with a good conversation.
More importantly, he'd be able to gain more knowledge about you and, therefore, feel closer to you. He'd keep track of nearly every single thing you've said, so don't be surprised when he brings up that incredibly tiny detail you briefly mentioned in conversations before. It'll be proof of his attentiveness and deep focus on you because he's so down bad for you
After all, while he may be an expert on many subjects, the subject that he strives to become the greatest expert on is you.
Little gifts
Xiao, Scaramouche, Diluc, Gorou, Albedo
They'd prefer to show that you've caught their interest through little, thoughtful gifts. I see these guys as being a bit on the reserved and quiet side. So instead of using their words to display their affection for you, they'd much rather give you gifts, in hopes that you'll understand how much you mean to them.
Specifcally, for example, I see Albedo giving you pictures he drew of beautiful landscapes that you've both seen on walks together or maybe draw cute little creatures for you to play with
I see Xiao or Gorou giving you flowers that you've mentioned you loved. He just so happened to find them as he was out, scouting the area (he actually looked everywhere for them).
Scaramouche and Diluc would probably give you practical things that he also 'happened to find around'. "I heard you needed this", he'd mutter as he handed you a rare artifact or material that you had been looking for that could have only been found in the most dangerous areas.
And every one of them would absolutely melt inside each time they see your face light up with pure joy when you receive their gift. That expression would be the gift you gave them in return, which is why they ensured to keep giving you these tiny gifts
Jokes
CYNO
A special category for him because I JUST KNOW that he'd try to capture your heart through jokes. You know what they say: "Laughter is the best medicine" (and you're the medicine to his heart). Therefore, he'd spend all day just to come up with the best jokes he can. Although they might not always land, he'd be the happiest guy if he could still receive a small laugh or a smile from you for his efforts or for just how plain silly his joke was. (Please laugh at at least one of them, he's trying his best)
Song
Venti, Kazuha
Another special category for these two!
Venti would probably sing ballads for you to get your attention. He might even compose a ballad about you, and within it, he'd describe your traits with affection, and will subtly confess his own feelings within the lyrics.
Kazuha would play his little leaf flute for you. He'd play the most beautiful melodies he knew. He would try to play anything you liked and would basically be your own personal jukebox. If he didn't know a certain tune you wanted to hear, he'd be glad to learn it from you. Maybe you would hum the tune a bit, and he would try to match the pitches. I personally think he'd love doing making music with you, and the same would go for poems, too. He would adore creating haikus and poems with you, as well as creating them FOR you
Sharing passions
Thoma, Baizhu, Tighnari, Kaveh
If there was anything in common you two loved, he would invest in it for sure, knowing that it captivated both of you. It would be a fun and delightful way of getting to know one another better.
On the other hand, if you two didn't share a common interest, then there was no problem either. He would be delighted to learn more about yours. After all, he'd want to know what makes you happy, and hopefully become another source of happiness for you. And he would be over the moon for you if you asked him the same, asking him to teach you about what he loves. (Which means you have to teach him more about YOU)
He'd want to create a strong bond with you through this and hopes that it'll become something even more eventually.
a/n: apologies for the silly commentary throughout this. I was in a goofy mood while writing, teehee
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
#genshin impact x reader#nene writes~♡#diluc x reader#childe x reader#kaeya x reader#alhaitham x reader#kaveh x reader#wriothesley x reader#neuvillette x reader#zhongli x reader#thoma x reader#ayato x reader#itto x reader#albedo x reader#cyno x reader#venti x reader#kazuha x reader#gorou x reader#scaramouche x reader#baizhu x reader#tighnari x reader#xiao x reader#dainsleif x reader#heizou x reader#lyney x reader
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One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.
Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.
We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.
Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.
And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.
And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.
About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.
What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?
Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?
Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?
Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.
It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.
Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.
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