#one minute i be chillin
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his therapist woulda had a field day at their next appointment
#my art#doodle#fanart#resident evil 8#ethan winters#i think its so funny that he has a journal in re8. not only does he have a journal but he illustrates it. i dont know if capcom intended to#imply that ethan stops every now and then to jot down the horrors and the hour that the horrors occur my guess is prolly not#but now its there and it makes me laugh. i shouldnt laugh at his mental health journey but i am anyways#shoutout to people who journal i wish i was you but instead i draw a guy feelin my emotions for me#but im so happy the sun goess away at 5pm. truly immaculate. i miss snow. but we stay chillin#i made more dear diary doodles but these were my favs n they went well together#i changed the entry in the 2nd one though cause i thought it was funnier to me this way#i cut my hair too short again im not even sad about it anymore like whatever man#at least its out of my way. and my shower was SO fast i got to stand there 5ever and it was still only like 15 minutes#fantastic. there are so many joys in life. theres twice as many horrors but the joys are definitely there and they are definitely joyful#anyways thats the post stay warm n cozy out there gang
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sorry I'm so emotionally unstable lol
apparently it's a (c)ptsd thing :')
who knew being mentally ill gave you symptoms hah
#sarcasm cause ofc i have symptoms but#i have something wrong eith me cause it never clicks that this stuff actually affects me#one minute i be chillin#next i be pulling my hair out crying screaming#next i be coping with something horrible#then i be chilling again#like please just pick a stable mood for one hour#please brain#oh well#maybe i should resign myself to actually being mentally ill but i dont know how to cope with DID!#and ptsd#lol#vent tw#also i 'shouldnt be posting this'#and am 'begging for attention'#but my system is sleeping i dont care#i do just want attention sometimes... whats so wrong with admitting you need it#cause i need that. im so ill lol#...#i should be embarassed but i couldnt give two shits#as far as im concerned ill be dead tomorrow#but as soon as i say that well... im sure we will have another swotch so does it even matter what i want#did fucking sucks gimme normalcy lol#pretty please#no trauma would be amaaaazing
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MARTch, day 23: chill. You ever freehand a car just to feel something
#hes chillin. hes a chill guy. its chill#martch#martch2024#coyoteworks#oc#mwnn#artists on tumblr#original character#illustration#digital art#digital painting#cowboy#cowboy art#western art#dont zoom in too close its 3am and i dont feel compelled to clean up minute details into eternity#as it turns out drawing cars is very therapeutic btw.#this one is a 1974 dodge tradesman 200
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Hey, it’s kinda weird that second guy showed up after the first guy left, huh? 🤔
#anyways (arrives 15 minutes late with Starbucks and two late memes. one of which is this tag's framing device)#artists on tumblr#barbie movie#wererat#wererat oc#original character#original characters#sfw#tim tag#ratman tag#gif warning#animation#I debated on if Tim should have normal colored nails or black nails since - canonically - he had black nails post-transformation#(gross blood stuff mention cw) due to the blood pooling underneath the nail beds just chillin' there#however I was like '...Yeah buuuut-'
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🤡
#witcher 3 is such an iconic game honestly#found myself listening to the soundtrack and#just thought of how you could just be chillin' one minute#picking plants#selling all the random shit you've collected#doing random witcher stuff#but the second you hear the LELELELELE#it's immediately an ''oh shit" moment#you KNOW some griffin-esque fuck or whatever is gonna pop up#i almost pissed myself laughing at some of the comments on that song#“when your mom gets mad and calls you by your full name”#you: i forgot our anniversary#your bf/gf: *this song starts playing*#💀#tragic clowning#witcher 3
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Area Man "I'm not even upset about it I just think it's kinda funny" Found Teary-Eyed In His Bed Mere Hours Later
#alofnse... save me... save me alfonse.....#literally usually i have too much pride for this LMFAOOOOOOOO#a day ago? or so? i was so sad and sulky too was having one of those required rest days (disability is disabling ect ect)#and i NEARLY. NEARLY. made a post about it like man being a shut-in sucks actually#i should be sleeping in someone else's bed someone i love and trust and they can be doing something else but i'm in their bed#variety. also cat behavior. chillin in the same room as you back turned not interacting at all. but i love you that's why i'm here#so sad... so so sads...#lemme sulk for like ten to twenty maybe an hour minutes. i'll be fine 👍
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I just read a whole wacky thread of people arguing which parent was bad Garmadon or Misako and I’m no longer scared of the Misako defenders
#shoutout to the one person who was going on about how garmadon was bad for LETTING LLOYD GET DRAFTED??? HUH???#they had a whole bunch of essays about that and everyone just had to ignore it cuz wtf were they on about#their argument kind of just turned into Everyone Is Bad Cuz They Let Lloyd Be A Ninja#and like. sure? but that’s just (LIKE THEY LITERALLY SAID) bc of the writers not realizing the implications. so it’s irrelevant#cuz it applies to EVERYONE man so WHY ARE WE DISCUSSING THIS. also why point to GARMADON do u think he WANTED LLOYD TO BE THE GREEN NINJA#WAS THAT NOT LIKE. HIS ENTIRE GOAL. TO MAKE HIM NOT THE GREEN NINJA. applies to Misako too actually#my point is it was SO IRRELEVANT LOL#oh yeah but um the actual post. uh. yeah the ppl defending Misako were literally making stuff up and refusing to fact check#like listen I hella respect if you want to make ur little headcanons that justify her actions a bit more but you CANNOT be treating them as#fact like you literally made that up 😭#it wouldn’t be as bad if they weren’t also making stuff up to make Garmadon look WORSE. like wtf. they were straight up contradicting canon#to say that Garmadon didn’t care or whatever and never even tried to be there for Lloyd LIIIKE#honestly my biggest damning reason I don’t like Misako is honestly the fact that we meet her GIVING A TOUR. THAT IS NOT MORE IMPORTANT THAN#UR SON. like sure research prophecy or whatever SHE CLEARLY IS DONE WITH THAT AND IS JUST CHILLIN AT THE MUSEUM LIKE WHATTT#it’s like ‘oh she’s on break’ or ‘oh she’s just earning some money yknow ppl need that’ BUT LIKE. UR TELLING ME SHE HAS FREE TIME OUTSIDE OF#RESEARCH AND SHE CANT SPEND EVEN A MINUTE TO REACH OUT TO HER SON????#a lot of the arguments I saw acted like she couldn’t spare a single moment for Lloyd otherwise it gets in the way of her research when#CLEARLY SHE CAN. bro was CASUALLY STROLLING ALONG THE MUSEUM and just goes ‘oh hey abandoned son’ LIKEEE#Misako could’ve been a better character if the writers like. thought about things a LITTLE MORE. and gave her some depth.#and YOU CAN HEADCANON AS MUCH DEPTH AS YOU WANT ONTO HER. THATS COOL. BUT ITS NOT REAL.#I just think Misako defenders should be less ‘free my girl she did none of that’ and more ‘free my girl she did all that but the writers#didn’t know what they were doing’#like Misako has great potential but they fumbled. rip.
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Okay so I started reading Trigun and I got like five chapters in and I’m pretty sure I have whiplash
#like y’all I’m so confused#one minute they’re fighting the next they’re just chillin#I have no idea who’s talking half the time#‘the lady beats me and the gay man comes after me’ child WHAT#Karly reads Trigun#I just wanted to read it before watching the 98 anime#but I may stop and watch it first instead#trigun#trigun manga
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i am so tired of people asking me to always go out for plans and neverrrr taking me up on just hanging out Here. i’m tired!!! and cold!!!
#i mean if we’re all going out yeah but like damn i bet it’s nice for u to host you don’t have to fuckin go anywhere!!!#sorry. bitter. ugh like whatever maybe i’ll go to dinner tn but i didn’t even know these two friends had talked separately#abt doing so so i suggested just chillin w a movie and they were like hmm ok hey r u still thinking of x. like girl ok.#and it’s like a 10 min walk for them tops. not even. and i’ll have to take the bus to not freeze. and i don’t even have anyone to walk with#whereas they live within like a minute of each other so they’re close and can walk together yk. like it’s just annoying.#who knew i could complain abt one thing for so long.#abby talks#btw lydia yeah if u see this it’s not abt u i think that’s clear with my specific complaints at this point but yeah#like it’s Always gotta be convenient for other people and like yeah there aren’t many trendy cool restaurants right by me ig except there r#they’re just not the familiar campus ones we all know idk
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christ i'm finally home. thank gd
#sasha speaks#i wanna talk about me#rehearsal in the morning#then i discovered that my phone is. broken. very distressingly so#the back is popping off because the battery is bulging. very Not Good#so i had to make an unplanned visit to the phone store...#spent like thirty very stressful minutes on call with phone insurance to file a claim.#good news is they're sending me a replacement and it'll be here monday#so i don't have to scramble being phoneless for very long. and i'll definitely have it ready for spain next weekend#which is really the important thing...i need my phone to travel sorry#but gd. i'm wiped#i haven't had much to eat today i've just been going nonstop since close to 8#well i have an iced chai and a pastry now. and i'm chillin.#all my roommates and a bunch of their friends are out at pride rn#it was pretty neat seeing so many people out on the metro and around the city all decked out for pride today tbh#lots of colors and hair/face paint and funky outfits#i would go if i wasn't so tired. and bad with crowds#but. gah. enough excitement for one day i just want to sit in front of a screen for a bit...#shoutout to my 6'1 skinny straight white man roommate tho and his mustache he dyed rainbow for pride tho
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i would LOVE to stop having dreams forever actually
#surprise surprise guess who it wss about#i was in a mall w my brother and we were soooo chillin#found a cool hoodie that i want irl now. was walking to the checkout and guess who walked in with a group of her friends#(who used to be my old friends. btw.)#and we. locked eyes and i looked away and scurried up to the register like a fucking prey animal#and after i paid for it there was like this barrier thing between the register line and the rest of the store#and as i was goinf aroundnthat i ran into her by accident and dropped my stuff#and i had to sit there and listen to her indirectly speak about me to her friends even thiugh i was right there and#jghughgughh writing this out makes it feel like the most stupid high school drama thing but#i remember looking up from the floor and seeing one of my old friends and like. pleading w her for any sort of help#and she looked. sad but didnt do shit#so i just had to. run out tail between legs like a fucking coward#and the entire rest of the dream walking aroundnthe mall they would come into every store i eas in like. 4 minutes behind me#just enough time for me to. forget abt the experience and try to enjoy myself#only to see yhem again a minute later and remember why im running for my goddamn life#ughghghghggghghgh#dont. look at me.#and now its like 10 am which means ive slept in and i fucking hate sleeping in bc i lose like half the day#this is valuable time i could have spent being productive or something. fuck
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im being so helpful rn y'all, you wouldn't believe it by how little i am actively doing /silly /lighthearted
(i am sitting in a vc as my friend edits their fic, and giving feedback on things they present to me. it's actually both easy and nice and i have been told i'm being very helpful. which is great actually and im so happy i can help even when im low energy ^-^)
#my favorite job fr#“yes tell me your word options again?”#“that first ”pressed“ should be ”pushed“ i think”#“ooooh i like that phrasing”#“that's good. leave it.”#“you're doing so good im so proud of you”#“yes you should have bitchy comment there”#“that's a dash place not a comma place”#<- examples of my helping#to be clear i only get asked one every few minutes so ive been just chillin for the most part#i am so happy though
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pairings: Onyankopon x black reader
warnings: Jean slander, smut 18+
Need you
“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “
“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.
“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.
“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.
“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.
“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.
“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.
You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?
Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.
You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.
Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.
“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.
“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.
“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.
“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”
“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”
“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.
“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”
“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.
“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.
“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.
“C’mere,” He released your ankles.
“Ony I’m not gonna-”
“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.
“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.
You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.
“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.
Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”
“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.
“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”
He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”
"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”
“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.
“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.
“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.
“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.
“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.
“Ony I-”
“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.
“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”
“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.
“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.
“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.
“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.
“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.
Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.
“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.
“I missed you too”
“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.
“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.
“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.
“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.
“Lemme show this nigga too.”
first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah
#aot x black reader#anime x black!reader#aot x reader#black reader#onyankopon x black y/n#aot onyankopon#attack on titan#onyankopon fluff#onyankopon x reader#onyankopon x you#onyankopon smut#onyankapon#ony smut#onyankopon x plusize reader#plusize reader#onyankopon x chubby reader#chubby reader#aot fluff#aot fic#aot smut#aot#attack on titan smut#attack on titan fluff#aot onyankopon x black y/n#aot onyankopon x black!reader#ony x black reader#onyankopon#onyankopon x black reader#onyankopon x black reader smut
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well hello! what do you think about jason’s tits (those that he does not assume that are very big titties)?
Well my dear reader! I think that his tiddies don’t get enough attention. Like- imagine this:
Jason and you are just chillin’ on the couch and you wanna lay your head on a soft surface of sorts. And what do you know! His tiddies are just within reach. So, you just plop your head on there and pretend that you don’t know what your actions are doing to him. You can hear his heartbeat speeding up (he told you once before how sensitive his chest is and you just happen to put your head extremely close to his nipple. So your cheek is just moving his shirt where it lays as it just barely grazes his skin and it’s making him shudder and squirm in his seat. You smirk to yourself at his reaction).
Another time is when you feel kinda stressed and wanna just squeeze something. So, you just come up from behind him while he’s minding his business in the kitchen, and just casually cup his pecs and start squeezing and massaging them and playing with his nipples from over his shirt, twisting, pulling, and pinching while he subtly (it’s not subtle to you at all, you can read him like an open book) shakes and lets out little gasps where he stands and starts to lean against the counter for support as if to will himself to not completely submit to you and let you take him right then and there on the kitchen floor.
It’s gotten to the point where every time he spots you in the vicinity, he prepares himself and expects you to just come up from behind him and start your assault on his tits. (he doesn’t hate it, he’d just like a warning when it happens)
Every time you compliment him on having such plush, soft tits while teasing him, he quietly whines saying that they’re not tits or something (it doesn’t take long to convince him otherwise.)
I think it would go something like this:
“Look at how wonderful these are,” you say as you squish them together. You’re sat atop his lap as he lays back on the couch, shirt off. “I could play with these all day. Such pretty tits, don’t you agree, Jason?”
His breaths come out in soft gasps as you continue to twist and pinch at his chest.
“Not tits,” he gasps out while lightly shaking his head, “They’re not.” He’s tightly gripping onto your waist as you unhurriedly grind atop his groin which causes a soft mewl to escape his lips.
You grin at his reaction and grab one of his hands and place it on one of his tiddies and squeeze.
“Yeah, they are.” You say as you use your other hand to guide his chin to make him glance down. “Look at them, Jay. Aren’t they pretty?”
His face is red at he looks down at his chest, his breath catches in his throat as he takes a proper look, full of hickies and bright red bite marks from your previous ministrations. Your grinding isn’t helping at all. He might come in his pants if you keep that up. He moans as you keep up with your actions. Curious if you could get him to cum from just touching his chest and light pressure on his groin.
A reedy sound brings you back to the present (the color on his chest from your attention was distracting.) Lost in your thoughts from admiring your work. He looks mesmerizing. Eyes dilated so much that you can barely spot the teal of his irises, his eyes appearing almost completely black. His face is practically the color of his helmet, it’s almost impressive. Shudders leave his body as he completely sinks back onto the couch.
You use the hand that grasping his chin to point it to the side as you lean in to leave more bruises on his neck, your grinding unfaltering. His moans increase in volume as you bite and suck on his sweet spot right at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
The hand that’s on your waist twitches, his mouth opens in a silent moan as he gasps loudly while throwing his head back on the back of the couch as he gives a full body shiver, cum staining the inside of his pants.
You stop your actions as you take a minute to admire the fucked out look on his face.
You lean your face close his ear as you say, “Think your tits are pretty now, Jay?”
He shivers from the air brushing against his ear. He nods with a quiet whine, sounding out an almost inaudible “uh-huh”, unable to get any more words out.
You grin in victory, “There you go.”
“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
I think I went over board. It was only supposed to be a few sentences long.
Didn’t even know I could write like that.
Anyway! Hope that answers your question!
#x reader#jason todd x you#dc red hood#jason todd scenarios#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#dc x reader#dc comics#jason todd smut#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x gender neutral reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red hood#dc jason todd#dcu comics#dc smut#red hood smut#sub!character#jason todd#jason todd x oc#jason todd x male reader#jason todd x gender neutral reader#red hood x male reader#red hood x oc#red hood x y/n#dcu#dc universe#smut
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You've been kidnapped by the local butcher and he convinces you he's going to fucking eat you.
Dark!Ghost x fat fem reader drabble
CWs: dead dove, rape, dehumanization, gaslighting, bondage, undiscussed kink(?), animal play(?), threats and talk of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism
(A tidied up and extended ramble I subjected @391780 to on anon. Inspired directly from their post where Butcher!Simon draws a diagram of beef cuts on you.)
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It’s pretty immediately obvious he’s a murderer. He’s probably a serial killer for all you know.
In reality, Simon doesn’t consider himself a serial killer, despite his body count. He’s just someone who doesn’t have qualms dealing with nuisances. He’s a retired vet, after you’d killed enough people, what’s a few more?
No, his kills were just business, practical. They were men who made the mistake of getting in his way, of being inconvenient. Most, anyway—there’s at least one or two whose only crime was being an especially annoying cunt. Sometimes, some people “jus’ need killin’”.
As a butcher, he does find the implication funny, but no, he’s not eaten any of the scum he’s off’ed. “Don’t serve ‘em up to customers, neither”. After all, Simon’s got far higher standards than that. They weren’t even fit for dog food and he has a reputation to uphold. No one can compete with his quality.
No, you’re nothing like them. You’re special.
Never in his life had he seen a prettier creature—and you’re absolutely prime. He’s salivating just looking at you, plump and oh so soft. He can see it in the way your skin wobbles gently as you move about. Simon couldn't find a straight line on you. And he’s looked. He’s been transfixed watching you, aching.
You live your life meandering obliviously, no brand in sight, not even a tag on your ear. He's surprised no one else snatched you up. Poor thing left to fend for itself ‘s cruel. Nothing else to it.
Wrangling you was simple, it’s not like your large form actually offered you anything towards your defense. It was easy, really. Your lack of instincts was staggering, it was even more shocking that you lasted this long, he almost couldn’t stop himself from laughing.
You were clueless to the danger, even when it was directly in front of you, it only endeared you to him. Your eyes roved over him, not paying him any mind, just carrying on about your undoubtedly inane business. Only when he was on you and it was too late did you start to kick up a fuss.
The look of panic on your face was just priceless. All this crying and babbling nonsense like, “What are you doing?!” and “Stop!”.
Simon's main concern was not damaging you too much, he was careful. Just a single huge bicep around your neck and any fight you had seemingly evaporated with fright. You're bent over in a headlock, his grip as rigid as a pillory, but he’s not applying enough pressure to actually choke you. You’re just forced helplessly to come along or be dragged.
Not that it would have mattered if you were too wild to be led, he would simply tighten his hold, and allow up a quick nap. He’d pull out the dolly, load up the truck and be on his way.
On the big stainless steel work table the metal stings you even through your clothes. Unfortunately for you, even that scant protection doesn't last. The sight of the shears was enough to paralyze you again, and with a handful of strategic snips, Simon rips your last vestiges of humanity from you. All your skin transforms to gooseflesh, shivering on the table, but your nipples is where his roaming gaze finally settles.
He’ll have to remember to adjust the heat later. After all, “‘s a bit early to start chillin’ you”, he’d chuckle. You were a bit of silly thing, he thought. Maybe it’d be a minute till you’d actually catch on.
You're his little prize. Simon will coddle you, give you plenty of softness and warmth. You’ll not want for blankets, pillows, and other such treats, but not a stitch of clothing will ever touch your skin again. There would be no hiding your nakedness.
“Clothes? Clothes ‘re for people, what y’ need clothes for?” he scoffed. You don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s a question, because he doesn’t want you to answer. A dog doesn’t answer “who's a good boy?” does he?
He’s measuring you, jotting things down. You think distantly that the pencil looks puny in his fist. While he's at it, he's feeling and squeezing every inch of you. You’re groped and prodded like some saran wrapped package of beef at the grocery store.
Only when you think there’s finally a reprieve, you’re being hogtied. You’re trussed up in practically half a roll of twine, fat bulging between the strands, desperate to escape its bite. Simon says it looks good on you, can’t resist taking one of your new little rolls between his fingers, giving you a teasing pinch. You struggle of course, but the terrifying man commands you to “Settle”, says the only thing your fussing will get you is rope burn.
He claps you on the ass affectionately, assuring you that the scratchy string is only temporary. He knows a guy for leather, does good work. All hand stitched. Simon will have a proper harness made for you. Something with a lot of d-rings. It will be more comfortable for you and he can situate you how he likes with minimal bruising or chaffing.
As he admires your skin, he’ll remark offhandedly that he’ll have to ""'ave somethin' from you" too. He’s not usually one to bother, but it’d be a travesty to waste hide like yours. Couldn’t find more supple could y’? He hasn’t decided what’ll be yet, he’ll need to do some maths to figure out how much material you'll make. Behind his mask and the façade of impassivity, he savors your reaction. That’d be about the first time your consciousness flees from you.
Simon will lay it on thick, praise how "well-marbled" you are. Delectable. So plump and well-fed, you can't blame him for any of this, really. He'll say something about kobe beef and taking good care of you. He’ll massage you daily, knead every inch of you between his huge oiled hands. He'd take his time, temple t' toes. You couldn’t get a knot in a muscle if you tried.
Your more delicate bits don’t escape his tender ministrations either. He takes painstaking work in rubbing your insides down with thick fingers, wringing orgasms from you until you're limp and still as the rest of the meat in his shop. Says it’s good for the flavor, will make you even sweeter.
It’s all completely horrifying, it has to be a nightmare. He says all this so casually, like he’s telling you the time of day. This man is truly completely deranged.
His hands are always on you, it’s never fucking ending. He's taken it upon himself that you never “exert” yourself and you have no choice in the matter. Bastard won’t even let your hands free to eat or bathe. He "grooms" you. Brushes your hair, trims your nails, cleans your teeth, brushes, lathers, rinses, dries, moisturizes your skin. It’s humiliating and you hate every second of it.
The juxtaposition is too much, the horror and absurdity of it all. All the restraints and manhandling, your looming demise, while insisting on soft surfaces for you, water temperature just right, food carefully curated and cut up just so. He won’t let anything happen to spoil the meat.
He doesn’t spare any expense on your “feed” either. You eat what he eats, might as well be eating off his plate. Albeit simple, it’s good food, you don't see a point in denying it. It's fresh and flavorful and to no one’s surprise it includes a lot of meat. Always from his shop of course, only the best for you.
He’ll bring out some new parcel every night for dinner, unfolding the brown paper wrapping, holding up to you to admire his work. “‘S a ribeye”. He goes on about the marbling, the even color of the meat. “Couldn’t find fresher” he’d say, "was only jus' bleedin' this mornin'".
You’re his captive audience. There’s nothing else you can do but warily watch him make dinner, even if seeing a blade in his hand gives your heart palpitations. Steak, sautéed mushrooms, jacket potatoes, roasted broccoli.
You’ve long since stopped fighting him when it comes to meals. Because it can always get worse. After being bent over on the floor, forced to eat off a dish without the use of your hands, you’d resigned yourself to the fact that eating off his fork was a sufferable compromise. Still, if he’s in a mood he won’t even allow that. You'll eat off his fingers, and he’ll laugh at your expense and chide you when you inevitably “make a mess”.
The food was prepared, but this time the kitchen knife didn’t leave his grasp. It wasn’t a steak knife. It was too big and not serrated, but that didn’t seem to bother Simon. It certainly bothered you. Its presence loomed like a guillotine in your peripheral.
He feeds you bites between his own. Every mouthful and he looks so pleased. You desperately missed his mask at meal times. At least then you couldn’t see his smug fucking face.
On the plate the steam billows and curls. The meat gives easily under your molars, practically melts in your mouth. Hot and rich and juicy, it’s basted in butter, with garlic cloves and sprigs of rosemary, seasoned with cracked peppercorn and flakey sea salt. It’s a touch rarer than you’d like.
You wish you were capable of escaping the horror of it all for even a second, pretend you were anywhere else, with anyone else.
Simon punctuated his first bite with a low rumble of approval, watching you with those dark, cavernous eyes. He’d continued in that way, a man content in silence.
”...you'll taste better.”
He waited until your last bite to say it, maybe that was mercy on his part. The meat transformed in your mouth, became sinewy and bitter. You couldn’t swallow, and went to spit it out. But he expected that apparently, was on you in a second. Giant rough hand sealed over your lips, practically enclosing the bottom half of your face, smooshing your cheeks up into your eyes.
“Chew.”
It takes longer than usual, but you try to obey. His hand hasn’t moved from your mouth.
“Swallow.”
His eyes move from yours to your neck, his thumb grazing your throat lightly, tracing the bite’s trajectory as you force it down. His eyes are back on you then.
With Simon’s free hand he deftly pierces the last drippy morsel off the plate with the knife, popping it between his scarred lips. The hand still on you moves, migrates to cup your jaw, gradually starting to squeeze. You don’t have any fight left and open before it becomes painful.
Fear paralyzes you again, when he brings the knife towards you.
The movement is slow, as if he’s actually concerned about frightening you. He’s holding it longwise, pointed off to the side.
Then it’s on your tongue.
He drags the flat of the blade’s length across the trembling muscle, leisurely, only moving it away to flip it and clean the other side, myoglobin discarded on your tongue
“They’ll say ’m ‘spoilin’ ‘er rotten’. Eatin’ off my own plate, sleepin' in my own bed, warm under my roof. Keepin’ you safe indoors. Such a sweet, tame thing, are you?”. He strokes your cheek, wiping at a drip at the corner of your mouth with a thumb before popping that in his mouth too.
Whenever Simon’s put up enough with your smart mouth, he enjoys the look of your wide wet eyes and your trembling lips stretched around a padded ring gag.
The sounds you make when gagged are special little nonsense noises, almost like you're trying to talk like a person would. Sweet, pitiful sounds. He also loves when wet, choked sobs that cascade out of your open mouth, forcing you to drool. “You’re so messy, sweet’eart. Nose runnin’, too.” Says you're leaking from practically every hole. Eyes, nose, mouth, cunt.
Sometimes, you might almost be fooled into thinking he feels sorry for you in those moments when you're hyperventilating and hysterical, or wailing so mournfully. He always hushes you when you're crying, pets and hold you, dries your face, as if he’s not the cause of your tears. Despite how much Simon adores the taste of them, adores the soft jingling of the little cow bell tied ‘round your throat when your whole body quivers with sobs, the stress will sour the meat. He’ll say as much, but surprisingly it doesn’t help calm you down.
If it was necessary, he's not opposed to sedation. After all, he's done the research to find one that won't affect your flavor. But most of the time, his solution to your despair is yet another thorough fucking. Dopamine to counteract the stress.
Simon forces the orgasms out of your body as easily as he forces his cock into it, you're utterly helpless to stop either. His livelihood is working with his hands and unfortunately he’s damn good at it. When all's said and done and you're spent, he’ll lightly chastise you for working yourself up, for fussing.
He loves the heft of you in his hands, weighs your heavy tits in his palms, grips your ample belly. Simon can't resist taking mouthfuls of you into his mouth, worrying your supple fat with his incisors. Your tits, ass, thighs, arms, belly, back fat, hell, your double chin. It doesn't matter, any squishy bit of you. You're always afraid he might be getting impatient, that he’ll take a bite out of you, but he never does. Simon says he's just sampling, maybe tenderizing you a little.
His favorite taste of yours is still between your legs. He has you thank him for being so careful there. Past you inner thighs and plump mons, the pressure of his teeth yields, feeling barely a graze.
He likes putting mirrors in front of you, says he wants you to see how lovely you are. Your hands are clipped together, chain snagged in one of the shop's many meathooks, just low enough that you don’t strain your shoulders or quite have to stand on your tiptoes.
He directs you to watch, popping the lid off of a permanent marker with a squeak.
He maneuvers you this way and that as he works, dragging the marker down your body. His lines are surprisingly clean considering his canvas is such a pliant, organic shape. Hand are as steady as a surgeon. The marker tickled terribly on skin, the ethanol smell burning your nose, making it hard to think.
It only took a minute to recognize what he was doing. Your skin itches under the felt tip. You flail, trying desperately to smear it, to muss his work, but the ink dries too quickly.
Simon wouldn't let you keep your eyes closed, so in that moment you were grateful for the onslaught of tears blurring your vision somewhat.
That day, he showed you all your different cuts, as if you cared, as if you were together enough to pay attention.
Chuck, rib, loin, sirloin, rump, round, flank, plate, brisket, shank.
He tells you which are his favorite. Tells you which of his mates he’ll have over to enjoy you, ponders what pieces he’ll think they’ll like best. How to cook different cuts to get the best effect, that some cuts are naturally tougher and have to be cooked slowly, while the other cuts are tender and fatty, can be cooked at a higher temperature, quicker.
From the very beginning, he’s referenced the “Big Day”.
He’ll ask if you're excited over the shinnnnk of a knife against a whetstone. Simon always keeps his tools in order, clean and sharpened expertly, but he thinks he'll polish them up extra shiny for the occasion. To a mirror finish, so you can see yourself. You're so beautiful, it'd be a cryin' shame for you to miss it.
It’s been months now you’ve been with him and the day never comes.
...
You didn't dare question it.
But if you did, Simon would just chuckle, amused that you're so eager. Maybe he'll say that he decided he wants some milk from you instead.
#i love that this is the first thing i've ever posted publicly and it's this abomination#now i need something soft with Ghost as a form of pseudo aftercare#this is a sick fuck dark/horror version of Ghost and isn't intended to be canon accurate#dead dove do not eat#both reader and author are fat#I don't know how to write accents#egregious abuse of quotation marks and italics#dark!Ghost#dark!Simon Riley#call of duty#Silmon Riley x reader#Ghost x reader
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source of today’s pain: i bought a dvd driver but my joy at having it was short-lived: it turned out that it needed to have two cables plugged to work (my new laptop only has One USB Hole), and when i tried that with my old laptop (possessing Three Holes) it still didn’t work. :’(
#shrimp thoughts#WAIT FOR ME P&P...!#also today i went to visit my father (together with my aunt) and when we were Chillin a nurse walked in and said One Visitor Per Patient!#15 Minutes Only! and i fully understand that they already have it rough -- it's a hospital! during a pandemic! but also. REALLY.
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