#pls send me asks to keep me company! 💕 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chadillacboseman · 1 year ago

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I respect your ability to make my dash so horny. can you pls explain Graves and Reptile to me in the least sfw version possible, I would like to be enlightened 💕

Sending me an ask like this is like tying a goat to a stake in a t-rex enclosure.

WE WILL BEGIN WITH PHILLIP GRAVES

Essentially, Graves is a tertiary antagonist in Modern Warfare 2. He starts out as your comrade, the leader of Shadow Company, a private military contractor. He is assisting Taskforce 141 (Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Price) and Los Vaqueros (Rudy, Alejandro) in retrieving American missiles that were captured by Russians in an attack on a Shadow Company convoy.

He betrays 141 and seizes Los Vaqueros base, imprisoning Alejandro and several of his men. Rudy teams up with Ghost and Soap and they launch an attack on the prison to release Alejandro and the rest of LV.

Then they all go back to the base and Rudy and Soap blow up a tank that Graves is allegedly driving, thus ending the game. BUT HE WASN'T IN THE TANK AND HE CAME BACK AS AN OPERATOR FOR WARZONE. Thus vindicating my delusional ass who insisted he was not dead for the last year.

He also says THIS during a mission, which is 1) an INSANE thing to say in front of other people and 2) so very on brand for this man.

Many people reduce his character to "ooh shadow man bad" but he's pretty complex tbh. He cares deeply for his men and prior to the (quite frankly out of the fucking BLUE) betrayal, he seemed to genuinely like 141 and want to keep them safe.

But, I digress. In terms of my horniness for this whitebread southern man..

I just know he fucks nasty and is sooooo arrogant. He makes you beg, makes you be on the verge of TEARS before letting you get what you want. He's fully clothed in his tactical gear, making you ride his thigh, telling you not to try and cover yourself up because he wants to look at you. He's crooning little Southern sweet nothings, telling you how pretty you look. Telling you what he's going to do to you, how he's going to fuck you. But he won't help you, makes you do all the work in getting yourself off. "You gotta do the work, darlin', c'mon." Calling you a good girl when you come undone on his thigh, catching you when you fall against his chest. Barely letting you catch your breath before he's ripping his tac gear off and pinning you to the bed. Probably leaves his gloves on when he fingers you.

Okay thank you for coming to my ted talk.

MOVING ONTO REPTILE!

Syzoth, known more commonly by Reptile, is a Saurian warrior. Saurians were, before this new timeline in MK1, a matriarchal society that could take a "raptor" form or just appear essentially human. A Saurian who drifted away from the influence of their matriarch would slowly lose the ability to appear human.

Throughout the years, Reptile has appeared vastly different across the games and movies.

I've been down to fuck pretty much every iteration of Reptile, because I'm not a coward, but this new version of him is HIGHLY fuckable.

His lizard form has a prehensile tail and, uh, a very long tongue. Interesting to note that in this timeline, his ability to shapeshift into a human made him an outcast with his people.

Banished for being hot I guess.

I maintain that he absolutely uses the tail and the tongue to his advantage. He can also essentially become invisible, which makes for fun in public. I know he teases, invisible mouth right on your ear, hand somewhere below your belt. Chuckling as you try to hide the creeping heat in your face.

#mk reptile #phillip graves #syzoth #Long post #ns/fw

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sxlver-sweet · 3 years ago

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Heyy bbyy 💕 can i ask for some Ran and Rindou lying in readers lap pls make it fluffy and soft😚Thank you cutiee💕

— COME LAY ON MY LAP <3

|| m.lists || taglist form ||

ROSTER . . . ran haitani, rindou haitani

SYNOPSIS . . . they’re insufferable, but deep down, they don’t mind being babied every once in a while

CONTAINS . . . swearing, mildly suggestive content on ran’s part

NOTE . . . your wish is my command, lovely <3 i need to stop writing so late at night. wtf am i talking about, it’s not even night anymore😭

ADDRESSED TO . . . @sanelly @kuroiza @dazaisusedbandages @florssils

“yep, the protagonist sucks.”

you sigh to yourself, eyes half-lidded and hazy with a cloud of drowsiness that makes the tiny font stamped to the page bleed together in an indistinguishable sea of black, a smudged watercolor painting of poorly portrayed emotion and dull character building skills. your fingers glide over the sallow, wilted pages of the heavy book resting in your lap. they dance and twirl precariously as you ponder all the ways that you would enhance the essence of the main character’s personality if you had the ability. but, you promptly grimace when you realize that you still have another half of the book to complete before you can critique anything thoroughly. your temple meets the glass windowpane to your left, the crystalline barrier wracked with vibrations from the constant downpour that rages outside. it’s been storming for hours now, foiling every attempt you make to fall back asleep with constant growls of thunder and brilliant flashes of lightning, and you’re sick of it.

you already knew that RAN sleeps like a man dead, but your boyfriend hadn’t even twitched a muscle when a clap of thunder threatened to rattle the entire apartment complex, much less than when you crept out of bed to search for something to occupy yourself. that’s probably why your soul nearly leaves your body when a flare of lightning illuminates a willowy silhouette looming in the doorway of the living space. alarm spiderwebs through your nervous system, spiking your heart rate and jolting your limbs into a convulsive dance that sends the book on your lap flying.

“motherf—ran!” you scold, recognizing his skinny-ass stature and the stupid grin that’s cast your way at the sight of your spasm. “don’t fucking do that! why would you...”

“i still don’t understand how you manage to be irritating at all hours of the day,” you rub the heel of your palm over your eye, lifting your head off the window. “no, it didn’t scare me. it just keeps me awake. so, i figured i might as well do something with my time.”

“then, i suppose i’ll have to keep you company.” ran sighs with faux disappointment.

“no, it’s okay if you’re tired. you can just go back to…” you shake your head as he nears you, only for your voice to be whittled away by perplexity when he settles into the vacant space beside you and stretches out across the cushions, draping himself over your lap in the process. you blink down at his tiny, self-satisfied smile, his head pillowed on your thighs and hands folded contently over his stomach. “no, get off,” you jostle your knees in a feeble attempt at dislodging him, “i’m reading.”

“is that right?” he hums, making no move to sit up. “but, if i remember correctly, you said the protagonist sucked.” your eyes widen at his cheeky reminder.

“you were there for that?” you inquire. “how long were you standing there?”

“long enough for you to have your staring-out-the-window-main-character-style moment,” he snickers. you immediately search for a pillow with every intent of smothering him, but he seizes your wrists before you can snatch up one of the decorative pillows. “such violence,” he grins up at you, unabashedly relishing the way your features pinch with effort as you try in vain to wrestle out of his grip. “you know, domestic abuse is a crime.”

“you are the last person that should be talking about crimes.” you laugh, pinching at his nose with the tips of your fingers. “now, if you could grab my book off the floor, that would be lovely.”

ran’s violet eyes flicker away from yours, lips pressing together as he mulls over your request. “hm… no.” any protests dissipate on your tongue when he lowers one of your wrists to his lips and plants a prolonged kiss to the inner area. your pulse hammers beneath his delicate, chapstick-softened lips—chapstick that you’re certain he’d swiped from your bedside drawer just because you’d instructed him not to. you feel your cheeks warm beneath the scorching intensity of his gaze. “if you want it that badly,” he challenges, the tip of his tongue barely flitting over your pulse point, “then get it yourself.”

“you—” your voice wilts at his suggestion, knowing damn well that in order for you to lean forward far enough to pick up your book, you would need to press your chest directly into his face. “no way. you’re not slick.” even so, your voice is devoid of any real venom, betraying the disfavored wrinkle of your nose.

“hm, i guess you’re stuck with me, then.” ran relinquishes his hold on your wrists, rolling onto his side with a delighted hum to press his face into your stomach. lean arms snake around your waist, and you find your smile softening at his brazen, childish antics. you smooth your hand over his hair, tucking the flyaway strands behind his ears with care.

“well, ‘s not the worst.”

there’s no reason he should be this heavy.

the thought skips through your brain on repeat as you stumble down the sidewalk, wheezes rattling through your lungs and steps unsteady beneath the ridiculous weight burdening your shoulders. you knew from the jump that you shouldn’t have allowed RINDOU to set foot outside the moment you noticed the rosy flush to his cheeks, the translucent, lachrymose overlay to his unfocused eyes, and the unnatural heat radiating from his skin when you pried away his hands to touch his forehead. it didn’t matter how adamantly he insisted that everything was okay or how his gait never wavered in consistency—it was clear that your boyfriend was ailing.

you’d dropped everything to tend to him. at first, the only resistance you received were sparse, quiet grumbles as you forced him onto the sofa and the petty gust of breath that he intentionally blew into your face when you suggestively tipped a water bottle to his lips and insisted that he drink something. if you hadn’t been masked, you would’ve whooped his ass left, right, and center, regardless of how ill he was. however, despite his insistence that he didn’t need you constantly hovering over him and that his sickness was nothing more than a mere cold, he had an interesting aversion to being left alone. whenever you would rise to your feet or turn away to swap out the lukewarm washcloth on his face, he would always ask you where you were going. it was quite a treat to see him burrowed beneath a mountain of blankets, only his head protruding to rest on your lap. his eyes had been dewy as he stared wearily at your stomach, eyelids fluttering slowly as you carefully threaded your fingers through his hair and murmured questions that you knew his head was far too stuffed with cotton to decipher. you could’ve asked him to propose to you, and he would’ve glossed over it entirely with a mumbled agreement. truthfully, he likely won’t remember any of this once his health improves, which means that you’ll have the absolute joy of witnessing him grimace when you recount how his snot stained your shirt and how he clung to you in his half-conscious state, wanting to be babied while you rubbed his scalp and lightly scratched your nails along his back.

things should have ended there. they really should have. unfortunately for you, rindou has never been one to easily concede. you two were supposed to go on a date today—a date that you two have been planning meticulously for days so that it would proceed without any snags or setbacks. rindou despises getting swept up in unnecessary situations and wasting time, and you just went along with his methodical planning because you wanted to spend time with him on a date that—for once—wasn’t either impromptu or treated by him as an obligation after you’d whined about not participating in the “normal” couple dates that your friends had boasted about. but, now that he’d contracted some kind of illness, there was no way that you two were going to be able to go on your date. it just wasn’t going to happen. you didn’t mind, though. you understood that it could be moved to a later date.

but rindou… rindou was another story. the moment you’d told him that you could reschedule your date for next weekend, he’d started struggling beneath the pile of blankets, claiming that he was fine to go on the date and that something as menial as the sniffles shouldn’t be enough to derail your plans. you weren’t having it, though. it had taken several instances of wrestling him back down before you silenced his little tantrum with a firm “we’re not going until you’re better.” only then did he yank the blankets over his shoulder and roll onto his other side to sulk like a child in his dark cocoon for a half hour until his stomach gurgled demandingly.

a couple hours later, you’d noticed that he was running low on medicine and started preparing to leave the apartment to search for more. rindou had insisted on accompanying you, even wobbling to his feet and carding his fingers through his hair to arrange it into some semblance of a tidy hairstyle. you’d tried to dismiss his demands and ease him back down onto the couch, but now that he had a grilled cheese and a bowl of soup in his system, he’d regained enough strength to make it clear that although he might not be in any shape to go on a date, he’s sure as hell going to make the trip to the corner store with you. you’d relented after your attempts to shove him back down failed miserably and your concerned warnings about how fatiguing the trip may be fell upon deaf ears.

if only you’d remained steadfast in your refusal to let him join you, you wouldn’t be in the situation you’re currently in. you wouldn’t have to be lugging your boyfriend back home after he’d promptly collapsed in the medicine aisle of the corner store. the fruits of your labor are hooked around your wrist via a plastic bag, the sharp corners of the medicine boxes spearing through the delicate plastic and stabbing at your chest with each rhythmic swing of the bag into your body. if that isn’t irritating enough, you’re incapable of making any adjustments because you’re too preoccupied with making sure that rindou doesn’t slide off your shoulders and crumple to the ground. he’s barely conscious and leaning on you heavily, one arm cast limply over your shoulders for leverage while you tighten a hand around his waist to ensure that he doesn’t slip out of your grasp. the only sign that he’s maintained some semblance of awareness is the slow, uneven trudging of his feet as he tries to keep up with you. his head lolls, neck slack, against your own, and you grit your teeth in frustration when you feel a bead of perspiration splatter onto the tip of your nose from where it had coalesced and dripped off his jaw.

never again are you taking rindou’s word for anything.

by the time you manage to haul his muscular ass all the way up to your apartment and clumsily unlock the door, your legs are trembling uncontrollably. your thighs burn, muscles buckling and spasming from excessive usage beneath rindou’s additional weight. your lungs ache from how desperately you’ve been pulling in oxygen, and your head is spinning from the consequential hyperventilation. your back collides with the door, slamming it in your wake as you collapse against the wooden slab and sink to the floor with the elegance of some ungainly ragdoll. due to rindou’s reliance on you to support him, he’s quick to follow, his knees folding beneath him as he slumps against you. you cradle his head in your lap and rest your head against the door, sighing with discomfort when you feel the intensity of the spasms and twitches in your muscles increase now that you’ve relieved them of their burden.

you don’t know when you dozed off. all you know is that when you regain consciousness, rindou is already awake and watching you through those narrowed, calculative eyes of his. you both are still on the floor, and his head is still reposed in your lap. but now, his formerly awkwardly angled limbs are rearranged into a more comfortable position better suited to the cold, undoubtedly painful environment. his eyes search your somnolent expression with a gaze that can only be deemed as unreadable in your weary state, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in what you assume to be perplexity. in truth, you don’t really know what the fuck is going on. you’re just tired.

“you’re a dumbass, you know that?” you grumble. “i hope you suffocate for what you made me go through.”

he doesn’t even flinch, the faintest of smiles ghosting over his lips. “ouch.” when all you do is roll your eyes, he continues. “so, why are we on the floor?”

“well, your stupid ass didn’t listen when i told you to stay home, and you collapsed at the store when i was getting you medicine.” you recall with a scowl. “i specifically warned you that the trip would be too much for you to handle—i told you! so now, because of your insolence,” you cup his chin, squishing his cheeks. his skin is still relatively hot to the touch, you note. all he does is quirk a brow and glance down at where your palm is pressed to his chin before quizzically returning his attention to your disgruntled frown, “i had to carry you all the way back home. you’re speaking a bit more fluidly, at least. are you feeling any better?”

rindou nods slightly. “yeah, a bit. my head’s killing me, though.”

“as it should,” you grumble, still upset about him having the audacity to pass out after he forced you to take him with you. “but, you’re not alone. plus, i got you some medicine, so it should ease up. my legs hurt like hell, and i’m pretty sure that i physically can’t stand up for a while.”

“oh,” at first, that’s all rindou says. without another word or even an apology, he shifts onto his side and scoots away from you so that his temple rests against your knees instead. you hum with surprise when he abruptly places his hand on your thigh and begins to slowly knead at the flesh with slender fingers. “here?” brain foggy with relief, you nod mindlessly. you can feel the heat from his feverish skin bleeding through your jeans, but it pales in comparison to how his massage is doing wonders for your tense, overworked muscles. it feels heavenly. up until this point, you don’t think you’ve ever received a massage from rindou, save for the few occasions where he would work his fingers against the base of your skull to soothe your headaches. but as you grin, humored by how effortlessly he has you melting into the rhythmic presses and drags of his fingers, you decide that this needs to be more of a common occurrence.

“feel better?” rindou inquires. you nod, only to gawk at him when his ministrations promptly cease and his touch disappears. he freezes at the dissatisfaction scrawled across your aghast features, hand suspended in midair on its way back to his side. “what?”

“no, keep going,” you mumble, taking his hand in your own and placing it back on your thigh. “please, it felt really good.”

he snickers but resumes his massage. “have i ever told you how needy you can be?”

“needy?” your lips curl into a mischievous smile at the mere mention of the word. “you want to talk about needy? well, then, do i have a story for you.”

rindou’s taunting grin is wiped off his face in record time.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers ran #haitani rindou x reader #ran haitani #ran x reader #ran x y/n #ran x you #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #rindou x you #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers haitani ran #haitani brothers #cw: swearing

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