#volume russe

[sonia-italia]

-35% sur les bouquets de cils préfaits !

[nevesmose]

The demand for a range of appropriately-weighted primarch body pillows has been clearly articulated by my mutuals and in this business plan I will (continues for 94 pages)

[sysig]

Mwah mwah mwah kissy kissy demon friend (Patreon)

[solspina]

Omission in Angelism

Luis Dante ⋆˙⟡

a short blurb inspired heavily by a thread by @lemon-russ and @squishyowl that i came across earlier! this isn’t proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes :)

trapped within an endless and grotesque night terror, dante is forced to watch the worst of his fears spring to life. fear reveals his deepest secrets to him, and he may only come to terms with them within the waking world.

warnings: very gorey in the beginning, lots of blood, graphic descriptions of a very bloody environment, reverse hurt/comfort

the pulpy floor seemed to yield with every step dante took forward. blood splashed onto the golden calves of his armor with every sickening squelch the ground made, occasionally accompanied by the snapping and cracking of fragile and decayed bones. trapped pockets of air were released from the endless heap of flesh beneath his feet, emitting muffled gurgling in their wake. the air was thick with the stench of rot and putrescence, and it pooled in his throat with every shallow breath.

this was no battlefield; he had walked through those before and come out relatively unfazed. he had seen the bodies of his brothers, and been able to identify each one by their faces and mourn them as individuals. that wasn’t the case this time. instead, each face engraved into this unholy amalgamation of human meat was indistinguishable. if he looked hard enough, he could make out the shapes of different body parts. hands, feet, arms, faces here and there, all cauterized together into an unholy organic mixture.

and yet he pressed on.

he seemed to walk for what felt like days, each step a thousand pounds heavier than the last. the crimson decay had began to absorb into his armor, soaking his feet with flesh and blood that clung to the elegant gold like it were simply white fabric. with each stain upon him, it spread its will to engage in coalescence with him, to unite him with its rot. voices had begun to speak to him, but they spoke only of his failures, the ones that drove daggers into his soul like knives. “you need to apologize” they hissed at him. “you will never be forgiven” they echoed. “the angel is gone” they declared. “you have nothing left” they told… no, reminded him.

in the beginning, they were merely haunting whispers, barely audible over the squelching under his footsteps, growing louder and more insistent as he limped into the endless unknown every step he took amplified their presence until, their volume had begun to drive him insane, for they whispered even as they screamed curses at him. they spoke of unworthiness, of guilt, of life.

“dante…”

every noise around him ceased as he heard her voice, choked and raspy behind him. she was no illusion.

sanguinius wasn’t either.

crimson red poured down from her lips like a waterfall as she choked. the angel sat behind her, one hand wrapped tightly around her throat, and the other steadying himself on the ground as he buried his teeth deep into her neck, taking pleasure in her pained whimpering and desperate gasps for air, each sound of suffering a symphony to his ears. her body convulsed from every attempt to breathe, but only blood could escape from her mouth when she exhaled. sanguinius’ fingers dug into her soft skin, undoubtedly breaking the flesh open as red poured from where his nails penetrated it.

he smiled upon noticing dante, upon witnessing his son fall to his knees in desperation as he reached a hand out to touch her, his eyes reflected nothing short of misery upon seeing his personal serf’s skin turn pale and limbs lay limp in the grasp of the angel.

“no…” dante pleaded, his voice trembling with fear and desperation. he knew his pleas would fall on deaf ears, but he could not stop himself. “father please,” he choked out as tears began to flow from his eyes. they streamed down his face, mingling with the blood and grime that covered him in a thick film of the disgusting thing that he walked upon. “she’s all i have left, father” he cried. his voice broke under the weight of grief and fear as he searched for any ounce of mercy within sanguinius’ eyes.

“dante…” she called out again in a whisper mixed with a whimper.

“please!” he begged once again, the tears now flowed unrelentlessly from his eyes. “i can’t lose her, my lord. please!” his voice cracked with each anguished plea.

this was her end. her eyes had finally began to close, and dante got to watch the life within them fade. the angel had only tightened his grip further, digging his nails further into her throat as he absorbed every drop of blood she had left within her. dante began to sink into the flesh amalgam beneath him without noticing. it grabbed him, even as he screamed while being pulled under and consumed. he did not focus on his own sinking. his focus instead on his serf and her final moments of life. “she means…” he pleaded one last time, his voice barely a whisper, too choked by both emotion and the hands around his throat for his words to be coherent. for the first time in his life he wished that he could live a little longer, if only to save her. “everything to me.”

silence had finally befallen him.

“dante?”

“dante!”

she screamed out his name as he jolted awake. he gasped for air, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. the sensation that he was being strangled remained fresh on his neck, his breathing was fast and erratic, each attempt a desperate attempt to fill his lungs as he trembled. his mind still situated on a reality in which she was gone.

no. she was here. she sat in front of him on his bed, holding a cold towel to his head with one hand and wiping his tears with the other. he had cried in his sleep, his fears expressing themselves even outside of his nightmare.

“dante, are you okay? i heard you crying from my room and i-“ he lunged forward without second thought, trapping her in his arms, enveloping the solidity and warmth of her body against his. his tears had begun to soak her shoulder almost immediately, and his fingertips dug into her back so harshly she knew for a fact they would leave bruises.

once her shock had faded, she too held him tightly, her heart breaking at the sight of her master’s anguish. “it’s okay, dante” she whispered, her voice gentle and soothing against the whirring of the flagship’s engines. “i’m not going anywhere.”

she continued to hold him as his heartbeats began to calm, her fingers gently stroking his back in a soothing rhythm. “you’re safe,” she murmured, her words a soft lullaby even up against the hardened exterior of commander luis dante. “we’re both safe.”

“please stay.” he asked, his voice muffled against her shoulder. she hummed in response, in the tone of a question. “stay with me… please.” his request highlighted the true volume of the situation. she and dante were close, and he had been vulnerable before, but never once had he openly asked for comfort, let alone asked to share his bed after one of many night terrors. who was she to deny her chapter master?

she invited herself under his blankets, the mattress already warm from dante’s few hours of sleep. the familiar scent of him enveloped her as she slipped under the covers. before she could even say goodnight, he’d moved closer. his chest found itself against her back, and his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly as if he were afraid she would disappear. he buried his face into her hair, inhaling the smell of her perfume as a reminder of her presence. she was not gone. she was here.

he mulled over words that guilliman had said to him a few days prior before he closed his eyes once more. the primarch was right. perhaps a serf was no longer a fitting title for the woman who lay next to him. he remembered his nightmare, the vivid image of himself falling to his knees, sobbing, panicking over the thought of losing her. she means everything to me, he’d told himself… told sanguinius… within his sleep.

if the only way of ensuring he got to hold the only person who could so easily ease his terror this close every night was by making her his wife, so be it.

[luboy7rt]

Trios You Would be in Within COD Ghosts Headcanons - (GN Teammate!Reader)

Note: These are Headcanons of what trios including you would be like.

(Includes: Elias Walker & Gabriel T. Rorke, Logan Walker & David ‘Hesh’ Walker, Keegan P. Russ & Alex V. ‘Ajax’ Johnson, Thomas A. Merrick & Keegan P. Russ and Kick & Neptune.

Elias Walker & Gabriel T. Rorke

(Pre-Federation) 

- In the past before Rorke was brainwashed, Elias, Rorke and you would indeed have been a trio. What happens in this trio? Chaos. Pure chaos, Rorke Is a stern leader, who keeps smugly bringing you and Elias into everything he does. You don't have much choice in the matter even if Rorke gives you a ‘choice’, you and Elias are going along for the ride.

- You three would be on missions together always, even if Merrick, Ajax or the others were There? You three always ended up grouping up together, sometimes separated from the group but you all always just.. pop up at the end of the missions.

- There is some funny moments involved with being in a trio with those two, like Rorke just says.. the most cursed shit (no warning involved, could just be random by just glancing at something and blurting out whatever he suddenly thought confidently with no regret no matter how cursed), Elias just looks unamused by it all and you are there either making it worse or better.

- Elias does look up to Rorke, you probably do too If you also follow his command. Rorke tries his best to be a good leader, he's confident in his skills and does try to keep his teammates, Elias and you safe.

- During battles, even if you don't need help or to be watched over by Elias or Rorke. They end up watching over you, and each other. You three always have eachothers back, but the two can end up being aggressively overbearing over the years. Such as: 

“Are you fuckin’ alive?” - Rorke would groan out over the comms everytime he loses sight of you.

“I don't know, – might be? Probably. They'll pop up sooner or later” - Elias would be quick to attempt to reassure Rorke that you were probably fine.

“Fuckin’ great. Might my ass. Get your ass over here..! The fuck you doing all the way over there!?” - Rorke when he spots you from afar, giving you a firm middle finger, wags it about so you could see it. (He won't care if he also gets enemy soldiers attention with that move either)

That's basically how conversations go, constantly. On field and off field. 

- Bar buddies, even if you don't drink. That's alright, but just enjoying each other's company. The other two are drinking but slowly. Elias drinks slower while Rorke would start slow but end up drinking faster and more throughout the night. (The walk back to base? takes hours of pure military stupidity. No common sense, just stumbling between each other giggling like children) 

(After the Federation)

- Things were never the same between you three, Elias and you drifted apart a bit, Rorke... of course wasn't himself. He hated you both but also had a deep obsession. Rorke makes snarky comments whenever he does see Elias and you, making sure you both know how you ‘betrayed’ him. Elias could never end up killing Rorke, that is his weakness, his regrets… and You? You have to watch it all.

Logan Walker & David ‘Hesh’ Walker:

- Being in a trio with these two is rough, Hesh is the leader, anything Hesh says Logan does and you follow. It's basically a big game of ‘we are doin’ this guys’

‘Sure.’ and nods in response. No questions asked.

- Play fights are a thing, off field only though. Where it's usually Hesh teasing or attempting to pick on Logan, like pushing his head down or elbowing him. Making Logan stumble into you, then you tripping over Riley and it just turns into a hectic ‘sparring’ match between you four. These are the moments Hesh enjoys most, just laughing and grinning with the people he is close with.

- You would definitely take a few road trips whenever there are no missions, it's a chaotic mess, the car volume blasting out songs, the windows rolled down all the way, snacks half open or half eaten. Riley in the back trying to ‘fight’ the wind to keep his face out the window but Hesh is driving a bit too fast so it just looks like the wind is assaulting Riley's face and making the dog do the weirdest faces. Logan gets some photos from sticking his phone out the window. 80% chance he drops his phone and you all have to take a U-turn to go get it back.

- Logan would gently bonk Your head whenever he walks by, because Hesh does the same thing to him. Even if you look un-amused, he just does it a bit harder to push your head down. Even if you start doing it back to him, it becomes a ‘battle’ of wills between you three, who could give the most head pats/head shoves. It's the way they show affection. If you don’t end up liking this habit? He just awkwardly hovers his hand over your head, like he really wants to do it, but also respects you enough to fight himself and not impulsively smack your head,

- Clothes go missing or get stolen all the time between you three, a hat? Shirts? Jackets, gloves? Any type of gear? Whatever is yours is also theirs and whatever is theirs is also yours. finding Riley flopped on top of a pile of missing belongings is the norm as Riley ensures to steal anything he could get his paws on too.

- You would get used to the way Logan and Hesh can communicate with looks, at first you would be like what the actual fuck? But over time you start understanding and using it too. The side-eyes, twitches of an eyebrow, when they bite the inside of their mouth. There are all ways to get the point across, sometimes Logan just blank stares whenever he thinks someone has said something completely stupid, like he will slowly turn to face you and just blank. Nothing across his face except a small eye glance toward the person before staring back at you and he knows you know what he's already thinking. It takes all willpower for Hesh and you to not full-blown cackle. 

Keegan P. Russ & Alex V. ‘Ajax’ Johnson

- Keegan ‘can't’ drive, Ajax can (Safer Option). But somehow, Keegan always ends up driving, you end up in the backseat and Ajax holding onto the car handle for dear life in the passenger seat. Ajax always, doesn't matter how many times he has been in the car with Keegan, glances back at you with a look that says are we seriously letting Keegan drive? Yes. You three end up surviving, Keegan can drive but it is also hell depending on the time of day and the mission. Keegan is relaxing when you and Ajax are having the adrenaline rush of your lives. 

You can't even suggest someone else drive as Keegan puts his attention on you instead of the road. Looking at you offended while Ajax grabs the wheel because Keegan is too busy giving you a nasty look with a raised eyebrow. Are you really suggesting he can't drive? He can drive, you want him not to drive? He's hands are off the wheel. But he laughs and puts them back when Ajax smacks him for that and he will go back to driving. No one brings up Keegan’s driving skills after that as Keegan… Doesn't seem to care how dangerous it is when he ‘stops’ driving suddenly. (But he does do his best to keep you all safe, even if he drives crazily he still knows what he is doing despite scaring you and Ajax)

- Have you ever seen two grown men (+ you) cuddle? Now you have. Ajax, you and Keegan probably have known each other for a long time, it started with Ajax and Keegan just sharing a bed. Keegan taking the cold side alone, Ajax not minding where he sleeps but it started off like this, You somehow joined at the right time and now it’s just the norm to sleep in the same bed. Even if it's not always cuddling (Keegan likes his personal space, Ajax wouldn’t mind though as long as you're not being overbearing). Keegan’s leg always sneaks over the two of you during the night anyway, like he's trying to ensure you're still there with him. This tactical sleeping habit ensures no enemy will suddenly take you three out (That’s what Keegan says anyway. You three end up referring to this as tactical sleeping habit in front of others, and never once do you all admit to what this actually means.) (Everyone else just assumes you three just never let your guards down and actually have tactical sleeping habits to ensure your safety, but nah its just the homies sharing a bed)

- Keegan randomly shit-talks people, just randomly shows up between you and Ajax he would be quiet for a moment, a pause of a moment to wait for either of you to notice him. When neither of you two notice him, he just starts talking about some stupid shit he saw a rookie do. Ajax usually listens along and maybe does encourage Keegan to keep going, because when Keegan starts complaining, he usually comes up with unique and hilarious insults that Ajax loves to hear. You are usually dragged right in between them because they also want to hear what you think and if you would also join the shit-talking.

- Pats. Pats are a big thing between Ajax, Keegan and you. Ajax walks past you or Keegan, you'll be on the receiving end of a back pat from him to just silently let you know he is there. Keegan would nudge the butt of his weapon against your upper back as he walks past or his knuckles brushing your lower back. Its juet small touches like these that you three would exchange often.

- They also head to the bar often, if you don't drink that's alright with them, you can be their ride home because they get absolutely hammered. It starts off easy, then Ajax makes a bet that he could do more shots than Keegan, then it gets competitive then you're hauling both their asses back to base at the end of the night.

- Ajax used to drag Keegan home for the holidays, knowing Keegan didn’t have a place for himself. He ended up seeing you at base one year before they left and dragged you along. You and Keegan end up meeting Ajax’s family and are invited every year until… Ajax dies. Sometimes after his death, Keegan and you would still visit to pay your respects and care for Ajax’s family despite the fact Keegan always turns down invitations to join the family get-to-together, he feels like it wouldn't be right to join when he 'let' Ajax die in his arms. (:Sorry)

Thomas A. Merrick & Keegan P. Russ

- Honestly? It's Merrick who is the most protective in this trio, he doesn't stand by someone trying to start shit with you or Keegan, he will just put his own body in front of yours or Keegans if he thinks you are in some sort of danger/trouble. 

- Keegan is a silent protector, he has yours and Merrick's back, always. No issues for him, he simply always ensures that you're both cared for under his watchful eye.

- Merrick always calls for you or Keegan to do tasks, he knows the other Ghosts could do it, but he relies on you both the most because he just knows he could always trust your judgment/calls. It's his first instinct to call for either Keegan or you.

- Merrick does take Keegan with him on holidays (Especially after Ajax's death). (Whoever said Merrick is definitely a widower I agree so much. I'm sorry I can't remember/find where I first saw the Headcanon). But yes, Merrick usually brings Keegan with him, and he would invite you along as well. Usually takes you both out for breakfast, or a small trip just the three of you. Merrick refuses to let you or Keegan pay for a thing, he just waves a hand at you and shrugs you off if you even attempt to while he pulls out his wallet.

- Picnics. Definitely between the three of you, just taking a moment to yourselves away from the constant chaos that is your lives. It usually just happens in silence, after a few hours. You would be laid in the grass together watching the sun set, then stargaze. During these rare moments of silence, it’s just you three. A rare moment of happiness just you three share, while Merrick calls out whatever constellations he could spot. Even moves his hand infront of your eyes to lead your eyes to also seeing it. Keegan ends up pointing out a few he knows from the last time you guys did this, making sure to remember whatever Merrick points out. 

Kick & Neptune

- Kick is the chaotic one in the trio, Neptune the blunt no bullshit guy and you? Are you along for a chaotic ride with these two?

- They will also judge others together. If you are not around they wait for you just to spill any dirt (they find alot of things on people that they shouldn’t know) they dug up on a poor soul.

- They definitely have some intel/technology talks. (Even if you can or cannot fathom what they are talking about). They don't mind to much, well Kick would try and explain it (if you can't understand still he tries again.. and Again.. and again) Neptune would just sip his coffee in the background listening, doesn't even offer his input even if he could help You understand.

- I can't think of anything of these two as they aren't very known but I just wanted to let you all know that I wanted to add them anyway.

(Might add more to this, might not. Thanks for reading)

[konigbabe]

lose composure

Author: @konigbabe

Pairing: Keegan Russ x fem!reader

Word count: 4k

Tags/Warnings: dom!keegan; nsfw; smut; dirty talk; strong language; p-in-v sex; unfiltered filth; oral (m receive); fingering; unprotected sex; handjobs

Summary: Keegan knew exactly what he wanted and as he led you through the motions, you reveled in the pleasure that he provided.

A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks challenge; K as in katoptronophilia.

masterlist • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

“On your knees,” he commanded; your knees on the ground without a second thought. Cheeks heating up, mind becoming foggy as all you could see and feel was just him. Starved for his attention, you felt your heart racing, anticipating his next move.

Water washed away the blood on your skin as you ran the washcloth in long strokes down the length of your arms, feeling the familiar bumps of the old scars on your skin, remnants of battles fought during the Federation war. With each gentle swipe, the washcloth seemed to bring a small sense of peace, washing away the worries of the day that had been gathered in the creases of your skin. Distant images of wounded soldiers filled your head as you moved the cloth in circles; scenes of soldiers laughing and crying out in pain, only to be replaced by images of despair as they struggled with physical and mental anguish until finally, each one faded away. It was a welcomed feeling, washing away the reality of the war, gaining a small sense of respite from the pain and sorrow it had left in its wake.

Stepping from the steam-filled bathroom, you saw his back facing you. Silent and calculated steps moved to stand before your dresser. You watched as Keegan unhooked the straps of the black holster from his thigh, putting the gun next to pair of knives already on the drawer top. He had to be here longer than you initially thought as you noticed his jacket thrown on the unmade bed. 

"You don't have any food in the kitchen," he stated as he turned his head in your direction. The tight fit of his combat shirt outlined the muscular frame and emphasized his broad shoulders; even though he hadn't pulled down his Ghost mask yet, he seemed completely at ease in the current situation. His piercing blue eyes, contrasting highly with the black of the mask and the paint on his face, looked deep into yours, daring to answer.

Holding the towel to your chest, you shrugged, “don’t really spend too much time here anyway.”

“Mmh,” eyes scanning your face, he watched a droplet of water run from your hairline to the swell of your breasts. He could feel the adrenaline from his recent mission still pumping through his veins, senses heightened to the maximum of their capacity; hands shaking, looking for an outlet.

“Wasn’t expecting you to be here today either,” your voice went slowly silent as Keegan’s body neared yours, eyes laced with hunger boring into your skin, heating the flesh without a touch. He didn’t have to talk; if he was here, in your home, you knew what he wanted, what he was looking for. 

You remembered his solemn promise; no strings attached as if signifying he understood that in times like these, when war loomed large beyond the walls in your view, anything more than a fleeting encounter would only bring on trouble and hurt, neither of which either of you were willing to experience by choice. Even as two battle-weary soldiers longing desperately for the comfort of touch, you both understood this without having to say it out loud. It was a sort of reluctant mutual respect, a hidden understanding that neither of you could express aloud.

“Wasn’t meant to be back so soon,” his hips swayed with each step as he walked towards you. The air in your room grew thick with anticipation as you stood there, waiting. His eyes locked with yours, speaking volumes though no words were said. The longing that you both felt was unmistakable, held between you in a suspended moment of time. Your heart raced as he drew near, your mind unable to do anything but focus on the moment, “but that isn’t a problem to you, is it?”

“No,” you shook your head as his fingers nudged your chin.

His eyes flickered between yours. Your hand tightened around the top of your towel, cheeks heating up, mind becoming foggy as all you could see and feel was just him. Your lips parted a bit, trembling ever so slightly as his gaze stayed even and intense on you. Keegan was never big on talking, avoiding small talk, and rather getting straight to the important; his work demeanor mirrored his personal life. 

The blue of his eyes glowed in the soft light that was spilling in through the windows, captivating you with his presence. As the moments passed, you felt the urge to reach out, pull his mask down, and capture his lips with yours. Starved for his attention, you felt your heart racing, anticipating his next move. Unable to move or speak, as if he had placed a spell on you, you felt entranced with his allure. 

The fabric of his gloves scratched your jawline as he moved his hand to the side of your face, leaving a longing sensation on your skin; pulling the mask down around his neck, you noticed a forming bruise surrounding a cut on his cheek. His skin stood in contrast to the dried blood around the cut; it was a sight both beautiful and heartbreaking. You felt something deep within your chest, something that pushed you to take a step closer, chest bumping into his, feeling the hard muscle move underneath the shirt. 

“Keegan, you’re h-”

His lips silenced your worry; hands angling your face to the side to gain better excess as he beckoned you into the doorframe. Trapped between the solid body mass and hardwood, your hands seeked the solace of his body. Towel no longer supported by your grip, you felt the chilling air in the room hit your naked skin. You could almost feel the warmth radiating from his heart to yours, melting away the coldness that had taken over you.

Keegan overwhelmed you with his domineering presence, rendering you obedient and leaving you feeling foolish. His firm hand glided along your spine, the other cradling your chin and guiding you. You were completely under his spell, no longer capable of giving any kind of resistance. His tongue swiped over your teeth. The taste of him and fresh desire mixed on his lips. Keegan’s hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his breathing quickened. The rhythm of his heart thumped against your chest, a perfect beat of togetherness. 

A groan of approval elicited from his throat as you pushed your hips into the bulge in his pants, your naked flesh making contact with the fabric of his fully clothed body. Your hand gripped the back of his neck, pushing his face into yours; the few days old stubble scratching alongside your lips. You could feel the fire within growing hotter, as it had been dormant for too long, waiting for a spark to ignite.

Sneaking your other hand into his shirt, your fingers raked over the thin trail of hair on his abdomen. His breath quickened as your fingers tantalized his bare flesh above his pants line. Pulling away from you, his eyes were wild, intense, and smoldering, daring you to make a move.

“Someone’s a little eager,” his gloved hand gripped the side of your throat, thumb sliding along the front of your neck, feeling the hard tissue hidden underneath the skin. Fingers freezing on the spot as you stared into his gaze for a moment; you pushed against his finger, thumb digging slightly into your larynx as your lips sealed at the flesh just above his shirt’s collar. 

“Want you,” you pleaded, your lips sliding over his exposed neck, “now, Keegan.” As to make your point clearer, you hooked your leg around his waist, heel digging into the back of his thigh to bring him closer; your hands fumbling with his belt for a split second before undoing the zipper of his jeans. Your fingers found their target, wrapping against the burning flesh of his semi-hard cock. 

Keegan could feel himself hardening, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and force you against him as his mouth crashed onto yours. His hands made short work of the curves of your body as he aimed to make you forget your own name for the night. His tongue lapped hungrily at yours, his breath interrupted with a moan. Letting out a soft chuckle, he kissed away the last of your battles, tracing his hands down your back to rest just above your waist as his heart burned with desire.

“Fuckin’ hell,” his breath hitched as you swiped your thumb across his sensitive slit, earning a feral grunt from the man before you, shooting straight between your legs. Heat radiated from your skin and the scent of arousal hung heavy between the two of you.

Leaning to rest your forehead against his, you inhaled his breath in. His eyes never left yours, pupils dilated with pleasure as you continued palming him, lips occasionally brushing over the edge of his bruise. The sensation of your skin against his drove you further into a state of heightened pleasure and ecstasy. His breath was labored against you as smiled against his lips.

Every touch left you feeling afire, surely draining you of sanity and leaving you feeling stupid with excitement. Keegan’s hands ran up and down your thigh before gripping your jawline in ecstatic bliss, pressing his lips even harder against you; the skin of his cock warm against your sweaty palm.

“On your knees,” he commanded; your knees on the ground without a second thought. His eyes were pools of deep blue, the intensity of his gaze almost enough to weaken your resolve. Taking hold of your chin, he ran his thumb gently along your jaw before drawing you in closer. His lips brushed lightly against your neck, making you quiver in anticipation. He knew exactly what he wanted and as he led you through the motions, you reveled in the pleasure that he provided.

“You gonna be a good girl for me,” he asked, voice low and taunting as his thumb forced your mouth open and slid inside, the fabric of his glove getting wet with your saliva. Laying heavy on your tongue, you wrapped your lips around his digit, sucking it in as he stared into your eyes and you could see the smugness in his face as it twisted into a satisfied grin.

“Thought so,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Keegan,” his name left your lips in a plea as your eyes flickered to his swollen cock, precum leaking from his tip. With an affirming nod, he twisted your still-wet hair into a ponytail, bringing your head forward. One hand smearing precum onto his crown, you wrapped your fingers around his cock and started stroking him. Keegan’s eyes closed, head tilting to the side as he let you have your fun. 

Placing a kiss on the side of him, your lips followed the bulging vein to the top. Lips sealed around his crown, you swiped your tongue around. With the collection of enough precum mixed with your saliva, you moved back, spit dripping from your parted lips onto his cock before smearing it along his whole size, earning a “That’s right” exhale from the man above you. 

The feeling of accomplishment washed over you as his words sink in. Lips meeting the flesh of his balls, you palmed him at a slow and steady pace with an occasional swipe of your thumb across his slit. Keegan’s body shivered under your touch, eyes fixated on your head before a loud grunt left his lips the moment you looked up, the sight too vulgar; your palm gripping his cock tightly, swollen lips trailing along his underside, eyes wide like a dove and starring straight up at him. 

Soon enough, you replaced your hands with your lips, fitting your mouth over him as you eagerly started to move, lightly sucking him in before taking his length as far as your gag reflex allowed. His scent filled your nostrils; rich and smoky like the lingering smoke from a campfire in the woods after the fire has died down.

A content hum vibrated through your throat as Keegan’s hips bucked into you. Your thighs clenched in a poor attempt to create friction while both of your hands were occupied. The sensation of pleasure coursed through your veins as your tongue swirled around his engorged head, Keegan’s breathing becoming heavier with every passing second. 

“Damn,” he rasped, the word barely audible. Looking up at him, the piercing blue of his eyes was overpowered by the darkness of his lust, as if his desire for you was so strong that it was consuming him whole.

His hips bucked into you once more as his gloved hand sneaked on your jawline, thumb caressing your cheekbone before a simple “stop” left his lips. Releasing him with a pop, one hand firmly holding him around his girth, Keegan brought you back up to connect his lips with yours.

The taste of him still lingered heavily on your tongue as his own tongue swirled over the tip of yours, making your senses spin. Head empty; senses heightened with anticipation. Lips connected in a teeth-clashing kiss, you followed Keagan’s steps. No sense of orientation as he maneuvered you through the room until the lower part of your back hit the blunt edge of your drawer. 

The ghost mask still wrapped around his collar, you helped him take off the sweat-and-dirt-soaked shirt; your hand landed on the hardened muscle mass on his chest, fingers lingering in the coarse hair of his torso. Years of experience left their marks on him; scars creating a map of resilience on the man before you.  

Your arms tightened around his built shoulders, chest rising to meet his as your aching nipples brushed against his skin, the friction sending waves of pleasure radiating through your starved body. He swallowed your soft moan as your body quivered in anticipation of the sensations that were to come.

Keegan's hand lingered on your spine, his touch gentle as he moved it slowly up your body, letting it rest on the back of your neck. He applied a firm pressure, gradually pushing your chest away from his, his hand then slowly gliding over your ribs, the subtle sensation of his thumb brushing against the sensitive nub sending electricity through your body. 

His hands kept exploring your body, an already memorized map of your curves and edges a guide to his movements. Sucking on Keegan’s tongue, a moan left your lips as his finger found its final destination, circling around your pulsating mound before you felt him put his palm flat over your core. Heat rushed to your cheeks; Keegan’s glove becoming soaked with your juices.

Your fingers graced the barely healed cut on his cheek, a hiss exploding from his lips. 

“Sorry,” mumbling against his lips, you withdrew the hand back on the side of his neck, nowhere near the injury, “didn’t mean to-”

Keegan dipped his finger straight into your heat almost knuckle deep, a strangled gasp mixing with a moan left your lips, no longer able to reciprocate his kiss. Vision slowly fading to black, Keegan’s lips moved to the corner of your mouth as you felt his finger advance inside of your depths, the rough material of his glove scratching your walls delightfully. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he husked, his warm breath adding fire to your heated skin. 

His fingers worked with the expertise of a sniper; thumb toying with the sensitive nub, the occasional flick sending jolts of electricity through your center. Mouth parted in a silent scream, a mixture of moans and his name filled the room’s thick air. The intensity was almost too much; yet you welcomed it. You welcomed the feeling of being so lost in the pleasure, unable to do nothing but let Keegan take you to paradise. 

“Gonna cum for me, huh,” his voice was laced with seduction as the rough stubble stung the tender flesh of your cheek, lips lazily brushing over your ear, “be a good girl.” 

Mush; that is what was left of your brain in Keegan’s presence. His words, luscious yet demanding. Fingers curled up in the heat of your center just right, hot breath fanning over your face as his lips traced your jawline. 

You didn’t even register him talking, the “turn around” not meeting your ears as Keegan maneuvered you to do as he said; that’s when you felt the sweaty flesh of his palm - he took off one of his gloves somewhere in the process. Forcing one knee between your legs, he spread you wide. 

Bracing yourself on the drawer, head thrown onto his naked collarbones, you allowed yourself complete submission as the speed of his fingers increased, building up into your nearing climax. His head rested on your shoulder, wet hair soaking the fabric of his mask as his lips brushed against your neck, tongue lapping at the sensitive skin before blowing a cold breeze onto the wet patches.

“Look at you,” his voice echoed in your head, admiration evident in his tone. 

Finally opening your eyes, you met your own gaze in the mirror that was sitting on top of your drawer; lips swollen and bruised, open as sounds of the pleasure Keegan was giving you resonated on the chapped walls of the old room, a faint black paint barely visible on the skin of your cheeks, remained of Keegan’s close proximity as he marked you with his own darkness, eyes blazing with desire, matching Keegan’s own. 

“Watch.” 

Following his arm, you watched as his fingers plunged into your depths, glove glistening with your arousal, paining your swollen lips; the final torch added to the fire within you as your hand shot to hold onto his wrist for dear life. Drowning in pleasure, Keegan’s hand squeezed your breast, fingers toying with your nipple. The room fell still, the smell of you spreading in the air like vapor. Keegan’s eyes, dark and lustful, shone in contrast with the black paint that decorated his face. 

Still riding your high, eyes blissfully oblivious to its surrounding, Keegan got rid of his glove, completely soaked by you; the rustling of his belt, followed by a thug dragged you back into reality. Looking into the mirror, you only saw parts of the man behind you, his figure looming in the shadow of your desire as you watched him pump his own cock, giving it a few tags. 

“Don’t you dare look away,” your hips beckoned into his, feeling the head nudge your abused entrance before his hands took a hold of your waist; positioning you just far enough from the drawer to be able to see more of him.

Bringing your hand to your aching clit, Keegan stopped your actions, “hands on the drawer.” 

Intoxicated with his voice and feeling painfully empty, you couldn’t help yourself. “Keegan, please,” you plead, his knees keeping your legs apart as he continued dipping the head of his cock inside your drenched and dripping walls, parting your lips just enough for him to easily slid inside; something he still hadn’t done. 

His nails scratched your spine as he eased into you, inch by inch, slow and steady, relishing in the sensation of your body expanding to accommodate him. Walls clenching around him as if you wanted to swallow him whole, you closed your eyes at the delightful feeling of your inner walls stretching to their limits. 

“Eyes open,” his voice demanded; your eyes shot open, a moan leaving your lips as you watched him bury himself deep within you, “liking the view?” 

“Mmh,” your brain unable to comprehend a simple response; you felt trapped inside your own desire, eyes unable to move away, completely taken by the sight of Keegan’s cock sinking into you until he finally bottomed out. Seated fully inside your core, you swore you could feel his head pushing against your cervix, the sensation so intense it send shockwaves through your body that had you arching your back against him.

He started moving slowly, both of you drowning in the feel of each other’s bodies; your eyes glued to where you were connected, watching his cock covered in your slick juices as he thrust back inside, angling his hips to hit that hidden spot, listening to your moans increasing in volume as he continued to build up your next climax. 

"Faster," you urged him, desperation rising, the pleasure built inside you as Keegan carried on with his measured thrusts; rocking into you steadily but fully each time. 

Nipping at your neck, eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he mumbled, “as you wish.” A near scream escaped your lips as, without warning, the man got hold of your upper thighs, hands squeezing the soft flesh roughly as he began to thrust into you with abandon; as if he was a man who had been starved of you for far too long. 

His hips moved in a primal rhythm, his breathing becoming more ragged as the intensity of his movements increased. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as you felt the power of his passion surging through him like a raging fire. You could feel his heart pounding against yours, as if it was a part of you, and you clung to him as you both moved together in perfect harmony. 

The room was soon filled with the obscenely loud sound of skin slapping skin, the smell of your joint arousal enveloping you, creating a cloud of lust around both of your bodies; the sound of your wetness greedily sucking Keegan deeper inside you, further intensifying the pleasure that coursed through both of your bodies.

Fighting the urge to close your eyes, you watch Keegan give into his own, his pupils dilating as he moved closer to you, his hand exploring your body as if it were a foreign land, his fingers tracing circles around your clit and sending spikes of pleasure through you. His gaze never once broke from your eyes, and you felt your heart fluttering as you felt the intensity of his gaze. His fingers moved faster, and you could feel yourself trembling as the pleasure intensified, his gaze never wavering as he sent you spiraling.

His name left your lips followed by a plea. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, eyes shutting momentarily as you clenched around him, “y’feel so fuckin’ good…heaven,” he panted, nails digging into your skin. His voice, rough and laced with desire; the feeling of his lips on your shoulder blades, the wet tip of his tongue drawing random lines along the curves of your back. You met his thrusts, hips bucking back, guided by his hand while the other worked on your over-sensitive nub, the feeling of pleasure blended with slight pain from the overstimulation.

“I’m gonna…Keegan,” you felt yourself nearing the edge, his gaze never leaving yours.

You could feel the sweat on his chest as your back met his body. He buried his face into the side of yours, lips kissing your cheek as his eyes stay on you through the mirror. Watching you like a hunter circling his prey; eyes firm and steady with his body betraying that demeanor, thrusts becoming more frantic, his breathing more labored, mouth tightly pressed against you. You felt the pleasure begin to build as you watched the man nearing his own high when he whispers, “cum for me.” 

Feeling the heat rising through your body, you responded to his demand; and found yourself succumbing to the pleasure that had been building up within you. Finally, you let out a cry of pleasure as you felt the orgasmic waves wash over you. 

Keegan continued rocking his hips through your orgasm until you felt him explode, the grunt mixed with a few curses almost too primal as his eyes shut for a moment, bathing in the blissful feeling; while you stand there, his cock shallowly thrusting his seed deep inside you, your eyes watching him in the mirror, burning the sight into your memory, never knowing when will be the last time you’ll see the Ghost at his most vulnerable again. 

“You’re too good to me,” he grumbled, hands enveloping your own on the drawer as he smashed his body against yours. A simple wet kiss appeared between your shoulder blades; a gesture he always did. A silent thank you. Show of gratitude, reassurance of this being a reality, you told yourself. 

“You should,” you breathed out, his cock still seated inside you as you felt him softening; gesturing to his cheek, you said, “the cut’s bleeding again.” 

[keesdarlin]

☆// coming home (MDNI, 18+)

info! keegan russ / fluff, established relationship + gender neutral reader

cw! n/a

notes! don't entirely feel like i did this idea justice, but i did my best for it being day 6 of this stupid respiratory infection. enjoy :]

5:24, his watch blinked at him. he closed the door softly behind himself, stepping into the house. god, finally home. it had felt like years since he’d seen this place; the cozy living room, the light of a brightening sky streaming in through kitchen windows. in reality, it had been 5 months (too many) of him out in the field and away from you. he was just happy to be back, to be able to wake up to your pretty face in the morning.

the tv was on in the living room, playing the early morning news with the volume so low he found himself straining to hear it at all. he stepped forward, starting to look for the remote when he saw you laid across the couch, hugging a pillow with a throw blanket pulled up to your chin. he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. without looking away, he felt around the coffee table for the remote and turned off the tv. hummed as he knelt down beside you, kissing your forehead feather-light. gently rested a hand on your shoulder.

you stirred in your sleep, humming and turning towards him. you yawned, arms stretching out under your blanket, blinking sleepily. “kees? ‘s that you?” you mumbled.

keegan couldn’t help but break out in a grin at the nickname. he nodded, knowing that you probably couldn’t see it in the poor lighting. “mhm, it’s me, baby.”

“hi,” you greeted sleepily. gave a tired smile and leaned in to kiss him. then you started to sit up, movements a little more hurried but still groggy. “wait, what time is it?”

keegan looked down at his watch again, more out of habit than anything. “it’s late. i’m sorry for waking you-”

“you’re early,” you mumbled, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch to sit up properly. “i was gonna wake up early, make breakfast…”

he chuckled fondly. dropped his duffle and nudged it under the coffee table. there would be time to deal with all of the unpacking later. “no, it’s okay, baby. you can still make me breakfast in the morning,” he assured you, tone light and warm. “for now, let’s just get you to bed.”

you hummed at the idea, letting him pull you into his arms and lift you. you rested against his chest, content to listen to the beating of his heart in his chest as he carried you through the house.

“you try to stay up for me last night?” he teased softly, thumb tracing patterns into the back of your knee.

“mhm. in case you came home early, but… guess i fell asleep,” you answered through another yawn.

“glad you did,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear. “don’t like you staying up for me. i’m glad you got the rest.” he nudged open the bedroom door with the toe of his shoe, careful not to hit any part of you on the doorframe accidentally.

another hum from you, sleep creeping back in on you. “‘m so glad you’re home.”

keegan smiled again, gently lowering you into your shared bed. “me too,” he whispered, giving you another forehead kiss.

he took a step back, but your arm shot out to grab for him, catching his wrist. “wait. where are you going?”

another smile as he knelt down beside your bed, holding your hand in his. “i’m just gonna change into something more comfortable, baby. i’ll be right back, i promise.”

you nodded, half awake as you watched him go to dig through his dresser. a moment later he was crawling into bed beside you, pulling you against his chest and hugging you to himself firmly enough to tell you how difficult the past 5 months had been without you by his side. “you don’t need a shower or anything?” you murmured, twisting around to face his chest.

he shook his head. “no. showered earlier. just wanna be here with you.” and now, with you against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest, all the exhaustion of the past few months seeped into his bones like water into sand. his eyelids grew heavy with the warmth of you against him. 

“i love you so much,” you mumbled. “no alarms for tomorrow. just wake me up when you’re ready.”

he hummed, lips pressed to the crown of your head. “will do. love you too.” and with that, he let the exhaustion pull him under, thinking about how much he loved coming home to a sweet thing like you.

[vintagerpg]

As is my tradition, let’s start off the year with some adventure gamebooks, this time from the Fighting Fantasy line. I’m going to jump around to some I particularly enjoy, starting with FF3, The Forest of Doom (1983). I very much enjoy Iain McCaig’s cover art — autumnal tones and lizard folk, what’s not to love? The interiors are by Malcolm Barter. After devouring so many Russ Nicholson-illustrated FF’s, Barter’s line work seems jarringly clean, but I like it and he actually employs a variety of stylistic choices that are grittier than they seem at first blush.

I probably enjoy this one more than it deserves. It is constructed on a loop, which is nice, because you get lots of chances to not succeed at your quest (which is rather dull — find the hammer, return the hammer) and try again, but subsequent trips don’t account for the things you’ve already done (like the monsters you’ve killed, for instance). I don’t really see a good way of fixing that problem, either, at least not without ballooning the page count. There are also a ton of items to get and use, but none of them are particularly exciting. And it might be a me-problem, but I can’t seem to find a genuinely optimal path through the book; there is always some need to retread. I don’t love that.

Still, it’s a literal walk in the woods, which is a delight after the first two volumes taking place underground and inside. I love the atmosphere of it, and the number of weirdos who are hanging out in what is seemingly not that large a forest. Not the most earth-shattering FF, but not the worst by a good measure.

[str4ngr]

honey [ keegan p. russ. ]

cw: suggestive, voyeurism, sex tape, masturabation, established relationship, fem! reader

requested by @thedoveesquire.

Spring cleaning, albeit summer, was more than necessary in your home. Especially since your husband had just returned, and to stay for quite a while, you really had no excuse to push off cleaning any longer.

You sighed as you finished up wiping down the bathroom tub, happily gazing at the sheen of cleanliness adorning the simple tile. Leaving the room, you realize your husband wasn’t where you had left him, repairing the hinges of his squeaky office door. The door moved with out sound, and you thanked Keegan under your breath, your eyes still fanning out to find the man. 

Behind you, the carpeted hallway led to soft sound beyond the familiar door of your bedroom. Your brows furrowed in confusions mind seeping with explanations as your lazy hips swayed in thought. Pressing your ear to the door, you listened with a strained ear as you tried to figure out the strange, quiet noises coming from a crackly speaker. 

Keegan was in awe. Complete and utter amazement as he stared at the video playing across his old laptop. His pants tightened like a vice as blood pumped away from his head, his mind completely engulfed in the video. 

An old one, one from the honeymoon phase after your wedding. Both of you fucked like bunnies for the following weeks after your ceremony, not as though that’s changed any. 

But, God, was it mesmerizing, watching the way his shaky camera-work captured your sweet skin, body spasming, audio muddled with the overwhelming moment of desire that thickened the air. Even with such amateur filming, you look divine; sweaty, naked, lear stained cheeks that led to lips puffy and red as your silky voice moaned his name like an angel. 

Peeking through the door that you thought innocently of, seeing your husband touching himself. Your panties began dampening, sticking to your flesh as your wide eyes watched the screen, enthralled by the way your bodies moved together in perfect them of lust. His volume was low, your straining ear focusing on his growling grunts as his hips slammed so perfectly into you. You swayed, imagining the same movements happening as if they weren’t on the screen. You breath was heavy.

So was Keegan’s. His struggled to keep himself together, biting into his lip to keep any noise from seeping past his lips. 

“Keegan…?” 

Your breathless voice, a low tone of lust bleeding from each word as your eyes met his, both filled with surprise. Keegan, being the bastard he was, grins, staring at you from where he was seated at his desk,

“Hey there, honey.” He sits up straighter, his pants not too fixed up from his previous moments. His eyes were dark with desire, gazing over your body, covered in skimpy pajamas as your cute thighs rubbed together, “come ‘ere.” 

You leaned against the door frame, mind spinning with possibilities as you gingerly approached him. You husband watched you, his hand not stopping its movement against himself. Flustered, almost shameful, you stand beside him, saliva building on your tongue as you stare at the screen, the video continuing to play. 

Keegan grinned, his resting hand slithering around your waste as he pulled you against his seat, lips pressing into your side,

“Wanna’ recreate this with me, honey?”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

thank you sm for the request <3

3 i'll also be writting a full fic for this but i'm a slow writer so... idk when its gonna come out lmao.

directory

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

Deja Vu ~ Russell Adler x Female Reader

{Author's Note} This was inspired by @alypink's recent Adler render where he's leaning against a muscle car AND HOO BOY that put tons of thoughts in my head about a younger Adler before he heads off to Vietnam. Reader in this story dated him before he went off to war and they got together again after the events of the Cold War game. I probably got some timeline stuff wrong but I did my research and tried to keep it consistent lol. A horrendous sinus infection has given me a short break from school as I start some medications to clear it up so that means more time for writing! Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this! I've got plenty of ideas for a younger Adler x reader series so expect more in the future! And let me know if you'd like to be removed or added to the tag list🫶🏻 I don't know if I managed to include everyone that I wanted to so please let me know! AND YES I'm using a Robert Redford gif because they're basically the same person in my eyes LOL {Tag List} @littlemissclandestine @alypink @mctvsh @adlerboi @deadbranch @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghostlythots @glitterypirateduck

Russell Adler x Female Reader

❌Content Warning: none❌

~ ~ ~

1965

“When are you leaving again?” 

Adler sends you a glance through dark shades as you pass him a bucket full of water. He takes it easily, hefting it with little issue while you had struggled to lift it only moments ago. 

“In a month,” he responds and splashes the bucket’s contents across the windshield of his car. “Higher ups are gettin’ worried about the increased communist presence in Vietnam so they’re sending in some troops. I’ll be going on behalf of the CIA to do some recon and see if we can figure out what’s happening over there.”

You knew that already. He’d told you half a dozen times before but he answered you anyway. He knew how worried you were about the threat of impending war, especially when he was being sent into the midst of it with little choice to refuse. 

All you can manage is a nod as you focus on sponging down the window opposite him. He notices your silence and rounds the car, drying his palms on his already damp tank top. 

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he murmurs softly as he grasps your chin and guides your face to look at him. You blink back tears and he wipes away the few that manage to escape with gentle thumbs. 

“Just gotta make sure the Soviets aren’t meddling in things,” he continues. “It shouldn’t take long.”

You nod as he caresses the curves of your cheeks. “I just want you to be careful.” 

And come back alive, you think to yourself. Come back to me. 

He leans to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I will. Promise.”

His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, one that makes you smile and clears the mist from your eyes. 

“Now, help me finish cleaning this thing before Sims gets here. He needs to see this baby in all her glory.”

You laugh, feeling your heart lighten as Russ turns up the radio. He bobs his head to The Beach Boys song flowing through the speakers and you promise yourself to commit this moment to memory. The glint of his shades in the sunlight, the shimmer of golden hair as he pushes it off his forehead, the movement of his arms and back as he leans over the hood of his car. The image is imprinted in your mind’s eye for years to come.

~ ~ ~

1982

Adler has changed, though your memories of him have not. He’s still stubborn as a mule with an envy-inducing sense of style and a love for muscle cars. He’s older now, quieter and less open, scarred both physically and mentally after his time in Vietnam. His most recent escapade involved a former Soviet agent who he refuses to talk about so you don’t push the topic. You’re just happy he’s come back to you.

“You gonna keep staring or help me clean this thing?” Russ says with a slight smile. His shades reflect the sun the same way they did all those years ago and you hurry to his side, upping the radio’s volume on the way.

Russ likes to talk about cars and so you let him, enjoying the sound of his voice as he guides you through the inner workings of the machinery before you. He's gentle and careful with his movements, and you notice the serenity in his features. It was one of the few times he was able to relax, a brief moment where he didn't carry the world on his shoulders. You know he's not perfect, far from it, but he deserves this temporary peace and you're thankful that you're present to enjoy it with him.

“Do you know that I love you?” you ask suddenly. The comment makes Russ pause in his work, gaze lifting to yours as he straightens.

"That so?"

You giggle. "You're supposed to say it back, you know," you tease, fully aware of his tendency to play coy with this sort of thing.

He brushes stray strands of hair from your face, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing your features. He was hesitant to touch you these days, fearing you'd be disgusted by his calloused hands, but you made it a point to remind him that such things were a sign that he had survived and kept his promise to you, even if it had taken longer than either of you had anticipated.

"I love you, too," he murmurs, his voice a low whisper, as if he were afraid to release the phrase into the world where it could be taken from him.

You grin and lean to press a kiss to his scarred cheek, hearing his contented sigh as his arms settle around your waist. You promise to commit this moment to memory, just as you had countless times before, adding it to the complicated collection of images and sensations that made up Russell Adler.

[starlightswordfight]

MORE ULTRA SPECIFIC RESCUE CORPS HEADCANONS BECAUSE I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THEM AGAIN YAY !!

not a lot because I don't feel very good but I really wanted to yap anyway

– shepherd doesn't get sick often but when she does it is catastrophic. happens once every million years and when she's down she's DOWN

– you know how some people have a stuffed animal that they've just had for literally forever and they are bound to it by their soul. yeah she has one. it is a dog and her name is rabbit, because that was funny to her when she was like three

– yonny has god awful handwriting

– I think they'd be a big lava lamp fan. looks ominous to him. they are, like, all over his workspace. he has more efficient lighting where he needs it but the lava lamps are really cool to him

– collin really likes minesweeper! he never wins

– he rarely feels genuine calm without underlying stress, so when he does he gets really tired really fast. will conk out. the number of times he's fallen asleep with next to no warning while with a friend is not even close to zero

– baking is a science! one that russ has mastered. he is like scarily good at getting the precision right. measurements, timing, everything

– do not ever ever ever give russ the aux. incredible mistake. he will expose everyone to his playlist and it will be so bad and he won't give it back

– dingo doesn't always have great balance!! stumbles and runs into things sometimes. this doesn't tend to fuck him up too bad but he does have a lot of minor injuries

– once bit directly into a lab specific pikpik carrot because "the normal ones aren't that bad" and he wanted to see what would happen. this was a mistake

– bernard is a fan of those glow in the dark stars and he put them all over the inside of the ship once and they're still there and like nobody can prove it was bernard but it was bernard

– he TALKS really loudly but he's very quiet when he moves around! people have turned and saw him suddenly in the area and jumped on many many occasions. bernard jumpscare

– pom hums to themself a lot idly! they just aren't talkative. they join in on the pikmin's songs, who don't instantly stop every time because pom is so quiet the pikmin don't always notice. poor volume control in the sense that they can't raise their voice too well

– REALLY good at not winning board games or card games or any games but they ALWAYS get second place specifically

[lemon-russ]

(Not warhammer)

Pros of sharing bed with bf now that we live together full time:

- holds me like a teddy bear

- sleep talks and hums little songs sometimes

Cons:

- sleeps like the dead but also is super restless so PICKS ME UP AND ROLLS ME OVER HIM AND DOESN'T WAKE UP like to the other side of the bed/ OFF IT SOMETIMES

You ever been woken from a dead sleep getting RKO'd??

- same problem but with rolling on top of me and resisting me pushing him off, inadvertently pinning me down

- and again with straight up kicking me off the bed

- clown laughter?? FULL VOLUME DEAD SLEEP BELLY LAUGHING IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT???

- the sleep talking and humming but when it's not cute it's absolutely fucking terrifying ESPECIALLY if im not actually in bed and I just hear sea shanties from upstairs of our 1880 house. Is it him? Or the ghost of a sailor??? Victorian child living in my walls???

- he steals Actual Primarch Leman Russ the build a bear wearwolf from me in his sleep :(

[keepscrollinghun]

yea 👁👄👁

[detroitlib]

From our stacks: "Mask of Mongolian Devil Dancer. Mejrabpom-Russ. This terrifying personage is a Buddhist priest attached to the great monastery of Usersky-Dazan, near Urga, in Mongolia. The mask he is wearing is the devil mask in which he takes part in the dances of the Tsam, performed at the Buddhist autumn festival." From Manners and Customs of Mankind. An Entirely New Pictorial Work of Great Educational Value Describing the Most Fascinating Side of Human Life. Edited by J. A. Hammerton. Over Fifteen Hundred Photographic Illustrations from All over the World - and twenty-Seven Plates in Color. Volume One. London: The Amalgamated Press, Ltd., n.d. (c193-?)