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moonfurthetemmie · 1 year

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Unfortunate Meeting of the DS Verses

Apparently words came faster than I thought. Warnings for blood and murder

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“W-wait! You’ve got the wrong-“

Ink sighed and clicked the handcuffs closed. “Look, if I listened to every random fuckwit who said that, there would be several actual criminals still running around and I’d be out of a job. Just shut up and save it for the people who care.”

The young man’s shoulder’s slumped. Ink didn’t care. Today she was just making arrests, and she didn’t get paid to worry about it. Something did feel off, though. It had nothing to do with the man being taken into JR custody, though, that much she was sure of. She’d been doing this long enough to know when someone was watching her.

Loved ones of people JR had arrested or executed, people who just hated the organization’s methods and took extreme measures, people who just hated police. There were a lot of possibilities. Nothing she couldn’t handle, though, so she resolved herself to just keep an eye out and carry on with her day.

She’d already found the people on her list, so she could either ‘stay vigilant’ and make sure there weren’t any wanted criminals in the area, go on ‘patrol’ or whatever, or ignore all of that and go take her lunch break early and just step in if she saw something going down. Naturally, she decided that since she’d technically fulfilled her given duties for the morning, and that she deserved to take an early break.

She kept an eye out as she followed Google Maps to the nearest Dunkin’, but while the feeling of being watched never went away, she never saw anyone suspicious.

There was someone who looked vaguely like Nightmare snooping around in an alleyway, but they were alone, had blue eyes and a scar, and didn’t seem to care that she saw them, so she ignored it. Whoever they were, they weren’t the one watching her.

She was almost starting to get worried, so when she got her coffee she decided to sit in the corner of the shop, with her back to the wall. She pulled out a notepad and pen to doodle on and blend in. She kept an eye on everyone coming through, watching for anyone who may be keeping too close an eye on her.

After a few minutes, someone in a brown and black jacket with the hood up came in. They stood off to the side, seemingly just looking at the menu and deciding what to order, but Ink’s senses were giving her a red alert. They didn’t take very long to get in line, and Ink tried to see if they were watching her.

She glanced away for one moment, to ‘focus’ on her drawing, and when she looked up the person had crossed half the distance between her and the register. Ink was so startled she watched openly as the person came over and sat across from her.   They took a long sip of coffee, showing off the tattoos on their hands. Muscles, anatomically accurate muscles. Ink couldn’t see anything under their hood, but could tell they’d kept their eyes on her the whole time. The set the cup down, and said, in a startlingly familiar voice, “So, do you have a different name, or are you ‘Ink’ too?”

Ink could see their eyes now. Grey and yellow, and still shifting. Green and red, orange and blue, and still shifting.

“…I- What the fuck, where did you even come from?”

The other Ink took her hood off. She was almost a carbon copy of Ink, with the hair and eyes. The hand tattoos were definitely different, though. She shrugged, looking completely bored of the conversation already, putting her elbow on the table and her head on her hand. “No clue. Just kinda ended up here while I was on my way back to JR after a job.” She glanced up at Ink. “You get any donuts?”

Ink squinted at her. “You were following me around.”

“Yeah. And. You got donuts or what?”

Ink rolled her eyes. “Shit, if all you want are free donuts, you should’ve come sooner and just stolen my fucking money. Get your own damn donuts.”

Her alternate sighed, swirling her coffee around in its Styrofoam cup. “Man, I thought this would be interesting,” she complained. “You’re just some Guy.”

“Okay, fuck you?” Ink clicked her pen against the table for emphasis and pointed at her alternate. “Who are you then, the fucking Duke of Earl?”

Her alternate snorted. “Oh you wish.” She took another big drink of her coffee, and taped it against the table. “Alright, actually, I think I need your help. I don’t think I’m the only one who made it here, and I think they’re around here somewhere. You mind helping me look for them? I’ll throw away your coffee cup.”

Ink eyed her warily. “Depends. Who do you think’s here.”

The other Ink shrugged, and lowered her voice. “Not certain. I think it’s one of my version of the Meme Squad- They’re still called that here, right?” When Ink nodded, she continued on. “Cool. They may be criminals, but I’d like to think of Error as my friend and as such I’d feel bad leaving them here if I could find a way home. Also like. Four heads are better than one, or…something?”

Ink tapped her pen against her drawing pad absentmindedly. She couldn’t see any reason not to trust this alternate. She didn’t seem any different, aside from some aesthetic changes.

She thought back to person she mistook for Nightmare, though, and asked thoughtfully, “Does your Nightmare have a scar and blue eyes?”

The other Ink rubbed her chin. “Scar, yes. Blue eyes…occasionally. They all tend to disguise themselves when they’re in public and they have a lot of colored contacts…Did you see someone who might be him?”

“…Maybe,” Ink said carefully. “I’m not sure. He was in an alley a little ways from here.”

“Oh. Cool. Where is it?”

Ink…realized she couldn’t give directions. She hadn’t been in this town for long enough; she’d only gotten to the Dunkin’ with Google Maps.

She grumbled and packed up her meager art supplies. “I’ll just show you. Come on. Throw my cup away, too, since you offered.”

Her alternate snorted and kindly followed through with her promise, and they headed out together. At least Ink didn’t feel like she was being followed anymore.

Her alternate had pulled her hood back up when they’d gotten up to leave, but now Ink could see her eyes darting around, watching everyone around them, like trying to decide if they were threats. Like, damn. Paranoid, much?

“What’s your multiverse like?” Ink asked, attempting to make small talk.

The other Ink’s eyes snapped over to her. Piercing through her like they could see all of her secrets. “…’S nice, I guess?” She muttered. “Seems like this one’s mostly the same so far. ‘Specially with you working for JR.”

Ink grunted in acknowledgment. She didn’t really have many more questions, so she stayed quiet. They were very near the alleyway where she’d seen that odd Nightmare nearly-look-a-like, anyways.

Her alternate went in ahead of her, and then grunted. “Well, they aren’t here now, clearly.”

Ink shrugged. “If it was your Nightmare, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to get out before I came looking for him.”

The other Ink sighed. “Given the circumstances, that’s kind of unlikely. He and the girls would probably be looking for me if they knew I was here, unless-“ she suddenly stopped, staring down at a dark spot on the ground. “…unless they’re distracted.”

Ink crouched down besides her alternate and shined her phone light on the ground.

“Aaaaaaand now I have to be on the clock,” she grumbled. “Ugh. I knew I shouldn’t have followed you.” She stood up straight. “Hey, do me a favor and make sure no civilians get here? I’ll get you your donuts later.”

Without a word, her alternate went off to stand at the entrance of the alley.

Ink sighed and dialed up JR’s law enforcement team. “Hey. It’s Ink. Yeah, so, there appears to have been a murder, unless someone on their period bleed all over the ground here.”

She poked around the site a little, just a cursory glance over for evidence. She couldn’t find anything, though, just thick wet blood along the floor and on some of the walls. Weird.

The guy in the phone was just as puzzled as Ink, until she mentioned her alternate. That freaked them out.

“What do you mean there’s another version of you?”

“What do you think I mean?” She deadpanned. “That’s not the point; she was looking for her multiverse’s version of the Meme Squad, and unless I misremembered which dank alley I saw that weirdo in, this could be that Nightmare’s blood.”

There was a long pause. Then, “I forgot you were out all morning.”

“…Yeah?”

More silence.

“Dude, don’t just go silent, did something happen?”

“…An entire wing of the castle in now under renovation. Three people, who we’ve deemed to be alternates of the Meme Squad, killed everyone who was there, save Finch, who’s currently unconscious in a hospital bed. It…..the bloodstains and everything aren’t…going to come out easily.”

Ink blinked. “…a whole wing? Before Dream noticed?”

“We’re not entirely sure how long it took,” they said darkly. “It didn’t take long for the alarms to go off, and they mentioned picking some off one at a time, but according to Dream they were laughing about how easily it was to get in and murder so many people before anyone noticed.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Ink, are you sure you can trust this alternate of yours?” The guy asked.

“You’re under the impression I trust any random stranger,” she said lowly. “But no. And now I trust her even less, which is impressive.”

“…We’ll get there as fast as we can,” the guy on the phone said. “Keep an eye on her, and don’t, yknow. Let civilians see the carnage yet. Even if it’s only a bloodstain.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Ink hung up.

The next thing she remembered was a sickening crack! and her head exploding in pain.

Then she blacked out.

#cw blood #cw injury #cw suggested murder #cw mentioned murder #cw uhhh no donuts ig. I feel like there needs to be more #can’t think of any though. anyways #DreamSwap Ink #H!DS Gouge #Horror!DS #Ink gets the worst right off the bat. don’t meet strangers alone kids #they might knock you out and kidnap you #also woooo this one workked #Originally I had it from Gouge's POV but I couldn't get it to go anywhere so I switched it up and off we went!!#ink'll be fine don't worry (lie)#can't be bothered to go through to edit it properly sorry it's 9 am i woke up at 8 and have to leave for class in an hour #which is five minutes in adhd time

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petrichoraline · 1 year

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i see those polls about the most hated tropes in bl but GOD i despise one which hasn't shown up anywhere - trading the main character like an inanimate object

this is common in straight dramas too - love rivals passing the main lead from one to another, making bets with the lead as the prize AND THE LEAD JUST LETS IT HAPPEN or takes the wrong side

makes my blood boil, i barely make it through those scenes

#i will knock you ave me a love rival OUT OF THIN AIR IN EPISODE 8 and hes been butting in for hours now AND THI NOT ONLY DOESNT OUTRIGHT RE #FUSE HIM NOR SUPPORT WHO HE LIKES BUT GOES ALONG WITH IT #GET A GRIP BITCH

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sheyshen · 2 years

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while i’m on the screw major companies kick, i’d like to add in an enthusiastic screw you to amazon, and walmart, but mostly amazon.

two of the major local grocery store companies that are in my town are merging because amazon is driving them out of business. (albertsons and kroger) I have my own personal grievances with albertsons from working at jewel for a few years a few years back, but i’d rather not see them go down because of amazon.

#you wanna knock jewel down a peg because of how they over work their employees and are severely understaffed? go right ahead #also that i'm sure they're still very underpaid because i was all three of those and that's why i quit #for context i worked as a florist there. where when i was hired we were a team of 3 but when one of us left they never hired anyone new #so it was 2 people running an entire department alone #i was working on average 60 hour weeks with no breaks and would have to skip my lunch often cause i had to run home to care for my mom #i was never trained as a designer even though they dangled the option in front of me constantly but just never signed off on it #but i was designing floral arrangements most of the day every day #i was doing manager work while being only an associate in title and they consistently refused to give me a raise so i was stuck at $8 an hou #i was sexually harassed and when reporting it to the store manager he told me that it'd be an anonymous report #and then proceeded to make the person i reported apologize to my face at work while on work hours #so of course now the whole store knew i reported him #i kept bothering both my lead at the time and the store manager to hire at least one more person for our team but neither did so #and when speaking about how i wanted better hours and a raise my lead at the time laughed it off saying she didn't get paid much either #so i ended up quitting #and when the store manager begged me to stay i told him i would if he would give me a good raise and better hours #and when he just went quiet i just said 'then i'm sorry but i'm not changing my mind'#the team next to ours had a really cool lead and he'd help me out now and then. the rest of the store thought he was mean though lol #but like all that? that's stuff i'd rather see jewel get hit because of. not because of amazon of all places

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invinciblerodent · 20 days

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god i hope it's possible to get Karalch her first upgrade in act 2 too, not just the second, because apparently when i reloaded the last time (because I was an idiot), I completely forgot to redo that bit before dammon would have left (because I'm an idiot)

and i was wondering why I had two pieces of infernal iron in act 1...

#squirrel plays bg3 #i mean if not this is just..... gonna be an untouchable karlach playthrough I guess????#because dammon is now 8 hours of playtime behind me and i'm NOT reloading AGAIN #i know you can still get her to the endgame either way #and i've already redone 6 hours of gameplay because of the “resting with Minthara only knocked out breaks the quest” thing #i'm just. i don't have it in me to redo the zhentarim again. and auntie ethel. and hours of resource-gathering and item-finding.#i'm just. not doing that #i'll just switch her out for lae'zel as my melee character so i won't feel so guilty

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applescabs · 4 months

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WE'RE FINALLY DONE WITH TACTICAAAA AGHAGHHS

#took us around 56 hours. which is between what i expected. 50/60 hours.#we're just glad its over and done with (for now. we'll revisit the dlc once we finish royal)#its honestly such a shame that it ended up being the way it was.#it was like. ok the entire first area feels like a way too long tutorial.#and then the 2nd area had some fun stuff but also felt like a drag cause they kept repeating themselves over and over again #in typical p5 fashion...#the third area was easily the best because it finally had good pacing between story and battle amount #and then the last area was like the last area in s frontiers were it was clear that they just. sort of ran out of time #and just decided to recolour some shit from previous areas to throw at you #the final boss battle was kinda nice though but unfortunately we were way too overpowered #on hard mode...? without grinding ever. ok then.#anyways shoutout to brigantine blitzkrieg. the only voltage move we ever used. used it like 8 times in that final battle.#shoutout to ryuji in general btw he was almost always in our team. along w yusuke and ann. they were the dreamteam.#also fun fact. whenever lavenza would talk with spoken dialogue we would straight up cut her off #because she talks terribly slow and we hate her <3 #also i like the style of this game. sure. but i feel like it actively worked against itself whenever it would get really serious #the boss designs in this game though? fucking phenomenal like they really knocked it outta the park w those #and every p5 game shouldve used the offwhite in the menus of this one instead of the bright white. my eyes thank the designer of this game #tedpost #tedtalks #and no way in hell ppl finished this game in 25 hours. shut the hell up no you didnt.

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hussyknee · 1 year

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i'm so confused rn, can you explain the goncharov thing?? i get off tumblr for five minutes

(Edits closed as of 28 Nov.)

Lmaoooo

Nah I getchu. So this post has been circulating for like two years:

Link to post.

But yesterday, it had inspired someone to do this:

Link to post.

Next thing I knew there were fake Letterboxed reviews.

Goncharov moodboards. Really good ones.

Link to post.

Meta analysis. So many fake meta essays. Disturbingly good ones. And of course the memes. (Edit: HAVE I SAID THIS SHIT IS DISTURBING)

As you can see, the myth just started to grow, characters and ships and tropes being added one after the other, almost bizzarely without contradiction, until there was enough of shape to the whole thing for people to start posting fanfic about it on AO3. "No beta we die like ice-pick Joe" is already a tag.

Link to post.

It was hilarious in the beginning, but the way it's developed within less than a day, kind of like it's being willed into existence, is freaking me out a bit. We're toying with powers beyond our comprehension. 😂😂😂

Link to post.

Of course, there could be an ulterior motive as well.

Link to post (tags mine).

Edit: guys, please tag these posts "unreality" so people with disassociation issues can filter them out (not this one, this is an explainer). <3

----------------------------------------------

Edit 2: Aparently the boots in the original post are actually referring to a movie called Gomorrah that came out in 2008, directed by Mateo Garrone, based on the Scampia Feud. And other people had also been making posts about the fake movie for a while before the poster took off.

found by @thepotch

Edit 3: Explainer: why did those boots have this movie on them anyway?

Edit 4: Alt text added to all images courtesy of @valentineish ❤️

Edit 5: Turns out tumblr has done this kind of thing before. Nine years in this hell place and I had to have "Squiddles" and penis smp explained in the replies.

Edit 6: This post collects the Lore so far.

Edit 7: Lynda Carter (real one)/ earns more/ Tumblr cred.

Edit 8: Holy shit y'all we have the theme music. With sheet music. And it's on Spotify!

Edit 9: THERE IS A TRAILER WITH THE THEME MUSIC

----------------------------------------------

I made this post 18 hours after the movie poster went up. Closed edits 27 hours after first posting. So all of the above happened within 45 hours of the movie poster going up.

Edit 10: Google document live-compiling all the lore so far (Day 3)

Edit 11: Masterpost of Goncharov soundtracks (Day 3)

Edit 12: Entertainment news articles covering the Gonch-posting (real) (Contd from yday)

Edit 13: The music from the masterpost all compiled into a 31-minute original score with video edits on YouTube (edit: unfortunately taken down)

Edit 14: Staff's Goncharov art showcase for Tumblr Tuesday

As of closing on Day 3 there are 371 works in the AO3 tag.

-----

Updating with Day 3 shenanigans I missed yesterday:

Edit 15: Goncharov TV Tropes page

Edit 16: Ethics of Gonchposting

Important PSA 1 (how to reduce harm to Tumblr's neurodivergents)

Important PSA 2 (reality affirmation, anti-bullying)

Important PSA 3 (why you should stop trying to vandalise legit information sites)

Edit 17: Character lore from beezlebub whose poster they originated from

Edit 18: What we know about/ Director Matteo JWHJ0715 (#unreality)

Edit 19: Link to post with screenshotted and described NYT article (scroll down) and this golden exerpt from BuzzFeed: 💀

(alt text included)

End of Day 4 there are now 485 works in the Goncharov tag on AO3

----

Didn't get to update this on Day 5, so these are the Day 5 doings:

More trailers!

Trailer 1 (My favourite)

Trailer 2

Trailer 3

Trailer 4

I also just found out about the Goncharov Game Jam.

It appears this opened a day after after the meme took off.

Goncharov was first entered into Wikipedia between Day 4 and 5 (attempts to vandalise it with fake info don't count, incidentally – please knock that shit off) under List of Internet Phenomena. This was then expanded into its own Wikipedia page at the end of Day 5 because, according to the talk history: "the topic now meets the notability threshold for its own artice due to significant coverage in The New York Times and other sources cited." We're on Wikipedia, people!

And then we made The Guardian half a day later. So while the meme is definitely dying down to embers by now, it still stays winning.

YouTube channels with episodes on the meme:

InformOverlord (4:30)

Lessons in Meme Culture (2:43)

End of Day of 5 there were 511 works on AO3, and End of Day 6 (today) there are 556.

🚨BREAKING 🚨 from Martin Scorsese's daughter's TikTok (real actual)

tw: unreality:

We did it you guys!

Clarification: Francesca Scorcese asked her Dad about the meme and Martin played along. Please reblog this PSA to help Tumblr people with psychosis. Thanks.

Final edit: Day 8. Media reactions to Scorcese's TikTok (everyone from Forbes to Vulture). That one Tumblr user who said they'd do a screenplay if their post got notes has promised to shoot a single scene, but please don't be dicks just because you reblogged it; leave them alone until they get around to it themselves. As of end of Day 8 there are 609 works in the AO3 tag. I love all you lunatics. Peace! ❤️

#goncharov 1973 #reasons i can never leave this hellsite #we've ascended from pirating criterion movies to straight up manifesting them into existence #get on our level twits #knee of huss #goncharov #tumblr lore #tumblr memes #tumblr culture

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rainbowgothdisaster · 11 months

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eepy spend hours laying in bed and not falling asleep and then waking up at 8am no matter what and then on and off sleep til 5pm and then try to go to sleep at a normal time and sleep at 10pm and wake up at 12am and spend hours laying in bed and not falling alseep and then waking up at 8am no matter what and then on and off sleep til 5pm and then try to go to sleep at a normal time and sleep at 10pm and wake up at 12am and spend hours in ned not falling aslseep and then waking up at 8am—

#if i paid you $20 would you drug me so i can sleep a full 8-9 hours in a row?#would you punch me just right to knock me unconscious?#would you choke me out and leave me where i lied?#im so tired #just exhausted

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

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I'm your only situationship.

A/N : yall i stayed up til 324 am writing this. I felt like if i went to bed still only having it as a thought and not on 'paper' thats unacceptable. If i gotta think about this then so do yall! it was also supposed to be a small one shot but it got wildly out of hand im not sorry.

18+ MDNI

TW: typical smut, EXPLICIT mmkay im talkin clutch ur pearls explicit.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Simon had finally come home from a grueling 6-month mission. All he wanted was some Kentucky bourbon with you at your favorite seedy bar.

Once he was home, Simon cleaned up, put on a black clinical mask, and sent a text to you to meet him there. As he finished his first glass of the night, a rather attractive young woman approached him, asking if she could buy him a drink.

“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, lovie?”

“Not at all. This is after all the 21st century. I’m simply asking— wouldn’t want any missus at home getting upset.”

“There’s no one at home for me, lass.”

“Well then, how about you get yourself another glass, my treat, and we’ll see where this night takes us?”

He slightly nodded —he’d never say no to a free drink— and as she left to order a drink, he took his phone out to text you again.

“C’mon, pet. I’ll cover the tab. Too good f’me, now?”

His phone vibrated a minute later.

“I can’t today, Si.”

“Why not? I know you don’t go out on Sundays.”

As the young woman came back, drinks in hand, he lifted the screen to read your response.

“I’ve got a dick appointment~ It’s been a year and then some and I’m gonna claw at my walls if I don’t get a fix ASAP.”

Simon goes tense— soft blues hardening to a silver and he’s gripping his phone so hard it might crack. He pulls up your contact and calls you within seconds.

“Hiya, Si!”

“What the fuck is a dick appointment?”

“Oh,” you giggle. “I forget you older folk don’t know ‘bout that. It’s just a one-night fling. No commitments or nothin'.’ Exactly what I need right now.” You don’t tell him that the reason you’ve practically regrown your hymen is that when you’re best friends with Simon, every other male in existence pales in comparison.

“Anyway Si-, he’s getting here in like an hour-”

“No.” And hangs up.

The young woman who’s casually rubbing his bicep and shoulder gets practically flung off of him, as he gets up off the bar stool so fast it’s falling back with a loud clang, and he’s yanking his leather jacket on and pulling on his leather gloves so hard they’re about to become fingerless—

“Hey! I thought you didn’t have a girlfriend?!”

One gloved hand gripping the front door, he turns his head slightly to her and says, “Pet, with how good I’m gonna fuck her, she won’t even have to ask to know she’s mine.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You’re standing in the bathroom with your liquid eyeliner in one hand and phone in the other, staring at the ended call screen. ‘Weird,’ you think, then shrug and put the phone down. ‘Maybe the call got dropped.’

You finally complete the look with your false lashes when there’s a very hard knock on your door. You frown as you look at your phone screen. ‘7:14 pm’. You know the guy said at 8 and you’re in one of Simon’s big shirts he always forgets and your hair is still tied up in an oversized pink and white polka dot scrunchie— The pink leopard print booty shorts you’ve got on will suffice.

The second time there’s a knock it’s even louder.

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!”

You open the door and say, “I’m sorry I took so long, I—”

Simon flies past you, with a rough shoulder bump and you turn to look at him and he’s almost sprinting to the bedroom, slamming the door open—

“Simon, what the fuck? What’re you doin—”

“Where is he?”, he snarls.

“Who?! Are you talking about my date? He’s not getting here til 8! And why’re you slamming doors in my apartment like you pay my rent?!”

You see Simon deflate immediately at the important part of your answer and chooses to ignore the rest as he takes off his jacket and walks to your hall closet to hang it. Closing your door and locking it, you growl out,

“You need to leave. I haven’t even finished getting ready. I promise I’ll—”

“No, pet.”

“Will you quit interrupting me! Simon, I swear—”

“Pet.”

You’re holding a scream behind your teeth, about to rip the hair out of your scalp when you see Simon take one loop of his mask off from around his ear and then the other. You gape. You’ve seen Simon without his mask— that isn’t the reason you can no longer find your voice. It’s the way he put his gloved middle finger in between his teeth and pulled it off so sensually. You can feel your cheeks and ears radiate heat from just seeing the tip of his pink tongue. Christ, you’re down horrendously.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, to distract yourself from the fact that you’re getting wet over an interaction so chaste when Simon is touching your ass, giving it a hard squeeze, before moving down to the back of your thighs and lifting you up. You startle at the movement and throw your arms around his neck out of habit, hoping he won’t drop you in the move to your bedroom.

He presses you against the wall with his hips, then grabs both of your ankles from behind his lower back and hooks the back of your knees over his forearms. Simon noses your jaw and starts grinding his clothed erection deliciously hard over the definitely wet spot on your shorts and growls out,

“If you think,” grind “that I’m gonna allow My,” grind “Girl,” grind—and you whimper in his ear, “get fucked by some little cock two pump chump,” he gives a forced chuckle, “you must be daft, pet. Or maybe you’re doing it on purpose, eh? Trying to get my attention? Well, you’ve got it now. “

He moves his face to hover his lips over yours— you can lightly smell the bourbon he drank earlier— and he whispers, “You ever like this and I’m around, you come to me. And if I’m away, you wait for me like a good girl and when I come back I’ll give this,” he taps your pussy over your shorts, “greedy little cunt all the cock it can take.”

With a shaky breath, you nod before he kisses you, his bourbon-flavored tongue curling against yours, and you’re moaning into it because you’ve wanted this for too long and he’s finally touching you. Curling your fingers into his ash-brown hair, you move your mouth to his neck, to the right of his adam’s apple, took a bit of skin between your teeth and sucked.

Simon hisses, dips his fingertips into your flesh hard enough to bruise, and all but yanks you off the wall to toss you onto your bed.

You yelp as you bounce from the force of his throw— you’re still bouncing on the bed when Simon grabs the waistband of your shorts and knickers to pull right off, which you’re grateful for because the grey knickers you got on aren’t what anyone would wear for a first, second nor third impression.

Simon grabs both of the back of your knees with one hand, goddamn bear paws, you think, before you feel his tongue in between your lips— so warm and wet and fuck, you needed this, needed him— and he flicks his tongue up and down on your clit. He sticks his long middle finger into you and it goes in without resistance, you’re slippery, drooling over his wrist and finger that’s curled up into the rough patch of nerves against your gummy walls, that he’s pressing into, over and over. God you’re about to come, your legs shake in his one-handed hold and you’ve got a white knuckle grip on the forearm you’re sinking your nails into—

Simon pulls away. You were so close, your eyes start watering because he can’t possibly be this mean to you but then you see him shove his tongue in between his middle and ring finger, eating up your nectar when he says, “The first time I’m gonna make you come, it’ll be on my cock. I want to see the frothy white cream you're gonna leave at the base.”

You’re nodding hysterically at this point, anything for him to make you come, anything for him. With a twirl of his index, he’s telling you to get on all fours. Scrambling, you turn over and arch your back— resting your head on your forearms— and you feel his calloused palms run down from your spine to your ass cheeks before he gives it a spank.

“You have a condom?”

You shake your head and you mewl out, “No, but I’m clean.”

“Good. I don’t want anything between us.”

You arch your back further, pressing your ass further into his hips when you hear his belt buckle clank and zipper open. Simon brings his palm to your other cheek, reddening it.

“Fuckin’ hell, pet. Look at you spread out for me.”

You feel warm velvet over steel over your slit before he slowly pushes inside, not all the way but about a little over half of his length, remembering that your g-spot is a little closer to the front. Fast, relatively shallow thrusts hitting your spot with almost clinical precision have you reeling, your orgasm about to break you, mind and body. Hands tightening painfully, you shatter— loud, high-pitched whines, ringing in your ears and pussy pulsing around Simon’s thick girth— and god, Simon doesn’t stop thrusting. He keeps the same smooth rhythm and you’d think he’s unaffected by the tight vice your pussy has him in— but you hear him, low, deep groans and a tighter grip on your hips telling you otherwise.

He pulls out to bend over your back, completely covering it, and he murmurs in your ear, “I hope you didn’t think we were done. My girl wanted a fuckin’, now she’s gonna get it.”

He takes off your pink, silly scrunchy and you see it around his tattooed wrist before he grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and is leaning back up and forcing your back to arch under his pull. You feel his leg at the height of your hips— propped up, foot flat on the bed and knee bent and the other straight on the floor and all you can think of is how this man is gonna kill you with his cock.

Simon snaps his hips forward, fist full of hair pulling back, stretching and filling in one strong thrust, bottoming out. He gives you no reprieve, no time to get used to how fucking deep he is, and sets an intense, firm pace that has you feeling a pinch below the navel every time his hip bones slap against your ass, balls to the clit and you love it. Every pinch in your lower belly has your pussy making a squelching sound and you can’t help yourself— you reach underneath your body to feel how split open you are with two fingers, encasing his cock and feeling the skin drag with them as he pulls out.

That has him hissing air between his teeth, he’s about to come but doesn't want it to be over so he pulls out, and opens your cheeks to spit in your furled hole, before pressing in with the pad of his thumb, and you’re almost screaming. He moves back a bit further to spit in your pussy, not that you need it— you’re drenching the sheets underneath you— and now he’s spearing you with his tongue before curling it, getting your juices pooled on it before coming back up, lips smacking, and he grabs your hair in his ponytail and now he uses his other hand to curls his fingers and palm over the front of your throat and that's all it takes for your vision to darken and arms go limp but he’s again, fucking you through your orgasm and this time you leave a creamy white ring at the base of his length.

“Oh, fuckin hell.” He groans out and it sounds desperate and you know he’s close.

“Come in me, Simon. Please fill me up, I promise I’ll keep it all in.”

He gives a strained chuckle and says, “Pet, I can barely pull out of a driveway much less this tight little cunt.” He squeezes your throat hard, strands of hair popping out of your scalp and his cock feels massive, the pinch in your stomach feels like a cramp from how deep he is and he lets out a low drawn out moan that lasts 3 thrusts— and then there’s warmth filling you up, so much so it leaks from the sides of where you two are connected. Simon lets go of your hair and you fall face-first onto the bed, exhausted. Defeated. Back properly broken. You officially know what it’s like to get fucked within an inch of your life and you love it.

He pulls out slowly, with a hiss from both of you and with one hand on your left cheek, he spreads you to look at your stuffed hole.

“Fuck. I love seeing me drip out of you.”

You’re about to tell him to sod off when the doorbell rings and the both of you stiffen and lock eyes. With a mean snarl, Simon grabs a towel from your bathroom and his mask before stomping his way to answer the door, pink obnoxious scrunchy still on his wrist.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x you #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #call of duty smut

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inkskinned · 1 year

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for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.

#idk if it's still tradition but the kids at the local school next to walden when I went there #used to have a tradition where u had to pee in walden pond before u graduated or otherwise you'd fail one of your classes #as someone who did not do this im happy to report i did fail a class so maybe they had a point #they've torn the school down tho so who knows #i hope this makes sense #i think we've been human longer than we've been writing #ps this land was taken over by hostile combatants and colonialized . let us not forget that part of the reason #our 'history' is so short. is that we have systematically slaughtered the people who had history here before

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