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void-botanist · 9 months

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Avis & Sorian OTP questions 3/6

From this question list.

There are 60 questions, so I’m doing this in 10-question chunks. #soravis otp will give you all of the parts.

Enjoys these two dumbasses hurting my poor heart taglist: @vacantgodling

Who would get into a fight to defend the other's honor? Who tends to the other's wounds? The only person who would get wounded in a fight to defend the other's honor is Avis, because she's the only one who came to throw hands. Sorian would like to know where she got that knife and also if she could only get in fights near Leon and Edith's house please? He has no trouble carrying her to somewhere but he is distressed about the fact that she got in a knife fight on his behalf and would like someone else to be there.

What reminds each of their partner? Avis always thinks of Sorian when she's sitting out on the deck of her current houseboat eating breakfast or dinner and watching the sky. They spent around twelve years living on a houseboat together on the unnamed planet Sid's dad led the charge to, a houseboat that they built themselves. The wood they used for that boat doesn't exist on Rade, but Sorian still thinks of Avis when he's working in a wood that has a similar color or grain pattern. He also thinks of her every time he steps into a bookstore, because they kept a cozy library on the boat.

Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning? Who's more likely to try? Avis, but Sorian has work. Who's more likely to succeed? Sorian. He's not trying though. He's just dead asleep and looks cute and Avis decides she would rather stay in bed after all.

Who's more likely to give the other a massage? Sorian, because Avis's shoulders are all knots. Maybe she should get this done professionally.

Do they have any hobbies they share? Inasmuch as sailing and carpentry are hobbies for them, when Avis used to sail as part of her job and might again, and Sorian is a professional magicarpenter, they share those. But they're also known to hike for the view and once upon a time they used to be very into racquet sports.

What are their vices? Most of them should be self-evident by now: their communication is dysfunctional as hell, Avis is unreasonably snarky, Sorian takes the strategy "wait and see" to extremes even now that Avis is back.

Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party? They'll both drink too much at parties, but while Sorian will just have a long string of drinks as the night wears on, Avis has a habit of chugging things and sometimes attempting to out-chug someone else. So she's the one who usually needs taken care of. Sorian has a headache, a stomachache, and he's not too light on his feet, but Avis is barfing behind the bushes and laying down on the sidewalk and telling him to just leave her there, she'll find her way home in the morning. (She wakes up in bed where Sorian put her.)

What are their thoughts on pet names? Do they have any? They did, once. They don't speak of that anymore.

Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out? Neither of them is likely to do it on purpose, though I can imagine Sorian doing it solely to make the elevator pause and prank Avis.

Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing? Avis remembers an outfit she's seen Sorian wear only once, for an honor society dinner or something of that nature. It's a deep azure suit over a pale shirt and a green and blue sweater vest. She doesn't know if he still owns it. She still thinks about it. Once upon a time she owned a pale pink vest top with thin brown stripes that matched her favorite pair of stained brown shorts. Sorian doesn't know why he remembers that specifically, but it was nice.

#[ms paint crying pic] she loves him SO MUCH and she will NOT SAY IT #I also cannot express how much Sorian is actually just a goofy lil guy. just a normal man. who has been thoroughly pruned by the situation #I'm not gonna defend his past actions that brought them to this point. he did the best he could but he also still fucked up #Avis didn't deserve that stunning betrayal. Sorian doesn't deserve the extent to which she is being a bitch at him now #ride or die but they are riding and dying at the same time #soravis #soravis otp #c: Avis #c: Sorian #wip: aom #obligatory otp ask game

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nottheangelserafin · 3 months

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their name is lyndine they're a nonbinary victorian child and they have been surviving off of eating moss and squirrels for the past 6 years

#ms paint #drawing this was a pain but also fun #my laptop is a disaster this bitch has survived 10 y/o gullible me and being flooded w water AND IT LAGS ON MS FUCKING PAINT.#the oc is very chaotic they also hav a lantern and a pet dead fly that they keep on a string hanging from it #art #lmao #oc #doodles #my art #silly art #victorian child #:3 energy

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ravenna-reid · 1 month

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CRIMSON RED

Jason Todd x Pain Inflictor Reader

TW: nothing crazy, just swearing and mentions of violence

˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖ ݁ ˖

All they called you was Crimson.

Maybe because of your signature lipstick and that lace that was always in your hair.

Or maybe because of the blood you drew out of your targets without so much as raising a finger.

A telekinetic pain inflictor. The worst kind of metahuman.

But Red Hood had no reason to worry about you just yet. You tended to keep a low profile and there were bigger fish to fry. And if he was being honest, the sound of you and your abilities were kind of terrifying.

Jason's little mission all went wrong though, given his intel was missing key information. Now he was bound to a chair in a warehouse with a dripping roof. And that dripping eerily echoed as he sat and waited. Desperately keeping his fears and demons at bay.

Being tied to a chair. The looming threat of torture. It all hit a little too close to home.

Two-Face eventually sauntered into view, the rest of the warehouse behind and beside him concealed in shadows. Jason had to grimace every time he saw his face.

"You ugly bastard." Jason retorted, masking his fear with snarky insults and sarcasm. "Gotten work done recently?" He nodded towards Harvey's face with his head.

"Son of a bitch." Two-Face's face contorted with rage. "I would watch my mouth if I were you. You're finally gonna die tonight, and this time you won't be coming back."

Jason swallowed hard, pissed off that he didn't have his helmet to hide the fear-inducing anticipation on his pale face.

"But we'll let the coin decide how this is gonna play out."

So Harvey went on with his odd ritual and flipped his coin. It landed on the tarnish side, and Jason had no idea what that meant. Suddenly, Two-Face was calling out to someone behind him. Someone hidden deep within the darkness of the abandoned warehouse. Jason waited and waited, sweat dripping down the side of his face.

He expected a gruesome looking thug or some other high profile villain. Maybe Penguin, or even Harley.

The sound of heeled boots slowly echoed through out his bleak surroundings, accompanied by a laugh like velvet. You soon came into view.

Crimson mask concealing the top half of your face, the colour matching that string of lace that sat comfortably in your hair. Your usual deep red outfit hugged your body, similar to Catwoman's except for the fact that it wasn't a whole bodysuit. And of course, your stark, scarlet lips were contorted into a sinister smile.

He'd seen you around. But seeing you this close in person was a different story. Jason's breath hitched once you were right in front of him. Truthfully, he never intended to meet you. And now it was so much worse given you would be the one torturing him tonight.

Fuck this mission really went south.

"Here, the coin says you get to toy with him tonight." Two-Face said with a dismissive wave of his hand and scoff as he turned his back. "I have a deal I need to be making soon."

Jason watched as he left, muscles stiff with frustration and venom in his eyes. This was the deal Jason was supposed to be preventing.

As Jason's eyes lingered on Two-Face, your eyes were focused on him. His ivory skin and deep, jet black hair. The aggravated expression painted across his face. That muscular figure.

And that odd looking J scar on the side of his face.

"Red Hood..." Your voice lingered and shivers suddenly went down Jason's arms. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Can't say I feel the same way." He responded harshly, avoiding eye contact and instead trying to devise an escape plan. Which would, most likely, be futile and stupid.

"Mmm, mean. It's not like you're a saint Red." You calmly pointed out, voice smooth like wine.

And then he looked up at you. "Oh, really? You're one to talk? Ms snaps someones bones and crushes their lungs with a blink of an eye."

Finally making contact, you saw the confliction swirling in those eyes, and for some odd reason something tightened your throat.

Jason didn't miss the subtle furrow of your brows as you neared him. Slowly circling him like a predator.

"Deciding what bone you're going to break first?"

You scoffed, but it was more like a laugh. As you walked behind Jason he began to feel his skin crawl, his heart beat faster. He wished you were standing in front of him again. Staring down at him the way you were.

As you went around him, you noticed the back of his shirt was slightly tugged down, revealing slithers of iridescent scars. Many, many scars.

"What are you doing?" He snapped, but you remained silent until you faced him again. And this time all you did was stare back at him, mind deep in thought. Something stirred deep in your chest. Regret? Sympathy?

"You're just a kid." The words left your mouth in a gentle whisper as you realised he was probably no older than you.

So no, he wasn't a kid. But he wasn't old enough to have his body broken by you. Sure, you butchered people with your mind all the time. But they were criminals. Enemies. Scum. They always had it coming. But him? Red Hood?

You just couldn't do it. It was ridiculous, you knew that. But you couldn't. You wondered where Two-Face was and how he'd react to your odd decision. But hell, you didn't care about ignoring Two-Face's order. Rules and regulations never stopped you before, and what was he going to do?

Jason initially wanted to get even more mad about that statement. Insulted that you just called him a boy when he was in his 20's. But he kept to himself, continuing to watch you closely.

"So what are you gonna do now huh? Cause this game is getting a little boring Crimson."

His attitude made you smirk a little. You suddenly slipped a red-blade dagger from your belt. Jason frowned, wondering why you wouldn't just use you powers, when you cut the zip ties and rope keeping him bound.

Now he was glancing up at you, eyes wide with confusion and suspicion.

"You gonna go or did you actually want me to hurt you?" You asked, brows raised. But already knowing the answer, you were turning to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" He sounded like he was accusing you of something. You turned to look back over your shoulder.

The sympathy was back, but also a few other feelings. Butterflies in your stomach and what not. Shit he was handsome.

"I don't know," you shrugged. "You're kinda cute."

He scoffed before grabbing his helmet from the floor. "Spare me."

Suddenly a sharp pain began in his knees before they turned into brittle leaves. He dropped down onto them and stayed there as the pain began to subside. Then he shot a glare up at you. You were already standing before Jason and looking down at him, that smug smile on your pretty face.

"Mm," You hummed, eyes dancing across his features as you took him in. "Very cute."

Then you turned to leave, and Jason was left blushing and speechless.

Part 2

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#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fluff #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight #arkhamverse #dca fandom #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #red hood angst #angst #jason todd angst

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rusmii · 3 months

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xoxo...BONDING WITH A MAFIOSO: ms. healer! - n. chuuya

chuuya x healer!reader/self insert (fem.)

[✦🥛]. . . another self-indulgent fic. idk why but I'm in the mood to make more friends... come talk to me if you guys want to (´,,•ω•,,) [pt.2 of xxx...mr. mafia! NOT PROOFREAD]

[syp]. . . when you meet up with chuuya at the coordinates, you're surprised to see that he's alone. what happens next is a moment of weakness and vulnerability between the both of you.

[cws]. . . flirty chu, reader has a weird thought abt chuuya for the entire fic, you guys flirt the whole time idk why, THIS IS FLUFFY GUYS!!!!, flustered chuuya, smoking, teasing chuuya, bickering/banter, nicknames/petnames

You shivered. Doubt began to seep in you, the cold air shriveled atop the thinly layered jacket you wore. You should've brought a thicker jacket. If not, then layer up more to protect yourself from the chilly atmosphere — Secrecy of the Port Mafia began to unshed itself in the depths of moonshine. Thoughtless images of your mangled body bloodied and beaten to the curve under the brash aggression of your recruiter were enough to rack fear into your veins.

You shook those reeked thoughts away. Death by the Japanese mafia is, and will not be on your 2024 bingo.

"What's wrong?" His slightly hoarse voice questions from across you. Shaking your head again, you push the question aside, "It's nothing – just.. cold." Noticing the hesitation in your voice, Chuuya gets up and moves around the room — said place was a dimly lit room, you could barely see anything past the four dark corners that the light didn't gaze upon. It was smaller than a shipping container, much like a small living room space with a kitchen right next to the couches. The bathroom was hidden by old paint, the door knob being the only indicator of its existence.

"Is that so?" Chuuya says from the kitchen area. "Want some hot chocolate? Got plenty stocked for the occasion," he flaps the flimsy packet up and down for you to see. He didn't really need to speak loudly. The silent room being so shrunk gave your guys' ears the benefit of even hearing hushed whispers. "Sure," you shrug your shoulders. Chuuya chuckled, amused by the act of your feigned toughness. "Well then, one hot cocoa coming up for my lovely lady tonight."

You wanted to roll your eyes at his blatant flirting. You knew that he was only doing that to soften up your interior, make it easier to invade through your exterior, slip through the cracks, and unwire all the tangled up complexities that mangled up your person. He wanted to; intended to; desired to break down your so carefully curated towers — but you weren't gonna fall, not with the strong resolution you walked in with today. Especially not when he's expecting you to open the gardens' gates so freely for visitors.

"Relax," Chuuya's voice resonated around the walls. Despite his turned back, it seemed like he could read your face and very thoughts at the moment. " 'M not the type to bite – not that fast, at least." How he could tell you were still wary about him, you didn't know. Guess it was a perfected technique you had to acquire before becoming one of the top dogs in the Port Mafia. "So you still intend on toying with me before you make me one of the PM's bitch?" A snide remark escaped you before you could stop and think about what to say next.

He laughs, "Basically."

Chuuya hums, placing both his drink and yours on a tray, the cups rattling atop the metal. "Jus' kiddin'," he sighs when he sees your face. "Toying with my meals ain't my style – playing with food is Dazai's thing. I'd rather go in for the center of the plate, the best part comes first f'me." His smile never disappeared from his lips. Short and elegant, composed in a way you completely weren't. "So you were lying? And who's Dazai?" One by one. Chuuya's smirks widens as he slowly peels you bit by bit.

"Here ya' go, miss healer," he hands you your drink. "Don't worry 'bout poison, I'm supposed to recruit you not kill you," he reassures your next thought, but ignoring your question. You eye him as he sat down, taking the drink with cusp palms. You didn't know what to believe — there was one hell of a 99.9% chance of him lying to drug and kidnap you — but you wanted to believe in that 0.01% of him attempting to somewhat befriend you.

"Heh - miss healer?"

"What? What's wrong with it?"

You wave him off, "Nothinnn," blowing the top layer of your hot cocoa. "What made you think of miss healer, mister mafia?" A familiar smirk made its way back on his face. "Exactly that, miss healer." Taking a sip of his cup, he crosses a leg around his other one. Had he sat like a lady, you'd tease him, but unfortunately for you, he sat like he was waiting for someone to sit on his lap — the wide open space, his knee pointed to the side rather than upward like how normal cross sitting is, and the arm resting above the couch cushion — god he was tempting.

"Exactly like what sir?" Using his tactics, you were starting to recompose yourself. The same smirk Chuuya uses was the one donning your face at the very moment.

Chuuya doesn't seem to mind it however, the same bland expression showcasing his already high confidence. "An eye for an eye. A nickname - " he flicks his cup, " - for a nickname."

Wanting to reply sarcastically, you bit your tongue – not wanting to anger the calm mafioso.

"Keep blowing your drink, and it's gonna go cold." What Chuuya said made you snap out of your daze, urging you to gulp down a large portion of your drink. Bad idea — "fuck – !" you managed to gurgle out, the hot beverage burning your throat, your tongue feels like it burned off all it's nerves. When you heard Chuuya laugh, you had just about lost your temper with him. "You ?! – you tricked me?!" His chest rumbles, "Hey now! You drinking that shit wasn't my fault! All I did was try to warn you!"

An accusing finger points at you, "Tut, tut – miss healer can't handle hot drinks!"

"Wah – Yes I can!" You shout back, "It's just too hot! That's why I was blowing it for so long!!" You point a finger back at him. "If you hadn't said anything I wouldn't have drunk it so fast!! Besides! It's hot chocolate, you're supposed to wait for it to cool down if you want to drink it comfortably!"

"Oh really? Cause all I hear are – wait, what's that word..? Excuses!"

"Urgh! You have no point in trying to make fun of me! You barely even took a sip of yours!"

Stopping himself from arguing back, Chuuya takes a look at his brimmed filled cup and exhaled a deep breath of air before pushing the cup to his lips. What came next was a shock to you; of pure utter stupidity. Chuuya chugs down his beverage, some of it leaking down the side of his mouth. His adams apple bobbed with every quick gulp he took — "Dunno' whatcha talkin' 'bout," he swallowed the remaining liquid in his mouth and showed you his now empty cup.

"You..." Feeling speechless. Horribly confused. And just overall weirded out by this weird action, you placed your cup back down on the coffee table. "Actually never mind, I don't know what to say to that," you gave in, the perpetual defeat that Chuuya had paved out was inevitable.

"Don't weep now. We still have business to talk about." Quick and cut to the chase, the mood sours just as the lights dim impossibly so.

Keeping to yourself, you wait. The cigarette that the mafioso had pulled out to light was starting to burn; smell invading your senses. Covering your scrunched nose with your hand, you start fanning the contaminated fumes away from your air space. "Don't like the smell of cigs?" Chuuya puffs out, a fog of white smoke evaporating towards you. "Is it not obvious?" You cough, a glare wrenching it's away out.

"Oh," was all he said before putting out the cigarette and throwing it aside. "That better?" He asks again, wanting to ease you back into the mood before he makes any more advances. "Better," you confirm, still swatting fumes away from your face. Pulling out a lollipop from your bag, you handed it over to Chuuya. "Here, take this." Chuuya takes the candy before unwrapping it. "What flavor?"

"Dum dums show the flavor dumdum – look at the wrapper." He clicks his tongue in annoyance by your relentless back talk, but he didn't let it bother him for the most part. "Blue berry raspberry?"

"Yeah. Thought you'd like it."

"Hm? Why?"

You shrugged your shoulders, "Blue, like your eyes." Chuuya had to pause for a moment when you said that. His eyes slightly widening — his slightly pale complexion now brushed over with a light pinkish red — his composure faltering for just a split second, not even giving you time to witness what you had just done to him.

"Oh – uh, thanks. I guess..." Quickly revaluating himself, the slight loop in his expression fixed itself — making you miss your chance at teasing. "No problem!" Humming for his pleasure, you did take great delight in feeling appreciated. "Yeah, um," he fakes a cough to get you guys' back on track, "Tis' good. Thanks for the lolli." You can see the roll of the candy inside his mouth, his tongue moving around to savor the oncoming flavor. You hum again, a happy look washed over your face.

Chuuya sighs. You two were getting sidetracked — but for some reason, when he glances at your innocent, happy, so, so genuine expression, much unlike his, he feels the need to drag this meeting out for a bit longer. A little bit longer to talk with you as a civil person before he has to force an ultimatum.

belongs to @churuai DONT STEAL >:(((

taglist (free to join!): @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani

teeheeteeheetehheee hope u guys enjoyed! comments and reblogs appreciated <3<3

#[˚₊‧꒰ა🩰] — runi #FINALLY DONE WITH THIS...#might make a mr. mafia pt3 muahahaha #chuuya x reader #chuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #bsd x reader

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ghostsprettymama · 8 months

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Task force 141's secretary.

Simon " Ghost " Riley - intended for black chubby readers

Unprotected, raw, meat to meat, pussy eating, daddy kink praising, degrading, breeding kink

You were the new secretary, you handled files on missions, peoples files, Scheduled meetings. Whatever, you just did it.

And god you were so good at your job. Sittin pretty, those pretty tits lookin so good in every bit of clothing, that fat ass just lookin good in every pair of pants, skirts, anything.

A hum escaped your lips as you typed away, the task force was away on a mission. As always of course. On yout wrist was a braclet from roach, it was like a welcoming gift yet a friendship token in a way.

You knew everyone, and everyone knew you. Except for him. Few weeks later, when everyone came in after a needlessly long mission. They were tired,angry or even upset, not even Roach spoke to you.

But that didnt bother you, there you saw him. your eyes wandered to his beautiful brown eyes, they looked so beautiful to you. He caught you staring, didnt mind it though.. he was talking to Captain John Price. His back was to you. To price, Ghost was looking at him, but in reality hes staring into your eyes figuring you out.

You tilted your head smiling. A soft wave came from you. you put those pretty nails on display too. Shit John for some reason paid for it, he was a wonderful man. When John left, you waved ghost over. He was curious. So curious if you were just like the other secretarys before you.

"Whats your deal?" He asked. Being completely straightforward "Whats your name?" You replied with a question. "I asked you first.." he added on "two is bigger than one, seconds usually the best.. sooo" you said, tilting your head. "Gho- "no, your name " you interupted.

He sighed. You were a presistent one, he could tell already. "Simon." He said, his eyes rolling like the sassy bitch he was "Now I answered yours, answer mine." He demanded, his hands on the counter top as he looked down at you. You typed away laughing softly. You smiled tilting your head softly. "Im just a secretary.. Y/n L/n." You said.

"I know who you are... your friend doesnt shut up about ya. I mean why were you staring." He replied, in response you raised your eyebrows "Thats it? I just think your eyes are beautiful, like a forest during autumn... Something cold and relaxing." You said, your eyes still locked with his. that kind smile never leaving.

He was caught off guard.. the man was so used to women just being extremely vulgar to him, but you..you were a sweetheart.

For months you talked to him longer and longer. One by one he got closer with you to the point... you were now in dorm on base doing his face paint. Ghosts fingers danced between your braids.. you sat on his lap. his other hand rested on your ass holding you up, you were so close he could just kiss those pretty lips.

His eyes stared at them as his thoughts were betraying him. What would yout lips look like taking him in? Or gasping so softly as he filled your cunt??? He needed to know this scientific information.. but what he really cared about is what they felt like.

His thumb brushed against your lips as he made a soft "mmh" in delight at how soft your lips were. "Simon? What was that about..?" You chuckled holding his face. Yes, he trusted you to the point you could hold his face, shit. even come near it.

He leaned into your touch like a cat, closing his eyes softly. Simon was like this at times, with him, you werent always gonna get an answer. You repeated his action but on his hands they felt rough. He had rough, big hands.. you gave his free hand a massage with your free one. He liked it which you assumed since he didnt open his eyes yet.

When you finished and moved your hand, his hands returned to your ass. you bit your lips getting flustered " what is it Ms Y/n? Mmh..?" He sounded sleepy, he was. He fell asleep briefly when you held his face. His raspy sleepy voice..that...thatll do it for you.

You burried your head into his neck as you felt your own wetness. Ghost felt it too after all your on his lap "you like that..? Me talkin to you like this...?' He whispered in your ear.. teasing you.

"Simon dont tease.." you replied. Your hands on his chest feeling his muscles, your hands traveled to his abs which made you squeak. You didnt know he was gonna be built like this..

Simon listened to your wish and flipped you over over. In the mating press position, instictively your legs gripped him in place. He grunted slightly at the strength of your grip, he could break it if he wanted, but he didnt want to.

"I want you. Youre s' pretty.. so smart... i just want you so bad." You admitted to him, he removes the baclava, his pretty blonde eyelashes, beautiful short blonde hair "dont start complainin pretty." He said kissing you so lovingly.

He was soon exploring your naked body, biting and sucking, when he found that beautiful fat cunt of yours he went to absolute town. His eyes, alike a predator staring at his prey as he ate your pretty pussy out. When you gripped his hair he moaned.

Such vibrations made you shove his head in as if it could be inside any deeper, for hours he teased your clit, eating you like his last fucking meal. Every so often you heard his pussy drunk cracking voice "mine.. only mine.. this pussy 's all mine.." he gripped your thighs making sure you knew.

"Ouu fuck im gonnna cum again daddy-"when you said that your mouth CLASPED shut, you could see simons sick and twisted grin. "Call me that again.." he said, and of course you did and his eyes closed in delight. You rode his face but he didnt need help. he held you still as he went back to his job forcing your legs behind your head.

Every moan you silenced he smacked your ass making you moan so loud "daddydaddydaddydaddy ohfuckimgonnancumucantholdit" you moaned out "cum in my mouth baby. Reward me. I deserve it princess dont i?" He said and you nodded squirting in his mouth as your body twitched.

You thought that was the end of it, nah. You heard a belt unbuckling. Pants unbuttoning, and then dropping, you tried to look but he shoved your head back down. "Want s' more baby? Do you think you could be good n take me? Like a good girl right?" He coo'd looking at you.

"Yes sir..." you replied, he gently smacked you "atta girl!" He smacked your cunt making you flinch a little . His tip aligned with your entrace, teasingly slow.. then... SLAM !! His cock went in rather easy from how soaked you were..

He couldnt hold back, he was thrusting relentlessly into your cunt, you were so wet that your juices got on his shirt. You were so embarassed covering your face. Ghost shook his head. " cant have you doin that pretty. I wanna see that face..." he said, he took it as he wasnt going good enough if you had the time to be embarassed.

He changed his pace as he worshipped your body with so.many.kisses. little "mines." As he pounded your cunt, you couldnt think. All you knew was hpw good you felt "mmhgfuck oh daddydaddydaddy m gnnnacumagain pleasee?" You moaned, you were teary faced, smuged makeup and all.

He smirked "mmh. You can wait baby" when you whine,Simon mocked you gently smacking your face again, anything this man did.. you love it. He had his hand on your stomach as he stuck his tongue out,this fucking slut man.

"Mmh... oou god baby im s' close. Want me to fill you up?? Yeah??' He asked,all you could do was nod." Cmon. Cum with me baby..i know you can" he said gently rubbing your face before planting a harsh smack on your ass.

He didnt stop thrusting, his hips stuttered as he filled you up with his hot seed, slamming every bit that came out back into you, as of course you both came at the same time...

A/N : Did you guys like this?😭im trying smt new

#shawtytharula #black reader #cod mw2 #cod ghost #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #task force 141 smut #black reader smut #black reader fic #chubby reader #black chubby reader #munch simon ghost riley era

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holyghostbelle · 2 months

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all those vile things

dannyjohnson!ghostface x reader blessed with quick wit and and a long list of medication your beginning to think being obsessed with a stalker couldn't be more healthier

09’

You lie back and smoke a cigarette, a bottle of jack in your hand spilling on the oversized band t-shirt you wore fished out from a thrift store from some tour you never got tickets for. Your eyes are glued to the tv, yet half interested in the House of a 1000 corpses movie rented out from blockbuster 2 months ago, There's ash on your notepad, not that you had taken any notes yourself, you take to sipping and gulping down any intoxicating beverage you can get your hands on these days, you're on the edge from the local killer.

(kind of, but not really you hope he stabs you with his knife and then licks it up, it's more of an excuse to get intoxicated and then pass out to an episode of dateline)

You rip open a pack of m&ms with your teeth and that guy from the office dies, his body is turned into a fish and you laugh maniacally as the dumb girls run into a room with another killer, and then Otis has corpse paint on and as much as his sideburns disgust you but you can't help feeling attracted to the guy, you feel sick at the thought of being oddly aroused but it's okay because its not real! and it's not like you fantasising about ted bundy or anything, but you did stalk the true crime tag on tumblr and find a bunch of fan edits with flower crowns. You fall asleep on the sofa and then wake up at 3 in the morning. Moving to the comfort of your bed which is only 5 feet away from the small second hand cracked leather sofa, you toss and turn until you're stuck on your back, hands unable to grip the sheets as you watch black oozing from the ceiling, you imagine its sentient and can peer into your brain and witness how sick you truly are, and then you wake up and it's 8am, you go to college in the clothes from last night, your laces are undone and you trip over them on the street while inhaling a cigarette and drinking a monster energy drink, it spills onto denim and leaves a small sticky wet patch.

You fell asleep in your film studies class, seven different people had all chosen ‘twin peaks:fire walk with me’ to write an essay on. You laugh as they speak nonsensically about Laura Palmer and how the movie was more about discovering who she was than how she was murdered, it's all the same recycled garbage you said a year ago, back when your professor was that feminist guy. You picture Dale Cooper in a red room, you remember when the constant jokes from the simpsons, you think about Laura Palmer's cold blue body on the beach wrapped in plastic and then how david lynch left the show and it all became fucked up. Someone drones on about American psycho and how the murders were in his head.

You leave class, smoke a cigarette outside in the parking lot and lean against your beat up car. Your cracked ipod nano plays Jeff Buckley and Elliott Smith simultaneously and then some 80s song you used to be so obsessed with and it reminds you of how your ex drove you home after you broke up with him, how his hand gripped yours and you didn't hold it back. You don't sob like usual. You don't think about how he was so angry he held your neck without squeezing, just to look you in the eyes and call you a bitch.

You fidget with your dungarees and then drive to work. Leaning against the counter as you watch kids flick through comics and then flick though vinyls laughing at covers with girls with their huge tits out, and then looking at the r-rated movies with eyes and needles. Then leaving a mess and stepping out of the shop without buying anything. You steal a pack of gum from the display in front of you and change the cassette to the b side, you repeat this till it's 8pm and dark outside.

Then it's time to close up the shop, shutting the blinds, switching off all the lights, you close and lock the front door with the keys, and shove them deep into your pocket. It's a cold and icy night. You pull the vintage motorcycle jacket you stole from your ex around your shoulders and light a cigarette. Walking around the side of the shop deep into the alleyway to get your car from the employee car park behind all the shops, you stop in your tracks. Gravel kicking against the wall.

Theres a whine and a moan and you almost think someones fucking until you notice the trail of blood that leads exactly to the body in the corner, who ever it is put up a fight. There's a man clambering over him, a camera swinging to the side of his body as you watch him cut deep into his chest,his guts spill intestines falling out into the concrete like confetti, you hear it slap to the floor. You feel sick.

The body looks at you pleading and begging with its eyes and he moans, your eyes widen and the man with the camera looks directly at you, his masked face cocking to the side in curiosity, you shake and look over to your car which is and i say this lightly, funnily enough right next to the killer and his victim. Blood coating the exterior. Bloody streaks over the silver paint, you almost feel bad for yourself knowing how much it's gonna cost to clean the blood off your car. It's selfish really. Consider there a man choking on his own blood right in front of you.

You think about backing away and running…but you stand frozen and watch the man bleed out, his blood pouring out like an afterthought. White masked man snaps a photo, and then another he slashes at the victim's throat, the life drains quickly out of his eyes and you watch him take one last ragged breath as his eyes tell you to run as fast as you can.

Then he turns his black eyes and gaping jaw keeping you in place, his leather gloved hand shushes at you as he approaches like a predator to his prey.

You.

Your heart thumps against your chest. He pushes you to the brick wall, you whine at how harsh you hit it. He takes the cigarette out of your hand leather brushing against your coldfinger tips and presses it to your mouth.

‘Go on, smoke it’ His voice is gravely and deep.

You puff on the cancerous stick, you picture him smiling under the mask. He stares at you through mesh eyes. Your hands are scratching at the brick wall behind you.

How many minutes do you have left? Will he leave you to bleed, or watch?

Suddenly there's a knife against your throat. It's cold and unforgiving and you've forgotten how to breathe. It brushes to just under your chin and then it's tracing against your cheek, you whimper as it catches, a bead of blood rolling down, he catches it with his thumb and smears it on your lips, cigarette falling to the floor, smoke exhaling as your eyes tear up. Your eyebrows furrow, eyes closing ready to meet your demise, cunt throbbing, as you feel the air against your neck, you wait for it to plunge your hands tight around your coat.

“Are you going to kill me?” you whimper, the knife trails deeper, to your sternum and you feel hot breath on your neck, there's a sniff and the zipper of your jacket catches and it pulled down, you don't dare look waiting in anticipation, you feel you him unbuckle your dungarees the denim falling to your crutch and then your t-shirt lifts up there's a pause, cold against your skin, cold air and then the steel slices into you with ease, you feel yourself lean over and his hand pushes your head back into the wall until your upright. It tears through quickly soiling your clothes with red sticky blood.

“If you're going to kill me, do it already” you whimper at him. His touch leaves you and you await for his hard hand to push the steel metal into you. It never comes.

Your eyes open slowly and he's gone, you stand for a minute and peek your eyes round the corner to stare at the body. Hand clutching at the wound he gave you, spanning four inches. Blood coating your hand.

You call the police obviously, you're questioned all night after you're all stitched up. you tell them about him approaching you, but not how he pressed his thumb to your lips and your cunt throbbed, you pretend it never happened. You pretend that you pushed him off and got scared, sparing you.

They let you go at 12pm, an officer drives you back to your apartment, your crappy silver car is marked as a crime scene. You call up Adam and tell him you're not going to be in the next day due to the whole ‘stabbing incident’ he wishes you well.

You take two sleeping pills and drink the rest of the whiskey from the other night, you throw up at the thought of the body in front of you. The pills come up half dissolved with it. You fall asleep to a rerun of Criminal Minds and dream of Spencer Reid finding you tied up in the basement somewhere,

He kisses you gently and combs back his horribly long parted greasy hair with his hand. He starts to recite a chapter of wuthering heights “'Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?”, it turns to pure gibberish in your mind and you sigh at him as he takes your soft cheeks in his hands tenderly lips tracing your neck in soft kisses and then he rips out your throat with his teeth, you bleed out all over the basement floor as he kisses your neck and revels with enjoyment in your blood. White pressed shirt soaked in maroon.

Your eyes open and you're stuck to your sofa, your tv flickers over and over, and the masked man appears within the metal box, the tv screen flickers in fuzzy blacks and whites. He's covered in blood and it's blackened with age.cavernous eyes and unhinged jaw. He taps against the screen and waves the knife in his hand. You pant against your leather sofa bare arms suck to the couch with sweat, itchy hot. His hand reaches outwards to pull himself out and then he's on top of you, his knife slicing through the flesh on your bare legs and chest as you're forced to endure it in your frozen state. You close your eyes as his arms lift to plunge the knife in deep, when they open the street lights flicker off through the window. mesh curtains drifting in the wind.

You awake again a blanket thrown over your body haphazardly, your phone tells you it's 6 in the morning. You smoke a cigarette on your fire exit and watch the sunrise, you remember to not take sleeping pills with alcohol.

You look in the mirror and pick at the scab on your cheek, it drools with blood and you push it into your lips again, imagining it's his hand, you don't scold yourself this time, you tell yourself you'll never see him again. Then you lift your shirt and stare at the gash he left you, blood still smeared around the edges of the huge plaster they gave you at the hospital. You brush your teeth and spit out blood and teeth. When you blink all you see is the foamy toothpaste down the sink, you think you're going mad, its stress you tell yourself it's nothing to worry about. You open your wardrobe and black slime oozes out of it.

Your mom phones you at 8 before class, you tell her you're fine (your not)that you've been going to therapy(you haven't) that you've stopped drinking(likely chance)that that article she read on her phone was correct and you did see that killer that's been going round but your safe you promise( this is true, but your not safe, not even from yourself)

You head to college again and ignore the rumours going around about how you got stabbed by the killer, people ask about the scratch on your face and you tell them it was your cat that you don't own.

You go back home and cry at a video of a rat dancing in the rain, you scratch at the cut on your face until it bleeds again with your hand in between your thighs, stomach aching as you crumble into a shit position,you think about that night until you come over and over in your bed, sheets sticking to your body with sweat. You take a shower and close your eyes under the burning hot water, you catch your knee while using a cheap men’s razor shaving and watch the blood run into the water like psycho, you watch a western movie on tv, James dean rides a horse with a cigarette hanging out his mouth as he smirks in black and white.

You don't take a sleeping pill that night and stare into the popcorn ceiling until you witness cosmic horror beyond your own belief, you face stares back at you and then its eyes are torn from its head, you watch a body be exsanguinated and then flayed and sewn back together again and blood is pumped back into your body, you see that boys body as a car drives past, the way the blood trailed down his neck like a red scarf.

You fall asleep to sirens and screams.

It is Florida after all

#ghostface #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen #dbd #did fic #ghostface x reader #slasher + you #slasher x reader #jed olson x reader

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widowshaze · 2 years

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yes ma’am | n. romanoff

pairing: ceo!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: rule number one in the workplace, never get on your bosses bad side.

warnings: 18+ only! minors dni! daddy kink, heavy swearing, major degradation, abuse of power, strap-on use (r receiving)

word count: 2.8k

authors note: i haven’t posted in ages so i may or may not have gone feral, but ceo!nat just really does something to me, i hope you enjoy <3

you do not have permission to translate, copy or post my work elsewhere!

navigation | natasha romanoff masterlist

“Y/L/N!” Your boss's voice rang through the silence of the work floor, the only sounds of fingers typing on keyboards and pens scratching along the lines of the countless forms you were assigned to fill out daily.

Your head snapped up from the current report you had been working on for the past hour, your brain foggy and an impending migraine making its way to the forefront of your brain as your eyes read over word after word of your report.

“Ooo, someone’s in trouble,” a quiet snicker emitted from your cubicle mate and now best friend, Carol. You being paired to share with her when you started only six months ago, a friendship blossoming over the agreed annoyance with your boss and the countless, unnecessary paperwork she always gave.

With a shove of her shoulder you grumbled, “Shut the fuck up, Carol.” You dropped your pen as your hand came up to rub at your temple, aggravation beginning to surface as you wondered what your boss could possibly want now. You were called into her office almost once a week, being chastised over the smallest mistake that only one who was a perfectionist would notice, and unfortunately for you, your boss was one of them.

“Better act quick, the witch is coming,” Carol whispered over to you before turning back to her paperwork, and it was then that your ears picked up on the clicking of your bosses perfectly clean heals echoed across the linoleum floor as she approached your cubicle.

You didn’t dare look up from your paperwork until the clicking of her heels stopped, and a throat cleared from behind you. You slowly peered your head up from your paperwork and turned in your chair, your eyes immediately downcast towards the floor, taking in the perfectly shined heels. “Y/LN,” a voice spoke above you, that had you slowly lifting your head to meet the piercing green eyes of your boss, the most renowned CEO of any corporate business in the tri-state area.

You gulped as you felt your bosses gaze on you, her jaw hardened and set, the look of annoyance painted all across her face. “Yes, Ms. Romanoff?” She crossed her arms across her chest, unintentionally pushing her breasts up more, not that they already weren’t bulging out of the low v-cut of her blouse enough, and you couldn’t help but spare a glance at the cleavage before turning your gaze back to your boss.

Sure, she was worse than the devil himself but the woman was hot, and well, you were very gay.

“Care to explain the excuse of a report that I found sitting on my desk this morning?”

“Ms. Romanoff, I-“

“I don’t want to hear your excuses Y/L/N, I gave you plenty of time to write that report and what you gave me was absolutely mediocre!” Her voice raised on the last few words of her tangent, and you could feel the lingering gazes of your co-workers staring at the scene that she was making. “You have two hours to write me a new report, and I expect it to be hand delivered by you before lunch.” You opened your mouth to speak, but she had turned on her heel and walked away before you could even mutter a word.

“Yes Ma’am, anything you want ma’am.” You groaned out as you rested your face in your hands, hiding yourself from the sheer embarrassment you were ultimately feeling. Carol tried her best to comfort you, but you shrugged her hand off of your shoulder and turned back around to your desk. “If it makes you feel any better, she’s a total bitch.” Your friend tried to lighten the mood but all you did was grumble in response.

“She doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She’s cruel, unsympathetic and expects me to write God’s work while being paid only minimum wage!” You ranted while you rubbed at your temple.

“Wanna go to Joe’s tonight for celebratory drinks?” Carol inquiries and you were sold at the idea of getting blackout drunk. So you begrudgingly got to typing up a new draft of the report with the lingering thought of tequila in your mind pushing you through.

—

As if you couldn’t have timed it perfectly enough, you finished the report just as the clock struck the two hour mark as you were neatly putting it into the folder to give to Romanoff. You stood from your desk, folder in hand, as you prepared to enter the devil’s dungeon.

With a thumbs up from Carol for good luck, you begin the short trek from you desk to your boss’ office. You were thanking the stars when you noticed that her blinds to the office windows were drawn and she wasn’t able to see you panicking as you reached a hand up to gently knock on her door. A quiet spoken “come in” was spoken from inside and it took every ounce of courage for you to open the door and step foot into her office.

No one was just allowed inside of her office, those who did step foot into it were either being fired or they never came out, and you always wondered what happened to those who never did. You quietly took a few steps into the office, taking in the foreign place, noticing that it was simple, yet elegant, a few bookshelves were to the left, filled with books that you couldn’t even decipher the name of, a few fake plants littered the room to give it some life and sitting in the middle of the room was her desk, dark wooden with paperwork scattered all about it, and behind the desk sat the devil.

“Close the door.” She spoke sharply and you immediately obliged, reaching a hand behind you to pull the door shut. “It took you long enough. Give it here.” She demanded as she held her hand out with her perfectly manicured fingernails. You gulped again as you closed the distance between you and her desk before setting the folder in her grasp. She quickly took the folder from you and flipped it open, eyes scanning the pages as she flipped through them quickly.

You chewed the inside of your lip nervously as you watched her scan every word, on every page, letting out hums of disapprovement the further she got into the report. By the time she has finished the report and slammed it shut and placed it onto her desk, you knew you were fired. “It’s better than before, but it’s still poorly written. I’ve given you six months to prove yourself worthy to have a position in my company and you have proven nothing.”

You immediately looked down at the ground, your eyes fixating on the few scuffs on your shoes to avoid her harsh gaze. “I’m sorry, Ms. Romanoff, I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

“Apologies will get you nowhere Y/L/N,” she spoke harshly as she got up from her chair and rounded her desk to stand next to you. “It seems as if I’m going to have to teach you a lesson so this doesn’t happen again.” She whispered in your ear, and the sudden closeness of your boss has you gasping in surprise. You quickly lifted your head to look at her, but she was quick to grab a fist full of your hair and slam you down against her desk.

“You’ve done nothing but put shame to the name of the company I created,” she spoke gently as she kicked a foot between your legs to spread them apart. “You’ve failed countless times at such intern level work that sometimes I forget why you still have a job here.” She continued as she moved to stand between your patted legs, pressing her front against your ass, and you could feel the bulge of what she was packing beneath her trousers, and it took everything in you to suppress the moan you so desperately wanted to let escape.

“Maybe it’s because you’re pretty, hm?” She said as she pushed your skirt up to rest around your waist, revealing the not so work appropriate black lace thong you decided to sport that day. “Walking around with your skirt, showing off those beautiful legs I’ve thought about burying my face between multiple times before.” Her hand came against your ass cheek, and you let a cry out in pain, your hands gripping the edge of her desk. “Or the way you wear those low cut blouses leaving nothing to the imagination.” Another slap and this time, a moan escaped past your lips.

“So pathetic, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” She snickered from above you, as you felt her hand cup your heat and you couldn’t help but buck your hips against her touch, a silent beg for more. “Is this what you want? You want me to touch you whore, hmm? Fuck you right so maybe that way you can do your job properly?” She asked as she pressed her thumb roughly against your clothed clit and you couldn’t suppress the deep moan that escaped you as you nodded quickly. “Please Ms. Romanoff, I-”

You were cut off by her hand wrapping around your neck, pulling your body up flush against her own. “Don’t worry darling, daddy’s going to fuck you so good, and then maybe, she won’t fire you.” You whimpered at the nickname she had given herself. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, your underwear completely ruined and all you could think about was her hands on your body and wanting nothing more than to be fucked into oblivion.

She turned you around in her grasp quickly, before grabbing under your thighs and lifting you up on her desk, your legs immediately spreading open for her, a dark chuckle escaped her as she moved herself to fit perfectly between them. “God look at you, spread out for me like some dumb whore. Is that what you are baby? Are you daddy’s dumb whore?” You whimpered and nodded, as she looked down at you with an almost predatorial gaze. “I’m daddy’s whore, please.”

It was like you didn’t have control over the words coming out of your mouth, she had you in a trance, she had you right where she wanted you to be. The smirk that etched itself on her face was almost devilish as her fingers hooked into your underwear and slid them off your legs, revealing your glistening folds to her. Her gaze burned into you, her eyes drinking in every bit of skin they could see, the way she licked her lips as her eyes fell to your cunt had even more arousal dripping from you, and you whimpered. “Daddy, please, touch me, fuck me, please.”

You begged from below and she chuckled, as she unbuttoned her blazer and tossed it aside, before working on the button of her pants, her eyes never leaving you. “Such a needy little slut, begging to be fucked.” She spoke as she pushed her pants down, the red strap she had been packing slapping up against her stomach, and you moaned at the sight of the large, silicone toy. Your legs spread even wider as you wrapped them around her waist, pulling her flush against you as the tip of the toy nudged your clit, causing you to whimper.

“Ah ah ah, there will be none of that.” She reprimanded as she grabbed your legs from around her waist and pushed them open more, and you were unsure as to how your body was able to bend in the positions that it was. “Gonna be daddy’s good girl and take my cock, hmm?” She questioned as she slid the toy between your folds, soaking it in your juices, earning a moan from you at each nudge against your swollen and throbbing clit.

You nodded fervently, “I’m gonna be daddy’s good girl, I promise.” You whimpered as she pressed the tip against your entrance. “That’s what I thought.” She snapped her hips against yours in one swift movement, fully bottoming out inside you, your mouth fell open in a soundless moan, the sudden intrusion taking all of the breath out of your lungs. Her hands gripped your waist once she was fully inside you, barely giving you time to adjust to the intrusion before pulling her hips back and thrusting back into you once more.

A loud moan escaped you this time as the smirk etched on your face turned into a devilish grin as she began drilling the toy into you with brutal force. Whimpers and moans were the only coherent sounds you could form as the faux cock was filling you in all of the right ways, hitting every spot deep withing your walls almost perfectly.

“Look at you, so cock drunk already aren’t you slut?” She said breathlessly as she continued to pound into you, all you could form was a nod as the toy continued to be pounded inside you, a feral moan escaping you once it hit that spongy sweet spot deep within your slick walls. Natasha took note and angled her hips to hit the spot over and over again with each thrust, watching you fall apart under her touch and it was the most ethereal sight she had ever seen.

“Such a good girl, taking daddy’s cock so well.” She muttered out, her grip on your waist tightening as the toy nudged her clit with each thrust she made, the sight alone of you all fucked out on her desk was almost enough to send her over the edge, but she wanted to see you fall apart first before she allowed herself to.

“Mhm, I’m daddy’s good girl.” You spoke between moans, the coil building in your stomach, threatening to snap with each thrust of her hips, your knuckles bleeding white with how hard you were gripping the edges of the desk.

Your moans grew louder with each thrust of Natasha’s hips and she knew you were seconds away from your orgasm. “Are you going to come sweet girl? Gonna come all over daddy’s cock?” She questioned sweetly and you nodded quickly. “Please daddy, m’ gonna come, please let me come.” You begged, because you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. Your brain was fuzzy and you were completely fucked out, every thought, every sensation was on Natasha and all you wanted to do was please her.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” she almost teased as she leaned down to press a kiss against your jaw before whispering in your ear. “Come for me,” and that’s all it took for you to reach your release. Her lips pressed against your own to silence your screams as your orgasm washed over your body, your back arched off the desk as you tried to kiss her back, but your brain wasn’t able to function as the most earth shattering orgasm ripped through you.

Her thrusts didn’t lighten as you began to come down from your orgasm, her hips stuttering slightly as her own impending orgasm was on brink of releasing. You reached a hand up and slid it through her deep red locks, pulling her gaze to meet your own. “Want you to come for me daddy,” you whispered as your grip tightened on your hair, pulling her face down to meet yours. “Let me make you feel good.” A deep moan ripped from Natasha’s throat as her hips stilled, the silicone toy buried deep within you as her own orgasm washed over her.

Her body fell limp as she collapsed on top of you, and you were quick to wrap your arms around her to comfort her as she rode out her high. Her face buried within your neck as she breathed deeply, trying to catch her breath, as your fingers continued to thread through her locks. She placed a few open mouth kisses along the base of your neck as her breath evened out, before lifting herself up to look down at you.

“Think you’ve learned your lesson yet Y/LN?” She questioned as she pulled the toy out of you, a whimper of protest leaving you at the loss of fullness, but a sharp look from her had you silenced. You nodded as you shyed away from her gaze as an answer to her question, “Yes da- I mean Ms. Romanoff.”

Her hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her as she smiled sweetly, the complete opposite of the predatorial gaze she once had. “Oh sweetheart, don’t you worry, I’ll be having you calling me daddy much more in the near future.” And with those final spoken words, she pulled her pants back up and fixed herself in the mirror before sparing one last glance in your direction before exiting her office without another word.

And it was in that moment, you knew, you were under the complete control of Natasha Romanoff.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

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seat-safety-switch · 11 months

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We both know that, at some point in the past, you’ve been to a town that was enjoying a carving competition. Lumber, ice, marble: it’s human nature for some incredibly talented individuals to carve a statue out of another material, and then have their fellow cattle appear to gawp at it. Recently, I was in a small town, and they were doing a chainsaw carving competition. Artisans were busy hewing classical art out of broken trees, and it really got my creative juices flowing.

When I got back home, the only thing I could think about was making art of my own. Of course, I don’t own anything as clumsy as a chainsaw, and the municipality in which I reside has only recently removed their “no tree zone” bylaw, enacted after a particularly bad weekend in 1912 in which several beavers invaded City Hall. In their place, respectively, I chose an angle grinder, and the three-sixteenths of a 1974 Chrysler Newport that had been clogging up the corner of my yard for four presidents.

Of course, as with any art form, my first attempt at it was clumsy. Inexpert. I became frustrated at not being able to get my emotions into my work. I also went through a lot of AliExpress’s best “Holy Shit Very Sharp!” brand carbide wheels, some of which fractured even as I was loading them into the white-hot grinder. I persisted. My second production would be better, I told myself, and threw myself into it. Days turned into nights, and nights turned into days, because otherwise that would be kind of weird.

There is a name for the phenomenon which I was now experiencing. “Outsider art” is the polite way that the art community refers to anyone who had not received any classical art training (I never even learned finger painting, because my pre-school teacher, Ms. Ellersly – who I cannot remember the face of, but who drove a 1958 DeSoto Adventurer in puce – got busted for pot that day) but still manages to make art. Well, bitches, I got a whole gallery full of it now, and every tuned-in patron of sculpture was lining up to tell me how brilliant I was and how I should be asking millions more.

Well, I stopped doing it shortly after that. They say you should always leave your audience wanting, but that wasn’t it at all. Between you and me, I’d probably be making more, but I got bored of the whole thing. And I definitely didn’t want to cut up any more cars. At least, not any cars that I owned, and something about the high-boron steel superstructure of the Kia Sportage that keeps parking at the end of my driveway on weekends is not conducive to my particular muse. Oh? You’re right, I can keep it on hand in case I need some rust repair panels in the future.

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wannaseewhatshangin · 6 months

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A little like Carrie

━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼━━━━

Warning: Cursing, mentions of smoking, Cinder (bitch ass), bullying, Randy being the cutest and sweetest boy ever <3

Pairing: Randy x Fem reader

Summary: Randy's best friend, y/n, was always fond of Stephan King- but never knew she would be living the life of her own personal favorite. ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━ You walked down the steps of your cabin, lighting a cigarette before one of the counselors yelled for you to put it out. "Aw come on, its just one!" You said, smiling at her. Ms Kristy was your favorite counselor, she was always there when you needed her. She rolled her eyes before looking around. "Just this one time, Y/n. Go behind the cabin." You smiled, nodding as you went behind the cabin and felt eyes on you. You looked up to see Cinder. "Hey, Y/n" She smiled falsely. "What's up Cinder?" You smiled back with just as much sarcasm. She pressed herself against the wall of the cabin, her eyes scanned your clothing as she fixed her sun glasses. "Just walking around and I noticed you here. Which is really weird considering you are usually in the shadows of your boyfriend, reading your stupid 'King' novels. Did you do something different with your hair?" She teased, inching closer to you as you scoffed.

"He's not my boyfriend, he's just a friend- and no I did not. Also its not stupid, you should try it sometime, pretty nice." You snapped, getting fed up as you put out your cancer stick.

"No need to get upset, just checking," She laughed at you before walking away. ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━

You walked into the woods, your copy of 'Carrie' in your hands as you sat down by the Kayaks, turning to the page you left off on. You suddenly felt arms around you, knocking you over. "what the hell!" You screamed as Randy laughed, laying on the ground like it was the funniest thing ever. "Oh come on, Y/n. Just a joke." He smiled at you softly, playfully punching you in the arm. You nodded, turning back to your book as he slowly took it from your hands and started to read the page. "I haven't seen you read this one." He spoke softly, looking at the printed words that spread through the pages. You shrugged.

"It's my favorite novel so I don't really like bringing it outside, you know how camp is. People are mean." You said, leaning back against the old boat. The kayak was your favorite spot to hang out with Randy besides the dock house by the lake. The kayak was once blue- you could tell by the way rust was eating at the paint, showing a hue of some sort of pale blue. "Was Cinder messing with you again?" He said, finally looking up at you. You shook your head, lying right to his face. It broke your heart to have someone like Randy having to look after you like a baby. It made you feel weak.

"No. Just sayin'." You mumbled, looking down at your lighter. He nodded, looking back down at the book.

"Woah- This book is incredible, where did you get it?" He smiled at you, handing the book back. You laughed softly at him, gently taking the book from his hands. "Got it for Christmas. You should watch the movie with me, its even better." You smiled. He nodded, leaning back as well, his arm barely touching yours. It made your heart jump at the touch. Sunshine ran to you, smiling. "Hey Y/n! Come on, we're going to look for dresses for the camp dance." She breathed out, trying to catch her breath since she ran. "Oh, nah it's okay. I don't have anyone to go with and those aren't my thing really." You said, looking at her. "Go with Randy. I'm sure he'll take you." She smiled, looking at Randy then you.

Your eyes widen at her, making her shut up. "I mean, I would go with you if you wanted." He spoke quietly to you, smiling. You blush before covering it up, nodding. Sunshine smiled, grabbing your hand. ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━

You looked through your closet, pulling out all the dresses you had, which wasn't a lot. "Where are all the dresses?" Sunshine asked, looking at them. You shrugged, grabbing your last dress. "Told you dances weren't my thing."

"That one." She said, grabbing it from your hands. It was white, silky and ankle length. "You sure?" You asked, grabbing shoes. She nodded quickly, throwing it at you. "Go put it on, I'll find you some shoes to match" You did, walking out of the bathroom, looking in the mirror next to your bed. She squealed, smiling at you. "You look beautiful!" She said as you smiled, putting on the shoes she picked out. "Thanks, sunshine." ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━

Cinder walked up to Randy, her hand on his shoulder. "Hey Randy." She spoke softly as he nodded. "Are you going to the camp dance?" She asked him, smiling. "Yeah actually-" "Great, so you'll go with me?" She spoke over him, her nails touching his knuckles. "Actually I'm going with Y/n. Sorr-" "King freak? Why would you go with her?" She sneered, not so happy now. "Don't call her that. She's my friend. She's sweet and I would go with her anywhere. Leave me alone and leave her alone." He snapped at her, snatching his hand away as she scoffed. ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━

Ferris did your makeup for you as Sunshine did your hair. "So who are you going with, Y/n?" Ferris asked you as she added lip gloss. "Randy." You blushed, looking in the mirror. You were disgusted with the way you act when he's around or when you hear the sound of his voice, or when you hear his name. "That's perfect. You two should get together, in fact." She smiled, looking at you. Sunshine nodded, agreeing with her. "No no, he doesn't think of me that way and he might be interested in someone els-" "Y/n L/n, What the hell do you think you're saying? I knew you were blind but I didn't think you were this blind. Randy likes you, Y/n." Ferris said, looking at you. You didn't say anything then, Sunshine finishing up with your hair. "Thanks guys." ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━ You walked out of the cabin, sitting on the bench that was by the field, people were already with their partners or friends, smiling and laughing. You looked at Ferris, she gave you a thumbs up as she took Sunshine by the hand. You felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see Randy.

"Oh hi." You smiled, getting up from your seat. He smiled at you, love filling his eyes, yet you didn't seem to notice. "You look beautiful." He smiled at you, taking your hand in his. You blushed, looking down at the ground. "Thank you.." ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━

You smiled at Randy as he hugged you, hearing the announcements. "Okay, listen up. We have the votes for the camp dance. Remember, this isn't a real dance and its okay if you don't get picked. This is just for fun." The counselor spoke, before naming people. Your ears perked at the sound of your name, your eyes wide. You looked at Randy who had a proud smile on his face. "what do I do?" You spoke quickly "Girl, go up there! Hurry!" He smiled, gently pushing you forwards towards the stand. You went to the stand, holding the flowers that were given to you, smiling. His smile soon faded as there was another named called, it was a random boy that he didn't even know. And he got to stand up there with you. But he smiled again anyway, proud of you. ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━ Cinder climbed up the steps to the top, moving some of the lights to put a tin bucket in the middle, mixing red paint with corn syrup. She looked at her friend. "I wonder if King freak would mind being Carrie for one night." She laughed, as well as her friend. ━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━━━─━━━━━━─ ⇀♡↼ ━━━━

He looked up, seeing Cinder with a bucket. He looked closer, seeing that it was about to tip over. "Y/n! Up!" He yelled, running to the front, trying to push past people. You look up before shutting your eyes tightly, feeling the cold liquid spread through your skin. You looked at your hands, tearing up before getting off the stage and running to the woods, sitting by the Kayak. Randy followed, grabbing your hand, turning you towards him. "Randy go away." You cried, covering yourself with your hands. "No. I'm not leaving, Y/n." He spoke softly, taking your face in his hands. You refused to look at him. "I thought I was really gonna be the dance queen." "Y/n, You are. Cinder just wanted to mess it up for you. But you were always the dance queen." He smiled at you, rubbing your cheek, not paying any mind to the red substance.

"And..I still think you look beautiful. In fact, I think you look awesome. A little like Carrie." He laughed, poking your nose, making you smile. "Really?" You blushed, even though he couldn't see. "Yes. You always look beautiful." He mumbled softly against your lips, inching closer, his lip barely touching yours You fill the gap in between you two, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Lets go to the lake, get that stuff off of you." He smiled, grabbing your hand.

#Randy x reader #Little Darlings fanfic #X fem reader #Fem reader #Fanfic #Randy little darlings

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blurrymango · 9 months

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REDESIGNS/AU OF THE MLP MANE SIX YEAH YEAH YEAH BITCH. Drawn on MS Paint.

Design notes-

Twilight- FtM because I like to project. Naturally an earth pony, but because of his talent in magic he literally made himself into a unicorn or whatever lmao. <3 Applejack (and also Sombra because screw off.)

Rarity- Just wanted to make her pretty as hell thanks. Natural unicorn. Like c'mon. I gotta make best girl pretty. <3 Fluttershy.

Fluttershy- Originally was an earth pony, with a little bit of deer in the genetic mix. Is now a batpony. She muddy, hehe. Unwillingly Rainbow Dash's best friend. <3 Rarity.

Rainbow Dash- Oh. Oh ffuck I forgot to give her red piercings. Eh. Sigh. She is lightning she is thunder she is electric rain YEAHHH. <3 Pinkie Pie.

Pinkie Pie- Comes from a long line of earth pony + pegasus intermingling so she has vestigial wings. Applejack's cousin. Also, facepaint. <3 Rainbow Dash.

Applejack- I unfortunately did not have many design ideas for AJ. Orange ain't really a strong suit for me. But damnit I tried a bit. Braids. <3 Twilight.

What does this have to do with an AU and why? Uh. I dunno. :3

But also, earth ponies- extremely common, the majority of ponies. Pegasus- also extremely common, but not as much as earth ponies. Unicorns- uncommon, but not rare. Alicorns- literal mythical beings.

To change oneself into another type of pony is EXTREMELY rare and practically unheard of. Twilight just so happens to be well, basically on the path to godhood and Fluttershy had wandered into dangerous territory and got bit by a vamp.

#mango man speaks #mango man draws #digital drawing #digital art #ms paint #mlp #mlp redesign #mane 6 redesign #mlp au #twilight sparkle #rarity #fluttershy #rainbow dash #pinkie pie #applejack

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nicnavarrocage · 5 months

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In addition to my MSPA ideas

Prison Part 2, also known as Jailbreak: Extended Play, is basically a different version of the Jailbreak adventure, including dialogue, animation, narrative shiftings from 1st person to 2nd person between characters, and even interactive pages... IF I CAN CODE THEM. Each stick figure character will be named, and some will look distinct.

This is the "Beyond Canon Mockery" adventure I mentioned on my previous post, also known as "Homestuck: Beyond Fucked Up" or "Beyond Awful." It's a changearound of Beyond Canon's story, with worsened content, but mocked in a self-aware way, has a lot of pop culture stuff, also mocks the controversy and culture around Homestuck, and introduces a character named " The Story Wizard," an obnoxious, plot fiddling, story changing, retconning, King of Town alien who's always here to make the story worse. In this adventure, John actually hates everything around him, probably just me making fun of his descent into depression, wheras in the original comic he's an emo James Rolfe, while here, he's nihilistic.

Freeplay is an adventure with no plot, no story, no gods, no masters, no author, just fun, but a few set of rules. You can do anything you want here. It's the infinite canvas of MS Paint Adventures, with loads of creativity for one simple panel.

There are a trinity of commands, however. NULLIFY will reset everything, REGRESS will revert a command that someone has submitted, and DISORDER will scramble the story you create into random, inconvenient places.

Nepal Silo was an adventure I was thinking about earlier this year. It's about a group of young researchers who live on a cold, snowy landscape, sometimes peppered with aliens and oddities. It's gonna have the same style as Homestuck, but it's not gonna have that "There's a teenager in his room and he shall be named, plus a world ending supergame" bullshit.

I was also planning to give this adventure a Kelly Bailey inspired soundtrack, obviously because of the planned influence from Half Life.

And here is one I dare to create. Adventure Boy! Planned to be an adventure about some kid (oddly looking similar to Zoosmell Pooplord) in a fantasy world that doesn't know him at all. The main, titular character is extremely joyful, almost stereotype joyful, and yet the world he's in ranges from dark to careless. Yeah, it's obviously one big trope made into an MS Paint Adventure, but I don't care.

Another one I'm thinking about is this oddball. It's a story about your favorite spider bitch doing really stupid stuff towards every other troll in the style of a Homestar Runner storybook (See: Sbemail 100 or Homestar Enters the Strongest Man in the World Contest). Later in the book, the protagonist redeems herself off of being too mean.

But least could we forget, another project in the making. It's been done before, but we'll do it again. Comedy gold, adequate. Irony, stunning.

SWEET BOR AND HELLA JYEFF VIDYA GAEM DUDES INNERACTIVE COMIC made by ya boy Dave s. with iorny

Yes, I'm doing a Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff adventure. This one is more gaming based than slice of life or adventure. Think of it as early SBaHJ.

There's also gonna be a few new "bros" introduced into this comic. One's with a green shirt whom I call "THAT DUDE," and a pink shirt named "STAN-SO-CASH." Does Geromy count as a bro? WHO KNOWS!

At last, we have this.

An MS Paint Adventures adaptation of Homestar Runner's "Thy Dungeonman." This is basically gonna be a warm-up to everything else I'll do on MSPFA, sort of a practice to see if I can actually work on what I can correctly. I ended up doing Jailbreak: Extended Play first. The command system of Thy Dungeonman would be really hard to replicate in the MS Paint Adventures format, so suggestions will be sent one by one. Or I could just do the Bard Quest treatment.

So uh, BYE!

#ms paint adventures #ideas #ms paint fan adventures #mspa #mspfa #concepts #plans

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