Debrief
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d e v o n

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@3possumsinacoat-9806
Debrief
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY
I miss these shows so much
Day in the life - afternoon 🌇
Only day you can rb this
bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements
reblog to let people know it's ok to bother you with questions and statements
Please do not shut up about trans women's blogs being terminated disproportionately. You have to care more about speaking out against this. You have to care more about the girls that have been termed to oblivion. You have to care more about the girls that haven't come back. You have to care more about trans women.
Don't let them get away with it!
John will never write Nikolai a love letter.
But when Nik broke his leg during a black op for Laswell, John used his entire year's worth of leave to look after him until he was mobile again.
John will never scatter rose petals over the duvet and light candles.
But when Nik said he would like an outside patio for their cat, because she looked sad sometimes, John had his tools and measuring tape out within half an hour.
John will never recite poetry or make grand romantic gestures.
But the way he looks at Nik, the way he is silly and goofy and soppy, the way he kisses and hugs and nuzzles, the way his entire face lights up when Nik walks through the door...
John Price loves quietly, but with his entire being.
His love is written in every action.
No candle will compare to the warmth of his arms.
The poetry is in every moment he spends at Nik's side.
Nik wouldn't have him any other way.
Do I play Call of Duty - No. Would I survive a Call of Duty lobby- No. Do I know all or even most of the lore- No. Will I be reading fanfiction about them- HELL YEAH
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Write it badly or it'll never be written
Please keep interacting with this post because when I come to tumblr to procrastinate, this shows up again in my notifications and guilts me into writing again
Writing for the first time in a bit! Came up with some creepy stalker Simon white listening to 'an unhealthy obsession' by the Blake Robinson synthetic orchestra, creepy stalker stuff under the cut
You were sat in your room after work, it'd been such a long day and you simply wanted to eat a comfort food and binge the new hyper fixation you'd been stuck on, eventually you started to drift off, but a movement in the tree by the window startle you, seemed to be nothing, your cat Libby was also sitting watching watching window so it was likely birds she'd just spooked. But in the morning when you woke up, Libby was still sat there, intently staring out the window, you peaked over, probably a nest of birds but instead a fabric mask...? Some sort of fabric with a skull print on it. It sent shivers down your spine but maybe it was your neighbour, his step kids were visiting and they often lost stuff in your yard...
Eventually Friday rolled around, you sat in your favourite little homey bar, a fruity drink in hand as you tried to get over the terrible comedy someone had preformed on the run down stage. Then a man walked onto stage, big, bigger then you'd seen in person before. Honestly a little hot, he seemed to have a microphone and there was a speaker on the stage, God please no more comedy. Then the music started... the song was a little off putting but the flow was nice dispite the off putting lyrics until his deep brown eyes met yours, not an accident as he said the lines in his oh so gravelly voice. "I bought a pack lunch and some coffee for my stakeout in your tree, outside your house." The wink he gave you made shivers go down your spine and your gut churn, his bag near the stage was open, a very familiar mask in it... how long had he been watching...?
Content and warning under the cut! MDNI
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(CW: this is foul. This is nasty. Be warned. It contains anal, squirting, fisting, orgasm denial, spit, grinding, deepthroating, f+m oral, overstimulation, slight sadism, dominance play, and maybe a few more). This is meant to be safe, sane, and consensual
Just thinking about:
laying across Simon’s lap. Cunt clutching around nothing, lips spread, and clit grinding back and forth on his rough jeans. Moans of pure bliss decorating every few moments.
His eyes are on the football match on the tv, but they glance down lovingly once in a while at the finger in your ass. It pumps in, pumps out. Going at a glacial pace. Sometimes he crooks his fingers, and your moans get louder. “Fuck, Simon, please!” You beg.
He’d kept you in chastity for two months. He didn’t let you even touch your clit or slightly insert anything into your holes. You’d been terribly pent up. It was like you were losing your mind, day after day. You didn’t even know till when he’d keep this up.
Then, it was your birthday. You’d expected hoped he’d let you cum today, that he’d take pity on you and finally let you have the stimulation you so desperately craved. At this point, you’d even take having to do all the work yourself. You’d be fine if he just lied there and let you ride him. And you told him as much, greatly to his cruel amusement.
That was this morning. About thirty minutes ago, he’d finally cornered you. He’d made out with you, devouring you disgustingly. His lips and teeth traveled your skin. He nibbled your neck and rubbed his thumb over your mouth till you took it in like it was his dick. Then, when he pushed you down, you’d swallowed his dick till he came. You held his spend in as he pulled you to your feet and pushed his mouth against yours in a hungry kiss. He spread your legs with his foot and spanked your pussy. You cried out with the stinging pleasure as his fingers slapped against your clit. You’d taken the chance eagerly, sucking in his tongue, letting him taste his cum, then spit it back in and spread it all over the inside of your mouth— all in hopes he wouldn’t bring this to a stop before you got a release.
Simon just chuckles. He spreads some more lube. Spits. Then rubs it into your rim. He spends time, thumbing your hole in the same way he’d lick it. His thumb strays no more than half a cm in, no matter how much he or you want. This is your punishment for begging.
Twenty minutes later, he suddenly forces it down to the base. You cry out in a burst of pleasure. Dip. Dip. Dip. You bite your lip; you’ve learned your lesson and take whatever he gives.
Soon he increases to two fingers. Then three. By the time he reached five fingers, not quite all the way in, you’re dripping down his leg. There’s barely a sane thought left in your mind. Your eyes roll, and he shoves the fingers of his other hand in your mouth to swallow your screams as he slides his well-lubed fist into your ass.
Your hips move automatically, rubbing your clits over and over against him. He allows it and aids you. “There you go, sweet girl.” He murmurs, voice rough. His fist lightly thrusts into your ass. “Use me to make you feel good. Cum for me won’t you?”
He pushes his fist in and grinds, his knuckles pressing hard against your g-spot. With a cry, you squirt. His pants soak. Over and over, more and more, your pussy gushes. You don’t know what he’s doing anymore, but he keeps your orgasm going forever.
He gets off the sofa and kneels down. His mouth goes straight to your oversensitive clit and sucks. His tongue rubs and rubs till you feel like you’re going crazy. You wail and thrash, but he just holds you in place and keeps going. At this point it’s a wonder he hasn’t drowned in how wet you are.
And just when you think it’s finally over, he’s got you propped against his chest. His arms are firm around you, and his lips move against your hair. His low voices soothes and praises you for how well you’re doing. “Just give me some more, huh. My turn to feel good.” His cock is pressed against your gaping ass, and there’s a loud, rapid buzzing in his other hand.
“Scream,” he murmurs, pushing in and pressing the vibrator against your clit.
its kinda hard to celebrate trans day of visibility because the visibility we're getting lately is like
Truly, Soap doesn't mean to get caught staring at Nikolai as the Russian sticks two fingers in the mostly jar of chocolate mousse to wipe it clean before he sucks the digits dry.
Nor does he mean to get caught muttering, "God, I'd pay him to do that to me," under his breath.
And yet, Ghost scares the utter living fuck out of him when he retorts with "I wouldn't, with the limp Price is sporting I don't think the old man lets up until he's crying," from where he's been standing silently behind him, lurking and watching alongside Soap.
And a lovely request from Shainira... thank you always 💖💋
Reblog daily for health and prosperity.
Some cute Ghost blob
I have some plans for them.